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nykie-love-anime · 3 days
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— when you get him a birthday cake
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Masterlist.
It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺
Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.7k.
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Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).
But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.
How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?
Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.
By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.
“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.
“I left you a coffee on your desk.”
God, you really were the best part about his day.
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You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.
And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.
It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.
“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.
Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.
“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.
Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.
And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.
“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.
“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”
“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.
“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”
You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.
“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.
“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”
“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”
“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”
You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.
“It looks like shit.” He smirked.
“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.
“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”
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It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.
“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”
“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”
“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.
“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”
“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.
“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”
He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.
“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.
“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.
If he could ever tell you.
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nykie-love-anime · 4 days
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for the love of ... bob? - jake seresin x reader (2/2)
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Summary: Being Jake's (best) friend - sorry, Javy - proved to have its ups and downs but there was something about having him in your corner you couldn't resist. Jake and you just clicked on a deeper level. That's why you didn't get it when the Southern boy was acting so weird.
Word count: 6.9k
Warnings: Jealous! + Soft!Jake, fluff, language, kinda angsty, kinda mean!Jake
Author’s note: I haven't seen Anyone but You (I just get the icky when I see two blondes on screen), so I took Glen's sentiment that he's not the best singer 🤷🏻‍♀️ Is it obvious yet that I really like Lewis/Bob? 😏 Who knew that I would write a Jake story and have Bob's name mentioned soooooo many times to get Jake to freak out? This chapter made me realize ... maybe I'm not good with painting a scene when I feel more comfortable just writing the banter/dialogue because at times I'm just more "clinical" when it comes to narration and I just want to get to the point. 😅
No words can describe how much everyone's reactions moved me. Especially how so many people reblogged this fic. Keep on doing what you're doing, guys! 😘
Chapter Summary: Y/N is an absolute mastermind, but Natasha is one too. Bob is an absolute sweetheart (nothing new to see here).
Tagging: @mellowstatesmanhandsempath @ravenmoore14 @blackmagicwoman @silenthappyplace @mrsevans90 @dempy @arcxnxm @hookslove1592 @djs8891
Read me on AO3
~Jake POV~
“Special delivery for Floyd.”
Maverick showed up in the break room. And, without further ado, dropped a Tupperware container on the table where Bob was sitting. Bob looked up curiously. “Huh, okay…”
Jake was sitting with the rest of the Dagger Squad on base, when his mouth hovered over his sandwich, about to take a bite.
“Y/N dropped it off at Penny’s,” Captain Mitchell explained.
At the mention of your name, Jake frowned before turning his head to inspect what Maverick just delivered.
“Oh, Bob is climbing the racks of popular guys around here,” Natasha teased. “Let me see.” She reached for the piece of paper taped on the cover.
Despite Bob’s efforts to stop her, Natasha’s actions were too swift. He observed Jake with uncertainty.
Natasha narrated the post-it, “Just a small piece of Montana so you can feel more at home, Bob. Only meant for sharing when the others have done something nice for you,” she paused. “Woah, this can be tough for some people. P.S. I’ll be your Huckleberry. Y/N. That’s cute. And then there’s some sort of smiley face.”
Bob snorted before revealing the insides of the Tupperware. The smell of dessert reached their nostrils. It left a speechless Bob behind. He smiled fondly. “Oh, … it’s Huckleberry Buckle.”
The rest of the crew groaned in delight.
“Bob, my friend,” Bradley leaned down, to drape his arm over his shoulder, “you do know that I held the door open for you this morning.”
Bob chuckled. “Just dig in, y’all. If you want some, just grab a plate and a fork.”
This was the signal for most of the Dagger Squad to spring into action.
“Don’t be animals. One for plates and one for forks,” Javy reminded them.
With sentimental eyes, Jake took another glance at the freshly baked dessert. He cleared his throat. “That’s Y/N for you. Baking stuff is Y/N’s love language,” he explained before watching Bob out of the corner of his eye while everyone dug in.
Bob took his ringing phone from out of his pocket. “Hey, yes, I—we just got it. You just made everyone’s day, I think.”
The Dagger Squad echoed with their mouths full, “We love you, Y/N! Love—love you!”
Jake intensely watched Bob while he munched on the pastry, desperately wanting to know what you two were talking about.
“You want me to—really? Did you mention that to-” Bob’s gaze met Jake’s. Once he already found him already staring at him, Bob meekly averted his eyes. “Um, yeah, sure. Hangman, it’s for you,” he said, giving him the phone.
Jake put a smile on his face when he spoke with a gravelly voice. “Hello, stranger.”
He heard you on the other end exhale. “Has anyone ever told you that you got a really sultry voice?”
Jake inhaled deeply and instantly regretted it. Choking on a crumb, Jake coughed to clear his throat. He felt his skin heat up, either your words or the chocking hazard was getting to him. “Uhm, okay?” He phrased as a question. “Not under these circumstances, no.” For good measure, he took a huge gulp of water.
“Have you asked them yet? You know, the karaoke thing?”
“No?”
Jake could basically feel you vibrating through the phone.
“Well, are you gonna? Time is of the essence.”
“Why are you so adamant to get it done this quickly?” He asked, taking another bite.
You stammered, “I need to—I just do. Aren’t we best friends?”
Jake laughed at your faltering attempt to get your way. “Of course, we are.”
“Then it’s your responsibility to make me get to know your colleagues, no questions asked. Maybe I could make you look good, huh?” Now your insistence for this event kinda made more sense.
He exhaled, “Guys, want to do karaoke night with Y/N?”
The Dagger Squad made whoops of agreement.
“You heard that? You really know how to work the crowd, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I have to make use of my strengths.”
Jake shook his head. “I can tell.”
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“Now I know why we never did karaoke together,” Natasha mused before knocking back a drink of tequila.
“What?” Jake was still smiling widely when he stepped off stage.
“That was horrendous to watch. And I’m not even talking about what we were just forced to listen to.”
He rolled his eyes at her dig. “Come on, you’re just being mean. Y/N, hey, tell them.” Jake widened his arms, expecting you to snuggle up to his chest.
As if reading his mind, you stepped into his arms. Almost like you were keeping him in suspense, you licked your lips and patted his chest consolingly. “You looked really handsome up there on stage.”
“See?” Jake looked around to challenge his witnesses before realization hit him. He followed you as you stepped away from him. “Wait, what?”
Any disappointed feelings evaporated within him when Jake sat next to you on the couch which oversaw the karaoke stage and spoke softly, “You having fun?”
You leaned against his side, feeling content with just doing your familiar tradition. “You know I do. Thanks for being such a good sport about this.”
“You mean for me being such a horrible singer?”
“You’re tolerable,” you said soothingly and stroked the back of his neck.
“Gee, thanks.”
You nudged your head against his shoulder. “Kidding. You have a great shower voice.”
With a frowning face, Jake stared at you.
You paused in thought. “That sounded weird, didn’t it?”
“Already forgotten.”
“You’re such a sweetheart.” You briefly leaned your head back into the crook of his neck.
The expression which bordered between mischief and intimacy on Jake’s face was only meant for you to see. “Careful, darlin’. With words like that, you’re starting to make all the girls here jealous.”
“I’m good, thanks,” Natasha interjected, jolting you from your thoughts. “Don’t know if you guys are disgusting or just too adorable together.”
You chuckled, hiding your face behind your hair.
Jake leaned his arm against the back of the couch you were sitting on and said with a teasing voice, “Oh, Phoenix, is there something you want to tell?”
A mysterious smile lingered on Natasha’s lips. “I don’t know. Is there something you want to tell?”
Jake remained silent when he narrowed his eyes. “Nope.”
“Pity,” Natasha retorted.
“This tension is getting way too thick for me.” You decided and braced yourself to stand up. “Bob’s song choice is calling my name.”
At the mention of his name, Jake turned his head in an almost comical way. “Wait, Bob?”
You turned halfway around. “Definitely. I think I’m feeling ‘Take Me Home, Country Roads’, you know?”
Natasha gave her vote of confidence. “Don’t let Bob fool you. He’s great. As long as you don’t get into a duet with Rooster.” Her eyes widened at that specific scenario. “I’m serious. I can’t take one more ‘Great Balls of Fire’ today.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Jake stood up, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “We’re singing together, right?”
“Of course we are, buddy. It’s tradition,” you said, patting his cheek before leaving again.
Jake sat back down with a sigh, mouthing, “Buddy?” to himself.
“You must have really scared her off with your karaoke performance, … buddy,” Natasha teased next to him.
“You know what?” Jake brooded over his next retort. “Why don’t you have fun with your next Britney song, huh?”
“Thanks. If I play my cards right, I could convince Y/N to join me. I bet she likes Toxic, huh?”
“Everyone does.” Knowing that you wouldn’t mind that one bit.
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~ Jake POV ~
“Another plane, another train. Another bottle in the brain. Another girl, another fight. Another drive all night,” You rapped without having care in the world while you mimicked guitar sounds. With your arm slung over his shoulder, Jake carried your body inside.
“You know, I got neighbors, right? I don’t know if they’d appreciate you hollering to the Beastie Boys.”
As if the thought just hit you, you rasped, “I could do it while whisper-yelling. You know, show them some taste.”
Jake shook his head at your antics. “You and your 90’s songs.”
“That was actually late 80’s.”
Jake only chuckled at your musical knowledge shining through. “Someone’s not drunk, huh? Do I need to carry you to bed?”
“Oh, Mr. Lieutenant Seresin-” You leaned back with a smirk, inspecting Jake thoroughly. That gaze alone, and that rank drop, sent a surprising shiver down his spine.
-“You know, I’m not that kinda girl.”
“Oh my God,” he whispered. “Only you would try to flirt in your affectionate state.”
“I’m always flirting with you.”
That reminder unsettled Jake, especially since that sort of affection seemed unusual to other people. For some reason, he didn’t want to lose that. Jake swallowed, frowning. “Yeah, that … that’s what we do. We’re just really, uh…”
“Really secure in our friendship,” you added, holding onto his arms.
His eyes lit up, feeling grateful for your words and warm from your touch. “Exactly. We are.”
You smirked. “How secure do you feel with Javy?”
“Hey, that’s very different. I’m very comfortable with ‘touching guys’, but we’re not in the flirty stage.”
You pursed your lips, imagining that specific scenario. “So, you’re saying you could get there with him one day.”
He didn’t have to ponder about that. “Nope. There’s never been the need for that.”
“Oh, you’re saying I’m special, sweetheart?” Your hold shifted into a tight hug.
“Don’t fish for compliments. You know you are,” Jake whispered quietly, like he was sharing something only for you to know.
“Oh, that’s nice,” you muttered. Snuggling deeper into his strong shoulders while enjoying his warmth. “Damn, your shoulders are really something else, huh? Did I already say that?”
Jake’s shoulders shook with laughter. “It’s fine.”
Like a gentle and exploring piano player, your fingers danced around his shoulder. “You must get them compliments all the time from everyone else.”
“I don’t care about everyone else,” Jake paused.
“Sorry for objectifying you. You’re a real nice guy.”
“First, I don’t mind you objectifying me. Second, don’t you dare call me nice.”
“Oh, you’re just a sweetheart and I don’t get why you don’t let others see that.” Jake felt his body vibrate when you nestled deeper into his neck. Maybe it was easier for Jake to admit stuff if he didn’t have to look at you.
That thought process was eviscerated when you leaned back to stare into his eyes. You stroked his cheeks with deep consideration. “You know, sometimes I keep thinking you deserve so much more than the small scraps of brief flings you’re setting for yourself.”
Almost allured, Jake leaned his face into your palm. Before he caught himself with that infuriating smile. “Oh, you’re thinking about me having sex. Is there something you want to tell me?”
He could feel your disappointment deeply in his core when you sighed heavily. “Jake, you really know how to kill the mood.”
Jake smiled proudly. “Thanks. I really worked hard on that skill.”
With wide eyes, your whole stance changed. “I changed my mind. Can you take me to bed, in a purely platonic way?”
“Only because you asked nicely.”
“Oh, proof that Jake Seresin is secretly a gentleman.” As soon as he offered his smile, you squeezed his dimples, like he was a little kid.
Jake shook his head. “Okay, I think it’s time for bed.”
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“And the great Hangman takes aim. Will he be able to defeat the local competition or forfeit his winning streak?”
Jake sighed at hearing Rooster commenting with high anticipation on their pool game at their usual hangout. His arm, holding the cue, hesitated on the pool table. “Rooster, if I have to listen to your droning voice any longer-”
Rooster leaned over the cushion, whispering teasingly, “Why? Am I getting inside your head?”
Jake scoffed at the insinuation. “You think you can get to me with mind games? I invented those.” He pulled his arm back. The moment he saw you enter, a fond smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he saw you laugh with Natasha and -
-pat Bob’s arm?
Jake pushed the cue forward. And watched in apprehension as it slipped away from the ball. “Fuck me,” he grumbled. He couldn’t look away from the unfolding car accident of his play as the ball slithered frustratingly to the middle of the table.
Rooster snorts morphed into boisterous laughter. “Outstanding performance. At least something is getting to you. Are you sure you’re as good as you claim to be?”
Jake whipped his head around. “You know, why don’t you play one of your piano sessions?”
“That would be kind of hard to do since-” Rooster leaned forward with his cue stick. “-you know, I’m beating you.”
Jake cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. He felt his eyes wander surreptitiously to the pair sitting at the bar. Jake made grumbling noises when Penny covered his view as his fingers tightened around the cue stick.
“Ace, you need a special invitation or are you considering to surrender already?” Jake heard the annoying voice behind him. It took everything inside him to not give up and wander where he really wanted to go.
“You’re a hilarious bird.”
Jake lined up his shot.
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~ Y/N POV ~
“Okay, what did I miss?”
When you turned your head, Jake sauntered next to you. It took you another glance until you noticed something amiss. “Woah, what happened? You look really hot,” you said, inspecting Jake’s forehead with the back of your hand.
Jake smirked. “Well, thank you. I try my best.”
You rolled your eyes at Jake’s antics to view everything as a compliment. “No, you dork. I mean, you’re like really sweaty. Did you overdo it with the testosterone match?”
“I think I did it just right,” Jake sputtered.
“Who won?”
His green eyes twinkled at the spoken challenge, making your heart flutter. “Who do you think?”
It took you less than a few seconds to look towards Bradley, who swaggered behind Jake. “Who won?”
Jake opened his mouth to gasp at your cheekiness not to trust his word. “I won! What are you asking him for?”
“Barely,” Bradley mouthed, making you giggle. “Totally. I was absolutely … destroyed.” His eyes turned serious when Jake’s gaze found his. “I need some beer to recharge,” he said, moving away.
With a conspiring demeanor, Natasha leaned forward to whisper into your ears. “Oh please, let me tell him.”
Jake’s head moved in her direction. “Oh, you’re here too. Tell me what?”
She placed her hands on your shoulders, slightly shaking your body with her utter enjoyment. “Someone’s gotten herself a date,” Natasha trilled with a sing-song voice.
The glower on Jake’s face sent shivers through your body. You felt uncertain at seeing his reaction. You tried to tell yourself that Jake was just being an overprotective friend. His gaze alternated between yours and Natasha’s before it finally landed on Bob’s.
A wide-eyed Bob swallowed his cup of water. “Not me. I mean, not that Y/N isn’t … you know-” You felt touched that Bob tried to rectify his statement by not wanting to hurt your feelings when he truly looked at you. “You’re really pretty. A guy would be lucky to have you.”
You inwardly gushed at Bob’s gentlemanly ways and felt utterly compelled to give him a hug. Instead, you held him by the shoulder. “Oh Bob, you’re such a sweetheart. You just earned yourself a dance. Pick a song.” With an energetic jump, you moved from your stool and went towards the jukebox.
“I didn’t want to make things weird for the team,” Bob whispered with wide eyes.
There was something akin to respect shining in Jake’s eyes when he nodded once before staring calmly at Natasha. He tried really hard not to reveal his candid emotions on his face. Jake promised to himself, he wouldn’t clench his jaw or cross his arms. He felt like a twitching fool when he was about to cross his arms. Instead, he was forced to let his arms glide downwards before he stroked his abdominal muscles. In the end, he awkwardly hid his hands in the back pockets of his pants.
Natasha smiled mysteriously. “Don’t worry, I’m a great matchmaker. She’s in the safest hands.”
“Phoenix,” Jake started, before he inwardly winced. He crossed his arms and spoke slowly, “what are you doing?”
She shrugged. “Just listening. Y/N mentioned something when we were talking.”
He couldn’t help tilting his head in intrigue. “What exactly?”
“That’s for me to know and you to butt out.” Natasha’s expression softened when she tried to soften the blow. “All in good time. I have a plan. It’s gonna sound weird, but you seem like someone who likes having their best friend close. This is me ensuring to make San Diego as appealing as possible to her. I’m just saying—if she wants to stay,” she said, shrugging her shoulders.
“By giving her a date? You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense.”
“Best-case scenario: She’s gonna have the time of her life with the potential to meet the love of her life while getting a meal out of the date.” Natasha lifted the palms of her hands like a scale to weigh the chances. “Worst case: death by boredom. And next thing you know, Y/N is gonna seek comfort from her best friend after realizing that all naval aviators are douchebags.”
Jake groaned at the thought. “Ugh, great. It’s a damn naval aviator?”
She tilted her head in fascination. “Short question: does she have a thing for aviators? There was a fangirl moment when I mentioned Mav.”
He winced before murmuring, “It’s a statistics thing. Don’t mention Iceman around her.”
Natasha nodded. “Noted.”
“You’re way too involved in this.” Jake pressed his lips together, hoping to see her ultimate endgame. “What’s in it for you?”
“Not everything’s an agenda.” Natasha brushed by him, moving away.
Jake narrowed his eyes with deep suspicion. “And that’s not really an answer.”
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~ Y/N POV ~
You could feel your heart beating nervously in your chest. Even your stomach was being all fluttery when you looked into the bathroom mirror while putting mascara on your eyelashes. You heard shuffling behind you before you met green eyes in the reflection.
Your voice echoed in the bathroom. “Jake, you’re hovering like a mother hen.” You didn’t bother turning around since you needed to focus on the task at hand, in order not to go crazy with anxiety. His rare controlling persona wasn’t helping matters.
Jake leaned his shoulder against the door jamb. “I’m just curious, that’s all. You’ve never met the guy. Assuming it’s a man, I don’t want to presume.” He waved his arms around. “I wouldn’t put it past Phoenix to put you on a blind date with a girl.”
You pursed your lips while mentioning casually, “Nat did mention that most of the aviators on the force were duds.”
Jake grimaced. “Going to ignore that,” he mumbled under his breath.
You wiped some mascara remnants from your eyelid. “Your sex not being dating material or me hypothetically dating the same team?”
Jake shook his head, clearing his throat. “So, where are you two lovebirds meeting tonight? Romantic restaurant, picnic by the waterfront?”
The annoyed growl leaving your mouth surprised you. Normally, you weren’t an irrational person who was prone for aggravation. His hovering presence distracted you in an inefficient way. “Seresin, you’re starting to cramp me in this bathroom.” You puzzled yourself more than him when you shoved him through the door. “All answers will be given in the living room after I had some breathing room.”
As soon as the door was closed, it felt like you could breathe again. You exhaled a heavy breath. “Oh my God,” you whispered.
“I heard that!” Jake protested behind the door.
“Good!”
Jake released the breath he was holding. He was sitting on the couch, drumming his fingers on his thigh. He mindlessly watched ‘The Real Housewives of New Jersey’ on his TV, needing something to run in the background while he was waiting for you to come out. Every time he heard noises coming from the bathroom, Jake craned his head, unable to tamp down his curiosity.
The moment the door closed again, he felt nervous energy coming off of him. And he didn’t truly understand why. Jake heard your shuffling feet in the distance before you finally came out. It felt like the breath had been knocked out of his body.
