#not even digging into the change lost in their couch or car for it

[fullscoreshenanigans]

gonna be so sad the day Netflix US drops TPN but also love how it’s not touching S2 with a ten-foot pole

[dairy-farmer]

So fun fact: I sometimes loose my hearing after a good orgasam. Actually it’s kinda all the time. I don’t know if this is normal or if anyone else gets this. It’s just always happened to me. The best way I can describe the actual hearing loss is likehigh pitch ringing and everything sounds muffled and far away. Kinda like in movies when there has been an explosion and the main character can’t hear anything for a bit. Except for we it can be like 5-20 minutes usually it it has occasionally been longer. It slowly comes back by its self, or sometimes comes back suddenly like when your ears pop after a plane ride.

Anyway it’s never really gotten me into too much trouble but I like to imagine Tim who loves to finger himself in his private bathroom in his office stumbling into a WE meeting completely deaf.

He doesn’t even have to be sleeping with someone. In fact it’s kinda better if Tim is a chronic masterbater pervert that gets of 10 times per day. He gets really good at finishing quickly and quietly. He gets back from patrol 10 minutes before everyone else and rubs one out right there while straddling his bike, no time to get in the shower. He gets 20min of peace and quiet while on a stake out. He sits on a gargoyle the right way and the seem of his suit rubs just right. He once finished just as the bell rang while waiting for Damian outside school in the pick up area. He was in his car and it had tinted windows so what’s the harm. He has and does make everyone turn on the subtitles for him during movie nights or when watching a tv show with his brothers because he sometimes will get himself off under the blankets or just right there on the couch if they are sitting in front of him.

He’s not even into like risky stuff or exhibitionism, he genuinely doesn’t want to get caught he just loves orgasams. His dream life is to stay in bed all day masterbating but he is so busy and doesn’t even have time to sleep so he just gets of when he can….and often. It’s about compromise he will just up a few hours of sleep but he refuses to have less then 3 orgasms a day. Hearing lost be damned, he can read people lips and he’s smart enough to understand a situation even without one of his senses.

Does his family notice that sometimes Tim is completely deaf? Yes and no. His brother just think he’s an idiot and probably daydreaming. Bruce however does notice and keeps asking to check his hearing. Tim keeps telling him his hearing is fine and that no he can’t check it.

It comes to a head when after months of pestering him, and then giving him a full lecture that turns into a fight. Because Tim doesn’t hear him say something vitally important out in the field or during a fight or something.

Tim lets him do a hearing test and Bruce is very confused when Tim’s hearing is perfectly fine.

…Maybe Bruce digs deeper and spies on Tim because he can’t let it go. Maybe he finds out just why little Timmy is sometimes totally deaf 🥰☺️

i can't say i've ever heard of that before but it definitely sounds possible! ears are weird because mine 'crackle' when i yawn.

but tim going temporarily deaf after masturbating 👀👀👀 presents so much potential. him losing his hearing because he can't not touch himself because he just loves the feeling so much. the way his insides buzz and clench the way his whole body feels warm and lax. he finally unclenches his jaw and his headaches go away and in exchange he just can't hear for a few minutes- it always comes back to so it's not a big enough deal to bring up. plus it saves him some of the embarrassment because in his family literally nothing stays secret, any shift or change in his medical file will be public knowledge. tim's even pretty sure dick and bruce have their notifications turned on for any changes to his file.

of course it ends up backfiring eventually because tim had decided to take a small "break" and ended up missing a cue in a fight he was dragged into. of course bruce doesn't let it go, he brings up past instances as proof of tim's waning hearing and it's not TECHNICALLY fully true so of course tim argues back!

in the end tim is forced to take a hearing test and much to bruce's surprise he passes!!

and tim thinks that must be the end, bruce got his answers even if they weren't what he wanted.

...but tim does not consider just how INTENT bruce can be when he smells a mystery.

so bruce spies like he usually does, is surprised by just how much time time spends masturbating and the places he does it in (as well as his almost commendable efficiency?). and after hearing tim through a bug finish in his car and then exit to cross the street to enter a cofeeshop bruce...feels something when a driver loudly honks at tim but tim doesn't react at all.

he begins to suspect and then put it together until he gets his answer behind tim's mysterious deafness.

[andreas-river]

hey ohmygod you write for nikto!! can you do angst prompt #21 for him (maybe with a civilian reader)? i adore your work, can’t wait to see what you’re going to be writing next ♥️

Prompt: 21. "don't try to fix me, I'm not broken." with Nikto.

A/N: thanks for your words Anon, I really appreciate this! Hope you're going to like this one!

TW: angst, mentin of financial problems, hurt/comfort, Nikto is a human after all and no one can change my mind.

Want to make a request with other prompts?

════════════════════════════

This routine was new in so many ways—for both of you.

Nikto, the one you fell in love with, the one who would come back after the deployment, was everything you were looking for and more.

Nikto, the same man who was now digging holes in your soul with his eyes, the air around you tense. It became harder to breathe as you searched for the right words to say: you only remember saying something about a place that would help him feel better and relax, but it was like accidentally pushing a glass off the edge of a table, the crashing sound deafening your ears.

"It'll be like a vacation, but…" you try to explain again, only to get a sneer from him.

"A vacation?" he mocks your words, but you try your best to ignore the tone of his voice as you see his knuckles turn pale white. "I don't need it."

You are taken aback by his reaction, too speechless to reply. But he continues.

"I don't need it," he repeats again, "I don't want it. Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken. No, we're not."

You feel yourself breaking down at his words, too petrified to even take a step in his direction. Realizing that he was the one moving, leaving the room you were both in, you instinctively try to reach out and grab his arm, but he moves too quickly for your untrained eyes, grabbing your wrist and blocking any kind of physical contact from you.

His eyes widen for a second, but you don't even notice it through your watery eyes, only seeing his blurry form as he leaves the house, leaving you alone with your own tears.

Your legs give out as you drag yourself to the couch, salty tears running down your cheeks as you cry your heart out—was it so wrong to want to spend some time outside with a person you loved?

No, it wasn't, and you knew it. But also that Nikto was scattered with pieces of himself, sharp edges that could cut you every time you tried to get closer to him, felt like a deal with the devil—but devil was only everything that happened to him in his life.

You knew you couldn't bear it any longer, so you put on your shoes and left the house as well, the rain greeting you outside with the cold air. The car you both shared was still parked in front of you, so you covered yourself with the hood of your sweatshirt, hoping to find him soon—he couldn't be that far away, right?

You couldn't have been more wrong.

Your clothes are soaked now, as tears mix with the rain, and surrounded by the light of street lamps, you feel lost for the first time in so long. The last time was just before you met him, thanks to a mutual friend—Nikodim, or as they call him on duty, Rodion—and it all started from that rainy night, when you almost lost everything, and now history was repeating itself.

You cried harder as the downpour grew louder, crushing against the asphalt as you shivered in your clothes that clung uncomfortably to your skin. You started to walk back to your house, thinking about taking the car instead: at least you would be able to cover more distance.

You let the rain soak you, your steps heavy as you felt a weight on your shoulders, and you couldn't stop yourself from crying when you remembered the only time you cried in front of him—but they were tears of joy when you got your first check from the job you wanted so badly, when you finally were financially stable enough to pay the rent and buy food without worrying about not having enough money.

Once you are in the hallway, you sprint to the door with the intention of changing before jumping in the car, your teeth chattering from the cold air as you shiver and try to untie your shoelaces, muttering a string of curses when you realize they are too tangled.

A cry leaves your lips again, the desperation getting the better of you, powerless as you fall back to the floor, your eyes too unfocused to see clearly that someone is kneeling in front of you, until something soft touches your face, drying your skin. You finally manage to see him, your heart jumping in your throat as you recognize the familiar blue eyes, a little more bloodshot than usual—was he crying, too?

You reach for him, and even as water drops gather around you, he opens his arms, sobbing against his chest, feeling the dampness of his clothes—or maybe you were the one soaking him.

Too exhausted to do or say anything, you grab a handful of his sweatshirt as he picks you up from the floor, carries you to the bathroom, and removes your clothes. Neither of you say a word as you let him change you and dry your bare skin, still shivering uncontrollably from being out in the cold in the rain for so long.

It takes him a few minutes to dry you completely when your tears finally stop and you can clearly see the man in front of you. He has a frown in his eyes, the rest of his face is covered by a plain balaclava, the black paint he used to wear is now gone, revealing the natural color of his skin.

Even with one hand on his sweatshirt, he managed to put on at least a large size shirt and a clean pair of panties without breaking the physical contact, dragging you into the bedroom as he turned off all the lights, the storms still raging outside being the only thing you could hear.

Nikto seems to understand, because he lies on his side, holding your body as you drift off to sleep. It took him some time to fall asleep, his own actions and words weighing on him more than he could have expected. He had to walk away the moment he saw the fear in your eyes when he grabbed your wrist and when his own words broke your heart, seeing it clearly through your eyes.

He was aware that the storm would eventually pass, that tomorrow you would let him sit in front of you and talk to you, holding your heart in your hands as you healed his own without even realizing it. For now, he would accept your steady breathing as a lullaby, and eventually fall asleep holding you in his arms.

And tomorrow, he will ask you about the place you wanted to take him to, so he can see you smile.

[mikaelsonstanaccount]

Klonnie Weekend Day 1 Sweet: First Kiss

Klaus stood nervously outside her door, holding the flowers in his hands. Even though he’s been alive for a millennia, a first date with Bonnie made him feel like a human. He saw her walk open the door and it was as if time stood still. She looked almost unreal. Like his own personal goddess. He wanted to relive this moment over and over again just so he could perfectly paint it. He finally came back to Earth and looked at her, seeing her lips moving. “You okay Klaus? You’re just staring.” Bonnie giggled as she looked at him. He simply nodded, smiling at her.

“Perfectly fine my love, just enjoying the view.” He smiled as he slowly drank her in. He smiled as he grabbed her hand and gently spun her around. He wanted a full look of her body, enjoying how the dress clung to her. “Pink is your color love. You put anyone who’s ever worn it ever to shame. You are the owner of the color pink.” He started, watching  her cheeks flush. He smiled, leaning in and kissing her cheek before leading her out to the car. He had an entire night planned for her. He wanted her to feel like the queen she is.

As he drove towards our first destination he could see her deep in thought. “What’s on your mind my love?” He asked, reaching over to hold her hand. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you choose a morning date?” She asked before he smiled. “Well it’s a lot involved in our date. A lot of moving parts.” He teased as he pulled up outside of an airport. “Klaus…I’m a little dressed up for an airport.” She said as he shook his head. “Well you’re not too dressed up for where we are going.” He added, getting out and opened her door. He grabbed a small bag that he packed with a pair of comfy shoes for her and put it on his shoulder. He then opened the door for her and led her out to our private jet. “Mikaelson?” She questioned as he smiled.

“Eh, Bex bought it a while ago. I decided to take advantage of the usage for it.” He chuckled, greeting the staff for the flight. Once he led her on board, he smiled as they had a small, intimate breakfast set up for them. She looked around before noticing the breakfast and smiling. “Klaus, this is so sweet. Is this one of the moving parts?” She asked as he nodded. “I also packed you a pair of shoes to change into if the heels become too cumbersome.” He said, setting the shoes on a couch beside them. He sat down across from her and buckled in his seat. 

Once the flight was steady the flight attendant came over and pulled the covers off of their meal. He poured himself a glass of blood while she poured Bonnie a glass of champagne. “Planning to get me drunk?” She smirked before he chuckled and shook his head. “No, just easing your nerves I guess.” He smiled, taking a sip of his drink and began to eat his food. He saw Bonnie dig in, enjoying the food as well. He couldn’t help but to watch her, enamored by the way her eyes lit up at certain tastes. The way she smiled and enjoyed the flavors of everything. He honestly felt lost in all that she was. 

As they landed, he hummed as she slept with her head on his shoulder. He gently lifted her head in an attempt to wake her up. He saw her stirring, kissing her temple. He sat on his knees in front of her. He switched out her heels for a pair of fuzzy slippers, wanting her to be comfortable. “You’re so sweet when you want to be Klaus.” She hummed as he chuckled and kissed her knee. He helped her up once they were cleared to leave and led her to the car he rented for the weekend. “Where are we Nik?” She asked as she looked around. “Milan, Italy.” He hummed as he opened the door for her. He saw her eyes widen as she began to protest but he stopped her. “Nope, I don’t want to hear any objections. Think of this as a late birthday gift.” He smiled as she shook her head.

“My birthday was 3 months ago Klaus…and you got me a gift.” She said, the confusion evident in her voice at the end. “I didn’t get what I wanted you to get. This is what I wanted to get you.” He hummed as the car purred to life. He picked a black Ferrari for this occasion. “Okay fine, what am I supposed to do for clothes?” She asked as he smiled and gently patted her thigh. “I have that handled my love, you don’t fret. We will head to the hotel and then we will head out on the town.” He replied, looking over at her as we rode down the road. He pulled up at the Palazzo Cordusio Gran Meliá, smiling as he drove over to the valet. He handed him the keys and opened the door for her. Once she stepped out he got in to park the car. 

He walked inside and smiled as he greeted the same receptionist he always saw. She was a middle aged woman who would stay on the lookout for the best suite to stay in for the week. “Presidential Suite.” She said as she handed the key to him and bowed a bit. He thanked her before leading his sweet witch to the elevator. “She knows you?” She asked as he smiled and nodded. “Old family friend, anytime I call she always helps with getting a suite for the family. That and the other amenities the hotel has to offer, such as the spa.” He responded, looking over at her. “Wow, must be nice.” She giggled as he shook my head. “It helps when you are centuries old.” He hummed, opening the door to the suite. 

He handed her the pamphlet that showed the various amenities and excursions the hotel had to offer as he sat on the couch. “So is this all you had planned? To whisk me away and sit in a hotel?” She asked before he smiled and chuckled. “No, next up is a shopping spree and then dinner.” He boasted before looking up at her. “Shopping spree? Klaus-” She started before he cut her off. “Nope, I told you the plan is to do what I wanted to do for your birthday.” He said, cutting her off. “I want to spoil you, it’s how I show love.” He added before kissing her cheek. “Then let’s go shopping I guess, what's my limit?” She asked before he let out a laugh. “Limit?” He asked, almost unfamiliar with the term. “There’s no limit my love, whatever your heart desires is yours.” He hummed before grabbing her hand and leading her out of the hotel again.

After their shopping trip he took her back to the hotel to drop their clothes off and to change. He smiled when he looked at the dress Bonnie picked out. It was a yellow dress that hugged every part of her curves. He walked over and wrapped his arms around her hips and took her all in. “Let me guess, yellow is my color too?” She teased as he looked away with a smile. “It seems as if every color to exist is yours.” He hummed before leading her out of the hotel room again. He got the car and opened the door for her. He drove to Seta, a place Elijah recommended for their Coscia di pollo. He raved about the flavors and mentioned how well it paired with their chardonnay. 

“Seta? Sounds fancy.” Bonnie smiled as he led her inside. He gave the hostess his name before following her off to a secluded table that had a view of the city. “Wow” Bonnie whispered as she took in the view of everything, “Milan is truly gorgeous.” She smiled as Klaus hummed in agreement. He pulled the chair out for her to sit before gently pushing it in and then sitting down on the other side of her. He smiled as she looked around and took in the atmosphere. “How did you even find this place? Let me guess, family friend?” She teased before Klaus let out a chuckle. “No, my brother suggested here. He said the chicken was the best he’s ever had in Italy.” He smiled before reaching across the table to hold her hand.

After the date was over Klaus walked beside her on the streets, opting to enjoy the city a bit more before fully heading inside for the night. He had an arm around her waist as they turned and saw the hotel in view again. “This walk was really nice. I got to talk to you without you feeling the need to threaten my friend.” Bonnie smiled before Klaus shook his head and chuckled. “Well your friends are…a piece of work to put it nicely.” He hummed before leading her back to the hotel room. Once inside he watched her kick her shoes off and he smiled at how short she was. He wrapped his arms around her waist again and pulled her close. He kept looking between her eyes and lips as she talked about the pros and cons of her friend group. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her lips, cutting off her sentence. He smiled into the kiss when she practically melted in his arms and held onto the front of his suit jacket. He pulled away from the kiss and smiled, seeing the almost dazed look in her eyes.

[sergeantsporks]

Vee getting into Cosmic Frontiers while everyone else is in the demon realm so she’ll have something to talk with her mom and brother about when they get back!!!

“Okay, okay, okay. Camila is officially on vacation, and Luz has been excused from school absences for the same, the car has been towed and returned, and no one is the wiser.” Vee chewed on the tip of her pen. “What else? I guess I could do something around the house? It would probably be a nice surprise for Camila to come home to a nice clean house.”

Vee gathered up stray Halloween bits and bobs, tucking them back into their box. Extra teeth, old trick or treat buckets—anything pumpkin shaped went into the bin. Vee tugged at her own sweater. Well. Maybe not everything pumpkin shaped.

She shoved the box to the basement steps, then thumped up the stairs to Luz’s room. She surveyed the cots and sleeping bags, and the miscellaneous clothes strewn about.

What if things go badly?

What if they come back still needing a place to stay?

No. She couldn’t think like that. They’d succeed. And maybe they’d come back for a sleepover, but for now… Vee rolled up the sleeping bags and collapsed the cots. Best case scenario planning. She scooped up the clothes, dumping them in a hamper and piling the sleeping bags on top. She grabbed the hamper under one arm, the cots under the other, and went right back down the stairs. First, to the laundry room, to separate the clothes she’d gathered. She’d have to check the basement before she put on a wash, though.

Vee rolled the sleeping bags down the basement steps, then carried the box of Halloween stuff, then another trip for the cots and the hamper. The blankets from the couch went into the hamper. So did the T-shirts that someone—okay, who was she kidding, that Hunter had neatly folded and stacked to the side of the couch.

Vee knelt down to roll up Hunter’s sleeping bag, but stopped just before she started to fold it.

Where was Hunter going to go? Maybe he’d stay with Gus, but he didn’t have a home anymore. Maybe he’d come back. In which case, maybe he should get a cot, instead of sleeping on the floor all of the time. That couldn’t be good for his back.

Vee snapped the cot out to its full size, lifting Hunter’s sleeping bag up. Something tumbled out of it, landing on her foot with a solid thump.

“OW!” Vee jumped up and down on one foot, holding the other. “What the—” she tossed the sleeping bag to the cot and picked up the thing that had fallen on her foot. A book. The same book Hunter had been toting around, Cosmic Frontier.

“Huh.”

Come to think of it, they had said they’d found it down here. And Camila had acted awfully cagey about it. Vee opened the door to the closet within the basement—what a weird concept—and a fake gun, tricked out with lights and whistled, tumbled out. Vee picked it up, turning it over.

Property of Star Captain Camila Noceda read the handle.

“Huh.”

Vee rummaged through the closet, digging through comic books, posters, and a photo album filled with pictures of Camila in full costume and posing with other cosplayers. Some of them were signed by names Camila didn’t recognize, and one, which had its own whole page and was framed with golden foil, was signed with the same name as the author of the book.

“Wow,” Vee mused out loud, “She was really into this. So were Hunter and Gus. Maybe it really is just that good?”

Vee retreated back to the couch, opening the book to the first page. “I supposed I could see what all the fuss is about.”

Star Date… I don’t know anymore. According to O’Bailey, the wormhole we were caught in may have moved us through time as well as space. It could be that we have lost everyone we loved, and that the universe as we know it has changed irreversibly. Our homes might not even exist anymore. Still, I have to believe there’s a way back.

