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#that was slightly excessive I will admit
prince-liest · 24 days
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Woooooo, basil!
I couldn't resist getting nice matching pots like this once I found ones with a water drainage storage and that were actually well-sized for basil. I got the left plant from the Home Depot plant nursery and the right one from Safeway, and they're clearly different varieties of basil, but they smell and taste basically identical and I can't tell the difference aside from their appearance.
Anyway, the place I'm moving to in June is going to have a south-facing patio, so I'm really excited to be growing some stuff on it! It'll be these two basil plants, a sweet mint plant, and a sun sugar yellow cherry tomato hybrid, all in pots!
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flynnriderishot · 3 months
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fluff/ angst of the reader and matt getting into an argument over her talking to another guy or looking at his phone and then he realises it was never that deep and tries to talk to the reader but she’s stubborn then she finally gives in 😀😀😀
crazy accusations - m.s
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you sat on yours and matt’s shared bed with a frown on your face.
your boyfriend was ignoring you and after texting back and forth with nick, despite him being in the other room, you came to realize that he was acting jealous over nothing.
apparently matt noticed you were messaging back and forth with a guy friend — a friend that matt had only met once in person and after minimal observation, you could easily tell the boy was gay.
you weren’t sure if it was because of the stress he had recently taken on with their channel or what, but he didn’t bother to let you explain yourself (after nearly shouting his own head off) before he mumbled something about sleeping in chris’ room and you haven’t seen him in almost an hour.
nicolas 🤓
he’s just stressed. don’t worry about it
what we should be worried about is you setting me up with my future man
what’d he say?
you chuckled as you read the message, though before you could respond, the man of the hour walked in.
“you still talking to your boyfriend?”
“are you done being mean to me for no reason?”
matt scoffed, sassily rolling his eyes before kneeling down by the bed to grab his phone charger, “excuse me for thinking you were cheating on me after being secretive all day.”
“i wasn’t being secretive. in fact, before ran off of like a child, i was going to explain to you that i was texting the guy that nick likes.”
his shoulders fell.
he should’ve known that from the excessive giggling he was doing on the phone call with madi when he passed his room.
“nice to know that you’d think i cheat on you.”
matt sighed softly, placing his charger down on the bed before moving closer to you, “i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.”
you refrained from pulling away when he took your hands into his slightly bigger ones,
“i shouldn’t have accused you of something like that, i know you would never cheat on me. i’ve just been feeling a little stressed out lately and i took it out on you and our relationship and i shouldn’t have done that.”
you hummed softly, “i’m glad you’re realizing your mistakes because calling me a cheater is a crazy accusation.”
“i realized it when i walked in chris’ room and he went off on me for yelling at you.” he admitted, “i just wasn’t sure how mad you were so i waited to come in here.”
“and then when you came in here, you asked me if i was ‘talking to my boyfriend’.”
“i was being petty.”
“you were.”
his eyes darted between yours, almost as if he was trying to read you, “i’m sorry, baby.”
you knew he didn’t mean it when he accused you of cheating on him. you could see the immediate regret that flashed across his face once you scoffed at the statement.
“i guess it’s okay.”
“you guess?” he watched as a smile slowly started to take over your features.
“don’t disrespect me like that again.” you pointed a finger at him. and despite the smile on your face, matt could tell your words were serious.
he knew very well that he would heed your warnings and talk to you the next time he was feeling agitated.
just as he pulled you into a hug, nick’s voice called from outside the room,
“yn, what the fuck did he say?!”
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taglist: @hearts4chris @timmyandsturniolo @mayhem-72 @luvsturns @knowingnothingnoel @mrsmattyb @itzdarling @julliaaaaaaaaaaaaa @dracoflaco @heartsforchrisandmatt @lily-strnlo @alliehansson @stinkytwinkwinky @mstarniolo
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nymphomatique · 8 months
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Thinking about reader getting rejected by some guy and she gets drunk and loser nerd miguel is there to comfort her and she is like "miggy you are so much better than him!!" (She won't admit she said that when she is sober) and she is crying and saying embarrassing stuff she likes about miguel while he is trying his best to comfort her. Things like "i actually think the glasses are so cute" "i love how smart you are, always so helpful" and it escalates into things like "i love sitting on your face and seeing the glasses fog up" "your dick is big for a nerd, i love sucking you off" etc. And Miguel is like 😳
she is finally here!! had a blast writing this one 🤭
cw: drunk reader, reader gets rejected and gets shitfaced, miguel being a sweetie, unprotected sex, overstimulation, erm like pantie sniffing? 😭 idk, cunnilingus, creampie, squirting (because why wouldn’t there be it’s me whose writing this), slightly drunk sex (can be considered dubcon), switch miguel??, undercover feelings if u squint🕺🏽i think that’s it lmk if i miss smt. and as usual, not proofread ❤️ enjoy my luvvies
wc: 3.0k
your head was pounding. but that’s to be expected with the excessive amount of alcohol in your system paired with the booming bass of whatever song was playing at whatever club you were at.
you felt so disoriented. at the beginning of the night, you wouldn’t have shown up if you had known what was going to happen. you came out tonight with your sorority friends because you had your sights set on hobie brown. tall, lanky, and fucking gorgeous. all night, you had done your best to push your tits up in your skimpy dress and sway your hips to the song that had been playing at the club to no avail. he left you alone, feeling high and dry to hook up with one of your friends instead. seeing him make out with her in the shared booth you had all pitched in for bad made you feel slightly insecure. was there something wrong with you? you had chosen not to dignify that question with a verbal answer but rather with shots of tequila, and that had been 4 shots ago.
your head was spinning, and you felt so so warm in the club. in this moment you found yourself thinking of one thing only, miguel. you hated yourself for it. and when a mysterious double shot of vodka had appeared in front of you, the bartender saying some guy had payed for them with you, you downed them no question. the burn in your throat quieting the burn in your mind. but only temporarily. you can’t stop thinking about him. his curly brown hair, his plump lips, his cut nose, his eyes, and those glasses he wears. you find yourself missing him in this moment, yearning for him to make you feel better. you’re ready to go home.
you push yourself away from the bar counter, and the push sends you reeling backwards and onto your ass with an “oof!”. with the strobe lights, loud music, and moving bodies, you were nothing in the sea of movement and stimulation on the floor. you figure the floor is your best option at regaining some sense of orientation, so you pull your phone out and order yourself an uber home to the best of your ability. through your hazy vision, you open your messages, scrolling through your contacts until you find the one you’re looking for, under the name ‘four eyes’. without thinking, your thumbs start moving, and you’re pressing send periodically.
you figure you’re done, and you brace yourself to get up and navigate through the sea of bodies ahead of the exit.
in his dorm at his desk, miguel sat quietly studying for his upcoming molecular biology quiz, when his phone starts to buzz.
my love <3
1:22 am. — r y awsje
1:22 am. — awake
1:22 am. — my roon in 15
1:23 am. — pls
miguel looks at his phone, trying to decipher whatever gibberish you had been typing. he figures you mean to meet him at your dorm, a little escape between you two at this time of night wasn’t unusual, but never initiated like this. miguel bookmarks his page in his textbook before closing it, grabbing some water and ibuprofen with him before he makes his way to your dorm.
when he arrives, he sees you on the floor leaning against your door, barely awake. you perk up however at miguel’s footsteps, your eyes fluttering open and a small smile plastering across your face. “miguellll,” you exclaim, throwing your hands towards him. “dunno my room code. piggy back me!” you giggle, rather loudly at that. miguel smiles a bit, walking over briskly to shush you. “okay baby, but you gotta be quiet, yeah?” he smiles, taking you in so.. free. happy.
a smile graces your lips, eyes hazy and blinking, hair messy and unkept like the clothes you wore, but to miguel you were as beautiful as ever, even at your most unguarded. he watches you with a smile, knowing this will be the last time for a good while he’s going to see you like this. he kneels, placing an arm at your back, scooping under you arms, the other arm at the back of your knees. with a swiftness, he steps back up with you in his harms with no sweat, and as drunk as you are damn do you find it hot. your face burries itself in miguel’s pectoral, covered by his soft grey sweater.
you breathe him in quietly as your head the buttons to your room door beep and your handle twist somewhere distant. all you can think about is miguel. as drunk as you were, your eyes would always find the time to focus on him. the way butterflies erupted in your stomach as you saw him walk towards you in his plaid pyjama pants and his loose sweater, glasses atop his head. he looked tired as ever, probably busy studying quantum mechanics or something. yet, here you were in his string arms. miguel, miguel, miguel. you look up at him as he walks you to your bed, and you catch a look at his resting face. he naw tense and sharp, lips pursed, brows bushy and furrowed, his brown eyes sharp and attentive. you’ve never seen him like this. you like seeing him like this. your hand creeps up to his jaw, tracing the muscle and vein, in brief brushes as miguel finally sets you down on your bed.
you’re sat with your back parallel to the wall the length of your bed sits along, head leaning back and reeling in the coolness of the painted wall.
“you enjoy yourself back there?” he teases, smiling softly at you, beginning to undo your necklace clasp. you smile sheepishly, feeling warm and embarrassed you let yourself get caught staring and touching him like that. “s’okay. you know i love it when you touch me.”
and there it is. the sharpness and the bite in miguel that you’re not used to seeing, the miguel who makes your stomach burn with a look, makes your chest pound by saying things like ‘i love it when you touch me.’ he’s long gone from your neck, his nimble fingers at your wrists, unclamping your bracelets and slipping off your rings, placing an occasional kiss on your knuckles. and you sit in silence as he takes care of you, stripping you ever so slightly more bare than you were before, not just physically.
you watch and see the attentiveness in his moved, how he’s careful with you. he moves to take your shoes off next, kneeling as he does so. the begins to unbuckle one strap of your heel, focus built in his face as he does so. he pulls your shoe off, massages your foot, up to your ankle, up to your calf, stopping right as the burning you feel on your skin begins to pick up. you break the comfortable silence with the whisper of his name from your lips.
“yes, my love?” he hums, rubbing soft circles in your calves.
“you’re so good to me. make me really happy,” you murmur.
“yeah? you make me happy too.”
“not just that,” you begin, perking up a bit from your slumped posture. “you’re really smart. makes you really attractive.”
he keeps rubbing soft circles into your supple skin, but this time he’s looking up at you, a slight redness to his cheeks. adorable.
“you’re big n’strong too. carryin’ me like that to my bed,” you giggle. you lean forward, your face a few inches closer to miguel’s. “made my pussy fuckin’ wet,” you whisper at him, leaning back against the wall to watch him, a stunned look on his face. “my other shoes not gonna take itself off.”
miguel doesn’t let your comment phase him, at least beyond the physical sense, as he moves to take your other shoe off. and he repeats. unbuckle, massage, foot, ankle, calf, thigh- thigh? you watch miguel quietly, his hands rubbing and kneading into the meat of your lower thigh. higher and higher his hands creep, until they’re sitting right below the rolled-up hem of your dress. miguel looks up at you, waiting for a sign, an order. wordlessly, you let your legs spread apart.
miguel takes heed of your cue, and his hands gently trail up your thigh and split at its junction, each of his large hands latched onto your hips. he abruptly pulls you forward, and you let out a small squeak. miguel pays you no mind, his eyes on the prize present between your legs. he burries his strong nose into your clothed vagina, rubbing at your clit a bit and he inhales, moaning at the smell. your stomach tightens a bit and you feel both embarrassed and aroused at his display.
“smell as good as you taste.”
you bite your lip and snake your hand up to the thick head of hair in between your legs, pushing him closer to your panty covered wetness. “quit teasin’ me, you breathe out, miguel’s strong nose prodding at your clit. at your expression he moves to lick a stripe up your pussy, licking up the taste of you from your soaked underwear. you let out a soft exhale, feeling sated at the kitten licks miguel gives you. he trails up your clothed wetness once more, and moves the gusset of your panty to the side, exposing you to him.
ever anxious, you hold in a breath, ready and waiting for miguel. after a beat he finally places his mouth on you, delving between your folds and training up between them to reach your clit, which he sucks into his mouth hard. you can’t help but let out a moan, praising him for his work. “f-feels so good, migs. keep goin’ for me.”
and he does, licking and sucking and thrusting up into you until you’re writhing writhin his grasp and you find yourself on the cusp of your orgasm. that is until he pulls away. he’s sat on his haunches, mouth wet and face flushed, lust heavy in his eyes at he looks at you.
“please, mistress, can i make you feel good?”
you lean forward and grab him by his sweater collar, pulling him up to your bed, his face inches from yours. your lips ghost his as you whisper, “you always make me feel good.” you pull him in for a kiss, your lips hot and heavy against miguel’s, swirling your tongues between each others. when you feel void of breath, you break up the kiss, taking a moment to look at miguel until you push him back against the bed, throwing your leg over his hips so that you were straddling him.
“wanna know something else?” you begin, leaning your head down to kiss his cheek. “you always make me cum. with that big dick of yours.” you grind your hips against his, feeling him throb against your pussy even through his sweats. “you always make me cum, even make me wet the bed and squirt. no other man has done that to me.” you continue kissing and suckung his neck, being sure to leave the unmistakable mark of hickeys down his jugular.
miguel moans, his arms tensing and hips jerking up at the sensation and you giggle a bit. “want you to fuck me and make me cum with that dick of yours. hard.” you leave him with your words as you get off him, stumbling a bit, the remaining alcohol in your blood making itself present. you watch miguel, still laying against your bed and you strip for him. you pull your tight dress up and over your head, shimmying it off you until you’re only in your panties. you wore no bra.
at the sight, miguel gulps and raises off the bed, ridding himself of his pants and sweater in record time, until he’s naked in front of you. you peel your panties off of you, throwing them at miguel’s face as you walk over to him and push him back into the position the two of you were in once more. you’re sat on top of miguel’s hard length, laughing at his eyes peeking through the gusset of your lacy underwear. “bet you like havin’ my panties on your face,” you tease, running your hands up his chest, ghosting his hard nipples. he lets out a sharp inhale and you roll your eyes, grabbing your underwear off of miguel’s face. “open,” you command, and his jaw unhinges without a spare moment. you ball up the lace fabric in your hands and shove it in his mouth, biting your lip at seeing miguel like this.
“you’re so fucking sexy, especially now that you can’t talk.”
you decide you’re done teasing, ready to finally satisfy yourself, and you lift you hips up. “put it in yourself,” you tell miguel, and a muffled sigh comes out of his mouth as he grabs his cock, aligning it with your wetness. miguel’s eyes close and his hips jerk up, his fat tipping pushing through you. miguel grabs your hips, squeezing and his keeps going, pushing the entirety of his length within you. you moan, the stretch burning so good along with the slight rush of liquor running through you. you feel hot and lightheaded, and good. so good. when miguel is fully sheathed in you, you don’t give him a moments rest before you plant your hands on his soft pecks and push your hips up to slam them back down.
miguel let’s out muffled curses, and your breaths become to come out faster and shorter as your hips keeping going up and down. “fuckin’ love this cock. s’all mine. don’t ever wanna share you,” you moan out. miguel’s feet plant into your bed and he matches your thrusts, his hands pulling your hips down as he thrusts up into you, causing you to squeal. he’s hitting you deep and hard and you don’t know how long you can take it like this. in the midst of it all, one of miguel’s hands leave your hips to make its way to your clit, rubbing your swollen bud. your body tenses and shakes, and your feel your orgasm build itself up quickly.
“g-gonna cum,” you moan out, looking at miguel. you already find him looking at you, his face in utter ecstasy. your underwear in his mouth is darkened from his saliva, his forehead covered in a light sheen of sweat, his hair strewn across your sheets. he makes your stomach clench, and you feel yourself shake from your orgasm. miguel doesn’t let up, he’s still fucking you and prodding your clit. he’s determined to make you squirt, just like you told him to.
“oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, i’m- ah!” you babble, your brain beginning to fog. your first orgasm doesn’t even let up when you feel a second one hit you, and a groan leave miguel at you tightening and leaking around him. “h-hurts to good, please don’t stop baby please please please.”
he has you begging, the pleasure feeling too much. he’s still not done yet, his determination to make you squirt keeping him going. he flips you both, so that you’re laying against the bed, with him kneeling above you. you’re in such a deep haze that you don’t even realize until you hear miguel speak. he took your panties out of his mouth.
“gonna soak me? i need it, baby. you can do it, huh?” you hear him in your ear. your legs are over his shoulders and he’s pistoning into you and you just can’t. your head falls to the side when you feel a pressure build in your abdomen and you think you did it. liquid spurts from you, soaking you sheets and miguel’s stomach, and he lets out the deepest groan at the feeling. he’s still fucking you, hard thrusts and skin slapping. you feel light and you don’t know how much more you can take until miguel comes, and your hand weakly pushes at his stomach.
“move your hand, baby.”
you moan, the overstimulation becoming too much, and miguel assures you he’s close, almost there baby, hold on for me, yeah? and you do, you hold on even though you feel like his dick is in your throat and you’re gonna pass out if he keeps fucking you like this. you swear your prayers are answered when his thrusts slow, his moaning becoming erratic and loud.
“fuck baby, m’cumming. so good for me, mommy, so fuckin’ good.”
his warm seed fills you up and his thrust still, your back arches at the feeling and a small stream of liquid gushes from you again with a heavy moan. “fuck baby, you still squirting f’me” miguel groans. he pulls out of you slowly, the feeling causing you to shake a bit. when he’s finally removed from yoh, you close your eyes, feeling a kiss to your forehead and sleep pulling a cover over you.
the next morning, you wake up with a blistering headache and a soreness to your body that just pisses you off, more than the sun peeking through your blinds. you groan as you get up, your sheets falling off of you and you see you’re in a grey sweater. huh.
you turn to your bedside table and see that it’s 10:37 am, with a glass of water and two white pills next to it. you reach for them when you hear your room door open, and none other than miguel o’hara enters your room. he greets you with a smile and you scowl at him, noticing the bag of fast food in his hands.
“brought breakfast for you. thought you would, um, be hungry.” he says. you look at him, the scowl leaving your face, and you feel the itchings of a smile poking at your face. if miguel notices, he doesn’t say anything, but he drops the fast food bag on your bed and kisses your forehead, before he disappears off into your bathroom somewhere.
you fucking can’t stand him.
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izvmimi · 2 months
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cw: heavy angst, talk of children, childbirth and death, grief, bakugou is miserable tbh, izuku has an unnamed wife
a/n: sorry lol. also repost.
Izuku’s infant son looks disturbingly just like him, Bakugou realizes.
A bit small for age height-wise, but chubby nonetheless, with a shock of green wavy-curly hair. Large, green eyes. The freckles haven’t settled in yet, probably because he’s still too young, but the features are nearly the same. 
The kid also won’t stop kicking as Katsuki tries to fasten his diaper, and he’s getting a tiny bit frustrated. At least he’s not crying - thankfully, he doesn’t appear to have inherited the excessively soft disposition from his dad.
“You’re gonna have to be faster than that,” you joke from behind him. Bakugou finishes up securing the diaper, then glances at you and scowls. “Next time he’ll pee on ya!” you giggle while Bakugou gets the baby’s onesie back on then carries him so that he rests on his chest. He makes his way towards the bottle warmer - the baby isn’t crying now, but based on the guide Izuku’s wife gave him, this is about the time for his next feeding and he’s got a pair of lungs on him. It also doesn’t help that the toddler keeps nuzzling his face into his chest as though he’s trying to find a nipple to suck on. 
He does have to admit the little kiddo is cute.
“Did you check the temperature?”
You watch him carefully as he shakes warm milk onto the back of his hand, perched on the counter and swinging your feet gently. Bakugou doesn’t keep his eyes off of you as he checks, child cradled in his left arm.
“I know what I’m doing, princess,” he asserts. He has a little pout instead of a scowl instead, the one you’ve always thought was cute, where he communicates his disappointment that you’re underestimating his skill.
“Of course you do, love.” You smile widely, sweetly, as if you weren’t just micromanaging him. Not that he minds - when you hop off the counter and walk towards him, hands reaching upwards to caress his face gently, he can feel his face growing warm, even if your hands are disturbingly cool to the touch. 
You make your way to the couch first, nearly gliding along the linoleum that lines the kitchen, then along the impeccably clean wooden floorboards into the Midoriyas’ living room. It’s odd that you know this house so well, but you and Izuku’s wife had long been friends and spent many a night together in this very home when he and Izuku had been wrapped up in high grade missions and wouldn’t be home for days to weeks on end.
You flop onto the couch and point the remote to the television, even though it is already on, set to the news. Bakugou holds the baby in his lap as he sits down behind you and starts to feed him. You rest your head on his shoulder and to Katsuki, you are as light as a feather. 
“We haven’t had time together in a long while,” you whisper. 
Bakugou’s head tilts ever so slightly so that it rests against yours as well.
“You’re right. I’ve missed you,” he insists. There’s a quiet silence between you. It really has been a while that you’ve been able to sit together like this, despite being husband and wife.
“Are you fine with babysitting?” you ask. “Izuku was worried about asking you in the first place according to ___, and she had to convince him it was okay despite everything, insisting that it would be good for you-”
Katsuki interrupts your rambling with a kiss on your forehead.
“It’s fine,” he says, gruffly. Your lips pull into a sad smile.
“I’m sorry, Katsuki, I wish things had been different,” you say anyway.
Katsuki can feel his heart breaking, and instead focuses on the child in his lap, monitoring his progress on the bottle. He had wanted a child. He had wanted a child so badly, one that looked like him and you, and what had it brought him? 
The memory of you haunting him constantly, always there, but not really there.
When he looks back at you again, your form is starting to dissipate, as it does whenever he starts to remember you’re no longer on this plane of existence.
His hands are full so he can no longer cling to you - plus this has happened so many times before that he’s now nearly used to it - so instead he watches you go, numb, tears no longer falling from his eyes. After all, just for today, he has someone else to take care of, even if it’s for a short period of time. 
The kid is falling asleep in his lap now, and it’s just the two of them as Bakugou watches, but doesn’t really watch the shifting pictures in front of him. Being a godfather feels like an incomplete substitute for being a father at times, but it’s valuable all the same.
“Guess it’s just me and you, kid,” he whispers as he rises to put the baby to bed.
When the Midoriyas never return, and Bakugou signs the last of adoption papers, it rings again true.
The child laughs a little more now, unaware that his godfather now turned legal father sees three figures that aren’t really there instead of one now. Bakugou smiles as he throws the kid up in the air, realizing that misery might have helped him mourn you initially, but won’t keep the two of them safe.
“Guess it really is just me and you.”
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sunny44 · 16 days
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She’s mine
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Fem!reader
Warnings: just a sexy blurb.
Summary: Where Y/n makes a plan to get Max to finally admit that he likes her.
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The night was young, and the vibrant atmosphere of the club pulsed with electrifying energy. I walked across the dance floor, my scandalous red dress capturing the attention of everyone around me. I knew I was being excessive, but sometimes, being subtle simply wasn't an option.
My eyes met Charles's across the dance floor, and a mischievous smile played on his lips as I approached him. I knew Charles was Max's friend, and we had exchanged messages earlier for me to explain my plan to make Max act once and for all.
"Charles.” I said, my sweet voice laden with a suggestive tone. "Having fun?"
Charles winked, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He knew exactly what I as up to, and he was more than willing to help.
"Loads, but eager to see Max's reaction to your plan.” Y/n laughed, a melodious sound that echoed over the thumping music.
"Thanks for helping me, by the way. Your friend is a slowpoke."
"Yeah, I thought he would have made a move by now with the way you two act."
"Me too." He laughed, and I noticed Max finding me in the middle of the crowd, his smile evident as soon as he saw who was with me. So, I leaned close to Charles's ear and spoke. “Max is not liking what he's seeing right now. Do you think we should dance and make him even more jealous?"
"Well, what are we waiting for?"
And so, the two of us began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the music as my plan unfolded. I could feel Max's eyes on me, and it was exactly what I wanted.
I was determined to make him finally take action.
Meanwhile, on the other side of the dance floor, Max watched with jealous eyes ablaze. He knew I was flirting with Charles, and he couldn't contain the whirlwind of emotions consuming him.
He navigated through the crowd to the DJ booth, where Martin commanded the beats.
"Martin, turn off the music.” he ordered, his voice heavy with urgency.
"What? Why?"
"Just turn off the music for a minute, please.” he said, somewhat irritated.
Martin raised an eyebrow but nodded, understanding that something important was happening.
With the music dimmed, all eyes turned to Max as he pointed to Y/n, who was now illuminated by the spotlight, her red dress shining like a blazing flame in the club's darkness.
"Are you all seeing that girl?" Max's voice echoed through the club, and besides the light, he also pointed his finger at me. "Talk to her, look at her, or breathe near her, and you'll have a problem with me. She's mine."
I felt a shiver run down my spine as Max's eyes locked onto me, a wild intensity that made me tremble slightly.
But then I saw Charles's mischievous smile, and I knew it had all been worth it.
My heart raced as I saw Max coming towards me, maneuvering through the people who had started dancing again when Martin had turned the music back on.
"Max..."
He took my hands, pulling me close to him, and kissed me, and it was one of those breath-taking kisses.
"I know I've been an idiot all this time, procrastinating instead of asking you to be my girlfriend, but I can't deny anymore what I feel for you."
"Finally.” I say, and he looks at me surprised. "You really are an idiot, I had to plan with Charles to make you jealous so that you finally admitted out loud that you want me as your girlfriend."
"You two planned this?"
"Obviously, don't get me wrong, Charles is hot but not really my type."
"And what's your type?"
"Dutch, world champion, and completely clueless when a hot girl is after him." He laughs and pulls me closer.
"There are plenty of hot girls after me."
"Yeah, but I'm the only one who will get something else out of you." I whispered back and saw the hairs on his neck stand up.
"Wanna get out of here?"
"Definitely."
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Bonus scene!
Maxverstappen instagram stories
“She’s definitely mine”
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flicklikesstuff · 4 months
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Idk if anyone else has noticed this but no one brought it up so…..
Remember how Viv said that Husk refuses to embrace his demon form and thus, doesn’t use his wings often for flight?
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And yeah, we never see Husk fly at all prior to Ep 8. In Ep 3, we see him sneak away from the battle exercise, despite the fact that if Vaggie really did throw him, he could’ve easily just flown and skipped it. But he didn’t. And at least we know why.
(Hence, I just have this headcanon that Husk just secretly never knew how to properly fly ever since he first arrived.
Because he felt like he didn’t need to. He had his powers and can handle himself. He used to be a powerful Overlord. And even now, he’s currently under Alastor’s ‘protection.’ Basically, just never really found a reason to learn it, couldn’t be bothered, and simply just because….He doesn’t wanna.)
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But then the threat of the extermination came and everything he grew to care about was at risk. And what does he do?
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He flies.
For the hotel. For his friends.
He even went to see if his bf Angel’s alright. What a sweetie :))
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Since Husk presumably doesn’t do flying a lot usually, it makes sense his back would hurt so much from the excessive strain his wings had to do all of a sudden. He’s not used to this much of flying. Heck, even his poor wings completely drooped to the floor!
He literally gave his back out for his friends- :((
This is going to delve a little bit into headcanon territory from this point onwards. You don’t have to read down if you’re not interested. ⬇️
……..
So Personal Headcanon:
I like to think that in Ep 7, while Vaggie is away with Carmilla and Charlie with Alastor, the other 4 were up to their own shenanigans off screen.
I honestly thought their friendship didn’t get to develop as much as I wanted it to. Especially the interactions with Sir Pentious and Niffty weren’t a lot. The series just established them as close friends and expects us to just take it as word but didn’t really show it much. Maybe Pentious’ death would hit harder if we actually saw him get closer to the others rather than being made fun of all the time.
Anyways, back to the HC, these 4 bonded some more while boarding the place. (Awww, all without being told by Charlie).
And since they knew they’re going to be up against FLYING angels, Angel commented that Husk’s wings can be put to good use for once, rather than just being displayed.
Husk was insecure and got defensive at first, eventually sheepishly admitting he doesn’t know how to use them. Slightly opening up how he hates his current form. While Angel and Pentious were confused at first, they both didn’t make fun of it any further. (Because yay! Development! Charlie would be proud.)
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Husk warms up a little and claims that “Fine, he’ll try for the hotel’s sake but this is a one time thing…blah blah blah.”
Cue Pentious using and teaching his ‘expertise’ on flight from his machines. Angel smirking every time a clueless Pentious discusses the forces of “Lift, Drag, Weight and…ahem. Thrust.” Meanwhile, Husk attempts to ignore Angel but fails to resist smirking back at times. (Because I know Huskerdust fans love collecting crumbs) And later on, Niffty insisting she wants to be the one to push Husk off the balcony for practice.
Which, she does. On Angel’s count of 3. But she pushes him before Angel could even begin counting. Pentious debating and suggesting whether it’s better for the trial to do it ON 3, BEFORE 3, or start from 1. Regardless, Niffty messes each trial up. And Husk is just regretting everything in this nightmare his 3 friends call “training.” This is just one of their many shenanigans btw.
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Eventually though, Husk did get the hang of it….somewhat. He could glide, take off and hover. But couldn’t really stay up long or fly high because his muscles and stamina for flight are terrible since he doesn’t do it often. Thus, why Husk stays very close to the ground during the final battle and only flies short distances. But the 4 considered it good enough.
(Angel made a joke on the “lack of stamina,” and got thrown in the face by a bottle. But yeah, all of them had some fun to a degree and became more emotionally bonded. All before Charlie and Vaggie came back with backup. Woohoo!
Hopefully they won’t see a particular snake die in front of their eyes-)
If any of y’all want to make a fic of this concept, be my guest. The only condition is that you share me the link :))
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itadorey · 10 months
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𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐍𝐘
pairing: gojo satoru x reader summary: shoko lets something slip to gojo and nanami loses a whole lot of money. genre: fluff, attempts at humor wc: ~1.2k warnings: mentions of alcohol, lmk if i missed any more very much a word dump, apologies.
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"stare any harder and you're going to burn holes into nanami's head."
shoko's words draw gojo's attention away from you, and he shoots her a glare over his sunglasses before turning away.
"i'm not staring," gojo mutters, leaning back in his seat and crossing his arms. he does his best to ignore shoko's amused looks, which isn't hard when he hears your laughter from across the room. his eyes flit over to you, watching as you toss your head back and laugh, one hand on nanami's arm as he sits next to you. there's a barely visible smile on the blonde man's face, and gojo finds himself scowling at the sight.
"c'mon, don't be like that," shoko chides, holding back laughter as she watches gojo pout. "you know nanami is their best friend."
"but i wanna be their best friend," gojo whines, looking back at shoko when you turn your head in their direction. she waves when she notices your gaze, smiling when she sees your gaze linger on gojo.
"no you don't!" shoko proclaims, shooting gojo a knowing look. "best friends don't usually want to kiss each other, for your information."
"i do not want to kiss them," gojo cries out, hesitating when he sees the blank look on shoko's face. he cringes slightly, straightening up before scoffing lightly. "i don't know what you're talking about."
"sure you don't."
"wait," gojo's embarrassment fades as a wide grin spreads across his face. he fixes shoko with a victorious look, blue eyes boring into her as he leans in. "you said 'each other'."