There was something about a Y/N in a sundress and ballet flats that made him feel very weird. You swung around to show off the full effect of your date attire.
“So, what’s the verdict? Does it meet the expectations of Jake Seresin at least?”
“Um-” Jake cleared his throat before he averted his gaze. “-it looks good.”
“Oh, if the dress looks good… Lucky me, huh?”
“Whoever you’re meeting tonight, they’re the lucky ones.”
“Oh.” You rushed forward, hugging Jake sideways in gratitude. “I like when sweet and charming Jake comes out. He’s such a gentleman.”
“I’m going to assert plausible deniability, in case you decide to reveal my secrets.” Jake shared a small smile with you, reminding himself to at least appear like he was fine with the thought of you going out with another naval aviator.
“I wouldn’t. Not for a good trade at least.”
Jake pointed at you as a reminder. “No apple pie.”
You threw your head back, groaning loudly. “How about a strudel?”
“Not even that.”
“Fine.” She leaned back against the couch before whispering quietly, – like you had to remind yourself - “I need to get going.”
He looked up. “You want me to drive you?”
“That’d be weird, wouldn’t it?”
Jake had to keep trying. “To pick you up then.”
A small part of him would remember fondly how he made you chuckle. “Even weirder flex. I’ll be fine.”
The goodbye kiss on his cheek made him sigh before he nodded with a resolved air. “Text me when you need a getaway car.”
You laughed airily. “Alright.”
It was an hour later when he was already lying in bed and mindlessly scrolling through social media on his phone when he received a text from you.
Don’t need a getaway car.
Nodding dazedly to himself, Jake whispered, “That’s just … great.”
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Jake was proving to be an utterly, frustrating man. It had been fifteen minutes since you said good morning that Jake had uttered a word. Only the sound of awkward breakfast crunching could be heard.
You sighed when you saw Jake eye you inscrutably again. He truly thought he was being covert. “Okay, when are we going to break the tension?”
“What tension? There’s no tension.” Jake kept munching on his cornflakes. Like he didn’t have a care in the world. Granted, Jake was the kind to keep on eating food, even when he wasn’t feeling well. “It’s a wonderful morning. I’m having breakfast.” Jake scarfed down a mouthful. “There’s nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever.” To prove his point, he offered a close-lipped smile.
You narrowed your eyes in speculation. Talking gibberish was very unlike him. “You want to know how last night went.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“You don’t want to know,” you repeated slowly and in strong incredulity.
“Yep, no interest.” Jake paused in thought. “Unless you want to talk about your date.”
“I’m not going to force you into a conversation if you couldn’t care less.”
“I do care,” Jake rushed with his reply before his voice turned casual again. “I mean a meager amount.”
“Is this like a guy thing?” You sniffed, taking on a low manly voice for effect. “I don’t mind talking about my latest conquest but I’d rather die than talk about it in a meaningful way.”
“First, I hope that wasn’t an impression of me.”
Your face took on a blank expression before you crossed your arms. Waiting for Jake to continue with his list.
“Second, I don’t mind talking about your … dates, as long as it’s not, you know-” He winced. “-sexual.”
“Jesus, that was a first date. And besides, I don’t know if that’s sexist or something else, that you’re allowed to talk about that stuff, but not me?”
“I don’t know why we’re going the feminist route, but with you it’s just different,” he mumbled before shrugging.
“Why?”
“Because you’re my best friend,” Jake responded fervently. “And none of these guys deserve you.” His voice turned quiet, becoming serious all of a sudden. “You deserve someone better.”
Disappointment filled your body at Jake’s perspective. Recounting all the times in your head when you would tell him how he deserved someone who could challenge him, yet appreciate the things about him which made him such a decent and caring guy. It was a pity that Jake would rather wallow in his self-loathing, while pretending to be the most egotistical guy that ever existed than to be vulnerable for once.
Your shoulders deflated when you realized that maybe he would never be ready to have a meaningful relationship—or any relationship at all that progressed over the 3-day mark—and you swore that a small part of you died right there on the kitchen floor. Feeling more hopeless than ever.
Before you could fully understand the reason why this bothered you so much, Jake’s concerned expression pulled you out of the deepest parts of yourself.
“What? What’d I say?”
You shook your head. Never feeling this gloomy before. “You know, for someone who claims to be so smart, you’re just so dang stupid.” Every single word felt like it was torn painfully from between your lips.
“What?”
You just felt too tired to make Jake understand. It felt easier to just turn your body away. Despite how much you hated appearing this careless towards him. “I got to go. I’ll see you later, Jake.”
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~ Jake POV ~
“Well, someone’s in a bad mood.” Natasha teased him. Despite them having to endure the same punishment by being forced to do push-ups next to each other, Natasha still seemed to be in a formidable mood.
Jake turned his head. Not caring particularly that he sent her a dark glower.
“Don’t hang your head, Hangman. I doubt you could’ve evaded Mav’s hit on your best day.”
“Shut up,” he grumbled. Inwardly, he winced. His ma would have his hide if she heard him talking like that to anyone.
“What? No comeback? I wonder what else could be bothering you,” she mused to herself.
Natasha didn’t fool him one bit. Jake wondered if she had it out for him and that was why she focused so hard on Y/N.
“What do you think, Bob?” She decided to thrust the knife even deeper.
Even at the mention of his name, Jake swore his forehead garnered the first droplets of sweat.
Bob chose to focus on his push-ups before grunting, “I’m not getting in the middle of this.”
“You’re way too nice.”
Jake clenched his jaw. “Yes, someone’s a real goody two-shoes.”
Bob turned his head, looking bewildered. “What did I do?”
“Oh, just sweet and perfect Bob who can do nothing wrong.”
Heavy footsteps came closer. “Why do I hear chattering and see no push-ups over here?” Maverick’s voice came over their heads.
“Understood, Sir,” Bob automatically replied.
Jake kept his mouth closed. As much as it pained him.
After the completion of their punishment and he had taken a shower, Jake hurried after Natasha in the rec room. “I need to talk to you.”
Natasha tilted her head. “I thought we already did.”
“Who was the date?”
She exhaled in exasperation, glaring at him. “You’re so predictable, Hangman,” she said, turning around to leave.
“Wait, wait. I’m sorry-”
Natasha stopped in her tracks. She swivelled her head, frowning. “An apology? You just bought yourself two minutes of my time. Go on.”
“Was it Bob?”
Natasha breathed out slowly, pausing in thought. “…You have a weird fixation on Bob. I wonder why that is.”
Jake cleared his throat and crossed his arms. “I don’t-”
“Just kidding. I know why that is. And no. I asked, but he refused.” She shook her head, revealing that this bothered her more than she wanted to admit. “Honorable little fucker,” Natasha grumbled. She chose to clarify instead. “He wouldn’t have minded to date Y/N, but, you know- Didn’t he tell you this already?”
Bob did mention that. But Jake couldn’t help thinking that he might have changed his mind. He averted his gaze, feeling slightly depraved that he considered Floyd doing that. “Maybe. But still.”
Natasha raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “What does it matter who the lucky fella was? What are you gonna do? Scare the hell out of them?”
It was indeed bad when someone like Phoenix could predict his future plans. “If it’s someone who doesn’t deserve her, then yes.”
She hummed. “If you know her so well, then tell me, what kind of person do you think Y/N deserves?”
Jake spread his arms. It felt strange how a list of things ran through his head and how they just rolled off his tongue. “Someone nice. Someone who just gets her and adores her little quirks. Just a gentleman.” He counted the amount of traits with his fingers. “Funny, maybe a bit sensitive or vulnerable. Good-looking, but that’s not as high up on her list as the inner qualities.”
Natasha remained quiet. Her brown eyes were staring at him with a profound expression. “Very insightful. Interesting qualities you just listed off. Anyone you know that could fulfil those strengths?”
At the mere mention, he felt like he was put in the spotlight. Either she wanted him to say ‘Bob’ – since those characteristics could cover him easily—or maybe utter his own name. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much he wanted to be with you. And wanted to be a part of you.
Jake carefully glanced at Natasha. Not trusting her look of consideration, he narrowed his eyes. He spoke slowly. “I’m not sure.”
“Pity. I could be persuaded into making something happen, if you know what I mean.”
Jake licked his lips, knowing exactly what she was trying to get him to admit. He pressed his lips together.
“But … you would actually need to say the words.” She waited patiently before sighing. “My patience knows its limits though. So, if you got nothing to say, then…” Natasha pointed behind her to threaten her departure. She nodded to herself once before saying, “Okay.” And walked towards the exit.
Jake opened his mouth, as he watched her walk away. He didn’t understand where his courage was coming from when the words left his mouth. “Natasha, would you squeeze me in as Y/N’s date?” He knew how he’d usually call her ‘Phoenix’ or in very rare instances ‘Nat’ so he figured that she caught him in a vulnerable mood for a change.
She dramatically turned around and pursed her lips. “Depends. Will you also apologize to Bob for being an absolute dick?” She paused. “Again?”
Jake sighed. “Listen, I don’t-”
“It’s called being a decent human being. It’s the least you could do. Not to mention-” Natasha tapped her chin mockingly. “-I can’t imagine how Y/N would feel if she found out that someone was being this rude to sweet Bob. I mean, what do you think? How would she feel about that?”
He revealed a tight smile at the slight warning. There was no need to hit below the belt. He would have done it anyway if Natasha said he was being a jerk. “Fine, I got your point. I’ll apologize,” he grunted lowly.
She smiled cheerily. “Now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
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You felt bad about ignoring Jake, you thought, while you waited in the midst of the amusement park of Belmont Park. Ever since this morning, things had been weird between you. Or Jake was just being his stubborn and obstinate self.
You had been baffled since Natasha sent you a message that the date location had changed. The more you looked around, you realized that you would’ve loved to spend time with Jake at this place. You exhaled with disappointment. Jake would absolutely force you on the roller-coaster, but then feel bad once your stomach was upset by buying you a funnel cake.
Deciding that your bond with Jake was far too important than to leave everything hanging like that, you yearned to clear the air. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through your contacts until your thumb pressed against the name.
The sound of a cell ringing in the distance made you turn your body in uncertainty. You frowned once you saw Jake advancing with hesitation, waving an arm in greeting.
“Hey, you.”
You hung up your phone, trying to grasp his presence. “What are you doing here? Did you want to ride the Giant Dipper, or something?”
Jake smiled awkwardly. “I wouldn’t actually mind that. Depends if my best friend would be up for it too?” You tried to prepare yourself against his puppy dog eyes as he stepped closer. The movement made you take notice of his suave appearance. You swore you could feel your knees weakening when you saw him wearing his jeans and a pressed white dress shirt.
Jake rubbed his hands against the fabric of his pants.
Not wanting to hurt him, you spoke slowly. “That’s hard to say. I’m kind of on a date. Just waiting, I guess.”
“Yeah, I know. Natasha told me.”
You felt befuddled by his explanation. “Why … would she do that?”
“I asked her to?” Jake phrased the statement into a cautious question.
You pursed your lips as you tried to understand why she would do that in the first place. “Did you bribe her?”
Jake blushed at a memory when he explained with a gravelly voice, “I think I paid her off by giving her the satisfaction in seeing me grovel.”
“How did that look like?” You said, feeling fascinated by the concept of a begging Jake. Even that word didn’t seem to fit him.
“You don’t want to know, trust me.” Jake grew silent before something akin to hope lit up his eyes. “Why did you want to call me?”
You cleared your throat. “Why are you here?”
Teasingly, Jake pointed at you. “I asked you first.”
You sighed. “I wanted to clear the air.” Still, you were not above getting one small dig in. “Unlike some people, I wanted to be the grown-up one here.”
Jake narrowed his eyes. “Now someone’s just being cheeky.” He exhaled, willing to admit any wrongdoings. “I’m sorry for being a dick.”
“Why were you?” You spoke softly. Just because he was your close friend didn’t mean that Jake would get special treatment.
Jake stepped closer until you were only a foot apart. “Because I have a talent for it. Because it’s easier to just pretend. Because of you going out … with a naval aviator just pissed me off. Because I-” He breathed in, like he was preparing for you to hit him. “-I really, really like you.”
You blushed, not yet trusting if he meant it or if this was just some strange prank he wanted to pull off. “You like me,” you repeated, unable not to tease him just a little bit. “And here I thought most of the time I was your annoying best friend.”
“I think you’re confusing yourself with Javy.”
You cocked your head playfully. “Oh? Do you really, really like him too?”
He pursed his lips, like he needed to entertain that thought first. “He’s just alright, I guess. I mean, I more than like you. It’s like obnoxious.”
Wow, and here you thought, Jake could prove to be an adult for once. So, unless he decided to brandish a real love confession that didn’t sound like the most aggravating nuisance, you could do the same.
“Oh my God, you’re like a big kid, huh? Using those big boy words.”
His eyes were burning with sage fire. “You’re just so infuriating at times.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Says the great Jake?”
“That’s what I mean! You’re driving me absolute insane. You’re making friends with everyone you meet.” Jake counted at his fingers. “Maverick, Bob!-”
You furrowed your eyebrows. “What’s Bob got to do with this?”
“He’s like-” Jake grimaced. “-And you’re-” He waved towards you, very eloquently describing the issue at hand.
“I think somewhere was a compliment. Let me just reiterate: you think Bob’s a great, wonderful guy and I’m just-”
“Perfect,” he uttered with a hoarse voice.
You inhaled deeply, stammering nervously. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“It’s still the truth.”
“What if you’re only saying all of this because you can’t stand the idea of me getting with a naval aviator?” You voiced your inner worries, absolutely needing him to be truthful.
Jake opened his mouth several times before admitting, “Partly true. But the truth is, Nat made me realize I was just being too chicken to fully admit that I … I can’t imagine not spending the day with you. You make me think about you all the time. Even when I’m out with the guys and I keep thinking ‘Oh wow, Y/N would love to try out that drink’ or ‘As much as you’re a talker during Sunday Night Football-”
“Not always,” you mumbled quietly.
“-you still make it fun.”
You pressed your lips together, feeling very nervous and emotional by his words.
“Maybe I just didn’t realize I was in love with you until the concept truly hit me, that you might be into a … nice guy like Bob.”
Despite his familiar self-loathing, you couldn’t help reminding him with a small smile, “You’re a nice guy too, Jake.”
“Only with you.”
Jake’s confession made your heart palpitate in your chest nervously.
“So,” Jake started, “what do you feel for me?”
You hummed to yourself before confessing, “Ditto.”
Jake huffed loudly. “Oh my God. Of course, you’d be aggravating about it.”
“I’m just saying, maybe I really, really like you too.”
He shook his head, trying to suppress a smile. As much as you could tell what he wanted to hear from you.
In the end, you chose to take a chance. “Let’s just say, there are more times when I realized over the years how I’m in love with you than the amount of times when I can’t stand you. The second is pretty close though.”
You couldn’t have been prepared for Jake’s wide and blinding smile.
“Ditto.”
You rolled your eyes, while revealing a small smile on your lips. You decided to put him out of his misery when you admitted, “Nat was my date.”
“Wa-wait, what?”
You shrugged your shoulders. “She said that she had a specific guy in mind, but he wasn’t ready yet. I just thought it was someone who was still out on a mission. So, we hung out last night.”
Jake still remained confused. “And did what?”
“Nosy,” you mumbled. “Karaoke and stuff like that.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” He inquired with wide eyes.
“I wanted to, but you decided to be a jerk about it.”
Jake narrowed his eyes, shaking his head. “Nat ‘Fucking Mastermind’ Trace.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Jake looked at your surroundings, hiding his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Do you want to go on a date?”
You smirked. “Like a platonic one?”
“Nope, like a real one. You know, the romantic kind. I promise to make it a bit fun, unique and unforgettable.”
“That’s a big promise.”
Jake smirked arrogantly. “I’m aware. It also perfectly describes me.”
You groaned loudly. “And here we go. I want Nice Guy Jake though and not the obnoxious one.”
He was walking alongside you, nodding. “I’ll tell him to take an off-day.”
“What is it about you and Bob though? He’s just a really stand-up guy. Really funny.”
“So am I.”
“Sometimes. Let’s just say, we just get each other. You know, cut from the same cloth.”
Jake hummed. At least he was no longer being a caveman when it came to Bob. “Okay,” he said, laying his arm over your shoulder.
“I mean, he was just helping me rent an apartment in the city,” you explained, gauging his reaction.
“What?”
“Yes, he offered to put in a good word and Nat sent me a few listings.”
It seemed like the rare event of a speechless Jake took place. “Huh, that’s-”
“As I live and breathe, a speechless Jake Seresin was just seen out and about.” You glanced at him through your eyelashes. “I think you were about to say that’s a real stand-up guy thing to do, huh?”
Jake sighed, not wanting to admit reluctant respect before mumbling something under his breath which sounded close to, “Damn it, now I really got to apologize.”
You turned your head. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“It’s okay. There’s still time for you to deal with your big boy emotions,” you replied before you chose to do something new. By taking his hand and interlacing your fingers together. “And here I thought, judging from your letters, you had more of a rivalry thing going with Bradley.”
“I know, right? I thought I would feel threatened by Rooster of all people. But Bob?”
“Let’s just say, in another life Bob would’ve swept me off my feet,” you retorted, patting him against his chest.
His blank expression could be described as something where he tried to imagine that so-called horror reality. “… Don’t even joke about that.”
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nykie-love-anime · 5 days
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cum here
Warnings: spit, dub con
A Bakugou Birthday collab read the intro on the ML first!
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A notification pulls your attention in your tipsy stupor as you collapse half dressed in your bed. Another successful night out with your girlfriends when your favorite pro hero posts a picture.
A thirst trap no less making you pop up in bed, the room spins delightfully as you stare down at the picture, screen shooting it without a care that he may get a notification for it but you were sure that you wouldn't be the only one.
Bakugou Katsuki, THE Dynamight with his shirt up exposing his abs, his Adonis belt and the vein that leads down to what has to be his fat cock.
You salivate over the thought of it and the several shots of tequila have you feeling bold, although your friends would argue you'd have been this bold sober simply because of how much you spoke about him even if most of the public thought he was an asshole you claimed that's what made him so fucking hot.
Pushing up your tits and angling your phone just right before you snap a photo and attach it to a very public reply before you slip into his dms to send a little something extra.
Bakugou's phone becomes nuclear to say the least, blown up from how many replies and notifications has gotten in such a short time. Each and every woman and the few male prospects are more than attractive and yet none make his cock jump to life, not fully anyway.
Until he sees you, tapping on the picture to make it full screen.
Soft fat tits pressed together, skin aglow in the ambient low light of warm string lights. Tongue lolling past pretty lips, wet muscle most likely fluttering before you took the picture. Obvious that you waited long enough for drool to drip from the tip in a silvery string as some droplets collected on those perfect tits. Pinching his screen to zoom in on your sexy mouth he imagines pressing his angry cock head against before he shoved his length until you gagged around him.
He groans at the thought, zooming out to take in all of you before he finally reads the caption..
Cum here.
“Fuck.” He growls, clicking on your profile, going to privately message you in hopes of more pictures. Palm moving to free his cock from his boxers when he sees you messaged him first.
Sharing your location with the pro hero like a fucking idiot. What if Bakugou had been hacked?
And here you were offering yourself up on a silver platter.
Cum here echoes in his head as he backs out to your selfie and before he can talk himself out of it he's jumping back into the tight black denim that never made it past his thighs.
You lock your phone falling back into your bed after you've seen that he's read your messages. Sighing as you hadn't expected much else, especially since it was his birthday and half of the feed were thirst traps of others tagging Dynamight in hopes of getting his attention. He ignored every single one of them, even from well known models and porn stars, so what chance did you really have?
Still, it was fun to be a little delusional every now and again.
Fireworks echo in the distance and you're surprised the spring festival was going this late into the night. Never one to miss a good show you rise from your bed, topless and half drunk to watch the last of the fireworks before you'd pass out, sleep well past noon before ordering a fat order or take out.
