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wing-ed-thing · 2 years

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Senioritis: Table 4 (Hidan x Reader, Chapter VI)

Synopsis: You were officially stuck with Hidan for the last semester of your senior year of high school. You’re determined to spend as little time with the obnoxious flirt as possible.

Word Count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: Language, Characters are Legal Adults, Crude Humor, American!High School AU, Jock!Hidan, Nerd!Reader, Modern AU, Gender Neutral Reader, Mention of Adult Themes, Discussion of Sexual Themes, Bullying

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Notes: I had to start making my own gifs because I ran out of ones where Hidan looks like a normal person. I think this chapter was the longest so far at a whopping 4k! No wonder it took so long!

It turns out, you would talk longer.

You just didn’t expect Sasori to pick up your conversation four days later.

In your home.

Unannounced.

The door to your bedroom burst open, the knob hitting the wall with enough force to surely leave a dent. You shot up in your bed with a panicked shout, sleepy mind barely registering Sasori storming through the door. You made a panicked reach for the lamp on your nightstand. You wielded it, holding it over your head like a maniac (the plug also slipping out of the socket) before the situation sank into your tired brain.

“What the fuck?!” you screamed.

“I need to talk to you,” he demanded, voice ever-stern and matter of fact. You rubbed your eyes, blinking at Sasori’s medium sized form. He stood in the center of your room, hand on the strap of his backpack slung over his shoulder and otherwise unbothered. You were, on the other hand, very bothered. Sasori scoped out your room, idly and silently judging your collections of various knicknacks. You lowered your weapon, returning it to its spot by your bed before picking up your phone to check the time. “You should answer your door when someone knocks, you know. What if there was an emergency?”

“Is there an emergency?” You muttered some swear words under your breath. Sasori better have a good reason for showing up unannounced on a Sunday morning. You breathed a sigh of relief that you were fully clothed. In pajamas, but still clothed. Sasori’s knee bent at the slightest degree. The palm of his free hand motioned wildly in the air by his hip while he gritted his teeth.

“Yes, of course there is. Why else would I be talking to you right now?” You met his stare, but rolled your eyes as you passed him. An expression of bewilderment crossed Sasori’s pale features. He turned, looking in the direction in which you disappeared, jaw slacked. “And the key under the mat? It’s like you’re asking to get murdered in your sleep.” Sasori followed you to the doorway of your bathroom but stopped short as you partially closed the door, leaving only enough space to stick your head out.

“Sasori,” you snipped shortly. “If it’s not important, you can wait.”

You didn’t bother to look at his face as you closed the door. Sasori crossed his arms, shoulders tensing before sinking with a silent sigh. He leaned against the wall, opening his mouth before closing it. Sasori’s head hung down in resignation.

“I need advice.” Silence came from the other side of the door. Sasori shifted in acute annoyance. “I need advice about a—” He stopped short, getting acutely frustrated. — “Someone. I need advice about someone.” The bathroom door creaked open the slightest bit. A toothbrush stuck out from your lips as you gazed upon the redhead curiously.

“Sasori… are you asking me for dating advice?” Sasori scoffed, stood up straight and began to leave.

“Never mind.”

You turned towards the sink to spit before returning to the open door.

“You’re the one who came to me, you know,” you called before rinsing your toothbrush and placing it back in its spot. Sasori’s shuffle halted from a distance away. You drummed the pads of your fingers against the doorway, wondering if you should say anything else or if you should simply leave him to his thoughts. More often than not, Sasori usually figured his problems out by himself. You knew he preferred it that way.

Sasori hadn’t been a deliberate friend, but an appreciated and valued one nonetheless. He had always been around, a natural part of your life. After all, you and Deidara had always been close and Sasori was always around to eavesdrop and spit out a snarky comment when warranted. Granted, most of the time it was very much unwarranted, but one thing you had to admire about Sasori was his carefully aggressive honesty. And now you were all in high school. You were adults soon going off into the world and Sasori had somehow become one of your most trusted confidants— which he found easy considering he only listened to you half the time.

You went to change, still aware of the stillness in your home. Sasori hadn’t moved. Sasori and stubbornness came in a matching set. You had told him over the years that it would do him some good to open up a bit more, but as to be expected, he never listened to you. You almost felt bad for him and the irony was completely lost on you.

“For the low, low price of buying us lunch I will give you all the answers your little heart desires,” you said as you settled back into your room. A grumpy Sasori slowly slinked into your doorway. He crossed his arms, small patches of red blossoming on his face as he gritted his teeth. Always one to have the answers, Sasori looked completely lost. You could see it; his lack of direction was slowly eating away at him.

“No way I’m driving,” he muttered.

“Take out then. Get it delivered.”

“If we’re ordering in you pay the delivery fee and all that bullshit.” Sasori’s chest heaved, the gears in his head grinding as he weighed needing your help versus the dent you would leave in his wallet. He shook his head and, once again, invited himself into your bedroom. His backpack hit your floor with a thud and by the time you turned around, Sasori had already resigned himself to the massive carnival bear in the corner of your room. A little baggie from Deidara’s cafe peaked out from Sasori’s bag. You stood and snatched it before sitting down again next to the second broken man you’ve had to deal with that week. You sighed.

“So… how’d you meet?”

***

“Okay, but did he say ‘guess he wanted an easier challenge’ in… I don’t get that shit. How did he say it?” Sasori ran his hands through his hair which had been sprawled out on the giant teddy bear for the past two hours. His slender fingers gingerly avoided the borrowed bandana in his hair, ensuring that none of his red strands touched his face. You both still had ten minutes on your face masks. You reached for your phone.

“No, no.” You waved your hand nonchalantly. “This was over Instagram.”

“Show me.” Sasori made no effort to sit up from his lax posture. Rather, he stuck out his hand impatiently as you scrolled through your phone. You dropped it into his palm, ignoring the exaggerated sigh he let blow from his chest, and stuffed a french fry into your mouth. Sasori inspected the screen with a scowl before he made a motion to tap the screen. You almost made a motion to snatch your phone back.

“Hey, don’t accidentally call him,” you warned. Sasori peaked out from behind the screen, scowl ever-present. He sank deeper into the bear. The glow from your phone increased, making Sasori’s mud mask glint.

“Why would I call him?” He tapped the screen some more, despite the fact that the whole of your and Obito’s conversation barely took up the length of the phone. Sasori lowered it, eyebrows scrunched in scrutiny. “You replied ‘thank you’?” You rolled your eyes with a groan and flopped down onto a small hoard of random pillows you accumulated.

“I didn’t know what to say, okay? Sue me.” Sasori tossed your phone back. You recoiled as it hit the stuffed animal in front of your face with a gentle thump. Sasori plucked a chip from the reserve that sat neatly on a napkin on his chest. He chewed in contemplation, still quiet. “So, do you think he was trying to be a dick, or—?” Sasori shook his head.

“Obito’s always a dick.” He inspected a few more chips, holding them by the sides so as to not get salt on the pads of his fingers. From what you’ve observed, only particular shapes were acceptable to the National Honors Society’s grumpiest tutor. He reached up and tentatively patted his cheek, causing green to stain his skin. “Is it time to take these off?”

“—No, we have a few more minutes— I haven’t even talked to Obito before. Like maybe once or twice but not enough for… whatever that was. What do you think Hidan was playing at?” Sasori heaved himself up, his little napkin of chip pieces neatly gathered between his fingers. His hair stuck up in different directions around his head like a tired halo.

“You put the wrong time in the timer. I can feel my skin drying up.” Sasori ignored you as he stood and made his way to the bathroom in the hallway. You couldn’t say you were surprised, but you nonetheless couldn’t help but gape a bit. You scrambled up and followed him, messages still pulled up as you gestured to the countdown clock.

“The package said twelve minutes and I put in exactly twelve minutes.” Sasori had already found the face towels. You stood in the doorway, tapping your foot. Arms crossed, you stuck up your nose. “I was thinking that they were playing some sort of… disgusting game.” Sasori shrugged.

“Could be.” He rinsed his face. Your heart sank, the pang of disappointment hitting you directly in your chest. You tried not to let your face fall. Little did you realize that Sasori’s honey-color eyes were studying you through the mirror. “Or maybe—” He averted his gaze. —“Obito’s being a dick like I tried to tell you earlier. Thinks he’s hot shit. Watches too much anime which is an oxy-fuckin-moron.” Sasori’s towel landed on the edge of your plastic laundry basket. “Have you tried talking to him yet?”

You cast your gaze down. Yeah, Sasori assumed as much.

“He’s just gonna lie.”

Then your timer went off.

Sasori quietly traded places with you. He snatched up another face towel and handed it to you wordlessly. The running water made up for the silence caused by your jumbled thoughts and feelings. Sasori watched as you washed your own face, not making his judgemental thoughts known. At least he knew when he was being stupid.

“I didn’t know you had a crystal ball.” You looked up at him, puzzled. Small droplets of water ran down your forehead and cheeks as you rubbed the cloth together under the running water. Sasori crammed himself diagonally in the wooden doorway, leaning similarly to the way he had done before. His back rubbed up vertically along the frame. His socks dragged along the lowest hinge. Sasori shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m just saying, that’s some confident fortune-telling.”

You dried your skin.

Sasori continued to loiter as you were once again overtaken with your own thoughts. He eyed you from his peripheral, and when you were ready, you met his gaze. He offered you a single nod and you knew that Sasori had already given you his advice before and this would be the last of it. But you had one last feeling that needed validation.

“Mr. Nara talked to me this week. He asked me if I was okay.” Sasori hummed, a small sign that he was listening despite abundant body language implying otherwise. You leaned, palms on the edge of your sink as you sifted through your words. “I guess some of the teachers were concerned, you know, with the confrontation between Hidan and me. I didn’t think much of it, you know, other than the public sort of embarrassment.” Sasori offered a slow nod before adjusting his posture within the doorframe.

“Makes sense.”

You sighed. You needed to lay down. You stepped over his diagonally angled legs. Sasori trailed behind you, quietly sitting back against the bear as you flopped back down on your assortment of pillows. Sasori patiently waited. You paused, an attempt to collect yourself. A deep breath pumped into your lungs and back out.

“... Am I not seeing something I should?” You propped yourself up, finding a section of your wall to stare at. “He seemed so mad, but it didn’t feel like… I didn’t feel like it was a ‘big deal’ per se. I didn’t even think anything of it until Mr. Nara asked.” You sighed, turning back to Sasori. “Does that make me stupid?” Sasori shook his head.

“You’re not stupid,” he said in a gentle voice. He curved one knee inward and wrapped his arms around the other. The headband he wore still made his hair stick up. “You’re afraid of getting hurt, and that’s okay, but don’t kill yourself over not knowing every little thing. You’re eighteen you’re supposed to be—” Sasori stopped himself short. He took a deep breath. “You’re human. A smart one, and you can make your own decisions without getting in your own way.” Sasori looked to the side, clearly not used to monologuing. He had, after all, always been one to keep his cards to himself. “We’ve all known each other for a long time and you know Hidan a bit better than me but… your anxiety, concern from those around you are meant to keep you safe, like a car alarm. You get to decide whether the situation warrants an alarm. I know stupid… and I don’t think that’s stupid.”

You relaxed into your mass of pillows, finally letting the breath you’ve been holding escape your lungs. You didn’t even realize that you were holding your breath in the first place. Sasori cleared his throat. He grit his teeth together, looking away as he once again outstretched his hand.

“Now pass the fucking hummus.” You sat back, letting the weight of your head fall as you felt around for the container. Wordlessly, you passed it to Sasori who took it from you with exaggerated annoyance. You sat together: just you breathing and Sasori destroying your supply of hummus. Sasori polished off his energy drink.

“And if you ever decide the opposite—” You looked at him, but he still had his head turned. —“You have people who support you… Not me, but others.” A small smile began to break out across your lips.

“Thank you, Sasori. That was very profound of you.” He waved you off, once again resigning himself to sink further into your carnival bear. His arms coiled over his chest as the collar of his shirt overlapped the bottom of his face. Sasori offered yet another nod in agreement. You finally allowed yourself to relax. “You know, you’re beginning to sound a lot like Deidara.”

“Fuck you.”

***

Hidan’s house was much more quaint than you expected it to be. Even in the dimness, you could make out its features. A long, cobblestone path led up to the black, front door. Tiny patches of grass and moss grew between the rocks. The lawn itself was rather large compared to the size of the house, the mowing neat around two trees that sat on each side of the path. The house glowed white in the darkness of the evening striking a stark contrast with the black shutters on the windows. A little pinwheel teetered before the three concrete front steps.

You made your way to the side of the house, encountering another tree. It had been a long time since you climbed a tree. In fact, you couldn’t name the last time you did. Perhaps elementary school. A glow of golden light illuminated the white curtains of the living room. You pulled yourself up onto one of the lower branches, struggling the slightest bit as you tried not to let the leaves shake too violently. A light was on in the second level window. You gripped the branch above you, gingerly making your way onto the roof. You pinched the stool of the window, shifting your weight to land firmly on the shingles, hoping that you had the right room.

You did. You spied Hidan inside, hunched over and scribbling down on some papers on his lap. His leg shook, bouncing up and down as he contemplated. His other hand played with a few strands of hair at the back of his head.

Tap tap tap.

Hidan’s head shot up. He looked in the opposite direction briefly before turning towards the window. Confusion completely overtook his face. Hidan squinted, only shifting his weight slightly on his comforter but he made no effort to move to the window. Your heart hitched in your throat, palpitating in a way that could have made you burst. As you met his stare, you also noticed your reflection in the reflection of the window. You barely took in your own wide eyes before your breath fogged up the glass.

Hidan slowly stood, moving his items off his lap and onto his bed. He approached the window tentatively, shoving one hand in the pocket of his sweatpants. You watched as he pulled on the lift. He just stood in front of you. A bit of hope glittered in his colored pupils, but for once, Hidan remained silent. Outside his window, sitting on his roof, was the last place he would have expected you, and a large, dominant part of him wondered why you were there. The sound of crickets rang clear to Hidan’s ears. Fireflies lit up the lawn below, sparkling periodically like living fairy lights.

You didn’t know what to say. You thought about it a lot on your way over, but as you sat, face to face with Hidan, you found yourself at a complete loss for words. Every mental script had completely vanished. He stood in front of you, almost expressionless and it made you nervous.

“Do you have feelings for me?”

You inwardly cringed at how the question came out. The words even made you squint, the sides of your mouth turning downward as you shrunk down in embarrassment. Hidan took a deep intake as he opted to study the ground. He scratched the back of his head, his hand lingering there as he attempted to respond.

“Uh… yeah, I mean I guess.”

His words struck you straight through the heart. This had to be the most humiliating thing you had ever subjected yourself to, but you nodded quietly to yourself. You, after all, were determined to get answers, so you resisted the urge to launch yourself back into your climbing tree to make a beeline for your car. You gulped.

“What do you mean ‘you guess’?” Hidan’s palm rubbed at his cheek and up his temple. He shifted once again.

“I mean—” A million different endings to that sentence ran through your head. Maybe he had been joking all along. Or maybe he wasn’t looking for anything serious. You were, after all, about to graduate in a month and likely go in different directions. Maybe he just wanted sex you were told that every other eighteen year old guy wanted. Maybe he realized that he really did like Kona— “I just thought it was obvious.”

You realized that you had been spacing out and you immediately snapped back to reality. You blinked in rapid succession at the outcome that you never suspected. He rolled his shoulder, head tilting to one side. Never in your life did you think you would have been overwhelmed by such sheer emotion at Hidan’s confession of affection towards you let alone be at peace with your reciprocation.

“This isn’t just a game.” Right? A question spoken with the intonation of a statement. You didn’t like what Obito said to you and repeating it always sounded cheesy on your lips, but the doubt those words left lingered at the forefront of your mind. Hidan’s brows furrowed, his arms coming to coil over his chest. He stared at you with a certain intensity that you weren’t used to. The apparent confusion, well, you were used to that.

“Why would you think that?”

The sound of crickets sang in the background. You hummed a few more crutch words.

“I, um… I just heard about stuff with you and Konan… and I… um…”

And as Hidan began to laugh, your words finally died on your lips. A blistering heat spread from your face to your shoulders as your insides ached. The undersides of your arms felt sweaty. You shifted, ready to climb back down to the ground, but too shocked to move. Hidan sighed, a smile plastered on his lips. He leaned, sticking his upper half out the window.

“You’ve been jealous. That’s what this has been about this whole time?”

“I’m not jealous!” You snipped back, but even your defensiveness was void of any malice. Hidan’s gaze remained locked onto you and you found yourself looking away. The sun barely peaked over the horizon, leaving a scarlet hue in its wake. The light cast over the neighborhood. “I just want to know what it is that you want.” Hidan smiled his usual smile: goofy and confident.

“I’m into you. I told you that last week.” You blinked at him, the whiplash feeling increasingly physical by the moment. Mentally, you replayed the past week in your head as you wondered how you could possibly miss that.

“When?” you annunciated. Hidan cocked his head at you, a few stray strands of hair flopping to the side. His light-colored brows scrunched up again for the umpteenth time that night.

“I just told you: last week. Remember? You were all pissed off?” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, when you called me a bitch.”

“No,” Hidan said with a shake of his head, “I said that I’d never had a bitch of my own, implying that I would like to have—” He gestured to you widely with a toothy grin. —“said bitch. Like Jay-Z and Kanye. It’s really the most underrated song on the album.”

You ran your hands through your hair, trying to wrap your head around the missed reference. You shook your head back and forth, hoping to reset your hyper focused thoughts. Hidan paid you no mind; he had seen you do it many times before. You shifted a bit on the roof.

“So to make sure we’re in agreement,” you proclaimed in a voice that Hidan most often heard during class. “There’s a mutual—”

— “Damn, you really are analytical twenty-four-seven…” Hidan sighed and you gave him a pointed glare. He stretched: a telltale sign of Hidan’s restlessness. You ignored it, as you had also seen him do it many times before. He spoke as nonchalantly as usual.

“You didn’t let me finish.” You rolled your eyes as you began to rise. You reached back, grabbing onto a sturdy branch before making your way back into the leaves. You met Hidan’s bright stare and for once a peaceful confidence rose in your chest. “Come pick me up at my place this Friday at seven.” Hidan nodded rapidly, still halfway out the window.

“Yeah,” he beamed. “Sure thing.”

“Don’t be late.”

You didn’t even think you looked back at Hidan as you scaled the tree. You ran across his lawn, fireflies blinking around you as your heart pounded in your chest. As you rounded the corner, you could hardly make out your car in the blue-colored dimness of the evening. Your hands fumbled for the keys in your pocket and when you finally sat inside, you let out a gleeful scream.

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed and otherwise supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

I was going to end it next chapter but I think I’d like to go longer with this one.

Table Four (Hidan x Reader), Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI

Table Two (Deidara x Reader)

Senioritis: Lab (Sasori x Reader) Part I

@brokennerdalert

#Hidan x reader #naruto x reader #hidan #Akatsuki x reader #akatsuki #naruto x you #naruto x y/n #naruto scenario #naruto scenarios #naruto imagine #naruto imagines #naruto headcanon #naruto headcanons #naruto #reader insert #x reader #Senioritis: Table 4 #senioritis: Hidan

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yuoic · 1 year

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I posted 4,027 times in 2022

159 posts created (4%)

3,868 posts reblogged (96%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@nullheaven

@corvus-pictor

@pettybourgeoiz

@puppetstringed

@sandmandaddy69

I tagged 455 of my posts in 2022

#you - 73 posts

#personal - 14 posts

#spotify - 12 posts

#yuoic - 11 posts

#<3 - 8 posts

#me - 7 posts

#ask - 6 posts

#dracula daily - 6 posts

#nonc - 5 posts

#this is beautiful - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#im looking for a non-spotify version of you just haven't earned it yet by the smiths but spotify piece of shit audios is all i can find

My Top Posts in 2022:

driving myself insane (again). why don't vacuum chambers collapse??? what do you mean there's "nothing" in there? if there was nothing inside the walls of the chamber then there would be absolutely and literally nothing between them, not even (and specially) any amount of space?? right?? my best guess is that vacuum chambers can't possibly be 100% empty, and that the very little amount of remaining gas particles are doing all the pushing-against-the-inside-of-the-walls job themselves, and that's why it doesn't collapse? .....but if there's no pressure inside (literally 0 atm or very, very close to it sometimes) why doesn't the pressure (1 atm) on the outside of the chamber crushes it inwards? And even if there was more vacuum outside a vacuum chamber ...why ..what would.. would it collapse anyway? .........but if there was vacuum outside chamber and you opened it, then close it again, there would....still be..no th i ng i nth er e, and it wouldn't necessarily "have" to collapse. What the actual fuck is going on? ?

25 notes - Posted September 28, 2022

why isn't everyone obsessed with the paranormal and the occult? If I had at least ⅛ of the brains needed to sit down and study Stuff, I would literally devote my life to unravel the mysteries of - i don't know - ghosts and shadow people and exorcisms and the many spells ive seen work and those super-powered chrstians who read minds and speak in tongues and cure people. .