"w-what?" shoko asks, freezing as she realizes she's fucked up. she fidgets with her drink, avoiding his gaze as much as she can. "no i didn't."
"yes, you did," gojo replies, reaching over and stealing her glass. he takes a sip of the drink, face twisting in disgust when he realizes it's straight liquor. "ew! what is that? actually, don't answer that. it doesn't matter. anyways, you said 'best friends don't usually want to kiss each other' which implies that they also want to kiss me!"
"so you admit you want to kiss them?"
"yes!" gojo says, chest puffing up with pride as he takes a sip of his own drink this time. shoko swears she can see the excess sugar swirling in the supersaturated liquid. "but only because now i know they like me."
"oh god, what have i done," shoko breathes, downing what was left of her drink. gojo send her an incredulous look when she doesn't flinch and she chooses to ignore it in favor of rubbing her temples.
"this is great!" he says, swirling his cup around before offering it to shoko. she waves him off with a look of disgust. "so what is it that they like? my good looks? my strength? oh, i know! it has to be my charming personality!"
"gojo, please just shut up," shoko finally says, exasperation laced in her tone. "okay, fine. they like you. so what? it's not like you're gonna do anything about it."
she goes silent when gojo finishes off his drink, putting the glass down before dramatically slamming his palms on the table and standing up. there's a glint in his eye that makes shoko sigh, and she settles back into her seat, waving the waiter over and ordering double of whatever had been in her cup before.
there's a brief moment of confusion in nanami's eyes when gojo approaches the two of you, greeting you with a bright smile and merely sharing a head nod with him. gojo wastes no time in tilting his head towards the table shoko is still sitting at, sipping on her new drink as she watches the interaction unfolding in front of her.
"nanami! you need to go," gojo says, the smile on his face not leaving as he stares the blonde man down. "shoko needs you."
"she seems just fine on her own," nanami says coolly. he's noticed the way gojo hasn't stopped looking at you since you walked into the restaurant, and he definitely noticed the way his mood soured when you joined nanami for a drink at the bar. he can't help but push his senior's buttons even if it's just for a few minutes.
"no, no, no," gojo says, waving a finger in front of nanami's face. "she said she could outdrink you, and i couldn't just let her talk down on you like that! you need to go defend your honor."
there's a moment of silence as nanami stares blankly at gojo, blinking twice before letting out a deep sigh. he shares a confused glance before sliding off his seat, downing the rest of his drink before leaning in close to you.
"good luck with him."
he's gone before you can respond, and you watch him slip into gojo's old seat as the blue-eyed man takes the stool next to you. he waves the bartender over, ordering another round of drinks for you and a sugary soda for himself.
"how nice of you to defend nanami's honor," you say dryly, the smile on your face letting gojo know that you're not truly annoyed with his antics.
"well you know, i had to save you from those awful jokes of his."
"i dunno," you say, thanking the bartender when your drinks are placed in front of you. "i think nanami is hilarious. he's not bad company to keep."
gojo watches as you take a sip of your drink, blindly reaching for his own glass but not bringing it to his lips.
"but you're better."
those three words are enough to bring a soft smile to gojo's face, and he chuckles before taking the opportunity to lean in close to you.
"oh, am i now?"
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across the room, nanami and shoko watch as gojo tries to flirt with you.
"i bet you all the drinks it takes you to get drunk that he doesn't ask them out."
shoko gives nanami a dry look, her mouth twitching at the corners as she looks back to the bar. "you know what? i'll take the bet. something tells me it'll be different this time."
"you know something i don't," nanami says, his tone accusatory as he follows shoko's gaze. he's met with the sight of gojo's arm around your waist, a faint blush on his cheeks as you lean into him. nanami watches as gojo says something, his cheeks darkening even more as your eyes widen in surprise. there's a brief moment where time stands still, and it ends when you lean up and press a kiss wherever you can reach, which just so happens to be gojo's jaw.
"i might have let it slip to gojo that they like him," shoko admits, giving nanami a sly look. he scowls at her, shaking his head before letting out a soft sigh in resignation. shoko laughs at his reaction, already waving her hand to call the waiter over once more. there's only two glasses on the table so far, and nanami knows that shoko is no lightweight. he prepares himself for a long night as she turns to face him, a rare, mocking grin on her face.
"pay up, mr. salaryman."
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reblogs are appreciated &lt;3
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strangersmunsons · 4 months
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Eddie, My Love! eddie munson x reader // valentine's day special series Day 1 Prompt: Flowers 💐 ~ 1,000 words Eddie surprises you with a bouquet of flowers.
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You sigh as you trudge to the front door, stomping the excess snow off of your boots before entering the house. After a long, cold day, all you really want is to curl up on the couch with a cup of hot tea. 
All your outerwear is stripped off and hung, melted snow dripping little puddles on the hardwood floor. You quickly change into a pair of comfier clothes, seat yourself in the living room, and flick the TV on.
You’ve made it halfway through one episode of mind-numbing television when the front door pushes open again.
Eddie’s here.
You’re still getting used to that. There used to be someone, then for a long time there wasn’t anyone, and then Eddie came into your life, which meant that someone was…here, again.
He looks handsome, as he always does, when he comes in and finds you. He’s all warm, dimpled smile and puppy eyes, and the bit of scruff he neglected to shave off gives you a delightful scratch when he leans down and kisses you hello.
One hand is carrying a crinkly plastic bag, which he holds firmly behind his back, while the other hand softly cups your cheek. 
“Hey,” he says quietly, rubbing his nose lightly against yours.  
“Hi,” you whisper back, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Did you stay warm today?”
“I did. Had my hand warmers and everything,” he reassures you. 
You give him a little squeeze. “Good.”
He kisses your cheek. “By the way, I have something for you,” he says slyly, straightening back up. 
You blink, confused. “Oh?”
He pulls the bag out from behind his back, holding whatever the object is from its bottom. Then he bunches the plastic down around his fist, so you can get a clear look at what’s inside.
Eddie is holding a bouquet of flowers. 
It’s a mix of large and small blooms, ranging in color from white to pale pink to deep maroon. Some are roses, and you guess at the others. You think the small ones might be baby's breath, and the larger ones, dahlias, perhaps? You’re not sure. Whatever they are, they’re beautiful.
You simply stare at the fragrant blossoms, lips slightly parted.
“Sweetheart?” Eddie asks gently. “You good?”
“Yes,” you manage, an awestruck smile slowly unfurling across your face. “Those are for me?”
Eddie laughs kindly. “Of course they are,” he teases. “You see anyone else in here?”
A wave of unexpected emotion washes over you, and a lump rises in your throat. You rub at your temple with a shaky hand, embarrassed by your own intense reaction.
“No one I’ve been with has ever gotten me flowers before,” you admit.
Eddie visibly softens. “Well, I don’t know how that could be, but I’m honored to be the first.” He removes the grocery bag entirely and lets it drift to the floor, handing you the bouquet. “Thought it’d be appropriate for today.”
“Appropriate,” you murmur, sniffing delicately at a silky rose, eyes shining with happiness. “What do you mean?”
“Uhh…have you looked at the calendar today?”
Something in his voice snaps you out of your reverie, and you drag your gaze away from your pretty flowers to his amused expression. 
He cocks his head to the side. “It’s the 14th, baby.”
It takes a second, but it finally dawns on you. Your heart lurches.
“Oh my God,” you mumble. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t even realize —”
Eddie cuts you off with a wave of his hand. “That’s okay. We don’t have to make a big deal out of it. I’ve been meanin’ to get you flowers at some point, anyway.”
His smile tells you that everything is okay. You decide to believe it.
You hold the bouquet delicately, handling it as though it were priceless. Eddie follows you into the kitchen, where you pull your only vase out from its place beneath the sink. You blow a speck of dust off the glass rim, and fill it with water.
Then, after carefully peeling the cellophane away from the bundle, you lay the flowers aside on the counter. 
“You have to cut the stems at an angle, so they absorb the water better,” you explain to Eddie as you rifle around the junk drawer for your kitchen shears.
Eddie watches your ministrations with tender affection. “Oh, yeah? How does that work?”
You pause your movements. “I don’t know, actually,” you confess. “That’s just what my mom taught me.”
You proceed with cutting away the excess stems, and move the flowers into the vase, trying to arrange them exactly as they were when Eddie presented them to you. When they look right, you place them in the center of your kitchen table.
“There.”
Eddie stands back and admires your handiwork. You step in front of him and move in close, so that your middles are nearly touching.
“Thank you, Eddie. They’re really beautiful.”
Your eyes are wide, desperate for him to understand the gravity of the gesture, and how very much it means to you. 
But he knows. He always knows.
He closes the space and pulls you in tight, wrapping his arms around you, so that his hands settle at the small of your back, fingers laced together so as to keep you there forever.
“Do you really like them? ‘Cause when I was at the store, I had a way bigger one at first. It was all huge red and pink flowers. And then a lady in the checkout line told me I should pick a different one, since carnations are apparently tacky.”
You press your face against his chest. “That’s silly. I’d like your carnations too, Eddie.”
“‘They’re filler flowers,’ is what she said.”
You chuckle at his disgruntled tone, and the sound muffled is against his t-shirt. “Nevermind her. And to answer your question, yes, I really like them. I love them.”
Eddie notches a finger under your chin and tilts your head upwards. “I love you,” he tells you for the first time, and presses a sweet kiss to your lips.
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thank you for reading!! xoxo Valentine's Day Special Masterlist
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makncheese12 · 11 months
Text
Locked up
Request: Can I have uuuhhhh…. A45 - person A being a small ball of aggression while person B is a big teddy bear with Tara Carpenter as Person A (maybe not agressive but how Tara is, maybe a bit grumpy and moody) and Reader as person B? And also maybe that R is Flustered around Tara ◡̈
Warning: suggestive themes, Tara being kinky, bad words and that’s it I think?
A/N: I just figured something out and I love doing it sm.
Part 2?
Tara Carpenter x G!p!reader
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A fight between Tara and Sam is always hell, both trying to always be right which made it all go in a constant circle. You were usually the main cause of them and because of that they seemed to be getting more and more frequent as Tara healed over time after Woodsboro. The aftermath was always you having to listen to Tara rant in your own apartment not too far from their shared one.
And every time you took it upon yourself to tell Sam she was with you knowing the older carpenter was probably freaking out each second Tara was gone. She tried to hate you for it — how you would rage along whenever she would sneak off to parties or sneak into their apartment or sneak Tara out — but it was no use, you were too sweet and always protected Tara so she settled for subtle glares and small comments whenever you were near.
The relationship itself confused Sam and many others around you. While you were quiet and reserved, Tara was out going and wanted to be out there. Which made her wonder why you just followed her where ever she decided to go.
Let’s not forget the size difference. How could she?When she first met you at the hospital she had to admit, she was both surprised and intimidated but you seemed to be far more intimidated by the older sister. Your personality was completely different from your looks which made everything far more confusing to the girl.
How can someone so big be so soft for her grumpy short sister? She had no clue.
But here you say on the couch at a random costume party hosted by some chick you’ve never met with a red solo cup full something you didn’t dare ask when Chad gave it to you in your black tank top and orange cargo pants dressed as a prisoner, per Tara’s request to match her. It was Tara’s way of rebelling against her sister and to prove that she was her own woman.
Music blaring loudly, the entire house dark with flashing lights, and people moved and danced closely. Something you weren’t fond of but still went along with the group because Tara seemed so excited about it.
In the dark room you catch sight of Chad in his zombie football player costume, a classic and boring one but then again it was last second. And not too far behind him was Ethan in his… Yoshi costume… the large hat stuck out and you began to realize why he didn’t have a girlfriend, he made up for it with his awkward charm though.
You had a few shots with the two and allowed Chad to make you a drink mixed with different things you dare not drink out of before slipping away onto the empty couch.
That left Mindy, Anika and Tara who were most likely somewhere playing a game having something to do with alcohol.
Suddenly, a girl in a Mario costume takes a seat next to you. At least she could have made it look cute, it was just a red t-shirt with an ‘M’ on it and black shorts.
Another group stood nearby watching and giggling. You notice another girl who wore the same thing but as Luigi. Oh great.
A few beats of silence goes by before she speaks. “Hey, do I know you from somewhere?” she asks with a smile before leaning in and as soon as she does your nose is filled with her excessive amount of body spray. Not even the good kind.
“Uh,” you start before looking through out the dark room to see if you can find any of your friends but not even Ethan’s Yoshi hat was in sight. “No, I don’t think so?” You say, slightly scooting away from the girl and sipping your drink, face scrunching up after taking your first sip not knowing how strong it really was.
Another best of silence, the music sending vibrations through your body. “Oh, I know!” She yells and you flinch slightly, not sure how she managed to make her voice louder than the music that shook the house but she did.
“You’re that cute tall girl in my astronomy class!” She says and your eyes snap to the side giving her a side eye glare. You didn’t recognize her from the class but then again you didn’t exactly pay attention to the people, not trusting anyone enough to make new friends.
Now you see what Sam meant when she called you ‘anti-social Godzilla’ the other night when Tara made you stay the night with her.
“You, like, sit in the back of the class.” She says excitedly and scoots a little closer. Too close for comfort, your face scrunches up slightly from the mass amount of perfume wafted into your face as she gets closer, saying something you could no longer hear as the music suddenly got louder and the DJ spoke into his mic.
“Huh?” You call out as her mouth continued to move but nothing really comes out or rather you don’t hear anything. This seems to make her move closer, a bad choice in the eyes of the brunette who watched not too far away.
Anger couldn’t describe what she was feeling as she watched the girl lean closer toward you. She would never admit to being jealous out loud but here she was, watching your face scrunch up as you tilt your head at the girl.
It wasn’t often she felt this way, not at all. Even before you started dating you didn’t show any interest in anyone else but her and that’s exactly how she got you to ask her out so she didn’t have to. And even now she trusted you never to betray her trust but that didn’t stop others from pursuing you anyway.
And that made her blood boil. How could they not know your taken with the necklace that had her initials on it? Or the fact that you had faint hickeys on your neck left by her? Maybe they just took advantage of the fact that you were a push over or they were just dumb.
That’s what this blonde bitch must have been. Straight up dumb.
She had seen her staring at you on campus and made it her mission to show that you were together by being all over you. Holding your hand, hugging you, kissing you, sitting in your lap, all of it. But apparently that just wasn’t enough.
“I think we should jump her.” Mindy says out of no where, face close to Tara’s to see what she was looking at. She was slightly crouched down and looked stupid doing so in her miles morales spider man suit as it bunched up in different places.
“Me too.” Tara huffs out as she crosses her arms, a small smirk appears on her faces as you pull away as the girl gets closer.
“Or you could just intervene without getting physical by pulling Y/N away.” Anika interjects in her spider Gwen outfit as she takes a shot.
“I like Mindy’s idea better.” Tara says, narrowing her eyes as the girl gets closer once again. “I’ll start by pushing her down and we can start kicking, Anika can record.” Mindy gums out as she stands up straight.
Tara definitely liked the idea, and even more so when the girl placed her hand on your arm.
“Don’t instigate, you’ll make her want to lock up Y/N for the night.” Anika hits Mindys chest as she gets closer, holding another shot before gesturing to Tara’s police costume.
Tara’s eyes light up at the idea and suddenly she was glad she went full cop mode with her costume. Taser and pepper spray that Sam forced her to carry around on her hips along with a radio, fake gun or rather it’s holster, and a pair of hand cuffs.
Oh, she definitely liked that idea and Anika smirked at the face Tara made when she suggested the idea.
Tara quickly took the handcuffs out of her belt loop and cuffed one of her wrist before making a beeline for you and just in time for the girl to get even closer. This fueled her speed of getting to you.