Leaving the sliding glass door open when the cool night air makes you shiver and regret foregoing a shirt. Eyes adjusting to the dark easily but your eyebrow furrows up in confusion. You hear the fireworks but you can't see them.
At least not well, a small orange burst that makes you wonder if maybe they aren't fireworks at all, that maybe it was just a villain making their grand escape.
Scoffing you turn, closing the sliding glass door only for it to be stopped in its tracks. Looking up for see a hulking shirtless man shrouded in darkness on your balcony. Smoke, caramel and whisky envelope your senses as the man breathes evenly behind you. You blink once, twice before you register his eye color.
Toxic, crystalline bromine.
"Dynamight?”
“In the flesh, Sweetheart.” He removes his hand from the frame of the door, takes a step towards you and you step back.
Stalking forward until you're both fully in the room and he delights in the mixture of emotions in your eyes. Fear, excitement, arousal.
“Haaah, what's wrong? Little kitty is acting more like a cornered bunny. Ya scared?” He leers over you, crowding your space, “Shouldn't be. Yer the one who invited the big bad wolf.”
Grabbing onto your chin to turn your pretty face this way and that, he doesn't even need to force his eyes away from your chest, your face captivates him that much. He runs his tongue across his teeth before he smirks.
“Now where am I supposed to cum again?” His large thumb swipes over your plush lips before he shoves it between them, forcing your mouth open.
He tries to recreate the picture you sent him, watches the wet muscle flutter and it makes him salivate. Makes him gather it in his mouth before he's pushing it the tip of his tongue letting his spit hit your tongue.
“Right here wasn't it?” He mixes his spit with yours with his thumb, pressing down on your tongue harshly. He watches your eyes widen before they narrow, into that hungry cat gaze that was in your photo.
Eyes that devour him whole as you hollow your cheeks to suck on his thumb. Swirling it around the digit before you pop off of him, the lewd sound echoing around the two of you.
You're fast, faster than Bakugou, especially drunk, expects. Jumping onto him and wrapping your legs around his waist, bucking your hips to make him fall onto the bed with a grunt as your tongue slides into his mouth. He paws at you heavily, grabbing at all your delicious softness as he growls into your mouth, calloused hands still warm from his journey here. Launching himself into the air that did little to sober him after he stalked your profile enough to get your apartment floor and balcony right.
Your claws dig into the nape of his neck as you bring him into a sitting position parting the kiss slowly, letting the silvery string that connects the two of you snap on its own.
“Gonna let me take care of the birthday boy and his special request?” You practically purr, crawling down his body as your fingers hook into the waistband of his boxers and jeans. All but ripping them from his body even when he lifts his hips to help you free his cock while he grunts out a “‘Course.”
It stands at attention, jumping as your eyes fixate on the one thing you've fucked yourself to the thought of hundreds of times. Drunk all over again, eyes falling to half mast as your hand grips him firmly, listening to him hiss over the contact before you give him a few languid pumps.
Hovering over him for a moment before you look up, watching his pupils blown wide, wider than what they were at the door. Soft almost unnoticeable red tint to his cheeks as he tries to control his breath.
“Try not to fall in love.” You giggle, lolling your tongue out to swipe over the leaking slit in a quick stripe.
“Ya wish, Sweetheart.” But already his head is falling back, hands reaching to grab at your hair before you swipe him away.
Slowly taking him into your mouth, hand gripping what you can't fit into your mouth, letting his fat cock head gag so that your throat contacts the same way your cunt would. Saliva pooling past your lips to coat his shaft, gagging again when you hear him groan before you start a steady pace.
Bobbing your head, alternating hollowing your cheeks and letting him ram into the back of your throat. Giggling when you push his head into the pocket of your cheek, holding eye contact and he reaches down to pull his balls harshly.
He's never been this close to cumming with such little effort.
You let your molars graze him lightly before straightening him in your mouth again. Sure to hit your gag reflex purposefully so that his pre and your spit soak his neatly trimmed pubic hair that's starting to slick to his skin.
If you're lucky he'll stay long enough for your pussy to do that to him too. Cunt neglected as it soaks your underwear as you adjust your weight on your knees for some sort of friction.
Moaning around him when he groans loudly, at his hisses and growls of sugared curses that do nothing but encourage your sinful movements.
Katsuki is panting, the man with all the endurance in the world is fighting the building coil in his lower abdomen and losing.
Bakugou Katsuki never loses but tonight he just might.
Letting his fingers card through your hair before he's pulling harshly, still you don't budge. Lost in your mission to make this last as long as possible by changing from a speed that's bound to make his cum flood your mouth to a slow bob that has you gagging around his sensitive head every time.
Letting your eyes flicker to look up at him and his debauched face, throughly fucked out as his chest heaves eyes fixated on you even as he struggles to hold his head up as if he couldn't bare to look away from.the things you do to him.
The sight is enough to make your eyes flutter, to make you moan around him and the vibrations make his sac tighten, moving your hand so you can shove all of him deep into your tight throat, tears in your eyes that stick in long lashes and fall in fat droplets as you bob on his entire length, once, twice.
And he can't take it, the sight, your eyes all but begging him to cum as you choke yourself on him, as if his pleasure was more important than air.
“Oh fuck princess, just like that.” He groans, cupping the back of your skull as he presses enough to make you gag one last time before he bucks his hips up into you. Starving you of air as your nose is pressed to his pelvic bone while he paints your pretty throat in sticky white cum, your claws digging into the thick meat of his thighs deliciously.
Finally he lets you up and you gasp desperately for air even if you found his aggression as he chased his high undeniably hot. You expect him to smirk, expect him to laugh or to leave pulling up his pants in a hurry but he doesn't.
Instead his large hand grips your chin, pulling you to him as his free hand comes to wrap around your sensitive ribs. Closing the space so that he can kiss you, swiping his tongue over yours shamefully groaning into your mouth as he tastes himself mixed with your spit.
“Fuck.” He pulls you onto the bed, flipping the two of you so he can pin you to the mattress chasing your lips desperately. His other hand has a mind of its own as it rips your panties from your hot core, fingers quick to press and spread your glistening folds. Cruelly avoiding your clit before he shoves two thick digits knuckle deep into your drooling cunt.
Forcing you to arch off the bed, pumping into you with a harsh pace, fingers perfectly positioned to bully that spongy spot that has you seeing stars before he times it perfectly.
Pulling away enough to look you in your eyes before he slowly, roughly, swipes his thumb over your clit and makes you cum in a matter of seconds, faster than any toy. You arch off the bed with a moan so loud you're sure the neighbors know his name now, little do you know what else he has in store.
Removing his middle and ring finger from your fluttering cunt reluctantly, quick to press the digits to his tongue harshly. Smoky caramel fills your senses as his palm heats against the fabric by your head. Leaning over you again to swipe his tongue against yours to taste the two of you melded together in your hot, hungry mouth. He pulls away, hand gently cupping your throat as he holds your gaze, cock heavy and hard again as he aligns it with your still convulsing entrance.
“Sorry Sweetheart, guess I fell in love.” He bullies himself into you in one harsh thrust and you're seeing stars again.
“Now I gotta return the favor.”
1K notes · View notes
nykie-love-anime · 6 days
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Thirst Trap: Caught Desperate
Fandom: My Hero Academia, Warnings: Smut, Prone Bone, Spanking, Pictures - Consensual. Word Count: 4k.
Summary: Read the Intro -> Here.
A/N: Idek what the fuck this is. I've genuinely forgotten how to write - smut especially apparently.
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-> Part of the 'Thirst Trap' Collab.
Make sure to check out the other incredibly talented authors through the link above and don’t forget to leave a nice comment and reblog if you liked their work!
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The first thing he feels is panic.
His phone won't stop. It vibrates against his palm, stirring up a numbness that radiates through his callouses as the screen flickers. The near constant updates create a blur he can't follow, the dull flashes summoning a sharp edge to the headache that has already started to press at the sides of his skull.
Fuck. He sighs, digs a knuckle into the corner of his eye and brackets his hand across his forehead. His PR team might actually murder him for this one.
Prodding at his screen, he manages to slow the endless roll of his feed. The replies are positive, mostly. His fanbase isn't exactly small and, according to the last PR meeting he was forced to attend, they were also predominately women. Although, looking at his phone now, he'd say the divide was probably about 50:50.
Curiosity getting the best of him, he scrolls...
The first few replies he sees are simple enough: suggestive emoji's, notes of amusement, the odd heckle about the size of his cock. Then, there are the more fun ones: the ones calling him a slut, asking to give him more than just head or being up front with their solicitations.
Huffing out a breath, he unfurls, spreading out on the bed and stretching an arm up behind his head. His pants are still unbuckled and pulled to the broadest point of his hips, a casualty of his drunken state. Underneath, his cock presses against the denim – twitching with every mention of the things his fans plead to do to him.
He shouldn't.
He knows its wrong.
Knows that he shouldn't indulge himself.
He shouldn't be thinking about fucking his fist to the thought of an anonymous stranger drooling down his balls, his cock bulging from their cheek, holes stretched out around him as he rolls his hips searching for the thing inside of them that'll make them scream.
His hand cups his pec, broad palm circling gently until he can catch his nipple with each slow pass. It's surprising how quickly his cock catches on. He can feel it leaking, soaking through patches of his underwear as it begs to be released. Letting his hand slip down his body, he feels the tension shake in his abdomen. He's wound tight, muscles shivering even under his own touch as he sinks his hand into his jeans and finally, squeezes his cotton-clothed cock.
He should stop.
Fuck, he should just delete the tweet and get a glass of water.
… And maybe a cold shower.
Licking over his teeth, he's reluctant when he slips his hand back out of his jeans and slams it, somewhat sticky, against his sheets. His cock protests, throbbing with the new lack of friction after being granted so little. It makes it hard to focus, the rolling pit in his stomach, the pulsing of his body – even without his alcohol impairing his judgement, his desire pleads a strong case for him to simply submit.
Bakugo swallows and moves to swipe away from the possibly career-changing tweet on his screen, but the feed is faster than he is.
It isn't the message that catches his eye, not at first anyway. No. It's the username. Your username.
He clenches his jaw.
Immediately, you fill his senses. It had barely been a few hours since you'd had your arms wrapped around his neck, your bodies pressed together as you swayed on the dance floor. If he tried, he swears he'd still be able to feel the soft skin of your thigh grazing against his fingertips as his hand had found its way under the edge of your dress. Your perfume had been intoxicating. A subtle mix of vanilla bean, sandalwood and your sweat had drifted from your collarbones and infested his senses, luring him right to the edge of what he'd known would get him into a whole heap of shit.
That was before he'd made that fucking post, of course.
Now, he was starting to wonder if taking you home would have been the right move all along.
His promises be damned.
Chewing at his lip, he lifts his thumb, revealing the message attached to your name. 'Thought you said you weren't that desperate, huh.' His stomach lurches.
The memories come quick then, fighting through the fog of too many whiskey's and regret.
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He'd meant it as a joke, he really had, something to give him some pace, to make you think twice, think of the consequences – but he's never been good at managing his tone and at almost midnight even his belligerence had felt semi-formal. You'd been too close, too pretty, with the promise of a night he wouldn't be able to forget laced between your teeth and he'd... Well, he'd done what he does best.
He'd pushed you away.
Your eyes shine in the dull lights outside of the club, the yellowing tinge spilling from the surrounding lamps doing nothing to diminish how stunning you look. The alcohol has blown out your eyes, swallowing your iris' almost whole – although, he'd like to think he had a hand in how truly taken you look right now. His hand is on your waist, equal amounts keeping you close and at bay as you bat your eyelashes prettily at him and pout.
'C'mon...' You press close, hand searching the expanse of his chest. His heart thunders underneath, picking up whenever you near his pecs, so you slip a had over his shoulder and use his height to ease yourself up onto your tip-toes. 'You've practically had your hand up my skirt all night, what's stopping you now?' You chuckle, clicking your tongue against your back teeth.
Bakugo's snarl twists his features before he can stop it. He can feel the barb, feel the world curl on the back of his tongue before he can do anything to stop it. It tumbles from his mouth, but even despite his attempt to spit it out softly – hoping it won't hurt too much, your nose wrinkles.
'You really think I'm that desperate?'
It's like you've been slapped.
Your hands tense on his shoulders, feet falling back flat to the floor. Part of you knows he's just trying to get a rise out of you, but you're beyond sick of the back and forth. It's been months of this, of you getting close enough to taste him only for him to retreat at the last moment, usually with a snarled comment he doesn't mean, or some silly excuse to protect that softly-beating heart everyone swears he doesn't have. Sighing, you step back – the tap of your heels like gunshots on the pavement as you raise your bag from the crook of your arm and back onto your shoulder. 'Obviously not.'
Your distance reads like rejection, burns a hole in his pride and makes him prickle. He shakes his head and slips his phone from his pocket intent on ordering his own taxi, despite the fact he can barely make out the squiggles he hopes are words. 'Fuckin' knew I shouldn't have let Red bring you-.'
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After that the memories grow hazy.
He remembers how you'd somehow smoothed over the hiccup in the conversation, laughing it off in all probability, but even then, you'd never quite come as close to him as before. He remembers your laugh. Remembers how the melody of it had ricocheted around his brain in the taxi ride home. He remembers missing your warmth. He remembers the flash of guilt, his half-hard cock and drunken brain at war. He remembers his phone, the screen a pale blue, glowing. He remembers, he remembers his thumb hovering over your name.
He remembers chickening out...
Fuck.
Evidently, he hadn't chickened out hard enough.
Clicking onto your page, he checks your replies to make sure he hasn't hallucinated your response, but before he can even begin to obsess over it – his phone pings in his hand.
It's a message. A real one. Not something filtered in through his socials. With shaking hands, he opens it and pauses.
He has your number saved under your first name.
Just your first name.
Not 'Sidekick''. Not your full title. Or what department you work in. You don't even have a stupid moniker. For fucks sake, he's called Kirishima 'Shitty Hair' in every single phone he's had since high school, and Todoroki has remained solely Todoroki – even despite the fact, both him and his father share the title.
He doesn't dwell on the reasoning.
Instead, he opens the message and is immediately confronted with a screenshot of his tweet. He cringes. Your reply is underneath it, racking up too many likes for his taste, and underneath that is your text.
You: 'You really are fucking desperate, aren't you?'
He waits, palms sweating, watching as three little dot appear and disappear and then, reappear again.
You: 'Can't even reply to me?'
You: 'You could at least turn your read receipts off. I can see you reading the messages.'
You: 'For fucks sake, Bakugo?'
His pulse quickens, thrumming strong and rhythmic under his skin as if to remind him what it is to be near you. The joints in his fingers have frozen, despite the energy rushing through his body demanding movement. Through the haze of his vision he sees you typing again.
You: 'Can we stop doing this now?'
Yes. Bakugo thinks. God, yes. The room spins as he cranes his neck down at his phone, eyes unfocused... His heart and cock war on, but now, the alcohol makes it far too easy for the tide to sway. Flexing his thumbs, he taps back a message before he can think better of it, before the noise of his life and expectation and the world outside can eat away at him again.
Bakugo: 'Please.'
Your reply takes a second this time, forcing the air in his lungs to crystallize; but before he can drum up too many doubts, there's your name again lighting up his screen.
You: Is that the great Dynamight saying please?
Bakugo: Fuck off.
You: Fuck off, or fuck you?
Bakugo's cock twitches in his jeans. He's so hard it's almost painful now, causing an ache to spread up the deep lines of his hips and radiating through his pelvis. Reaching down, he palms at himself again feeling the heft of his desire in his palm. He types back, one handed, the other already occupied.
Bakugo: Don't play with me. You know he'll kill the both of us.
You: I never did get to give you your birthday present.
Furrowing his brow, Bakugo is taps out a series of question marks – unimpressed with the idea of birthday cake when he had come to expect something a whole lot different, but before the thought can fully depress him – another message comes through.
It's a screenshot. The one this entire conversation began with – his own message glowing from his screen. Except this time, underneath is a message that makes his breath catch in a whole new way.
You: 'This offer for everyone, or just everyone who isn't me?'
Bakugo: You.
Bakugo: It was just for you.
Bakugo stills, his breath jammed in the back of his throat as his brain catches up with his fingers.
Fuck.
He shouldn't be doing this.
He should of just had a wank to all of the filth being sent from his fans. Even that would get him in less trouble than this. Part of him wants to back out, wants to claim a hack or come up with some other equally unbelievable and shitty lie so he can turn tail and run, but there's no way back now. He knows that much. His cock is hard and heavy between his thighs, his drunken mind too far from sober for him to see reason.
He types back.
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You don't bother changing. You'd dressed to impress after all. Instead, you snatch a condom from your brothers stash tuck it into your bra and order a taxi, checking the address Bakugo had sent you three times before finally confirming the ride.
The journey is short and sweet, filled with anticipation and the soft jazz that trickles through the radio of the car. You've been waiting for this, grown tired of the will they won't they that had lead to this moment, but now it's here, you find yourself: nervous.
The car mounts the curb, almost sending you sprawling, then a tenner and a lift ride later, you're at his door.
He opens it before you knock looking a little more together, but still drunk. You can feel it too, the alcohol still flooding your system and making everything just a little easier. Still, nothing is as easy as coming together. You mouth drops open, an unspoken question lingering on your tongue and then, Bakugo is on you.
'C'mere.' Using one hand, he hooks it around your waist and tugs at you to him. Your bodies collide, palms coming up to rest against his chest as you peer up at him. He doesn't know how he's resisted you for so long, how he's kept true and stopped this. After all, looking at you now cradled in his arms, it is obvious this was nothing, but inevitable.
Your lips come together easily. The kiss is harsh, full of pent up tension and a longing that has broken you both. He nips at your bottom lip before you flick your tongue against his teeth, tasting him properly as he lets you in.
'Holy shit.' Panting, you claw at him – your hands are everywhere: at his buttons, his chest, wrapped in the chain circling his neck. He pays you back in kind grabbing at your hips, taking handfuls of you with an eagerness that radiates through his entire body.
With an unceremonious grunt, he bends at the knees, slipping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up against his waist. He pulls back a slither, blinking at you, his shoulders straining at he takes your entire weight with ease and presses you into the wall of his hallway. A wicked grin takes his lips as you squeak, arms and legs wrapping around him to cling on. 'Hang on.'
He kisses you again then, pressed to the wall, but before you can catch you're breath he's off. You make a stop at a small counter where he presses his clothed cock to your cunt, letting you feel just what you're getting yourself into and again at the wall outside of his bedroom. There he almost leaves your neck raw, biting and sucking, but never enough to leave too much of a mark.
You stumble into his bedroom still cradled in Bakugo's arms. There's sure to be bruises on your elbows, a symptom of attempting to peel him from his shirt while he careened through the doorway, but as your back hitting the bed and Bakugo hovering over you, you find it hard to care. Reaching into your bra, you slip out the condom with two fingers and present it to him by waving it under his nose.
Taking it with his teeth, he grins as you let out a sigh that settles in his bones. Beneath him, you look insatiable. Your eyes have blown out, the black of your iris' banishing whatever colour had once been there. The dress he'd been so anxious to get under all night is rumpled, the slit cast aside exposing the thickness of your thighs and a slither of cunt covered by a pair of soft-looking red lace. The bodice is low, the heaving of your chest apparent – your tits held high, pressed together and begging for his hands. Slipping a hand up your thigh, he brushes his fingers across the flesh and earns himself the most pretty of moans.
'I knew you'd break.' Lifting your leg, you kick out at him softly – the ball of your heel connecting with his shoulder. You perch on your elbows, eyes swollen, the pulse of your cunt matching the beating of your heart. It's been rough until now, a clash of teeth and nails, but its hard not to notice the bare desire you see splayed out in his eyes. It's mixed with carmine, a colour that barely covers what, if nurtured, could become love. 'Knew I'd have you.'