25 notes - Posted July 30, 2022

this man is literally best friends with the other two men who proposed to Lucy on the very same day

46 notes - Posted May 27, 2022

the Count literally undressed Johnathan, put him in his pajamas, folded his clothes and then tucked him to bed - just after telling his three critters that he loves him and claiming the ownership of him

57 notes - Posted May 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

321 notes - Posted March 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#year in review #i was scared to post this cause of the longest tag #what if it was one of my lame ass depressive ass tags xdxd #but hating on Spotify about Morrissey is just fine #the *you* tag tho #ain't that cute?#personal

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potheadnona · 1 year

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Final Day Weight Loss Challenge

Ten facts about me:

I’m a runner, I’ve ran cross country for 5 years and am about to start my sixth season next month

My music taste is all over the place. I love kpop (blackpink, TXT, IU, IVE… list goes on), I also LOVE post Malone which is really random, and Indie Rock?? Idk, I listen to a lot of Car Seat Headrest but they’re not really a specific music genre

I have a cat named chichi who’s named after jisoo from blackpink. She’s very cuddly and overall adorable 🥹

I’m a space nerd. I love looking at pictures captured by the James Webb telescope and plan to get some form of engineering degree in hopes to one day become a aerospace engineer

I’m really crafty. I knit, sew, and crochet. And I’m pretty good at those as well. I’m currently making a bunch of crochet cat ear beanies for a charity

I’ve played instruments quite a bit. In middle school I picked up violin and quickly became really good at it. Won gold in a solo competition and preformed in my schools ensemble. I quit though because I got bored. Now I play piano and am trying to learn guitar

I look nothing like my tumblr layout may suggest I look like. I have ear gauges, a shit ton of facial piercings, dress in a lot of black, pajama-like clothing. My hair is also very short (just now grown out to ear length) and dark brown almost black. I don’t consider myself “emo” but a lot of the younger kids in my neighborhood sometimes ask if I am lol

I have a huuuge patio garden. I have strawberries, Jalapeños, banana peppers, cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, WAYYY too many green bean plants, and onions

Ive spent $1,000 paychecks on jisoo photocards and signed albums while manic 😀 I still have quite the collection lol

Running out of stuff but I love monster ultra. I like the peach and strawberry ones the most

Current Stats:

weight: 101.6

bmi: 18.3

throughout these thirty days I might not have lost much weight but I’m very proud of myself for even losing anyways. For a majority of this challenge I was on antipsychotics that made me bed ridden with body sores and made my stomach basically a bottomless pit. I officially quit the meds the other day and had been taking a smaller dose a week prior. I’m pretty proud of myself and hopefully me being almost out of the 100’s means I’ll reach my 98.8 lbs gw this month 🙏

#tw ana shit #ana trigger #tw ana diary #eating disoder trigger warning #tw disordered eating #ana stuff #ed di3t #ed bllog #tw ed diet #disordered eating mention

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classysassy9791 · 2 years

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They named her Kagome after finding her injured and unconscious on the subway. Suffering from amnesia, she recuperates under the care of a semi-retired surgeon and a fresh young doctor. But when dark and violent flashes of her past come back to haunt her, Kagome begins to wonder if her past was worth remembering. Especially when a man she doesn't recognize quite literally lunges into her life, accusing her of murder.

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Drama, Mystery Pairings: InuKag, MirSan Warning: Dark themes throughout

Ch. 1 l

Chapter 2 Word Count: 5300 Can also be found on AO3

The sigh that escaped her dry lips was slow, as if her brain needed that time to process what had happened. Brown eyes fluttered open, staring up at the white-tiled ceiling. The first thing she noticed was that her entire body ached, so much so that she found it hard to even form a coherent thought. She struggled to draw breath, her chest constricting painfully with each intake of the cool morning air. Her eyes burned with a mix of sweat and tears, but she did her best to blink away the pain.

She turned her head, listening to the drip, drip, drip of an IV bag, the soft hiss of an oxygen tank connected to her nasal cannula, and the slow beep of a heart monitor. All of these things were foreign to her, and yet so familiar.

Movement caught the corner of her eyes, and reflexively she reached out a hand to search for her Glock 19, but she found the space beneath her pillow empty. Panic gripped her, even as her expression remained cool and collected as she focused on what caught her attention. A little girl stood at the foot of her bed, bright, brown eyes wide as she stared back at her with bewilderment.

“Hey,” she managed to rasp out, her throat scratchy and raw.

The child bolted from the room, the pitter-patter of her tiny feet scapering away. She moaned, licking her lips as she leaned back in bed, attempting to force away the nearly unbearable pain by sheer willpower alone. What in the hell happened to her?

A few agonizing minutes passed before the door to the room opened, revealing a young man in his late twenties with jet black hair falling loosely over his features. He shot her a cheerful grin before lifting a cup of coffee to his lips. “Good morning.”

Get away.

She raised a brow, looking over his attire of pajama bottoms and a t-shirt that was probably too snug for his athletic build. He easily walked over to her, sweeping his eyes over the monitors surrounding her, before taking a seat in a chair at her bedside.

“You look confused,” he observed, watching her forehead crinkle in thought. “Do you remember what happened?”

Her lips pulled into a scowl. “Who-Who are you?” she managed, fighting every instinct that told her to run away. Blackness edged her vision, the pain rocketing through her like an uncontrollable wildfire.

The pain won’t kill you.

“My name is Miroku Ishida. I’m a doctor in my second year of residency at Memorial Hospital in the city.” His dark eyes glinted. “And, you are?”

She struggled to form an intelligible thought, licking her lips again as she drew shallow breaths. A name. She needed to tell him a name. But, what was it? What was her name?

He frowned, noting the way her hand began to shake as it fidgeted with the blanket lying across her. Her breathing quickened as her oxygen saturation on the monitor declined a few points.

“Do you remember your name?” he asked softly, tilting her head.

She bit her lip and turned away from him.

You need to run.

His heart reached out to her. “Most likely amnesia,” he supplied, hoping to ease her distress. “From what injuries you had, you’ve probably been through hell.”

She looked at him then, eyes swimming with tears she was too proud to shed. “What happened?”

Miroku smiled gently. “I was on my way home last night and found you on the subway. You were in pretty bad shape. I would’ve taken you to the nearest hospital, but you said you didn’t want the police involved, so I had no choice but to bring you here.” He took another sip of coffee as he studied her reaction.

There was an inkling thought in the back of her mind, one she couldn’t quite bring to fruition. Just the mention of police had her stomach churning, but she couldn’t say as to why.

“I see.” She gazed around the room again, taking note of the cream-colored walls and long, metallic counter space. Cabinets hung overhead with glass panes, filled with medical supplies. “And, where is here?”

“Doctor Miyamoto’s clinic,” he explained. “I’m one of the doctors who work here, so I figured this would be the best place to bring you.”

She swallowed thickly, wary of his open nature. What was his play? What did he want from her? And, how long did he intend to keep her here?

You need to get away from him!

“Is she awake?” another woman’s voice called out as she pushed open the door to the room.

“Yes, she is, Kaede.”

She studied the older woman who entered the room - her long hair framing dark, kind eyes. Kaede gave a strained smile, fine nets of wrinkles surfacing at the corners of her eyes, as she handed her a glass of water and two pills.

“Just some Tylenol,” Kaede responded to her dubious expression. “It probably won’t do much for the pain, but it’s something.”

If she had her way, she wouldn’t take anything these strangers offered her, but with the pain hindering her thought process and movement, she didn’t have much of a choice. She took first the pills then the glass of water, greedily drinking the entire cup before handing it back.

“Thanks,” she murmured, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

Kaede nodded, setting down the glass before slipping her hands into the pockets of the slacks she wore - much more professional-looking compared to Miroku.

“My name is Kaede Miyamoto. I’m the doctor who owns this clinic. How are you feeling?”

Move, dammit!

“I have to go.” The words spilled from her lips before she could stop them, her instinct to escape these people overwhelming. She attempted to push herself upright, but a shockwave of pain shot through her, paralyzing her, and she couldn’t control the groan that forced its way out.

Kaede sighed. “That’s what you get for refusing pain medication.” Miroku gently pressed her back down to the bed, which she gave no fight about. Kaede leaned over and quickly flashed a light into her eyes before holding a stethoscope to her chest. “What do you remember?”

“It appears as if she has amnesia,” Miroku offered. “She can’t even recall her own name.”

The doctor hummed with a deep frown. “I see. Well, in my experience, it’s usually only temporary. Hopefully by the time you’ve recuperated, your memories will have returned.”

“Recuperated?” she echoed.

Kaede folded her arms over her chest. “You were in pretty rough shape when Miroku brought you in last night. He had to pop your shoulder back into place, and I had to sew up a hole in your abdomen that a bullet had torn through. Not to mention the wound to your leg was pretty severe. You’re very lucky your femoral artery wasn’t nicked or one of your organs wasn’t damaged, otherwise you’d be dead. There was quite a bit of mutilation to that leg, though. You won’t be able to walk on it for a while.”

Brown eyes turned to her left arm, which rested in a sling, and then to the rest of her body. She was covered in bandages, a thick maroon blanket covering her from the waist down. Even if she had fought through the pain to leave, the weakness she felt in her right leg wouldn’t have allowed it. She was royally screwed.

“Listen,” Kaede began, her tone hard and defensive. “I don’t know what kind of trouble you’ve gotten yourself wrapped up in, but I won’t have it coming here.” She took note of the vitals on the monitor before pressing a few buttons on the IV pump. “You’re not out of the woods yet, but you’re stable. I’ll give you some fluids to help with the blood loss and antibiotics to avoid infection. We’ll help you get on your feet again, but as soon as you’re able to walk, I want you gone. Do you understand?”

She narrowed her eyes at the crass woman before her. “What makes you think I want to stay? I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t you understand? I’m trying to help!”

“Take your concern elsewhere. I can take care of myself.”

Her head suddenly throbbed, a fleeting scene trying to resurface - a memory, perhaps? She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“Right,” Kaede clipped with pursed lips, oblivious to her charge’s discomfort. “You took care of yourself so well that you ended up in my clinic near death and with no memory. If you want me to hand you over to the police, I’d be happy to oblige.”

“Now, now,” Miroku interjected, waving his hand dismissively. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. She’s hardly in any condition to fend for herself.” He ignored the glare their patient threw at him. “So let’s play nice until she’s well enough to be on her way.”

Kaede gave him a long stare, slipping her hands back into the pockets of her slacks. “Very well,” she agreed. “But, she’s your problem, Miroku. You’re responsible for the rest of her care. I wash my hands of this mess.”

“Duly noted.”

Giving the woman a final glance, Kaede left the room.

Miroku exhaled deeply, grinning as he looked back at his new patient. “Now that the boss has left–”

“Where’s my gun?” she suddenly demanded, eyes hard and suspicious.

He scoffed. “You don’t remember your name, but you remember having a gun?”

The sleek metal felt cool to the touch and an unnatural weight in her hand. Such a foreign feeling, as her finger wrapped around the trigger, but a welcomed one all the same.

She gritted her teeth and inclined her chin. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Sighing, he stood up and pushed the chair back to the other side of the room. “It’s safe,” he assured as he came back to her bedside. “But to be fair, you’re a stranger to us and you had a bullet wound in your side, so I figured it’d be best for everyone if you didn’t have your gun right now. You can have it back when you leave - unloaded, of course.”

Her face flushed with anger, her eyes with defiance, as she attempted to push herself up to a sitting position again. “You have no right to take it from me!”

Miroku frowned. “I saved your life. Excuse me for attempting to protect my own, as well as the others who reside here.”

She glared at him, but stayed silent.

“You’re safe here,” he reiterated. “There’s no need for a weapon right now. And, if you’re going to be here for a while, you’ll have to learn to trust me. So, lay back down before you tear open your stitches.”

Her expression spoke volumes of distrust, but he had no clue as to why. It was obvious the path life had brought her down had not been an easy one, but he wasn’t sure if even she would remember why.

With reluctance, she lowered herself back onto the hospital bed and turned her head so she was facing away from him. He hid a smile, noting how she looked like a child pouting from not getting her way.

“Now, since you’ll be our guest for some time, and you can’t remember your name, we’ll have to call you something.” He took a sip of his coffee thoughtfully before continuing. “You have an interesting scar on your left wrist. Perhaps that’s what we’ll call you?”

Her gaze moved to her left arm that rested in a sling. Barely peeking from beneath the cloth were the faded, white lines of a scar. She moved the sling just enough to read the name engraved into her skin. “Kagome?” she murmured, glancing up at him skeptically.

Miroku shrugged. “Why not? I think it’s a beautiful name.”

She traced her finger over the slightly raised flesh of her wrist, replaying the name over and over again in her head.

“Kagome. Kagome. The bird in the basket.”

She hummed thoughtfully. “Kagome.” It felt okay. She could be called that.

Miroku grinned. “Perfect. Now, I’m sure you’re starving. Kaede’s making breakfast. I’ll bring you a plate when it’s done. Just relax until then.”

The young surgical resident disappeared out of the room, leaving her alone with a name ringing of forgotten echoes.

Miroku walked down the hall and entered the kitchenette area of the clinic. Kaede bustled behind the counter making breakfast fit for a king - or at least for a young man who ate like a garbage disposal, and one picky eater. It was only seven-thirty in the morning, and even though Miroku had kept vigil over their patient most of the night, he knew Kaede didn’t sleep much after she had left the clinic. She had showered, but her weary gaze spoke of a restless mind.

A young girl sat at the small table, kicking her feet and humming to herself as she waited eagerly for Kaede to finish cooking. “Morning, Rin,” Miroku greeted, rustling her hair with his hand as he passed, earning a cheerful giggle as he set on filling up his cup with more morning brew.

“This is a bad idea,” Kaede said in a low voice to keep their conversation away from the ears of a curious child. “That girl’s trouble.”

“Kagome isn’t going to be trouble,” he tried to soothe, pouring the last of the piping hot coffee into his mug before adding some sugar.

She paused in frying some eggs and gave him a hard stare. “You’ve named her now?”

He gave her an incredulous look. “We have to call her something. We can’t just keep calling her ‘girl’ if she’s going to be staying a while.”

Kaede huffed with annoyance. “I don’t care what you call her. Did you see her injuries?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod as he leaned up against the counter. “They were pretty severe.”

“No, no, not that. I’m talking about how they were treated.”

He narrowed his eyes.

Kaede glanced over at a preoccupied Rin and her handheld gaming system before continuing. “Miroku, she used a belt as a self-made tourniquet around her thigh to stunt the blood flow. She patched up the bullet wound with cloth torn from her shirt. She managed to get onto the subway from who knows where.”

“So?”

“So!” she hissed, shooting him a glare. “What she did… her actions aren’t normal, human behavior. A normal person walking down the street wouldn’t have those instincts. They would flag someone down for help. They would get to the nearest hospital. They would use a phone, for heaven’s sake!”

Realization burned through him and he took a long sip of his coffee in thought. Kaede was right. Kagome wasn’t like ordinary people.

Kaede shook her head. “Whoever Kagome is, her presence is only going to serve as a problem for us.”

“Is she awake?” Rin asked as she looked at them with large, inquisitive eyes, halting Miroku and Kaede’s hushed conversation.

“Yes, Rin,” Kaede answered, giving Miroku a look that said they would finish speaking later. “But, you’re not to go near her. I nearly had a heart attack when I found out you had been in her room earlier.”

Rin shoved out her bottom lip in a pout, as Kaede set her breakfast down in front of her. “I’m sorry. Is she bad or something?”

Kaede worked on filling a plate for Miroku. “She’s just very sick,” she explained gently to the eleven-year-old. “I don’t want you to bother her.”

She shrugged as she reluctantly turned her attention back to her breakfast. “Okay. Whatever you say.”

“Good girl.” Kaede sighed deeply, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned back to Miroku, who stood practically a head taller than she. “I’m worried,” she expressed in a whisper, her forehead wrinkling. “We don’t know anything about her.”

He patted her shoulder gently. “Let’s be cautiously optimistic. Give it a few days. I’m sure we’ll all warm up to each other.”

As Kaede watched him take a seat across from Rin, she bit her thumbnail nervously. Miroku had always been very open-minded and accepting of others. A tad bit naive, if anyone asked her. It had often gotten him into trouble in the past. She could only hope that this time he was right, but it didn’t stop her gut from twisting with dread.

The rosy hues of sunrise cast barely enough light on the wreckage that maimed 34th Street, nestled in the corner of the business district. It was still too premature for most news reporters to have caught wind of the mysterious, late night disturbance. Even Sango Tachibana, an experienced homicide detective and first superior officer on the scene, would rather have still been asleep in her apartment flat instead of dragging herself out into the cool, damp air of early spring.

She sipped on her coffee purchased from her favorite shop around the corner from the precinct, attempting to drive away the last bit of grogginess left over from pouring over case files late into the night. If her partner hadn’t been on vacation this week, he would’ve been the one dragged to the scene at the crack of dawn. Instead, he was enjoying an island beach somewhere off the coast.

“What do we have?” Sango asked the first detective she came across - a man named Haruto Fujimori, who was a fresh new detective to the area and a little too uptight in her opinion - flashing her badge before he lifted the yellow tape spanning the street so she could duck under.

“Car accident, ma’am,” he explained, nodding toward the charred remains of a vehicle wrapped around a light pole at the end of the street. It had been so badly burned and warped, it was hard to even tell what make and model it was. Several crime scene investigators were searching the surrounding area; a few yellow markers were left near what could be evidence.

“Don’t call me ‘ma’am,’” she corrected out of habit, loathing the formality and how old it made her feel. She frowned in annoyance while sipping her coffee. Usually, homicide detectives weren’t dragged out to accidents unless there was suspicion of foul play. “Victims?”

“Three.” He led her around to the side of the car so they could look inside. Glass crushed underfoot as they peered into the vehicle, attempting to make sense of what remained. “Two males. One female.”

“Where are the bodies?” she questioned. Typically, if foul play was suspected, the bodies were left at the scene until the lead investigator could survey and document what had occurred.

Haruto looked sheepish. “Well, originally we thought it was just a car accident, so the bodies were released to the coroner.”

Sango pursed her lips, but didn’t comment on the lack of thought that went behind the decision-making. She made a mental note to follow up with the crime scene investigators to make sure they had documented the scene thoroughly with the bodies in their original positions. “Did you find IDs?”

Haruto shook his head. “Not yet, ma’am. We’re still looking to see if anything was thrown from the car.”

She internally groaned at the repeat of the formality before looking up into the clear, morning sky. “What were the weather conditions last night?”

He shrugged. “A few clouds, but no rain or fog.”

Sango hummed curiously. So, what had caused the car to lose control and careen into the light post? “What’s so interesting about this case then?”

“Well, uh, the medical examiner is actually the one who thought it was best to call you in.”

She raised a brow when Haruto didn’t offer a further explanation. “Well? What did the M.E. say?”

“Oh, right!” He fumbled with a notepad he had stuffed into the front pocket of his blues. “Uh, she said her preliminary examination revealed that she believes one of the victims died from a gunshot wound to the abdomen. The other two died from blunt force trauma related to the accident.”

“Was a gun found on site?”

“Yes, ma’am. It’s already been bagged for evidence.”

“Any witnesses?”

Haruto pointed at a woman who appeared to be in her late forties, standing off to the side speaking with another police officer. “Her name is Ms. Ria Kondo. She stated she was at the office late when she heard the accident. When she looked out the window, the car was already up in flames. And, then she swears she saw another person walking away from the scene.”

That grabbed Sango’s attention. “Really? Which direction did the person walk off in?”

He shook his head. “Unfortunately, she doesn’t know. She was so rattled that she could barely dial emergency.”

“Detective!”

Sango’s gaze swung to an investigator down the street. “Thanks, Fujimori. Keep this part of the street blocked off until we’ve been able to do a thorough walk-through. And, make sure that all proper information is collected from the witness in case we need her to come downtown to be interviewed.”

With a “Yes ma’am” from Haruto, Sango made her way to where a crime scene investigator was stooped down, looking at something on the pavement.

“What is it, Koma?” she asked as she looked over his shoulder to where his gaze concentrated. Shippou Koma was by far her favorite crime scene investigator. Working in homicide, they crossed paths quite often, and his spirited personality was always welcomed, considering they always met under bleak circumstances.

He pulled off a glove and lifted his cap to scratch his head full of red hair before pointing to a drop of blood on the pavement. “The way the blood hits the pavement suggests that the injured party was walking away from the car.”

“The witness did say she saw someone fleeing the scene,” Sango mused, tilting her head.

Shippou hooked his thumb in the direction of the subway entrance. “I tracked it down to the subway,” he said as he stood and began following the aforementioned path, pointing out the drops of blood along the way.