“Shoot me a thumbs up if you change your mind and want to go with plan A!” She heard Mindy’s voice faintly as the music blared in her ears.
As soon as she was close enough she hooked the other half of the hand cuffs onto the wrist the was holding your drink and locked it in, she then let go and stood up proud of herself as she glanced at you.
A confused look was spread across your face as you stared down at the hand cuffs connecting the two of you before looking up to her.
She couldn’t help but smile as a dark shade spread across your cheeks as you stared up at her, eyes wide and confused.
Her eyes snap to the girl before narrow at the annoyed look on her face. Why was she annoyed for flirting with her girlfriend. Tara felt the growing need to look back to Mindy and give her that thumbs up.
“Oops,” she says, voice sharp as she glares at the girl. “I slipped.” She sarcastically through gritted teeth as the girl rolls her eyes.
Who did this chick think she was? She couldn’t have thought you would even think about her with that basic ass costume and paint for make up.
“Don’t you have a key or something?” The girl says back, voice full of annoyance. She knew what she was doing and that was enough to make Tara want to be ghostface herself.
“I left them at home.” Tara replies before yanking your hand up to pull you up but it only caused you to drop the drink onto the floor.
“I’m thirsty and you’re all out.” She says her eyes snapping back to you as your eyes focus on the red seeping into the carpet on the floor. “Let’s go get a drink.”
You quickly got the memo when Tara pulled again but less harshly before standing up.
She smiles slightly up at you before sending the girl one last glare before slipping her bandaged and cuffed hand into yours and pulling you away.
“You slipped, huh?” You ask in a teasing tone as Tara pushes through the crowd with a huff. You apologize to the people who look back at her with a glare and move past them without bumping into them as Tara continued to shove her way through with slight resistance but she got through eventually with enough force.
“I am quite clumsy.” She replies as you near Mindy and Anika who have started a game of cup pong with two boys.
“Y/N! Great to see we didn’t have to jump a few girls to save your socially awkward ass.” Mindy replies before looking down to you and Tara’s cuffed hands.
“I didn’t take you for the kinky kind of couple.” Mindy says wiggling her eye brows before laughing when Anika hits her chest.
Tara’s eyes lightly up for a moment before quickly hiding it and smiling. Another idea for later.
Another wave of heat fills your face as you look down at Tara. Her police her was too large for her and was tilting slightly as she smirked not bothering to fix it. You would have thought it was adorable but at the moment you were a little embarrassed. “Did you actually leave the keys at home or we’re you joking?” You lean down and whisper into her as the music continues to blare, the action made her shiver lightly as her ears tinted with a pink hue.
“Oh, I have them.” She says casually as she picks up her drink she had before rushing off to get you. “But I’m not unlocking the cuffs until we get home.” She says as she holds up a red solo cup to her lips as leans into your front as she watches the game of cup pong.
You sigh out before smiling at her sudden possessiveness. It was often you got to see it but every time it always made you feel special that she wanted you all to herself.
You chuckle lightly before wrapping your arm around her and watching the game yourself as you rub her skin and bandage soothingly to help calm the girl down.
————
“Wait, just slow dow-“ you start as Tara pulls your wrist harshly as she climbs up her fire escape as quietly as possible before letting out a hiss as the cuffs pinch you lightly.
“Shit! Sorry, sorry..” she says as she lowers her wrist so you no longer felt the force of being pulled up. She had insisted on keeping the cuffs on and you were beginning to wonder if she actually had the keys.
You had been pulled around all night so your wrist weren’t exactly fond of the smaller girl, especially when she made you fall a few times through out the night and pull herself down with you.
“Why didn’t you just take them off before we started crawling up?” You whisper yell as she continues her way up, her back side pressed up against your front now and you can’t help the blush the forms as her ass presses up against your pelvis area.
“I wasn’t thinking!” She whisper yells back as you both make it up to her window. “Plus, it’s cute when you blush like that.” She giggles as your face grows redder before pulling you into her room.
The lights were off in the hall around the apartment as you slipped in and nothing seemed disturbed other than the fact that you and Tara would have a hangover in the morning but you could cover that up easily.
You sigh out as you take a seat on the bed and Tara fumbles into her pocket before pulling out the keys and unlocking the cuffs with a small frown.
You rub your wrist as you watch her make her way toward her closet, peeling off clothes as she did so.
You smile lightly as you watch her pull down one of the hoodies you gave her and pull it over her head before pulling down your cargo pants and letting them hit the floor.
She quickly makes her way back to you as you scoot up the bed before straddling your waist and burying her face into your neck and letting out a soft but long sigh. You chuckle lightly as you wrap your arms around her
She felt exhausted after pulling you around most of the night, keeping you close as you danced and drank the night away. But now she was regretting it slightly as her wrist aches and her body relaxed into you as you scratched her back.
She let out another sigh before her mind wandered back to the girl who had the audacity to try her shot with you. She slowly felt the jealousy creeping back up into her and her exhaustion left as she bit you lightly.
Your body jolts slightly as her teeth connect to your skin and she can’t help but smirk as she feels something move on your lower abdomen.
“Tara…” you say in a warning tone as she eyes the hand cuffs on her bed side table. “It’s late and everyone’s asleep, so we should be too.” You sigh out as your grip tightens on the smaller girl, blush creeping into your face as you feel your own erection push against your boxers and onto her.
To this day you are astonished by this small girls strength and speed as she pulls out of your grasp and grabs something off the table. You let out another before a loud clinking catches your attention as she slides up from your waist to straddle your stomach.
Your eyes snap to her hands as she grabs your wrist and pushes them against her bed frame, slipping one cuff on and sliding it behind the railing and slips it onto your other.
You stare up, shocked by the sudden movements and their results. You yank lightly onto the cuffs and the bed frame moves, hitting the wall gently making a small noise.
Tara quickly grabs your hands and holds them still, a glare on her face as she looks down at you.
“T-tara..” you sputter out as blush once again forms across your cheeks.
“Shh,” she says leaning down, hands still on yours as her lips graze yours. “Wouldn’t want to make too much noise, now would we?” She says teasingly as a smile stretches across her face as her lust filled eyes look down into your worried ones.
“What if we get caught?” You ask, eyes locking onto the door where same could walk in any moment and catch you in such a state.
She presses her lips against yours harshly, one hand moving the your jaw as the other stays on your bound hands. Your lips move in sync as the kiss deepens further, her body pressed against yours and she slowly feels your cock harden as she does so and she can’t help but smirk lightly at how easy it was to get you going. She hadn’t even touched you and yet here you were, ready for her to start.
But there was no doubt in her mind that she was still going to touch and tease you first before starting.
The thoughts of Sam walking In immediately leave as you let out a small whine and pull against you restraints, desperate to touch the girl above you. Tara’s hand tighten on yours and her teeth nip your bottom lip. You open your mouth slightly from the sudden intrusion and she takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.
Oh, this was going to be fun. Will it cause yet another fight between her and her sister? Yes. Does she really care at the moment? Absolutely not.
She’ll just use this as another excuse to rebel against the older Carpenter.
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obsessive-evie · 5 months
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you’re pretty is all
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pairing: Kate Martin + fem!oc
word count: 3.2k
warnings: smut, explicit language
“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on.
You see, we have recently discovered that Kate cannot handle praise. At. All.
It happened one day on accident, I was just going to one of her games like normal, a pretty rough game against South Carolina I must admit, but Iowa pulled through, Kate being the highest scorer instead of Caitlin for once. She had jogged over to where I was leaning against the walls of the stadium bleachers, a wide smile on her face the moment she noticed where I was. She had barely finished talking to the media, still dodging reporters with cameras on her way over to me.
I immediately wrapped my arms around her head of course, standing on my tiptoes to kiss the side of her head. Her head was buried in my neck, her heavy breathing and warm body pressed against my own. “You did so good baby, oh my god,” I said in her ear before pulling away, my hands still on her neck. Her face now held a different kind of look in her eye. What once was pink from the exertion of the game was now speckled darker with with red, her eyes holding a look of almost uncertainty in them. She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but nothing comes out.
She looks bashful, almost shocked, as she keeps trying to form words through her smile. A few laughs escape instead, so she breaks eye contact, and pulls me back into her arms, hiding her face in my neck.
I don’t bring it up until later, taking it as she was just overwhelmed in the post-win high.
But the more I thought about it, the more my brain needed to know why she looked so, flustered? Now I had had my theories about her liking praise, the few times I was more in control featuring a heavy adoration note, and less than a possessive or rough route, but I wanted to test my theory.
“I’m serious i’m so proud of you Kate, you played so well,” I say in the passenger seat of her car as she drives us back to her apartment, her hand in mine on the center console. We’re stopped at a long red, the large Iowa intersections taking far too long in any other circumstance, but i’m thankful for it now as I get to watch her head duck down in an attempt at hiding while a large smile plays on her face, one she’s clearly trying to hide. Her face flushes red again, and that’s when I knew I was on the right track.
Throughout the course of the next few days, I continued to shower my girlfriend with excess praise and compliments, relishing in every blush, smile, giggle, and hidden face. Everything from playing with her freshly washed hair while we talked about the game later that night, making her shift herself from laying on my chest to her kissing my neck to hide her red face when I started to delve into her high score. Not just that, but when she aced a math test a few days later, I went above and beyond in telling her how proud I was (she ended up telling me to shut up with a red face and half hidden smile, her large hand coming to cover half of her face).
The first time I called her pretty girl, I knew damn well what I was doing.
I was sitting on the bathroom counter as she curled her hair, just admiring her beauty and features. She was focused on not burning herself, but when she put the iron down and caught my eyes, she smiled, a puzzled look on her face. “What?” she asked while moving closer, her hands coming to my thighs, rubbing up and down my leggings as she laughed slightly. I shook my head, not wanting to admit anything yet, so naturally she moved closer, leaning into my personal space.
I shake my head while laughing, moving myself to kiss her lips with smiles on our faces. I break the gentle kiss to say, “My pretty girl.” Her reaction is immediate, her face flushes pink high on her cheekbones and ears, she tries to hold back an even larger smile which causes her nose to twitch slightly too. My hands cradle her jaw on each side before she plants her forehead on my chest, me sitting on the counter being one of the few positions she can do so.
I can feel her breathing slightly pick up, making me laugh again. She shakes her head in my chest with a small groan before picking it up, and moving back over to where she was standing, holding back a smile and a red face.
So it does work.
My plan was to see how long it would take for her to crack, or melt, either one worked for me. So when the day came where I was fed up with her being so stupidly strong willed, I decided to bombard her all day long.
I kissed every inch of her face when we woke up that morning, telling her how beautiful she is, even throwing in a my beautiful girl before getting out of bed to shower (she asked to join, but I don’t think I could handle seeing her naked and not get on my knees, which would ruin my whole plan).
I even hyped her up a little more the usual when we got ready to go out to dinner. When I would usually just call her my hot girlfriend and poke her biceps or abs, I made show of saying how good she looked, even throwing in a wolf whistle for good measure to get that pretty blush I adored. Now don’t get me wrong, she did look damn good, but it was a little exaggerated when she walked out in a gray tank and jeans, her hair up in a high ponytail with a dusting of makeup on her face highlighting her natural features.
I got the blush that I wanted, as well as an eye roll as she deflected by kissing me on the lips.
It was only after we had a few drinks at a nice italian restaurant that she even acknowledged my praises.
I had called her “so fuckin pretty” after taking some photos of her at our secluded table, to which she responded, “I can’t with you, you know that?” with an eye roll. “I just love my incredibly hot girlfriend, and I wanna tell her, what’s so wrong with that?” I replied. She just shook her head and said, “You’re so down bad for me.” Of course I nodded my head enthusiastically and took more photos.
By the time we were home on the couch, still in our going out clothes and makeup, I was determined to make her crack.
I was seated straddling her lap, her hands unbashfully on my ass and hips (a personal fav of hers as she put it), while mine were moving between her jaw and neck, not deciding which one I liked better. My tongue was in her mouth when my hand just barely squeezed her neck, not choking or anything, but enough for her to moan out in surprise. She pulled away for air, her face flushed and lips bitten a dark shade of pink. God she really was pretty.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered before going back in for more kisses. Her hands now gripped my hips harder, pulling me down onto her thigh, causing pleasure to shoot up into me. She did it again at the same time she pushed her thigh up, the thought of the strong muscle beneath me only adding to my pleasure. This time i’m the one that pulls away to say, “God you’re so good to me, you’re so fucking pretty baby,” while smiling. Hopefully this is the fatal blow that will make her crack.
I’m right.
“I-, I can’t, please, I can’t, you can’t keep doing this to me,” Kate pants into my mouth, a blushing smile on her face, clearly embarrassed at the needy tone her own voice took on. Her bright blue-green eyes plead up at me, coercing my body and soul into her. I stay quiet, hoping to urge her to fill the silence. “I mean it, you have no idea what that does to me I-,” she pauses, taking a deep breath, breaking our eye contact, “I can’t, just-“ I cut her desperate words off with a kiss, needing to feel those pretty lips on mine again. She kisses me back with fervor, gripping my ass and hip impossibly tighter, her hands almost painfully doing so.
Our lips continue to move with a melting passion, each of us letting out occasional moans as we move closer and closer to the fires burning bright in our cores. I break the kiss and a string of warm spit still keeps us connected. I move to kiss her cheek gently, the restraint and stark contrast from the aggressive kissing almost making me shake. Kissing softly down her jawline, stopping just above her ear to whisper, “My pretty baby,” the hand that was resting on her neck squeezing slightly.
Now being possessive wasn’t particularly new for us, Kate liked to show me off and I the same, but we were never directly possessive. So i I guess it caught her off guard when I accentuated the my part.
“Oh my god,” she half says half whines as I smirk, continuing my pursuit of kisses down her neck and onto her exposed collarbones. I manage to get her tank top off, so of course she had to even the score and get me out of my shirt (it was bunched up around my bra anyways). Kissing down her chest, removing the clasp of her bra one handed, pulling her ripped jeans down, those were all easy. But resisting the urge to abandon my teasing and fuck her senseless once I got her in just her underwear was not easy. At all.
I too was stripped down to my shorts and lacy black bralette, my mouth still slowly trailing down her body, gently kissing and biting. My hands explored her hips and thighs the lower I got, the sucking on her chest and nipples making the strong muscles twitch slightly. Every time I pulled away from her warm body to breathe or look at her, I let out a string of praises or minor possessiveness.
The lower I got, the more she squirmed at my words. What would’ve probably only made her blush before this is now making her pant. For example, “God you’re so good baby,” made her let out a particularly desperate moan, her hand coming to the back of my head as I sucked on her nipple.
Something I did know about Kate however, is that she got particularly embarrassed when I went down on her. She had a habit of covering her face with her hands, a pillow, or biting her lips to hold back the moans that only urged me on. She also had a habit of closing her eyes or looking away, especially the more orgasms I gave her, because she had a tendency to cry.
The first time I made her cry in bed, I panicked, thinking something was wrong. It was after a particularly hard loss, a tiring and brutal game against LSU, and I decided she could use an orgasm or two after that. By the time I was getting her closer and closer to her third, I thought that I was crazy when I caught a glimpse of shiny eyes before she covered them with the crook of her elbow again. Amping her up for her fourth however, was when I was for sure that her moans were turning into almost sobs. My heart dropped, thinking I had taken it too far. Of course I immediately removed my head from her pussy and cradled her face with my hands, trying to remove her own from her face.
All I had received in return was a rushed out explanation, “No, no, please don’t stop I’m fine I swear just-“ she had said before I cut her off. “Baby you’re crying you’re clearly not fine what’s wrong was it too much? I’m sorry love I-“ this time it was my turn to be cut off.