He grabs your ankle and pulls on reflex, yanking you down the bed. 'Did you?' Under his skin he feels feral. Something that's only made worse when you lick your lips and nod.
His restraint snaps. Grabbing at your hips, he kneads the fat there before flipping you over. You bounce, a scream escaping your throat, but he quickly transforms the sound into a moan with a harsh slap against your ass.
'Thought you wanted head?' You laugh, feeling your skin prickle under him. There's a rustle behind you, the tell tale sound of him shucking down his jeans and then, his fingers are pulling your underwear away from your cunt and exposing you to the air.
'You always this much of a brat?'
You wriggle and lift up your hips. 'You always this hard for me? Oh wait...' You chuckle. 'You are.'
A growl rumbles in his throat, but it's not anger he's feeling. Taking his cock in his hand, he gives himself a cursory pass – the stickiness of his own pre cum making it easy. His head rocks back on his shoulders. With a bottle of whiskey still coursing through his vein's he's more than sensitive, the simple passes of his hand having him ready to blow – God only knows what the feel of your cunt will do to him.
'C'mon... Fuck me, forget the condom – just -.' Reaching behind you, you attempt to grab at him – to pull him close, get him to touch, to taste.
Chuckling to himself, he bats your hand away easily. 'Nah-ah-ah. Don't think you deserve me raw, sweetheart. Only good girls get that.' He squeezes the base of his cock, stopping a premature end as he tears through the tinfoil of the condom and slips it on.
You go to whine, to kick your feet and protest him not giving into you, but you're not even given the chance.
The first thing you feel is impossibly full. The next is overwhelming pleasure. Bakugo hadn't wasted time prepping you and to be honest, you hadn't needed it. You're soaking, cunt dribbling greedily onto his mattress – like you haven't been waiting forever for this moment. You arc your back, one hand fisting his bed sheets as the other curls around the wrist he plants beside your head. The pace he's set is brutal, each thrust pushing deeper inside of you, taking you as he pleases as you cling on and submit to it.
'Where's the cheek now, huh?' He pants. Honestly, he's surprised he's not cum already. Your cunt milks him, squeezing him so deliciously that he doesn't think he'll ever find anyone better.
Then again, he know what they say about forbidden fruit.
''m sorry.' You moan, back curling as he fucks you harder. It's pathetic how he's barely given you anything and yet, you're already creaming around him. Your body begs for release, teetering you on the precipice of ecstasy as he uses you relentlessly.
'No your not...' Bakugo chokes out, teeth bared as he clings to the last threads of his control. Your tight now, too tight to not be close and if the way you're moaning and almost drooling onto his bed is anything to go by – he's not wrong. Leaning over you, he licks a thick stripe up between your shoulder blades before resting his lips by your ear. When he speaks is a growl, a command that comes from deep within his chest. 'Touch yourself... C'mon, show me how pretty you cum.'
You don't need telling twice. Forcing your arm beneath you, you draw quick, awkward circles on your clit and have to remind yourself to breathe. Your orgasm hits you like a train. Every muscle in your body tenses, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the high continues to roll through your body. It feels like a millennia until you come back again, until your limbs begin to feel under your own control and you become aware of Bakugo still frantically prolonging your high.
'Shit, shit, shit...' Pulling out, he ignores your protests before quickly rolling off the condom. It takes a singular pass of his fist before he cums, a grunt thrown from his chest as he releases himself over your ass. His mess is sticky, a pearlescent sheen that drips between your cheeks and onto your raw cunt – your clit still twitching.
In a moment of madness, he retrieves his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture of the scene. In it, only the edge of your dress can be seen, coupled with the most distant droplets of his spend as it decorates the skin of your thighs.
'Post it.' Craning over your shoulder, you hiss at the new soreness in your limbs as you roll onto your back. You tilt your head, signature mischief returning to your cheeks. 'Got to let those fan girls know you've already being taken care of...' You flash a smile. 'And I'd really hate to see your DM's right now.'
Against his better judgement, he tosses you his phone. 'Knock yourself out.'
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It's almost six in the morning when you finally settle for bed. You'd gone another three rounds. Once in shower, over the vanity in the hallway and then, again in his bed and each time had seen both of you aching and sore and more than pleased with yourselves. You'd posted the picture and Bakugo's phone hadn't been quiet since – not that you minded. It wasn't like anyone could really tell what it was. The lighting was awful, the image blurred and you'd cropped it so there was no chance of anyone figuring out who you were.
Still, the idea of it stirs up something hot and heavy in your stomach.
You'd laid your claim now.
'I will never know how you're such a demon when you're brother's a God damn golden boy.' Bakugo's breathing has just about leveled out, you hand rising and falling in a more subtle rhythm where it lays on the center of his chest.
You wrinkle your nose. 'Can we not talk about my brother while I can still feel your cum dripping down my ass, please.'
Bakugo chufs, but relents. His thumb rubs soft circles in the skin of your shoulder, a gentle beckoning to sleep as both of you watch the sun rise and fill his bedroom window with a brilliant orange. 'Stay?' He kisses your forehead. 'I'll make you breakfast.'
Nuzzling into him, you're about to agree – mind already reeling at the possibilities of Bakugo's cooking and another round at a more respectable hour – but, all thoughts cease when Bakugo's phone pings with a message.
'If this is my fucking publicist you can explain yourself.' Bakugo tuts, but there's still a warmth in his smile that betrays his annoyance.
You giggle. 'Happy to.'
Flipping over his phone in his hand, Bakugo's mouth drops open when the screen glows to light his face.
There's only one message on the screen.
And it isn't from his publicist.
Shitty Hair: 'Really dude, my fucking sister?'
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nykie-love-anime · 6 days
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>>> Reply sent at 1:28AM: who knew Dynamight was such a slut?
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Read the other replies here.
Here is my part to the Thirst Trap collab for Bakugou’s birthday! Please check out all the other fics at the link above💕
Happy Birthday to the King👑
Warnings: 18+, intoxicated Bakugou, dirty talk, sending dirty videos, sexting, m!masturbation, voyuerism, exhibitionism, creampies.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Shindou Yo x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.6k.
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Bakugou’s thumb paused against the screen when he saw that particular message in a sea of hopeful replies, a lump tight at the back of his throat as he swallowed thickly in a feeble attempt to clear it.
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He’d recognise that profile photo anywhere. Grand’s girlfriend.
Bakugou had spent more than one night fisting his cock to the thought of you, although he’d never admit it. Remembering just how pretty you looked at the hero gala last month in a dress that left very little to the imagination, leaving him bricked up for his acceptance speech as he thought about bending you over in the men’s bathroom stalls.
And part of him thought he might even have a chance with you, if he could get you away from Grand just long enough. Remembering the syrupy scent of your perfume invading his senses when you stood up on tip-toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to give him a hug after he’d received his award; leaving a sticky lipgloss stain against the shell of his ear when you whispered against it how proud you were of him. And he was certain he wouldn’t make it out of the building alive. His boxers now glazed with dry pre and his cock throbbing desperately for any kind of sweet relief.
And now you were messaging him?
Bakugou was quick to click onto your profile, navigating directly towards the direct message option to see he’d already received a slew of them, but they didn’t appear to be from you.
YOU[1:57AM]: Aww you didn’t think that message was actually from her, did you?
Shit, Bakugou grunted as his cock still throbbed pitifully between his thighs, of course Shindou was the one texting from your phone and not you. Certain he could hear Shindou’s condescending tone through text.
YOU[1:58AM]: Oh, you did? You sick fuck hahahahaha.
YOU[1:58AM]: She’d never message you without telling me anyway.
Bakugou growled in irritation as he read through each message. Of course, Shindou texts were just as annoying as the man was in real life.
YOU[1:59AM]: But you should’ve seen how excited she got when you sent that tweet.
YOU[2:00AM]: It made her stupid little crush on you even worse.
Wait, what? Bakugou’s heart pounded at the realisation as he saw the next message. A link to a video that had a pitch black screen to start, his heart hammered against his chest as he clicked onto it.
And there you were spread out in all your naked glory. The sordid fantasies Bakugou had while stroking his cock at night would never compare to the sight of you like this— spread out against tousled sheets as you stared up at the camera through thick lashes.
The perfect point of view, Bakugou thought as he imagined himself above you.
“I guess I should be thanking you for this, Dynamight.” Shindou sneered, reaching out to mould one of your round breasts between slender fingers. Pinching at your taut nipple as a groan rumbled deep in Bakugou’s chest, “Getting my girl all riled up in the middle of the night.”
Bakugou wondered if he’d actually fallen asleep, because this had to be a dream. Reaching down to palm his cock through his damp boxers as crimson eyes roamed your naked skin, trying to commit the sight to memory.
“Lucky I was right here to fix it,” He continued, “That what got you excited huh, sweetheart?”
Shindou’s voice rung out from behind the camera as he fucked into your body with slow, deliberate thrusts. Each precise motion had your tits bouncing, a calculated move from his rival, he thought. Watching the way your lips parted in sultry moans every time he drew back, trying to coax him deeper as your cunt gushed around him.
“Thinking about Dynamight’s hard cock.” And Bakugou’s cock was hard, throbbing with neglect as he wrapped a large fist around himself to curl his wrist. Smearing pre, that was now drooling down his engorged head along the length of him as crimson eyes watched the video.
“He shoulda just text you if he wanted a birthday treat, huh?” Shindou continued, panning the camera down to where your bodies were connected so Bakugou could see the creamy rings of slick around the base of his cock each time he drew his hips back, “You’d have been more than happy to get on your knees for him.”
Bakugou whined pitifully at the thought of you like that, looking up at him all pretty and shit as you wrapped your glossy lips around his cock. His hand tightened around himself as he he pumped himself with calculated measure. Following Shindou’s movements as he fucked into your warm, wet cunt as he tried to replicate the sensation. Positive that nothing would ever feel as good as the real thing—
“Say his name, sweetheart,” Shindou continued, bringing the camera up towards your face, “Come on, it’s his fuckin’ birthday.”
“Katsuki,” The lewd squelch of your cunt aired in the background as Bakugou focused in on the desperate lilt to your voice when you repeated it, “Katsuki.”
Bakugou grunted as he leaned forward, pursing his lips together to spit onto his cock. Smearing the moisture along his length as he imagined it was you sinking down onto his length instead.
“God, you’re such a nasty slut,” Shindou continued, as though he hadn’t been the biggest instigator, “Moaning another guys name while I’m balls deep. Bet you’re thinking about him fuckin’ this sweet, sweet cunt too?”
“Oh my god, fuck—” You mewled, hands reaching up to paw at your tits as Bakugou watched the way your hands dipped into the soft skin.
“Is that it?” Shindou pressed, “You want Dynamight to fuck this sloppy pussy?”
“Yes!” You cried out, cunt clenching around him.
“Oh, shit.” Shindou rasped, the camera angle faltering as he jolted with pleasure. Almost dropping his phone as he readjusted himself above you, the camera now angled lower to show Shindou’s thick cock disappearing inside your tight cunt. A sheen of your slick glistened around the base of him as he kept his languid pace.
“We should invite him round, then?” Shindou continued, “It is his birthday, after all.”
You gasped at the implication, your body reacting to your boyfriend’s words as he smirked down at you. Giving the side of your thigh a playful swat as you moaned in response.
“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” Shindou cooed, “She clenched around me so fucking hard when I said that.”
Bakugou groaned, squeezing his fist around himself in a pitiful attempt to mimic the action. Trying to replicate the grip of your cunt around him as he pictured the pretty faces you’d make for him.
“‘m close,” You panted, biting down on your bottom lip as Bakugou felt his balls tightening at the sight, dangerously close to his own end.
“Yeah? You gonna cum?” Shindou coaxed, his thumb disappearing between your thighs to press taut circles to your puffy clit, “Show Dynamight how pretty you look when you’re cumming all over my cock, sweetheart.”
And fuck, did you look pretty. Bakugou thinks. Your eyes rolling to show their whites as your lashes flutter, lips curled into the prettiest moan he’s ever heard as you begin to convulse. Nails leaving dark lines against your tits as you mould the supple skin, thighs raising in the air to try and clamp down around Shindou’s hips.
“Fuck,” Bakugou snarled between clenched teeth as he sped up his movements, rough and sloppy as he desperately tried to meet your climax. Wanting to tumble into bliss by your side as the camera moved back towards your slick heat, his hips jerking sloppily as he felt himself come undone. Sending streams of milky cum against his hand, thighs and the new sheets he’d put on for his special day. A whole ass mess.
“Bet you would’ve preferred cumming inside this perfect little pussy,” Shindou spoke, as if he knew Bakugou would be touching himself while watching.
Slowly pulling his spent cock out of your trembling hole before moving the phone between your thick thighs so Bakugou could see the gape. A stretch Bakugou wished he’d inflicted on you as he brought his phone closer to his face to try and see the way your walls still fluttered in the aftershocks of your release, his spent cock throbbing when he noticed you begin to push Shindou’s warm spunk out of your abused hole. Watching it drool down between the curve of your ass before Shindou’s thumb came up to collect it; pushing it back inside you as you let out another sinful moan of delight.
“You think Dynamight would fuck you this good, sweetheart?” Shindou coaxed as the pads of his fingers circled your stretched hole.
“Mmm, I think he would,” You mumbled, gasping when Shindou’s palm came down hard on your slit, catching you by surprise.
“Course you’d think that,” Your boyfriend laughed, shaking his head as he leaned down to press a kiss to your pouty lips.
“Maybe you should come and get your birthday head,” Shindou turned the camera around to show his smirking face as he sat shirtless above you, “So you can show her how tiny your cock really is.”
Bakugou shared up at the ceiling with blown out eyes, wondering if he’d sobered up enough to move as his chest still heaved with the intensity of his climax. Taking a deep breath before he moved to stand, grabbing his keys off the bedside table as he shoved his softening cock back into his jeans.
Fuck it, he’ll get an Uber.
498 notes · View notes
nykie-love-anime · 8 days
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being james potter’s childhood best friend would include:
in other words: in which you and james potter are and will always be best friends
warnings: a little bit of angst at the end
is this my way of writing a story without actually writing a story? why, yes. it is.
gif’s not mine
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you were destined to be best friends
i mean, either you were going to be best friends or you were going to hate each other
because, see, your parents had known each other their whole lives
your fathers were best friends
his dad was your dad’s best man (and vice versa)
your mothers became close friends the instant they met
they even got pregnant around the same time
when they found out they were pregnant (and that the babies were going to be born only days apart) they started planning play dates
so, as you can see, there was really no escaping the intertwining of your lives
when you were babies, barely months old, your mum would place you both in the same cradle for nap time
when she would check up on your she would always find your little hands wrapped together
even as babies you found comfort in the proximity of each other
you were raised and grew up together
vacations, holidays, random trips to Diagon Alley and muggle London, the Quidditch Cup? all of that was done along with his family
basically, you couldn’t remember a moment of your life in which James hadn’t been present
being the only person he allows to call him Jay and him being the only one to call you (Y/N/N)
more than your best friend, he was the older brother you never had
because, yes, he was older than you by a day
and he never let you forget it
“I wanna ride the Nimbus, Jay!”
“Well, I’m older and so I get the best broom. Grab the Comet.”
“A day, James Potter. You’re older by a day.”
“Best day of m’life.”
that would earn him a punch in the shoulder
he really did live up to the older brother title
pranks? you were his first victim (and things only got more hectic once he met Sirius Black)
he knew you better than you knew yourself and he used that knowledge to annoy you endlessly
teasing you was one of his favorite activities
sometimes he would grab at your ponytail and pull softly just because he knew you hated when he did that
that would result in you pinching his arm, hard
you fought like siblings do
“James, give it back!”
“You want it? Come get it.”
“I’ll tell mum.”
“Five galleons says you won’t.”
there were also silly arguments
“Chew with your mouth closed, don’t be gross.”
James would proceed to open his mouth (filled with half-chewed food) at you, smirking when he saw you dramatically gag
“You’re disgusting.”
he would only chew louder in response
he always saw you as his irritating baby sister
the one person that drove him up the wall but also the only one to whom he could tell everything and anything without feeling judged
you know every single Beatles song because he loved muggle music (and he basically forced you to listen along with him)
and he learned how to braid because there was this one time you broke your arm and couldn’t do it yourself
he mainly learned out of guilt as it was basically his fault that you broke your arm
he became quite good at braiding and sometimes, when you were tired, you would ask him to do your hair
he would whine in annoyance but always gave in (because, for one, he could never say no to you when you pouted and two, he kind of enjoyed braiding)
gifting each other matching bracelets and only ever taking them off to replace them with new ones
“Taking it off is worse than snitching,” he once told you regarding the bracelet. “As long as we both have it on then we’re together even when we’re apart.”
you had a room at his place
it was meant to be a visitor’s room but you claimed it
not only did you have a room but half of your wardrobe was in that closet since you spent most of your time there
whenever he slept over at your place you shared your bed (which could get really annoying because he moved around a lot when he sleeps)
one of your drawers was reserved for him
and he had a toothbrush and his own shampoo in your bathroom
his parents were your second parents (you called his mother ‘mum’ and his father ‘dad’ and he did the same with your parents)
you would even say that his mum loved you best
you’re the little girl she always wanted
and he would counter that your mum loved him best
which you couldn’t really argue, because she did have a soft spot for him
his dad taught you how to ride a broom (because your parents had absolutely no talent when it came to Quidditch)
and ever since you got the hang of it, every free moment of your life before Hogwarts was spent playing Quidditch with James
he was kind of surprised (and maybe even a little jealous) because you were bloody good at the game
but the jealousy disappeared when he realized how good of a team you two made
still, you always had a friendly competitiveness between you two. it was productive as it helped you both work even harder to beat the other
when you both got your Hogwarts letters you were thrilled seeing as you’ve been talking about going to Hogwarts forever
compared to James, you tended to be more quiet and shy, especially around people you didn’t know
but, as they watched the Hogwarts Express leave the platform, your parents weren’t even slight worried, they knew that as long as you had James by your side you’d be alright
James befriended Sirius instantly and, surprisingly, it didn’t take much for you to open up to him
it took you a while longer to open up to Remus, who you found a little intimidating
but as soon as you did you became good friends
you weren’t precisely a marauder
going around the castle causing mayhem really wasn’t you ideal scenario
but you were close to all of them
close enough that Remus himself told you about his lycanthropy before anyone else
close enough that Sirius allowed you to braid his hair whenever you got bored (he would never admit it but the feeling of your fingers running through his head felt quite nice)
close enough that they informed you of their plan of becoming animagi
from the beginning it became quite evident that you and James were a package deal and that never changed, not even as the years went by
it annoyed the professors to no end
“Mr. Potter will be partnered with-”
“Ms. (Y/L/N).”
“No.”
“Yes.”
at first they wouldn’t give in, but when they realized you were the only person on the entire planet who could keep him under control they just let you two be
you were basically joined at the hip, to the point where people were kind of surprised when they saw either of you without the other
everyone soon came to realize what an amazing duo you were
not only in life but at Quidditch
“Potter and (Y/L/N) are on fire today. That’s 10 more points for Gryffindor.”
out of the two of you, you were always the one with common sense
therefore, you acted as his conscience
“What if we blow up the-”
“James Fleamont Potter, there is not going to be any blowing up.”
“Such a killjoy.”
“This killjoy is keeping you from being expelled, dumbass.”
he was all about showing his love in a physical way
so your friendship was filled with side hugs and cuddles and stolen sweatshirts
you were so close that, as you get older, people began to wonder when you would start dating
you both full on laughed whenever a comment along the lines of “so when are you getting together” was made
because, even when you were aware of how handsome James Potter was getting, you used to take baths with him
you knew him too well
you had seen him at his best and at his worst
and you loved him, you always would
but, even when you didn’t share blood, he was your brother
and only that
he felt the exact same way
thinking about being with you in a romantic way kind of freaked him out
you were soulmates
anyone could appreciate that
but just platonic soulmates
he was fiercely protective over you
so when you told him that you’re going out on a date he was obviously not excited
“But what are you going to do?”