My last weekly report was before the wormhole. I don’t know if these logs will be read by command anymore, or if our whole system is now obsolete, but still, as the captain, I must record what happened. So. One week ago…

Vee mouthed along to the words as she read. She already knew from Hunter that O’Bailey was a clone from an enemy planet—relatable—but she’d underestimated just how many character dynamics and plotlines this book had. Every character introduced had their own backstories and their own difficulties, all of them weaving together to form one complex web of narratives. Even things she thought were a one-off came back later, or were somehow important.

Vee thumped back up the stairs, grabbing sticky notes and a pen. She started writing notes; characters, things that came back, noting foreshadowing, and misleads. The book started to fill up with little yellow tabs.

“Yeah, okay,” she told Hunter’s empty cot, “I’ll give you this one. For a book written in the nineties, it’s surprisingly relevant. Maybe Luz and Amity were right, too, and I should read Azura.”

Vee rummaged around in Luz’s room until she found a blank sketchbook and a set of colored pencils.

We forever love and protect our crew, she wrote, carefully spacing out each letter and imitating the script on the cover of the book, Whoever and whatever we are, we will always be family. Through supernovas, and solar flares, this we always swear.

“Through anything,” Vee whispered. She folded up the paper and tucked it into the front cover of the photo album. She padded softly down the hallway, her footsteps turning to a slither halfway down. She pushed open Camila’s door with a creak, setting the album down on the nightstand. “Whoever and whatever we are.”

Vee tidied up Camila’s books, gathering them into one neat stack. “Stay safe,” she whispered to the air, “Come back home soon. All of you.”

[goat-shoe]

Maybe Tomorrow

FlutterBee: Civilian x On Patrol. 610 words. 🌠 𝓓𝓮𝓭𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓢𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵𝓪 🌠

The sun is setting, turning pinks and yellows in the blocky slivers of horizon visible through the towering buildings that make up her slice of the city. There's a cool breeze blowing past her cheek, dragging dried, crunchy leaves across the pavement. Cars pass by, easy, without the rush of daytime. She can hear a distant echo of street musicians, and they aren't bad. Maybe it's just the day she had, but- for a moment- she considers tracking them down and staying a while to listen.

She really should go home, though, and she will. Two cats await in her apartment, and the poor things must be starving.

A flier flutters against the phone poll it's been stapled to.

THE OFFICIAL HONEYBEE HOTLINE, OPEN 8PM TO 12AM WEEKDAYS.

The fluttering edge of the paper catches her eye, and then the bumblebees that border the page. It makes her smile, even before she really knows what she's looking at. 

Stopping, Florence takes the flier in her hand, and skims it.

Is this... real?

She giggles at the idea. That Honeybee runs a hotline- that Honeybee runs around to put up fliers advertising her hotline!

Florence tears off one of the little paper tab thingies with the phone number on it, from the bottom of the page. Her nails are dull, digging against the paper, tearing it unevenly. She sticks it in her pocket.

– – –

With the cats fed, Florence curls up on the couch. She's changed into her pajamas for the night, pulled her hair into a messy bun, and she puts on Gilmore Girls, for peaceful and kind background noise. 

There, in her soft sweatpants, with her long, fluffy blue hair, Florence looks down at the number she pulled off the flier earlier.

.... She smiles, giddy. Because if she really needed Honeybee, she could use the miraculous communicators. But... no, that's not what she wants right now.

She glances at the clock on the wall. 8:04 PM. Honeybee should just be starting to take calls, right? Florence tugs out her phone- an Android user- and dials the number.

Her heart flutters in her chest. She lifts it to her ear. Her neck warms with the blood rushing to her cheeks, butterflies filling her stomach. She waits.

"You've reached the Honeybee hotline! Please hold!"

Florence giggles, just to herself, alone in her living room. "Anything for you, Honeybee," she teases nobody.

"...Oh! Well, in that case-" 

Florence's eyes widen, and she just barely fights the urge to chuck her phone across the room. 

"What can I do for you tonight, civilian?" 

Honeybee's voice... is like sunshine passing through honey. Smooth, sweet, but bright, beautiful. Not to mention playful. The teasing lull in her voice makes Florence's heart tumble around her chest, making her face flush darker. 

Florence opens her mouth- simultaneously, her hand flies to cover her mouth.

"... Civilian? Civilian, is this an emergency? You-" 

"No! No," Florence blurts, hand falling to grip at the couch. Her heart is doing funny things in her chest- completely new things in her chest. "I- I'm just a f-f- a fan!"

Honeybee laughs. 

And Florence can't even pretend she's bothered that Honeybee's laughing at her. Because Honeybee's laughing at her. She covers her mouth with her hand again, hiding a delirious smile. Oh, to be made a complete fool for Honeybee. 

Florence opens her mouth again, but- but no words come out. She stumbles, stutters- and then in a sudden sapphic panic, she hangs up.

Her phone is lost to the couch cushions, and her face meets the warm embrace of a pillow. 

Maybe tomorrow night she will think of what to say, first.

[the-pinstriped-hood]

The Talk

(Ava is @slaasherslut not my OC)

Percy Jones had no drive to write today. Her hands were sore and staring at her computer just made her sad she had made enough progress for the week. Why not take a day off? The sky outside was bleak and cloudy, Bo still had gone to the garage. She needed a change in clothing to take the edge off and hauled herself up to change. Her walk in closet was filled with many things mostly because she shared it with her boyfriend. Digging through his pajamas she came across a large pair of grey sweatpants with tie string. She climbed out of her heels, out of her skirt and stockings and into those pants. Looking in the mirror she knew she needed to coordinate and decided to raid Bo's clothing, finding a worn ACDC shirt and a ratty black jacket. She even tossed off her bra for good measure and let down her hair. She couldn't help herself and teased her hair with her hands a little. She looked like a college bum. Good. Take a day off from looking nice too.

Someone knocked at the door and Percy looked over. "Door's open!"

Ava poked her head inside. "You texted?"

"Sure did." The Novelist got off the couch and her sister feigned a gasp at her clothing choices. "Percy Jones? Did you lose your job? Did hell freeze over miss prissy pants?"

Percy laughed. "Charming as usual, Bunny. No, I did NOT lose my job. It is my day off and I don't wanna dress nice so sue me." She ended with playfully sticking out her tongue. Both of them laughed.

The pair went to the kitchen as Percy prepared her sister her Americano. Ava leaned against the counter, watching her with deep interest. She had definitely used one of these before.

"How do you want yours sissy, hot or iced?"

" Iced please!"

"Little lady wants it iced.." she began grabbing the ice and the cute cups she bought for the espresso machine.

"You know I never get to use this for Bo? Him and Lester are what I refer to as coffee purists. Black coffee, straight no cream, no sugar, no shots."

Ava loved her baby but. "you mean Wrong."

"yes but we should respect their decision to be wrong. Thank god at least one Sinclair doesn't mind coffee. I should take some over for Vincent later. I kinda owe him for trashing him in Scrabble the other night."

The pair thought back to when the silent artist foolishly challenged a well read well versed Novelist to a game of Scrabble.

Bo was more than happy to see his younger brother lose after so many games lost to him. The girls laughed.

"Vinny was so pissed…."

"What word did you use to set him off?"

"Oxyphenbutazone. Fished me a cool 1,778 points if I remember correctly."

The coffee maker beeped and Percy set back to work again.

Macavity hopped up on the counter and Ava scratched his head. "There we are! One Iced Americano."

The girls retreated to the couch, leaving on a movie but barely paying attention, too busy chatting to eachother about random topics. "Third Cylinder in the Benatar isnt firing. I really need to have it looked at but I dont wanna leave the house."

"Can't you just text Bo?"

"Nope. Too lazy."

Ava was surprised at her Elder sisters demeanour. "You really are relaxed right now aren't you?" Looks q11q

"Mmhm."

Silence.

Percy sat forward. "You don't have a car, I've always found that strange."

"I don't really mind it, I like riding with Lester plenty."

"But if you could have your own car, what would it be?"

Ava's smile fell, a pregnant pause. "My dad before he passed, was working on one for me. A 1966 Plymouth Barracuda. Cherry Red…..my mom sold it."

Percy was shocked. "Sold it?!? What!!! Why????"

Ava explained what happened on that bleak day.

Percy held her younger sister as she retold her story, crying all over again.

"Nobody should have to go through what you went through." Percy wound her fingers though Ava's hair. "I don't understand why people have the capacity to hurt people out of envy or spite. I take it Lester told you about what happened to their Parents?"

The blonde nodded silently.

"I honestly don't blame the boys for doing it. They did what they thought they had to. All that abuse stacks up and it boils over into something violent."

More silence. "Why don't you stay the night? I'm sure Mia would be happy to have her Aunt stay over. I'm sure Lester would understand."

Ava nodded, wiping her tears. "I'd like that."

Tag: @rottent33th @kalid-raven @bluecoolr-main @probably-a-plant-thing @damien-mlm @angxlslasher @slasherscrybaby @texaschainsawslvt @allthingsblood @ajarofpickledtears

[rommahh]

Love On Tour…Actually

{Im sorry for how late this was. I went to the show Friday and honestly, it was the best day of my life. I had a little PCD which made me super unmotivated but I’m back. I love you all, R}

You woke up a little grumpy, you won’t lie. You didn’t like waking up alone especially on a show day. It made you uncomfortable to be left to your own devices without any structure or schedule. You understood that Harry was a busy man but it would’ve been nice to receive some text so you could plan your day accordingly.

Sitting on the couch in the lounge of your hotel room, you chowed down on leftover pasta while watching Netflix on your iPad. You had yet to receive a text from Harry even though you had texted him hours ago when you woke up. It was hard to tell if he was ignoring you out of anger or if he was simply just lost in track. Either way you felt dejected.

On the other hand, Harry hadn’t even noticed that he iced you. He was busy running around Nashville trying to get things ready for tonight’s show. He bought you a new dress and shoes, and got the ring fitted. It was hard to figure out your ring size but he end up measuring your finger when you were passed out asleep in bed last night. When you slept, you slept and he knew that would be the perfect time to measure your finger.

Harry was so busy that morning, that by the end of his errands he realized he didn’t even have time to go back to the hotel before rehearsals. He was sporting a small cough and his vocal chords felt overworked but that’s all apart of tour.

Pulling his phone out of his back pocket as he walked into the arena, he dialed your number quickly. He had people trying to talk to him but he paid them no mind.

“Oh? Would you look who’s here?” Harry’s head shot up to the sound of your voice. There you sat on his dressing room couch, arms crossed over one another as you glared at him. Your gaze burned through him and he could just tell he was in trouble.

“Hello lovie.” Harry rasped.

“Harry you sound like shit but here you are up and about running around. You should’ve slept in this morning.” Scolding as you stand up to walk in front of him. Harry could feel the anger radiate off of you but you hid it well. He melted into your hands that cupped his warm cheeks.

“I had a lot of errands to run and I didn’t want to wake you. Also it’s just a sore throat from singing and traveling- comes with being on tour.” He mumbles dropping his head into your neck. You caress the hairs on the back on his neck and massage the tense muscles.

“You’ve got to think about yourself more, Harry. You have a show to put on but you can’t put on your best show if you’re not at your best. I am not happy with you at all.” Even though your words were scolding him, you held him your arms in the most soothing way. That’s what Harry loved about you, you cared for him like no one else could (aside from his mom). You could tell him off with your harshest words but he’d always feel your love from miles away.

“You’re right love, sorry for not keeping in touch today.” You hum in acknowledgement. You both pulled away from each other when his driver walked in with Harry’s abundance of bags. “Thank you, sir.”

“What all did you buy?” You ask walking towards the bags. Harry’s arm shot out in front of you making you stop. You looked up at him in shock. “Fine be secretive.”

You huffed before making your way back to the couch. Harry rolled his eyes at you, making way to his shopping bags. Plucking the bag from Nordstrom he plopped it down on the table in front of you.

“I just didn’t want you snooping at some other stuff. I bought you this, for tonight.” He sat down beside you, thighs touching leaving no room between you two.

“Im not trying to be mean. Just a little peeved that you left this morning without telling me. You also have a cold and I wanna take care of you since you won’t do it.” A hand rubs his forehead luring his eyes shut.

“Sorry baby, I thank you for caring so much.” He whispers sleepily.

“Im always gonna care for my bubs.” Kissing him on the lips, your turn your attention to the bag. The small grey bag had light tissue paper covering the product within the bag. The tissue falls to the floor as you dig into the bag. A silky champagne dress, folded neatly to decrease wrinkles, sits in the bag. The dress was soft and you knew it was loose enough to give you the room to dance. Soft snores escaped the boy beside you- the exhaustion evident on his face.

You pull the dress out of the bag and walk over to where his outfit of the night hung. The dress was hung beside his to be steamed for later. Turning around, you smile at the sight of your curled up boyfriend. Your heart hurt knowing that in a few minutes he would have to go rehearse.

Harry sleepily went through rehearsals sitting in a chair the whole time. He knew his stage cues and performance, he only had one more thing to rehearse but it required for you to not be in the room. He gave one look to Jeff to signal him to get you out. Jeff made up some excuse saying that he needed help with some social media post for the show.

Before the show, there was a catered dinner from some local restaurant. Harry ate a light meal of fresh vegetables and a sweet iced tea which has grown on him having lived in the states for some years. You ate grilled chicken and fries enjoying the free food. The two of you ate alone in his dressing room- wanting a moment of piece before the crazy.

“How are you feeling?” You ask Harry. He shrugs, he was more nervous than anything but you wouldn’t understand why if he had told that to you. He felt floaty. Tonight would be a game changer, a step in a whole new direction. This is something he’s wanted to do for years now but it’s finally happening, and he’s scared.

"Im ok, a little tired but what else is new. I can't wait to sleep all night and cuddle with you." He grabs your hand from across the table. you squeeze it, frowning at his revelation.

"I don't like that you're so tired." You worry, his hand squeezes yours in reassurance.

“Im ok, it’s all apart if the job.” He looks down to your bare ring finger, thumb brushing over the empty spot. Your nails were done in your favorite way, some funky pattern you found from Pinterest all painted on short coffin nails.

“I love you Harry and I’m so proud of you. I know that these years put us both in a bad place mentally but I’m happy of where we are now.” Harry could almost tear up to your words. They settled into his mind, resonating. He was making the perfect decision and you solidified that ideal.

2014

Harry didn’t know how they did it. A show every night, a new state everyday, a new country every few months- he was burnt out. He was tired of shared tour buses and the lack of autonomy. Last nights LA show was amazing, the crowd was amazing, the energy was amazing- so why did he feel so horrid?

He walked around in The Grove, security guards walking in front and behind him. He wanted a peaceful day alone but here they were. Fans watched suspiciously trying to decipher if it was Harry or not. His hat and sunglasses were obviously not the disguise he thought they would be.

As the whispers got louder, his heart started to flurry more. Panic seeped into his veins as he looked for an escape. Bolting in the Barnes and Nobles- security guards close behind- Harry asked for the employees to close shop just for a moment. Harry only needed a moment to get a car near by to escape to. Feeling overwhelmed, Harry hid.

In between the historical fiction and romance aisle is where he sat. Head between his knees, trying to catch his breathe.

“Are you ok?” A voice asked from above him. His head whipped up in shock. Standing there was you, three books clutched between your arms. Adjusting your dress you dropped down to the floor in front of him.

“I-im fine, tired but fine.” He replied. He looked different than he did the night before, you thought. Last night, he was energetic and full of life and now, now you saw a boy whose exhaustion overpowered him.

“You here for any books?” You were just trying to change the subject, something you did with yourself when you had panic attacks.

“Oh no, I don’t-“ he stuttered shaking his head. You smiled at him before pulling a book from your stack. The fault In Our Stars, your new favorite.

“I love this book, one of my favorites. Heard a movie is coming out too so that’s fun.” You joke. Harry’s relaxed slightly, you nestled closer to him. Opening the book, you began reading, your gentle voice calming Harry.

At the start of chapter four, an interruption pulled you both away. Harry’s security guard told Harry that a car was waiting and the perimeter of the store was clear. Harry nodded telling the guard to give him five more minutes.

“I guess this is it.” You mumble closing your book. Harry nods but makes no move to leave. Something clicks in him as he looks at your face again.

“You were at the concert last night, meet and greet?” He muses.

“Yeah, One Direction is my favorite band. My friend bought our vip tickets for my birthday. Best night ever.” You say quietly, scared that he might think that you’re some obsessed fan.

“Oh, well I’m glad you enjoyed the show….so why didn’t you freak out today or- or expose where I was?”

“You’re a human being, just like me. You get nervous, frustrated, and sad just like me. You get panic attacks just like. Who am I to treat you differently?” Your words did so much for Harry. “Now don’t get me wrong, you’re my favorite in the band, but I don’t idolize you nor do I wish to be in your position cause I know it must be hard.”

“It is. Hard, I mean, really really hard. I love my job but I’m tired.” The silence you two shared burned a connection between you two. “This may be weird but could I have your number? I like talking to you and I wanna hear more of this book.”

Placing your hand made bookmark in the book, you closed in and gently placed it on Harry’s lap. “Have it. I have one at home and if you still want to talk about it- I’ll give you my number.”

Harry stills as the book sits in his lap. “I want to talk to you about the book.”

After exchanging numbers, Harry was urged by you to go. Walking side by side to the door, you were separated by his security.

“Harry, don’t let this keep hurting you. Find the joy and grasp on to it.”

You turned out to be his joy. Calls every night after shows and different books being read together, you both gravitated towards each other. Everyday was a new day to grow closer together. He invited you to more concerts, paying for every ticket because he just needed to be with you.

The show was going beautifully. Harry looked amazing in stage in all white and most fans were captivated by your outfit too. It worried you to see Harry so exhausted on stage but you knew he would stick it through like he always does. Proud was an understatement in your eyes. Harry made you more than proud.

You stood in the back of the watermelon pit at the end of the aisle where his stage stopped a few feet away. Jeff stood beside you like he normally did but he was acting suspicious. You two never stood on the side of Harry’s exit but this is where Jeff said you’d get the best view tonight.

Harry sang his final ‘we’ll be alright’ before doing his stage stroll and bows, but instead of finishing in the middle of the stage- he went down stage to the place he normally exits to at the end of the night. You watched in confusion, along with the crowd, as he walked down the steps to you. The crowd erupted in screams as the lights focused on where you were standing.

“What are you doing?” You asked with large eyes of shock. You felt your heart stop in your chest. The crowd getting louder by the moment. Harry walked closer to you, one hand digging into his pocket while his eyes focused on your face. You couldn’t place what was happening but you’re eyes welled with even more tears nonetheless. Jeff was to the side with a huge smile and his phone out to capture the moment.

“Y/N, my love, my light, the best thing that has happened to me,” he didn’t have his mic on so the crowd couldn’t hear him but you could hear him perfectly. As if you two were the only ones in the large arena, you could only see Harry. “From the moment I met you in the bookstore, I knew you were meant to be in my life. Somehow you took me from my darkest place and guided me to my lightest.

I know our lives have been hard but we’ve always found a way to be alright. I want that for the rest of my life. I want you to be by my side for the rest of my life, so will you please, my love, marry me?”

You gave him no time to answer as you yanked him up by his arm. You wept as you exclaimed loud yeses, yeses that could be heard by a few fans who screamed in excitement igniting the rest of the crowd to scream. Harry picked you up in his arms, throwing one arm out to wave at the crowd before bounding backstage.

“Oh my god Harry!” You exclaimed as he set you down. He only had a few minutes to talk so you kept it quick. You pulled his face down to your kissing his lips. This kiss pulled you both deeper into each other.

He pulled away making you whine. “I gotta go back but I promise you’ll get it all tonight. I can’t believe you said yes. I love you so much.”

Harry’s energy multiplied by 100 going back on stage. He even went as far as to explain what watermelon sugar was about. Remembering when the song was made, it made your legs clench together- a pulse overwhelming your lower regions.