Sango trailed after him, the furrow in her brow deepening as they descended the stairs toward the platform. It was still very early on a Saturday, meaning there was no work-week bustle, and the other stragglers had been sent away by the police who had blocked off the scene. The blood trail led to the end of the platform, where the person would’ve boarded a train had it been pulled into the station. Sango glanced down both sides of the tracks, doubting someone who had injuries from a car accident would’ve been able to climb down and escape the tunnel - depending on the severity of the injuries, anyway.

“Did we talk to the station manager yet?” Sango asked, taking another sip of her now-lukewarm coffee.

Shippou grinned up at her, green eyes glinting mischievously. “Are you doubting me?”

Sango chuckled. “You’ve already taken care of it, haven’t you?”

He tilted his head. “Of course. I briefed Fujimori about my findings before you got here. Told him to have someone swing by the manager’s place and pick him up.”

“Koma, you really should join the academy,” she said. Always vigilant when it came to investigating crimes, Shippou performed better than some of the more experienced cops.

He shrugged as they made their way back up to the street. “You know me. I’m all about collecting the evidence. You’re the one made to catch the baddies.”

He had a point there. Sango had always had a passion for making the arrests, whereas Shippou enjoyed the more technical parts of the job. Still. She sometimes wished he was her partner instead of her current, too easy-going colleague, who she was sure would be his usual carefree self come Monday with his return from vacation.

Saying her farewell to Shippou, with his promise to finish up his investigation soon and start processing the evidence, Sango met up again with Haruto to do a final review before heading toward the precinct. “Hey, Fujimori,” she called as he finished instructing the witness not to leave the area in case they needed more information.

“Ma’am,” he greeted, making her cringe.

“Make sure the station manager comes down to the precinct as soon as possible. Also, make sure to get a warrant for the tapes at the platform.” She took a glance around the other buildings. Many of them were corporate offices, so there wasn’t too much foot traffic in this part of the city, but even still… “See if any of these buildings have cameras directed toward the scene, and while you’re at it, canvas for more witnesses.”

Haruto’s eyes widened as he followed her gaze to the surrounding buildings. Sango raised a brow, wondering if this was Haruto’s first crime scene. He had been promoted a few weeks ago, but this could’ve been his first major assignment. And, lucky for her, it was Sango’s job to take the lead until her partner returned.

Taking another glance around the crime scene - the charred remains of a car with three victims, possibility of foul play with a gun in evidence, and blood drops leading to the subway - Sango bit the inside of her cheek in disappointment. So much for her Saturday off. But like her father always used to say: crime doesn’t sleep.

“You’re going to have to eat something,” Miroku prodded gently with an amused smile.

Kagome glared up at him, swirling her spoon around the homemade soup he had brought her. The smell alone had nearly made her wretch, so she had no intention of actually eating it. “No, thanks. Not a fan.”

He sighed before moving to take her tray away from her, the soup now cold. “Don’t like pea soup?” he clarified. “I’ll have to let Kaede know.”

Kagome huffed and directed her attention toward the window. The mid-afternoon had brought gray clouds and distant thunder, making her feel a little stir-crazy, but Dr. Miyamoto had ordered strict bedrest for a little while so her leg could heal. It had given Kagome nothing but time to dwell on her situation, and no matter how hard she tried to remember, her memories remained locked up tight. Sometimes there were flashes - flickering moments that felt like a word on the tip of her tongue - but they were so brief, she couldn’t fully comprehend what they were before they were gone. One thing was for sure, though - a bad feeling gnawed at the pit of her stomach, an unease she couldn’t quell, and she knew trouble brewed for her. It was strange. She could remember how the world worked and what things were, but when it came to her own past, it remained a mystery.

All the more reason why she needed to escape this place. These people had brought her into their care and treated her injuries without even a ‘thanks’ from her. She was far from trusting them, but at the moment, she couldn’t even trust herself.

“On the bright side,” Miroku continued, trying to make conversation, “at least you’re starting to remember something.”

Kagome raised a brow. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you don’t like pea soup,” he pointed out with a chuckle.

She frowned. “I’d hardly call that remembering.”

Miroku shrugged, but went silent. He studied her, noting the way her body curled in on itself, her right arm resting over her abdomen, the rigidness of her shoulders. She had her guard up, something he had taken note of since she had woken that morning. He couldn’t imagine what was going through her head right now, but he knew one thing.

If they were ever going to get her on the road to healing - both mentally and physically - she would need to learn how to relax.

“Do you know how to play cards?” Miroku’s question was met with an are-you-fucking-kidding-me-right-now glare, and his cheeks warmed from the blatant ridiculousness of his inquiry. “Ah, my fault. Well, let me teach you a few games.”

He pulled out a deck of cards from a drawer and set up a table between him and Kagome’s bed. After quickly shuffling, he began dealing to each of them a set of seven cards. At first, Kagome ignored his friendly gesture, not at all in the mood to play such a silly game when her entire life was in uproar. But the longer he sat there with bright eyes and a seemingly harmless smile, the more Kagome felt her willpower breaking down.

“Come on,” he urged her, gesturing to the pile of cards she had yet to touch. “What harm could a card game do? It’s not like there’s a lot to do in this room.”

Kagome had to admit he had a point. Reluctantly, she picked up her hand, and he quickly explained the rules. The concept was pretty foreign to her - did she ever play cards before? - and it took a few minutes for her to grasp the strategy of the game, but before long an hour had passed.

“I win again,” Miroku cheered, writing some numbers on a pad of paper.

Kagome huffed, laying her cards down, signaling she was over his poor attempt at distraction. It wasn’t as if she didn’t appreciate him trying to keep her mind busy, but frankly, it was hard to concentrate on anything but the blank canvas of her mind. She bit her lip, wondering who she was and where she had come from. There were a few details that she couldn’t ignore - like the fact she had a gun with her, and she had been injured somehow. Not to mention the request she had made to not involve the police. None of it sounded good to her.

Suddenly, thunder rumbled loud overhead and a streak of lightning lit up the sky as rain began to fall.

The crack of a gun going off left a deafening ringing in her ears. Her breath came in heavy rasps as her gaze fell on the body of a person lying in the alleyway before her. Someone was shouting, a cry of a name, a rush of tears. And, then she was running, footsteps splashing through puddles as the night shrouded her in its anonymity.

With an instantaneous, exclaimed cry, Kagome lurched forward, eyes wide. “No!”

“Hey!” Miroku called out, immediately standing and coming to her side, hand finding a gentle hold on her shoulder. “Kagome!”

“I-I-,” she murmured, her mind captured by the image of the person lifeless on the ground, her ears ringing with the deafening sound of a gunshot.

“What happened?” Miroku asked, his voice rising with concern as he dipped his head to peer at her. “Kagome, where did you go just now?”

She shook her head, wrapping an arm around herself. Her entire body trembled, the sins of her past beginning to retake their grip on her. There was something dark buried in her memories, something she couldn’t run from, and something she knew she may not survive.

Just who AM I?

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #miroku #sango #mirsan #fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #the closest moment to the dawn #my fanfiction #sassy stays classy

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sorryimanon · 3 years

Text

Pairings: Bakugou x fem!Reader

Tags: 18+, dirty talk, explicit scenes, mutual masturbation, penetration, bakugou being a switch, reader is a dom, lots of back and forth between characters, slow burn

A/N: this was supposed to be divided into two parts but surprise, surprise! i got lazy :) i had so much writing this. this might be my favorite fic ive written so far! this is a loooong one. enjoy!

P.S this is the unedited ver. I will posting the final on my AO3 account (sorryimanon)

Katsuki disliked her. No, he absolutely loathed her. Ever since she stepped foot into the classroom, it was destined for there to be a hostile barrier between the two of them. Granted, all she did was sweetly greet him like the rest of her fellow classmates, but Katsuki completely saw through her fading facade and ignored the kind gesture with a threatening showcase of his quirk.

"Being nice won't get you anywhere, baka," he snarled, glaring intensely at her all the while everyone watched the whole scene unfold.

He treated her like a foolish peasant after that initial encounter, disregarding her in any way shape or form as disgust shone through his eyes.

Y/N persevered the oncoming school years despite the blonde breathing down her neck consistently everyday. Katsuki's aggressive nature towards her subsided once graduation commenced, alluding to the blossoming maturity each student should have endured before branching off into hero work.

Not long after the celebratory succession, y/n bounced to several agencies that offered the same beneficial agreements for her. None caught her attention. Until one day she received a recommendation from Endeavor himself to work full time at his agency. Of course she accepted it and immediately wrote her sloppy signature down on the contract. Unbeknownst to her excitement, a separate copy of the contract was sent to another uprising hero around her age group.

So when she strutted in that morning of orientation, she never expected to see the very infamous Katsuki Bakugou slouched on one of the many chairs in the meeting room. Her throat tightened as she took a seat next to him, his height still freakishly tall even when they were just sitting. Staring straight forward to prevent from any means of eye contact with him, he lowered his head at her eye level and crooked a half smile.

"I'm gonna make you regret for even considering joining here, extra." A fleck of his spit hit the side of her face. Learning from her past encounters with Katsuki, y/n held her tongue in hopes for him to feel satisfied enough to leave her alone.

Thankfully their office hours were inconsistent to where they didn't intervene with each other, neither of them awkwardly meeting in the lobby or an elevator. However, sometimes y/n and Bakugou would desire the same craving for a caffeinated beverage and find themselves standing shoulder to shoulder by the coffee machine.

Bakugou likes his coffee black, she mentally jotted down as she intently watched his usual routine of preparing the beverage.

Like the asshole he is, Bakugou would purposely tip the mug and let a few trickles of the hot liquid burn her hand. He's done this every single time before he leaves y/n alone in the break room. Deep down, he relishes in the strained expression on her face when he inflicts the pain upon her. Thoughts danced across his head. Some involving him blasting y/n into the stratosphere to her kissing the tips of his boots for mercy. Either way, her being so submissive and, dare he say, a pussy to stand her ground sufficed him enough for the time being. But sometimes it pissed him off.

The constant harassment by the angry blonde went unnoticed by their other colleagues, including Endeavor, leaving y/n to prepare every morning to face the wrath of Katsuki Bakugou. His verbal abuse never wavered, occasionally whispering under his breath "weakling" or "stupid girl" whenever the pair were in the same room together. One time he sent her on a wild goose chase to find a missing case file that miraculously disappeared from her desk while she was copying something in the other room. Hours later, she soon discovers the said file tucked behind Katsuki's arm, snatching it from his grip and not once reprimanding him for wasting her time. Y/N eventually got used to it. Adapting to the annual insults of her work ethics and anything he could muster up from his sleeve. Both finally accepted their twisted dynamic, and became accustomed to the work lifestyle.

Months later, the dynamic soon changed when Endeavor announced an emergency meeting with everyone in the building. Apparently a new wave of villains have been reigning terror over the city, causing major damages and fatalities in a matter of weeks. Rumors started to circulate that the new generation of heroes don't have the capabilities to apprehend this group of evil doers. In the meeting, Endeavor made it clear for everyone to be partnered up before he dismisses them to patrol for the night, suggesting that pairing up with someone who is complimentary to your quirk is efficient for when dealing with these kinds of villains.

That's why y/n didn't voice her complaint when she inevitably got matched with Bakugou. His quirk alone was powerful already. With both of their quirks combined, there's no telling how the mission will go, but she surprisingly feels safe knowing he'll be sticking by her side throughout the rest of the night. It'll be a quick mission, then they'll return back to their previous mundane duties in the office. Back to Katsuki's mental and verbal torment.

"Could you move any slower?" Katsuki barked as both he and y/n were taking a quick stroll through the public park, scoping out for any signs of danger.

She was a step behind him, careful not to bump his shoulder or invade his space. She mumbled out a quick apology and fastened her pace, catching up to the man in gear. Tonight he wore his alternative hero costume, the design made specifically for when the temperature reaches an undesirable degree. The collar touched below the tip of his chin, his chiseled chest covered with the thick black material, and his arms protected from the cold with the addition of sleeves.

"Fucking weakling..." she heard him mumble once they circled the perimeter again.

Bakugou insisted for them to scout out as many places as possible in hopes for an encounter. He desperately needs any excuse for some action, to use his quirk out of anger. Previously, they patrolled the empty plaza of Tatoone shopping center. Other heroes were there as well, but still no signs of any villains lurking in the dark. For the third time, they met up at the center of the park after making another round, both already tired of the tedious task.

"Just our fucking luck. Still no signs of those stupid villains. I guess we should patrol the outskirts of-."

A bright luminescent beam struck the middle of Bakugou's chest cavity, ricocheting him backwards to slam against the trunk of a large tree, knocking him unconscious instantly. Startled, y/n's eyes frantically searched for the perpetrator, only to meet a pair of glowing green orbs staring right back. She shifted her stance in preparation for their next attack, blocking Bakugou's lifeless body from the villains view. Another beam shot from the darkness, only this time y/n counter balanced the blow by rolling to side, the blast missing her by a couple of feet. Y/N quickly raised to her feet and ran head first towards the dark figure. Without preamble, the figure shot multiple beams at the hero, each one emitting from the void of their chest.

Y/N dodged the bright suffocating strips of light, her feet shuffling and heart racing due to the adrenaline rush. However, she miscalculated her next move which allowed the figure to strike her left shoulder when she was distracted for a split second. Pain shot throughout her shoulder blade. Eyes drawn to a close, her hand shot up to cradle the injury. The intense sensation started to spread from the upper half of her body to below. Everything suddenly became numb, including her sensors. She couldn't feel the tips of her digits nor move any part of her face. The muscles in her legs soon stopped contracting, resulting in her knees giving out. She felt the hard, coarse ground beneath her as the darkness began to swallow up her line of vision. The last thing she saw was a scuffed up Bakugou laying face flat on the drenched grass.

- Y/N stirred awake, lifting one of her half lidded eyes expecting to see the villain looming over her tired body. But all she saw was the popcorn ceiling sheltering her, an overhead fan turned on and the curtains tightly shut. She slowly inclined her body upright and peeled the covers from her clammy figure. Still in the process of waking up, she made her way to the attached bathroom by the bed and located the sink. She splashed the cold water on her face, letting the droplets drench the clothes she was currently wearing. Turning off the facet, she craned her head to view the damage on her shoulder in the mirror. But how come she couldn't recognize herself?

Tuffs of blonde spiked out from her head. Her eyes weren't the same color either. Red crimson irises replaced the ones she had before. The injury from last night on her shoulder wasn't there no more, but she took sight at how broad they became. And she wasn't wearing her typical pajama top and bottoms. This morning she was clad in a black tank top and a pair of soft sweat pants.

No, this can't be true. This has to be some sick nightmare. Jolting backwards on her heel, she let out a terrible shriek. After screaming for a good minute, she calmed down and rested her hands on the bathroom counter, transfixed on the reflection in front of her.

"I-I somehow transformed into Bakugou!" The deep timbre voice of bakugou replaced her own. She tugged on the unkept hair and knitted her eyes shut. "This is only a dream. I'm dreaming right? I can't possibly be in Bakugou's body."

A loud ringing noise alerted y/n to open her eyes again. It was coming from her bedroom. Correction, his bedroom. She glanced at herself in the mirror one more time before retrieving the phone that was stuffed in a green duffel bag. Her eyes widened. She recognized her phone number on the screen. Knowing the circumstances, she pressed answered and awaited for the receiver on the other end to speak.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

"So, we somehow switched bodies because of being struck by that villains quirk the other night. How long did they say this will last then?" Y/N questioned Bakugou the following morning once they agreed to meet up somewhere in private. Right now they were sitting across from each other on a stone bench by the lake, the morning sun peaking through the tall skyscrapers behind them.

Bakugou shrugged his shoulders, technically hers, and said, "Endeavor informed me it'll probably linger for a good week. He also wanted us to not be on duty till we recuperate from this, saying that the side effects will drain our bodies." He couldn't muster up the courage to stare at her, because all he would see is the reflection of himself. "Unfortunately the villain fled the scene before the others arrived to retrieve us. They're still out there causing havoc."

"This is freaking weird."

"Fucking."

Y/N tilted her head in confusion. Across from her, Bakugou pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in frustration.

"If you're gonna be me for a whole week then you might as well not sugar coat my vocabulary-dumbass."

Right, she now has to devote her time and effort into mirroring Bakugou's explosive personality. But that also means he too has to put on a show in order to persuade everyone he was her.

"Oh, okay..." she started but tensed up when realizing Bakugou was gazing expectantly at her. "D-Dumbass?"

Katsuki groaned as he rolled his eyes at her failed attempt of portraying him.

"This is going to be a long ass week."

- Bakugou grunted in disgust as he scavenged through y/n's closet for something to wear. Every piece of clothing so far hasn't met his criteria of approval to put on his body. There was an unnecessary amount of yoga pants and the most ugliest oversized graphic tees he's ever laid his eyes upon stored in her drawer. Growing up in a household of highly praised designers, the influence shifted his taste in fashion over the years. So, he made the rational decision to make a quick trip to the mall and purchase a few outfits for himself. Considering he's going to be in this body for a whole week, maybe even more, he might as well present himself looking ten times better than she ever has.

He tittered around the mall window shopping, entering store after store leaving with a handful of clothes in plastic and paper bags. So far he bought some outfits that edged a little on the fancy side, but paid no mind to his bank account. Bakugou guesstimated y/n's size during the venture, not wanting to pry or see what's underneath these restricting fabrics. He was about to leave when a frilly-pink themed store caught his attention.

It's a lingerie store, Bakugou thought as he neared closer to the entrance.

Posters inside the displays showcased attractive half naked women clad in nothing but the delicate material. Not to mention they were all posing seductively. An involuntary image of y/n flashed across his eyes, her imitating the same lustrous pose as well as wearing the sheer lingerie like the women behind the glass. Steams of heat practically blowed out from his ears, along with the embarrassing shade of pink panting his cheeks. He clamped a hand on his mouth, eyes widen in disbelief.

The fuck did I just imagine? There's no way in hell that just happened!

He must've been loitering there for awhile because a young girl, possibly his age, was standing in the threshold of the store wearing a pastel pink apron, giving him a welcoming smile.

She spoke, "Looking to shop for something, ma'am?"

Remembering back to y/n's distasteful clothing, he noted that she also lacked having any 'pretty' undergarments. It wasn't that he intentionally raided through her underwear, he just so happen to have stumbled upon the almost empty drawer by accident. In retrospect, he's doing her a favor. He cleared his throat before speaking.

"Yes actually. Can you show me your most expensive set?" - "To your left! That dudes been camping by that spot since the match. He'll snipe you in the open!" Kirishima informed y/n as they both sat criss cross on the cushioned couch.

They've been playing the same game for hours. Y/N prayed for at least one water break or grab something quick to eat since they haven't moved an inch from their spots. Kirishima promised after this match he'll order some takeout for the both of them, but he said the same thing 8 matches ago. All she could do for now was pretend to be immersed in the game, getting a couple of impressive kills here and there, subsequently ranking her to a bronze level. Her digits were beginning to cramp up due to the repetitive moments of smashing down on the labeled buttons on the wireless controller. The screen across from them suddenly went dark and flashed the scoreboard from the recent match. Another successful victory.

"BOOYAAA!!!!" Kirishima clapped his hands and did a celebratory dance. "Ah, good game Bakugou."

Y/N flinched from hearing the blondes name.

"Kirishima, it's Y/N," she reluctantly reminded him.

Kirishima's whole demeanor went south. He chucked out a dry laugh and nervously started rubbing the back of his neck.

"R-Right sorry. Couldn't help myself. I mean, I am looking at Bakugou. Same face, voice, hair, and scary eyes."

After being battered by the villains quirk, Kirishima and Sun Eater were the ones to retrieve them before law enforcement shortly arrived once the perpetrator fled the scene. They were all under one strict oath to not mention this to the public, or else everyone’s image will tarnished and skew the potential of our future rankings.

"I know. I'm still trying to process this whole thing. I've been avoiding all the mirrors in the apartment since I came back." Y/N stood up from the couch and sauntered over to her designated bedroom for the week. She reached for the door handle but stiffened when a pair of hardened hands rested on her broad shoulders.

"Aye, don't worry so much. I bet you Bakugou is thinking the same thing. This week will be over before you know it," he absentmindedly began massaging the area between your shoulder blades and neck.

Does he always treat Bakugou like this despite that nasty little Pomeranian being a complete asshole to everyone?

"Kirishima?"

"Yeah?"

"What is Bakugou like around you?"

The red head hummed to himself at the random question, thinking of a perfect answer to her curiosity.

"The same how he was in high school except more tamer I guess. But I enjoy his presence none the less."

Then why does he seem to unleash his untamed feelings towards me specifically?

Y/N sighed, obviously not satisfied with that answer.

"Out of everybody, he seems to despise me more and more like it's a game," she said without realizing.

"You know how he is Y/N. He's very abrasive and blunt when it comes to other people's emotions, but deep down I know he only acts like that because he wants to present a strong image in front of everyone," he started. "He's scared of others looking down on him, I know that for sure. But I always looked up to Bakugou from the day I personally got to know him. So, I guess he just stayed by my side because of my admiration for him."