“We’re going for lunch at Madam Puddifoot’s and that’s all.”
he nearly choked on his own saliva
“Madam— You’re going to Madam Puddifoot’s.”
“Glad to know your hearing works.”
“But— but— People go there to—”
“Snog. Yes. Maybe if I’m lucky—”
“No! There will be no snogging for you little miss.”
“Who are you? My mum?”
“I’m just-”
he was out of words but you knew what he was trying to say
he was just looking out for you, as he had done his entire life
and it was sweet of him
but you were capable of taking care of yourself (growing up alongside him meant you learned a trick or two when it came to self defense)
So you pecked his cheek and told him, “I’ll be fine, Jay. I’ll see you later.”
and everything went perfectly fine
still, when you made it back to the Gryffindor Common Room, he was there, waiting for you to get back
and you knew he was waiting for you, even when he tried to brush it off by saying he was working on his charms essay because, well, James Potter was a procrastinator
doing a charms essay that’s due in two weeks? yeah, could’ve fooled me.
he never outright approved of anyone you dated
in his mind there was no one good enough for you
but he did act nice towards your partners because all he truly wanted was to see you happy
he would’ve done anything for you
when some older boys were teasing you and he found you alone in an empty corridor, bawling your eyes out, he was livid
no one hurts his friends, especially not his little sister
the next day two of the guys who’d been bothering you were hit with a hex that caused them to lose their hair and the other one, the one who’d been the most vicious, found his skin filled with something that looked sort of like chicken pox
James didn’t say a thing but you knew that was his (and the Marauders) doing and so you squeezed his hand as a ‘thanks’
he had his own way of looking out for you
his hugs were the best, especially after a long and tiring day
you were the one that noticed his very evident crush on Lily Evans
and after he realized just how much he liked her you were the one he went to for advice
“You’re not gonna win her over by calling her pet names.”
“How would you know?”
“Because she’s my friend and— I mean—really? Lilyflower?”
“It’s cute!”
“It is everything but cute.”
but you still helped him out
because, well, he was hopeless
and because you wanted to see him happy
and also because you thought they would actually make a cute couple
that is if Lily got around the fact that she actually didn’t dislike him quite as much as she pretended to 
a little jealousy from Lily’s side towards your friendship once she started dating him
but that going away when she saw you wrestle around for the last brownie, you elbowing him in the stomach and him putting you in a headlock
she realized you truly were siblings in every sense of the word when you licked the hand he placed over your mouth and he wiped it on your face
lots of detentions together
and not because you actually had to be in detention but because he basically dragged you along with him
“I’m not doing this for you. I’ve got nothing better to do, really.”
but you were doing it for him, because you knew how bored he got (especially since Professor McGonagall decided that the Marauders were to serve detention far away from one another)
and, although he never said it out loud, you knew he appreciated the company
and, besides, annoying him was one of your favorite things to do and detention was the perfect opportunity to do so
“I think you missed a spot there.”
“Enjoying this, are you?”
“Very much.”
“You’re a prick.”
“Wouldn’t it be nice if Potter had to conduct his punishment without any use of magic, Mr. Filch?”
“I hate you.”
but he doesn’t, not that much anyways
because he knew that, after watching him struggle for your own amusement, you would eventually lend him your wand
letting him copy of your essays
him whispering the answers to tests whenever he saw you struggling
staying at his place during Christmas and helping Mrs. Potter make dinner
watching Christmas movies late at night the week leading up to Christmas day
joining the Order together and promising each other that you’ll stay safe
graduating Hogwarts top of the class
and never letting him forget that you got better grades than he did
being best woman at his wedding (Sirius was also the best man but James was adamant that you had to have a special role as well)
being the first person he calls to let them know that him and Lily are having a baby
lowkey freaking out in excitement but managing to keep your composure
“I don’t know how I feel about a mini you running around but knowing that the babe will be half Lily sort of eases my mind.”
“You are the worst.”
“I’m kidding, Jay. I’m really happy for you. Have you told mum yet? She’s going to lose her mind.”
him confiding in you about how worried he was about parenthood
“You’ll be a great dad, James. I know you will.”
trying out for the Holyhead Harpies because he insisted you had the talent needed to make it to the professional Quidditch league
to your surprise, you actually made the team
“Never once doubted you.”
being named Harry’s godmother and pushing back the tears as you held the little one in your arms for the first time
“Thank Godric he looks nothing like you,” you joked as you looked down at the carbon copy of your best friend.
him calling you up late at night one day and asking to meet up
“If something were to happen to Lily and I— you and Sirius, uh, you would look after Harry right?”
“Of course we would,” you responded immediately as you took his hand in yours. “But nothings gonna happen to either of you. We’re all going to be fine.”
you shared a look and although neither of you said a single word you understood each other perfectly; there was no assurance either of you would be alright, not with Voldemort actively searching for them, desperate to hunt them down
he pulled you in for a hug as you went your separate ways that night and you clung onto him, as if your body could sense that would be the last time you would ever see him alive
you took him in, everything about him, from his cinnamon smell to the way his hands always rubbed your back when he hugged you
as you looked up to him you couldn’t help the tears that fell from your eyes
“I love you, Jay. Always.”
maybe he too felt that this way goodbye because he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead
“And I you, (Y/N/N). Never forget that.”
and just like that he was gone
something snapped inside you the day he died, as if your heart was shattering into pieces, but you always kept his memory alive
you carried James in your heart and mind and you saw him in your godson every single day (after all the little baby boy shared every single trait with his father but his eyes)
you would go on to raise Harry and watch him grow into a man you were incredibly proud of
you had no doubt his parents were equally as proud
and then, eventually, the Dark Lord would be defeated and life would go on
you would fall in love and have kids of your own
but you never once took off the last friendship bracelet he’d given you
because, as he had once told you, even when you weren’t together you weren’t truly apart
he was and would always be your best friend
348 notes · View notes
nykie-love-anime · 9 days
Text
what's love got to do with it?
The students and teachers alike at UA High can't help but notice the strange behavior of the typically stern and stoic teacher of Class 1-A. They come up with all sorts of theories but soon discover the even more surprising truth: Aizawa-sensei is simply falling in love. Fluffy Aizawa x fem!reader drabble. SFW. 2,828 words.
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The way everyone looks at him when he walks in, you’d think he’d grown a second head or something.
Aizawa glances up from his phone after reading a sweet little text from you, greeting him good morning and wishing him a good day at work, only to find every student's wide-eyed, unblinking attention focused solely on him.
One second, they were all happily chattering, and then, the next…
"Hmm? What?" He asks his class offhandedly, throwing his things on the table and taking his usual seat.
But instead of answering him, the whole room erupts into a whispered frenzy.
"Did you see that? Did he just...?"
"No way! Must have been a trick of the light or something."
"What the heck? I feel so unnerved. Llike we just spotted a UFO or there’s been a glitch in the matrix."
“You guys saw it too, right? Are we all just collectively hallucinating?”
"Oi!" He calls their attention. "Would anyone care to tell me what it is exactly that's gotten all of you so worked up this morning?"
Stunned silence falls over Class 1-A again, and Aizawa can’t help but cross his arms and sigh. “Iida? Yaoyorozu? What’s going on?”
He doesn’t miss the way the class president and vice-president exchange a hesitant look before Iida answers him. 
“Apologies, sensei!” He hastily gets up to bow. “I will personally make sure everyone quiets down.” He zooms around the room and gestures frantically at his noisy classmates to settle down.
Bemused by their commotion, Aizawa observes them all carefully. What could’ve caused such a stir? He wonders. And why are they all so reluctant to tell him? Did he have a piece of spinach in his teeth or something? A quick glance downwards tells him he didn’t forget to wear pants or shoes or anything, so what was it?
“If I may, sensei?” Yaoyorozu raises her hand and he nods at her. “I think everyone was just a little distracted by your change in demeanor today."
He furrows his eyebrows at the young girl. "What change?"
"Well, we’ve never seen you smile before. Or at least, not like that.”
He blinks in surprise. He’d been smiling when he walked into class this morning? "What about it?"
"Well, sir," Iida adds, taking his seat once everyone's finally settled down. "It's quite an uncommon sight. Naturally, they were taken aback."
“You usually only smile when you’re giving us a tough time in exams or training exercises, sensei.”
The corners of Aizawa’s mouth twitch upwards at that, which he quickly covers up with a small cough. “Well, enough of that. Let’s get on with today’s lesson, shall we?”
Everyone straightens up to listen as their homeroom teacher goes over a few important announcements. And although he isn’t smiling anymore, Class 1-A doesn't miss the way his usually sharp gaze has grown soft and almost...fond as he speaks to them.
As soon as the homeroom bell rings, Aizawa dismisses them with an absent-minded wave of his hand and takes out his phone to text you: Do I really never smile?
You smile when you’re rounding up bad guys sometimes. You reply almost right away. Or when you see a cat.
He chuckles. Apparently I also do it when I’m torturing my students. Then…Or when I’m texting you.
You send back a little cat emoji, and the grin you get after reading that doesn't leave your face for the rest of the day.
_________________________________________
“Shouta! Helloooo? I said Earth to Shouta?” Kayama waves her hand in Aizawa’s face.
It seems to snap him out of whatever trance he’s in. “Sorry, what?” He blinks up at her.
She gives Yamada a look. “What’s with him today?”
“Dunno,” he shrugs, then turns to his friend. “Hey buddy, didn’t get any sleep again last night or something?”
You could say that, Aizawa thinks to himself with a smirk, then hastily scolds his features into their usually stoic expression. “No. Why?”
Kayama raises an eyebrow at him. “You've just been acting a little...off. Distracted, maybe?”
"Nothing to worry about," Aizawa reassures them, dismissing their concerns with a wave of his hand. He goes back to observing his students closely in the hopes of them moving past the subject, but Kayama and Yamada aren’t convinced. Anyone looking at him could tell something was different today.
“Sensei?” Kirishima hesitantly calls out to him. “I’m having a little trouble with my balance. Could you show me that move again?”
Aizawa nods, and everyone’s jaw just about drops to the floor when he demonstrates the proper stance with uncharacteristic patience. 
"Remember to be mindful of where you shift your weight," He guides Kirishima through the motions with a supportive tone, a stark departure from his normally gruff and no-nonsense approach. "And keep your focus. You'll get it."
Kirishima does as he’s told and looks to his teacher for feedback.
"No, adjust your stance a bit like this. Yes, that's it. Great improvement," Aizawa says, offering a rare compliment. 
Flabbergasted, the red-haired boy manages a stuttering, "Th-Thank you, sensei," before Aizawa moves on to help the next student. 
Observing everything from afar, Kayama leans over to Yamada and whispers, “He didn’t get a concussion on that last mission, did he? I've never seen him like this."
“Check what was in his coffee a while ago. And if he still has more — oof, it was just a joke!”
_________________________________________
“Okay, enough is enough!” Mina bursts into the room, dramatically crying. “I have to know!”
“Know what?” Kirishima asks as the others start to gather around her.
“What’s going on with Aizawa sensei? I saw him on the way here — he’s wearing a buttoned up shirt.”
There’s a collective gasp.
“Are you sure?” Momo asks.
Mina nods frantically. “And it was freshly pressed, too!”
Another round of gasps.
“And his hair was tied up!” The pink girl all but weeps, throwing herself onto the nearest desk.
“What do you think is going on with him?” Deku rubs his chin thoughtfully.
“He’s been acting so weird lately!” Uraraka whines.
As if on cue, Aizawa walks in. “Good morning, class,” he greets them without his usual gruffness.
Everyone hurries back to their seats, but Mina leans over to grab Kaminari’s sleeve, screaming under her breath, “He said good morning!”
“Look at his eyes!” He points frantically. “No puffy, dark circles or redness at all! He actually looks well-rested for once!”
“That’s where I draw the line!” Kirishima almost slams his fist on his desk. “We have to get to the bottom of this.”
Sero joins them, “Do you think Mic sensei and Midnight sensei know anything?”
Kaminari shrugs, “It’s worth asking.”
“Maybe Aizawa sensei has a secret twin and he’s pulling a prank on us?” Deku contemplates.
Uraraka shakes her head, “Sensei? Pulling a prank? I doubt it. What if there’s a new teacher at UA with a shape-shifting quirk?”
“Or Shinsou brainwashed him into being in a good mood?” Jirou chimes in.
As they huddle and murmur, Todoroki and Tokoyami shoot them curious glances, and Iida has to shush them discreetly. 
They snap back to attention every time Aizawa faces them, pretending to listen to the lesson. But as soon as their sensei turns away again, the room buzzes with whispered speculation. 
And though he acts none the wiser, seemingly engrossed in the topic they're supposed to be discussing, Aizawa can't help his amusement listening to their outlandish theories. A small, smug part of him relishes stoking the fires of their confusion. 
He knew he'd have some explaining to do, but for now, he’s more than happy to just let  them wonder.
_________________________________________
“Oh, look who finally decided to show up!” is the first thing Mic says when he spots him. The colorful cocktail in his hand is practically empty, but he happily sips the fun loopy straw for whatever dredges he can anyway.
“Are you going to make me regret it?” Aizawa grumbles, taking his seat next to his friends.
But Mic and Midnight just snicker, unfazed. They’ve had years to get used to his grumpiness after all (and a few drinks to put them in a better mood). 
"We have to admit, Aizawa," Midnight smirks up at him. "We had an ulterior motive for asking you to come hang out tonight."
"Don't you always?" He deadpans, lazily chewing at the gyoza they ordered without him. Although he doesn’t show it, he’s pleased to see there’s already a whiskey neat waiting on the table for him. 
Midnight rolls her eyes as she slides it over to him, "Yeah, but aside from just getting you to lighten up as usual."
"And getting you to sing karaoke with us, which I still can't believe—"
"You promised me we'd never talk about it again,” Aizawa groans as he rubs his hand over his face. “And that you'd never let me get that drunk again.”
"Awww, come on, buddy," Yamada slings his arm around him. "What's the point of having a good story you can't tell?"
"Fine, but I'll deny it, so no one will believe you anyway."
"I don’t know,” Midnight sing-songs, swirling her margarita in its glass. “With the way you’ve been acting lately, they just might.”
He frowns at her. “Meaning?”
Mic grins, leaning forward with an impish glint in his eye, "Meaning we heard you've been keeping secrets from us, Aizawa."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh really? Then would you care to tell us why you’ve been smiling so much lately?”
“Or who you’ve been trying to look nice for?”
Realizing they weren’t going to let this go easily, Aizawa sighs and takes a deep sip of his whiskey, the familiar warmth sliding down his throat. He's not one to discuss his personal life openly, even with his close friends, but there's something about their teasing that doesn't quite irk him tonight.
Aizawa tilts his head slightly, thoughtfully. "I'm just...happy, I suppose."
“But it’s more than that, isn’t it?”
“Come on, buddy, you can tell us!” Mic nudges him playfully. 
“We want to know what’s got our favorite grump acting like a—" Midnight’s hands quickly fly up to cover her gasp. 
“Like a what?” Mic gives her a puzzled look, but Aizawa’s shoulders tense up at the glint in her eyes. That look usually meant very bad things for him. 
“Like a lovesick puppy!” She grabs Mic’s arm, excitedly slapping it before shaking Aizawa’s shoulders and squealing into his ear. “That’s it, isn’t it? You’re in love!”
Aizawa chokes on his drink, and Mic pats him on the back to ease his coughing fit.
"Real smooth, Kayama,” he teases her.
"Sorry, but I couldn't resist," Midnight pouts, the twinkle of amusement still shining bright in her eyes.
Aizawa wipes his mouth and sets his glass down with a sigh. “Well, if you must know…There is…someone I’ve been spending time with.”
"Someone!" His friends chorus, delighted.
Mic nudges him gently. “Well? Don’t leave us in suspense!”
"Who is it? Do we know them?" Midnight leans forward, giggling.
Aizawa looks down at his glass for a moment, contemplating how much he should reveal. Although he feels a little overwhelmed by their excitement and their scrutiny, he also secretly relishes the joy of sharing this part of his life with his closest friends. 
It feels good, he thinks, to be around them and to know that they care so much about him. And though he’s never been one to discuss his personal affairs, he trusts these two enough to share the parts of himself he usually kept guarded. 
Seeing the expectant looks on their faces, eagerly awaiting his answer, Aizawa's ears turn the faintest shade of red. 
“Do you want to meet her?” 
_________________________________________
"Had a fun night?" You greet your boyfriend with a hug when he shows up at your door well past a reasonable hour.
You don't miss the small smile on his face when he takes off his shoes. "Actually, I did. But Yamada and Kayama were pretty insistent on meeting you." 
"You told them about me?" you respond, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. 
He nods, not quite meeting your gaze. "I think they'd like you."
"Really?" You plop down on the couch with him and stretch your legs atop his lap. 
"Yeah," He gently grazes your thigh. "They were wondering why I've been acting so differently lately."
"Like what?"
"Apparently I'm smiling more and acting nicer and" — He air quotes — “Stopped looking homeless."
You laugh. "And what did you say?"
He shrugs, “That I guess my girlfriend just makes me really happy.”
“Awww,” you pat his cheek playfully. “What’s next? You gonna tell me you’re in love with me or something?”
"Yes? I thought it was obvious?"
"What?" Your heart skips a beat at his nonchalant admission.
“Hmm?” He looks over, and seeing the evident surprise on your face makes Aizawa chuckle. "I thought I'd been making it pretty clear, but I suppose I should say it outright. Yes, I'm in love with you."
Your heart flutters at his words, a warmth spreading through you. "Well, for someone who's known for being so straightforward, you sure took your time saying that."
He brushes a strand of hair from your face and leaves a soft, lingering kiss on your temple. “I’ll say it as many times as you want to hear it, baby.”
You lean in closer, your lips almost touching his. “Alright,” you look up at him with a sleepy smile and half-lidded eyes. “I’m waiting.”
"I love you," he whispers, his voice low and tender. He places a gentle kiss on your nose. “I love you,” and then another on your cheeks…“I love you.” Before gently brushing his lips against yours, cupping your jaw so you can’t help but gaze deeply into his dark, smoky eyes before he finally closes the distance between you.
“Mhhm.” You smile, contentment washing over you like a gentle wave. "I love you, too, baby."
2K notes · View notes
nykie-love-anime · 9 days
Note
Request for Rooster please :) basically fluff, not sure if you have something like this already but something along the line of y/n being a pilot as well, Rooster falling for them and trying to potentially impress them? Trying to confess before his chance is loss because he sees hangman around y/n time to time but Rooster doesn’t find out (immediately) that hangman and y/n are siblings so Rooster is torn between confessing or not (he does end up confessing)
Ahh thank you for the super cute request! I have a thing for writing sisters, you know ;)
Worst Day Ever
Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Seresin Sister!Reader
CW: Just a lil drabble, nothing fancy. A little cheesy. A bit fluffy. A lot goofy. The star of this show is Nat XD
WC: ~1100
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“This is the worst day ever.”
Natasha looks over at Bradley as he moodily packs up his things at the end of the briefing. She grins in amusement. “You sound like a toddler.”
Bradley exhales gloomily and directs his gaze toward the front of the room where you stand, chatting with Bagman. “What does she see in that dirtbag?” he makes a face of disgust.
“I guess she sees his abs.” Natasha shrugs.
Bradley gives her a flat look. “Not you too.”
“What?” she exclaims with a laugh. “I’m not denying that he’s got a shit personality.” She glances over at you and Jake. “But he’s easy on the eyes, what can I say?”
“Maybe I should challenge him to a push up contest,” Bradley muses.
“Dude, we’re in the military.” Natasha shakes her head. “Push ups are not going to impress her.”
“But his abs did the trick?”
Natasha purses her lips. “Have you seen him flex?”
“Maybe you should bag him,” Bradley proposes sourly. Then, he adds, “Actually, that’s not a half bad idea!”