“No, no this just happens ok I’m fine just I swear to god if you don’t make me cum these tears will be for real,” she choked out, the waterworks of frustration starting back up again. I had kissed her salty lips quickly before giving her a fourth orgasm, watching as the tears flowed freely once I had held her hand down on her hip. Back then I had watched in awe as her pretty face was streaked with tear tracks, trying to test my luck with a fifth orgasm right after her fourth. Unfortunately her sobs became mumbled words of, “No I can’t i c-can’t too much I can’t please I can’t,” while pushing my head away from her dripping cunt.
Now I’m determined to see those rare tears again.
Hopefully my teasing combined with her newfound appreciation for praise would be enough.
I stand corrected.
After sucking on her thighs for too long, Kate had relented and quietly asked me to touch her. I had removed her soaked panties slowly, kissing every inch of her legs they went down. This is when she would typically look away or look for a pillow to hide in, but thanks to our position on our barren couch, she had no choice but to look at me as I made contact with her wet pussy.
I started out slow by circling her clit and pushing a single finger into her, crooking it slightly. “Keep your eyes on me pretty girl,” I said, making her move her hand from shaking by her thigh to holding the back of my head, keeping my tongue on her as she whines.
Throwing out other praises and you’re so pretty darling, or, you look so fucking good like this, so wet baby made Kate only moan and whine louder, her hand coming to cover her mouth. I get minutes into pumping two fingers into her before I notice she’s gone muffled, so I take her hand away from her mouth by her wrist, and hold it onto the couch with my thumb on her pulse point gently.
“C’mon baby let me hear you, I know you can do it,” I say, watching as she tries to keep quiet by biting her lip, tears beginning to form in her eyes. I decide to push her further.
At the same time I curl my fingers up into her g spot, I suck on her clit hard, all while simultaneously pushing on her lower stomach. This makes her let out a loud and whiny moan, stirring things inside me when she tightens her hold on my hair. The tears begin to flow now, almost making me let up on my assault. Almost.
I keep alternating between sucking on her clit and pushing on her stomach, my fingers keeping pace inside her. “Oh my god,” she panted out, the telltale signs of my girlfriend’s incoming orgasm starting as her breathing picks up. I keep going, never relenting, even when her strong hips try to lift up off the couch, forcing me to wrap my arms around her hips and thighs, pinning her in place.
I take a small breather to say, “you’re close baby, I know it, why don’t you cum for me yeah? god you’re doing so well love.” She throws her head back and whines, a high and needy thing that makes me speed up my hand, even though my wrist is starting to cramp.
Her breathing deepens, sobs worsen, thick hot tears rolling down her cheeks as her strong thighs clamp around my head. Pushing on her lower stomach always seems to do the trick, something about external g spot stimulation? Either way, she’s coming on my tongue with my name in her mouth, combined with many other things I can’t hear because of her thighs over my ears.
Her whole body shakes and twitches, her hips lifting in an arch, her hand holds my hair almost painfully tight to her cunt, not like I was leaving anyways. Her heavy breathing doesn’t slow as I push through what I think is the longest orgasm I’ve ever given her. And trust me, giving head was considered one of my special skills. Wonder if I could put THAT on a job resume?
I slow my fingers inside of her, as well as the lapping of my tongue when I think i’ve stretched that out as long as I could. Her eyes are closed now, breathing slowing, her thighs loosened around my head, allowing me to pull away for air. I slowly remove my fingers from her cunt, causing her hips to twitch again, making me laugh. I suck her excess slick off my fingers, relishing in the way she tastes. Maybe I’m smug, but the fucked out look on my girlfriend’s face as she opens her eyes is totally deserving of a mini victory lap.
I stand up from my position on the floor, my knees cracking on the way up from the way I was kneeling. I kiss my way up her hips and stomach gently, small pecks up her warm body, making my way to her face. The tear stained face I kiss every inch of, something I had started after the first time she cried, a mix of guilt and tenderness I felt for her compelling me to do so. When I finally reach her lips, I swipe my thumb under her eyes, cleaning off any more salty tears or cum. Unfortunately for Kate, going from eating pussy to kissing cheeks means mixing of bodily fluids.
A self confident smile on my face, I kiss my girl on the lips finally, her once limp mouth curving up into a small smile. I pull away, taking in her disbelieving expression. “Where the hell did that come from?” she asks, shaking her head slightly against my lips. “You’re pretty,” is all I say in response.
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poisonlove · 8 months
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Thoughtless sex | w.a
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Y/n is Tyler’s sister, a blood bond that was supposed to bring harmony, but the tumultuous past continues to cast a shadow over them. Wednesday doesn’t seem to care about this detail and ignoring her conscience decides to turn off her sexual desires with the girl Galpin
Will they manage this intricate web of feelings without disrupting their lives forever?
Warning: 18+
"Yes... continue" she said biting her lips hard. I clung more to her thighs and stuck my tongue in her privacy.
We were in the woods away from prying eyes.
"Shit!" Wednesday moans biting her lower lip, closing her eyes. I smiled and kissed her inner lips gently, releasing a stream of saliva that connects her to my mouth. With one hand, I made rotating movements around her clitoris, causing Addams' sighs to become heavier. My hand was completely covered with her fluids, I leaned over and left another kiss on the bundle of nerves.
I licked with my tongue the excitement I had on my lips. I put my lips back around her clitoris and stuck two fingers inside her.
With the corner of my eye I saw Wednesday’s knuckles turn completely white, squeezing the car seat in need
The moans echoed in the car.
The walls of Addams narrowed around my fingers and I realized it was coming.  Wednesday put her hands in my hair and put more pressure on her intimacy. I kept licking and penetrating.
Her back arches more.
" IF..." moans and arching fingers I found her G-spot. Mostly twin. -"Fuck!" exclaims.
Her hips moved more and I increased the rhythm of the lick. As I stopped penetrating her, I put my fingers in her mouth, sucking her nectar.
" Look at me" I exclaim with a small smile, ceasing to lick her delicious intimacy. With difficulty she put the weight on her arms and looked at me excitedly.
She was covered in sweat and her lower lip was caught between her teeth. I took her legs and invited her to rest on my shoulders, giving me more access to her privacy. Without looking away, I licked again and saw that Wednesday moved the weight on one arm, the other stretched it and put her hand between my hair. 
Wednesday moves her hips again.
Moaning.
"Fuck!. Yes.." whispers.
Her eyes turned white with excitement. She turned her attention back to me.
"Y/N" exclaims with difficulty.
" I’m.. to... " murmurs with difficulty and does not even finish pronouncing the phrase I feel her excitement pouring into my mouth.
I ate the excess.
Wednesday moves swiftly to fix her skirt, glancing at herself in the rearview mirror of the car.
I wipe my mouth, slightly incredulous at Wednesday's gesture, and sigh audibly.
"What's going on?" Addams mumbles weakly, looking at me with boredom.
"Do we always have to see each other in these circumstances?" I ask curiously, leaning against the seat.
"Between us, it's just sex," Wednesday frowns.
"I know... but do we always have to do it in this car? Maybe we could meet somewhere else, maybe in my room or yours," I murmur absentmindedly, biting my lower lip.
"Some things are off-limits, too many risks," Wednesday confesses venomously. "Plus, I don't want Enid to suspect," she adds coldly. "She hates the fact that you're Tyler's sister," she admits.
Tension in the car increases as Wednesday's words hang in the air.
Wednesday Addams' eyes are truly a wonder. They have a mysterious and seductive color, a deep and vibrant black hue that seems to capture the light fascinatingly. They are piercing eyes capable of expressing a wide range of emotions, from a seductive and provocative gaze to a cold and distant one. They are the eyes of a woman who knows how to use her charm to her advantage and who hides intriguing secrets.
I visibly get angry.
"I know Tyler was horrible to you, but I'm not like him... I'm genuinely interested in you, Wed," I murmur with a hurt tone, reaching out to her.
Wednesday moves away quickly.
"I don't want to be seen in public with someone like you," she confesses, looking at me defiantly.
I nervously smile and simply shake my head.
"Fine, I don't want to be seen with a shallow and unpleasant girl," I admit, and Wednesday looks at me seriously.
"Between us, it's over," I confess seriously.
"Well, then we're done, useless," she looks at me defiantly. Wednesday swallows and gets out of my car.
"To leave and to end are the same thing," I shout as I watch Wednesday walk towards her rooms.
Anger and disappointment overwhelm me as I drive away from the scene, making it clear that this story has come to an end.
"No more casual sex," I whisper to the air as I start my car.
(...)
The morning sun painted the sky with golden hues as Yoko and I walked through Nevermore's ancient gate, heading to our next class at the academy. The leaves of the trees, now dressed in autumn colors, danced lightly in the air.
"So, Y/n... what class do we have now?" Yoko yawned and adjusted her sunglasses.
"We have art history," I replied, smiling, flipping through the schedule. "It will be interesting."
Yoko stretched and nodded, ready to face the next part of the academic day. As we headed towards the classroom, the campus buzzed with student energy.
"And tell me..." Yoko murmured with a hint of curiosity. "Why didn't you tell me you're with someone?" she asked, playfully revealing her fangs.
"W-What?" I stammered, panicking and shaking my head. "Y/n, if you want to keep it a secret that you're with someone, at least cover the hickies," she said mischievously, and my cheeks turned red.
I spotted Wednesday in the distance, walking carefree with Enid. I felt sad and neglected, as if my role in her life had become invisible. It was as if a piece of my heart shattered seeing that my presence didn't seem to matter to her anymore. I wanted to call out to her, to make her notice me, but something held me back, leaving me with an emptiness and a sadness that tightened my chest.
"Hey," Yoko called, snapping her fingers and catching my attention.
She gave me a shy smile and hugged me, wrapping an arm around my neck as we walked together.
"I was distracted... sorry," I said with sadness, trying to hide my unease behind a forced smile. "Let's go," I continued, forcing a happier expression.
Addams gave me a quick glance, a flash of interest or perhaps something more complex, before walking decisively towards the building entrance.
I felt increasingly involved in this intricate situation, as if I were trapped in a web of complicated relationships. The sadness continued to burn inside me, but I tried to focus on the present moment, trying to overcome this discomfort that undermined my confidence.
Walking beside Yoko, I took a deep breath and prepared to face the day.
"Hey, sorry..." Yoko bit her lower lip slightly, visibly concerned. "I just remembered I have to meet Bianca," she confessed quickly.
I sighed, realizing that the situation forced me to separate from her, even if only for a while. Yoko gave me a apologetic smile and a kiss on the cheek before heading towards Bianca, the queen of this school.
I watched her go, feeling a mix of loneliness and determination.
I put on my headphones, trying to isolate myself from the surrounding world as I climbed the stairs. I had to cross the deserted and abandoned corridor. My heart was racing, the tension in the air palpable.
Suddenly, two hands grabbed my collar with firmness, pulling me abruptly into the rarely frequented bathrooms. A shiver ran down my spine, and my eyes met Wednesday's black irises. Her gaze seemed penetrating, dark, and enigmatic.
I stood still, caught between fear and curiosity.
Wednesday's hands firmly grabbed my pants' belt, making me tense, as she approached my neck with determination. I looked confused, unable to understand what was happening.
"What are you doing?" I asked uncertainly, trying to ignore the confusion that overwhelmed me.
Wednesday looked at me seriously, without answering, before leaning further and pressing her cold lips against mine. A shiver ran down my spine, and for a moment, instinct made me respond to the kiss.
But reason prevailed.
I finally found the strength to break that kiss, my heart beating fast, and my breath short.
"We're done, Wednesday," I managed to say decisively, trying to convey my feelings.
But she held my neck firmly, pushing me again towards her for a needy kiss.
"I don't like to fight, okay?  Can we keep fucking" she whispered calmly, her hands still around my neck.
I was astonished, my mouth opened to say something but remained speechless. Wednesday swiftly moved to my neck, starting to leave sloppy kisses on it.
I felt trapped in a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, desire conflicting with confusion and the need to express what I really wanted.
I timidly returned the kiss, still confused but drawn to that intense energy. Wednesday genuinely smiled against my lips, a smile that seemed to carry a strange mix of pleasure and torment.
My heart was beating fast.
The bathroom door swung open with a dull noise, and in a panic, I turned my eyes towards the person responsible.
Wednesday still had her hands around my neck, her obvious state revealing what we were doing. Addams stood there, breathing heavily, her braids unkempt.
"But what the fuck..." Enid exclaimed, her mouth wide open in disbelief.
A sense of embarrassment and dismay overwhelmed me. I felt as if I had been caught in something forbidden and shameful. The words seemed to get stuck in my throat as I tried to find explanations that eluded me.
Everything plummeted in an instant. The consequences of this situation will be unavoidable.
Damn.
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kyopmi · 2 years
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we've talked about jealous omi before but what about when u get jealous and clingy? or alternatively:
♡ — when you're in a secret relationship with kiyoomi but his fans start shipping him with someone else
。:゚ sakusa kiyoomi x reader
。:゚ 1.06k words; all aboard the fluff train!
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the second kiyoomi steps foot in your shared apartment, it seems like you're clinging onto him more than usual – greeting him with many kisses and a lingering hug, choosing to sit next to him instead of across from him at dinner, and flopping right on top of him on the couch to watch your show.
kiyoomi doesn't mind at all, arms encircled around your form with one hand resting on the small of your back while the other between your shoulder blades, fingers occasionally moving to brush against your neck ever so slightly and enjoying the way you shiver delightfully and bury your face into his chest.
he is curious, though.
“y/n.”
“hmm?” your response is slightly muffled by the soft fabric of his t-shirt.
“what's gotten you so clingy today?”
always so straightforward, you think. then again, he wouldn't be sakusa kiyoomi if he wasn't.
“... nothi-”
“no.” he's immediately cuts you off on your attempted lie, shooting you a pointed look.
“alright, fine,” you huff in defeat, “i saw that video of you and the sports reporter earlier.”
“from the last match?” he asks.
“yeah.”
kiyoomi knows exactly which sports reporter video you're talking about. it's the one where he's stood next to them for a short interview after a successful MSBY match, but just as the reporter was about to begin, they had accidentally dropped the cue cards they were holding. without thinking twice, sakusa had bent down to help pick up the stray cards while the reporter stuttered out apologies, thanking him as he hands them their cards back.
to him, it was a completely normal, harmless interaction.
to some fans, it was the blossoming of a romantic-cliche relationship.
and it usually wouldn't have bothered you so much – you know first-hand how attractive and irresistible kiyoomi is, so it's not surprising that anyone would crush on him at least a little. (in fact, maybe you would be offended for him if no one did.) so, seeing other people getting starstruck or tongue-tied in the presence of your boyfriend? nothing out of the ordinary.
however, it does start getting annoying when you spend your entire afternoon scrolling through social media only to find tweets, video edits and comments about “the way he looks at them is so cute😍”, “he's definitely crushing on the reporter!”, “i'm gonna riot if they don't become a couple ASAP.”
all because of the stupid “cool-guy” image your stupid handsome boyfriend has accidentally portrayed himself as, so now everyone's going crazy at the slightest crumb of him being a decent human being? plus that last comment is being way too dramatic.
your relationship with kiyoomi isn't really a secret, per se. many of your friends and families know about it. it's just the both of you tend to keep it lowkey – no excessive PDA or social media posts, and somehow the media has yet to catch wind of it, either. but, you've always enjoyed the privacy you get from it and so does kiyoomi, so you've agreed to keep your relationship the way it is.
but that was before you desperately wanted to comment “sorry, he’s taken! xoxo” at every post of kiyoomi and that sports reporter. 
of course, you wouldn’t actually do that, and you realize you’re just being petty and dramatic right now (not that you’d ever admit that to kiyoomi. the amount of times you’ve teased him, calling him dramatic? he would never let you live this down.) but a little jealousy in your situation is reasonable, right?
kiyoomi chuckles in amusement from beneath you, a soft smile growing when he sees your pout deepen. his toned arms squeeze you tighter, closer to him, pulling you up towards his face so he can lean in and press a kiss on your forehead. 