Bakugou is always putting up a front then.

"Interesting...well I'm gonna go to bed now. Thanks for keeping me company," y/n said once again reaching for the knob and opening the door, ignoring the red heads pleas for her not go to sleep on an empty stomach. -

The next day Bakugou found himself inside y/n's bathroom, feet firmly planted on the tiled floor not daring to move an inch. Even though he wasn't in his own body that didn't stop him from paying a visit to the gym this morning. He went extra hard on every machine, not caring about the wandering eyes men gave him while he dead lifted weights. Drenched in nothing but his own glistening sweat, Bakugou entered y/n's small apartment as he dragged his tired feet to the bedroom he was now familiarized with.

Something foul wafted into his nostrils, almost making him teary eyed to the stench. He tried to recall the last time he took a shower. Vaguely he remembers washing his body the morning before he got attack by the powerful quirk. It's been several days since then. This was one thing he didn't want to endure during his experience of switching bodies. He's been neglecting his own hygiene to avoid seeing y/n's exposed body parts. Changing out from her clothes with closed eyes was difficult enough, but taking a fucking shower?! Such a shitty predicament. But he can't smell like this for the remainder of being stuck in this body. He'll die of suffocation.

Ah fuck, that must mean she has to take a shower as well. Or worse, she already has and saw everything.

His eye twitched, lips trembling in fear at what he's about to witness.

Fuck it, I can't go out smelling like shit!

With shaky fingers he began stripping, eyes trained on anything but y/n's figure, the faint sound of the water streaming white noise to him. Her gym clothes piled on the floor, Katsuki slipped into the shower, head titled slightly to view only the shower head. He messed around with the chrome handle, indecisive on what temperature he wanted. Settled onto cold to awaken his sluggish state, he positioned himself under the shower head, goosebumps prickling his skin due to the sudden drop of temperature. Water droplets streamed down and canaled to his lower regions, the sensation relaxing his anxiousness just a smidge. He surveyed the options y/n had laid out for hair care products and grabbed the nearest one. Rubbing the body wash into the palms of his hands, he caught himself, arm mid raised getting ready to wash each crevice of his body.

Shit shit shit shit

The hand in front of him began shaking.

She won't know. It's not like I'm touching her sexually, I'm just keeping her clean for fucks sake!

As gentle as he could, Bakugou washed away the soapy residue, fingers cautiously ghosting over anything perking out. A moment too soon, he accidentally skimmed over her chest a little too fast, the tips of his fingers touching something that was hard and protruding. His breathing hitched.

I just felt her fucking nipple!

But fuck, it strangely felt quite pleasant. Pleasurable even if he had to admit.

He continued on with his previous ministrations, cupping her boobs like a madman and swiping one thumb over the taunt surface to test the waters. A fierce, tingling sensation surged shivers down his spine. An unsolicited low moan spurred out from the blonde.

"Hah!"

What the hell?! Why am I still touching her tits? And why am I enjoying it?

Finishing up his routine quickly, Bakugou snatched a towel from the cabinet and rubbed away all the sinful thoughts desperately from his head, a constant fight between his morals and neediness. Nobody will never know what he committed in the confines of her own apartment. And it'll fucking stay like that till on his death bed.

I practically assaulted her. I'm so fucking disgusting

For the rest of the remaining day, Bakugou planned on meeting up with Kirishima to hangout. He wanted to coerce the red head into talking about anything other than y/n. His mind needs the relief. He needs this spell to be over with.

He can't stand trying to fit into women's jeans any longer - Kirishima woke up that morning to a chorus of shrieks. Girlish shrieks, might he add. He thought maybe the neighbors were selfishly doing not-so-holy-things at the peak of dawn. But him and Katsuki were resided on the highest level of the penthouse, them being the only residents on the empty floor. It clicked once he heard his name through the thin walls.

"Ah! Y/N I'm coming!" He leaped from his bed and reached y/n's, technically Bakugou's, room in a matter of seconds.

Y/N's body twitched to the sound of the door being slammed open, the impact rattling the very few wall decorations in the blondes space. Standing in the threshold was the friendly red head, huffing and puffing air out of his chest like he just got done running a marathon.

"K-Kiri! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to wake you up!" Her words afterwards became a jumbled mess, realizing the predicament she pushed herself into.

"Hey, hey, calm down! Tell me what's wrong. It sounded like you were in pain. Did you hurt yourself anywhere?" The red had to remind himself this was indeed another person inside Bakugou's body, because Bakugou would never apologize repeatedly for the sake of apologizing in his entire life.

Y/N was looking quite pallid now, sheepishly tugging on the black covers of the bed, trying to find the easiest way on how to lay this out to her new roommate.

"Well...I just...I woke up to - ah crap."

Instead of explaining her situation, she pulled back the blanket to show kiri the thing protruding between her uncommonly, muscular legs. Kirishima's eyes widen instantaneously, eating up the pitched tent inside her basketball shorts. Oddly enough, this wasn't his first rodeo upon seeing the blonde with a boner. They were dudes. And dudes living together were bound to witness each other's 'flesh swords', he'd like to put it.

"Oh, morning wood? That's pretty normal. Nothing to fret y/n!" He dismissed her with the wave of his hand. "Bakugou gets them all the time! In fact, I remember he'd get them after sparring sessions back in our U.A days-."

"Okayyyyy, Never mind that! I know I have a boner. Just exactly how do I get rid of it?!"

"You mean, you don't know? Haven't you been taught this in Sex Ed class?" Kiri was actually curious as to why she doesn't know nor remember. He surly does. Learning about the human body by the infamous sultry teacher, Midnight, engraved so much information into his tiny-teenage brain.

"That was considered an extra curricular class. I took a CPR class instead."

"Right well, from what she taught us and from my own personal experience, you gotta rub one out."

Y/N's whole face contorted into a confused mess of disgust.

"Rub a what now?" She asked, although she had a feeling what the euphemism meant.

Kiri's face blotched red, the tint flushing to his chest as well. The man was evidently embarrassed about having this conversation with someone who wasn't Bakugou.

"I essentially mean you gotta masturbate. Ya know, in order to calm down your boner," he paused seeing how distraught y/n became. "It won't hurt I promise you! Don't worry, it feels really good! Like, eating ice cream good! Ah no that's not a good analogy!"

"This is so fucking horrifying..." Y/N poked at the thing, rightfully known as his dick, and kept starring as if it might miraculously subside to its original size.

Kiri coughed, grabbing her attention away from Bakugou's dick.

"He has lotion stashed in his drawer," he started, but malfunctioned seconds later. He revealed something private to someone that bakugou condemned as a 'weakling'. "That is if you need it for lubricant. It's kind of tough to jerk off dry..." his sentence fell off midway.

Y/N mumbled out an "Ok", and retrieved said lotion from the lower bunk of his drawers. She felt a pair of eyes on her. Kiri was still standing awkwardly by the doorway, unsure wether or not if that's his cue to leave.

"Um, thanks Kiri. You can leave now," she plopped back onto Bakugou's king sized bed.

This man sleeps alone. He doesn't need a ginormous bed all to himself.

"R-Right! Well, enjoy jerking off- ah no I meant - I didn't word that correctly! Ah geez, see ya later!" He sprinted out the door like his life depended on it.

Locking the door behind her, y/n forced herself into the attached bathroom, the lotion burning the palms of her hand each second. Once she settled down on the lid of the toilet, she shimmied out from his loose basketball shorts, letting them pool at her ankles.

If there's one thing she learned that morning, it was that being a man had its weird benefits. - "Slow down Bakugou! Let me at least catch up before you black out!" Kirishima was on his third shot while Bakugou just downed his sixth one for the night.

The blonde growled under his breath and tugged the red head by his collar to his mouth.

"Fucking idiot, don't call me that. It's y/n when we're out in public," he loosens his grip and snatches kiri's shot and tips his head back to drain it all down his throat, the burning sensation long gone.

"Ugh, my brain can't keep up with this whole switching body shit. It's been so hard back at the apartment." He internally cringes from the recollection of y/n popping her first boner this morning.

"What do you mean? Has that dumbass been giving you a hard time? If she has, I'll give her a piece of my mind."

"Not at all! She's been a saint while living with me. Which by the way, how come you can't just live at the penthouse while y/n stays at her place?

While Kirishima was talking, Bakugou ordered another round of shots. The bartender shoved a whole bottle of Fireball towards the man, saving him in the future to not ask anymore. The young server gave Bakugou a sly wink and returned back to serving other customers down the line. Cheeks flushed red, Bakugou thinks the man behind the bar was being too nice for his liking. He poured two more shots while keeping an eye on the average looking employee. If kirishima kept babbling, he might as well funnel the entire bottle in one sitting.

"I'm just following endeavors orders. We're not supposed to gain attention from those stupid reporters that camp outside our penthouse," he takes another swing of the warm liquid. "I'd rather fucking be quirkless than mistaken for having any rumored relations with her."

"Can I ask a genuine question? How come you hate y/n so much?"

"I don't hate her, I dislike her. There's a difference."

"I don't know man. Sometimes I mistaken your dislike with love."

"EXCUSE ME? IM NOT IN LOVE OF THAT BITCH?!"

"C'mon dude, I'm sensing a lot of denial from you. Also, shouldn't you be acting like her right now? She's very soft spoken if I'm not mistaken,"

"I'm not in denial idiot. I hate how soft she speaks. I hate how sickeningly kind she is even though nobody deserves it. I hate how she wastes her talented quirk and doesn't see the potential. She's a lost cause Kiri. She won't last for much longer in this field if she keeps this up."

"Wow, for someone who dislikes her as such, you surly sound like you care about heeeerrrrrr," kirshima drawled out in a sing-song voice.

"Shut up and finish your shot, shitty hair."

When the blonde was driving back to her apartment later that night, he slammed his fists against the steering wheel when an afterthought came to him.

His whole reasoning as to why he went out in the first place, and he can't seem to restrict himself from talking about the girl he's trapped in.

Even in this goddamn body I can't seem to steer clear from y/n talk! - Izuku had to do a double take when he entered the small coffee shop. Something about seeing the pensive blonde sitting patiently in a booth by the corner really made him feel like he was sucked into another dimension. Today y/n was wearing a white v-neck with a wool green cardigan and tight black jeans.

Kacchan owns cardigans? He thought, clearly amused.

Upon hearing the ding coming from the door, Y/N raised her head from her phone and waved Izuku over to her table. The poor man seemed like he was going combust right there. It's been awhile since he's spoken to his old classmate.

The green haired hero slid into the booth across from her and immediately started speaking Deku language.

"H-Hey Kacchan! Boy it's been awhile hasn't it? I was a little stunned seeing your message this morning asking to hangout. I'm sorry that I couldn't meet up sooner. I had an early patrol shift from 9 to 5. You might know how that feels, right?! Oh gosh I'm sounding like an adult. Can you believe we're adults-."

"Midor- I mean Deku, I called you up to ask about if you have any leads on the villain with the body switching quirk?" She cut him off.

"Oh yeah, that villain has been spotted a few times since the last attack. Of course most of my team hasn't been able to reprimand them. A few close calls though. But I heard two people from your sector got hit by the quirk! Are they doing okay?"

I hate lying to those big freaking green eyes.

"That's not true. They got hurt, but no one was attacked by their quirk. I just need to know if you have any information on the quirk in particular and what to do in order to reverse it."

Underneath the table, Izuku fumbled inside his pockets in search for his mini notebook. He still obtained the habit of jotting down everything, literally everything, in hopes the information will provide any source of aide. Izuku became all jittery and excited at the thought of sharing anything with Kacchan!

The small, crinkled notebook was slid across the table, hitting the tips of y/n's knuckles.

"Page 124, the first indent I wrote. It's mainly about my own conspiracy on what the villains quirk is. That was before their first debut of course. But now since we know it's a type of body switching quirk, I tried to pin point on what exactly lifts the quirks effect on the victim," Izuku explained casually while y/n skimmed through the notes and passages. "I did a little detective work on my own and contacted the people who were attacked by the villain. From what I gathered, let's just say- it's a bit taboo ."

This piqued her interest.

"What do you mean by, taboo?"

The man began to wave his hands around fervently in attempt to steer the blonde away from prying more. But y/n swatted Izuku's hand and continued reading the sloppy inscriptions.

Her eyes popped out from her sockets.

"I have to what?!" A few civilians stared in their direction, obviously gravitated to the familiar gruff voice.

"Calm down Kacchan! Why are you so angry for?"

Y/N rubbed her temple all the while wanting to slowly die than endure anymore of this.

"Nothing. Just- Ugh...Is it alright if I borrow this?"

"Y-Yeah! Kacchan can borrow anything from me as long as he returns it!" There was that gleam again in his eyes.

"Thanks Izuku, I owe you one!" She squeezed the greenettes freckled hand before leaving the booth and the shop all together.

Still in the cafe, Izuku sat frozen as if someone walked in with gun. Internally though, he was screaming. -

Y/N: Please call me. It's urgent

It was a Friday night when Bakugou received the cryptic message from her. He was in the middle of watching his true crime show when the annoying ding from his phone went off. For once, he just wanted to relax his mind and go on auto pilot without stressing his already strained body. It's the whole principle of Friday's. To fuck off and ignore everyone. What's so fucking important for her to text him out of the blue then?

Another acute ding.

Bakugou peeked over his shoulder to see who disrupted him this time.

Y/N: Bakugou, we need to talk. This isn't something to ignore.

He rolled his eyes and retrained his focus on the tv screen.

Ding Ding Ding

"FOR FUCK SAKE!" He released an animalistic growl from the depths of his throat, scratching his voice box even more. His fingers typed away aggressively, not bothering to read her previous messages.

BK: Leave me the fuck alone. You're to only text me if it involves with the reverse of this stupid quirk 🖕🏼

Three dots appeared immediately after he sent that. Bakugou started losing his patience while waiting for her response. He hated wasting precious time, especially if there was a second party involved. Her message finally delivered. Bakugou's eyes grew larger in size as he read the text.

Y/N: that's why I'm texting you idiot 🙄 I met up with Midoriya today and he may have given me the solution to our problem.

He bit down hard on his bottom lip as he typed out his last text message to her.

BK: fine. come over then. we can talk about it when you get here.

This time he didn't wait for her to respond back and began cleaning her apartment. - Feeling nervous was an understatement. Y/N felt like she was driving herself to her own execution. Bakugou being the one to carry out the death sentence. She didn't doubt the blonde would be elated at the idea of her being put under a torture device.

Okay, maybe he wasn't too malice to actually do it, but he probably entertained the thought.

Thankfully Bakugou's penthouse wasn't far from her own apartment, saving her much needed gas in case he goes ballistic on her.

The door flew open when she arrived shortly after one knock, revealing a very sluggish looking Y/N shooting daggers at her. Well, at least her body wasn't dressed in bruises or burn marks. That's a win. Bakugou paired herself with a cute crop top and silky pajama shorts. He's got taste she'll give him that.

Her apartment remained exactly the same as she left it when they both were ordered to switch residency's. Only a few traces of Bakugou were found. Mainly in the kitchen, where all his fancy cooking equipment and utensils were laid out. Unlike him, she ate out almost every night due to the red head being incompetent in the kitchen. He almost burnt down the complex last night. He relied upon his friend to do most of the cooking in their household.

The blonde briskly brushed passed her to sit on the couch, slinging his feet on the coffee table to make himself comfortable. Too comfortable, she noted.

"Well, spill it. What did the damn nerd tell you that could help us with this shit?" He inquired without preamble.

Like a hero, she was here on a mission. A mission that needs to be completed as soon as possible, even if the mission itself was ludicrous. She reached into her jacket pocket to retrieve the mini book, and flipped soundlessly to the page Izuku marked for her.

"On here it says that the quirk can last up to a week, maybe even more, depending on the victim(s). The effected will experience dry eyes, nausea, insomnia, painful migraines, and uncontrollable shaking due to being inside another persons body. They must let the quirk take its course then," she read out loud, ignoring Bakugou's groans of annoyance. "But, for rare cases, there have been reports of one's libido being greatly impacted. The victim will be in constant, insurmountable pain unless they relief themselves, then the two bodies will return back to normal."

To her surprise, Bakugou didn't show an ounce of indignation after hearing this piece of information. He seemed almost indifferent.

And there's no denying the truth. Both of their hormones have been off the rails. Ever since the incident in the shower, Bakugou has caught himself numerous times touching Y/N's boobs. Coping a sly feel as he cooked, cleaned, and even while he scrolled through his social media. Sometimes her ass as well to see if it felt good in his hands. Y/N was no saint either. Sporting boners every hour for no particular reason. All the blood rushing to her lower region became unbearable when she didn't take care of it. Kirishima kept reassuring her that it's natural for a man to get them a lot. But how much was too much?

He threw his hands up in the air and scoffs. "That's it? I just gotta jack off and then we're free from this curse?"

This is the part she dreaded the most. An uncomfortable heat flash roused up her face, a deep shade of red inching across her cheeks and nose.

"No. That's not what it means. We basically have to...ya know...," she paused mid sentence, too bashful to finish, desperately wanting Bakugou to put two and two together.

She shrunk in her position as the blonde narrowed his eyes at her.

"We have to fuck each other?" He profoundly acclaimed.

"Don't put it like that! But yeah, technically, we have to...help relief each other in order to switch back."

"If you wanted to jump my bones so bad you could've just asked." He leans back against the couch, arm draped lazily over the shoulder of the furniture, along with a playful smirk tugging up on the corners of his mouth. Y/N's blood ran cold when she felt the tiniest twitch down below. Her borrowed reproductive organ is betraying her!

"Do you want to be in constant pain till this all wears off? Or do you want to get this over with and never talk to each other again?" Y/N shuffled more towards the abrasive man, a strong tidal wave of anger rising within her.

"It won't matter because you always wound up in my presence anyway. Like a fucking pest that won't leave me alone." Without realizing it, Bakugou got up from his spot on the couch and marched over to Y/N, who at the moment looked like she was about to pop a blood vessel.

Another thing he hated about switching bodies was the fact that everyone towered over him, despite him being on his tippy toes. The woman in front of him acclimated his height, giving her the upperhand if they were to battle it out right now. If anything he could kick her shins at best.

"Whatever...I'm leaving," was all she said before storming off to the front door, grabbing her things along with her as she grew farther from him.

Katsuki's legs were moving on their own. His hand reached out and grabbed Y/N's forearm, halting her movements altogether. She's clearly enraged, thrashing her body back and forth to loosen his grip on her. He eventually grew tired of her stubborness and secured his grip on both of her arms, trapping her between the door and his body, producing a loud 'thump!'. Although he was in her body, he still carried his strength. In a matter of seconds, both Y/N and Bakugou were chest to chest now, their centers tapping aganist each other. She averted her gaze to the floor, as if their shoes were more interesting than this whole shitshow of a dilema. Bakugou squeezed her shoudlers, a little too much for her liking, to gain her attention again.

"I didn't say no, did I?" he asked hotly, his warm breath hitting her collarbones. An ice cold shiver ran down her spine, causing her breathing to hitch. Bakugou noticed her sudden stiffness and began rubbing gentle circles into the tender flesh of her skin. "Hoho, someone's excited aren't they?"

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows and backed up further into the wooden door. But her question was soon to be answered as she followed Bakugou's hungry gaze to the prominent bludge taunting from her pants. Betrayed once again by her unstable horniness!

"Guess I'm not the only one," she accuses once spotting the definite wet stain around Bakugou's crotch. He smirked at that.

"Take care of it then," his voice oozed of seduction and want, rewarding him another twitch in your tight pants. The libido was taking full effect now, any animosity they had before was thrown out the window. Past arguments also long forgotten. Their main priority at the moment was to experience the sweet relief of coming undone.

Y/N darted her hand down to the spot Bakugou needed attention from, and cupped his crotch with her abnormally large hand. Bakugou lets out a shaky exhale as her fingers danced around the sensitive area. One of her fingers moved instinctively, feeling how drenched he was in his panties, and rubbed the underside to get a better feel of the sex.

"You're so wet Bakugou," Y/N mused softly. She leaned forward, searching into Bakugou's eyes for any signs of him wanting this to end. But the pool of his irises were blown out, no tint of your original color in them anymore. "Do you want more?"

He nodded quickly, his hair bobbing up and down. Y/N chuckled and removed her hand from its previous position to the hem of Bakugou's shorts, teasingly toying the waistband. She slipped smoothly into his shorts, tickling him in the process, and toyed with the corners of his panties before moving them aside so she could have access to the thing she's been craving to touch. Wetness lathered up her fingers with just one swipe, causing Bakugou to purse his lips and shut his eyes tightly.

"Is Bakugou embarrassed? Are you mad that I have the upper hand now? After all those years of verbally tormenting me, you can't handle my simple touch?" She whispered dangerously close into his ear. During this, she couldn't tell if he was pissed or turned on. Maybe a mixture of both, but she took pride in his strained expression.