“No,” Natasha responds curtly and starts for the door.
“C’mon, Trace. I will owe you.” Bradley trails after her. “I will pay you.”
Natasha stops just short of the door. “To do what?”
“We’ll invite them to the Hard Deck. You distract Bagman –”
“No,” Natasha repeats, exiting the room.
“I thought you had my back!” Bradley calls after her as the rest of the aviators assigned to the mission start filing out into the hallway.
“Someone leave you hangin’, Rooster?” Jake asks playfully as he walks by.
Bradley flashes an annoyed look in his direction and sees that you’re walking alongside him. He locks eyes with you briefly – for the first time ever – and then glances back at Jake irritably. “Don’t worry, Bagman. That’s still your undisputed domain.”
Jake scoffs while you drop your head to hide a smile.
“Hey Bagman!” Natasha calls from down the hall.
Bradley looks up to see her doubling back.
“You guys want to join us at the Hard Deck tonight?” she asks casually.
Jake raises his eyebrows in surprise, so shocked at the invitation that he doesn’t respond right away.
That’s when you say, “Sure! We’ll be there!”
“Drink as much as you want, Phoenix,” Bradley says giddily. “It’s on me.”
“You bet your ass it is,” Natasha says, taking a swig of beer. “I’m going to need it.”
Bradley doesn’t have a chance to laugh because that’s when you and Jake enter the bar.
The two of you make your way over to Bradley and Natasha’s table. Jake is scowling but your smile is bright enough for the both of you.
“Hey!” Bradley says, rising from his seat to greet you.
Jake gives him a dirty look and Bradley squares his shoulders to appear a little taller. Jake might have gotten to you first but that doesn't mean that Bradley can't, at least, try.
“How’s it going?” you say as you take a seat and Bradley could swear they’re the three sweetest words he’s ever heard in his life.
“Great,” he responds, beaming at you like an idiot.
“So good,” Natasha responds absently, downing the remainder of her beer. “I need a refill.”
Jake, who is just about to sit down, rises again with an irritable sigh. “What’re you drinking?” he asks.
Natasha grimaces at him. “I can get my own beer,” she responds, also getting up.
Jake gives her a phony grin. “I guess you’re used to it,” he bites back.
You elbow Jake aggressively in his leg and he nearly loses his balance. “Be nice,” you warn him.
Bradley watches Natasha and Jake head to the bar together, surprised that you’re familiar enough with Jake to physically assault him considering the briefing this morning was only the third time you’ve met. Bradley wonders if maybe you know Jake from before; that would explain your allegiance.
“I’m glad you guys came,” Bradley says to you, not really sure how else to start a conversation with a girl who’s more or less spoken for.
You smile at him. “Yeah, thanks for the invite!”
“Of course,” Bradley responds. He decides not to mention that the entire night was orchestrated just so he could spend time with you.
“Jake’s pretty excited.”
Bradley lifts his eyebrows dubiously and looks over at Jake who’s at the bar with Natasha. “He’s got a weird way of showing it.”
You laugh. “Oh, he’s far too ‘badass’ to show it.”
Bradley snorts and looks back at you with a grin. “I like you,” he says before he can stop himself.
You chuckle slightly and lower you gaze without responding.
“I mean it,” he says.
You shift slightly in your seat and change the subject. “Your low altitude pass yesterday was pretty awesome,” you say.
Bradley grins and straightens his posture proudly. “You saw that?”
“It was hard to miss.” You cringe slightly. “Cyclone was so mad, I'm surprised you didn't hear him yelling from the cockpit.”
Bradley winces. “Yeah, I may have gotten into some trouble. But hey, if it means you noticed me, it was worth it.” He lets out a chuckle.
You smile, your eyes resting on his. "I noticed you," you admit.
Bradley keeps his gaze on you, releasing a guilty sigh. What's he doing flirting with you when Jake has clearly already shown interest? He hangs his head sullenly and says, "Look, I don’t know what you and Bagman have going on –”
“Umm,” you interject, holding up a hand. Bradley looks up at you, already nauseated because he’s fairly certain you’re about to tell him off. Instead, you proceed to say, “You know he’s my brother, right?”
Bradley blinks at you in awe. After several lengthy seconds, he says, “Shut the fuck up.”
You start laughing. “What did you think?”
Bradley drops his face in his hands, embarrassed and relieved in equal measure. “That’s why you like him.”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you mutter sarcastically.
Bradley nearly chokes. “You’re hilarious,” he says.
You lean into the table toward him. “And you’re cute.”
Bradley stares at you in amazement and then grins sheepishly. “I’m so glad you think so.”
“Alright kids,” Bradley hears Jake’s voice and realizes that he and Natasha have approached the table. “We’re gonna call it a night.”
“What? Already?” Bradley exclaims, looking up at them. He instantly observes that Jake is holding Natasha’s hand. “Oh,” Bradley adds, meeting Natasha’s gaze with an amused grin. “Well, this is turning out to be an alright day.”
Natasha shoots him a threatening look but says not a word.
“Bradshaw,” Jake says, narrowing his eyes as he glances between you and Bradley pointedly. “Keep your hands to yourself.”
Bradley solutes him with a nod and a smirk and then says, “You have yourself a good night, Seresin.”
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nykie-love-anime · 9 days
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cw: kids, reader has birth control implant
"Do you have something to tell me?"
Bakugo still has half of his hero uniform on, smudges of grime and soot across his face and neck. There's a clear, white demarcation where his shirt was and a trail of dirt behind his boots.
"I just fucking vaccuumed."
"I'll do it later." He quickly dismisses, even as he begins to kick off his shoes. "Why are there condoms on the grocery list?"
You shrug and go back to parusing on your phone. "We'll need them."
"For fucking what?"
You shoot his a glance, one eyebrow lifted. "For sex, dumbass."
"Dumbass." He repeats back, tone high and mocking. "We've never used a single condom our whole relationship-- you let me cream you the first fucking date."
You wrinkle your nose, even though he's right. There hasn't been a day since that first date that you haven't felt the delightfully uncomfortable wetness of cum sliding around inside you.
"Don't say it like that- you're gross." You raise your arm and gesture to the little scar there. "My birth control has to come out- its at the end of its life."
He rolls his eyes with a grunt, arms crossed tight over his torso. "That's it?"
"You were the one who said a kid 'maybe next year,' so we'll need condoms until then."
Bakugo plops down on the couch next to you, throwing your calves over his thighs. "We'll just move up the timeline. Start making one now, baby for the summer. No condoms."
"No."
"No?"
"No. I don't want to be pregnant in the summer. It's too hot to be carrying another human-- and I want to drink on the beach."
Bakugo looks at you with a grimace, lip curled up to show gum. "Are you fucking serious?"
"We can start trying in, I dunno." You count on your fingers, trying to do the math. "End of August."
"August?!" he gapes. "Motherfucker. I gotta call Kirishima."
"About condoms?"
"I gotta ask him about saving his brats onesies." He leans back on to the couch, brow knitted tight. "There's no way I'm not knocking you up by accident before August."
You shoot him a glare.
He meets your eye. "Keep giving me attitude and you'll have a bun in the oven by next month."
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nykie-love-anime · 9 days
Text
𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘!
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Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader
Summary: Toji doesn't want another baby, and there's nothing you can do about it, so you come to terms with it.
Warnings: Pure Fluff
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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Toji doesn’t get baby fever. Out of the two of you, you’re the only one that squeals around a cute baby. Toji already knows parenthood, and he’s changed way too many diapers and done way too many late night feedings to know that he never wants to do them again.
Babies are cute, but at this point in life, he’d rather just be an uncle. He gets to hold and play with the baby, but gets to give them back when an accident happens. Unclehood is much better than parenthood, dare he say. He gets to do all the fun stuff and none of the bad stuff.
He doesn’t really want to do it all again, and there’s nothing that you can do to change his mind.
“Toji!” You yell from Megumi’s bedroom, and the man walks to the bedroom, annoyed. The man loves you to death, but he hears his name way too many times in this home.
He sighs, leaning against the doorframe as you open up a box. He makes his annoyance clear as he asks, “What?”
“I’m cleaning out Megumi’s closet, and look what I found.” You hold up the cutest onesie, one that fit six month old baby Megumi, something that feels like eons ago. Toji raises his brows, a smile coming to his lips.
“What? Are you thinking of having one?” Toji asks, and he’s surprised when you shake your head. It’s the first time you shake your head to that question. “Then what’s this?”
“Shouldn’t we donate it? Since we’re not having a baby, we don’t need these.” You tell him, and Toji can’t help but agree. There’s no way Megumi is going to fit into one of these onesies, even if he truly tried. 
“Let me help you.” He says, sitting down on the floor with you. You look at him, perking up your brows.
“What came over you? Suddenly being so helpful.” You chuckle, and Toji rolls his eyes as he grabs a onesie from the box. Why does it feel so small? He didn’t recall them being so small. “Who are you and what did you do with my husband?”
“Whatever happened to you wanting a baby? Who are you and what did you do with my wife?” Toji responds, wondering why now of all time you aren’t blabbering about how a baby would be a perfect addition to the house. These clothes are just so small and so adorable…
“I mean, we agreed to not have kids when we got married since you were done with that. It’s just unfair of me to ask for a baby when I know you don’t want more… So I accepted it.” You smile at him, feeling proud of yourself for this newfound maturity. Toji’s glad you’ve come to terms with it, because he was sure getting sick of it. 
He reaches into the box again, pulling out a pair of socks. He purses his lips together before looking at you. He didn’t remember babies having such small feet. “I’m glad that you–”
“I mean what’s even cool about babies? They’re cute, and nothing else. Then you have to…” You continue talking about the cons of babies, while Toji pulls out more and more clothes from the box. It seems to be getting smaller and smaller. His heart gets weaker with each item and he fights back the wicked thoughts. He can’t possibly be having… baby fever.
“Babies aren’t that great. Never have I looked at Megumi and thought ‘Oh I wish you were a stinky baby again.’ ” Toji says, but he pauses when he realizes that he’s had that thought before, way too many times. You chuckle before you quietly continue your task. Toji chews on the inside of his cheek, when he realizes something that he wishes he could push out of his mind.
He doesn’t want to be the one to bring it up, but you said you were done with asking. The umpteenth time is the charm or whatever they say. Toji hopes that by saying, “Oh, Megumi was just the chubbiest and sleepiest baby.” You’ll come to your senses. You have to go back to your duty of being the wife that annoys her husband for a baby, and this time around he’ll finally agree.
“Yeah, they’re sleepy until it’s three in the morning, then they’ll wake up.” You argue, not noticing what Toji is trying to do.
“He had the cutest sneezes.” Toji brings up.
“Yeah, means they’re sick because they put their hands on everything and then shove them in their mouths.”
“He was so cute when he laughed…”
“Have you heard how they cry? That easily outweighs that.” You don’t even notice how he’s putting the clothes back into the box. You keep taking out the same clothes, wondering why he had so many of the same set.
“For fuck’s sake! I want a baby.” Toji finally confesses, ashamed that he’s the one that has to bring it up. Your eyes widen, a smile coming to your lips before you practically jump on him to kiss him.
You kiss him over and over again, and Toji doesn’t want to fight you on it right now, but he has to put his hand over your lips when he senses the kiss leading to something else. He tells you, “Not in Megumi’s bedroom.”
“Right.” You laugh out of embarrassment, getting up from the floor and giving him a hand to do the same. 
He’s never seen you use so much force before as you drag him out of the bedroom. But it’s nice to see that you hadn’t really changed your mind, after all, that makes his job easier.
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nykie-love-anime · 11 days
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catch me or i go (houdini) | r.c.
summary: rafe witnesses a skilled burglar in the middle of the burglary. also, he can’t quiet seem to stop putting his foot in his mouth when it comes to you
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
word count: 6,6k words oops
warnings: mention of peterkin and what rafe did to her, cursing
author's note: i was listening to houdini by dua lipa and somehow got inspired to write this. also kind of lost myself in this fic bc i enjoyed writing it so much. pls leave a comment/like if you liked it and reblog to share. ily!!!
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“Are you sure you want to sell it off? We can put it in storage for you.”
Rafe waved the guy off, pushing a fifty in his hand. “It’s fine, just sell it for me, I don’t want to see it again, it’s gaudy as fuck.”
The guy, Jacob or whatever, scratched his head, but seemed pleased enough with the tip that he got into the car with the rest of his team, the trucks pulling off the property.
“Fucking finally,” Rafe sighed, running his hands over his buzzed hair. The renovation of the house was his first step of distancing himself from Ward and he started by getting rid of the ridiculous furniture Rose had chosen. While Rafe knew that it was going to be a pain redecorating, he’d live in the comfort of his own space, instead of being reminded of his psychotic stepmother whenever he sat in the living room. Rafe was about to go back inside when he heard a loud crash coming from Mr. Jenkins’ property. He hesitated for a split second. Rafe never really liked Mr. Jenkins, he was a nosy motherfucker and always liked to call the sheriff’s department when the parties got a little louder than usual. But if that old fuck died right now only to be found like a few weeks later? That stench would probably sit in his nose for months. So might as well be proactive now.
Ducking between the bushes - he really needed to call the guy who trimmed their greens - Rafe jogged over to Mr. Jenkins’ property, slowing his pace when he reached the property line.
“Mr. Jenkins?” he called, trying to sneak a glance into the house, without being spotted at the same time. It’d just be his luck that Mr. Jenkins shot him in the face for evading his property.
Nothing.
Served him right for trying to do the right thing.
Rafe turned on his heel, ready to return home when he caught movement in the second story window: Someone was climbing out of the window.
Reacting quickly, Rafe ducked beneath the bushes, hiding as he watched a girl shut the window behind her, tiptoeing across the patio roof and then scaling down the gutter, all the while carrying a huge backpack. She must’ve robbed Mr. Jenkins’ house, based on her dark clothing and the red bandana covering half of her face.
Rafe’s curiosity was piqued, and he didn’t even hesitate to follow her as she snuck off the property through the yard. He kept in the shadows, not wanting to alert her to his presence as she kept a rather slow pace to keep the attention off of her. Rafe followed her a few blocks down the neighborhood, until she took a left turn into a small, dark alley, but he hid behind the corner of a house when she stopped, pulling the bandana off. Rafe stared at the side of her face, knowing he’d seen her somewhere before, but not quite remembering where from. The lighting was also not helping, as he barely could make out her features in the shadows, while she tugged a floral shirt out of the backpack, throwing it over her black top. After having fixed her outfit, she kept walking, and right as Rafe stepped out behind the house, his foot caught onto an empty glass bottle, making an unnecessary loud noise.
Rafe froze, noticing how her shoulders tensed, barely looking over her shoulder, before taking off in a sprint.
“Wait!” He called, probably the dumbest thing he could have said, running after her but even before rounding the second right corner, she disappeared.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, looking around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her, but nothing. One of his neighbors was outside tending to her flowers, giving him a weird look. Rafe only let out a polite chuckle, giving her a wave before he turned on his heel, making his way back home.
“How the fuck did she just disappear into thin air?” He muttered to himself. As he walked through his gate, he couldn’t help to peek over to Jenkins’ house if the old man was home already, but the house was still dark. Rafe tried to get back to work looking at new furniture, but his mind kept going back to the thief. As the sun started to set Rafe finally heard Jenkins’ Aston Martin pull into his drive way, and he figured it wouldn’t take long until the sheriff’s department showed up.
Minutes went by, then hours, and Rafe started to wonder if there was some other case Shoupe had to attend to, must be a real big case if he couldn’t even spare one deputy to check out Jenkins. Then again, Rafe would’ve had heard about it. Kildare wasn’t that big. It was already dark by the time the sheriff’s car pulled up on the street. Shortly after, the bell rang and as inconspicuously as possible, Rafe opened the door, feigning surprise.
“Shoupe. What brings you here at this hour?”
The sheriff only looked at Rafe unimpressed. He was pretty sure that Shoupe still resented him for the entire Peterkin thing, but innocent until proven guilty, right?
“Rafe… There was a break in at Mr. Jenkins’ house and I’m just here to ask if you saw anything suspicious,” Shoupe said, flipping open a small notepad.
Rafe rubbed his chin, sighing. “A break in huh? That sucks. I haven’t heard anything, though, sorry that I am of no help. What was stolen?”
“Jewelry that belonged to his late wife. The thief broke into the safe and completely emptied it. Took all the cash, too,” Shoupe said, scribbling something down on his notepad before looking at Rafe again.
“Bummer… I’ll let you know though, if I happen to remember something,” Rafe added.
Shoupe let out a grunt, stuffing his notepad away and turned to leave. Rafe stood in the doorway, hesitating, before calling out.
“Hey Shoupe.”
He turned around, raising a brow at Rafe.
“What took you guys so long?”
“What do you mean, son? We got here as soon as Mr. Jenkins called us.”
Huh.
“Really?” Rafe said, thinking. “Sorry, I just thought Mr. Jenkins has been home for a while now and you’re just now questioning me. Was wondering how fast you would get here if I had a problem.”
Shoupe eyed him suspiciously. “Mr. Jenkins didn’t notice the break in until an hour ago, his security system was active when he got home, so he had no reason to suspect anything…. You sure you didn’t see anything?”
“Positive,” Rafe insisted. “Have a good night, Shoupe.”
The sheriff stood on the porch for another second before he left with a small headshake, leaving Rafe with his thoughts as he shut the door. The thief must have been a pro. Bypassing the security system and taking just enough to delay the sheriff’s department from investigating? That wasn’t an easy feat. To say that Rafe was intrigued was an understatement. The way she moved with such stealth and precision proved how she knew her way around sneaking in and out. There was no way this was her first hit. He wondered what motivated her to rob the house, if she was just a plain poor Pogue, or a Kook, doing it for the thrill of it.
Rafe had to find out more about the thief. Even two drinks in, he still had to think about her. And when he set his mind on something - or someone - there was no getting past it. He knew it was going to haunt him until he figured it out. Figure her out. Problem was, how the fuck would he? Right, Kildare wasn’t that big, but it wasn’t like he could just waltz around looking for her either. And chances are she was just some tourist, looking for some fun. Before he could start forming a plan to find out who she wa, his phone buzzed, distracting him.
Top: scarlet’s throwing a party tonite. u in?
Rafe thumbed at his screen, having half a mind to decline the invitation, but when he looked up, taking in the empty room, he almost got depressed. Why was he sitting on the fucking floor, thinking about some random girl he was probably never going to see again? Downing the last of his drink, he texted Top that he’d see him at Scarlet’s.
By the time Rafe arrived, the party was already in full swing. Weaving through the crowd, he greeted the familiar faces, gravitating towards the living room where he knew Scarlet’s father kept the expensive stuff.
“Hey Rafe!”
Lifting his head, he saw Topper on the couch with some girl, waving him over. Rafe took his time walking over, because what was he, a dog?
“’sup Top,” he greeted his friend with a light slap to the shoulder. “Give me your drink.”
“Alright, damn bro,” Topper said, handing Rafe his drink, before gesturing over to you, introducing you to him. Rafe gave you a nod as you smiled shyly at him, not bothering to exchange pleasantries. The last thing he needed right now was you simpering over him, no matter how pretty you were.
“Right, so where were we…” Topper said, apparently picking up the previous conversation you were having before Rafe joined them. “Are you leaving for university anytime soon?”
“Uh… No. I could go, but I don’t want to leave my mom all by herself, you know,” you answered, tucking your hair behind your ear. You looked like you’d rather be anywhere else but at this party. Rafe gave you a quick once over as he sipped on Topper’s drink. You were pretty, he figured. Maybe a bit mousy for his taste, with the shirt under your dress and a denim jacket on top? Other girls your age would have worn only the dress and maybe even cut a slit in it, just for the sake of it. Rafe’s brows furrowed as he looked at you more closely, pausing.
“… I know you?”