Looking down at your hand, you could feel yourself tear up again at the ring he bought you. It fit perfectly in your hand, you remember him measuring your hand that night even though he thought you were asleep. The thought of your future made your heart swell. A future with new music, a wedding, a nice house, and babies made your heart swell. This was something you couldn’t wait for.

Harry found his joy in you but he never knew about the joy he was to your dark life.

[collecting-stories]

Midnight - JJ Maybank

Request: Hello, I would love to read something when reader gets shot and JJ is worried sick about her. Thank you!

A/N: Thank you for this insanely inspiring request...hopefully I did it justice.

Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The smoke from the bonfire dissipated as it rose, like clouds blending into the darkness of the night. You kept your eyes shut, so tight you could see colors behind your lids as you listened to the sound of Rafe and Barry tearing through the Chateau. If you looked to your right, you knew Sarah would be there, just as scared as you were. On your left side, a branch over, was JJ. He would probably be trying to save face, to look unafraid even though this all felt a little too real for any of you. Just moments earlier, minutes, really, you’d been sitting at the bonfire with JJ, his sweatshirt keeping you warm in the chill of the early autumn night, everyone shouting after Pope and Kiara as they took the HMS out.  

Having John B and Sarah back felt surreal. Like you could do anything you wanted to do. And somehow, even scrambling up the big tree in front of the Chateau while John B threw a bucket of water over the fire, you still truly thought that everything would be okay.  

You hadn’t even felt it at first, as Barry grabbed Rafe and he fired up into tree, you dropped flush against the limb, bark digging into your body. You saw a bullet hit the tree near JJ and all you could remember thinking was how relieved you were that he hadn’t been hit. You waited until you heard Barry and Rafe leave, speeding away from the Chateau, before you tried to move. And then you felt it, a burning in your shoulder worse than the time you’d broken your arm skateboarding. You tired to push yourself back up but your right arm gave out and you fell into the tree, cursing as you lost your balance and slipped, landing on the grass. 

Flat on your back, staring up at the leaves in the tree obscuring the stars and the blurry vision of JJ jumping out of the tree. Sarah reached you first, falling onto her knees beside you and pushing the old sweatshirt out of the way to try and see where the blood that was coating the fabric was coming from.  

“Holy shit!” Sarah shouted, “oh my god…oh my god! John B, she’s bleeding! I think she was shot!”

John B pulled Sarah away from you, covering her mouth with his hand, “be quiet. The last thing we need is for them to turn back around.” Trying to shut her up was in vain, all you could hear was the pounding of JJ’s boots on the ground and John B cursing when he was pushed out of the way as JJ crowded in to see you, “lemme see!” JJ said, dropping to his knees next to you. 

Having him there, so close to you, felt like it reignited something in you and you turned your head to the sound of his voice, obscured stars fading until all you saw in the dark was JJ kneeling over you. “JJ,” you reached your hand across your body to feel your shoulder and he pushed you away, shaking his head. 

“Don’t, I got it…it’s gonna be okay.” He promised, pressing his hand into the blood-soaked sweatshirt. “John B man, we gotta get her to a hospital.”  

“What is it?” You asked, words slurring, they felt heavy on your tongue...like you’d forgotten them. “What happened?”

“No, it’s okay,” JJ repeated. He wiped one of his hands on the front of his shirt before reaching your free hand and squeezing it, “it’s okay, we’re gonna get help.”

“We need to get outta here, if they heard us they might circle back.” John B urged, his train of thought still on Rafe and Barry. He tried to grab Sarah’s arm as she scrambled for the front door of the Chateau, “Sarah!”

“I’m getting the keys to her car, John B! JJ’s right, we need to take her to the hospital!” She called, tearing through the picked over living room. Rafe and Barry had done a number on the inside of the small house but she managed to spot your keys, the Kildare County High School lanyard sticking out amongst couch cushions. 

While she dug through the house, JJ stayed by your side, hand pressed over your shoulder, trying to apply pressure to the wound and stop the bleeding, staining red. John B opened up the back door of your jeep, pushing your backpack off the seat and grabbing a towel from the trunk to throw down. “JJ,” he turned back to his friend to find JJ practically shaking as he sat there, over you, “JJ, we need to get her in the back seat.” 

JJ nodded his head vigorously as he tried to stand up, stumbling back the first time and catching himself on the ground, bloodied hands sticking to grass and dirt. His whole body was shaking and you were lying there, half-conscious but too out of it to respond to anything, eyes flickering shut as JJ and John B lifted you. The movement jostled you and you screamed at the shock of it.  

“Shit! Careful John B!” JJ cursed, unable to do much else for you.

“I’m doing the best I can!” John B snapped.  

Everything felt like it was moving in autopilot for JJ, all his focus was on you and he was completely positive that if he stopped for even a second, he would collapse. Since his feet hit the ground beneath the tree every thought in his mind had been you.  

They were careful of your shoulder as they loaded you in, JJ climbing into the backseat of your jeep and guiding you to lay over his lap. You groaned again as he grabbed your arm, keeping you on your back when you tried to roll over. He leaned down, kissing your forehead and promising, quietly, that everything was going to be okay.  

“I got the keys!” Sarah shouted, holding them up as she ran to the car. “I got the keys!” 

The drive to the hospital felt like a blur. You weren’t even entirely sure that Sarah stopped at any of the stop signs that you knew you were on the road. JJ kept his hand on your shoulder the entire time, though somewhere along the way you stopped feeling it.  

You couldn’t remember it, and when you were finally lucid enough to remember anything at all no one mentioned it, but the minute you were pushed behind the doors, away from the waiting room, JJ lost it. He’d spent the whole ride shaking like a leaf and as they wheeled you away it was everything John B could do to keep his best friend in the waiting room. He had his arms around JJ’s shoulders and he almost lifted him off the ground trying to keep him away.  

“JJ! She’s gonna be okay.” Sarah said, grabbing at his arm as he pulled out of John B’s hold. As he broke away, JJ punched the wall by the door, shouting ‘fuck’ at the top of his lungs and alerting the desk nurse to the three of them. No one told you, later on, that JJ had punched the wall though you noticed his bandaged hand, and no one told you that two security guards had to escort him outside until he could cool down.  

John B stayed in the waiting room while Sarah followed JJ outside. The security guards left him at a bench and Sarah knelt down in front of him, putting a hand on his knee to try and calm him down, or ground him as much as possible. “Hey, the doctors are doing everything they can JJ and it’s going to be okay. They said that the bullet didn’t hit anything major.”  

“I can’t...” he breathed out, covering his face with his hands, “I don’t...what do I do if she isn’t?”

“She will be, Jay.” Sarah replied, “I think though...I think we should call Shoupe and tell him what happened.”

“Fucking Rafe man...it doesn’t even matter. Shoupe didn’t do shit about Gavin and he’s not doing anything about Peterkin...he’s not gonna give a fuck about this either.”  

“You don’t know that.”  

By the time you did wake up, Kiara and Pope had come back from the HMS, huddled in the corner of the waiting room with John B and Sarah, whispering with each other about what had happened and checking every few seconds that JJ, who was pacing back and forth, wearing out a rug near the nurses’ station. He was the first one back to see you when the nurse finally came out to tell them that you were awake. JJ was shaking worse than he had in the car. Kiara had found a clean shirt of his in the back of her SUV, the old one tossed in a trash can in the men’s bathroom when Pope suggested changing so he didn’t totally freak you out.  

And you, JJ felt like his heart was pounding up into his throat when he walked into the hospital room and saw you laying there in bed, hooked up to IVs and only half lucid because of the morphine that they were giving you. But you gave him that sleepy smile you did in the mornings when you slept over at John B’s with him and the shaking in his hands started to subside as he dragged a chair over and sat down next to you.  

“Hey,” you whispered, voice hoarse from being intubated during surgery.  

All the promises that he’d whispered in the car, that Sarah had supplied him with as they sat up and waited all night, they were true. You were awake and you’d be okay and he was gonna nail Rafe to the wall for this...but maybe for now he’d just sit with you and remember how to breath.  

“Hey.”

[katsukikitten]

Rapacious - rə-ˈpā-shəs- excessively grasping or covetous, living on prey,  ravenous

(A rapacious appetite only for you my doll)

Hello and welcome to my first formal collab with the lovely @lady-bakuhoe Our thirsty dms finally turned into a full blown collab where our writing melds into one. I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as we did writing it! (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

✧Triggers and Warnings ✧

Pro Hero Dynamight, aged up AU, adult themes, such as intense sexual interaction, yandere behavior, mind break (?), branding, and dub con. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable please do not read any further. Thank you.

The snow comes down heavily, beautifully as it sticks and clings to anything it can. Blanketing the outside world in an unsullied shimmer bringing a smile to your face as you watch the sun dip low over the horizon. The light painting the world in stunning reds and pinks as it filters in through your bay window that faces the street. A small shiver runs through your spine as you wait impatiently for your warm tea, convincing yourself that the chill has nothing to do with your outfit. An oversized Red Riot t-shirt, a pair of black dolphin shorts and black thigh high socks, it was comfortable and you felt cute. Even if it was just for yourself, besides what else would one wear to their solo Netflix binging? Surely not pants. 

A rapid knock comes at the door. Harsh, precise as you jump out of your skin, nearly dropping your mug. 

Lifting your cell phone to check the time, wondering who could be knocking at this hour, it was far too late for any visitors and it surely wasn't the post. The icy snow ensured that most people would be snuggled into their couches with a warm cup of tea, tucked away from the harsh weather. Much like you were trying to do, maybe if you ignored it the unsuspecting visitor would move on. 

But another sharp knock echoes around your living room, urging your feet to move. You pad through your small townhouse, trying to get a glimpse through the window only for the unwanted guest to be standing just out of view. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the thick oak door, debating on whether to open it or not as another knock sounded from the other side. Curiosity with a hint of fear compels your fingers as you click your door onto the chain latch. Opening it slightly, looking out between the crack in the door to see who it was.

“H-hi.” Your eyes caught sight of the man outside your house, pupils widening in surprise at the sight of him. Messy ash blond spikes on top of his head as his hair faded to a low buzz cut at the sides, “Dynamight?” 

The man's scowl morphed into a smirk at your recognition, obviously proud that you knew who he was, his vermilion eyes glistening in the light gleaming from your house as you moved to take the door off the security latch, opening it fully so you could see him properly. His gaze immediately drank you in, glancing at the thigh high socks that hugged your thighs as he made his way up to the hem of your shirt, cherishing the exposed skin of your upper thighs until he noticed the shirt you were wearing. His nostrils flaring slightly at the sight of his best friend's face across your chest. It should be his. 

“My car broke down.” He motioned to the car that now sat motionless at the end of your drive, fresh snow already falling and covering its windscreen, “Can I come inside?” 

"Oh, um…" You're hesitant, technically you didn't know Dynamight but he was a pro hero. That meant he could be trusted right? Snow sticks to his blonde strands and shoulders. His hands and nose were a little red making it seem as if he had been in the cold a touch too long. Swallowing your fear you take a step back from the door, arm gesturing for him to come in. Silently elated he steps in as if he owns the place. What were the odds he would end up at your doorstep? 

"Um, can I offer you some coffee? Coco? Tea?" Your voice sounds small, stupid. Nervousness prickles over your skin as he sinks into your couch. 

"Tea is fine." His voice is silky and foreign in your warm home. He watches you with sharp eyes as you reach for a mug. Your short shorts ride up just a bit as your shirt gives him a tease of your back. 

Meanwhile you're buzzing from head to toe, THE one and ONLY Dynamight, the man you'd been dreaming of since his debut, the only face and voice that you ever imagined when your hands ventured into your soaked panties, was here. In your home, sitting on your couch and oh Gods...Which blanket did you have out? Was it his that you sprayed with his line of cologne so you would feel less lonely in your apartment? 

The kettle howls pulling you violently back to the task at hand. Should you ask him how he'd like his tea? You already know how he likes it, having read it in a magazine once committing it to memory in case you ever met him. But would that come off too strong? You settle on making it perfectly  in hopes it would paint you in the light of a "great hostess."  You grab onto the cup and turn to face the ill tempered hero head on. 

He turns away in time, relaxed on your couch as you offer him his cup. He takes it from your hands, his cool fingers brushing against yours. He takes a sip, peering at you over the rim. His vermillion eyes cause your stomach to flip as you nervously twist the hem of your shirt. His eyes rake over you with a smirk before they land on your worrying hands and that damned Red Riot shirt. Suddenly you're hyper aware of your inappropriate outfit, tugging your shirt over your exposed skin. 

His large palm settles on your thigh, starling you. 

"The outfit isn't the problem. I just think you look much better in my shirt." He tugs at the hem, "Maybe you should take this one off." 

“W-what?” You stammered, your body instinctively shrinking away from his touch.

“There’s just something about the way my face looks stretched against those tits.” He smirked, taking a sip of the warm mug before slipping it into your coffee table.

“What do you mean?” Confusion evident in your tone. What was he talking about? Your Dynamight merchandise? How would he have any idea about how much of a fan you were of him, just how many of his shirts sat in your closet right now. 

“Don’t act all coy.” Bakugou continued, turning his body to face yours on the couch, a dark look in his vermillion eyes as his fingers danced higher up your exposed thigh, feeling a warmth begin to seep from his palm as his cool calloused fingertips dig into your skin, “You know exactly what you’re doing.” 

“I assure you, Dynamight.” Bakugou groaned at the way his hero name sounded spilling from your lips, “I don’t know what you’re talking about?”

“Every day you’re out there being a fuckin’ tease.” He growled, biting your lip as you felt his blunt fingernails digging into the plush of your thigh, “Prancing around in these short fuckin’ shorts and my shirts.” 

Wait, had he seen you wearing his merch before? Had he seen you in his clothes? How? You were certain he’d never seen the multiple selfies you’d take of yourself to upload onto social media, always too scared to tag your favourite Hero. Instead proclaiming your love for him shamelessly on your socials, gushing about how he was the perfect hero. Still, even if he was lurking on your accounts, he couldn't possibly remember someone as lowly as you. 

“You knew I was watching you, didn’t you?” He snarled, his other hand moving up to palm your breast through your shirt, the action catching you by surprise as you gasped, “You wanted me to see you acting like such a slut.”

“N-no, Dynamight. I wasn’t-” You stammer as you think back, trying to remember all of the times you thought you felt a weighted gaze on you. Only to look over your shoulder to find nothing before submerging yourself back into your mundane world.

"Wasn't what? You mean you weren't trying to show the whole neighborhood your ass when you bent over 'pulling weeds'?" His palm becomes uncomfortably hot as his voice dips lower, lips brushing your ear as you drown in his spiced caramel scent. 

"Maybe you heard about your new neighbor Pro Hero Red Riot, wanted to show off for him? Or maybe you're just a slut who loves the attention?" 

Your blood runs cold, icy despite his burning palm, you swallow thickly as he continues to recite your summer as if reading from a list. 

"You know exactly what you're doing don'tchya? So many men have changed their jogging route to include your street, even if it is well out of their way. They slow their pace in front of your house when you're outside. Bent over, head lost in your garden and your skin tight shorts show your plump lips, your thick thighs and that supple, soft ass. Tits almost falling out from your crop tops as you must refuse to wear a bra. But you're such a good girl, reminding everyone who you belong to when you wear those shorts with my name across the ass." 

He leans away from you to hold your gaze. A shiver runs up your spine, you had never posted those shorts. The fan made ones that say "Bakugou's" across the ass, fuck how did he-?

He reads the question across your face, a nasty smirk dances on his cruel lips as he takes delight in the fear that blows your pupils wide. 

"I've been watching you Princess." You feel your heart beating out of your chest at the realisation, “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

You didn’t.

“That’s why you put on such a show for me every time, isn’t it?” 

 You hadn’t noticed your favourite Pro-Hero had been watching you all this time. You were beyond excited when Red Riot had moved into the neighbourhood, wishing you’d catch a glimpse of him each time you left your house. Getting up early some mornings just to see the red head stretching for his morning run, his muscles taut across his thick frame. But not once had Bakugou been anywhere in sight. You were sure you'd remember the ash blonde standing next to your second favorite hero. 

“You do it on purpose.” Bakugou growled, his hand moving to your exposed waist, stroking against your naked skin as his fingers dipped underneath your top, “It turns you on doesn’t it? Everyone looking at your slutty little body.”

“No, please. It doesn’t- I’m not.” You tried to move away from him, but he already had your body trapped between the arm of the couch and his large, muscular frame. 

“All those eyes on you and you don’t give a fuck.” Bakugou’s large palm grasps your round breast, groaning when he feels your nipple pebbled underneath his touch, “You want everyone to see you.”

Before you have a moment to object, to tell him how wrong he is, his lips are already against yours in a sultry kiss. Your mind hazy as he immediately prods your lips with his tongue, desperate for entrance as he invades your mouth. You couldn’t believe what was happening, The Dynamight was inside your house. Your entire body burning as his heat engulfed you, this was something you’d dreamed about more than you could recollect. The amount of nights you’d touched yourself to the thought of his hands dancing across your body. Trying to imagine how it would feel to be completely ravaged by him, but now that he was here in the flesh you were nervous. The reality of the situation slowly consumes your body as your heart beats with more intensity. 

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” Bakugou rasps huskily as he tugs your shirt up and over your breasts, his vermilion eyes taking in the sight of your exposed chest to his prying eyes, “Even better than I imagined.”

You nervously tried to move your arms to your chest, trying to hide your body from his burning gaze, but his hand was quick to grab your wrist, tugging your arm away with a glare, “Don’t.”

You averted your eyes from his own, biting your bottom lip as he lowered his face to your chest. His tongue tentatively coming out to lap around your darkened areola, closing his lips around your hardened nipple as he began to suck on the tender skin. Your head falling onto the back of the couch as you let out a low whine, one of your hands coming up to brush through his buzzed undercut, stroking against the spiky hair as you arched your back into his touch. 

“You’ve no idea how long I’ve been thinking about this, sweetheart.” He murmured around your nipple, his warm breath fanning against your skin as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. An airy gasp leaving your parted lips at the sensation as you involuntarily arched your back into his touch, “Every fuckin’ time I saw you-”

Wait? Every time he saw you? How often did he seek out your address? How many times did his crimson eyes burn into your skin without your noticing? 

Your eyes dart to the large bay window, holding eye contact with yourself as you stare at your reflection. A pitiful and clear sight as the blonde's hands groped your exposed tits. If the pro hero was brazen enough to peer through your unobstructed window, just how many other eyes fall onto you? 

“When I saw you in my signed debut Dynamight shirt, I knew I had to have you.” His lips curving into a grin against your skin as his tongue lapped at your hardened nipple, rolling the other one between his thumb and forefinger, “There’s just something about the sight of you in my clothes.”

At the mention of your rare signed shirt your body goes rigid, numb. If he had seen you in the shirt you mostly kept tucked away for safekeeping, he had seen everything hadn't he? 

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Princess.” He released your nipple with a pop, palming your breast with a grin as he pressed his lips against your own, “Weren’t shy when you were putting on a show for everyone, were you?”

Your bottom lip trembled at the suggestion, worrying it between your teeth as you felt Bakugou lean forward to grab your wrist in a large hand, the scent of his quirk filling the air as you felt the heat radiating from his palm. Vermilion eyes glancing down at your half-lidded ones, a glazed expression over your features as you focused on his touch.

“Look at what you fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart.” Bakugou tightened his grip on your wrist, moving your hand towards his crotch. His cock bulging against his pants, desperate to be released as he lay your palm against him. Gasping at the sensation as your palm made contact with the fabric, feeling just how hard he was for you underneath the denim.

All the while his thoughts are consumed by you, your smell, the look of surprise on your face. The feel of your skin against his and the heat of your breath tickling his ear when he pins you to the couch. 