"W-Watch your goddamn mouth. Or do I need to shut you up myself, eh?" By shutting her up, he meant mirroring her exact ministrations. The petite hand of Bakugou's latched onto the zipper of her jeans, and impressively dragged it down in one swipe without getting anything caught. He reached into the tight restraints of her boxer briefs and pulled out the hardened dick. He clicked his tongue. "Not to sound like a narcissist, but you gotta admit, my dick looks pretty."

"Just shut up and jerk me off you asshole. I'm starting to see stars," She wasn't lying to speed up the process. Her body felt like it was on fire, including her dick. If Bakugou keeps stalling for the sake of punishing her, then he's going to be seeing white for days on end.

Bakugou tentatively began pumping her, his grip not too tight nor loose on the flesh. Y/N sighed in relief as he swiped his thumb over the slit, covering his fingers in her precum. Seeing that he's giving into her needs, she returned the favor by inserting her index finger inside, not allowing him to adjust once she massaged the velvety walls.

Bakugou arched into Y/N's body, panting harshly against her chest. "H-Hah fuck, slow down. Shit!"

"Take it like a champ, Mr.Dynamight."

"F-Fuck you."

Oh no. Probably shouldn't have patronized him, because Bakugou sped up his languid motions to pure vigorous jerking of the hand. A wave of pleasure shot up through her body, jolting backwards due to the intense sensation. Of course he's a pro at this. What isn't he good at?

Bakugou rested his head onto the crevice of your shoulder since he could only reach so far, and ghosted his lips on the skin, carefully restricting himself to not engage in kissing the area. While doing so, he cupped the underside of your balls, rolling them around in his small hands. They looked so big when being manhandled in her grasp. Y/N stifled her moans as he kept messing with them, all the while stroking her simultaneously. She felt him smile. The cheeky fucker! Two could play it at this game.

Y/N used one of her thumbs that weren't preoccupied inside Bakugou to massage the only place she knew that could make him cum in seconds. Two fingers inside, one thumb attentively on the clitorous. It was enough to make Bakugou bite down on her shoulder, trying to prevent any moans from escaping his mouth.

"Moan for me Bakugou. I know you want to," she tried to persuade him with more strokes to the clit, occasionally pinching it with her unoccupied fingers. She can feel he was close. So was she. But she needed to coerce him into helping her to finish too. They need to be a team. "Say something Bakugou. Don't you want to cum? If you don't speak your mind I'm going to stop." She couldn't believe the words that were spewing from her mouth. Y/N has never dirty talked before. Nor has she gotten this far with anyone without freezing up. Definitely the libido effect.

Bakugou detached his teeth from her shoulder and stared deeply into her eyes. Pleading.

"Go faster. Please." The want and neediness in his voice said it all.

He indeed felt vulnerable and exposed right then and there when confessing his desire, but he couldn't care less. Her fingers inside him were heavenly. A mantra of ,"yesyesyesyesyesyes", left his throat as her ministrations didn't falter.

"Fuck! Keep going. Just like that- shit - just like that... yesssss." His moans were beautiful. Not because they sounded like hers, but the way how he vocalizes his pleasure made sense in the world. Every whimper or moan puts her closer to the edge.

"Are you- are you about to?" He asked quietly, as though he was afraid you might stop at any rate.

"Yes! So close, just keep stroking," it was difficult to form sentences after that, the build up tension in your stomach tightening like a ticking time bomb, making your pleads indecipherable.

But Bakugou didn't want to hear that. He wanted to her to say those three words of encouragement.

Make. Me. Cum

And then, as if his thoughts were broadcasted live, she snaked her hands into the locks of his hair and pulled him close to where the tips of their noses touched briskly.

In a small voice she whimpers out, "Make me cum, Katsuki."

Listening to her instructions, his grip tightened around the base of her shaft and began teasing the slit, never once averting his glare from her own. Y/N's legs turned into jello. It became harder and harder to stand any longer. She needed to release. She quickened her pace and brutally scissored his pussy, the erotic sounds of their wetness reverberating in the tiny apartment.

"Cum then baby. Cum for me only."

Baby

Next thing she knew a strip of white shot out from below, dirtying the hands of Bakugou's. Her body began to spasm. Katsuki didn't loosen his grip, the stimulation becoming unbearable at this point.

The coil within him loosened, the evidence of his climax coating her fingers, allowing his orgasum to reach its full potential.

The pair blacked out for a split second, but recuperated once the light hit their corneas again.

"Shit." "Fuck." "..." "..."

Silence. Then the realization hit.

"I'm staring at you and not me! It worked! Hallelujah!" Y/N exclaimed, feeling herself to make sure it wasn't a hallucination.

"Gross. You got cum all over my expensive shirt," he said, wiping away the white substance with his sleeve.

Both of them went into the kitchen to clean the after math. Bakugou would grunt occasionally in disgust, sponging away the grime. Y/N throughly washed her hands and towel dried them, thoughts stiffly empty and vexed. She broke the awkward tension.

"Well, I guess we should call Endeavor and inform him that we switched back."

He hummed in agreement.

"And we should probably exchange our things tomorrow or tonight, but preferably soon since we're going to be on duty again."

Another grunt.

"Don't worry about me mentioning this to anyone. We can just keep whatever happened minutes ago between us-

Bakugou cut her off entirely by smashing his lips against hers. Shell shocked by his action, Y/N kept her eyes wide open whilst Bakugou's were knitted shut. She laid her hands on his chest and shoved him away harshly, putting their distance at arms reach.

"Bakugou, what the hell? All of sudden you want to kiss me?" Y/N's face fell, contorting into a mixture of sadness and confusion. "You only kiss people you like. Not hate."

Bakugou moved towards Y/N slowly, a hint of a smile forming as he neared closer.

"And that's exactly why I did it, idiot," he proclaimed confidently, cupping the side of her face. The touch was so tender and gentle she forgot that it was Bakugou at first.

"You're toying with me, aren't you? The libido is probably still lingering. If you really liked me, then tell me the exact moment you did."

Without hesitation he said, "The first day of school. When you walked in."

Y/N slapped the hand from her face, her skin flushing red by his blunt confession.

"Stop lying. You were mean to me the first day of school. And every day after that. I don't think calling people a "weakling" or "stupid" constitutes as liking someone."

All he did was chuckle and continued scooting closer, eventually towering above her. She squirmed underneath him. She secretly missed having his height.

"You're absolutely stupid if you think I really meant any of that crap. I may have gone overboard on the whole berating thing, but that was just my way of pushing my feelings away, in hopes you'd improve better and not take shit from people like me."

"Ya know, it's kind of hard to detect that when you were practically spitting on my face."

He leaned down and pecked a chaste kiss on the crown of her forehead.

"You can call me all the names you want later. Kick my ass if ya want, but for now let me make it up to you," he whispers before planting his mouth to hers again, only this time she didn't protest.

Heat swirled within her as she watched Katsuki's eyes flutter close, enriched in the moment to open them, and gripped the base of her neck to apply more pressure into the kiss. The man guided her as he moved his plushed lips ontop of hers, consuming the pretty noises she made. And my, were they absoultey rich coming from her.

I want to hear more, the selfish thought banged repeatedly inside his lust filled mind.

Y/N nervosuly closed her eyes shut when Katsuki's wet tongue prodded the entrance of her tight, lipped mouth. Letting him take full control, Katsuki managed to enter the strong muscle into her wet mouth and explored the canvernous place with such eagerness, such tenacity. Like he's been dying to do this for as long as his skillful mind can remember. Y/N found herself moaning as Katsuki grabbed her waist and forcefully collieded their bodies together, her soft breasts pressed up against his hard chest. Her perky tits put him in a trance, remincseing back to the day when first touched them, the guiltiness eating him up from the inside-out. Katsuki slithered one of his hands to the taunt boob and gave it a firm squeeze, causing Y/N to squeak out in embarrasement. They still feel fucking amazing in his hands.

"You're so fucking cute," he drew back from her, already out of breath. Everything was hitting him like a tsunami. He can finally admit to himself that he's been wanting this since they became co-workers. Hell, since the fucking beginning. Younger Katsuki would deem him as a horny loser who lost at his own game, but he wasn't a damn kid anymore.

"K-Katsuki...bedroom?" her hands found their way back into his crisp locks, futher egging him to comply. The small action made him moan.

"Fuck yes," Katsuki growled out and in a haste hooked his arms underneath the back of Y/N's thighs, hoisting her in the air to lead them into the bedroom they're both familair with.

Journeying to her bedroom became a difficult task. If only she'd stop giving his neck, the most sensitve spot out of his entire body, kitten kisses then he'd be plowing her back by now. He grew weaker by the second as the shy, acute kisses trandsitioned into full on sucking and biting. Not that he was complaining.

Katsuki threw her down onto the bed, unable to contain his smile when she hiccuped a chorus of giggles. God, even her giggles are fucking contagious. Strong arms scooped her up momentarily, bringing her to the center of the bed. Grazing her aching spot was Katsuki's growing buldge. Y/N circled her arms around his tiny waist squeezing him closely as Katsuki rolled his hips downwards to meet hers. She seized Katsuki's bicep, whimpering, and rythmically pushed her groin towards his, the tin material of her shorts scraping the surface of his jeans deliciously. His head dragged down to her collarbones, panting softly, wetting the skin from the condesation of his breath.

"I want you so fucking bad, please," he managed to choke out in between the continous grinding.

Gaining a newfound confidence, Y/N mimiced the way how Bakugou unzipped her when they were still in opposite bodies and peeled back his briefs till his inflamed member popped out, smacking his lower belly. He cursed under his breath noticing the immense amount of pre-cum leaking from the head. As much as she wanted to lick it all up, there were other things to tend to. She shimmied out from her skimpy shorts and crop top, not wasting any time for lingering touches. But Y/N caught a menacing glare in his eyes. His attention was focused on something else. Looking down, she saw that she was sporting a sheer laced bra with matching panties. She definitely doesn't remember having these in her personal closet.

"You bought me lingerie?" Y/N tried to sound unfazed at the thought of Katsuki willingly purchasing these pretty undergarments for her. That must mean he's seen her boobs!

"Yeah? So what if I did. Your sense of fashion is nonexistent. I pitied you that much to where I bought you shit with my own money."

His face was stern, scarily resembling the times he'd be bashing someone's head on the concrete during a bloody battle. But his eyes told a different story. She couldn't quite pin point the time or place when she witnessed the same gleaming spark in those vermilion orbs, but she felt safe and wanted all in one.

So she began teasing the straps of her bra, head still in disbelief that the blonde underneath her bought it, and let the material slip off her shoulder seductively. Bakugou's breathing quickened as he watched y/n toy with the next strap. He stopped her midway.

"No," his fingers were ironically cold.

"No?" She questioned him, awkwardly frozen still on his lap. His evident boner pushing up against her sex, making her wet even more.

Numbly, Bakugou pulled up both of the straps to her bra and chuckled lightly to himself.

"I wanna fuck you with this on. It's been on my mind since I bought it," he admitted out loud.

Y/N held back a moan, his words carrying so much weight to them all the while directing it straight to her drenched pussy.

Without saying a word, y/n left acute kisses on Bakugou's neck, trailing it down further and further till she reached the leaking head of his member. He became antsy as she wrapped her petite hand around the base, fingers tracing the topography of his veins. Y/N saw the desperate look on his face and took all of him in her mouth, holding in the breath of oxygen she took before doing so. Bakugou hissed, teeth clamping down on his bottom lip nearly ripping the skin apart. This feels way better and more appropriate. He prefers her wet mouth over her fingers any day of the week.

Y/N sucked in her cheeks, allowing herself to take more of his member. The tip of his head eventually hit the back of her throat, causing her to gag and choke due to the sudden pressure.

"F-Fuck. Holy shit, keep going," Katsuki begged, tears swelling in his ducts already.

The saliva from her open mouth created a natural lubricant, making it easy for her to bob her head up and down. Bakugou's ears picked up the erotic wet squelching sounds coming from her as she kept up the brutal pace, the noise alone making him want to come undone. The sight of y/n slobbering on his dick is now engraved in his head. He let out a wanton moan when she played with his balls, recalling the memory of him performing the same ministration on himself with her beautiful hands.

He can feel the familiar sensation spreading down below, his throat constricting as the stimulation of her sucking and licking becoming too much. Before she could continue, Bakugou reached over and lifted her head by her hair.

"I can't hold it in any longer. I need to be inside you now," his voice was strained to point where it came out as a whisper.

Pushing her back gently, Bakugou latched his mouth onto hers as he spread her legs wide apart. Revealing a canal of her wetness dripping from her panties to the inner thighs. Bakugou licked his lips hungrily. Mentally slapping himself for not tasting her before she gave him head. He'll make sure to explore that endeavor later.

Lips still locked, Bakugou tugged the bottom half of her laced panties aside, strings of her glistening wetness shimmering, and positioned himself at her aching entrance. The tip of his cock teased her folds, coating it even more. He agonizingly went in slow circles, occasionally slapping her clit with it. Y/N's arms were above her head, clutching the linen sheets in anticipation. Katsuki smirked against her lips at her wrecked expression.

"Bakugou please...," y/n pleaded with her full chest. She wants to know how it feels to be wrapped around him. To be one with him. "Don't hold back. Just fuck me."

Bakugou's eyes grew darker after the demand, pure lust taking control over his body now. He sheathed into her quickly without taking his eyes off of her face. A quiet whimper left her throat when he fully bottomed out. He checked for any signs of y/n looking displeased or uncomfortable, but he got his answer when he felt her legs wrap around his torso, pulling him in as close as possible. Bakugou basks in at the sight of y/n sucking him completely, her legs fully bent back in an awkward position. He decides to pull his cock halfway out. y/n whimpers due to loss of friction but gets rewarded seconds later when Katsuki rams his cock inside again, pushing all his weight onto her.

"Oh, fuck, Katsuki!," she whines, instinctively clutching her walls around him.

"You're so tight for me huh baby? Can't help but to clamp around this dick," Katsuki sneered while pumping tentative thrusts into her.

His hands clasped both of her thighs now, pulling her towards him, urging her to move in a harmonious dance with him. Finding somewhat of a rhythm, y/n fucked Katsuki back by rolling her hips, a synapse of heat exchanging between them. Sweat starts dripping down from the crown of his forehead onto the peaks of her breasts. Lost in thought, he tipped his head forward and lapped up the remains of his salty musk, tongue expertly twirling around the taunt nipple. Y/N mewled, hands searching - reaching - for anything to ground herself, settling on interlocking her fingers with Katsuki's nitroglycerin drenched hands. She titled her head and took a whiff.

Caramel and soap

A popping sound went off in her ears. Katsuki released her swollen tit only to look up with hooded eyes, his infamous smirk on full display.

"Open your mouth," was all he said before raising one of his fingers that she was so embarrassingly fixated on moments ago. When she didn't obey Katsuki grabbed her by the jaw and shoved not one, not two, but three fingers in her mouth. Like with his cock, she couldn't handle the intensified pressure in the back of her throat, gagging instantaneously.

"Atta girl. Just take my fingers like a good bitch. Oh? You like it when I degrade you huh? Don't lie, you tightened instantly when I said that." Katsukis pace sped up rapidly, pumping into her cunt like a madman, fingers still lodge down her throat. Each thrust left her shuddering for more, his hips meeting hers to create a loud song, the noise drowning out her muffled screams.

It became hard to see now, a tunnel vision of just a crimson glow. Soon she feels herself becoming light. Katsuki grew impatient and flipped y/n on her stomach, a tiny oof rocked out from her, and inserted his member back into her stretched out cunt.

Y/N yelps as Katsuki's cock hits the sweet spot - fresh tears flooding down her flushed face, babbling nonsense into her pillow.

She caves, sobbing, "yes, yes, ohgod. you feel so good. you're so fucking good -ah katsuki!"

Looming over her trembling body, the blonde slows his harsh thrusts to a savagely slow grind. He lowly chuckles watching her writhe and wiggle her body in desperation.

"You think you can just come that easy? Beg for me to let you come!"

Smack!

A harsh sting rattled her lower back, causing her to bite down harshly on her lip to avoid showing any pain.

"Such an asshole..." y/n huffed out, oblivious to the way how Katsuki was preparing for her next punishment.

Smack! Smack!

"Not good. Ask nicely for me to fuck this pretty pussy into the mattress."

More whimpers into the tear stained pillow.

"P-Please Katsuki..." she begins, frustration growing exponentially with every word. "Fuck me. I need your cock. I always needed your cock Katsuki. Make me scream out your name when I come!"

She didn't even have time to process what she said before Katsuki enclosed his hand around her throat, forcefully dragging her writhing body to his chest, cranking her head in a 90 degree angle. Cock still warming up her insides.

"That's my girl," he said before kissing her lips again, devouring the sweet noises she made.

Her neighbors were in for a long night. - Both of their bodies the next morning faced more damage than any crusade of a patrol. Bruises painted the outskirts of y/n's body, trailing from her thighs to the divots of her breasts. Katsuki paid no mind to it, seeing how he can make a bloody lip a trailblazer look.

Even though no one wanted speak much about the issue at hand - last night was a pivotal moment for their relationship.

Because y/n wouldn't be making a fresh batch of coffee for the Katsuki Bakugou in her kitchen right now.

Because Bakugou wouldn't be lounging by her washing machine, waiting for the timer to go off so he can put her bed sheets in the dryer.

They found themselves sitting comfortably in silence - the soft whipping of car horns outside her cracked window - Katsuki blowing on his coffee before taking a sip. It all seemed unreal to her. In any other circumstance they'd be at each other's necks by now, screaming nuisances in the air. She considers this whole ordeal a ruse. But it isn't. Thank god it isn't. Because Katsuki never looked calmer or relaxed in his entire life till now. And she wasn't going to bat an eye away from this ground breaking phenomenon.

Intently watching him drink from across the table, she ponders if Katsuki liked her from the get go, and maybe just disguised his feelings with disgust towards her later on. The question will go unanswered, possibly until he confides and tells the story himself, but for now she was content not knowing the what if.

"How did you know I like black coffee?" Katsuki asks, quirking up an eyebrow at her.

Y/N takes a long drag from her mug, indulging in the sweet taste of the caramel creamer.

She smiles and says, "I don't know. Just took a wild guess."

#mha smut #mha imagines #mha x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki smut #bakugou fluff #bakugou smut #bakugou imagine

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pettyprocrastination · 3 years

Note

can we get any sort of hc for frankie & baby bat, i love the headcanons that you have for them🥵🥵🥵

YES YES YOU CAN MY LOVE

HEHEHEHE ive been thinking about babybat and frankie literally all day i was hoping somebody would say something and you HEARD ME I LOVE YOU

It’s 12:30 am so if these are messy and bad i apologize i just got way too excited akskks.

Some tags: @captainsamwlsn @goldafterglow @thesadvampire @cinewhore @thirstworldproblemss @justanotherblonde23 @lilkermit14 @buckysalefty @qveenbvtch @clydesducktape @themarcusmoreno if i missed anybody else who wanted to be tagged in bb content please let me know! It’s late so my brain and working as hard as she should

Content warning: foul language, talk of insomnia and PTSD, allusions to sex, camwork, light angst(?)

Frankie makes sure to give you honest good compliments.

Of course he’s not gonna pretend he doesn't say the usual porn dude stuff of “I want to cum on your tits” but he’ll also make comments of how lovely your smile is and how pretty you look in the fluffy robe wrapped around your figure at the beginning of each show.

Sometimes he’ll ask how your day was.

These little comments feel insanely more intimate than the mountains of crude ones you get.

The first time you do a private show for him??? Oh my god he’s so nervous

Why is he so nervous??? He shouldn't be so jittery

Little does he know you feel the same way

You haven’t been nervous for private shows since you've started doing cam work, but something about this guy made you feel giddy. It wasn't until his camera switched on that you froze in realization that oh no he’s cute.

When it comes to actually talking? He needs to be coaxed out of his shell. Sure he can make comments in the chat of a stream saying he wants to see your perfect pussy but saying it out loud?? To your face?? Ohhh boy. He’s a little awkward at first, as most customers are so it takes some gentle conversation before he’s able to ask you to take your shirt off.

“Why don’t we start with names?” You untie the robe and slowly let it fall from your shoulders. “I have to call you something, sweetheart.”

In hindsight he could've given you a nickname, or a fake name. Giving a fake name definitely would've been smarter but he was just to busy staring at you and your waiting smile and he just blurted out “Francisco” without even thinking about it.

“Francisco?” You hummed and let your eyes shut, as if imagining all the separate situations you could say his name. “I like that. Handsome name for a handsome man.”

He knows it’s a line. That you're most likely lying, just feeding him rehearsed words you give to every other man who pays for your shows. But he doesn't care.

He wants to hear you say his name again and again and again. Moan it, scream it, say it while you give him praise and beg him to fuck you until your voice is gone.