“you know it’s just the internet doing its thing, right? they’ll get bored and move on to something new soon enough,” he hums, his hand rubbing circles on your back.
“i know,” you sigh, feeling yourself instantly relax under his touch and you melt into him even more, “it’s just annoying to see.”
he hums again in acknowledgement. there’s a comfortable silence between the two of you for a moment, with only the sounds from the tv playing in the background, until kiyoomi speaks again.
“hey,” he calls out, quieter this time, making you look at him again, “you know i love you, right?”
kiyoomi doesn’t realize his heart is pounding until a small smile graces your lips and he feels himself calm down, the corners of his lips mirroring your own.
“of course i know that, silly,” you laugh. “i love you, too.”
“good.” he leans in once again, this time to capture your lips with his in a slow kiss.
sakusa kiyoomi has always loved you with his actions more so than his words, and right now, he hopes his kiss is able to convey just how much love he has for you, in the way his honey lip balm that you got him tastes on his lips, in the way you can definitely feel his heart pick up its pace, in the way his large hand is gently splayed across your face down to your neck, his index and middle finger resting on one side of your cheek and his thumb on the other side, while the rest of his fingers can feel your similarly quickening pulse as they rest just below your jaw. he’s reluctant when you pull away, keeping you as close as possible so you can still feel his breath tickle against your skin as he holds back a pout lest you start calling him your cute baby boy.
“do you want to tell them? everyone, i mean. like, officially,” he asks, his voice almost a whisper.
you blink in surprise at his sudden offer. “no, it’s fine. i like us the way we are,” you reply truthfully, “and, like you said, it’ll pass soon enough.”
“okay.” kiyoomi nods and gives you another peck on your lips, one that silently says me too. “i’ll get atsumu or hinata to post a shirtless thirst trap or something. that should shift their attention.”
you snort at his idea. it’s admittedly not a bad one, but...
“i’ll do you one better, omi. why don’t you post a – mmph!”
kiyoomi is quick to shut you up with another kiss on that one.
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this is my apology to kiyoomi for always saying he’s dramatic (i mean, he is, but don’t tell him i said that) and PLEASE tell me no one saw me accidentally post this when it was half-done LMAO
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mari-the-bimbo · 7 months
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What do you think about pumpkin carving with bodyguard!Megumi? I can picture reader making a mess with pumpkin guts, and Megumi secretly hates the mess but loves reader too much to ruin their fun.
Bodyguard Megumi: pumpkin carving
A/N: oof it’s been a while since I posted some Megumi content hope you enjoy! 💗
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It didn’t take much convincing to make your sorcerer fiancé to join you for pumpkin carving, but that’s probably because he’s the biggest simp ever.
Megumi’s dark piercing eyes continuously flicker to your hand holding the knife, trying his best not to be overprotective but it’s second nature, so he fails easily. “Be careful with the knife y/n” he mutters.
You giggle when you turn your attention towards him only to find he’s just shamelessly staring at you now, which was something you were already used to though.
“I’m fine Megumi, stop being such a worry wart!”
“I’m not” Megumi states firmly, but it’s hard to believe that.
He turns his attention back to the pumpkin in front of him momentarily but he made no move to carve it, after all, he wasn’t interested in pumpkin carving, he was interested in you.
He silently turns his attention back to you, eyebrows furrowing when he’s realised the mess you’ve made with the pumpkin guts. “Stop making a mess you silly girl” he scolds half heartedly, pinching your cheek before the lovesick sorcerer cleans up your mess.
You open your mouth to retort but instead you decided to tease your lover just a little, makes things more fun right?
You grab some of the pumpkin guts and throw it towards him, the orange pulp landing on his pale hands. His head immediately turns towards you, shooting you an unimpressed glare with an eyebrow raised.
“Oi-“
“Whoopsie! Sorry gumi, just helping you clean the mess” you say with a cheeky smile which seemed a bit too mischievous to be innocent.
He’s frowning but it became a bit too hard to keep his resolve as he notices you bite your pretty plush lips to prevent yourself from laughing. God, you’re so fucking cute even when you’re being a gremlin.
“You think you’re so fucking funny don’t you?” he asks, tilting his head ever so slightly.
You gleam in pride at his words, “thats because I am the funniest gumi”, flipping your hair to add emphasis. His fingers impulsively reach out to play with the ends of your hair.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah” You say unable to fight off your smile.
Megumi flashes a smile back, before speaking “only thing funny about you is the pumpkin guts stuck to your chin”
Your eyes widen as your hands immediately fumble around your chin, trying to wipe off any excess. And in your hurry, you miss the handsome smirk on Megumi’s face as he watches you.
“Here let me help you” he offers.
But as his veiny hands grabs your chin, you gasp as he pushes it upwards and presses himself against your lips instead. You’re surprised but you kiss back until you both pull away for air.
“Gotcha”
“Perv” you huff.
He chuckles while he leans back and puts his hands back in his pocket. He hides half his face back in his jumper to hide his smile as usual.
“You liar, I never had anything stuck to my chin” you say with a pout, now leaning forward and pressing yourself on his muscular chest.
“You lie all the time” he retorts as his arms snake around your waist to help you into his lap.
“Not true! I only lie about my grades!” You admit, as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders.
“Mhm sure” he says dryly as he feeds you some of the pumpkin pulp. Smiling at you as you munch on it like a chipmunk.
“Cutie” he mutters as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips.
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thedevilspearl · 1 year
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➛ out of office hours
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a/n: been craving a ceo!luci for so long so i decided to write it myself and i’m in love with him >_< am also thinking about him falling in love with you and i just—! <333333
tags: 4.2k words, ceo!lucifer x secretary!reader, female reader, dom!lucifer, oral sex (male and female receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside, ass slapping, degradation, praise, multiple orgasms, overstimulation. minors do not interact!
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you always felt the need for professionalism in your role as a secretary. especially with a boss as hot as yours.
he was terrifying at first, you will admit that. but having the raven–haired man bare down at you with those unruly eyes was the most exciting thing about the job. from the beginning, he watched you closely, his gaze raking up and down your form, taking in the way you do things so perfectly.
your profession is simple enough; organising files, preparing his documents, reading and directing e–mails and scheduling all of lucifer’s appointments are the routine kind of things you do.
but every now and then, a splash of wild colour enters the monotonous life as a secretary, and you find yourself on your knees beneath your cold and grumpy boss.
“that’s it,” lucifer sighs. “just like that.”
today was a world–wind of emotions for both you and lucifer. as the ceo, he is bound to have days filled with stress. and on those days, your bound to feel it tenfold as you are the one doing all of the work behind the scenes, supporting him as best you can.
through all the excessively long and draining meetings and the ruthlessly hectic business environment, you both managed to make it back in the office, despite it being late into the evening, long after business had closed for the day.
he finishes up some work on his computer, work you will need to catch up on later, and hums from the warmth of your mouth running up and down his cock. he relaxes into his chair, no longer paying attention to his screen and looks down at you tucked snugly under his desk.
squeezed in the space between his thighs, you forge eye contact with him as he brushes his hair back with slender fingers, revealing a slightly sweaty forehead and reddened cheeks.
you’re aware of how hard he tries to maintain the classic ceo persona — an emotionless robot who cares only for money and power — but when he’s with you, when he’s fucking you and using you and allowing you to use him how you please….it’s a marvel, to say the least.
his blush is enhanced with the ruby glimmers in his irises but the dark, lustful entity behind those eyes spur you on.
a mixture of whispery groans and praises escape him and you take it as your signal to suck in harder, then to tease him by pulling back and swirling your tongue around his cock, paying extra attention to his sensitive tip before taking him whole in your mouth again.
“mmh….fuck, keep doing it like that.” he orders and you obey.
you wonder if the pleasure you thrust upon him is what takes his moodiness away. seeing him slip into his relaxed self, his greedy and self–indulgent self while he gets off on your mouth is surely a sight no one else would see.
as far as you know, you’re the only one who does these things with him.
not that it’s an exclusive relationship, but lucifer has expressed he would only do such things with people he trusts and you happen to be one of them. conveniently, the only one he has regular access to.
and that’s how this situation began.
it’s rare, but every now and then when either of you need relief, you use each other. there are rules in place, of course. there always are with a man like lucifer.
the typical things like no strings attached and no kissing.
but your least favourite rule is no fucking.
feelings, kissing and fucking: all three of them would decimate the professional boundaries you have in place.
but that’s not to say you don’t have fun without all of that.
using your hands and mouths on each other is satisfying enough. and the opportunity to even look at lucifer’s cock, let alone suck him dry, is more akin to a blessing.
the feel of his cock in your mouth will never grow old. you hollow your cheeks, sucking harder and humming so the vibrations can send waves of pleasure up his cock and into his body. he twitches, rutting his hips into you, no longer restraining himself.
his hand plants itself into you scalp, using your head as he pleases until hot cum blasts into your mouth and his hips stutter between your lips. you watch with wide eyes as his face contorts in pleasure, and you feel your panties grow more soaked in your arousal.
you had already removed your shoes and blazer, but while you swallow the remnants of lucifer’s cum, you unbutton your shirt and kick off your skirt, leaving your bra and panties for him to remove. he steadily reaches behind you, not breaking eye contact, and unclasps your bra.
his dark orbs finally move away from yours, only to remain stuck on you breasts and perky nipples. you don’t miss the swipe of tongue across his lips; he’s hungry.
pulling him from his trance, you work on his own shirt, unbuttoning and pulling it from him with zeal. he meets your eagerness by pushing you down on his desk, tracing his fingers over your ankles and up your calves. he leaves kisses along the inside of your thighs, promising to go further.
and when he reaches the apex, he chuckles softly at the soaked stain leaking through your panties. you bare your wetness proudly, and his cock twitches knowing it’s all due to him. one chaste kiss over your panties causes you to quiver and a moment later, your panties are ripped from you.
your pussy glistens in the dimmed light of his office and your boss, who is a man with little time, wastes none when it comes to devouring you.
his hot mouth collides with your already burning pussy and you whine wantonly. he slobbers all over you, mixing your arousal with his own saliva before sucking it all back into his mouth. his tongue tickles between your folds, swiping up and down and swirling circles at the top where your most sensitive part hides.
and just when your clit is ready to explode with pleasure and send it adrift throughout your body, he smacks harsh, wet kisses on your lips, sucking and nibbling like his life depends on it.
“fuck! lucifer!” you squeal. “please make me cum!”
he buries his head deep between your thighs and you lock him in. you yearn for release and grind your hips into his face, to which he responds by licking and sucking your pussy with more vigour. and as you rock your pussy on his face, the pleasure builds up and explodes in an electrifying burst.
ripples of exultation flood your body, nourishing your flesh with the meaning of true bliss; a cause for you nerves to jubilate and rejoice. sparks dance along your skin and lucifer pulls away, gasping between your trembling thighs with his face glossed over from your pussy.
he kisses his way up slowly, leaving marks on your stomach and giving special attention to your breasts. he eyes you as he takes each nipple one after the other, and sucks. falling onto your elbows, you throw your head back and attempt to catch your breath, but lucifer makes that difficult as his lips snake up the skin of your neck and capture your lips in his own.
the sweet taste of your essence coats your tongue, but what surprises you more is how casual lucifer’s lips feel against yours. it’s the first kiss you’ve shared, yet it feels like you’ve kissed him a million times before, like he’s the only man you should ever kiss.
tiny cracks appear in the set of rules. he shouldn’t have kissed you, and you most certainly should not be kissing him back.
but you wrap your arms around his shoulders, silently telling him you are fine with this. more than fine, actually. you would rather die than move away from him now.
wrapped so closely together, embraced in each other’s lips and arms, it feels like it should be no other way.
his tongue reaches in and toys with yours in a playful fight for dominance and you hope this forbidden kiss could last forever, but you pull back slight when his cock rubs against your sensitive clit.
a single look to him to ask what he is doing earns a single look from him, signifying what he wants next.
you shouldn’t.
you absolutely should not do this.
but no matter how many times you remind yourself how wrong it is in these few short moments, your body speaks for itself and you nod. lucifer’s shoulders visibly relax, as if he was scared you would say no.
you can’t feel guilty about this, not when lucifer wants it as much as you. he strokes his cock, eyes furrowed from the battle waging in his mind. he’s as conflicted as you, but in times like this, he is hopeless in the fight against his lust.
“are you sure you want this?”
“yes,” you gasp. “are you?”
“i wouldn’t have gotten this far if i didn’t.”
you hesitate for a moment, but he assures you with his charming words, whether they speak the truth or otherwise.
“you needn’t worry about the repercussions. this is purely for stress relief.”
you’re sure the sinking feeling in your chest is a bad sign, knowing it hurts that all of this is just for the release of pent up stress. but still, your body is greedy enough to bury that bitter hesitance deep down and replace it with more lust.
“then stop talking and do it,” you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer so his cock prods your entrance. “don’t take your time with me, lucifer. i’m not a patient woman.”
his softness is gone instantaneously and like a flash of lightening, you are shocked by how quickly he can switch from his relaxed and vulnerable side to his authoritative and commanding façade.
“you ought to show more respect to your boss,” he leans down, close enough for his lips to graze your ear. “you’ve forgotten your manners.”
“i hardly think manners are necessary. with this, at least.”
“hm, well, you see,” he taunts. “i won’t give you anything unless you ask for it nicely. and you’re not a patient woman, so how long are you going to wait for it?”
you scoff, rolling your eyes. you’d gotten caught up in the heat of the moment, hoping lucifer would hop straight into fucking you senseless. but you forgot how much of a control freak he is, and how everything happens his way or it doesn’t happen at all.
you hoped the lenience and generosity he has for you would work in your favour, but apparently not.
“i don’t need to ask again,” he warns. “tell me what you want and say please.”
you bite your lip, glaring at him daringly but a single stern look puts you in your place and speaking the words you both desperately need to hear.
“please, i want you to fuck me.”
he stares you dead in the eye as he utters another order.
“say it again.”
“please, lucifer,” you whine. “fuck me, please!”
in a moment’s turn, he flips you so your feet touch the ground and his large hand on your lower back pushes you into the edge of his desk, while the other lines his cock with your sopping entrance.
he slips in, teasing you and earning a moan as he slowly rocks his hips, entering you further with each roll of his hips.
you push your body against him, and his cock digs further into your pussy. you keep rocking, both in unison until his cock is deep enough for you to scream his name.
“lucifer—ah!”
your squeal is cut short when he ruts into you again, slamming his hips against your ass and groaning from the tight warmth of your pussy enveloping his aching cock.
both of you are so lost in the wonders of each other’s body that the abrupt, high–pitched chiming almost goes unnoticed.
shrill ringing of the telephone on lucifer’s desk threatens to dampen the mood. but lucifer’s cock has only just entered and you’re not far away from the best part of the night. to hell with the phone call, lest it disturb your secret pleasure time with your boss.
“what are you waiting for?” lucifer rubs your hips with a subtle but notable thrust of his own. “aren’t you going to answer it?”
“what—ah?!” you gasp, doing your utmost to stay upright on his desk while he pounds into you. but your elbows have turned feeble from your orgasm, trembling as you try to hold yourself up with them. “i can’t do that!”
“answer it.”
his curt order is enough to make you obey, as is the harsh grip on your ass cheek. you lean over the desk a little further, reaching for the phone. this is a terrible idea but you can’t seem to break free of the spell lucifer has cast on you — you’d obey every last one of his orders.