All of the things he'd been imagining for the last few months. Your small hand against his large, twitching cock. Even through the fabric your warmth is hypnotizing, drawing him in and captivating him with every inch of you.

Bakugou's problem is that he can be greedy, hungry for more. Wanting nothing but the best and much like his sun sign, once he had his eyes set on something nothing could overcome his stubborn ambition. Not even the small look of fear in your eyes but even he can see that it is fading, melding into desire. He watches your fingers flutter, teasingly trying to figure out just how big and girthy he really was. Your heart races as you stare into his clouded vermillion eyes. Blood running hot as your mouth salivates, imagining the same thing he is. 

How does it taste? 

You let out a soft whine, fingers prodding at the head earning you a borderline feral growl. 

"Quit being a fucking tease and take it out, Princess." He groans, you freeze at his bold request.

"B..but…" He crowds you as your protests die in your throat. His lips brushing against your ear as he breathes in your sweet shampoo. 

"But what Princess? Scared I'll fuck you stupid?" He nips at the shell of your ear, chuckling darkly when you shiver, "Or are you scared you'll get addicted to how I taste?" 

"T-taste?" 

"Aw look at you acting all fuckin shy?" He squeezes your thighs with a deadly grip, fingers creeping between them, "You weren't so shy last week sitting in this spot were you?" 

You freeze as you think back to last week, knowing exactly what you were doing, eyes glancing over his broad shoulder to see the snow coming down in sheets through the large bay windows. You thought you were high enough and far enough away from the road, there, there was no way he saw right? 

His fingers press against your clothed sex, rubbing rough circles unable to keep the deadly smirk off of his lips. 

"Your phone in one hand and your other right here. Or maybe," He moves the dark fabric to the side, sliding his fingers to your clit, "It was here." 

You bite back your moans as the rough pad of his fingers circle your clit, just barely grazing over it in an agonizing purposeful fashion. 

"What were you watching again? Amateur porn right? POV with the guy's face hidden but he was in a knock off Dynamight suit wasn't he?" He pulls back to watch your face, twisting with pleasure and horror, body arching towards his touch as your head swims. Cunt clenching as he dips closer to your core for slick. 

"And what did that slutty mouth say?" His smile is cocky, holding eye contact. Silence sits between the two of you as your eyes flutter. He pulls his hand away from your throbbing clit, squeezing against your pulse point.

"I asked a question, Kitten. Now answer it." His voice is dark. 

"Dy-Dynamight." You gasp out, he ruts his hips against your leg. 

"Again." His free hand slips back between your folds, fingers setting a rapid pace that already has you teetering on the edge already. 

"Dynamight!" 

"Again. Say my name again." His fingers work you over as the coil unexpectedly snaps in your stomach. 

"Katuskiiii." You gasp and whine, shamefully cumming all over his thick digits. He groans, shoving his fingers into your cunt to feel you grip onto him, he cannot wait to feel that pretty pussy molding to his aching cock. 

But he would wait, for now. 

"Good girl." He praises, pulling his fingers from your core, licking up them. Savoring your essence as you watch his eyes flutter paying you a high compliment. In quick motions he throws a pillow onto the solid hardwood floor, pulling the hair at the nape of your neck as he pulls you onto the plush cushion. His free hand undoing his belt with deft fingers before he pulls his pants and boxers down. His cock springs free, the head leaking precum as you lick your lips. 

"You're gonna keep being a good girl for me right, Princess?" He coos, dragging his cock across your lips, smearing his sweet and salty pre from cheek to cheek. 

"Fuck do you know how long I've been dreaming of your lips around my cock?" He groans, pulling your hair back to force eye contact. 

"How, how long?" Your question prompts that nasty smile as his crimson eyes gleam with cruelty and lust.

"Months." 

And with that he pulls your hair back hard enough that you cry out in pain. Bakugou takes the opportunity to shove his cock into your mouth. Bottoming out at the back of your throat causing you to gag, your spit eases the roughness of his slow harsh thrusts as your eyes water. 

Nothing could have prepared you for feeling Bakugou inside you for the first time, your wildest fantasies didn’t equate to this. The sheer size of his thick, bulging cock made it difficult for you to take him inside your mouth. The prominent veins that forked along the side dragging against your cheek as he eased you down on his length. Fingers stroking through your hair sweetly, a stark contrast to his previous movements. His husky voice cooing down at you, gentle praises that had you keening, desperate to hear more. The red, swollen tip prodding against the back of your throat as you gagged around him, a mixture of spit and pre dribbling down your chin as you tried to fit more of him inside your mouth hungrily. 

“So fuckin’ greedy.” Bakugou grunted, his fingers carding into your messy hair and tugging harshly against the root, pressing you further down his aching cock. Watching the way your cheeks hollowed around him as you tried to adjust to his size. The movement causing fresh tears to clump in your lashes as you tried desperately to breathe through your nose. His coarse blond pubic hairs tickling your skin as he held your head down on his cock. 

Struggling for oxygen as your tongue lashed against the underside of his length, the salty sweet taste of his cum mixed with the lack of oxygen making you light headed as you felt yourself falling deeper into him. Teeth grazing his sensitive skin as you tried to relax your throat, innocent eyes gazing up at him. The sight almost had him cumming on the spot, it was something he’d thought about for months, stroking himself raw to the thought of your lips wrapped around him. You felt gentle tremors flowing through your body as he finally allowed you a moment of respite, tugging you off his length roughly as you gasped for air.

“So pretty for me,” His warm palm stroked against your cheek, dipping his thumb between your parted lips as he felt you instinctively close your mouth around it. Your tongue swirling around the calloused pad of his thumb as you heard him groan above you, “Look at you.”

“How many times have you played with that slutty little pussy to the thought of me, hah?” Bakugou mused, his thumb slipping from your mouth as he pulled down your lower lip, watching the way your face followed after his hand to try and pull him back in.

“P-please.” You trembled, already feeling your clit throbbing painfully between your thighs, already feeling unsatiated as crimson eyes glared down at you.

“I bet you’ve never had anything this big inside you,” He wrapped his palm around his cock, smirking when he noticed your eyes hyper focused on him, “Have you?”

You shook your head nervously, even the toys you’d experimented before didn’t equate to his sheer size, “N-no, Dynamight.”

“I’m gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good, Princess.” Bakugou’s thoughts already flooding to how your tight little cunt would feel being split around his cock. Moulding it to his size so you’d never be satisfied with anything or anyone else. You were going to be his and his alone, and he’d do anything to ensure that happened, “Wanna feel that tight little pussy wrapped around my cock, yeah?”

His words sending more pleasurable jolts to your core, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he helped you to your feet, his large palms keeping against your hips as he dipped his fingers beneath the hem of your shorts. Sliding the material down your thighs with one rough tug, exposing your naked body to his prying eyes. The sight of you completely bare in front of him had his cock twitching almost painfully, you were even more perfect than he had imagined.

“C’mere, Princess.” He cooed gently, a stark contrast to his earlier actions. You keened as you slid onto his lap, feeling his thick cock pressed snugly between your folds as you placed your hands on his broad shoulders to steady yourself. Your fingertips digging into his shirt as you tried feebly to get him to take it off.

“So needy,” He smirked, leaning forward to tug his shirt up and over his head. His chiselled abs now on full display as you focused in on each sharp ridge. He was even more perfect in person, and you couldn’t quite believe that the Dynamight was now in front of you.

Bakugou’s large palms moved back to your hips, pressing you down against his cock as you felt the length stroke against your slit, involuntarily grinding down against him as you tried to give your clit some much needed stimulation. The action did not go unnoticed by Bakugou who smirked at your desperation, digging his fingertips into your skin as he began to circle your hips against his cock. 

“You’re soaking my cock and I haven’t even put it in yet,” He smirked as he felt your slick coating his length, watching in amusement as you continued to grind yourself against him, trying to give yourself some relief, “Bet you could get yourself off just like this, hah?”

“No,” You whined, “Please,”

“Please, what?” He coaxed, his fingers slipping between your bodies to tease your puffy clit, a harsh laugh leaving his lips when he felt the way your body jerked at his touch.

“Please,” You trailed off, suddenly feeling incredibly nervous and self-conscious that you were now very much naked in front of your favourite Pro-Hero.

“You don’t seem to want it enough, Princess.” Bakugou teased, moving you away from his cock as you groaned in displeasure. Your eyes looking down at his shaft that was now coated in a layer of your slick. Fresh pre spilling from the tip as you reached out to grab him between your fingers. Bakugou’s reflexes were quicker as he caught your wrist in his large palm, giving you a warning look as his nostrils flared. 

“So fuckin’ greedy.” He moved his hands back to grab your ass, kneading the round mounds as he moved you to hover over his cock, vermilion eyes gazing up at you as he waited for you to speak, “You want my cock?”

“Yeah-” You felt your head nodding before you’d even had a chance to think, desperate to feel him sliding inside your warmth, splitting you open as he buried himself deep inside you. 

“Yeah?” He mocked, tilting his head to the side as he pressed a kiss against your pebbled nipple, “Then fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Please, Dynamight.” You rolled your hips again, grinding against nothing as you tried to create some friction between your thighs, “Want your cock.”

A groan spilled from his lips at such blunt words leaving your pouty lips, calloused fingertips digging into your supple flesh as he pressed you down on the head of his cock. The tip stretching you out slightly as you tried to drop your hips down on him, wanting to feel him deep inside you.

“You want Dynamight to fuck this slutty pussy?” He pulled you away from his cock which caused a needy whine to spill from your lips, trying to angle your hips back towards his length.

Bakugou’s palm wrapping around his cock to drag the swollen, reddened tip along your sopping folds. Feeling your slick coat his skin as it mingled with his pre, watching the way your eyes fluttered at the sensation of his cockhead brushing against your clit.

“Yes.” You hissed, already anticipating the pleasurable stretch his girth would create inside you. The thick head already back at your tight entrance as he watched you shamelessly try and drop your hips down onto him. 

"Yes what?" His voice is dark with pleasure as he glares up at you, a pitiful mess. He's toying with you, as a cat does a mouse and you feel utterly embarrassed. This was Pro hero Dynamight damn it, you wanted to make a good impression. You wanted to be sexy, not some whiny bitch in heat. 

Little did you know how much Bakugou loved it, lived for it as he gently bounced you on just the tip. Driving you wild as you whined, all the while he smirked. 

"Please Katsuki-sama." Your nails rake down his forearms, "Please, please fuck me." 

"That's my good girl." He slams you down on his cock in one swift motion causing your vision to spot. He relishes the way you flutter around him, adjusting as a shiver runs up your spine. 

"Now fuck yourself on my cock, Princess." 

"But-" He wraps his hand around your throat, malice and lust dance in his eyes as his free hand travels to your thigh. Palm heating with each pound of your heart until it begins to become too much, too hot.

"Ride me like you did your fingers last week. You were thinking of me then weren't you, pervert?” You gasped at his crude words, the idea that he had been watching you while you dipped your fingers inside your tight cunt had embarrassment ebbing in your core. Your body trembling as the object of your affections degraded you, “Wishing it was me finger fuckin’ that pretty pussy, yeah?”

Unable to stop the shameless moan that left your parted lips, the sound restricted to a strangled gasp as he kept his palm wrapped tightly around your jugular. 

“Or were you thinking of Red Riot since you love wearing his merch so much, hah.” Bakugou goaded, you could feel his grip against you tightening as his palms heated up dangerously, “Wishing he’d come in and bend you over like the little slut you are.”

“N-no,” You tried to gasp out, feeling lightheaded from the lack of oxygen that flowed through your body.

Bakugou loosened his grip around your neck, keeping his palm against your skin as he leaned his head closer to yours, his warm breath fanning your face as vermilion eyes bored into your own, “What was that?”

“J-just you, Dynamight.” You rasped, a rush of air filling your lungs as your chest heaved against him, “Only for you-”

“Yeah?” His lips curled into a cocky grin, immediately tightening his grip around your throat once more, “That’s fuckin’ right, you should be thinking about me when you play with that sloppy pussy.”

He squeezes both your throat and thigh harder. You rock your hips, fucking yourself on his fat cock as you gasp for air, hands desperately holding onto toned arms for support as the coil in your stomach begins to snap. 

“Now I want you to fuckin' show me how much of a Dynamight fan you really are." He groans at the way you grip around him, tongue lulling past his smirk for just as second. 

If you had to try and describe this feeling it would be something akin to euphoria, a constant throb ebbing through your cunt at the dull stretch his cock caused around your core. His cock moulding you to his shape as he bounced you on his lap, the thick jutting veins along his girth dragging against your inner walls with each pronounced thrust. Desperate cries of pleasure spilling from your lips as he fucked himself into you, hungrily searching to pull more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips. You felt pearly tears begin to clump in your lashes as he fucked into your tight cunt with vigour, uncaring for giving you a moment of respite as he hungrily used you for his own pleasure. 

“Aw, you gonna cry, Princess?” He sneered, vermilion eyes gazing down at your own as he kept his pace, “I know you fuckin’ love it. I can feel you squeezing my cock.”

“Please-” You couldn’t think of the words, your mind foggy with the juxtaposition of pleasure and pain overwhelming you as he continued to fuck you with reckless abandon. 

“Don’t tell me I’ve already fucked you stupid, dumbass.” He grunted, the calloused pads of his fingers digging into the plush skin of your thighs, crude noising filling the air as you could hear just how wet you were for him, “That sloppy pussy is drooling all over my cock.”

"Who do you belong to?" His husky voice wraps around you like a vice, pulling your heart into your stomach. 

"You." You gasp as the heat of his palm on your leg begins to burn, skin warping beneath his touch. Hand glowing golden as if he were a God while his quirk begins to really activate. The smell of spiced caramel, smoke and scalded flesh cling to the couch and invade your senses as a crude whimper leaves your parted lips. The skin that he’d just burned throbbing under his touch, as heat surged through your body. His sharp thrusts helping to morph the pain you felt into a pure, unabashed pleasure as he watched you worry your bottom lip between your teeth.

"Good girl. Now everyone will know exactly who you belong to." Your eyes flicker away from his face before he uses his finger behind your jaw to meet his gaze, "Look at your King when you cum."

The combination of pleasure and pain paired with the thought of being his makes that delicate coil snap. Your body tenses and freezes as you shake atop his lap, biting nails drawing blood on his arms. He smirks, fucking up into you as another mind numbing orgasim washes over your body. Without withdrawing himself he flips the two of you against the couch. 

“Fuck, look at you.” Your back presses into the cushions as he towers over you. Gazing down and into your eyes as he slowly thrusts into you, switching hands to place one on your unburnt thigh, “So fuckin’ pretty.”

The telltale sounds of his quirk sound in the room as his hands crackle, heating his other palm, readying himself to repeat the action. To mark your body and claim you as his own, so if anyone dared to look at you they would know exactly who you belonged. Permanent hand prints marking you as his. No one else was allowed to have you, not that you had a choice, at least not anymore. 

Bakugou hissed as he felt your cunt continue to flutter around him in the aftershocks of your climax, snapping his hips as his pelvis hits against your puffy clit, head swimming from both pleasure and your primal need to breathe that was being wholly denied.

Bakugou was going to ruin you and you'd let him. 

"Who owns this pretty pussy?" Another possessive question that rockets you to the edge, body hoping for another mark, to make you symmetrical. 

Whole. 

"You." Another raspy breath but it's enough for Bakugou to hear. A silent moan tears from your throat as you try to keep your eyes locked with his. Pain blooming on your thigh with a delicious bite. 

 “What was that?” He snarled, pressing your thigh up against your chest as his arm slid underneath your knee, resting your calf over his shoulder as he changed the angle of his thrusts, his cock delving deeper between your folds as you felt the swollen tip bruising your cervix with each hard rut of his hips, “Say my name.”

“Dynamight.” You called out, already feeling your body throbbing in the telltale signs of another orgasm, your thighs quivering as you felt Bakugou fuck your body into the couch hard before using his grip on your thigh to drag you back into him. 

The crude sound of skin against skin vibrated around the room as his meaty balls slapped against the swell of your ass, Bakugou’s muscular frame dwarfing your own as he used you for his own pleasure. His own little cocksleeve that would succumb to his every request, you would be his and his alone to use as he pleased. 

“Again.” A low growl sounded from the back of his throat, a possessive undertone to it as he urged you on, “Say it again.”

“Dynamight.” You managed to whimper through sobs, tears trickling down your temples now and soaking into your messy hair. The sound of his name spilling from your lips made him readjust his thrusts with newfound intensity. 

“That’s fuckin’ right. Red Riot would never fuck you this good, hah?” He provoked, a clear sign of dominance over you, “You’re fuckin’ made for my cock.”

A cry slipping from your lips as he gave a particularly hard thrust inside your aching cunt, the tip of his length pounding against your cervix as he worked to claim your body as his own, trying to wipe thoughts of anyone else from your mind so all you could think about in this moment was his fat cock buried deep inside your tight heat.

“God, you’re fuckin’ perfect.” He grunted, his eyes mapping out your body as he worked himself against you, “Feel so good.”

Your breasts bounced with the intensity of his thrusts as he felt your inner walls quivering around his cock, already feeling another orgasm creeping up on you, the coil inside you impossibly tight as you tried to remember to breathe. Your vision hazy as you felt yourself becoming lightheaded, white dots blanking your vision as you shook beneath him.

“You gonna cum again already? Greedy fuckin’ bitch.” Bakugou’s lips curved into a grin as he felt your fingernails dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shapes in their wake as a dull ache tingled against his skin at the sensation, “My cock’s better than your fuckin’ fingers, yeah?”

“Yes,” You hissed, your toes curling as you felt yourself succumb to the pleasure. Your tight heat clenching around Bakugou’s cock as an usual sensation flowed through you, an intense throb in your core as you felt the unwavering urge to pee. Tightening your thighs around Bakugou’s firm body in an attempt to stop it from happening as wracked sobs left your body, your lower lip trembling as the sensation became too much. Too intense, too overwhelming as you allowed it to take over, your body crying out as you came. A clear stream of liquid gushing from between your thighs and soaking Bakugou’s crotch, his pace never once faltering as he fucked you through the sensation.

“Look at you, you messy fuckin’ slut” He howled in pleasure as he watched the liquid seep from your folds, “Look at your sloppy little pussy soakin’ my cock.”

“I’m sorry-” You cried out in embarrassment, feeling your heart pound in your chest as you saw his abdomen glistening with your release, “I didn’t mean-”

“What? You never fuckin’ squirted before?” Bakugou’s lips curled into a sly smile, his chest puffed out in pride, “Let’s see if you can do it again.”

Bakugou slipped a hand between your connected bodies to press four fingers against your clit, rubbing it frantically side to side as he tried to prolong the sensation, watching to see more of the clear liquid escape your heat. 

"I can make this pretty little cunt do what I want. Wanna know why?" He leans in with a deadly grin on his lips,  "Cause I own it." 

You cried out as you felt the sensation flowing through you once more, a dull ache in your lower body as more of the clear liquid gushed from your folds. The sight made Bakugou smirk with glee, his fingers relentless against your sensitive nub.

“Couldn’t help yourself, could you?” He goaded, feeling your body trying to shy away from him as you withered beneath him, the pleasure becoming overwhelming, “That fuckin’ desperate.”

“P-please,” You whimpered, your entire body felt unbearably hot. Unable to think coherently as Bakugou continued pounding his thick girth into your core, his warm breath fanning your face as he hovered above you.

“P-please,” He mocked, tilting his head as he glanced down at you, “Please, what?”

“‘S too much,” You stammered, your hand reaching down to wrap around his wrist, trying to tug his fingers away from their assault against your clit.

The movement made him growl, baring his teeth as his hand moved from your clit, reaching up to wrap around the curve of your neck instead as he instantly tightened his grip against your jugular. The action caused your eyes to widen in surprise before your soft whines turned into hungry pants as you tried to gasp for air. Bakugou’s consistent thrusts into your sloppy hole made it difficult to think straight, your body fully focused on the sight of him above you while his hand wrapped tightly around your neck. 