“Francisco?”

He’s shaken away from his mind when he looks at the camera, youre staring at him expectantly. Oh god he spaced out. How long was he like that? Did he say any of it out loud?

You seemed to notice his panic and laughed. “I know this can be a little awkward the first time. So we can take it slow.”

Your fingers curl over the hem of your shirt and slowly pull it up just enough to show him the bare skin of your chest peeking out underneath.

“Tell me what you want Francisco.”

In your regular day to day, you work at a small bookstore. Your apartment is decked out in halloween/spooky decor year round and you have two hairless kitties, poptart and biscuit that will throw fits if you aren’t giving them attention.

Frankie accidentally met the two rascals during a private show when you thought you had shut the door all the way. But turns out you didn't because poptart zooms across the floor and into your lap, yowling for love meanwhile biscuit goes straight for the camera, batting at it with a curious paw because?? Hello???who is this???strange man taking mother’s attention

You are mortified, topless, and holding two cats while apologizing to him because “oh my god im so so sorry they were in the other room and-”

He laughs and shakes his head. “It’s okay, they're really cute actually.”

You smirk. “Was that directed towards my cats or my tits, Francisco?”

“Both actually, both are very very cute.”

You begin to share anecdotes and stories about your days over these shows and streams, until late one night you get a payment with a message from him.

‘You don’t have to do anything, I just don’t want to be alone right now.’

Its 2 am, you don’t bother doing makeup or switching your pajamas for lingerie before turning on your camera and accepting the link, to be shown a black screen and his voice.

“Hey, I hope i didn’t wake you. I’m sorry it’s just been a bad night and i cant sleep, i didn’t-fuck. This was a bad idea. I’m sorry-”

“It’s okay Francisco.” Your soft voice stops him as his finger hovers over the leave chat button. “I’m happy to be here with you. Is there anything I can do?”

“Talk.” He rasps, a switch is heard and light fills his camera to show you his exhausted form. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days, his hair is sticking up in separate directions and his eyes, looking anywhere but you, are red and puffy.

“About?” You knew this was dangerous territory. You never messaged customers out of chats or private shows. This was not professional, this was personal, intimate. He could have reached out to anybody else, friends, family, but he chose you. Did he not have anybody else?

The notion shouldn't have made your heart swell as much as it did. Fuck this was bad.

“What do you want me to talk about?”

“Anything.”

So you did. You talked about books and movies and dumb stories from college, frankie learned you worked at a small bookstore and had your own personal reading nook in your house.

You learned that frankie was a pilot who loves to cook and in his words, “makes a bitchin’ chicken alfredo.”

“Yeah well-” a yawn broke through your sentence and he smiled. Somewhere through the night you had wrapped yourself up in blankets as you spoke to him. “-you’ll have to make some for me sometime frankie.”

Frankie. A name he’s been called for years now but for some reason hearing it from you was like hearing it for the first time.

He wanted to hear you say his name again. In bed, the morning after as he made our breakfast, the day after when he took you out to dinner and walked you home and-

Oh.

Oh no.

This is very bad.

Unbeknownst to him, you're having the exact same revelation.

“Goodnight frankie.”

“Goodnight Baby.”

#Frankie & BB #frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales #francisco morales x reader #catfish morales #catfish x reader #catfish morales x reader #triple frontier

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

57 sternclay nsfw? i can see stern complaining to a stranger that his ex complained about how weird his kinks were while dumping him

Here you go! 57: “we’re fighting over the last box of half-off valentine’s day chocolate and end up in a “who has it worse” battle.

For being in a mountain town in the slow season, the seasonal candy shelves of the Kepler Walgreens are bare. Were it 10 am on Valentines Day, Joseph would be in a panic. At 10 p.m, it feels like yet more proof this trip is utterly doomed.

But he didn’t become one of the top agents in the Department of Unexplained Phenomena by being unobservant. On the top shelf, pushed towards the back, is a bag of Reese's hearts and a bag of M&Ms. Thank you, years of training.

Being six feet tall helps too.

He’s so locked onto his target that he doesn’t notice the other person in the store until their hands smack into each other en route to the bags.

“Sorry, uh, lemme just get these and I’ll get out of your way.” A voice as deep and sweet as summer honey reaches his ears.

“I’m sorry, but I was going to buy these.” He starts pulling the bags towards him, only for the other guy to grab them. Joseph glares; the man trying to relieve him of his last solace looks like the kind of lumberjack you see in recordings titled things, “Log Pounders IV” or “Bear Hunting.”

“Look, buddy, I really need these so can you, like, find some other bags?”

“These are the last two. And I guarantee I need them more.” As long as he keeps a pleasant voice and gives no ground, this should go smoothly.

“Unless you got dumped this month, I don’t think you do.”

“I got dumped seven hours ago.” He says through an increasingly tight-lipped smile.

“At least your ex isn’t tagging you in a bunch of photos bragging about his new boyfriend.”

“He can’t, because he probably only just got back to his apartment in the rental car. The one I’m now stranded here without.”

“Pfft, just call an Uber or something.”

“It’ll cost several hundred dollars to get home!”

“You look like you can afford it.” Brown eyes flick from his hair down to his shoes, “some of us have to use half-price candy to soothe our wounds. You’re probably staying at the kind of fancy B&B where they have complimentary booze.”

“I would be, except their was a fuck-up with the reservation. Which my ex took as proof this was time to end things, and is the reason I’m dragging this all over town.” He kicks his ergonomically designed, rolling suitcase hard enough that it bumps into his adversary.

“Better he gave you some bullshit reason than the truth, which mine was all too happy to tell me. You can have these when someone you tried to make happy tells you he thinks you’re ‘too soft’ and that if only you’d manned up he woulda stayed, whatever the fuck that even means.”

Goddamnit, Joseph is not about to lose this argument--and his candy--on top of everything else.

“I’ll trade you that for being told you’re: too exacting, far more uncool than your job implies, too anxious, too invested in your work, that your whole personality is flawed and, just for extra fun, that your kinks are too weird and no one in their right mind would ever want to sleep with you if they knew them ahead of time.”

The other man’s hold on the bags loosens. Then it returns, stronger than before, as he grumbles, “Please, no one’s kinks are that weird.”

“You have no idea what mine are.”

“Then how about you give me a demonstration, huh?” Lumberjack snaps.

Joseph's common sense finally catches up with his thirst for comfort and, apparently, conflict.

“I, I’m sorry, did you just offer to fuck me in the middle of a fight over discount candy?”

“I....” the man lets go of the bags, chuckles, “yeah, I did. Fuck, I’m sorry, it’s been such a shitty day that my mouth decided it was gonna do whatever it took to stay in that fight.”

Joseph laughs a little, slumping against the shelf, “I guess it’s nice to know I’m not the only person in town whose Valentine’s Day didn’t go to plan.”

“No kidding. Though, uh, I didn’t get dumped this month. It was three months ago. He did tag me in all those photos today though.”

“That’s so rude.”

“Not as rude as leaving your boyfriend stranded in the mountains.”

B-grade pop hits fill the awkward silence between them.

“I, uh, this might be way outta line, but I got an idea; if you buy the candy, I can take us back to my place and bake something with it. That way we can both enjoy it, and you won’t be stuck wandering around in the cold.”

He runs a quick is-this-a-serial-killer scan of the man in front of him.

“Sure. But just so you know, I’m opening the Reeses in the car.”

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

“Feeling better?” Barclay, his host, wipes stray cupcake crumbs from his lips.

“Much.” He polishes off his second coffee-cocoa cupcake with M&Ms in the batter, lifts his coffee cup, “this place is lucky to have you.”

Barclay blushes the same way he has every time Joseph compliments his cooking, home, or taste in books. They’ve spent the last ninety minutes in the kitchen of Barclay’s small, A-Frame cabin, one of eight laid out in a half circle behind Amnesty Lodge. The cook explained that the cabins were for staff or long term residents, and that while the Lodge sometimes had vacancies, this week had seen them swamped.

The rain alternates between pleasant pitter-pats and drops that could kill a small bird, so Joseph is incredibly grateful to Barclay for giving him a place to shelter. When he thanks him, the cook shrugs with a little smile, “you shouldn’t leave nice things out in the rain.”

As they’re cleaning up the dishes, Barclay passes him a plate and says, “You can stay here tonight. If, uh, if you want. The couch isn’t much, but it’s dry and I’ve got a bunch of spare blankets.”

“That’d be great, thank you. And, um, thank you for being so nice to me, given how we met.”

“Eh, no one who’s in a Walgreens after ten is in a good mood. And, uh, it’s nice to have someone to talk with. I’m kinda the quiet one of my friends, and work is mostly calling orders and stuff.” He pulls the coffee pot from the heat, “can I top you off?”

“Yes, please.” His caffeine tolerance is so high a few cups late at night doesn’t mess with his sleep. Barclay is sticking with tea, something scented like cardamon and comfort.

They move to the couch that’s clearly been re-covered a dozen times, Barclay only getting up to turn on some music; delta blues, if Joseph’s ear is right. It’s not until the clock strikes one thirty that Joseph notices they’re sitting so close that their knees bump whenever one of them turns to talk.

“Okay, I gotta ask” Barclay’s brown eyes shine sweet and playful, “what exactly was so weird about your kinks that your dickhead ex went out of his way to mention them?”

He thinks a moment, scanning his body and noticing he’s more relaxed than he’s been in weeks, including all the times he spent with his ex. Something about the faint scent of dish-soap on Barclays hands, the gentle smile that makes Joseph certain that--for all his bulk--if Joseph told him to roll over and show his belly, he’d do it in an instant, the way he doesn’t rolls his eyes or shy away when Joseph talks, all of that makes him calm. Which makes him bold.

“Wait right here.” He hops up, grabs his bag from the door and pulls it over to the rug by the couch. All he has to do to reveal his secret is lift his pajamas.

“Holy fuck.” Barclay leans forward, “you really came prepared.”

“It was supposed to be a romantic getaway. I...we’d never used any of this together, but I hoped we might this time. It’s, it’s not his fault, I know my tastes aren’t for everyone, and we had plenty in common in bed. But he went through this whole thing where he said we should share our deepest fantasies. Apparently wanting to be choked is fine, but wanting to fuck Mothman is not.”

“That’s what this one is.” Barclay picks up one of the two dildos, black with lots of swirling ridges.

“That’s actually my dragon one. Um.” he holds up the ovipositor toy, “this one is supposed to be mothman.”

Barclay squishes one of the silicone eggs, “that feels kinda nice. What else did you bring?”

His genuine interest is not helping Joseph keep his hopes under control.

“The other toy is the ‘bigfoot’ model. And this is, um, this is my newest one, I was so excited I pre-ordered it. It acts like a cock-sleeve, but this part here is supposed to mimic a, um, a knot.”

“Like the idea of getting knotted, babe?” The cook’s voice is a little deeper than when he last spoke, and rather than pulling away he’s inching into Joseph’s space.

“Yes. I, um, I’m getting the sense” he shifts so his hands are on Barclay’s knees, “that we might have something in common besides our taste in leftover candy.”

“I packed all this so carefully” he brushes their lips together, “it’d be a shame to let it sit unused.”

Barclay scoops him into a kiss, growling happily when Joseph instantly parts his lips. His beard is soft and tickly under Joseph’s palms, and his mind takes the thought of getting beard-burn on his thighs and runs so far with it that he almost misses what Barclay says next.

“In that case, you better decide if you want me to open your ass up so I can fuck you with a knot, or if you wanna do it yourself.”

“I prefer to do it myself.”

A second kiss, a bit gentler this time, “bedroom’s at the end of the hall. Get naked and wait for me there?”

“Roger that, big guy.”

When Barclay growls this time it’s rougher, jumping out of his chest and seeming to surprise him.

Joseph undresses as Barclay stops off in the bathroom, rifling through the medicine cabinet while Joseph folds his clothes. He’s down to his boxers when he remembers there is a conversation he needed to have before it hit this point.

“You trying to get me to rip those off with my teeth?” Barclay grins as he sets some condoms and lube on the bed and starts taking off his pants.

“I, um, there’s something you should be aware of. We don’t have the same, um, set-up.”

Barclay furrows his brow, gets his meaning, then nods, “no problem. If you’re okay with that part of you being involved I, uh, I just got a really, really good idea for what to do.”

“It’s not always the case, but tonight I definitely want it involved. I want you inside me as many ways as possible.”

“Fuck yeah.” Barclay tosses his shirt into the laundry, “get your ass open enough to take that knot.”

He slips the condom on, douses it with lube, and presses the first finger in, discovering that he's unable to stop complimenting Barclay for even five seconds while he finishes disrobing. The flush under his dark chest hair is unendingly charming, as is the little whine he makes at Joseph telling him he likes how big he is.

“I, I’m serious, ahhn, it’s rare to find someone taller than me and I really like it.”

“Feeds into the monster thing?” Barclay crawls beside him, laying down so he can kiss him as he works the second finger in.

“In a way.”

A deep, rumbly chuckle that has Joseph fucking himself hurriedly, “Don’t be coy, babe. You like the thought of something big and hairy getting a hold of you and not letting you go until you’re dripping cum.”

“Holy shit, yes” he gets the third finger in, sighing as Barclay nuzzles his neck.

“Well, I’m not bigfoot, but I’m betting I’ll do just fine.”

“More than fine.” Joseph kisses him, feels him smile in a way that melts his heart like cheap chocolate.

“Got some other theories about you, babe, but you gotta wait until you’re on my dick to hear ‘em.” Barclay sits up, stroking his cock in time with Joseph’s hand, “fucking-A, can’t believe your ex didn’t wanna stick around for this. You look like a fucking porn star; we oughta record you getting fucked in your suit and sell if for big bucks.”

He moans, pulling his fingers free, “Fuck me now. Please.”

“Fuck that’s hot.” Barclay works the sleeve down over his cock, sits up against the wall, “come sit in my lap, facing away.”

Joseph straddles him, gasps when the head of his cock presses in. He prepped well, but all the same he has to take his time wiggling his way down. Barclay caresses him, grunting and whimpering whenever he moves, breath prickling the hairs at the base of his neck. It’s heavenly.

When he hits the knot, Barclay rubs more lube on it, but it stays outside of him as he grinds on it. Between moans, the cook manages to say, “want me to start the next part?”

“Yes, please.”

Barclay loads the ovipositor with the three eggs, praises Joseph for being a good boy when he spreads his legs to accommodate the head of the toy.

“I, I thought you had more you were going to tell me?” He tilts his head awkwardly to kiss Barclay’s shoulder.

“Uh huh.” Barclay slowly works the toy in and out, doing his best to sync it to the rolls of his hips, “I think you’re the kind of guy who doesn’t just want one monster; you want ‘em all.”

“Variety is, ohgod, part of a healthy sex life.”

“I don’t mean one monster on one day and a different one on another. I think you want them all at once.”

“Oh yes, oh! Ohohoh” he kicks his legs as the first egg pushes in, “fuck, Barclay, please keep going.”

“Whatever you want, babe.” He nuzzles Joseph’s hair, “that’s how I came up with this plan; seeing all those different dicks made me think you’d, fuck, you’d like me to pretend there was more than just me fucking you.”

Joseph nods, clinging to Barclays arm and bearing down on the knot.

“Can just see it now; you got yourself lost in the woods out here, go looking for help only to find a whole bunch of monsters waiting for you. Spend the rest of the night pressed into the dirt and leaves while every cryptid from, fuck” he bucks his hips, “from here to Canada had their turn.”

“Shit, shit” the knot starts pushing in, “y-you’ve got my number, big guy.”

“Yeah?” Barclay squeezes the base of the toy as he talks, causing the remaining two eggs to push their way in, Joseph’s body clenching around them, “you want a night where all your good for is being fucked, where if you beg for a break you get a bigfoot fucking your throat and werewolves cumming on your chest instead of them all mobbing you at once?”

“Shit, yes, YESohfuck” the knot enters him as Barclay shoves his hips down, “ohmygod that’s good, fuck, I feel so full, you’re so smart, this was genius, fuck you know how to treat meAHannnfuck, shit.” He holds on to Barclays arm’s as the other man fucks him with abandon.

“Oh I know, babe. Know I was fucking right. You wanna be claimed, wanna be owned, wanna be bred by a whole fuckin pack-”

“Jesuschrist” it’s hard to breathe at the pace Barclay sets, his body aching to cum but not quite able to get there. He squeezes his eyes shut, rubbing frantically at his dick as Barclay loses himself in the fantasy.

“You’d be so cute, leaves in your hair and cum on your chin, taking it all and begging for more. Good thing you’re so needy, you could tear a pack apart with folks fighting over who gets to fuck you, fuck, Joseph, baby, you’re so fucking good, gonna be so fucking good to you, fuck, fuck” he shoves as deep as he can while he cums, and in the haze of pleasure Joseph swears claws prick the skin of his chest. Just the thought of that sends his own orgasm coursing through him, his body tensing and twisting on Barclay’s cock, making them both moan from sudden overstimulation.

“S-sorry” Barclay pants.

“Nothing to apologize for, just physiology, here, let me ow, ow, okay maybe I should have relaxed more first.” He’s free of both toys, but that was right on the edge of too painful. He waits for Barclay to take off the sleeve, then rolls the bigger man so his head is on his chest.

“Your ex didn’t know how good they had it.”

“Thanks, babe.”

He smiles, “I like that. No one ever calls me something that informal.”

“Call you it whenever you want. Babe.” Barclay kisses his arm, “you can, uh, stay in bed if you want. We don’t have a ton of time together so I’d, uh, well, I’d like to spend as much of it with you as I can.”

For the first time, Joseph wishes his vacation would last longer.

“Agreed, big guy.”

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

“You said you had my new assignment, sir?”

“Yes. Agent Stern, you will be going to the town of Kepler to investigate the events described in this file.” Agent Hayes passses him the folder.

“Understood, sir.”

Joseph manages to keep his smile to himself all the way to his desk.

#sternclay #agent stern/ barclay #taz amnesty #reader request #meet ugly

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shining-red-diamond · 3 years

Text

Shallow Waters (Part IV)

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: Hendery x Brittany (OC)

Rating: PG-15

Genre: fluff, some angst

Warnings: mentions of the reproductive system and childbirth, brief partial nudity (nothing graphic)

Euphoria was all Brittany was high off of as soon as she kissed Hendery. Even on their walk back to her house, she couldn’t shake the feeling of overwhelming happiness and love. She knew she liked her friend, but when they held hands earlier she had a hunch that it possibly was about to turn into something more. The kiss on the beach under the full moon confirmed it.

“So,” she smiled once they got back into the house, “does this mean we’re together now?”

“As in ‘lovers?’” Hendery asked. He had the terms ‘boyfriend’ and ‘girlfriend’ before, but more among the adolescents and a few adult humans. They just sounded so mundane to him and preferred the term “lover.” To him, it actually meant the one he’s with was meant for him.

“Yeah.”

“Hendery thought he had always been Brittany’s.”

Brittany giggled. “I guess everything was confirmed tonight.”

With a smile, Hendery leaned down and kissed her again, this time with more passion and eagerness to where he had now picked her up slightly.

When he broke the kiss, Brittany asked him, “Would you like to live here? With me?”

Hendery thought for a moment. Move in with the woman he was in love with? It would mean not finding a spare rock to sleep on or moving around so much. He would have a place to call “home.” The ocean was right there in the backyard, and there was water inside the house.

“Hendery will live with Brittany,” he nodded.

“You will?” she smiles.

The merman cups her face and whispers, “He will, because Hendery loves Brittany.”

Brittany smiled at him for a moment before she whispered back, “Brittany loves Hendery, too.”

Pulling her into a hug, he couldn’t stop smiling. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found his mate. He didn’t care that she was a human, or that he was a merman. All he knew was that his heart wanted her and to be with her for as long as he lived.

Brittany pulled back and yawned a little. “I think I’m about ready to go to bed.”

Hendery nodded as he felt tiredness consume him as well.

“Where will Hendery sleep?” he asked as he followed her to the bedroom.

“If you’re comfortable,” she replied as they reached it, “the bed is big enough for two.”

The mattress was queen-sized and covered in blush pink sheets and a grey comforter. A few pillows decorated the head of it, and a large knit blanket sat folded at the foot of the bed.

“Is the bed comfortable?” Hendery replied as he poked the mattress.

“Very,” she smiled, “it’s not gonna bite you.”

Hendery chuckled at her joke.

Show then showed him how to turn down the bed sheets before excusing herself to change into her pj’s. Hendery undressed himself but left his boxer shorts on (Brittany promised to take him shopping soon), and when she returned a large yellow t-shirt and some shorts covered her body. Her face was clean of her makeup, and Hendery’s heart picked up speed as soon as he saw her bare face.

“Brittany looks so beautiful,” Hendery smiled.

Her cheeks turned red as her hair upon his comment.

“It’s only my pajamas,” she giggled as she started turning off the lights, leaving only a starry sky projector on as a night light.