“h–hello?”
in the process of lucifer figuratively rearranging your guts, he seems to have also turned your brain to mush and you cannot comprehend the words coming from the speaker.
all you can feel is lucifer, and how he hovers lower and lower, leaning down on your body until you’re squished between him and his desk. he grinds his hips into you, leaving chaste kisses along your shoulder blade and when he is flush against your ear, he whispers.
“focus.”
but you’re incapable of doing anything, including focusing on the phone call.
you have a client in one ear, and your boss in the other ear. neither of which can hear the other, but what is certain is that they can both hear you muffling your moans with a hand clasped over your face, and your entire body shakes as lucifer refuses to cease fucking you brainless.
“hello? is anyone there? i can hear you breathing.”
within seconds, you move the phone away from your mouth, ready to hang up but lucifer’s reflexes are quick enough to grab your arm and bring the phone back to where it was moments ago.
“answer him,” lucifer whispers. you shake your head with tight lips, holding your breath as to not make a sound while lucifer holds the phone against your face. and into the ear he has claimed, he orders, “speak. now. or i won’t let you cum.”
you open your mouth, swallowing in air before finally speaking.
“this is mr. morningstar’s office. how can i help?”
“i wish to speak with lucifer himself. this is urgent.”
your mouth hangs open, silent moans causing your body to convulse as lucifer grinds slowly and deeply in your pussy. you’re hanging on by a thin thread, but lucifer brings your attention back from your oncoming orgasm.
“you want to cum, don’t you? be a good girl and do your fucking job.”
lucifer pushes himself up and switches up his pace from slow ruts to harsh and fast thrusts. each of them knock the air out of you as you try to speak.
“i must apologise, sir. you’re calling during his out of office hours so unfortunately i can’t let you speak to him at the moment.”
“why the hell not?!”
“this is his personal—ah!” you stifle a yelp to the best of your ability, praying lucifer would have some mercy and not humiliate you — or allow you to humiliate yourself. “this is his personal time but i can pass on a message.”
the man continues to speak and with shaky hands, you reach for pen and paper, turning your moans from lucifer’s cock dragging in and out of your pussy into hums of acknowledgement in heed of the man’s queries. you only hoped they’re disguised enough to not spark intrigue on the other end of the line, because that would be the end of all the professionalism you held.
you slam the telephone into its holder, ending the call as quickly as possible.
“what the hell was that?” you whine, clenching down on lucifer’s cock as you near the bliss you’ve been longing for. your complaints are disrupted with stutters caused by lucifer’s thrusts. “do you have any idea how stupid that was?”
“you’re the one who answered,” he bites back, landing his hand down harshly on your ass once again. “not me.”
“you told me—ah! to answer!”
“and you could have refused.”
you lower your head, biting back a moan. you could have refused, but the outcome of tonight’s session would be a lot different if you didn’t answer. perhaps, lucifer might have stopped immediately, leaving you on the outskirts of blissful territory.
or alternatively, he may have begun to fuck you harsher, rougher, meaner; punishing you for not obeying his order. but you wouldn’t think of it as a punishment, as long as you get to cum.
“that’s right,” he continues. “you’re so desperate to cum, you don’t care if someone hears you getting fucked like a whore.”
an especially loud groan escapes you at the sound of the new nickname. you quite like the sound of it, but your body more so and lucifer can tell from the quivering walls of your pussy.
“you like that? you like being called a whore?”
“yes!”
“i fucking knew it.”
he thrusts impossibly harder and your body collapses, allowing him full control of your pleasure. and he gifts it to you on a golden platter.
“go on. you’ve been a good whore, so go ahead and cum,” he grunts. “cum for me. cum all over my cock like the desperate, pathetic bitch you are.”
“fuck! ah!” you can’t even warn him of your orgasm as you clench your walls, feeling his cock in greater detail as it rubs you in all the right places. “fuck, luci— feels so good!”
“that’s it, baby,” lucifer hums, emptying his own load in you. “good fucking girl.”
his words are dragged out, mellowed by the pure ecstasy he has found in your pussy. and your pussy, too, feels awestruck from the new sensations of him filling you up, not just with his cock but with his cum, too.
you’re taken over by bliss and warmth, limbs trembling from the sheer shock of it all. never had you imagined how one of your worst days would end with such astoundingly good sex. you ebb and flow with the pleasure, letting your body relax and the feelings to wither away slowly while you catch your breath.
but lucifer doesn’t give the feelings a chance to subdue and picks up the pace. with hands grounded in your hips, he pushes all of his might into one more round. the stickiness from your mixed arousals leaking out of your pussy allow him to fuck you with ease, and not minutes later, your screaming and thrashing with a new, heightened pleasure.
your tip–toes graze the floor, pressing into the ground as hard as you can to stabilise yourself. but lucifer fucks you ruthlessly and when he rips another orgasm from you, your legs fly up and outward and your hips rock against him and the desk in a most embarrassing manner.
your limbs flail and your body convulses and lucifer relishes, knowing he is the reason behind your wild pleasure. he wonders if anyone else could make you like this, to drive you insane with pleasure that you no longer have control over your body, even for the short–lived moment of him fucking you through your orgasm.
perhaps, that is why he keeps going. because he wants this moment to last forever.
having your tight pussy wrapped around him and your wildly beautiful moans filling his ears for eternity doesn’t sound bad at all.
but he, too, has limits and feels himself slow down. his thrusts become sloppy and gentle and his guttural groans are replaced with heavy breaths.
“fuck….” he gasps and he truly can find no other words. “fuck.”
collapsing into his chair, he watches your body twitching as you lay exhausted on his desk with you red ass on display and his cum dripping down your legs.
when you finally regain control over your limbs, you slowly rise, stretching to ease your muscle. but your whines and groans and the sight of your sullied body keep his cock hard for longer than he thought.
“are you alright?” he asks breathlessly. “rest longer if you need to.”
“no,” you state, looking at him over you shoulder before backing up. “we’re not done yet.”
lucifer is surprised. under the assumption that you would be as spent as he is, he does not expect you to find his cock and slip it inside of you again. but that’s exactly what you do.
“oh my god….” you moan, hypersensitive to any and all ministrations against your pussy. but still, you want more, you need more. “please, it’s so good!”
lucifer supposes he should let you continue bouncing on his cock given that he released all of his stress on you. the least he can do is allow you to use him until you’re satisfied. but that doesn’t stop him from grabbing your hips and guiding you up and down. his fingers fit into your flesh like second nature.
his added strength makes it easier for you, and you focus more on finding your next orgasm.
the usually quiet office of morningstar corporation’s boss is now filled will all sorts of obscenities — from your desperate gasps and moans to the squeaking of lucifer’s chair, and the abrupt slaps cutting through the air to the scuffling of paper on his desk when you grab onto it for stability as rapture fills you for the last time, teaching you that the joy and delight you find in melding your bodies together is the most sinful of utopias.
pleasure turns to pain, and pain turns to pleasure as you are overwhelmed with the orgasms you have endured.
lucifer’s hands snake around your waist, pulling you back into him with one hand straying to fondle your breasts. breathing in your scent, he grounds himself in you and you lay limp in his arms as all the glee and elation filling your body slowly slips away.
regaining your stable mind and body, you realise you and your boss have a lot of discussing to do. and what follows can either make or break the relationship you have with him as your boss and you as his secretary. all professional boundaries have been broken, and the flimsy rules you had in place to ensure your situation would not advance to the level it did tonight are left far in hindsight.
there’s not a single directive you left untouched. but knowing you broke all the rules, and that lucifer instigated most of it, is worrying as much as it is electrifying because you know that extra care and attention from lucifer isn’t just for the sex.
he appreciates your abilities outside of the sexual encounters you share.
as you would both understand, your role is merely to serve him and his company. he receives corporate aide from his directors but still, he trusts your intuition. he listens to your gut feeling as if it were his own.
he has a habit of asking your opinion when it comes to high–risk decisions, or urging you to tell him your opinion on a new client he had a bad feeling about. although you’re in his presence for admin only, lucifer ensures you are there for more than that.
that you are there for him and not just your job.
in more ways than one.
and he proved that tonight when he kissed you. the first rule of your arrangement was no feelings and no kissing. but lucifer, a man who lives by rules, had thrown it out the window. it only made you more curious as to what would come from it.
surely, you would stick to the scope of your professionalism. at least, what’s left of it. but his lips against yours, the soft drag of them across your skin, the sweet whispers that meant something entirely different after he kissed you….is it really worth the cost of losing your livelihood?
“we should do this more often,” he breathes into your mouth, enveloping your lips between words. “i’m beginning to despise how rare of an occurrence this is.”
“we do this often enough,” you warn him, rising from your place on his lap.
but he doesn’t let you escape. he grabs your wrist and pulls you back into him. your butt is awkwardly positioned near his softened cock but you rest your shoulder on his chest with your arms tucked between your bodies.
“if you don’t wish to do this again, then just say the word. but for now, let’s stay like this a little while longer,” he speaks softly into your hair. “i had a long day.”
“i did, too.” you hum.
his big arms wrapping around you feels foreign. but still, it feels natural to slide your head onto his shoulder and rest in his embrace. you have been intimate with lucifer in more ways than one, but this….sitting in his lap, bare and vulnerable, and holding him back while he kisses and caresses the skin on your neck and shoulders….it’s a different type of intimate.
a type of intimacy you never imagined he would be capable of.
“i hope i made your day better, even in the slightest.”
“trust me, lucifer,” you smirk. “you turned a really shitty day into a really good one.”
the both of you relish in each other’s soft laughter, but taking notice of the darkened sky has you realising this moment will soon come to an end, and you will need to part ways and pretend none of this ever happened, even the new additions to your extra duties to your ceo.
your heart sinks, knowing you have grown fonder of these encounters, fonder of the man beneath you. and you don’t want it to end despite all the alarm systems in your body telling you otherwise.
you ignore them for now, relishing in the warmth from lucifer while he is still here with you.
with a smug smile, you think to yourself: enjoy it while you can.
“and me?” you ask playfully, nudging him to open his eyes. “did i make your day better?”
you hear the soft inhale he takes, discreetly breathing in the air you give and allowing it to settle his beating heart and erratic nerves. you will never know, but even in your no strings attached relationship with him, you turned him from a purely lustful man into a man capable of love.
“yes,” he chuckles, and he looks at you in a way you’ve never been looked at before. lucifer is so adoring in his gaze. “you always do.”
you smile giddily. to yourself, or to him, you’re not quite sure. perhaps it’s the after–effects of your multiple orgasms that have you grinning and kissing him again. or maybe it’s a new chapter unfolding between you.
either way, the future of your position with him and the company is a lot less daunting when lucifer is close to you like this.
“how’s that for stress relief?”
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1K notes · View notes
theemissuniverse · 7 months
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KUNG LAO INTROS X ANTIHERO!READER MK 11
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SUMMARY : MK 11 intros with Shang Tsung’s daughter. Flirting with Kung Lao
A/N : I’ve had this in my drafts for 3 weeks and I need to post it bc my drafts are clogging up so this is ass
WARNINGS : slightly suggestive
MASTERLIST
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(Y/N) VS (Y/N)
#1 (Y/N) : Are you also fond of the man with the hat?
#2 (Y/N) : Who? Erron Black?
#1 (Y/N) : Definitely not who I was talking about
#2 (Y/N) : Kung Lao is worthy of us
#1 (Y/N) : That has yet to be proven
#2 (Y/N) : Then you are not worthy of him
#1 (Y/N) : Do I really date Kung Lao in the other timeline?
#2 (Y/N) : Date? You’re married to him
#1 (Y/N) : Oh boy…
KUNG LAO VS KUNG LAO
#2 KUNG LAO : You like (Y/N)?
#1 KUNG LAO : You don’t?
#2 KUNG LAO : She’s scary
#2 KUNG LAO : In my timeline, Liu Kang ends up with (Y/N)
#1 KUNG LAO : That won’t happen this time
#2 KUNG LAO : So you say..
#1 KUNG LAO : I already called dibs!
#2 KUNG LAO : You’re not the man of her dreams
#1 KUNG LAO : You know we’re the same person right?
KUNG LAO VS (Y/N)
KUNG LAO : Double date with Liu Kang and Kitana?
(Y/N) : You could not handle a woman like me
KUNG LAO : I think it is you that cannot handle a man like me
KUNG LAO : So, you’re really Shang Tsung’s daughter?
(Y/N) : Unfortunately, yes
KUNG LAO : Let me put you out of your misery
KUNG LAO : Why can’t you admit you like me?
(Y/N) : A sorcerer has no feelings
KUNG LAO : Who are you? Noob Saibot?
KUNG LAO : What are you doing here, (Y/N)?
(Y/N) : I came to suck the soul out of you
KUNG LAO : I always knew you wanted to do it
(Y/N) : Your body would make for an excellent experiment
KUNG LAO : So, you like my body?
(Y/N) : Ugh. Never mind, you
KUNG LAO : Liu Kang says that you’re interested in me
(Y/N) : I will burn him to the ground
KUNG LAO : Don’t be mad just because your secrets out
KUNG LAO : You’re with the good guys, remember?
(Y/N) : I choose my own destiny
KUNG LAO : This is not the mistake you want to make
(Y/N) : I prefer you to Liu Kang
KUNG LAO : An incredible choice
(Y/N) : I hate excessively humble people
KUNG LAO : You always look so stressed out
(Y/N) : I am ruler of the Netherrealm. I am
KUNG LAO : Let’s relive some stress than
KUNG LAO : So what was all that talk about not being able to handle you?
(Y/N) : Ugh. Just because you are good does not mean I like you
KUNG LAO : So why did we go for ten rounds then?
KUNG LAO : Why on Earth are you entertaining Johnny’s advances?
(Y/N) : Because I know that makes you mad
KUNG LAO : Oh, you’re good
KUNG LAO : You know we get married in another timeline?
(Y/N) : What about it?
KUNG LAO : How bout we speed up the process and I put a ring on that finger now?
LIU KANG VS (Y/N)
(Y/N) : You told Kung Lao that I was interested in him?
LIU KANG : Did I lie?
(Y/N) : I do not want him to know that
LIU KANG : I also see the good in you as Kung Lao sees
(Y/N) : I am not good, Liu Kang
LIU KANG : Your actions prove otherwise
LIU KANG VS KUNG LAO
LIU KANG : I did not know your type would be, (Y/N)
KUNG LAO : You’re telling me
LIU KANG : I guess there’s a first for everything
KUNG LAO : (Y/N), does not believe I like her
LIU KANG : She’s the daughter of Shang Tsung. She’s skeptical of everything
KUNG LAO : Yeah, true
LIU KANG : I am not childish like you
KUNG LAO : Good. So you won’t sing the song?
LIU KANG : *sings* (Y/N) and Kung Lao sitting in the tree
JOHNNY CAGE VS (Y/N)
JOHNNY CAGE : Let’s say you and me take a little spin
(Y/N) : You are not my type, Cage
JOHNNY CAGE : So, I gotta own a bladed hat for you to give me a chance?
JOHNNY CAGE VS KUNG LAO
JOHNNY CAGE : Fifty bucks says that I can get (Y/N)
KUNG LAO : You really want to go broke?
JOHNNY CAGE : I - you - Oh you know what -
KUNG LAO : Stop flirting with (Y/N), Johnny
JOHNNY CAGE : Aw, jealous?
KUNG LAO : No. It’s just annoying
NOOB SAIBOT VS (Y/N)
NOOB SAIBOT : The darkness yearns for your touch
(Y/N) : I am not interested
NOOB SAIBOT : Kung Lao is not worthy of you
NOOB SAIBOT VS KUNG LAO
NOOB SAIBOT : You are not worthy of (Y/N)
KUNG LAO : And you are?