“Gonna fill that sloppy little pussy with cum, yeah?” You flushed at the suggestion, already feeling your inner walls fluttering around his cock at the thought, squeezing his girth as it created more friction as he dragged his cock along your velvety walls, his grip on your neck tightening as you felt your cunt clench around his cock in response, “You’re gonna look so pretty for me all full of my cum, Princess.”

A guttural groan spilled from his parted lips as you watched his eyes roll back, his thrusts stuttering as he came, bottoming out inside you as white hot spurts of cum splashed against your inner walls. His palms stroking along your exposed skin, sliding against the thin sheen of sweat that coated your body as he came down from his climax, humping a few more sloppy thrusts into your cunt as he cherished the sweet way your walls continued to flutter around him. 

You whined as Bakugou slowly eased his hips back, slipping his softening cock out of your quivering folds. His eyes immediately focused on your abused hole as he watched his cum begin to trickle out of you as it dribbled down towards your ass. Unable to resist reaching a finger out to collect the mixture, scooping it up as he slowly pushed it back inside you. Smirking at the way you tried to bat his hand away from your overstimulated folds, this only making him want to tease you more as he moved his finger to press against your inner walls. Swallowing thickly as he felt your body involuntarily clamping down around him in an attempt to pull him back inside you. 

“Such a good girl for me, Princess.” He moved his fingers up to stroke against your puffy clit, laughing at the way you arched your hips away from his touch, trying to stop him from teasing your satiated clit, “Took my cock so well.” 

You mewl in response, clutching your arms to yourself as you shake from the previous events. You looked so small and scared causing a sharp pain to bolt through Bakugou's chest. God he wanted you in his care even more now.

“You were even more perfect than I imagined.” He pulls you to him, trapping you in his embrace as he presses your face into his chest. Hand smoothing your damp hair as he hums lightly. His eyes catching sight of the Red Riot shirt he’d discarded to the floor, a thought occurred to him, one he cannot keep to himself, as another sadistic smile settled on his lips. 

“Kirishima told me not to come over here, said to leave you alone-” He pulls you back so you can look at him, and gods the look you're giving him. Eyes soft and submissive, hazed over in mind numbing pleasure as you float off somewhere far away. Only Bakugou's arms are keeping you bound to Earth. “But I was right wasn’t I, Princess?”

You'll never be able to escape his gravity now. 

“He just wanted you for himself.” His fingers feather over your body before he stands, guessing where the first aid could be. You clutch onto his shirt, eyes desperately glued to your new God as the fading sun washes him over in deep hues of red. The way you look at him makes his cock twitch, feeling the intense power he already holds over you. 

"You'll let your King go." A growl as his fingers find your throat, you nod with fresh tears catching on long lashes as he steps away. Sobbing from his absence before he returns. 

"Don't be a baby, I wasn't that far Princess." His voice all bite while his hands speak the truth. Calloused and scared fingers pressing ointment into the fresh burns tenderly. 

“But you’re mine now aren’t you Princess?” He dots over the burns, rubbing the salve in gently, “All mine.”

He leans away from you, cruelty ever plastered on his smirking lips. 

“Maybe I should show Red Riot what you look like right now, hah?” He pulls out his phone, going to snap a picture. You're hesitant at first but then move to strike a pose, wide eyes looking into the lens of the camera as Bakugou angles it to get the dark bruises and scars that now marr your perfect skin. "Fuck, I think showing him what a good girl you are in person would be much better." 

“W-we shouldn’t-“ You mumble, your heart hammering in your chest at the thought of your sweet neighbour seeing you like this, utterly debauched because of Pro-Hero Dynamight. 

“Don’t be shy, pretty girl.” He coos uncharacteristically, almost mocking you as he watches your lower lip tremble, “I’m sure Red Riot would love to see you like this. Probably jerks himself raw to the thought of you.”

He eases you to your feet, sliding your shorts over your thighs as you hiss when they get to the fresh brand. Your mouth waters from pain as you look down at them. His perfect palm prints etched into your skin forever. You bite your bottom lip, wanting more from Bakugou who slips his jacket over your shoulders before putting your snow boots onto your feet. He makes his way to the door.

"Comin' pervert?" He asks before you rush to your feet,  “Shall we show Red Riot what a desperate little slut his neighbour is?” 

He wraps his arm around your shoulders, engulfing you in his mesmerizing scent and heat. You nod slowly, wanting nothing more than to please your new caretaker. 

“Gotta remind that asshole who the fuck you belong to.”

[plush-rabbit]

Smile For Me

Warnings: Noncon, Somnophila

Word Count: 2.8K

A/N: I’ve really fallen for Ghostface and that seems unfair (Part 2 to Picture Perfect)

You’re easy prey. Nothing more than a simple deer, a lovely little rabbit that he gets to stalk and hunt. There’s something odd about you, something so sweet and incredibly cute that he wants to corrupt. You change your locks, you add a sensor light that must have made a pretty dent in your wallet. He can see how you move behind the blinds, your silhouette, the way you walk and how you hold something in your hands, and he runs the first few times, but after the third time, he decides to push his luck, linger close, hidden behind a shed in your backyard and minutes pass until he realizes that there are no sirens. You don’t call for help, your alarms are nothing more than for decoration, to ward off a lesser person. You trust that whatever was lurking outside, has fled. And he falls for you naivety more. He falls deeper in love with you, covering his mouth with a gloved hand, the faint bitter taste of copper still lingering as he bites down to avoid his laughter ringing throughout your backyard.

Ghostface stalks you. He watches and learns what security system you have and it’s almost laughable when he finds out that it is nothing. All you have to protect yourself are different locks. The lights were nothing more than that, sensor lights that can do nothing more than to catch a rodent that lurks in your backyard. The locks might be different, but you don’t have an alarm, there are no cameras inside your home to record that he wandered around- drank from the bottle of your cranberry juice, sat on your couch and kicked his feet up onto the coffee table, dried mud that crumbled and he stared at it, wondering if you would even notice, but with a swipe of the side of his palm, it falls and disappears into your carpet. You have no camera to watch as he grabs your underwear and jerks himself off in your bed, his mouth open behind his mask as he creams himself on your belongings, the memory of how you felt already fading in his mind. And once he’s done, he‘s left sticky and wet, creamy slipping down and it’s only a matter of time till you come home. He wonders how often you wash your pillowcases and he dries himself on your pillow, a soft thrusting motion that leaves his already sensitive cock dribbling with more seed, spreading it on your pillow. When he comes back to watch you, he sees through the blinds how you touch the pillow, your lips pouted and your fingers brushing against the hardened cotton. He wonders if you know.

You’ve captured his attention- enough for him to leave his other prey and focus solely on you. You fret around your home, clean and check every crevice, a pair of scissors in hand and he scoffs in amusement. He palms himself through his jeans. He wonders how you would really react if he were hiding inside your house. He can hide himself in your closest, jump out and wrestle you to the ground, watch as your eyes grow fearful and he’s salivating at the thought of entering you already, knowing how well you’d take him. With a soft sigh, he pulls his hand away. All he has to do now is wait for you to fall asleep.

Grateful for the night, he watches in silence. You walk around in your room, towel around your body, letting it fall off of your body and rest against the bed, your naked body alluring, the soft yellow light glistening off of your body, and you walk to your dresser, lotion against your body, spread thin, the creamy white disappearing onto your body. You sleep in a camisole, a lace trim around the straps, stitched onto the soft dip where your naked breasts lie, nipples already pert and peeking through the shirt. Your underwear are a soft blue, raising up your hips with a teasing dip to your sex. He doesn’t have to wait long until you’ve fallen into your slumber, body still and after a few minutes, he’s inside your home. 

It doesn’t take much to break-in. A simple twist and a careful step, and Ghostface is undetected, inside your home. The weeping mask stares down at you, a single twist of his fingers and your lamp is on, the glow of the light doing nothing but make you furrow your brows and with a simple shush, a coo under his breath that makes him feel like a dotting lover, you return to your relaxed state. It’s not much, but seeing you asleep- vulnerable and willing- is enough for him to kick off his boots. Clothes are slowly discarded, the pale, horrific mask still kept on, the soft cloth of the hood tickles at the base of his neck, and he’s above you. 

There isn’t much that makes him actually lust for others. He’s always been more fascinated in other areas of the human body, but there was and still is something about you that makes him yearn, to grab at you and mark your body. And one day, he’ll do it with your consent. He’ll come and greet you as Daniel- have you call him Danny- pull out the smile, pull you close and throw you on his bed, have you want him and there will be the sick pleasure of knowing that you’re fucking a killer and your personal tormentor without you knowing. But for now, he slips off your clothes, raises your thin shirt and he’s slow and methodical, pulling you into a sitting position and having you lean against his body, your gentle, warm breaths against his chest, your shirt is removed. He lays you back on the bed, hair fanning out into a halo, strands falling in front of your face and with a simple brush, the smooth fabric of his gloves cold against your skin. Your underwear is too delightful to tear off, simple and pure against your skin, something so sweet that it’s almost wrong of him to dip his fingers underneath and pull down your bare legs. 

Asleep and undisturbed, his hands are on you. For a brief moment, his mask is off, eyes that hold something fierce in them watch you, the low rise of your chest, goosebumps pricking at your skin and his smile is hungry. His face buried into your sex, tongue at your heat, his spit warming you and moistening past your folds. The tip of his tongue swirls around your entrance, a gentle dip into you, and in your sleep you clench your walls, a soft squish against his muscle and he smiles against you, wide and teeth pressed against your soft flesh. He presses his face forward, nose pressed against your clit, lips puckered and he kisses you, a soft, sensual kiss against your cunt, tongue slipping past his lips, and into yours, flickering inside and on the tip of his tongue, he can taste your sweet nectar, oozing in a thick puddle against him. 

The mask returns, hiding his identity and in it’s in place, the gloves are removed. There’s a sound outside, a racing car that screams through the night and in his chest, his heart races and his body flushes, his face heating up, sweat beading on his forehead and two bare fingers enter you. You’re slick enough to enter but he can feel the tight grasp of your sex, something that he’s sure stings by the way you shift under him. His fingers curl in, a beckoning motion inside of you, fingertips brushing against your walls, slick slowly starting to form until the clicking noises in the room intermix with your breathy, soft moans- a cry that whimpers past your lips. He grows hard above you, watching your breaths deepen, the wet, shucking noises of your cunt grow louder, fingers slipping in and out, your arousal dribbling past his fingers and down to his knuckles. It’s awkward, fingers pushed deep inside of you, his knuckles kissing at your cunt as a strong hand reaches to grab his camera, holding tight onto it, his fingerprints dirtying the screen and it’s shaky, a horrible picture when compared to his previous works. He forces himself to still, fingers half way inside of you, limp and still compared to your throbbing, wet cunt that still leaks and there’s a click. On the screen is a captivating photo of your cunt teased with his fingers. And as always, Ghostface isn’t satisfied. 

Metal clicks against each other, a soft chime in the room that acts as a lullaby, pulling you back into sleep, your body relaxing, breath going back to its own undisturbed tempo and all that remains is a wide-eyed man staring at you through a mask. Dark eyes are unwavering as they stare at your sleeping body- you look so peaceful, so rested and deep in slumber that he’s sure you must have had a heavy day and he feels almost sad at that thought. Bare hands grab at your breasts, thumbs pushing around the pert nipples- he’s almost sad that you had to grow through something so heavy without him- his hands lower to rise against the swell of your belly- he promises to himself that you won’t face it alone next time- one hand holds onto your hip, the other against the base of his cock, pre-ejaculate beading off his slit in opalescent pearls. 

He lowers himself to you, the plastic of his mask brushing against the shell of your ear and he’s hopeful that you’re listening to him. “No one is allowed to touch you, you know? I’ll make sure of that.” His cockhead is pressed flushed against your entrance, arousal mixing and getting lost with each other. Nails dig into your hip, perfectly formed crescents appear on your body, the hint of blood is familiar to him and makes him almost inhumane. His laugh is sharp, unforgiving and cruel, as he presses himself further into you, the welcoming hug of your walls wrapping tight around him and he releases his hands from your hip and himself. “My fucking muse,” he whispers harshly, stilling himself inside of you, your walls pulsing against him, a gentle pull deeper into you. “My naïve-” his hand covers the swell of your belly- “dumb little muse.” He wonders if you’re late. He wonders what you have done to either rid yourself of his kin or to prevent yourself from being bred. “I wonder what it’ll be like-” his thumb arches gracefully over your stomach- “seeing you with a child, tits full of milk, cunt always creamy, ready for a good pounding.” He laughs lowly, hooking an arm underneath you, hand spread against your spine, arching and he’s deep inside of you, feeling you tighten against him. 

The masked killer is grateful that he’s forgotten how you feel. You’re limp, nothing more than a warm sex-toy for him, curved and heavy underneath his hand, neck bent and mouth parted, and he smiles when he sees your eyes begin to flutter. That’s what he wants. He wants to see your fear. Intruding on you in your sleep is wonderful, invading your home and snooping around your things is nothing more than an extra step for him, something for him to relax himself with, but with all your fearful glances, he’s never realized that he could force you to look scared, to see it up close and personal. 

He continues to thrust against you, moving his cock and a hand, large and heavy, fingers that look perfect and immaculate, wrap around your throat, small, pale scars wrap around his fingers like rings of past lovers, memorabilia that is only seen when looked upon closely. He tightens his hand, cutting off air and your body reacts first, going rigid, hands raising and eyes popping open in horror and he truly does ponder what it must be like to see him. Your nails dig into his hands, eyes already wet with tears, and you’re horrified. He can practically smell it off of you, the dripping arousal, the way he can feel your heart speed up through the pulse in your neck, the way you gasp for breath and he can hear you whisper out something, strained and hoarse, only able to be heard when he stills his hips and stops the lewd noises that scream from your cunt. 

“Ghostface,” you mumble, bottom lip trembling and a lovely blue color forming on your face. 

His smile is stretched comically beneath his mask. “That’s right.” He pulls out, the tip still warm inside of you, leaking with arousal and he slams back into you, legs tensing, muscles strained and taut as he fucks you. “The one and only,” he whispers, pressing the mask against your face, the soft mesh of the black mouth kissing against your frightful parted lips.

He keeps a hand around your neck, loosening it enough for you to breathe again, while his other hand slips between your meshed bodies, dipping past your mound and into your slit, circling around your clit, feeling it throb under his touch. He laughs and it’s full of pride. He holds you close, pulling you deep against him, a soft cry when you instinctively clench as he circles around your pearl. Tears slip past your eyes, catching against your eyelashes like pearls, latching onto his hands like dew on the morning, and he’s pressed himself still against you, hand leaving your clit, and reaching blindly for the abandoned camera, taking a picture of you with a hand around your throat and tears a simple, but handsome ornament. On the screen is you, terrified and crying and he tosses the camera to the side, plastic buried into your chest as he fills your hungry cunt with his seed.

“I can’t wait to see you with a round body.” He pushes himself further against you, cock dribbling inside of you, filling you with copious amounts of semen. “Fat fucking tits-” his tongue pushes against the black fabric covering his mouth, licking at your chest that has moistened with his quick breath- “a creamy, little cunt that will beg to be fucked.” His hand returns to your clit, pinching the bud between two fingers and hearing you squeal makes him thrust his hips, shivers running down his spine, the sensitivity making squirts of thick discharge fill your already prepped cervix. “Trust me-” he rises and looks at you and he knows he’s making eye contact- “when I’m back, I’ll make sure to make you feel good.” 

He latches onto you, hand escaping your neck and he hears you gasp for breath. You wheeze and croak, crying and pleading for him to stop and it only pushes for him to go further, to fuck you until your muscles start to tense, twitching and pulsing. You moan and it’s muffled by a bite of your lips. It’s a short sound, cutoff and ruined by you, but it’s alluring, melodic and making him shove two digits into your mouth, pulling your jaw down by your teeth and his fingertips rest flat against your tongue. Your moans are stretched, muffled and broken and it’s still enough for him to want more, to push himself deep inside of you, to have you reach your own high if it meant he could hear more of your perverse sounds.

“Say my name,” he murmurs, naked body sticking to yours by his sweat. “Scream. I want to hear you say the name of the one who’s making you feel this good. Scream and I promise that you’ll survive this night.” He kisses you through the meshed black of the mask, salvia swapped and spreading into a thin puddle of his mask, pushing his tongue through it until he feels as if it’s going to rip. You were always going to survive. He’s had too much fun to ever let you go but you don’t know that and he uses it to his advantage.

It’s a whisper, a soft movement of your lips against his. Your nipples rub against his chest and his name is broken with your voice. “Ah,” you sing, tightening your legs and your high is approaching. “Ghost-” he can hear the disgust and lust mixed with each other- “Ghostface,” you murmur. It’s repeated until your voice is hoarse, lust taking over, eyes heavy and rolling back, arms reaching around him and you’re entangled in a gruesome hug with him, moaning his name as your cunt clenches around him, flooding with your release, his name a mantra under your breath, echoed in the room and he stills, spilling inside of you. Eyes closed and resting his body onto you as you squirm underneath, desperate to continue your high. His name, “Ghostface” slowly murmured, a mess of his name as you release against him.

[tchallasbabymama]

Don't Forget About Us

Hello, my lovelies. Here’s my contribution to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes smut challenge (the prompt is in bold!) Let’s see what Erik’s up to now, shall we?

Don’t forget to check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots. Your comments and reblogs mean the world to me, so make sure to let me know what you think! And let me know if you want to be tagged in any of my writing. Enjoy😘

Word count: 5,595

CW: smut...duh.

“So, what do you do for a living?”

Kayla sighed internally at the question and took a sip of her Pinot Grigio. She hated first dates with a burning passion, but unfortunately, that was the only way to find a man around here. She went through the motions of politely answering his questions, barely asking any of her own. She didn’t care. Even just fifteen minutes in, Kayla could tell he didn’t excite her, and she lamented the waste of a good outfit as she listened to him drone on about his life. Every now and then, he’d stop and ask a question about her, but she could tell he was only asking so he could talk more about himself.

How many siblings do you have?

What’s your sign?

Why did your last relationship end?

Her mind traveled to her ex-boyfriend, Erik Stevens. They had spent six blissful years together, and Kayla thought he was the one. She wanted them to get married and start a family, and she thought he did, too, but every time she brought it up, he’d find some excuse to change the subject. At thirty years old, Kayla wasn’t getting any younger, so she grew tired of his avoidance and eventually cut him loose. She needed more out of life, but the guy currently sitting across from her certainly wasn’t it.

“We wanted different things,” she answered vaguely and took another sip. It would be a long night with what’s-his-name. David? Devon? Whatever. At least he had money and took her to a nice restaurant.

Darryl took the opportunity to bore her with the details of his job, which Kayla already knew. He was a colleague of her best friend, Carina’s husband. They worked at the same law firm, and Carina decided to hook them up after tiring of hearing Kayla complain about dating apps. As much as Kayla hated Tinder, she would’ve much rather been at home on her couch swiping left on the cesspool of single men Oakland had to offer. Every few dozen swipes or so, she’d find a cutie, but his bio would be abysmal, or his conversation skills would fall flat.

Despite the fact that their relationship just couldn’t make it, Kayla still thought of Erik as the gold standard. Just thinking about his dimples and his struggle beard made her smile dreamily. His big, strong arms would wrap around her and hold her tight at night, and she’d trace her fingers over the intentionally placed keloid scars that held his darkest secrets. She missed retwisting his locs and the way he always smelled like sandalwood and warm vanilla. Kayla didn’t want to admit it, but she still loved him. No man could compare to her Erik.

“Hello? Kayla?”