“She’s still beautiful,” he insisted, his eyes following her as she crawled under her bedsheets.

Hendery followed suit, lying down on the cushiony pillow and facing her. Brittany faced him as well, and the indigo light from the projector outlined her features. His fingers lightly stroked the smooth skin on her cheeks. He still couldn’t believe how lucky he felt to love someone so beautiful and full of light. Her loving him back seemed like a dream only that morning until their kiss on the beach.

Brittany had always wanted to love someone, but never in a million years would she fall for someone only specified in fairytales. Hendery was real, and he was hers. She was his. Nothing could separate them now.

“Comfy?” she chuckled after a while.

“And warm,” Hendery smiled. “Can Hendery hold Brittany?”

Without a second thought, she scooted over to him, snuggling into his side. His bare skin was warm as they wrapped their arms around each other.

“Is this how humans sleep?” he whispered, his lips ghosting her forehead.

“One of the ways,” his lover answered. “Typically, couples sleep intimately like this. Just holding each other in a loving embrace.”

“Hendery has seen merfolk together in such a way. Their ways of showing love are similar to humans.”

“Have you ever been with a mermaid before?” Hendery shook his head. “Mermaids were afraid he would hurt them with his teeth. Hendery has never been with anyone, because he is different.”

Brittany kissed him right beneath his jawline, and he blushed.

“Physically, yes,” she nodded. “However, they missed on getting to know the Hendery that I know. The Hendery who loves to learn about the world around him, who knows how to tell amazing stories about creatures only humans know to be legends, and the man who loves with all of his heart. Despite the two rows of teeth top and bottom, the only thing you tear into raw fish.”

Everything she said was the absolute truth. Hendery wasn’t a confrontational being. Sure, he was protective over the ones he loved and cared for, but he would never fight anyone for no reason. He hated that his sharp teeth scared some beings off; his lover reminded him that he could do more than just eat or fight with them. He hoped that one day his teeth would be a useful tool somehow.

Brittany, although not a mermaid or creature of the deep, was the first female he had ever had any sort of connection with. All of friends knew his future wouldn’t be a sea inhabitant, but Hendery knew Brittany was the one for him.

“I love you, Hendery,” she whispered before closing her eyes.

“Hendery loves Brittany, too,” he replied before kissing her forehead.

Thunder and raindrops tapping on the window awoke Hendery the next morning. He was facing the large window, and the curtains were open just a little bit. The sky was covered by a blanket of dark clouds, and lightning flashed every few seconds. Flipping his body over to snuggle Brittany, he discovered nothing but an empty space where she would be.

Any feeling of panic quickly dissolved as the scent of something cooking entered his nostrils. He climbed out of bed and walked down the hall to find Brittany cooking in the kitchen. Her pajamas still hugged her body, and her hair was now tied up in a messy bun.

As if she sensed his presence, she turned around and smiled when she saw him.

“Good morning, babe,” she greeted before approaching him with a kiss.

“Good morning,” he smiled as his arms snaked around her waist. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Eggs and French toast. I have your fish set out for you, but you’re welcome to try some of what I made.”

“Brittany knows Hendery’s stomach can only handle fish,” he reminded her.

“I was just curious.”

He kissed her forehead. “Hendery appreciates Brittany’s offer.”

“The fish is on the table,” she smiled as Hendery sat on the bar stool. “Ever had rainbow trout before?”

Hendery smiled open seeing his meal on the plate. “Hendery’s favorite.”

As the two ate their breakfast, they pondered over what they could do as it was raining out. The beach was out of the question until the storm blew over, so their only option was to remain indoors. However, Hendery could still get his hydration from a bath. He also wanted a lesson in something else that wasn’t grammar or language related.

“Could Brittany teach Hendery about humans?” he requested.

“As in how they behave, or…?”

“How their bodies work. Hendery guesses they’re similar to merfolk.”

“An anatomy lesson,” Brittany clicked together. “It’s a lot, but I’ll teach what I know.”

“Everything?”

“Everything that I know. I’m not a doctor, but I’ll try.”

Hendery grinned. He then realized he was starting to feel a little dehydrated, so he requested to take a bath. His lover obliged and quickly cleaned up the kitchen before heading to the bathroom to get everything ready. Hendery has stripped himself of his boxers, but Brittany made no avail to look at him. She wanted to give him privacy.

“Can the water be cold?” he requested as she started to fill up the tub.

“Sure,” she nodded as she adjusted the temperature. “Was it too warm yesterday?”

“It was fine, but Hendery likes cold water. It reminds him of the ocean, and it’s better for his health.”

“Ice cold or just chilly?”

“Moderate.”

Brittany nodded, and soon enough the tub was filled with water in the desired temperature. The merman stepped in and sat down, transforming into his merman form at will. His lover left the bathroom and returned with a large textbook and a stool. She scooted the stool close to the tub and placed her book on the floor next to it. She then went over to the shower and pulled out the soaps for hendery to cleanse himself with.

Hendery only needed hydration, but after his first bath he was starting to enjoy cleaning himself and seeing how shiny his purple tail was in the light.

“Are you okay with candles?” Brittany checked as she pulled an unused, pink candle from another cabinet.

“Candle?” Hendery had heard the word around, but never really knew what it was or meant.

“It’ll just help the bathroom smell good.”

“Oh, okay. What scent?”

“Strawberry blossom. I’m someone who likes floral and fresh scents.”

The moment she lit the candle with a match, the aroma invaded Hendery’s nostrils. He had smelled strawberries and their blossoms before, but it had been a while; and this candle smells exactly like it.

“Nice,” he smiled. “Hendery likes this scent.”

Brittany just smiled as she put away the matches.

Once she sat down on the stool, she picked up her book and opened it. It was only a teacher’s edition of a high school anatomy book, but it had every human body system and was easy to follow. As Hendery listened to the anatomy lesson, he carefully lathered his torso and tail with the sweet smelling soaps Brittany had for him to use. He paid very close attention to everything that poured out of his lover’s mouth and memorized every diagram that was shown to him from the cardiovascular system all the way to the endocrine system.

The reproductive system, however, made him nervous. Males and females were the same up until that area of the anatomy. He had seen a dolphin being born, but never a human nor merfolk. The thought of childbirth being a painful process for the woman was hard for his mind to wrap around. Having a family of his own seemed exciting to Hendery, especially with the woman he loved, but he hated the thought of her in excruciating pain from just having a baby.

“Hendery is scared that if Brittany gets pregnant it will hurt her,” he declared, worry laced in his voice.

Brittany blinked. She wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. How was she to answer that?

“Well,” she said once she came out of her stupor, “childbirth has been painful since the dawn of time. Most human babies are born in hospitals, and the mom can get what’s known as an epidural to ease the pain.”

“What about when the child is in the female?” he asked.

“From what my cousins have told me, it can be uncomfortable; but every woman who goes through pregnancy has different experiences.”

Hendery was silent but gave a nod in understandment.

“Does Brittany want a baby?” he blurted out.

Brittany sighed, but not in anger or disappointment, just unsure. Of course, she wanted kids of her own one day; but she had only known Hendery for almost two months and was now his lover.

“You have a way with words, my love,” she gave a soft smile. “But one day, I will.”

“Hendery didn’t mean now,” he defended. “Just whenever his love feels ready.”

Before she gave him a soft kiss, she responded with a smile, “I’ll let you know.”

Setting the book on the counter, Brittany scooted her stool closer to Hendery in order to kiss him properly. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his water soaked arms pulled her into a hug. When she was too distracted by his lips, Hendery decided to pull her into the tub, the cold water catching her by surprise as she squealed out.

“Dude, it’s ice and soapy!” Brittany squealed as they both burst into a fit of laughter.

“Hendery felt playful,” he replied as he attacked her cheek with multiple kisses.

“I figured that,” she giggled as her shorts and giant shirt stuck to her body. “At least I was still in my pjs.”

Tags: @strawberryguema @ezralia-writes @not-majestic-bluenicorn @queen-of-himbos @dearyongs @daybreakx @jaekissd @lilhwahwa @fantasywayv @philosopher-of-fandoms @the32ndbeat @dreamystuffers

#kwritersworldnet #nct-writers #kpopficsnetwork #wayvhoursnet #nctcreations #kpopscape #kdiarynet #kdiner #neothestars #nct #wayv #wayv hendery #wayv hendery fluff #wayv hendery angst #wong kunhang #hendery fluff #hendery angst

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random-imagines-blog · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet (Barry Allen x Reader)

Requested by: @kurtbastianlover Wordcount: 3967 Summary: Like every fan’s dream, you suddenly drop into your favorite television show.

The world could be a very mysterious place. Not knowing how they built the great pyramids, the Bermuda triangle, the current US president - but the biggest one was how the hell you went from falling asleep on your couch, to waking up in a bed in the fictional STAR Labs with the actress Daniel Panabaker sitting across the room, looking at medical charts on the computer. When you blinked open your eyes and looked around your surroundings, you tried to think of how this could be happening. There was too much detail for it to be a dream, you could see things that were just background blurs in the show. And the IV needle stuck in your arm hurt too much for that to be part of a dream too. It grew itchy and you scratched the area around it, which caught the attention of the actress. She got to her feet and pressed a call button that made her voice echo throughout the lab. ‘They’re awake!’

“Alright, is there some new prank show out there where they drug you and put you on the set of your favorite show? Because that seems a bit on the illegal side, Netflix will never pick it up.” You looked at your arm and at the needle. You’d seen movies and shows where people pull them out of their own arms, and it always looks uncomfortable. “I’ll play along if you can get a Doctor or a nurse to come and pull this thing out of me. Health and safety nightmare for me to-”

A bright flash appeared, and then there he was. Grant Gustin himself, wearing the infamous, skintight Flash suit. It looked even better in person than it did on your shitty little tv. But how did he get there so fast? You would have noticed if he just walked in. It’s like you were watching reality with special effects. “Wow, it really sprung for the big names.”

“What are they talking about?” Grant leaned in to ask Danielle, who looked at you concerned.

“Grant Gustin, Danielle Panabaker. I met the both of you at SDCC a couple of years ago, after the first season came out. I don’t expect you to remember me, though you certainly made an impression on me,” You chuckled nervously. Danielle shrugged and looked puzzled, before coming closer to you with her hands up. You didn’t make a fuss, only watched carefully as she removed the IV so you were free to move about. “Did they have enough in the budget for Carlos?”

“Who is Carlos?” Grant asked, moving forward. “Is that the person who did this to you, or someone we could track down or...”

“Cisco Ramone? Seriously, what kind of show is this?” You looked between the two actors, frowning now. It had been a bit fun at the start, but the genuinely confused look on their faces was making that run out quick. “Alright, the only thing that I can do from here is pretend that this is serious, so that’s what I’ll do.” You breathed, then got to your feet, realizing that you were still in your pajamas. Well, this certainly is not how you wanted anyone to see you.

“How do you know Cisco?” Danielle asked. You noticed they were avoiding any sort of conversation about this being a show, as though they were scared of the topic. You didn’t blame them. You’d be confused if you were just going about your life and someone showed up and said they knew your life.

“We’ve never met, but I guess you can say that I know a lot about all of you.” You admitted. “I know that sounds crazy but hey, if I somehow slipped from one earth to another, in your words, then anything is possible, right?”

“I’m going to go get Cisco,” Danielle said, backing away, and left the room, leaving you alone with Grant. You stretched your back and took a better look around, noticing that there was no cameras, and the room was indeed closed off - not open like a set. Once Danielle was back with Carlos - it was strange to think of them as their characters when they were standing in front of you - you cleared your throat. “You guys might want to sit down, I have a lot to say.”

When you were done, and having done a short introduction of yourself, the three in front of you seemed to have their minds blown. Grant, no, Barry, had taken off the hood of his costume since you revealed that you knew his identity anyway.

“So somewhere in the multiverse, we’re a TV show. Please tell me I’m played by someone good,” Cisco said, looking at you eagerly.

“You’re played by a guy who looked exactly you. And this is your only real acting gig. It’s great though, you’re fantastic. And Caitlin, you’re Danielle Panabaker, you did, let me think,” You tried to remember other things you’ve seen her in. “A Friday the 13th remake, and a high school superhero film called Sky High. You controlled plants and were hella feminist.” She seemed more troubled at this than happy. “And Grant, sorry, Barry, you also did Glee, which is funny because so did Melissa - er, Supergirl.”

“So this is really all just a TV show? You know all about it?” Barry reiterated.

“Uh - probably, unless I somehow just changed the timeline. Can you tell me about what’s been going on recently? Because by the looks of things, I might actually be ahead of you guys.”

“Tony - he’s made of metal or something. We were fighting and then I just saw you, lying off the side of the road. I couldn’t tell what was wrong, you were just unconscious so I brought you here,” Barry explained. You thought for a moment, Tony, Tony - no, you couldn’t be this far back, could you?

“Tony, as in your childhood villain, Tony?” You asked to be sure.

“That’s where I remember him from!” Barry jumped up. “I knew he looked familiar. But how-”

“This is just season one stuff. You have no idea how crazy things are going to get from here.” You sighed. “This is like, calm before the storm type of things. I could tell you how you eventually defeat him, if you want me to.”

“Season one, how many seasons are there?” Caitlin finally spoke up.

“So far - six.”

“I gotta go tell Harrison about this, he’s going to freak-” Cisco said. At the mention of Harrison Wells, you remembered the twist at the end of the season, and instinctively reached out and grabbed Cisco’s wrist. He stopped, surprised. It was the first contact that you’ve reached out for with any of them. It was still hard to believe that they were real, and you were touching skin. Cisco’s skin.

“It would be extremely dangerous to tell him any of what I’ve just told you,” You said, seriously. “I wish I could tell you, but it would also be dangerous if I did that. Just um - just tell him I’m diabetic and I passed out on the street, and I’m - I don’t know, a cousin or something, because if he finds out who I am and what I know...”

“Do you know who killed my mom?” Barry asked, getting onto his feet.

“Uhh - yes, but - oh god, please don’t make me tell you the big things. I have a really bad feeling about this.”

“Let’s give y/n a little space, okay?” Caitlin said, smiling at you softly. You returned it, knowing that by doing this, you were giving them a little space. You climbed back onto the bed in the medical room and closed your eyes tightly.

You even tried to click your heels three times, muttering, “There’s no place like home,” but that didn’t do anything. You were still here, in the Flashverse. And you had a lot of decisions to make on what to tell them. They weren’t just entertainment now, you could be putting lives at risk. You could be putting your own if Eobard Thawne, under the guise of Harrison Wells, knew that you knew the future. You probably already ruined it by telling them that they had six seasons of adventures ahead of them. You sighed, and went over what you could remember of the first season, especially what was coming up next.

“He seems undefeatable,” Barry said, coming to you in the Medical Bay. A couple of days had already past. Caitlin got you some clothes to change into, and had concocted a story to Harrison about how you had been her neighbor when she was younger. He seemed to buy it and welcome you, which was a bit difficult for you to accept naturally, but you did your best. He still seemed to linger, however, especially when you were alone with one of the members of the team. This was your first one on one talk with Barry since you got here.

“He’s not - Cisco comes up with a way. You defeat him, with a little help from Iris actually. Just give it a little time, and stop trying to just punch him, it’s clearly not working.”

“Does she know who I am?” Barry asked, growing nervous at the mention of Iris’s involvement. “Does she find out when we fight Tony?”

“No, this isn’t how she finds out, but she does eventually. So just keep being careful, alright?”

“Yeah, alright.” Barry nodded. “Hey, have you had a chance to check out Jitters yet?”

“Haven’t really been able to leave this place, no matter how many times I try to explain to Cisco that there’s no Central City in my world so running into a double of me is impossible.”

“Do you want to go, with me?” Barry asked. A flush came across your cheeks. You always thought that Grant Gustin was handsome, and that Barry Allen was an amazing character, so seeing that face, with that personality, and seeing those lips form ‘do you want to go with me’ was overwhelming to you.

“Is this just a ploy so you can go see Iris?” You questioned, trying to play it off cool.

“No, though she might be working. I just thought that since you’re here, I could show you around. Maybe you’ll see something that isn’t in the show.”

“Sure, sure,” You teased, knowing that he was in love with his best friend and that they would one day get married. It was best not to get your hopes up. “Oh, and can we also go to Big Belly Burger? I’ve always wanted to try it.”

Barry laughed at that, but agreed that he would take you there for dinner.

Apart from the danger of being near the big bad from the first season, being here was a dream come true.

You sat across from Barry at a small Jitters table with large coffee mugs in front of you. The place was larger than you thought it would be, but you only were able to see a bit of it due to camera angles. You got what sounded best, while Barry got his usual. And of course, Iris was working. It was just like the show, where she was front and center while there were background characters literally in the background.

“So you know all about us, why don’t you tell me a little about you?” Barry asked, taking a sip from his coffee. He was barely looking over at Iris, it was odd.

“Oh, I’m really not that interesting,” You said, brushing it off. “Not like you guys anyway. My life is pretty pedestrian.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Barry frowned. “There’s got to be something.”

“Well, I live by myself, so apart from my job, I doubt anyone has noticed that I left yet. Thank God I don’t have a pet or else I’d be freaking out about them not being fed,” You chuckled, trying to think of anything that might be of interest. You told him about your job, and how it wasn’t nearly as cool as being a superhero.

“You shouldn’t compare yourself to other people as often. Especially not TV characters,” Barry said, looking a little concerned.

“I guess I do that a lot, huh?” You tried to lighten the mood with a little chuckle. “Is there anything that you want to know, by the way? I mean, I can’t spoil the big things, obviously, but there’s probably some things that I can tell you.”

“There’s one thing that I’ve been thinking about, but you don’t know the answer,” Barry frowned. “How you being here is going to affect the timeline that you know.”

“I hope someone cool plays me in the show,” You mirrored what Cisco had said earlier. This made Barry laugh which was a wonderful sight to see. He was so stressed about this whole Tony thing, and his mother’s investigation. Looking at him smile, you noticed that he hadn’t been looking at Iris throughout the whole conversation, but seemed to have his eyes set only on you. You wondered if - maybe - did he think the same way about you that you thought about him?

“You would definitely be played by someone cool.”

You wiggled around in your seat, a little more bashful than you were before. “Barry, I have to ask-”

You were cut off by a shadow over the table,and it belonged to the one and only Iris West. She was absolutely stunning in person, just as she was on your TV screen. “Nothing else for you two before we close up?”

You were surprised by that, and looked at the clock only to find that you had been there for hours. Wrapping your arms around yourself, feeling shy next to the supermodel beside you, you shook your head.

“Iris,” Barry said, getting to his feet, as if just realizing that she was there. “This is y/n.”

“Thanks for the delicious coffee,” You said, smiling awkwardly. You really did have a problem with comparing yourself to other people. Being here had made that abundantly clear.

“You’re welcome,” Iris said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Barry has been rather busy lately, I’m guessing that’s because of you?”

“A lot of things, but yeah, y/n has been ... helpful.” You nodded along as Barry gave a haphazard explanation for your friendship. The look on Iris’s face showed that she didn’t entirely buy it but she dropped the subject.

“However, we are closing so - Barry, do you want to come for dinner at dad’s house sometime this week?”

“Uh - maybe, I’ll let you know.” Barry stood up and put his coat back on, and you did the same. Both of you left, and once you were out in the night air, you let out a huge breath.

“It’s a bit awkward, isn’t it?” You asked. “Iris is your best friend and you’re in love with her then along comes me and makes it uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

“You know about that too?” Barry looked at you, then sighed, leading the way towards the fast food place. “Is there anything that you don’t know?”

You thought for a minute, then shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t really know where to go from here. I mean, both the burger place, and in this weird life.” He nodded along, listening to ramble about how you missed your old life a bit, even though it wasn’t nearly as exciting as this. Within a couple of minutes, you had it all out of your system and were finding a place to sit while he ordered the burgers.

“Thought we could eat outside,” Barry said, holding up the bag. You nodded, agreeing with that, and the two of you found yourselves sitting on a nearby bench, looking out at the water. “I know things have really changed for you but, I like having you around.”

“Really?” You squeaked more than said, which made you blush again. You never even blushed this much in the real world, but then again, you didn’t have anyone like Barry Allen in your real life. He looked at you and a little grin came across his face - and you recognized it. It was the same grin that he had when he looked at Iris during the show. “Um - thanks, that’s really nice of you to say.”

Barry’s phone ruined the moment, the annoying beeping not stopping until he took it out of his pocket. “Hold on, it’s Cisco,” He said, and answered it. “Cisco? Yeah, y/n’s with me, really? I thought it would take longer than that... Okay, yeah, we’ll head that way now.” He hung up then put it back into his pocket, and looked over at you. “He found a way to potentially get you back home.”

“Oh, alright,” You said, a little disappointed. It felt like things were only beginning to grow here, like maybe you could have a place, but you knew in your heart it wasn’t right. Any move that you make now could affect the lives of these people. Knowing the future and not being able to tell them was extremely difficult. “Yeah, we should head over there.”