NOOB SAIBOT : Precisely
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izvmimi · 1 year
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daddy's home (2) - izuku x reader
cw: MINORS DNI, noncon/dubcon, horror themes, you and izuku have a child, parental dynamics, manipulation, villain!deku, yandere!deku, violence, fem!reader summary: izuku tries to make amends with his family after his absence. (~3.4k words) a/n: reposted. part 1 here.
As you continue to hear his footsteps approach, the dreadful sound amplified by genuine fear of your partner, you think wistfully of the past. 
Clearly, it hadn’t always been like this. Izuku, at his core, was someone sweet - bashful, kind, protective… not whatever monster was marching through your home this very second, causing your mind to race as you thought frantically of ways to protect your daughter. That was your first priority.
But he wouldn’t hurt his daughter, right? That’s where he would draw the line, no matter how altered his thoughts concerning allies versus enemies had become over time. And even if now you had drawn a clear line in the sand, you’d like to think that he wouldn’t hurt you - he hadn’t ever threatened to hurt you, now had he? He’d only given you warnings, reminding you that turning against him wouldn’t be in your best interest. After all, according to him, he’s the only one who really cares for your well-being. That’s why he married you, right?
“I... I think all of this is excessive,” you mumble to Mei as she demonstrates the security upgrades to your home. Iida shakes his head almost furiously, and seems to double and triple-check his wife’s work and potential blind spots, peering at new cameras shoved in the corners where the ceilings meet and laser tripwires invisible to the naked eye. There’s a panic device in the hallway between the kitchen and one of the living rooms hidden behind a wedding picture where both of your smiles are radiant enough to be blinding. The fact that it’s come to this makes your stomach turn. 
“In all honesty, there’s a good chance it might not be enough,” Mei admits, and the fact that for once she realistically communicates her own engineering limitations underlines how grave the situation is. If even she is admitting that she’s not infallible, that means your situation is bad.
What is he, God? You think bitterly, but resign yourself to saying nothing. You are not too distraught to accept kindness from your friends.
Bakugou, for example, now texts you every morning, a simple two words.
You good?
While you understand and appreciate where he’s coming from, every time you see those words, you can feel yourself losing your patience. If you could have your husband back, you’d be great. Fantastic even! You’d always texted back the same thing, in different variations - 
Yeah, thanks for checking!
He never responded after that. It wasn’t that he didn’t care; it’s that he still did not want to entertain the idea that his friend had gone off the deep end for too long. 
It’s hard for everyone, not just your family, you have to remember.
You can hear Izuku’s steps almost right outside your door, the pace almost synchronous with the pounding in your heart. There’s no use in hiding anymore. Steeling your resolve, you hold your slumbering daughter close for a moment, and kiss her forehead.
“Mommy loves you,” you whisper. She doesn’t stir, and you wonder what it is to be a child again, safe and naive and uncorrupted by circumstance.
And then you tumble out of the room to face him.
He stands at the end of the hall facing you; you stand, fists balled tightly by your sides and your expression unnecessarily fierce - it’s thought that fear and anger often are mistaken for each other, and Izuku seems to think so today as well.
He tilts his head slightly, and his voice is slightly raspy, deeper than usual, as he calls out to you. There’s a strained quality to it, as though his voice has been unused for a while, even though the two of you did technically just speak, or maybe he’s forgotten how to speak to you softly, how to speak to anyone with kindness.
But he tries.
“Are you mad at me, love?”
There’s a little bit of electricity in the air that you can feel in the strands of your hair that you know emanates from him. Energy that he hasn’t kept inside now that he has no reason to show any restraint. His eyes aren’t glowing however; if anything, they’re devoid of any light, dull like a lifeless forest in the dead of night. You wonder if, haggard as he appears now even if he is always and forever handsome, has come out of the wilderness. Where does he stay when he’s not here? Where is he physically when mentally he is lost?
You can’t get words out of your throat no matter how hard you try to answer him. He breathes from his nose, a sigh, and in the blink of an eye, he’s crossed the distance between you two, and has you pressed up against the wall. Caged in, his hands pressed on either side to make it clear that you have no escape, your faces are millimeters apart. This is not the man you love who values your space and your autonomy and the idea of you, above all, freely offering yourself to him. 
This is not your Izuku.
Nevertheless, not-Izuku kisses you roughly and bites your lip sharply as his mouth disconnects from yours. It’s painful and bruising and you think you taste blood, but the salt on your tongue probably comes from the tears that fall from your eyes as you tremble. 
When you look at him through a moisture-blurred view, for a moment it seems as though his eyes shine too. 
Maybe, maybe for a moment. You blink, and they’re dull again.
“Izuku, please don’t hurt her,” is the first thing that falls from your lips. 
His facial expression turns wicked for a moment and then he laughs and it is not his laugh. It’s something tinny and sick and wrong coming from him. He kisses you again, bites even harder this time, enough that you wince, and this time you are sure your lip is bleeding. 
“Hurt? Why would I hurt my princess? How could you even ask something so silly?”
Izuku presses his forehead against yours, and his cool breath runs over your wet cheeks. His hands grip your wrists and raise them up above your head, pressing the back of your hands to the wall.
“Why would I hurt her or you when you’re so vulnerable and need to be cared for?” The way he stresses that adjective - vulnerable - turns your stomach and your whole body tenses, which he notices, tightening his grip on your wrists. 
“See, love, that’s why I had to come back. I said I would come back, didn’t I? To think I’d leave the two of you alone in such a twisted, unsafe world… what kind of man would I be if I behaved like this?”
You swallow hard, unable to look at him as you search for other points to focus on. He notices.
“Don’t you dare look away from me,” he hisses. Your eyes snap obediently away from everywhere else in the room and focus on him. There’s nothing behind his eyes. You want to scream into the endless void you stare into. What happened to him? What happened to your Deku?
“W-what do you want?”
Izuku’s eyebrows furrow, and for a moment, he looks genuinely confused, like a kid faced with a particularly difficult arithmetic problem. You stun him enough with your words that he lets go of your wrists for a moment and steps back, rubbing his chin.
It wasn’t meant to be said harshly - maybe it was your grief that hardened your voice, but he seems to retreat to somewhere deep in his chest, before shaking his head.
He smiles again, that unnatural grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. 
“I thought I was coming home. Do I need permission to see my family?” he asks in a honeyed voice. 
He leans in further, pressing a scarred, calloused hand to your cheek and stroking gently. Once upon a time, you would have leaned into his palm and kissed it, maybe even pulled him closer by the collar of his shirt so that you could kiss him. 
But all you can do is freeze, and let it pass. 
And he gets impatient. His fingers now pinch instead of caressing; it would be cute, and it was once cute, when he pulled your cheeks like this to steal a kiss, but now the downturn of his lips show that he is trying very hard not to accept the truth that you are rejecting him, or at least the ‘him’ that you see before you now.
His voice flattens.
“You really thought you’d keep me out with those silly trinkets?” he growls. The other shoe has dropped.
“Who made them?” he asks. “Who did you ask to help you keep me out of my own home?”
Izuku’s hands move quickly, now cupping your chin in his hands and pulling you to him roughly as he stands, so that you’re nearly lifted up off your feet. It’s an action that’s lacking any tenderness as though he’ll yank your head clearly off your shoulders. 
“Honey? That’s a direct question, not rhetorical,” he repeats.
You don’t utter a single word, and by now he’s beyond frustrated. He lets go of your face and you lose your balance ever so slightly, but before you fall he grabs your wrist again. You pull away reflexively and a flash of anger rises in him, and he pulls even harder, enough that you can feel the tingle of his Quirk intensify. 
“Clearly, we seem to be having trouble with intimacy, so I guess we’ll have to address that first before I ask you to communicate basic information with me.” The edge to his voice is palpable but the pain of the pressure he’s putting on your arm is almost worse and you try so hard not to cry out at the sensation of him nearly crushing your bones, knowing very well that this is the least of his rough handling of you for now but then - 
“Daddy?”
Your heart stops. Izuku lets go immediately, and you turn around with a gasp to see your little girl, a flurry of nightclothes and curly green hair, leap into his arms without the slightest bit of hesitation.
No, no, no, how… of all the times to wake up! You ignore the dead feeling in your arm to run into him and shove him as he holds your daughter and twirls her around, but he barely feels you, and you practically bounce off of him like rubber on glue. 
She barely even notices you fall flat on your ass. Rather, she lets her father give her the affection she’s been missing for months, and you can only watch in abject horror as Izuku throws her up and down in the air a couple times, then asks her if she’s been good.
“Daddy, where’d you go?” She finally asks, once she’s stopped giggling. Her cheeks are rosy and excited and her eyes are bright enough to fill his darkened ones - you clutch your bruised arm and can only watch. 
Izuku glances at you then blows a raspberry in his daughter’s neck which has her giggling again.
“Mommy gave me a timeout!” he says cheerfully, holding her close. She nuzzles herself into the security of his chest, and holds tightly.
“Time out?” she murmurs. She clutches at his shirt possessively, and Izuku gives you a look. Your stare becomes hardened - it’s a plea but it’s also a threat that he better not try a single funny thing with her because then fear will give way to desperation and he will have to be prepared to kill you instantly and-
He laughs - it’s less tinny than before, but still it sucks warmth out of the room, unbeknownst to your daughter. “Yeah when you’re bad you get time out!” he reminds her, poking her belly. She laughs again and presses her hands on his cheeks squishing them.
“You can’t be bad!” she exclaims.
Izuku glances at you again, his chuckle drier and his eyes more narrow as he adjusts his baby girl in his arms.
“Well, your mommy seems to think so,” he replies, quieter this time. Somehow, she picks up the serious turn to his voice.
Your baby girl looks at you too, disheveled on the ground and breathing a bit heavier than usual, looking wrong, like a feral creature, the sudden reversal of positions being apparent in such a short time. 
She looks into your soul for a moment and furrows her eyebrows. She is thinking - assessing the situation. Her father who she hasn’t seen in quite a while is holding her tightly, her mother sits in a heap and does nothing. It is always too dark in this house these days. She can’t see clearly, not this, not anything.
“That’s not right, Mommy,” she says, finally. 
Your heart pounds. You want to charge at him,  knowing full well all you will do is traumatize your daughter at best and get yourself killed at worst. You swallow your saliva as your throat is hot and dry.
Izuku grins at you, then pats her hair gently. He sets her down and kneels to her eye level. 
“Can you be a good girl for me, sweetie?” he asks.
She nods enthusiastically, clutching fistfuls of her dress to contain her excitement at having her dad home. The longer you watch her beam the more you feel like you want to puke up your insides. What do you do? What do you do?
“Go to your room and I’ll tuck you in in a little bit, okay?”
She nods and runs off immediately, back to the center of the home where you’re not sure how much of the structure still stands appropriately, but Izuku wouldn’t send her where it’s not safe - that’s his little girl after all - and the two of you watch as her small figure disappears.
The moment she’s out of sight, you finally spit up the vitriol that’s been bubbling inside you since that horrible display.
“Fuck you.”
You’re shaking, you are so upset. The thought that he can just barge in here, and put you in an awful situation, making you look like a bad person no matter what you do. 
Izuku’s dusky eyes narrow, and in seconds he’s dragging you to your feet and pulling you into the nearest bedroom.
“Gladly.”
It doesn’t matter how hard you kick and scream and protest. Eventually, Izuku gets tired, and throws you over his shoulder, clapping a hand over your mouth. You bite his palm and he barely reacts and instead of biting harder, you break out into muffled sobs. You don’t want to hurt him, it occurs to you. You don’t have the resolve to truly take purchase into his flesh and tear away like a beast.
He throws you onto the bed and locks the door as you bury your face into the bedsheets, continuing to muffle your tears. You’re not crying because you hate him, it’s because you love him still and the situation is so awful and confusing that it’s clear that there’s no way out. You scream and terrify your daughter, and Izuku will make you the problem. If she, by some magic, understands what’s going on, is it worth it for her to develop that same darkness behind your Izuku’s eyes right now?
Izuku snorts derisively as he watches you come undone in your own mind, as the reality sets in that there is truly no way out of this situation. You sob, and you sob and you sob, and he lets you, watching you with neutrality that is so atypical of him. You’re not the first person he’s seen cry, and even if you are the most important person to him, he’s had enough of your tears. Any tears, in fact. 
He sits at the edge of the bed until your sniffles die out, then finally runs out of patience.
“Stop it.”
You rise slowly to watch him stare at you, his own eyes red-rimmed. It’s the most emotion you’ve seen out of him since today, but you can’t understand what he’s feeling. You can barely understand your own right now. 
You sniffle and he sneers.
“Stop it right now,” he repeats, harshly this time. His lips crash into yours again and he pushes you so that you lay on your back. He tears at your clothes and your defenses, and soon you are kissing back, miserable and pathetic a creature as you are.
He whispers something about loving you and never letting you go, and you don’t have the strength to whisper back but you know it’s true. Your body misses him, misses the heat of his skin against yours and the scrape of his tongue across your nipples. It misses his fingers that tease you apart and make you fall apart, the sensation of being full of love for him and physically stretched and strained to accommodate him. It misses his teeth marking you, palms sliding across every surface.
“It h-hurts, Izuku,” you moan, sucking at his shoulder to distract from the corrupted pleasure. He groans into you as he continues to dig, deeper still when your nails dig into his back, deeper still when your legs tighten around his waist. “It h-hurts,” you murmur into his neck.
“You’ll endure for me, won’t you baby?” 
He doesn’t stop; maybe he slows, but he doesn’t stop.
The truth is you will. It’s not the only thing you’ll endure for him, you think as your head swims in desire.
“You feel better than I remember,”  he groans into your ear. “Perfectly tight, like you’ve been waiting for me this entire time to reclaim you, haven’t you?”
You sigh deeply and your back arches as you climax. It’s the only answer he needs.
“You’re mine forever, no matter what, aren’t you?” he says.
Till death do we part, you think, and you crash into full, reckless indulgence. Your husband lets out a cry; his hips stutter to a stop and he pumps you full, over and over again, and before you can catch your breath, he begins again. Faster this time.
“I love you. I will love you to pieces,” he whispers into your ear, and for the first time that day, looks at you with his own eyes, the look you remember. Your eyes well up. You’ve missed him terribly.
Your arms wrap around his neck.
“I love you, too.”
There’s catching up to do.
Bakugou has not heard from you all morning, and while he tries not to think about it, he can’t help but think about it. 
It’s only been a couple hours - he sent the message somewhere around 8 am, knowing that you’re usually up by this time. However, it’s almost 11 am and you should at least be up to take your daughter to school and yet you’ve neglected to respond. 
Not even a read receipt.
Oi, just let me know you’ve seen this message, okay? He texts finally, before shoving his phone back into his pocket. There’s quite a few other things he needs to be worrying about today, including tracking members of the second iteration of the League of Villains and figuring out what exactly happened to his friend. You are fine. You have to be, he thinks. 
His phone buzzes.
Instead of a message, it’s a video according to the banner. Bakugou hesitates, and there’s a tiny bit of dread as he opens it.
And his eyes widen in horror. 
You are wrapped up in white sheets, body facing away from the camera, but he can tell from the transparency that you’re most likely wearing nothing else. By the steady rise and fall of your chest, he can tell you’re still alive, albeit fast asleep. The camera shakes ever so slightly. 
From the audio, which he turns up he can hear a voice, Izuku’s voice.
“She’s just fine, don’t worry about us.” 
The video ends and Bakugou can feel his blood run cold as his mind begins to race. Before he can play the video again to look for clues, there’s a text message that pops up.
If you text my wife again, I’ll dash your brains on the concrete.
Have a lovely day.
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