“Huh? Oh, sorry. Can you repeat that last part?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What’s got you so distracted, babygirl?”

Kayla fought the bile rising in her throat. She wasn’t his babygirl. It didn’t even sound right coming from his mouth. Maybe it was the thinness of his lips. They weren’t “white man” thin, but they couldn’t hold a candle to the juicy pussy pleasers she had grown accustomed to.

“Nothing, just thought I saw somebody I know. You were saying?”

“Just that you look beautiful tonight,” Damon attempted to flirt with her.

Kayla wanted to roll her eyes but thanked him instead and smiled politely again. Of course she looked beautiful; she had pulled out all the stops for what she had hoped would be a good night out. Kayla had squeezed her thickness into a lavender satin dress. The way the dress’s skirt cinched on the side kept it snug around her plush waist, but the high slit that traveled up her thigh was the main attraction. The strappy silver heels on her feet showed off her matching pedicure that contrasted beautifully with her glistening brown skin, and her makeup was flawless. Her outerwear for the night, a cropped fur jacket that had found its way to the coat check when they arrived, was the icing on the cake. Her outfit deserved the appreciation, just not from Deshawn.

The waiter saved her from having to focus on her date when she brought out the food they had ordered. Since Kayla knew Derek had money, she had ordered the whole lobster, and she fought her mouth from drooling too much as the waiter set it down in front of her. It laid on a bed of forbidden rice, and the side of roasted brussels sprouts and cremini mushrooms looked heavenly. The ramekin of drawn butter off to the side tempted her as it sat next to the minuscule seafood fork. She may not enjoy her company for the evening, but Kayla damn sure was going to enjoy her meal.

“Looks good,” Dominic called from the other side of the table, breaking Kayla from her trance as he cut into his wagyu beef.

“Sure does.” Kayla wasted no time before digging into her meal. Not only was it the perfect excuse to avoid conversation, but it was perfect, period.

A slight chill permeated the air as the door swung open and the crisp January air entered the small restaurant. Kayla shivered as she complained internally about being forced to sit near the door, but that shiver intensified as she heard a voice. His voice.

“Reservation for Stevens, please.”

Kayla stilled.

“Of course. Right this way, sir,” the maitre d’ responded, and Kayla heard three sets of footsteps coming her way.

--------

“Babe, let’s go!”

“Yell at me one more time, woman,” Erik warned as he came around the corner into the living room, fastening his watch.

“I swear, you take more time getting ready than I do.”

“Whatever, Mo. You ready?”

“Nigga, I been ready!”

Erik rolled his eyes and grabbed his keys. It would be a rough night, and things were already starting off on a bad foot. He and Monique had been seeing each other for the better part of a year, and he’d finally reached his limit. She was overbearing, rude, and just after him for his money, but he hated being alone, so he put up with her bullshit. His cousin, T’Challa, had tried to hook him up with a few ladies back in Wakanda when he went to visit after his breakup, but nothing stuck. Almost immediately after coming back to the states, Erik met Monique at a charity event for the Outreach Center. She had the singing voice of an angel and had been booked as the entertainment for the evening. Erik was drawn to her like a sailor to a siren, and she immediately sank her teeth into him. Past her vocal talents, Monique wasn’t really anything special. Her personality left a lot to be desired, she wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, and she just wasn’t her.

The moment Kayla ended their relationship a year ago, Erik’s whole world shattered. He had lived a life full of pain and loss, but Kayla had been his lifeline. She pulled him out of the dark and made him revel in the sunshine. Hell, she was the sunshine, but now he had settled for a UV lamp at best. Kayla had wanted a life that Erik was too scared to give her, but that fear became his downfall. He still missed her most nights. He was lonely, and Monique was there to keep him company, but that wasn’t enough for him anymore. Erik craved a connection that Monique just couldn’t provide. So he decided he had to break it off and figured that doing so in a public place would probably be best. She had a tendency to throw things when she got angry.

The car ride to Chez Martine was tense. Monique had been angry all day because Erik had taken back his credit card even though she wanted to buy a new dress for their date. Her lousy mood almost made him dump her back at his condo, but Erik kept a cool head and stayed focused on the plan. He ignored the way Monique complained the entire time she got ready, reluctantly putting on a dress he had seen her wear before. It didn’t matter to him; he knew what the night held.

When they walked into the restaurant, Erik’s heart dropped into his stomach. He’d recognize that shoulder blade tattoo anywhere. She had cut off all her hair and lost a few pounds, but he knew for sure that he was looking at Kayla. His Kayla. He forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed her table and prayed that the maitre d’ didn’t sit them where she could see him. Unfortunately, he had no such luck because the only open table for two was directly within her line of sight. He prayed again that Monique would sit on the far side of the table, but Bast ignored his pleas once more. He had to sit facing her, and as soon as he got comfortable in his chair, her gaze slyly trailed over to him. They locked eyes across the room, and Erik’s heart stopped. She was just as beautiful as the last time he saw her all those months ago, but who the fuck was that sitting across from her?

“What are you looking at?” Monique’s abrasive voice cut through his eardrums.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone I know, that’s all.”

She cut her eyes at him and turned around to look as he buried his face in the menu.

“Quit being nosy,” he complained.

“I just wanna see who’s got your attention, that’s all.” Monique turned back around with a sour look on her face. “It’s probably that fat girl with her cleavage all out.”

“Mo, just look at the fucking menu and act like you got some sense.”

“Fine.”

Monique pouted until the waiter showed up, but she plastered a fake smile on her face as he took their order. As usual, she ordered the most expensive thing on the menu, and it bothered him to no end that she was hellbent on spending all of his money. Of course, he had plenty, but she felt entitled to it. Kayla never cared about him being rich. Hell, when they got together, she didn’t even know he was a prince, but he loved to spoil her nonetheless. He loved the look on her face when he’d buy her things or take her on the expensive trips that she more than deserved. Kayla appreciated everything he did for her with all her heart, but she’d say the same thing every time.

“Thank you, baby, but you’re all I need.”

Erik smiled fondly at the memory of when he bought her a diamond tennis bracelet from Wakanda for their second anniversary. She was so excited to have diamonds that weren’t marred by exploited labor that she damn near dropped the box when she saw what was inside. It had been a rough year for them, what with him disappearing for a couple of months to seize the Wakandan throne and all. She certainly had plenty of colorful words for him when he came back. He’ll never forget the look on her face when he showed up at her door. He had brought T’Challa for backup just in case, but she looked right past the king as tears welled up in her eyes at seeing her Erik, alive and well.

Erik’s eyes started to get misty as he thought about the way she kissed him with so much emotion...then slapped him across the face for leaving. His gaze wandered back over to Kayla and he noticed the light bounce off of something on her arm. She was wearing the bracelet.

As if she felt his glare, Kayla shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so he averted his eyes back to Monique, who had caught him staring again.

“Why don’t you go say hi?” she asked sarcastically, making him roll his eyes so hard they almost got stuck.

--------

Erik Stevens. Here, of all places. He just had to be here.

Kayla noticed that he didn’t seem to be enjoying his modelesque date’s company any more than she was enjoying Darwin’s, and the pang of jealousy she felt at seeing him with another woman went away. She knew she had no right to feel any kind of way about it, especially since she was the one that broke things off. That didn’t make it any easier, though.

Dylan was too wrapped up in his steak to notice her wandering eye, but it seemed that Erik’s food was as uninteresting as the woman across from him. Kayla watched as he half-heartedly pushed it around his plate, but he certainly kept his favorite whiskey coming. She wanted to chuckle but didn’t want Daniel to think he had anything to do with her levity. They were both drowning their dissatisfactions in their alcohols of choice, and Kayla got a phantom taste of Uncle Nearest 1856 on her lips as she watched him take a sip. When he set the glass down and licked his lips, Kayla felt flush. She missed those lips…

“So, how about dessert?” Damien asked as he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach. “I hear their creme brulee is amazing.”

“Uh, sure, why not?”

“You know,” he began as he leaned in and reached for her hands. She allowed him to take them, but the softness of his hands disgusted her. No callouses, no roughness, not even a firm grip. “I’ve had a great night. I’d love to see you again.”

Kayla chuckled nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

“What are you doing next-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!”

A shrill voice pierced the air as Erik’s date bolted up from her seat. Desmond, and the whole restaurant, turned around to see what was going on, and Kayla took the opportunity to remove her hands from his.

“Keep your voice down,” Erik sneered through his teeth. “We’re in public.”

“So?! You bring me out here just to dump me? To dump this?!” she gestured at her slim figure, and he rolled his eyes.

“You ain’t even all that,” he waved her off. He was tired of playing nice, and Kayla could see the exasperation written all over his face.

“Excuse me, miss-” the waiter attempted to calm her down, but the crazed woman cut him off.

“Stay out of this!”

“I’m so sorry,” Erik mouthed to the poor man who would absolutely be getting a monstrous tip later.

“Oh, you’re sorry for him, but not for me?”

“Mo, just sit down. We can finish our meal like adults-”

“Fuck you, Erik.” She threw her dirty martini at him, soaking the front of his all-black ensemble.

Kayla could damn near see the steam coming out of his ears as his apparent ex stormed out of the restaurant. Erik locked eyes with her across the room, and when he saw the concern written all over her face, his softened.

“Whew, poor fella,” Dexter commented as he turned back around. “Where was I? Oh-”

“Excuse me, where’s your restroom?” Kayla interrupted him as their waiter walked by.

“Right down there.” She pointed at a set of stairs off to the side, and Kayla thanked her as she slid out of her seat.

“I’ll be back, Darius.”

“It’s Denzel.” He deflated.

“Fuck,” she froze. She had been sure it was Darius. “Still, I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be here,” he responded, obviously upset by her slip-up.

Kayla hurried off down the stairs and leaned against the wall as she waited for either of the single-use restrooms to open up. She took a deep breath and opened her clutch, reaching in to pull out her phone with a shaky hand and typing in his number. It was one of the few she had memorized, just in case.

“You ok?”

Her thumb hovered over the send button, but she couldn’t press it. Her heart nearly thumped out of her chest at the thought of starting a conversation with him, but something within her said that she should. It would be weird not to say anything after all that, right?

“Hey-”

“Shit!” Kayla dropped her phone when his silky baritone graced her ears.

“My fault, ma.” Erik leaned over and picked the phone off the floor, checking it for cracks. He saw she had typed a message out to him and smirked before handing it back to her.

“T-thanks.”

“No problem. And, yeah, I’m ok.”

“Huh?”

Erik pointed at her phone screen.

“Oh! Right. Um, well, that’s good to hear.” Kayla attempted to push her hair behind her ear out of habit, forgetting she had just cut it all off a week ago.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You ok? You don’t seem to into ole dude out there.”

Kayla sighed and rolled her eyes, “Oh, him.”

“Damn, it’s like that?” Erik laughed, and she slapped his arm. That slight contact was enough to spark a flame in them both, and Erik’s face turned serious. “For real, though, not going well?”

“Better than you, it seems,” she quipped as she eyed his wet shirt. That was a bad idea because his first three buttons were undone, and she caught a peek of the raised scars that she missed so much. And that broad chest, and the chain with his father’s ring that he always wore. He’d let her wear it from time to time, and she always felt like it was such an honor. He trusted her enough to let her wear it. He loved her enough to-

Kayla pried her eyes away and made yet another mistake: she looked up at him. Those eyes still looked like sweet, sweet molasses, and even though his locs were braided back, she could tell he was letting them grow out. She momentarily wondered who was retwisting them nowadays, but her train of thought was cut short by the scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Kayla’s mind went blank as she inhaled slowly.

“Heh, yeah. That was...that was pretty embarrassing. Not even gonna lie.” Erik looked away shyly, unable to hold her gaze.

“I guess you’ll need to find a new date spot, huh?”

“Nah, I think I’m good on dating for a while.”

“Same,” Kayla sighed. “Dating sucks.”

“Yeah…”

One of the bathroom doors unlocked, and a middle-aged white man stepped out and passed them on the way up the stairs.

“Well, I should-”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Kayla walked towards the bathroom, but before she could reach the door, she felt a light tug on her wrist. His touch still gave her goosebumps, and he noticed her raised skin as she turned to face him.

“I just, uh...it was nice seeing you, Kay-kay.” Erik smiled at her, and she nearly melted. She missed when he called her that, too. “You look good.”

“Thanks, E.” She smiled back. “So do you.”

He let her go, and Kayla disappeared into the bathroom. When she closed the door behind her, she took a deep breath to center herself. After all these months, Erik still took her breath away. He clouded her senses and scrambled her mind. Even as she took care of business, her brain replayed their short interaction on a loop.

Kayla locked eyes with her reflection as she dried her hands. How could she go back up there to- what’s his name? Oh, yeah, Da- Denzel. That’s it, Denzel. How could she go back up there to his mediocre company when the man she still loved had made her feel so alive with just one touch. That was the magic of Erik, his magnetism. When they were together, she couldn’t help but be drawn to him, even when she wanted to slap him across his beautiful face. Those were some of the best times, though. If she was angry at him, he knew exactly what to do to calm her down. To put her in her place. To remind her-

Kayla’s daydreaming was cut short by a knock at the door.

“Occupied!”

It came again.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

She reached for another paper towel to dab off the sweat that had started to pool on her skin at the thought of Erik’s dominance when the door opened.

“What the f- Erik?!”

He pushed inside the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

“You need to start locking doors, Kay.”

“I- what do you want?”

“I want to talk to you,” he spoke as he moved closer to her.

“Here?!”

“Yeah, here,” he chuckled.

Kayla rolled her eyes and tried to push past him.

“Now is not the time or place-”

“When is?” he blocked her exit, and she crossed her arms in defeat, looking up at him through her lashes as she leaned against the sink. “Look, I just need to say something real quick.”

“Fine,” Kayla sighed and gestured for him to continue. She knew there was no use fighting him. She wasn’t leaving that bathroom until he was good and ready.

“Kay,” his voice softened, and she looked away only to have her face pulled back in his direction. “Kay-kay, look at me.”

She made the mistake of doing just that, getting lost in his eyes again.

“I miss you,” Erik murmured.

“Erik-”

“Look, I know, ok? I know. And I’m sorry, Kay. I really am- no, look at me. I’m sorry I wasn’t enough for you...but I miss you, girl.”

Kayla’s eyes welled up with tears that she tried her hardest to blink away, but one had the nerve to fall. Erik wiped it away, and the next one, and the next one. A sob wracked Kayla’s body, and he wrapped his arms around her body.

“Don’t cry, babygirl. I know you worked hard on your makeup.”

Kayla laughed through her tears, but the emotions washed back over her, and she buried her face into his chest. It was already soaked with gin, so what harm would a few tears do?

He held her and rocked her softly from side to side as she cried, and after a couple of minutes, she found the will to look up at him again. His cheeks were wet, so she reached up and swiped her thumbs over them as she held his face in her small hands. He nuzzled into them and kissed her wrists.

“I miss you, too, E,” she croaked.

“I know, babygirl.”

He leaned in to kiss her forehead, and she closed her eyes as his soft lips caressed her skin. They stayed intertwined for who knows how long until Erik felt Kayla begin to pull back. He looked down at her, and the two of them locked eyes. Before they knew it, their lips had met in the middle in a passionate embrace. They got lost in each other for a moment until common sense returned to Kayla, and she pushed him off.

“We can’t-”

“Why not?”

“Because…”

“Because what, Kay?” Erik’s voice rumbled as he closed what little gap was between their bodies. He left soft kisses on her temples before working down to her cheeks, then her jawline, and eventually the column of her neck. She let out a soft whimper when his teeth grazed the crook of her neck but pushed him back again before he could continue any further.

“Erik, I...I still love you, and-”

He attacked her lips with his, hands feverishly gripping her waist as he pushed her further into the sink. She had nowhere to go, and she was ok with that.

“I...love you...too...babygirl,” he whispered between kisses.

Kayla’s mind went blank as he lifted her up on the counter and pressed himself between her legs. She could feel him, all of him, and damn did she miss that monster between his legs.

“Erik,” she moaned as he nipped at her earlobe. He still knew how to play her body like a violin.

“Mmm, say it again.”

“Erik!” she squeaked as she felt his strong hands grip her thighs.

“Just like that,” he groaned, and she flooded her already wet panties.

“Baby-”

He connected his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes. “You miss me?”

“Mhm,” Kayla nodded with her lip between her teeth.

“I miss you, too, baby. I think about you all the time. Every day,” he pecked her lips, “every night. I miss everything about you, Kay-kay. Your off-key singing, your horrible cooking-”

“Shut up,” Kayla giggled as his hands traveled up her dress.

“Your body…fuck I miss this body. I miss how you smell, how you taste...how that tight little pussy feels wrapped around my dick.”

Kayla widened her legs for him as his fingers found their way to the seat of her panties, stroking up and down her slit. Erik kissed his way back down her face and over to her ear, his warm breath sending chills down her spine.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself? Because I do. You’re all I see when I stroke my dick...wishing it was your hand...your lips...this fucking pussy.”

Erik pushed her panties to the side, and his nimble fingers circled her clit. Kayla let out a small moan that was music to his ears, making fingers move faster and her breath grow shallower with each rotation.

“Answer me.”

“Mhm.”

“Come on, babygirl, you can do better than that. You think about me when you play in your pussy? This pussy right here?” he asked as he slapped her vulva, her wetness sticking to his hand.

“Y-yes, baby-”

“Uh-uh, you know who I am. Say it,” Erik commanded as he snuck three fingers inside her wetness, making her moan loudly in his ear. “Shhh, you gotta be quiet, babygirl. You don’t want people out there knowing how much of a slut you are, right?”

Kayla shook her head no.

“That’s what I thought. Now, I asked you a question, Kayla,” he reminded her. His gruff voice made her weak, and the fingers that were steadily speeding up inside her certainly didn’t help. “Answer me. Who am I, babygirl?”

Kayla tried to hold out as much as she could. She didn’t want to say it, too proud to give in, but the way he was currently stretching out her pussy and curling his fingers inside her made her cling to his shoulders. The bastard knew what he was doing, and she didn’t want to let him win. But then, he played dirty and bit down on her neck. She cried out, and when he pulled back to look at her, the ferocity in his eyes drove her up the wall.

“I said, who the fuck am I, Kayla?” Erik growled. His hand sped up, making her weak with every thrust. She couldn’t hold it anymore and came undone around him, her mouth betraying her as his name fell from her lips.

“Daddy!” she gasped as her pussy spasmed, and he chuckled darkly.

“Damn right I am,” he kissed her lips, “now gimme that pussy. Daddy missed his pussy.”

Kayla heard a rip and felt the cool air between her legs as he tore through her panties to get to her treasure trove. She reached down between them and grabbed his clothed erection in her hand, making him groan as he bit down on his luscious bottom lip. She undid his belt buckle and slowly unzipped his pants before reaching in and pulling out his throbbing dick.

The longing in her eyes told him everything he needed to know, so he pushed her legs back and tapped his head on her clit.

“You want daddy’s dick in you?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered.

“Good.”

He pushed in and groaned at the feeling of her pussy walls gripping him as he sheathed himself inside her.

“Fuck, you feel like home.”

Kayla moaned into his neck in response and wound her hips against him, meeting him thrust for thrust as he stroked into her slow and deep. She couldn’t form words. He felt so damn good inside her that Kayla’s brain had short-circuited. Erik’s dick hit spots that she could never find herself no matter how hard she tried. Even in her dreams, he drove her body wild. She had spent the last year trying to find somebody, anybody who could make her feel that way, but nobody could compare to Erik Stevens.

Erik and Kayla panted heavily into each others’ mouths as he made love to her body, and as soon as Kayla started to tense up, his thrusts grew harder.

“I-I-”

“I know, babygirl. Daddy feels it,” he groaned as he nipped at her bottom lip. “Cum on my dick like a good girl.”