“Y/N...” Barry started, but then stopped as you got up and started to walk away from the bench. He jogged, rather than raced, to catch up with you. “It might not even work-”

“But it might. And then - then I’ll have to be content with watching you all on the television again, once a week, seeing you fight and be in pain, and see bad things happen, and good things and not being able to be there anymore...”

“I’m sorry,” Barry said, looking down at you as the both of you walked, hands shoved deep in his pockets. “I wish you could stay here.”

“Yeah, me too.”

You weren’t as thrilled about the idea of going back as Cisco thought that you would be, but you put a big smile on your face so he wouldn’t feel bad about all the work he put into it. When he explained that he would be attempting to alter your frequencies in the same was as televisions in their world, you just nodded and smiled.

“It was really nice to meet you all, I guess I’ll be seeing you again soon.” Your laugh gave away that you were a bit sad about this. They each gave you a hug - first Caitlin, then Cisco, then Barry, though his seemed to linger for longer.

It wasn’t until you rested your head against his chest that you realized that this was your only chance. At first, you were hesitant to bring it up, but then you looked into his eyes and knew that you had to. “Remember how I was going to ask you something at Jitters?” You licked your lips, still slightly tasting the Big Belly Burger, and wished you had a mint or something.

“Yes,” Barry nodded. You smiled slightly, and tried to think of how to word it. Iris had thrown you off your guard back at the coffee shop, and you had to get those thoughts back together.

“I was going to ask if it would be alright if I considered coffee and the burger as a date. It would be really cool to be the only person on my Earth who can say they had a date with a comic book hero.”

He chuckled at that and you thought for a second you had made him blush, but it could have just been the lights. “We can both call it that,” He agreed.

“And would it be alright if I ended this date ... with a kiss?” Even you couldn’t believe how bold that you were being, and Barry looked a little shocked by it as well. You two had just started to get to know each other but he thought that you were a lot more shy than this. But he nodded his head, so you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his.

It was a good thing that he also tasted like burger, so neither of you had to feel insecure. Apart from that, it was amazing - there was a storm rumbling in your belly, which was more powerful than any butterflies you’ve ever felt before. It was like being on a roller coaster that was just about to totter down a large drop. It was like coming across untarnished treasure. It was beyond any other kiss that you ever had before, and when it ended, you were holding in tears that you had to leave.

He looked at you sadly as well, and took a couple of steps back. You smiled, because despite the sorrow at leaving, you were happy that it had happened at all. “Alright Cisco, beam me up.”

The last thing that you remembered was him pointing a device at you, and some sort of weird vibration going through your body. And then you woke up, which was startling because you didn’t remember falling asleep. You were back on your couch, with the credits of a recent Flash episode playing on your television. The only thing that was different was your clothes. It wasn’t the pajamas that you had been lounging it, but rather, it was an outfit that Caitlin had found for you, and that you had worn on your date with Barry.

That’s how you know that everything that happened was real, and not just some crazy dream. These were definitely not clothes that you owned.

You sat up and reached for your cellphone which was charging on the armrest of the couch. You saw that your phone was not only fully charged, but that you missed three days of your life, that you had 13 missed calls, 22 text messages and plenty of notifications from phone games - and of course, the ever threatening Duolingo reminders. You swept past those and called your best friend right away. She sounded sleepy as she answered the phone, given that it was almost one in the morning.

“You won’t believe what just happened to me,” You said.

“Does it have something to do with the fact that you’ve been lounging around, not answering your phone for three days?” Your friend yawned.

“Yes, actually, it does. I just went on a date with The Flash.”

You waited for your friends reaction to either think it was a joke, or be utterly surprised. It turned out to be neither. “Y/N, I know, you’ve been saying that since that episode came out.” You could hear them rolling their eyes from here. “Yes, there was a character with the same name as you back in season one, we get it, can I go back to sleep now?”

“Yeah, sure,” You said, and hung up. You looked blankly at the TV as another episode started. A rerun, but from season five, not the season that you were in. You rested back against the couch and watched it, a longing in your heart to return back to the show. You wouldn’t be able to watch it without remembering the feeling of Barry’s lips.

#Barry Allen #Barry Allen x reader #The Flash #The Flash x reader #DC #DC x reader #Barry Allen oneshot #The Flash oneshot #DC oneshot #oneshot #request

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Let the Love be Your Life (Branjie) - Athena2

Summary: After their kid doesn’t know one of their favorite movies, Brooke and Vanessa have a little movie marathon introducing favorite movies to them.

A/N: This is a Christmas gift for Writ because they’re the absolute best. It also fulfills the prompt ‘List’ for Ficmas over @writethehousedown, so you can find it there as well! It’s pretty much pure fluff and I hope you enjoy! I’d appreciate any feedback you have!

Also, thank you to everyone who’s read and commented on my fics this past year. It’s been a really hard year for most of us, and sharing my stories with you made it a little brighter for me, and I hope for you as well.

Title from Mother from Carole and Tuesday.

—

“Brooke, can you get me a bowl?” Vanessa calls over from the stove, where she’s stirring a pot of rice.

“As you wish.” Brooke snorts after she says it, trading smiles with Vanessa. One of their favorite movies, and the first couples costume they did all those years ago for Nina’s world-famous–or at least city-famous–Halloween party, where there was always full catering, a DJ, and at least one rumored celebrity hidden behind a mask. One person isn’t smiling though, and it’s their kid, pausing table-setting to stare at them.

“‘As you wish?’” Sam repeats in confusion. “What is this, the Middle Ages?”

Brooke’s mouth falls open. “What? No, it’s from a movie.”

“Oh.” Sam shrugs and goes back to setting the table, clearly unimpressed.

Vanessa is nowhere near as calm, her wooden spoon clattering on the counter. “Brooke, our child doesn’t know The Princess Bride!” She leaves the stove to stand by Brooke, shaking her head in outrage.

“We’ve officially failed as parents,” Brooke agrees.

Sam rolls their eyes. “It’s just some old movie, right?”

“‘Some old movie,’” Vanessa mutters under her breath. “‘Some old movie.’ Brooke, we gotta fix this.”

Brooke nods. She and Vanessa have always let Sam be themself, reading and watching stuff freely, as long as it wasn’t too dark or upsetting. But in all that, they must have forgotten to show Sam all the movies they had wanted to, the movies that Brooke and Vanessa love.

When Vanessa got stuck on bed rest towards the end of her pregnancy, she watched movies to pass the time, and Brooke joined her when she could, rubbing Vanessa’s aching back and massaging her shoulders, doing anything she could to make her more comfortable. They talked about all the movies they wanted to watch after their baby was born, the things they wanted to do and memories they wanted to make as a family. They had even made a list of movies, but it got lost somewhere in the chaos of having a new baby. Sam might be nine now, but they can still make those memories, and Brooke claps her hands. “We need a movie marathon!”

Vanessa jumps up and down. “Yeah! This week, we’re gonna watch a bunch of movies! Sammy’s on winter break, it’s perfect! We can do one every night! Peter Pan, and the Peanuts, and Muppets Christmas Carol–”

“Jurassic Park,” Brooke adds, grabbing a notebook and pen. “And Star Wars, and Matilda … my movies are way better than yours, babe.”

“Nuh-uh!” Vanessa yells. “Mine are classics!”

“I guess Sam will be the judge of that, then.” Brooke grins.

“They will be, and you can do dishes for a week when they like mine better,” Vanessa says, raising her eyebrow mischievously.

“What do I get if I win?” Brooke asks. It better be something good, something Vanessa hates as much as Brooke hates doing dishes.

Vanessa thinks. “I’ll do the laundry for a week.”

Vanessa hates folding clothes since she does it all day in her boutique. Brooke doesn’t mind laundry, exactly, but she’ll happily let Vanessa take over and fold the endless amounts of clothes for a week.

“Deal.” Brooke smiles, all thoughts of rivalry gone and replaced with excitement of the memories they’ll make.

—

i. The Princess Bride

“Okay, is everyone ready?” Brooke stands in front of the TV, making sure Vanessa and Sam are settled on the couch with pillows and blankets and the cats, canyon-sized bowl of popcorn and cupcakes from Brooke’s sister Kameron’s bakery all ready for the night.

“Ready!” Vanessa yells. Brooke presses play, and Vanessa opens her arms for Brooke to snuggle into as the movie starts.

“At least you two aren’t wearing your costumes,” Sam teases. Vanessa and Brooke have probably been a little too eager in showing Sam that picture over the years, but Vanessa looked like a literal princess in her red Princess Buttercup dress, Brooke was the perfect Westley, and they got compliments through the entire party, so sue them for showing off. Vanessa still remembers the cool silk flowing around her and warming her hand on the soft bit of skin revealed by Brooke’s shirt.

“Don’t think we weren’t tempted,” Vanessa says. “They’re in the attic somewhere, I bet I could still fit in that dress–”

“Do we need to pause it already?” Brooke asks, and Vanessa swats at her before snuggling back down and watching the movie.

Vanessa finds herself watching her family more than the movie, watching Brooke’s eyes widen and her lips stretch into a grin like she’s never seen it before. Then she turns to Sam, who really has never seen it before. They’re skeptical at first, face blank, but then their brown eyes–so warm and expressive, like Vanessa’s–light up when the Dread Pirate Roberts reveals himself to be Westley. By the end, their smile is huge.

“You liked it, huh?” Vanessa asks.

Sam looks down. “I guess,” they say, and Vanessa knows their nine-year-old heart can’t quite admit something their parents like is cool, but it’s a start, and she’s counting this as a win in both her and Brooke’s column.

“Well, I’m ready for tomorrow!” Vanessa yells, pulling Brooke in for a kiss.

—

ii. Star Wars

Brooke knows the baby Yoda ugly sweater and Star Wars pajama pants are overkill, but she can’t help it. From the moment she first saw the movie as a seven-year-old, all she wanted was to be a Jedi like Luke and save the galaxy. She and Kameron made lightsabers out of foam swords and spray paint, and they ran around their background slicing through enemies and saving the day. Kameron had even made truffles decorated like the Death Star when Brooke told her what they were watching, her brown eyes warm with memories of their Jedi days.

Brooke doesn’t know whether this movie thing between her and Vanessa is a contest, but if it is, she doesn’t really care about it for this movie. She just wants to watch it with her kid, hope they find the same joy in it that she did.

Sam seems to be enjoying the truffles at least, and they shove another one in their mouth. “Aunt Kam’s stuff is so good,” they say with their mouth full, and Brooke agrees.

The music blasts and opening crawl creeps onto the screen, and Brooke grins, even when Vanessa rolls her eyes fondly and asks her continual question of why everyone else has such ‘weird-ass names’ and Luke’s is normal.

Brooke didn’t think anything would be better than the first time she saw it, in their living room with salty popcorn burning her lips and Kameron next to her, but watching it now, with her wife at her side and their kid on the other couch watching with wide eyes, just might be even better. She never thought she would have this life, a family around her like this, and she pulls Vanessa little closer, breathing in the familiar scent of her coconut shampoo.

Sam is grinning when the movie ends, and warmth rushes through Brooke’s chest, that her kid enjoyed something that means a lot to Brooke.

“That’s my favorite one so far,” they say sheepishly, and Brooke lets out a whoop.

“All right, all right, it’s only been two movies so far,” Vanessa says. “We’re goin’ to Neverland tomorrow, and then we’ll see what’s better.”

—-

iii. Peter Pan

Vanessa feels like a professor as she stands in front of the TV, Sam and Brooke staring at her expectantly.

“Is this a presentation?” Brooke teases. “Should I take notes?”

“Oh please, you’re the one who loves presentations,” Vanessa says fondly. “No presentation–this movie did make me want to go into design, though. Oh! And it was the first sign that I was bi. Little kid me didn’t know if she wanted a flying boyfriend or a fairy girlfriend more.” Vanessa grins dreamily. She can still remember her heart fluttering the same way when she looked at Peter and his coppery hair as it did when she watched Tinkerbell pout, how it all made sense when she was seventeen and fully realized that she was bi for the first time.

“Start the movie, Ma!” Sam yells.

Vanessa does, then instantly pauses it, turning to Sam with worries in her mind. “Don’t get any stupid ideas from this movie, now!” she warns. “Don’t go flying around with people who show up in your window, no matter how cute they are! And Wendy was a child, acting all grown, Lord help us when you become a teenager–”

“Okay, Ness,” Brooke soothes, motioning for Vanessa to sit with her and pulling her into a hug when she does.

“I promise I won’t fly around with people in my window,” Sam says, and Vanessa smiles, reaching over and ruffling their brown waves.

“You better not,” Vanessa says, leaning back into Brooke, her wife still as cozy to cuddle with as she’s always been.

Vanessa’s dancing in place and belting out all the songs in no time. She’s known all the words since she was six, when she would perform the whole movie in her living room or sing them to herself as she drew fierce pirate coats and sparkly fairies with striped wings, and they’ve refused to leave her brain, even if she wishes she could have that space for something useful like where she put her phone.

Brooke’s not much of a singer, but she hums along, and when Sam’s soft voice hesitantly joins Vanessa’s, she knows the night is a success.

—

iv. Matilda

It’s not as action-packed as her other favorite movies on the list, but as a shy kid who always had her nose in a book, Brooke’s always had a soft spot for Matilda. After she had to accept that becoming a Jedi wasn’t a viable career path, it had been Matilda that gave her the idea to become a librarian. She could surround herself with books all day, and help people find the book they were looking for, introducing them to whole new worlds through the pages, just like she does with each bedtime story for Sam every night.

“This is a movie about a kid with magic powers, right?” Sam asks.

“Right,” Vanessa says, “and Mommy loves it because she’s a big nerd.”

“Hey!” Brooke protests, but Vanessa is laughing and giving her a warm hug.

“You know I love you for it,” Vanessa says simply, and Brooke hugs her back and knows it’s true.

It’s nice to watch a movie she hasn’t seen since she was a kid and find it still makes her smile the same way, still gives her the same hope at seeing a shy girl who loved books the way she did—and still does. Brooke has never been the confident, outgoing kid in so many movies. She was quiet and kept to herself, and Matilda gave her a world where she could be the hero. She hopes Sam always feels that way too, always knows that they can be the hero.

When the credits roll, Sam declares that it’s not their favorite off the list, but Brooke doesn’t mind.

—-

v. Peanuts

“Why are these even on the list?” Sam asks as Vanessa fiddles with the TV. “I’ve seen all the Peanuts movies.”

“And you’ll see them again!” Vanessa yells. “This is different. They’re official now, on the list and everything.” She starts the Easter special and shuts down all the arguments, biting into a peanut butter cookie.

“All right, all right.” Sam gives in, but they’re not complaining. Sam once tried to make Riley dance like Snoopy, and Vanessa knows they love these movies just as much as she does.

“This is another thing that got me into fashion,” Vanessa says. “Because I didn’t know why they always wore the same boring old clothes in all the movies, so I drew them wearing some new ones.”

“Of course you did.” Brooke grins.

“Well, I had to jazz those outfits up! They’ve been wearing the same clothes forever!” Vanessa laughs. She’s always wanted people to wear clothes they feel like themselves in, and somewhere in between drawing new outfits for cartoon characters, she decided that was what she wanted to do, and it’s what she still does with her own little boutique, just up the street from the library where Brooke works. She loves getting to help people pick out the perfect outfit, watching them smile as they come out feeling as good as they had hoped.

She leans back as Charlie Brown and the others take them through all the seasons, from Easter to Halloween to Thanksgiving and finally Christmas, where Vanessa reaches for tissues and even Sam pretends they have dust in their eye. Vanessa always wanted to fight the other kids for being so mean to Charlie, and even as an adult, the urge is still there.

When the movie’s done, an idea pops into Vanessa’s hand. She whips out her phone and brings up the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack, yanking Brooke into the middle of the room and pulling her into a dance while Sam twirls around with Riley, cats watching from the couch, unimpressed.

“Ness, you’re making me dizzy,” Brooke giggles as Vanessa spins her faster and faster, until they almost crash into the Christmas tree.

Sam is cackling next to them, and Vanessa slows up, pressing her chest close to Brooke’s and melting as Brooke places a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

It’s her favorite movie night by far.

—

vi. Jurassic Park

All her movies on the list are special, but this one just might be the most special for Brooke. Because this is what she and Vanessa watched on their first date.

Brooke had started her first job at the library the same summer Vanessa started doing formal design sketches for a portfolio. She came to the library to get fashion books for ideas, and Brooke secretly hoped she would come back in every day, so they could make small talk and maybe she could say something funny to see Vanessa smile again. And almost every day, Vanessa came back.

Summer was half over and Brooke thought they would do nothing but talk with a library desk between them when Vanessa finally asked her to a movie in the park, both of them giggling as they set the date because they were finally going out after weeks of flirting and smiling and wondering if feelings were reciprocated. A dinosaur movie might not have been the most romantic choice for a first date, but they curled up together on a plaid blanket and let their fingers meet in the bag of buttery popcorn, and when Vanessa gave her a soft kiss as the end theme song played, Brooke knew she was the one.

She looks at her wife now, humming along to the opening theme and eating the dinosaur sugar cookie Kameron made, and knows that she’s still the one.

They snuggle up together and make dinosaur noises that cause Sam to look at them in annoyance, but it only makes them laugh harder.

They watch on the edge of their seats even though they know the ending, and Sam does the same, jumping every time a dinosaur pops out. When the end theme plays softly as the characters escape in the helicopter, Vanessa has tears in her eyes. Brooke’s not a big cryer–the last time she cried was probably when Sam was still a baby–but her eyes pool with dampness too, until she and Vanessa are holding each other and half-laughing, half-crying, because this movie is what brought them together.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks in alarm. “Why are you crying over a dinosaur movie?”

Brooke and Vanessa just laugh and exchange a soft kiss.

—

vii. The Muppet Christmas Carol

Christmas has always been Vanessa’s favorite holiday. As a kid, she fought her brothers every day to move the little Christmas tree counter on their Advent calendar, her excitement only growing as the day grew nearer. She’d just make it through the extra-long church service, and then she was free to play with her cousins and stuff herself with cookie after cookie and wake with the sunrise Christmas morning to jump in her parents’ bed.

Only now that she has her own child jumping in her and Brooke’s bed at an ungodly hour each Christmas does she realize why her parents would groan so loudly and what a little demon she must have been.

But her and Brooke don’t mind–they both love it, really, love all their traditions. There are the cookies they bake all month, the toy drive they help with at Sam’s school, and then Vanessa’s turn bringing Sam shopping to buy Brooke’s present and Brooke’s turn taking Sam to buy Vanessa’s present. The weekend after Thanksgiving, when they’re still stuffed with leftovers, the tree goes up, the three of them passing ornaments around while Vanessa narrates the history of how they got each one and almost falls on the tree trying to prove to Brooke that she can reach the tall branches. The tree is her favorite part, with the rainbow lights twinkling and the shining star looking over them. The tree is extra bright tonight, Christmas just days away, as Vanessa starts one of her favorite Christmas movies.

“This was my favorite to watch when I was pregnant with you,” Vanessa says to Sam. “The doctor said I had to go on bed rest, and I was so mad because it was almost Christmas and I wanted to do stuff. This was the next best thing.” She still remembers those long days, the pain in her back and hips and shoulders combined with the sadness of not being able to hang up lights or bake cookies or do much of anything. The Muppets at least made her smile, gave her a piece of Christmas she could have while stuck in bed. And when Sam was born perfectly healthy in January, she knew it had all been worth it.

“I swear, I heard Kermit in my sleep for weeks,” Brooke says, rolling her eyes but smiling anyway.

“You love Kermit and you know it,” Vanessa says.

Brooke just snorts, but Vanessa knows she’s right.

Vanessa knows most of the words—she really did watch this movie a ridiculous amount of times when she was pregnant—and finds her mouth moving along with the characters. The movie still makes her just as happy as it did when she was stuck in bed, makes her love Christmas and her family that much more. It doesn’t mean she’s forgotten the bet though, and the credits have just started to roll when Vanessa leaps from the couch and turns to Sam. “So?” she asks expectantly.

“So what?” Sam asks casually.

Vanessa huffs. “So, whose movies did you like better? Mine, right? Say mine.”

“No way.” Brooke pops up behind her. “Mine were way better.”

Sam just rolls their eyes. “Come on, you know I can’t pick between you two. You’re both my favorite.”

Vanessa melts then, pulling Sam into a bone-crushing hug, Brooke wrapping her arms around both of them.

“I guess we’ll just split the house stuff next week,” Vanessa says.

“You mean like we already do anyway?” Brooke snorts, holding them tighter.

Vanessa just smiles. She has her family, and tomorrow is their holiday party with all their friends, and then Christmas with her family and Brooke’s family, and her smile deepens. She watches the snow fall softly outside and knows this will be the best Christmas ever.

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #lesbian au #fluff #athena2 #concrit welcome #submission

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