Topper gave him a very unsubtle look as he chuckled awkwardly, trying to play his friend’s rudeness off, while you just sat there, your back ramrod straight, smiling at him bashfully.
“She used to go to school with us? Then uh… Transferred during her senior year.”
Squinting his eyes at you, Rafe tried to think back to his school years, before realizing.
“Right, your dad embezzled like millions of dollars from his company right?”
Topper cleared his throat, looking up at the ceiling and you only smiled tightly at Rafe, the corners of your mouth not quite reaching your eyes.
“Um.. I think I’ll grab a drink, Topper,” you said, excusing yourself, quickly disappearing between the people. Topper waited until you disappeared to elbow Rafe into the side, who only smirked into his drink.
“What’s her deal?”
“Are you joking?” Topper asked with a sigh, pinching his nose. “You can’t just say shit like that man, it’s obvious she’s embarrassed. Why would you bring up her father?”
“Get off your high horse, it’s not like I embezzled a bunch of money,” Rafe huffed, shoving Topper off of him with an eyeroll. He knew that Topper was frustrated with him, but honestly, why would he care if he hurt your feelings. Topper inhaled deeply and Rafe just knew that an lecture was incoming.
“She’s a good kid. Lives just on the outskirts of the Cut now with her mom. I guess they can still afford to live on Figure 8, but her and her mother are too embarrassed to come back after all of their money was seized and her father got locked up in jail. Which is probably why we never see her around. Now, we’re definitely going to see her less because you’re such a dick.”
Rafe was only half-listening to Topper, processing what he had just been told, the gears in his head turning.
“Wait, what?” he asked, sitting up straight and looked at Topper, finally taking the conversation seriously. “How would they still be able to afford living on Figure 8 when all of their assets were seized?”
Topper shrugged his shoulders. “How the hell should I know? I’m just telling you what she told me.” He glanced to the back and paused, before looking back to Rafe. “She’s coming back. Just… Think before you speak.”
If this was any situation, Rafe would’ve probably bit Topper’s head off for being told what to do, but for once, Rafe decided to lean back and listen. A short while later, you slipped past a kissing couple, joining them on the couch, holding onto a red solo cup with both hands.
“What kind of toxic waste did Scarlet mix you?” Rafe asked as some sort of peace offering.
“Oh this?” you lifted your cup, laughing awkwardly. “It’s juice. Don’t really like alcohol.”
Rafe almost choked on his whiskey, and he let out a cough, trying to hide his surprise while Topper only leaned his head back with an exasperated look on his face, you only stared at him with an open mouth.
“Sorry, went down the wrong pipe.”
After that, Rafe didn’t ask you that much, letting Topper lead the conversation and instead just soaking up information about you. In the brief interaction he had with you, Rafe somehow got the feeling that you didn’t like him that much. He didn’t even know why.
Okay, he knew why. But honestly, he was just asking what everyone would ask, right?
When Rafe got home from Scarlet’s, he didn’t know that much more from you. After he really started paying attention to you, he realized that you never really divulged that much information about yourself, despite answering all of the questions. You were much smarter than Rafe had previously assumed. He wondered how many people you had fooled. But all of this was still a theory, and he had to put that to a test.
The next day, Rafe spent his morning asking the neighborhood about your family, disguising it as friendly neighborhood chatter and it was really far too easy. If there was one thing one needed to know about the people living on Figure 8 is, that they loved to yap.
“- just dreadful. That poor girl. Her mother took her out of the academy in her senior year and now they live next to Franklin Stewart on the other side of the island…” Susannah shook her head as she feigned distress, but Rafe didn’t believe an ounce of the compassion she was showing. She used to be best tea buddies with Rose, that really said it all.
“Oh man… I really hope her family is doing alright,” Rafe said stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Anyways… Thanks for the chat, Mrs. Cooper. I’ve kept you long enough.”
She only waved him off with an obnoxious laugh, “Please, don’t you worry about it. Give Rose my best wishes, okay?”
Rafe gave her a smile, which immediately dropped as soon as he turned to leave. “What a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, walking back to his house. At least it paid off having to talk to Susannah, since he now knew where you lived. He didn’t ponder over it long before he got on his bike, riding over to the Cut. As the mansions and well groomed front yards slowly turned smaller, one might say modest, he couldn’t imagine downgrading from Figure 8 to the cut. Though, now that he thought about it, he figured his family was pretty close from having to give up their life on the north side of the island. Rafe let his bike roll to a stop when he reached Franking Stewart’s house, laying his eyes on the only neighboring house.
It was pretty okay for a house on the Cut. Still on the cut, though.
He took off his helmet, placing it on his bike and getting off, walking in front of his house, contemplating his next move, when the door suddenly opened and a person exited. For a split second, he thought it was you, but upon closer inspection, he realized that it was your mother. She tugged a sun hat on, before pausing when she saw Rafe on the street.
“Can I help you?”
Rafe rubbed the back of his neck.
“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you… I’m Rafe, a friend of your daughters…” He said, approaching the house to avoid yelling all over the street.
Your mother beamed at him. “Really? I barely get to meet any of my daughter’s friends. She’s not home right now, but would you like to come in for a glass of lemonade?”
Rafe hesitated. On the one hand, it would be a perfect opportunity to find out more about your situation, and if you really were the thief like he suspected. On the other hand, if you happened to come home while he was still there, you’d immediately know that there was something going on. Then again, high risk, high reward?
“Sure, I’d love to.”
Rafe followed your mother into your quaint home, and while your mother was blabbering away, he took the time looking around the kitchen.
“- she’s a good girl, bless her. A bit too serious, though. I always try to encourage her to live a little, you know?” your mother handed Rafe a glass of ice cold lemonade, which he gladly accepted. He was a sucker for a good old homemade lemonade.
“She is a bit shy,” Rafe agreed with your mother, only making her laugh.
“And very headstrong. Which is why it’s so hard for me to get her to change her mind on anything. I’m just so upset that she took the whole thing with her father so hard… The burden of that really shouldn’t fall on her shoulders. Ever since we moved out here, she got more withdrawn, angry. I know she’s still upset, but I really feel like she’d be happier if she got out of her shell again.”
Hm. Maybe you were stealing to help your mother pay the bills, help your family stay afloat.
“Yeah, I’d know a thing or two about that.”
Your mother laid her eyes on Rafe, smiling sadly.
“I was very sad to hear about your father’s passing. I didn’t know him very well, but I’m sure he was a good man.”
Rafe almost scoffed, because only if she knew, but the noise died in his throat when your mother gave him a shoulder squeeze, rubbing his back.
“I hope you’re alright, honey. It’s hard to lose a parent at such a young age.”
His hand tightened around his lemonade glass, the coldness somewhat settling him down. He hasn’t felt the touch of a caring parent for a long time. “Thank you,” he pressed out, giving your mother a stiff smile. “Um… I should go. Don’t want to cause any more of an inconvenience,” he said, standing up.
“Oh please, don’t worry about it, I always love to meet my daughter’s friends.”
Your mother led him out of the house, and when Rafe passed the staircase that lead upstairs, his eyes caught a very familiar floral shirt tossed carelessly on the bottom of the stairs. Your mother followed his eyesight, palming her forehead, embarrassed.
“Oh god, please forgive the mess. I always try to tell her to keep her things in order,” she quickly said, picking up the shirt and hanging it over her arm. Rafe however only waved her off, giving her a charming smile.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a shirt.”
After bidding good bye to your mother, Rafe drove to the nearest beach, shutting his bike off to take moment to process. The shirt confirmed his suspicion, you were the thief he saw breaking into Jenkins’ house. He still didn’t know what your motives for stealing were. It was clear to him that your mother was very open about what your father had done, and you still seemed to be doing fairly well, all things considered. Where you paying the bills with the shit you stole from other people’s houses? Rafe stared at to sea for a second, before he got an idea, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
rafe: anything going down tonight?
top: uh
top: i think there’s a party at the boneyard.
top: pogue party, tho
rafe: thats fine.
rafe: you think you can get your friend to come?
top: … why? so you can embarrass her some more?
rafe: just want a second chance, maybe apologize
top: i’ll see what i can do. no promises, tho
“So, why did you really want her to come?”
Rafe was aware that Topper didn’t even have to say your name for him to realize who he was talking about. Rafe took a sip from his drink, wincing a bit. While he did say that he didn’t care about the fact this was a pogue party, they did always buy the cheapest shit. He could feel Topper’s gaze on him, scrutinizing and a little suspicious.
“I didn’t really make a good first impression. Just thought it’d be nice to make amends,” he finally said, his eyes set on the crowd around the bonfire, studiously not looking at his friend.
“Amends, huh?” Topper replied, sounding not at all convinced. “You’ve never been the type to care about stuff like that, Rafe.”
Rafe shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “People change, Top.”
“Or they have ulterior motives,” Topper shot back almost immediately, and Rafe couldn’t help but grin at the accusation.
He finally looked up to meet Topper’s gaze, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Can’t a guy try to be better without being accused of having a hidden agenda?”
Topper held his gaze for a moment longer before breaking into a grin himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "Just...don't mess with her, okay? She's been through enough."
Rafe raised his hands in surrender, his grin still in place. "Promise, Top. No messing around."
He did intend to make amends, but not for the reasons Topper thought. There were still so many questions Rafe needed answers to, and he was willing to play nice to get to them.
Topper only rolled his eyes at him, looking to the side for a bit. “Head’s up,” he muttered, before straightening his back, greeting you when you joined them.
“Hey guys,” you said, waving at them sheepishly.
Topper gave you a brief hug. “Hey, I was hoping you could make it. You remember, Rafe, right?”
“Yeah of course,” you replied, your voice light, but Rafe couldn’t help but think that your gaze somewhat hardened when you laid your eyes on him. He hoped that he was still able to salvage the relationship.
“Hey. Nice to see you again,” Rafe told you, giving you a charming grin. “You got anything to drink yet?” He looked pointedly at Topper, who stared back at him, his expression unmoving. Rafe inclined his head, raising his brow and Topper bit back a sigh, standing up.
“Let me get you something to drink. No alcohol, right?”
“Uh no, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “I’m not really thirsty anyways.”
Topper waved her off, lifting his own cup. “It’s fine. I need a refill anyway.” With that, Topper turned to leave, leaving you with Rafe.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable the other night,” Rafe started and you looked at him in surprise, your eyes widened. “I might have been a bit insensitive, maybe a bit too forward. I’m really sorry.”
It felt like swallowing gravel, the over the top apology, but he hoped that it came across as sincere.
You let out a breath, your forehead pinched, like you were holding something back. He saw a flicker of something in your eyes, and he realized you didn’t buy a single thing he just said.
“It’s fine,” you then said, smiling at him and Rafe raised an eyebrow, seeing past your facade, though he had to admit that you were a good actor. If he couldn’t get close to you by being nice, it seemed like he had to resort to his back up plan
“We good, then?” he said, offering you his hand, which you shook, after hesitating for a brief second.
“Sure.”
You leaned back against the boulder Rafe was sitting on, and an uncomfortable silence settled over the two of you. Rafe considered throwing himself into the black water, when you finally spoke up.
“My mom told me you came by this morning.”
“Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and your mother saw me outside your house,” Rafe explained, glancing over at you. “Hope you didn’t mind that I called myself a friend.”
“It’s okay..” You trailed off, like you were about to add something else, but hesitating. Usually, he’d be fed up with people not speaking when they want to, but he was intrigued and figured he’d give you the time you needed to spit it out.
“What did you and my mom talk about?” you asked lightly, but Rafe knew how loaded the question actually was. He waited for a beat, sipping on his drink before he answered, enjoying playing with you.
“Not much, really. Just said how happy she was to meet one of your friends… She’s really nice,” he added and you gave him a wry smile.
“Thanks.”
Rafe paused for a beat.
“You guys are doing okay, right? Financially, I mean?”
You narrowed your eyes at him and he was praying to god he was pressing the right buttons.
“Yes. Why?”
“Was just wondering,” Rafe answered nonchalantly, shrugging with his shoulders. “I remember when Ward’s company hit a rough patch and we almost lost our house. But now, we’re better than I ever, and really appreciate my home and everything in it. I can’t even imagine how it feels like to lose everything just like that.”
He turned to look at you, catching how you were clenching your jaw and like the perfect friend he was, Topper returned with two cups in his hand.
“Hey, so they didn’t have juice, but I go-”
“I’m so sorry, Topper,” you said, interrupting him with a small smile. “I have to go. I forgot that I promised my mom I would help her with something early in the morning. But I really appreciate you inviting me out.”
“I- What?” Topper asked, confused but you only gave him a quick wave, almost ignoring Rafe entirely, before you left. Rafe would almost feel bad for pushing you, if he didn’t exactly know where you were going. Topper on the other hand, turned to his friend, glaring at him.
“Bro, what the fuck?”
Rafe drank the last of his drink, clapping Topper on the shoulder.
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll explain soon. I gotta go, text you later, okay?”
He didn’t wait for a reply, tossing his empty cup into a trash bag and walking up the dune to get to his bike. Rafe took the straight way home, but decided to turn the engine off a few blocks before he got home, walking the rest of the way. The estate stood in darkness, not a single sound coming from it as he approached it, deciding to heave himself inside through a window, before deciding to wait.
It didn’t take long until he heard tinkering on the backdoor from the kitchen, then the unmistakable sound of the door clicking open. The door shut almost silently, and then quiet steps echoed over the marble floor. The moonlight shone through the window and that was the only reason Rafe saw you when you walked through the arched doorway of the living room. You froze mid step as you took in the complete lack of- well, anything.
When Rafe turned on the light, you barely reacted.
“How long have you known?” you asked with a sigh, pulling down the bandana, uncovering your face.
“Not long,” Rafe answered, as he leaned in the door way, his arms crossed. “You’re good at what you do, I’ll give you that. I was just paying attention.”
A range of emotions played on your feature - surprise, irritation, realization and then resignation.
“You saw me while I was in Mr. Jenkins’ house, didn’t you? You’re the one who was following me.”
Rafe merely raised an eyebrow and you groaned, pinching your nose.
“And you saw the shirt at my house. Damn it.”
Rafe smirked at your reaction. “So. Why are you doing this?”
Your eyes met his and Rafe actually saw a spark of defiance in them and for the first time, he actually believed you weren’t putting up an act. This was the real you.
“What’s it to you? It’s not like you’re planning on turning me in. Shoupe hates you more than he could ever hate me.”
“Well,” Rafe started, pushing off the door frame and walking over to you, “Let’s just say I’m curious. Clearly you’re a pro, but the question why is really bothering me. You need to pay the bills? Are you doing this for money?”
“What?” You asked, exasperated. “No, I told you, we’re doing fine financially.”
“Yeah ‘cause you’re such an honest person to come by.”
You gave him a look and only scoffed, turning on your heel to leave, but Rafe was quick to grab you by the wrist, holding you back.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
“Fine,” Rafe snapped, releasing your wrist, his eyes burning into yours. “But you’re not just getting off this easily. You tried to fucking rob me, you at least owe me an explanation.”
“I wasn’t going actually fucking rob you!” You bit at him, glaring at him with a challenging look in your eyes. Then, you sighed and ran a hand through your hair, a weary expression taking over your face. “Okay! Okay. You want an explanation? Fine.”
Rafe was taken aback by your sudden cooperation, but he wasn’t going to let his surprise show. Instead, he raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue.
“I’m not doing this for money,” you started, your gaze fixed on a point somewhere over Rafe’s shoulder. “I’m doing this because… Because it’s the only way I can get back at the people who ruined my family.
You finally looked at him, your eyes hard. "The people we used to call friends, the people who claimed to care about us, they were the first ones to turn their backs on us when my father was arrested. They didn't waste a second before they started spreading rumors, tarnishing our family name even further."
Rafe was silent for a moment, processing your words. "So you're... what? Stealing from them as some sort of revenge?"
You shrugged, looking away.
“What about the stolen items? If you’re just keeping them, you’re not really that different from your father, are you?”
“What did you just say to me?”
Your nostrils flared and you glared at him, your eyes burning. Interesting. You stole from people who spread gossip about your family, but at the same time, you resented your father, and his actions, Rafe assumed.
“I sell that shit. I’m not getting caught with stolen items,” you then explained, rolling your eyes at him. “And then I give the money away.”
“Hold up, what?” Rafe paused you, frowning. “What you mean you’re “giving the money away”?”
“I don’t have time to tutor you in English.”
“Shit, you really were putting up a shy girl act, weren’t you?” Rafe huffed in disbelief, shaking his head. You rolled your eyes at him and he was speechless for a moment, not having expected your motive. Personally, he would never steal money just to give it away. Why go through all that trouble to gain nothing from it? He had to begrudge you though, you really had a pair of balls on you.
“I’m giving it to people who need it, people who live on the cut,” you elaborated with a sigh.
“You’re actually insane,” Rafe pointed out. He then froze, thinking. “So what were you planning on doing with the stuff you stole from me?”
“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug. “You were pissing me off and I just wanted to see how far I could get.”
Rafe rubbed his jaw, at loss for words. “You really are something, you know that?”
Your lips twitched in a small smile. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Figured you would.”
Rafe glanced over at you, taking in your figure, clad in dark clothes, red bandana still in hand. “So what now?”
You seemed to wonder the same, your gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “I never thought I’d get caught, let alone by someone like you.”
Rafe tried to not get offended by that.
“Maybe I should get out of the game while I still can get away unscathed.”
“Sounds like a smart idea,” he said and you looked at him, biting your lip.
“Guess that’s my cue to leave, huh?”
Shrugging with his shoulders, Rafe made no move to stop you and nodded slowly, playing with the bandana in your hand.
“Cool… This was great,” you said, walking backwards. “Let’s not do it again.”
Rafe snorted and you turned around to leave, not before pausing, looking back at him.
“You’re not as bad as I thought you were, Rafe.”
With a grin, you disappeared into the hallway, no doubt leaving just the way you entered the house, leaving Rafe in the empty living room. That was the last time he saw you for a long time. Topper bombed him with questions, wanting to know what happened, but Rafe waved him off, not wanting to spill secrets that weren’t his to tell, but assured him that the two of your resolved your problems. For a while, Rafe though that you had gone against your words and just kept robbing people, but he hadn’t heard any chatter about any unsolved cases. For a while, Rafe thought that you had moved to the main land, but he happened to bump into your mother on a random afternoon, where she promptly thanked him for being such a good influence on you - which left him really bewildered. Because him? A good influence? He really didn’t want to know what that even meant.
When three months passed without a single sight of you, Rafe started to believe that you were avoiding him. Sure, you lived on the other side of the island, but again; Kildare wasn’t that big. He was bound to see you around at least once a month. Rafe wasn’t even exactly sure why it bothered him so much that he hadn’t seen you. Like, okay, he was curious about your story and the motives behind your burglaries at first, but he figured it all out, right? Rafe shouldn’t be wanting to see you anymore. Maybe he should ask Topper about you. But then again, the last time he did, it ended with you walking off.
“What, run out of girls to torment?”
Rafe lifted his head, surprised to see you grinning at him. He blurted out your name in shock like an idiot. He was so deep in thoughts, he hadn’t even notice you approaching him as he was sitting outside on the patio at Kelce’s party.
“What are you doing here?”
“It’s a party, what does one do at a party?” you answered, plopping down on the couch next to him, throwing your legs in his lap like you’ve done it 100 times before. You looked different, too, your outfit wildly contrasting to the nice girl from next door outfit you were wearing at Scarlet’s party. Rafe tried to hide his perplexity by plucking the cup out of your hand, taking a big swig, expecting juice or maybe a coke and nearly choked when he realized it was vodka cran (more vodka than cran).
“The hell?” Rafe coughed, giving you a side eye. “I thought you didn’t drink alcohol?”
“Whatever made you think that?”
You reclaimed your cup, drinking from it like it was water, giving him a coy smile. Rafe ducked his head, smirking. So this is what your mother meant by good influence? You seemed less angry, more comfortable in your skin, like you had unburdened yourself from protecting your family’s reputation.