His words sent Kayla into overdrive, and her body shook as she spilled over him. Her spasming walls hugged him tight, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, begging him with her eyes.

“You feel amazing,” she moaned.

“Mhm. I know them other niggas wasn’t hitting it like this. I just know it. Look at you, cumming all over daddy’s dick. Look at it!” He grabbed her chin and made her look down at her throbbing pussy as his dick slid in and out of her.

“We look so good, daddy!”

Erik slammed into her, and she bit into his shoulder to keep from screaming. He gave her his all over and over, rocking the countertop in the process.

“We’ll look even better if you let me cum in this pussy. Mix my cum with yours-”

“Yes!”

“Yes?” He chuckled. “You want it that bad, huh? Nasty ass, in here getting fucked while that bum ass nigga’s waiting for you upstairs.”

“Mmm, I want it.”

“Want what, babygirl?” Erik teased as he brought his thumb to her clit, strumming it slowly as he thrust into her.

“You. I want you to cum deep in me.”

“Shit,” Erik groaned. “You want it deep in there?”

“Mhm. Put it where it belongs, daddy.” Kayla licked up the side of his neck, making his knees buckle. “Cum in your pussy.”

Erik lost all sense of control and pounded into her tight pussy, somehow getting even deeper in preparation for his release. Kayla held on tight as she felt him begin to spasm inside her, and she released around him again as his deep moans tickled her ear. Erik thrust extra deep and held his dick in place as he emptied his balls into her warmth, whimpering lightly as she rubbed his back to soothe him and bring him back down.

“I missed you, babygirl.”

“I missed you, too, daddy.”

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other until their breathing slowed. Erik was the first to move, slowly pulling himself out of Kayla as she whined at the loss of contact. He kissed all over her face before planting a slow, sweet kiss on her lips.

“I can’t let you go again, Kay-kay,” his voice cracked as tears threatened to fall from his eyes again.

Kayla pulled him back in and kissed him so deeply that she nearly lost herself in him again, but he pulled away and looked her in her eyes.

“I’m serious, girl. I’ll do anything. I’ll marry you, give you as many big-headed babies as you want. Just, please, Kay-” she cut him off with another kiss to shut him up.

“We should go back to my place and talk,” she whispered, and Erik’s face lit up. Something about the way she said it, the way she kissed him, the way her body still responded to his...it gave him hope. Kayla smiled at him and pecked his lips once more before hopping off of the sink. He had to catch her because her legs were wobbly, and she stumbled a little in her heels.

“You aight?” he laughed.

“No, nigga,” she slapped his chest, and the two of them got caught in a laughing fit. They had really just fucked in the bathroom at Chez Martine. Kayla was on cloud nine until a thought occurred to her, and her face fell flat. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Erik’s face turned serious, and his eyes scanned over her body, looking for whatever the problem was.

Kayla started giggling again, and he looked confused.

“What is it?” he asked, barely able to keep a straight face. Her laugh was always so infectious…

“Demetrius.”

“Who?!”

“My date.”

“Girl, don’t worry about him. He probably thinks you dipped out anyway.”

Kayla shrugged and fixed her dress as Erik stuffed his shirt back in his pants. They checked their reflections in the mirror, and Kayla was pleasantly surprised that her makeup was still intact thanks to that setting spray she had splurged on the other day.

“Ready?” Erik asked as he admired her beauty. Kayla nodded, and he unlocked the door, opening it to find Duncan leaning against the wall with a sour look on his face. Kayla’s eyes blew wide as she tried to figure out what to say to her date for the evening.

“Heyyy, um…”

“Denzel,” he seethed.

“Yeah, sorry. So, um, we’re-”

“Sorry, bruh,” Erik clapped him on the shoulder, “but we heading out. Bathroom’s all yours, though.”

Erik pulled Kayla along, and she sent Deion an apologetic glance before following Erik up the stairs. It seemed the whole restaurant knew what had occurred, but neither one of them cared. They were just happy to be around each other again. It had been entirely too long.

Taglist: @ladymac82, @kitesatforestp, @harleycativy, @raysunshine78, @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me,@toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @blacklytical, @uzumaki-rebellion, @honeyandpeaches, @cecereads209, @wakandama2,

[softomi]

I bet my wife is scarier than yours.

Kuroo Testuro

He was always lectured by you to take off his wedding ring when he went to the bathroom, but he was never worried about his ring. It would pass over his head as he washed his hands, urging to himself that the next time he’d do it. But today, his face fallen and pale; it didn’t help that you were already currently angry with him for forgetting to move the wet clothes from the washer to the drier; and now he watched in horror as his wedding ring slipped off his finger and into the drain.

“What are you doing?” Your hands on your hips when you see his hand stuffed into the sink.

Kuroo laughs, “Just thought I’d fix the drain.”

You eyed him before moving your way to the laundry room. Kuroo whips out his phone, emergency texting his friends who gave zero decent input into his situation. He fears that he may have to spend another week sleeping on the couch; or worse, kicked out of his home until he can replace his ring.

But he wasn’t going to let that happen, even if it meant they have to hire a plumber later to fix what he breaks, then so be it; as long as you never find out.

“You lost your ring didn’t you.” Out from under the kitchen sink, Kuroo watches your facial features frown, arms cross, and a deep irritated sigh.

“I swear honey, I’ll get it back. It’s in the stupid drain. Just don’t be mad.” When Kuroo finally manages to unscrew the bottom, he feels triumphant. He shakes the ends a bit and out falls two rings. Kuroo curiously picks up the band that was clearly not his, staring at it until he realizes, it was your ring, “What the? You lost your ring!” Kuroo is using his shirt to clean the diamond, “This cost a fortune and you let it fall through the drain!”

Your hand collides with his head, your lips twitching, “Were you not digging in the drain for yours too?”

Iwaizumi Hajime

Many thought that there was nothing that could scare the man. He was immune to bugs, horror films, even when his friends try to surprise him; it never really works. Nothing scares him; or so they thought. It was one thing for him to bring his kids to work, sure, he’s done it hundreds of times on days when he knew it was going to be slow; but you specifically told him to keep the children off the court. Has he ever listened; no because in his mind, what could go wrong, apparently everything.

“Now what are we going to tell mommy?” Iwaizumi has stopped the car now, parked right in front of their home, he turns to his two children. His beautiful six year old daughter and his two year old son.

The little girl has remnants of ice cream still on her face, “I fell!”

He should have known better than to trust a six year old, the moment she walked through the doors and saw her caring, beautiful, loving mother; she began to bawl uncontrollably. Incoherent crying mixed with child snot, Iwaizumi was praying that you couldn’t understand her and would ultimately just make her stop crying.

“What!” You stood to your feet, “You let her go out onto the court! You know how dangerous that can be with all the guys spiking volleyballs all over the place.” You step forward but he’s using his two year old son as a shield, “Hajime!”

“She was just playing with Atsumu and then she fell!” Your eyes narrow on the male and he concedes immediately, “Okay so Atsumu set the ball, Bokuto spiked it, it landed right in front of her and might of hit her face for a second.” You let out a large gasp, “But I checked! She doesn’t have any major injuries! Right?” Iwaizumi attempts to pat his daughter on the head but she sinks behind her mother’s legs; the ultimate betrayal.

“Hajime.” You take a step forward but he uses his son as a shield again, “Hajime!” The male side steps you, practically skipping to the bedroom with his son, “Don’t even think that you’re sleeping in our bed tonight!”

Bokuto Koutarou  

Bless his soul, somehow you’ve thought it would be the most fantastic idea to leave him alone with his one and a half year old daughter. It wasn’t like he hadn’t been alone with her before, but this would officially be the first time that you actually spend a full twenty-four hours away from the house, the baby, and your husband. You had left him a list of instructions on how to feed her, different house chores needing to be done, and even a detailed timetable of your daughter’s day.

“Oh no, please don’t cry. If you cry, then daddy’s going to cry.” Bokuto sits on the living room floor, his daughter sat right in front of him with the worst cry on her face.

It’s two hours until you said you’d be back and Bokuto is just realizing now that he hasn’t done anything you asked. He thought that if he put his daughter to sleep just an hour earlier, perhaps he’d have enough time to finish the chores; what he discovers is that his daughter wouldn’t sleep, instead she continued to bawl in the bed and even when it neared her nap time; Bokuto made the mistake of letting her have a sugary treat, obviously she wouldn’t sleep.

“I’m home?” Your words are drawn out when you step into the living room, your daughter and husband on the floor just on the verge of tears, the living room a mess with toys all over the floor, the laundry sprawled out onto the couch, and for some reason there’s paint on the floors and walls, “Koutarou!”

You pick up your daughter who crawled to your foot, her crying slows down when she’s in your arms and Bokuto sheepishly looks to you, “Welcome home honey!”

“Do you want to explain?” Your hand gestures to the entire house that is a mess, “I gave you a very detailed list Kou!”

He stands, arms encasing you into a hug, “I’m so sorry!” He’s peppering away your angered expression with kisses and you can’t help but to smile. His hands are leading you to the bedroom, “I’ll clean everything up, just rest!”

He wasn’t able to clean everything up, when you emerged from the bedroom with your daughter napping, you saw that somehow the mess got bigger. Your hands on your hips, a scowl on your lips, when he tries to skip to you with puckered lips, you throw a pillow to his face. Maybe he’d be better off sleeping at Akaashi’s place.

Kita Shinsuke

It hadn’t been long since the both of you tied the knot let alone since finding out you were expecting his first child, so there were many changes in his routine. He’s persistent though, if he could do it one day then the next day he could do it too. Ever since you’ve entered the stage of pregnancy where you want to eat everything and anything, Kita finds himself at the grocery store more often than he would routinely like to.

“Yes dear.” Kita listens to you ramble a list of things you would like from the store, he was absolutely tired and wasn’t writing anything down. You had been in a bad mood all day due to your sore lower back and anything Kita has tried hasn’t worked.

“Are you listening? Honey, I really want watermelon, that’s what I want the most. I don’t want the prepackaged ones, I want an entire watermelon.”

He insists he was listening but when faced with the two different type of watermelon, all Kita can remember is you saying prepackaged. So the frown you have on your face when he pulls out a little clear container of watermelon, his memory rushes back to recall that you specifically asked for a fresh watermelon.

“I’ll go back to the store.” He gulps.

“No.” Your words are sharp, the smile on your face sends a chill down his spine, “It’s okay, maybe our son will be happy that his father has given him poor watermelon instead of listening to his loving wife who asked for a fresh watermelon. Shinsuke! You said you were listening!”

He was dejected to sitting outside, pulling at the random grass as he looked over his rice field. He turns when he hears footsteps, you were pouting while looking down at him. If there was anything that he was glad about with your mood swings, it was that your anger left as quickly as it came. He stands, a hand supporting your back to lead you back to the house.

“Why don’t we go to the store together? I’ll buy you everything you want.”

Oikawa Tooru

It was no secret that the two of you were angry with each other, the restaurant was awfully cheery compared to the silent treatment that you were giving Oikawa and the one that he was giving right back at you. So you two settled on just not talking to each other; but the more you stayed silent, the more Oikawa felt uneasy. Because now you were reaching an entirely new type of mad, one where you looked calm and collected but deep down in your eyes, he was screwed.

“I’m sorry.” He finally spits out in the middle of the meal.

“For what?” You inquire, sipping the soup from your spoon slowly without looking at him.

He lowers his head, “I’m sorry I decided to go hang out with the guys instead of coming home to you, my lovely and adorable wife who I adore and love.” He tries sending you a sweet smile, hoping that his sugarcoated words would bring you back to smile for him.

“Not good enough.” Your words stab him in the back. You set the spoon down, opting to finally look at him before lifting your hand. You place a finger down, “I told you to come home early tonight so we could clean the house.” Another finger down, “You lied to me saying you had to practice longer.” Another finger, “You go over to Iwaizumi’s place because he just got the PS5 and you just had to play.” Another, “You forgot to take out the trash this morning which I told you to do before you left.” One more finger, “If you want to play with Iwaizumi so much then go sleep at his place.”

His heart is wounded, still, he tries to be sweet and caring, “You shouldn’t be so stressed honey, it won’t be good for the baby.”

Your glare causes him to retract in his seat, “Oh! So when it’s convenient for you, you’ll use the baby.”

“No that’s not what I meant.”

You begin to spew more words that dagger into his heart, he’s finally concluded that he can’t do anything to cease your anger at him and as he trudges behind you into the shared home, he can already feel the loneliness of the spare bedroom he’ll be sleeping in tonight. As he turns to head straight for the room, you groan.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You stand at the doorframe of the main bedroom. Your voice suddenly changes, “Sleep with me.”

[recklessmark]

mine

—when the bodyguard your dad hired is your long lost rival.

Pairings: bodyguard Mark x mob-boss Reader

Words: 2.4k

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), dirty talk, rough sex, oral sex, spanking, slut shamming, orgasm denial, mark is possessive but cute at the end.

The sounds of your heels clicking against the ground filled up the silent patio. You stormed into your house after receiving a text from your dad, basically demonstrated that he had sent you a new bodyguard since your job had been getting more intense lately. This should be the umpteenth guard that your dad hired, how are they supposed to protect you when every time you get into trouble, they can’t even take care of themselves.

You locked the door, kicking your shoes off before walking inside. Noticing a figure of a man sitting on the couch, you frowned. One hand holding the gun holster, the other finding the light switch. But they immediately fell onto your mouth when the man in question himself turned around due to the sudden light in the room. Your eyes went widen, still not believed in what you saw. He stood up, a coy smirk displayed on his face as he slowly approached you.

“You miss me?”

You looked him up and down, confirming that you were not dreaming, “M-Mark Lee? You’re alive?”

Your back is against the wall as Mark pressed his body on you, your faces were an inch away from each other. You’re babbling, dying to know how it’s possible for your long lost rival, Mark Lee, revitalized from his death and now standing in your house. Mark had been on the back of your head since the day you heard the news of his death from a combat. Apparently you’re supposed to hate him but that period of time was the darkest of your life, you practically couldn’t live without him.

He leaned in, his nose was brushing yours, “If I knew my appearance can earn that reaction from you, I would accept the job offer sooner.”

You tensed under his muscular body, his face plastered with arrogance. You squinted your eyes at him, “So you’re the body guard that my dad hired?”

Mark nodded, “Didn’t know that my death make your career path a lot easier. You’re the boss now huh?”

You pushed him away, you needed to go since you’re melting into his touch and that’s definitely not a good sign. You fixed your clothes before walking away.

“You can sleep on the couch or in the room next to the balcony. We’re going to the estate tomorrow.”, you called behind your back, “And don’t even think about breaking into my room at midnight.”.

You remembered that time you saw Mark sitting in front of your house with blood everywhere. You did let him stay at your place since he was terribly injured with two bullets in his shoulder and a gash on his ribs. He was super lucky to magically survive after that much damage, and you thought you could be a surgeon that you were phenomenally able to save him with some basic medical skills. Mark stayed with you for two weeks and literally broke into your room every night despite of your death threats and the locks on your door that you only bought because of him. You pathetically had no sleep at that time, how were you supposed to sleep peacefully when your hot enemy was pressing his chest against your back. You sighed, Mark Lee is the first bodyguard you didn’t kick out on the first day and the only bodyguard you let staying at your place.

—

You’re questioning yourself about the faith you put in Mark, your used-to-be enemy, that you actually allowed him to be your bodyguard and now you’re guiding him to your estate. What if he’s preparing for a terrorization?

“So why did you fake your death?”, you asked, only loud enough for him to hear clearly.

Mark glanced at you as he’s trying to find the perfect vocabulary for the situation, “The boss thought I’m a threat to the gang so they attempted to kill me many times, unsuccessfully though.”

“That you’ll murderer that coward and replace him? What in the mysterious novel is this?”, you laughed almost choked on your spit.

Everyone eyes landed on you and Mark when you stepped inside the building, the faint smile on your lips had soon faded away. They respectfully greeted you as you made your way to the office.

“What are you involved with?”

You heard him question when you’re in the elevator. Your fingers tapped on your lips,

“Pharmaceuticals”

“Drugs”

You darted your eyes at him as the word fell out of his mouth. “God, I’m trying to make it sound legal, no need to say it out loud like that.”, you gave him a warning look before continued talking.

“Automotive recovery and repair”

“Grand theft auto”

You’re not bothered to yell at Mark or whatsoever, as if he hadn’t done all that things.

“Defense trading”

“Selling illegal weapons”

You stopped a bit, looking at the number on the monitor screen of the elevator.

“And contract execution.”

The elevator was finally on the highest floor, which only has your office and the meeting room. You stopped at your track when you see a gap on your office door, you always remember to lock it up before going home, except it’s...

“Y/N!”

You almost passed out, you should’ve mentioned that you totally hate surprises. How do people find it’s funny when they scare the fuck out of somebody?

“Lee Haechan? When did you get here?”

You lost your balance when Haechan jumped on you for a hug, “Last night.”

You fumbled on your feet as the weight on you hardened your breathing. “God, do you always have to cling on me like that?”

His arms wrapped around your waist, he rested his head on the crook of your neck as he noticed the man that had been standing at the door frame.

“Who’s this? You better not cheat on me!”

You frowned, pushing Haechan away, “Cheat your ass! He’s my bodyguard.”, you turned around to look at Mark.

“Hey, you should go check the new people. If they mess up, I’ll kick your ass.”

You asked Haechan to leave before he continued making something up. You don’t know why he has a thing for pretending to be your boyfriend, sometimes cousin or even worse is step brother. He always knows how to get you into trouble and never take responsibility for that. You don’t know how come he’s your best friend and your assistant.

You locked the door after he already left, not care about Mark still froze at his space. You sat down, reorganized the stacks of papers on your desk.

“He’s your boyfriend?”

Your eyes flew up only for you to see that Mark was hovering over you, his hands pressed on the desk.

You looked back down, “Why would you care?”

He remained silent, you shrugged, unbothered by his question. Neither the two of you broke the silence first until you completed all the work, it’s already night time outside. You glanced at Mark, who’s sitting on the couch next to the window with his gaze focused on you. You flustered, wondering if he had been like that for 4 hours straight since you came to work after lunch.

“Let’s go.”

—

You’re walking to your car in the parking lot when someone familiar drew your attention.

“Jaehyun!”

You hollered while running towards the man. He caught you in his arms as you peck on his cheeks, which was not become unnoticed by Mark. He recognized the man, Mark had a few combats with him before.

You noticed the expression on Jaehyun’s face changed lightly when his gaze shifted. You knew what’s it about.

“He’s the bodyguard my dad hired, I’ll explain but I have to leave now okay?”

You gave him a small kiss on his lips before turning around, pulling Mark with you.

—

“Get out!”

Mark snarled when he finally pulled up in the garage. He walked out, leaving you confused in the car. Did he just yell at you? You gasped as the door beside you flung opened, he recklessly took off your seat belt before pulling you into the house.

“What the hell Mark?”

You asked when he pressed you against the door, still could not comprehend what’s happening.

“Shut up!”

He groaned into your ear, his head was on the crook of your neck, you squirmed as his hair tickled you.

“Have you done flirting with every man you meet? You want to be a slut so bad don’t you? You want Jung Jaehyun to fuck you right? And either whoever the man in your office was!”

Your body tensed under his, his breath hit your skin giving you some feelings. Both of your hands attempted to push Mark away by his shoulder but he didn’t move an inch. He left your neck to face you, his eyes gave you death stare.

“Mark take a fucking breath, okay?”, you muttered out. His eyes were still boring holes into you as you continued, “Haechan is my assistant and Jaehyun”, you stop, “I like him.”

“That jackass? That? Him?”

You frowned, “He’s not a jackass.”, you debated.

Mark grabbed you around the waist, “He doesn’t ever touch you again. Understand?” His tone was venomous. “You’re mine.”

You stood in silence as your brain functioning his words. His proximity to you was turning the heat in your veins from anger into something else.

“Oh yeah, Mark? I’m yours?”

“Mine.” His face was mere inches from yours.

You narrowed your eyes. “Fucking prove it, then, asshole.”

He tightened his grip around your waist and practically threw you onto the couch. You turned and tried to crawl away but he pulled you back down, forcefully, and slammed his hips into your ass. You could feel his erection straining against his trousers as he ground into you. You braced your hands on the couch as he kicked your legs apart and shoved your dress up around your waist.

“You want me to fucking prove it?”

He cupped your ass in his hands and squeezed hard before ripping off your lace panties and throwing them on the floor. One hand snaked around your waist to keep you from escaping while the other ran along your slit. Mark placed his finger in his mouth tasting you groaning lowly and then pulled it out with a pop. He kneeled down and ran his tongue along your slit before digging in. His tongue circling your clit before darting into your hole then going back. You moaned, your hands gripping the edge of the couch as you felt your orgasm fast approaching.

"M-Mark..." you whimpered as your legs started to shake. He groaned against you as he kept going, the vibrations making your mind go blank. "I-I-I'm... I'm go-gonna..."

He pulled away in a moment, leaving you undone. You whined, desperate to come. Instantly his hand came out and wrapped around the back of your neck pulling you close to him and smashing his lips into yours in a sloppy kiss, his tongue dominated yours as you can taste yourself on it. His other hand ran up your thigh until it reached your ass and he gripped a cheek roughly causing you to moan out.

“Do you think you deserve to cum? You acted like a slut so I treat you like one.”

He started to kiss and bite along your neck stopping every so often to leave some marks. You heard the metallic click as it was unfastened and then his zipper as he freed his cock. Then, in one motion, he slammed into your cunt.

“How about this, huh? Do you like my cock inside you?”

You gritted your teeth and nodded, Mark smacked your ass, hard. “Answer me, goddamnit. Do you like my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you breathed.

“Say it.” He began a slow but punishing rhythm, pistoning into you as hard as he could. “Fucking say it, Y/N.”

“Yes–Mark....” He punctuated each of your words with a deep thrust. “I – like – your – cock – inside – me – ”

“You like it when I fuck you hard?” he growled as he began to speed up.

“Yes… yes… oh God, yes,” you moaned, giving yourself over to the pleasure.

“You filthy fucking slut… you like it when I fuck your pussy from behind like this?”

“Yes! Mark, yes!” you could feel your climax already approaching as Mark reached down to rub your swollen clit with his hips slamming into you nonstop.

“Are you mine, Y/N?” he roared.

“Yes, Mark, I’m yours!”

With that, your orgasm tore through you, your back arching as your body pulsed around him. You had barely come down from your high when leaned over, “You should be grateful that I let you cum. Turn around, dirty girl. I want your mouth.”

Mark pulled out of you and you turned around kneeling in front of him, still feeling boneless. He grasped your hair and you let your jaw drop open; he bucked his hips forward and you could taste yourself on his cock. You sucked him greedily as he thrust forward.

He groaned as he emptied himself into your mouth; you swallowed everything Mark gave you before slowly licking him clean. He fell flopped himself onto the couch, shaking from the force of his release, before wrapping his arm around your naked body.

For a few long minutes, the only sound was your labored breathing as you tried to recover.

“Do you actually like Jaehyun?”

Mark mumbled but loud enough for you to hear, his breath was still heavy.

You leaned in to rest your head on his shoulder, your legs curled up, pressing against your bare chest. “Yes, but I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

His hand brushed your hair comfortably, “Why?”

“Didn’t you just claim me like two minutes ago? You can’t change your mind.”, Mark couldn’t help but giggled, he pressed his chin on your head. “Since when you have feelings for me?”, you looked up only to see his sharp jawline, his signature scent filled up your nostrils.

“I don’t know dude, may be that time when you held a dull dagger on my throat or when you attempted to shoot me with no bullet loaded in the gun.”

You slapped his arm playfully, “That was an accident!”

The room went into silence again, your eyes stared into the city outside of the wall of windows.

“Do you know when I figured out my feelings?”

Mark traced your fingers with his thumb, waiting for your answer. “I kissed Jaehyun because it’s the last kiss, I thought you don’t care.”, you intertwined your hand with his, “But I know you’re my everything the moment you I saw you sitting here, that my long lost hot rival is alive.”

©️  DREAMYKRAM. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

[earlgreydream]

concussion.

| bucky x reader | smut | fluff |

anon requested. A Bucky oneshot where she is riding his thigh and he acts as if it's such a nuisance and tells her to get on with it but without him to help or hold her down she falls...

cw: mild concussion/injury (not abuse)

You lingered in the doorway, and Bucky shot you a vicious look.

“I’ve told you how many times that I’m working? These manuscripts need to be edited and I cannot have you distracting me because you’re needy.” Bucky’s voice was sharp.

You were impatient, and so was he. You’d already disturbed him twice that evening, and his patience had worn out. You winced a bit at his tone, but it wasn’t enough to deter your pestering.

“But, Bucky,” you protested, digging yourself deeper.

“Get over here,” Bucky snapped, pushing his chair back a bit from his desk.

You quickly crossed the room, and he gripped your ass harshly. You squirmed at the bruising pain, rushing out an apology for bothering him.

“If you’re so desperate you can get off on my thigh.”

You practically whimpered but the look in his eyes told you that any more infractions would land you tied to the headboard and having your ass scourged.

You straddled him and he went back to typing, ignoring you entirely. He bounced his leg when you didn’t start, expecting him to hold your waist or move your hips like he typically did.

“I told you I have to work. Get on with it.”

You apologized and started grinding your throbbing sex down on his thigh, the friction making goosebumps raise on your skin. It felt good but it wasn’t enough, and you picked up your pace, struggling without Bucky’s help.

You squeezed your eyes shut and chased relief that was just out of reach.

Bucky gave you no help. He wasn’t truly mad at you, but he intended to teach you a lesson.

You moved faster, and you suddenly lost your balance, slipping before Bucky could catch you. You smacked against the desk as you fell, and Bucky gasped.

“Oh my fucking god, baby! Are you okay?! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think-” Bucky immediately panicked.

“I’m fine, it’s okay,” you said, but your cheekbone started to swell and discolor from where you’d hit the desk.

“No, come on, I’m taking you to the emergency room! Y/N I am so sorry!” He helped you up, and you promised him it was completely fine. But when he let go of you, you swayed a bit, feeling dizzy.

He helped you into joggers and carried you to his yellow car, knowing it would be faster than waiting on an ambulance.

“It’s really okay, Bucky. That wasn’t your fault, at all. I swear that I’m fine. And I’m not upset,” you tried to comfort your sweet boyfriend, who was an emotional wreck.

Bucky freaked out as soon as you arrived at the urgent care, stammering to the nurse about a head injury. They rushed off with you, running tests and asking questions.

“Bucky!” You cried, but they made him wait outside while you were examined.

“My vision is a little blurry,” you confessed to the nurse.

“Yeah, honey, you’ve got a pretty sick black eye and a very mild concussion. You gotta stay awake, okay? And ice your face.”

“Okay, sure. No problem. But I’m not in danger?”

“No, no. Just need to make sure you stay conscious for a bit. But I need to talk to you before you go. How did this happen?” The nurse looked serious.

“I fell.”

“I’d your boyfriend did this to you, you can tell us. We will protect you. You don’t have to lie for him.” She held your hand and you immediately shook your head.

“Oh my goodness, no. Bucky would never hurt me, this wasn’t his fault. It’s embarrassing, really. I was riding his thigh and I slipped and hit my face on the desk. He didn’t do this to me, I love him,” your cheeks burned with embarrassment and she looked amused.

“I’m glad it’s not him. You’re free to go, Miss Y/L/N.”

You walked to the waiting room, holding an ice pack to your face.

“Mister Barnes, make sure she doesn’t sleep for at least ten hours please. And she needs ice on that eye.”

“Of course. Let’s go home, doll.”

His voice was raspy from crying, overwhelmed with guilt.

“Hey, Bucky, look at me,” you turned his face toward you.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

You kissed his lips before he drove you home, and he melted into your touch. Once you were home, you changed into leggings and one of Bucky’s big hoodies.

He got you comfy on the couch, snuggled in his arms. You turned on Netflix, and he kissed the crown of your head.

“Can you ever forgive me?”

“Only if you promise not to make me ride your thigh without help again,” you deadpanned.

You felt bad for your joke when Bucky’s chest seized, and you turned and kissed his cheek, promising you were only teasing.

“It’s alright, Bucky. Just stay up with me.”

“Of course. I’m going to take care of you.”

[hxt1b]

Know Your Type

Jaehyun x Reader 

Requested Prompt 21 "you want me to go out with him" 

Genre: Angst, College AU

Warning: Swearing, Smut 

WC: 2.3k

Masterlist 

Prompt List, for any requests you guys may have. I'm currently taking them again!

A/N: I apologize for the grammatical issues I did read it over but some things may have still slipped through. 

I hope you guys like this, please let me know what you think! Feedback is appreciated. 

"I know what type of guys you like." Jaehyun boasted. You scoffed at him, he most definitely did not. 

"Fine then point at a guy you want me to go out with. Since you know my type so well. If you guess right I'll ask him out." You challenged. It wasn't that Jaehyun didn't know you. He did, he just didn't know who you liked because you couldn't look at him and tell him it was, in fact, him. 

Too many thoughts would go through your head every time you thought about telling him. The fact that he could reject you and then you'd lose a friend was terrifying to you. So you stayed quiet. 

"Him," Jaehyun said and pointed at a boy across the room, he was tucked into the corner an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips as he tapped away at his phone. 

You knew him, Lucas was a great guy. A great guy with a girlfriend. 

"You want me to go out with him?"  You couldn't help but laugh, your shoulder bumped into his as you did. 

"He has a girlfriend." You said, "Plus he's not the guy I like." Jaehyun froze next to you. 

"You like someone?" 

Suddenly the couch you were sitting on wasn't big enough for the two of you. You didn't realize you'd said that, he'd just been trying to demonstrate your type. 

"No." 

"But you said you did." 

You couldn't reply to that. So you just stared at him as his face lit up. 

"Tell me who." He said his face getting closer to yours. 

"No." You deadpanned, and he frowned. 

"I bet you I can get you to tell if you have enough shots." You narrowed your eyes at his challenge again. Before you let him know that it was game on. 

This was how you and Jaehyun worked. Playful bets placed practically all the time, every little aspect of life was a game, and honestly, you liked it that way. You liked the way he laughed when he won, the dimply smiles that would adorn his face for the rest of the day. You liked the way he pouted when he lost, the complaining that would ensue was also something you wouldn't change. You liked the way he answered your phone and if he missed the call he called back within seconds. You liked that he called you randomly sometimes, a random 'I bet…' followed by something insane would leave his mouth and you'd always play into it. You liked him, everything about him and you loved your friendship. It was hard but you wouldn't ever tell him you liked him. Because you couldn't give him up. 

Jaehyun and you sat in a random room in the house, a huge bottle of vodka in-between you. The bottle was once full, you'd and Jaehyun had drank a considerable amount. 

"So Y/N, who do you like?" Jaehyun asked his words slightly slurred, the effects of the alcohol in full force. You stared at him, taking in the lift of his mouth as he smirked at you, the way his left dimple appeared as he did so. 

You unconsciously were leaning into him. 

"And if I tell you what do I get?" You asked your hand digging into the carpet in between you as your weight settled onto it. 

Jaehyun lowered his head to yours so that his nose was almost brushing yours. 

"You get to know that your best friend in the whole wide world will wingman you." 

"And what if that meant you'd be wing manning me for yourself?" You asked, your voice soft as the words left you. 

Jaehyun looked at you slowly registering the words that left you. Anxiety rolled in your stomach as you watched him blink at you. 

Fuck.

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

You knew you shouldn't have told him. 

Jaehyun cleared his throat as leaned away from him. 

"You like me?" He asked, you turned your head away from him. Suddenly all the alcohol in your system was gone. You slowly nodded, not being able to look back at him. 

He cleared his throat again, the silence was drowning you as the discomfort in the room grew. Eventually, Jaehyun pulled his phone out of his pocket. Tapping at his screen a few times as he got up. 

"So I- I just got a text from Jungwoo he needs me." You closed your eyes. 

Fuck vodka. 

"I'll see you tomorrow." 

But you didn't.

You didn't see him for a week. The first day you left him alone, the second day you thought maybe something had happened considering Jungwoo had called him that night. So you texted him, he didn't reply. You texted him again only to be left on read. The third day you tried calling him, that failed as well. You very quickly realized he was ignoring you. 

He came into your shared class on Wednesday followed by Jungwoo, and they sat with you. But Jungwoo sat in the middle and Jaehyun left halfway through the class. You didn't try after that, you didn't know how. 

Your head hurt that day because you couldn't help but cry. You knew you were right not to tell him, you knew you were right about the fact that the moment you told him you'd lose him. 

The opening of your apartment door drew you from your thoughts. Doyoung walked in holding a bag of takeout in his hand. 

"You look like shit." He said as his eyes swept over you. You laughed at his words. 

"Thanks." 

Doyoung set the takeout on the coffee table before heading into your kitchen to grab cutlery. 

"He ignored me in class on Wednesday." You said as you looked down at your hands. Your eyes stinging again. 

"You'd think that he would know how to act like an adult. If he doesn't like you back he doesn't have to cut you off." 

You nodded, but he had. Because that was how Jaehyun was. 

"Every girl I become friends with always ruins it by falling in love with me," Jaehyun grumbled as he sat across from you. 

"Humble." You muttered. 

"I'm not joking like I don't mean it as a prick. I just mean I want someone I can be friends with, without them wanting to suck my dick." You looked at him your eyebrows raising. 

Eventually, you rolled your eyes, a chuckle leaving you. "You want a girl to not want you for sex. How ironic."  

"Listen I sleep with girls," He started. 

"A lot go girls," You interjected  

"But I don't pretend to be their friend." He finished. 

"Such a saint you are Jaehyun." 

You weren't close back then, you grew close though over the year since then. To the point that you were inseparable. Until now. 

"Whatever forget him, let's drown in food," Doyoung said, he didn't make it to the couch before the apartment door was opening again. 

Only two people besides you had a key, one of them was already in the apartment. 

You stared at Jaehyun as he looked at Doyoung. 

"Oh, you're here." He said. 

"Yes, I'm here," Doyoung replied. 

"Sorry, I shouldn't have just shown up I guess." He said and retreated out of the apartment. You stared at Doyoung, who let out a loud sigh. 

"Okay fine, go after him. I'm going to start eating though." You nodded as you shot out of your spot on the couch. 

Slipping into a pair of flip flips you charged out the door. The elevator closed as you rounded the corner. So you settled for the stairs. 

You looked crazy, you knew you did. You were wearing an oversized t-shirt with stains on it, you weren't wearing any pants you just had on your underwear. Your eyes were swollen from the crying earlier, and your hair was up in a messy bun. Well, half of it was. 

You stopped to breathe as you hit the main floor, your throat hurting from your lack of air. Somewhere in your brain, you were looking at yourself wondering what the fuck you were doing. But at the forefront of your mind was Jaehyun. 

You pushed out the doors seeing him walking to his car. 

"Hey!" You called running down the few steps as he stopped right beside his car. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" You asked loudly, as you charged towards him. 

"I-" You cut him off before he could even truly start. 

"No actually, fuck you. You ignored me for a week. Then you chose to show up without a text, let alone a call. So what I told you I liked you and that's it? You forced me to tell you!"  

You were frantic, and angry and needed to yell at him because if you weren't yelling you would cry. You didn't even care if the people sitting in their apartments heard the commotion and looked out. 

Jaehyun stood silently in front of you fiddling with his keys. 

"Am I really that awful, that if I did like you the only option you'd have is; run away?" You asked, finally letting your voice quiet down as your confidence faded. Your brain being hit with the fact that he may have come to grab his things. The few things he'd left around your apartment. Like his hoodie, his many pairs of socks, the t-shirt you were in right now. 

"No," He finally answered. His eyes finally coming up to your face. 

"Then why have you been ignoring me?" You asked, your eyes stinging again as you tried not to cry. 

Jaehyun took a step towards you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into him. You let him. 

"I had to think. I needed to think about what you said." He said, his head resting on top of yours. You thought about pushing him away. You thought about storming back into your apartment and leaving him here, but you wanted to be in his arms you couldn't push away. So instead you grabbed his t-shirt tightly and pulled him closer to you. 

"I like you too, Y/N." He spoke softly, "I was just shocked when you said it to me at the party. I didn't know how to react so I ran. I'm so sorry for ignoring you. I know I'm a dick. I know I'll have to make it up to you and I will." 

"You were shocked so you decided that not talking to me was the way to go?" You asked, your voice muffled into his chest. 

"I never said I was smart." He said making you softly giggle. 

"You like me?" You asked turning your head up and looking at him. He nodded down at you. 

"Yes." 

Maybe you were too quick to give in, maybe you weren't. All you knew was that a week's worth of trouble boiled down to a few words and you weren't willing to draw it out any longer. You could talk about it more later if you wanted to right now you just wanted him to hold you. You hadn't seen him for a week and you hated it. 

He pressed his lips to yours gently, cautiously. But you quickly deepened the kiss, letting your tongue move across his bottom lip before letting him push his tongue against yours. 

You moaned softly against him, your arms snaking around his neck as you pulled him closer to you. Jaehyun hit the side of the car as you two continued to kiss, his hands moving to your ass and pulling you flush against him. You could feel him hardening between you both. Your hips moving on their own grinding against him. 

His lips left your mouth leaving hot kisses down the side of your jaw. 

"It's cold." You whined as the cold air hit the trail of saliva he was leaving in his wake. Pulling his face away from you he unlocked his car. 

"Doy-" 

"He can wait." He said as he pulled open the back door and ushered you in. He scrambled in after you pulling you onto his lap as he did so. 

"Fuck your so hot." He said. You giggled down at him. 

"I'm in a stained t-shirt." You said as Jaehyun's hands crawled underneath it finding your boobs. You moaned when his cold fingers pinched at your nipples. 

Your hands went to his crotch, palming him through his sweats drawing soft grunts from him. You looked up at his face as he moved his hands to your face bringing your mouth back down to his. 

You pulled his erection out of his sweats bringing him to your clothed core and rubbing the head of his cock against yourself. Jaehyun hissed at your actions, his hand moving to the nape of your neck. 

Jaehyun's other hand moved towards your core, pushing your underwear aside so that he could feel you on his cock. He bucked his hips up towards you. You moaned against him as he began to move between your folds coating his cock in your slick. 

The tip of his dick hitting your clit with every move he made. Your mouth moved away from his, panting you looked down at where he was moving against you. 

"Fuck." You muttered. Your head spinning with each of his movements. 

A loud knocking on his car window scared you, your hands pulling Jaehyun to you as you both look out the car window. 

Doyoung was staring down at you both. 

"I'm going home." He said loud enough for you both to hear. "You two can move upstairs." 

You laughed down at Jaehyun as Doyoung walked away. 

"Were you going to leave after you fucked me?" You asked as you moved off him. Your brain going back to thinking in overdrive. Jaehyun grabbed your wrist pulling your hand to him and forcing you to look at him. His cock tucked away now. 

"I'm sorry I ignored you. I do not plan on doing it again. I swear." You nodded at him and got out of the car, waiting for him to follow you. 

"So you know what type of guys I like huh?" You asked as he used his key to get into your building. 

"Yeah babe, you like douche bags." He said and smiled down at you, dimples and all. You bit the corner of your lip to try to not laugh. Yet you laughed anyway.