“Well, you definitely should get your liver checked out if you’re making this a regular occurrence.”
“Yeah, pot, kettle,” you shot back, holding your cup out of his reach when he lunged for it again. If Topper happened to walk out to the patio to see Rafe and you bickering again, he didn’t mention it.
And just like that, you fit yourself into his life like you had always been part of it.
There was rarely a morning when you weren’t in the kitchen when Rafe came downstairs in the morning, never questioning how you got in, building stacks and stacks of pancakes with ingredients from his pantry. You even helped him pick out the new furniture for the house, as the rooms of the Cameron estate slowly filled with interior.
The biggest work in progress was the living room, and Rafe scrolled on his laptop looking for a couch that was big enough and fit in with the rest of the decor of the house. You were sitting on the outdoor sofa next to him, your legs thrown over the arm rest like a damn pogue.
“What about this?” Rafe said, flipping his laptop around to show you the white couch with gold lining. It looked classy and he thought it fit right in with the new wall colors.
You glanced at it, shrugging, before doing a double take, frowning.
“That’s tacky as hell.”
“You know, I think I liked you better when you were acting like you were shy,” Rafe sniffed with a dirty look in your direction, keeping on scrolling. You only snickered, picking up another piece of pineapple on the fork, eating it.
“I don’t think you do.”
Rafe ignored you, frowning at his computer screen as he continued his search. It was harder than expected, and at this point he wondered if it would be easier to hire an interior designer.
“Hey Rafe.”
“What?”
Rafe kept his eyes on the screen, not moving an inch, when you suddenly leaned over, leaning your hands on his thighs and pressing your lips against his in a soft, but very decisive kiss. He let out a soft grunt, not having expected the kiss, before he kissed you back, momentarily forgetting his search for furniture. You licked into his mouth briefly, before pulling away, grinning at him as he furrowed his brows at you.
“Still like me better shy?”
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author's note: did you like it?🥹
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nykie-love-anime · 11 days
Text
so obsessed with your ex | r.c.
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summary: “Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”
“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.
OR If Rebecca had known that her obsession with you would lead to you and Rafe getting back together, she would've done a whole lot different.
pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader / Rafe Cameron x OC
warnings: during most of this fic, Rafe is dating someone else. Sorry, it's part of the plot, but they don't do a lot of couple-y things, if that's any consolation! Rebecca is kind of delulu (actually, she is very delulu), but i'm hoping that most of you can relate to it, NO cheating!
word count: 4,1k
author's note: something very different, i'm aware, but i was like a woman cursed when i listened to olivia rodrigo's song sorry and this was what i envisioned. I HOPE YOU LOVE IT!!!! Also, I want to @ my loveys @rafesmuse and @rafetopia bc ily guys, thanks for the support and my wife @ghostofwriting mwah mwah mwah, happy reading!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
Rebecca had always felt secure in her relationship with Rafe.
Until she found out about you.
It all started when she was looking for a hair tie, knowing she had left a couple of them in Rafe’s bedroom whenever she stayed over.
“Baby, have you seen my hair ties? I swear I could’ve sworn I put them in the bedside drawer…” Rebecca muttered to herself, pulling open the drawers, rummaging through them. She froze when brushed a pack of condoms aside to reveal a picture she had never seen before. Rafe was talking to her from the bathroom, but Rebecca couldn’t hear a thing as she picked up the picture, looking at it with a funny feeling.
The picture looked like it was taken mid-conversation as you and Rafe were standing closely together, having eyes for no one but each other. Even thought you were barely touching, it felt weirdly intimate. More intimate than a close friend. And Rebecca had seen you around Kildare before, but you never had made an active move to talk to Rafe when they were at a party, so if you were friends, he definitely would’ve introduced her to you, right?
“Bex, hey. Did you find one?”
“What?”
Flustered, Rebecca looked up from the picture, her cheeks red and Rafe raised an eyebrow at her, a hair tie on his open palm.
“I asked if you found a hair tie. I put them in the bathroom,” he said, rounding the bed to hand it to her. “What d’ya got there?”
“Oh, just a picture I found,” Rebecca said quickly, taking the hair tie out of his hand, moving to put the picture back in the drawer, but Rafe was quicker, snatching it out of her grip with a laugh.
“Are we starting to lie each other now?”
Rebecca watched him closely as he took a look at the picture, pressing her lips together as he paused, taking it in.
“That’s-” she broke off, clearing her throat, before she said your name. “… Right?”
“Yeah, yeah…”
Rafe frowned, before he lifted his head to look at her. Rebecca couldn’t quite decipher the look on his face. She had never seen him like this before.
“I didn’t know you dated her,” she said, nonchalantly, hoping he would deny it. But Rafe only shrugged, glancing at the picture one more time before he put it back in the drawer, shutting it close.
“We broke up before you came on the island, how were you supposed to know?”
Rafe pressed a kiss to her temple, but Rebecca was still fixated on the picture, staring at where she knew it laid inside the drawer.
“Are you ready? Top’s gonna come pick us up in a few.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Rebecca replied, distracted. “Uh, you can go downstairs, I’ll be down asap.”
“A’ight.”
Rebecca smiled at him, waiting until he left the room, before she slid open the drawer again, reaching for the picture to stare at it, her thumb rubbing circles into the corner, wondering who was still printing pictures in this day and age. She wasn’t sure how long she was standing there, jumping when she heard Rafe yelling for her.
“Bex, Top is here!”
“Coming!” Rebecca called back and without thinking, she slipped the picture into her purse before heading downstairs.
To say that Rebecca grew infatuated with you after finding that picture was an understatement. She was obsessed.
Okay, maybe not obsessed, that had a weird tone to it. Fixated.
She was pretty fixated on you.
Rebecca immediately had followed you on instagram when she got home later that night. Scrolling through your profile, she noticed that while you weren’t following Rafe and vice versa, you still followed all of his friends and his family. Rafe’s younger sister Wheezie seemed to be a constant in your life still, judging by her comments under all of your pictures. Apparently you were still well-liked by his family friends, and Rebecca started to wonder why you and Rafe broke up. But it wasn’t like she could ask Rafe why you broke up, right?
“What?” Topper stared at her, as if Rebecca had just asked him to give her 1k. His look made her nervous though, and she glanced over her shoulder, making sure that Rafe was still out of earshot.
“You’re his best friend,” she stated, albeit unnecessarily. “You have to know.”
Topper rubbed his jaw, like he was conflicted, which Rebecca really didn’t understand. What was the big deal? She had intentionally waited until Topper was a little tipsy, and now she was wondering if that was a mistake, since he seemed strangely paranoid.
“You’re his girlfriend. Shouldn’t you be asking him that question?”
“I don’t want to stir up trouble! Why can’t you just tell me?” Rebecca raised her voice, her cheeks flushing when she realized that people were starting to stare, so she burrowed deeper into the couch, waiting until everyone went back to their business. Maybe she shouldn’t have asked this at a party.
“It was a mutual break up,” Topper then answered, speaking slowly like every single word was gravel in his mouth. “Rafe never really told me why, but they just disappeared out of each other’s lives from one day to the next, as if they haven’t been dating for the last four years. But she never said anything bad about him in the aftermath… Neither did he.”
That just created more questions than it answered, but before Rebecca could get her thoughts sorted to prod Topper again, Rafe returned, his shoulders lose.
“Your drink,” he said, handing Rebecca a cup, settling down on the couch next to her, throwing his arm over the back. He hadn’t even been sitting for a minute, when Topper got to his feet, muttering something about finding the pong table for a game.
“What’s with him?”
Rebecca only shrugged, choosing to sip on her drink instead of giving an answer, her mind still reeling from the information she got from Topper. The more she learned about you, the more she was intrigued and filled with questions, that she felt like would never be answered.
“You good?”
Rebecca barely lifted her head from the window she was leaning it, her reaction a little slow. She had been… Drinking a little more than she liked. Every time she wanted to ask Rafe about you, she stopped herself and went for another drink, and that process had repeated itself over and over again until Rafe cut her off, deciding to take her home. Rebecca was more than tipsy, her inhibitions slightly out of control.
“Fine,” she replied with a little sigh, rubbing her temple. She could feel Rafe’s eyes on her and she could feel her resolve crumbling. “Why did you guys break up?”
The car swerved off the road for a second, making Rebecca grab onto the arm rest to keep steady while Rafe cursed.
“The fuck?” he said, glancing over at her with a frown. “Where the hell did that come from?”
Rebecca exhaled deeply through her lips before she looked over to him, her brows furrowed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Topper told me you were dating for four years, Rafe. Four years! But he couldn���t even tell me why. Isn’t he your best friend? He should know that, right?”
Rafe stared at her, as if trying to gauge her reaction. Rebecca hadn’t even noticed that he had pulled the car to the side, the motor long off.
“Is this like a test or somethin’?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. I’m just genuinely curious. She seems-”
Nice? Super pretty? Like his perfect match?
She didn’t finish her sentence.
“What?” Rafe muttered under his breath, and Rebecca only scoffed in annoyance.
“Whatever,” she huffed, leaning her head against the window again. “Just forget it.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Rafe just sitting there, turning the ring on his finger, letting out an exasperated sigh.
“We got into a lot of fights near the end,” he started, his tone defeated. “She’s pretty headstrong, likes being right. I like sticking to my opinion… It wasn’t healthy anymore, so we both knew that something had to change, even though I still…. There was still love.”
Rafe stopped, but Rebecca held herself back with saying anything, wanting to soak up every bit of information he was willing to give her.
“We figured a clean cut would be best for both of us, have no contact. Give us a chance to start fresh, see new people.”
Rebecca could tell that he was holding something back, probably something along the line of how he was struggling with the no contact rule, but didn’t want to seem like he was still holding onto you.
“She’s really pretty,” she only said.
“Yeah.”
Do you still love her?
Rebecca was glad that she was still able to hold herself back enough to not ask that. She had a feeling that she wouldn’t like the answer that much.
“Thanks for telling me.”
“Yeah. You done throwing tantrums?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes with a small smile and settled back into her seat while Rafe started the car to continue their way home. Most girlfriends would probably feel angry that their boyfriend seemed to be so sentimental still when it came to their ex, but all that Rebecca could think about was how you clearly were someone he held dearly, and that she wished to be that reach that point soon.
And when she was about fall asleep after they got home to his place, she wondered how often you had fallen asleep on her side of Rafe’s bed like this. She thought finding out more about your relationship with Rafe, she would stop obsessing you.
But she didn’t.
She kept it to herself, however, not mentioning you again after that one talk in the car she had with Rafe.
Rafe, who had been lighter ever since he talked about you, ever since she pushed him to talk about, which showed her that it was the right thing to do. Her fixation on you helped her relationship with Rafe and to her, that justified the amount of times she was checking out your social media, but Rafe wouldn’t understand. She admired you. Honestly, Rebecca felt like she could become pretty good friends with you, but what excuse did she have to talk to you besides dating your ex boyfriend? Worst case, she’d curse you out, best case she’d give you a fake smile. No thank you. Rebecca would much rather stick to admiring you from afar.
… Which was the reason why she was so nervous, when she met you for the first time. In her defense, this was the last place she had expected to see you. The place being Kelce’s house.
It was his birthday, and to celebrate it, he decided to throw a huge rager at his house. While Rebecca did arrive with Rafe, they quickly separated, with Rafe trying to find Kelce - this was his birthday after all - and her going to see her friends. After about two hours, and Rafe not replying to her texts, Rebecca started to walk around to see if she could find him. Which was easier said than done, the house was packed. When it took her nearly half an hour to get through the kitchen, Rebecca almost gave up until she saw Sarah sitting in the corner of the couch talking to someone.
“Sarah!”
Although Rebecca wasn’t the closest with her, she was about the only person she knew right now, and she could use a familiar face. Slipping between a kissing couple, she made her way straight to the couch, touching Sarah’s shoulder gingerly.
“Hey, I’m so glad I saw you. Have you seen Rafe anywhere? He hasn’t been answering his texts and I-”
Rebecca trailed off when she noticed Sarah glancing to her friend, only to realize that it was you who Sarah had been sitting with, and her words get stuck in her throat.
Oh.
“Hey,” you smiled at her, alarmingly genuine. “Rebecca, right?”
“Yeah.”
You nodded, your eyes warm. “We haven’t met. I’m-”
“I know who you are,” Rebecca interrupted you, her cheeks warming when she realized what she was alluding to. You exchanged a discreet look with Sarah and Rebecca willed the ground to open up and swallow her with the way the conversation was going.
“They’re probably in the basement,” you offered, maybe as some sort of olive branch. “Kelce likes to hide away down there to play pool during his parties.”
“Oh yeah yeah, Rafe probably doesn’t even have any bars down there,” Sarah chimed in.
“Right, okay, thanks,” Rebecca said, awkwardly. She stood behind the couch like a deer in headlights. You must have noticed, because you grabbed Sarah’s arm, scooting back on the couch to make more space.
“You can join us, if you want.”
“… Really?” Rebecca asked skeptically, not quite sure if the invitation was genuine or not.
“Yeah, ‘course.”
Hesitantly, she sat down next to Sarah, trying to get comfortable but she was far too aware of your presence, placing her purse in her lap.
“So have you already settled into Kildare?”
Your eyes were inquisitive and Rebecca was trying to see if there was any sign of malice or distrust in them, but all she could see was genuine interest.
“I mean, I guess so… Life down here is pretty chill. Like it’s its own world…?” Rebecca winces at her own words. “Sorry, that’s stupid.”
“No, no!” You insisted, waving your hands at her quickly. “I know exactly what you mean. We went to Charleston once to tour the college campus there and it was like we were on another planet, remember Sar?”
Sarah’s eyes widened and she nodded quickly, slapping your arm in excitement. It looked like it hurt, but by the way you were laughing, Rebecca assumed it was a regular thing. She wouldn’t know, she barely ever spent over twenty minutes with Rafe’s sister.
“Remember when we were auditing that one sociology class and Rafe fell asleep during the lecture?”
“Oh my god, yes. Because he and Top were playing that stupid video game that came out two days earlier all night long.”
You and Sarah giggled as you reminisced about the past, like two best friends and Rebecca grew envious of your friendship, wondering if she was ever going to have that kind of relationship with Sarah, though you did have running start with building a friendship with her outside of being Rafe’s girlfriend. Or ex, rather. Rebecca started rummaging in her bag, acting like she was looking for something, doing anything to seem less excluded, really.
Your laughter subsided and you smiled at Rebecca, stilling her hands in her purse when she realized the attention was back on her.
“How is Rafe?”
“Oh you know him,” Rebecca replied, a little less nervous now that she was talking about a topic where she wouldn’t feel left out, taking her purse off her lap, placing it on the couch between her and Sarah. “The usual. He’s more focused on keeping up the company than ever, been away a lot.”
You nodded, tucking your hair back, and for a second, you looked incredibly sad. Rebecca wasn’t sure if she was imagining it, because a second later, you were smiling again.
“I’m really glad he has you,” you then said, completely surprising Rebecca. “I think you’re really good for him. Rafe has been really hard on himself, taking everything a little too seriously, and I think you’re really balancing it all out.”
Rebecca’s eyebrows have almost disappeared into her hairline by now, she was so shell-shocked she didn’t even notice Sarah clinking herself out of the conversation, crossing her arms as she sat back.
“Isn’t it weird for you?”
“You mean because he’s my ex and you’re his new girlfriend?” You smiled wryly at her. “I guess it’s a little weird. But it’s not like there’s any bad blood between Rafe and I… In the end, I just want him to be happy, and it seems like you’re making him happy.”
Ducking her head, Rebecca hoped that it was dark enough to conceal her red cheeks. To her, this felt like an insanely gracious statement and suddenly, Rebecca felt validated for obsessing over you so much. You were great and she wasn’t being parasocial.
“I- Thank you. That really means a lot.”
“Of course, don’t worry about it,” you said with a smile, glancing at Sarah when she tugged on the ends of your hair gently. “What, do you want to leave?”
“I promised John B I’d meet him on the beach at sunrise.”
“Fine,” you sighed, you and Sarah standing up. Rebecca stayed seated, though she couldn’t help but feel disappointed that the conversation was cut short.
“It was really nice to talk to, Rebecca. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”
Rebecca waved good bye to you and Sarah, watching as you left with Sarah whispering into your ear insistently. She sat there by herself for a while, replaying the conversation in her head, before she realized she was being weird. Clearing her throat, Rebecca grabbed her purse, that still sat open next to her, her smile dropping when she saw that the picture she had snuck from Rafe’s drawer was peaking out of it.
“Shit,” she muttered to herself, pushing the picture deeper into her purse, before looking up into the crowd, wondering if you had seen it, and if you did, what you thought of her.
“Do you want to do something today?”
After discovering the picture had been sitting in the open like that, Rebecca started worrying if she just ruined her impression you had of her. But seriously, how stupid could she be? She completely forgot that the picture was in that purse. Rebecca had spent the remaining time at the party worrying what you thought of her.
“Like what?”
Rebecca rolled over in bed, looking up at Rafe as he got dressed. It was late in the morning, but still early enough for her to be tired after getting back from Kelce’s so late.
“I don’t know, something fun.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, his face disappearing momentarily while he put his shirt on.
“I have a meeting with Mr. Harris this afternoon and I’m meeting Dennis for an early lunch.”
“But it’s Sunday,” Rebecca pointed out, sitting up, a frown on her face.
“Work is work, no matter what kind of day it is.”
“Sorry, I just thought it’d be nice to do something fun for once,” she said, knowing she would spent the entire day worrying about what you thought of her if she wasn’t distracted, not noticing how Rafe was looking at her through the mirror.
“What’s going on with you?” he asked, his brows furrowed. “You never cared about that before.” Rafe paused, realization washing over his face. “You talked to-” His voice cracked, and Rebecca raised an eyebrow at him.
“… You talked to her, didn’t you?”
Rebecca could hear the accusatory tone in his voice and she leaned against the headboard, drawing her legs close.
“I did, at the party last night… She said she’s happy that you have me, that she was worried about how you work too much.”
Rafe was quiet for a while and Rebecca could feel a knot forming in her stomach. She couldn’t have two people be mad at her.
“That’s what she said?”
Nodding quickly, Rebecca smiled at him brightly. “Yeah. She was really nice. I like her.”
He let out a quiet huff, followed by a headshake, and she wasn’t quite sure what to do, nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.
“Alright. Maybe I can cut my lunch meeting short and we can do something after,” Rafe relented, and Rebecca looked up at him in surprise.
“Really?”
“Yeah, I’ll text you later, alright?”
With a wave, Rafe left the bedroom, and Rebecca laid back down, letting out a happy sigh. Everything is working out in her favor!
A couple of hours later, Rebecca was standing in front of her closet, scanning the different clothes that hung in there, trying to decide on what to wear. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had planned, so she didn’t want to be completely inappropriately dressed. Letting out a annoyed sigh, Rebecca picked up her phone to text her friend for some fashion advice, stilling when she saw the new notification.
“Oh my god.”
You followed her back on insta! You must have not seen the picture after all and think she was weird!!!
Rebecca’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, wondering if she should dm you, maybe ask if you wanted to hang out, before she decided against it, putting her phone back on the dresser, face down. She didn’t want to seem to eager, she could wait a week.
Okay, maybe not a week, Rebecca thought, picking out some shorts and a red top, but a few days at least.
When she was all done, Rebecca grabbed the keys to her car, making her way over to Rafe’s place after he said he was done. It was a beautiful day out and she was so excited to see what he had planned for their date. Parking her car behind Rafe’s truck, she got out, heading inside.
“Baby, it’s me!” she called, shutting the door behind her. She didn’t have to wait long, until she could Rafe coming down the stairs, a box in his hand.
“What’s that?”
Rafe looked at her, his face unreadable.
“… What’s wrong?”
He let out a sigh, before stopping in front of her, and as Rebecca looked into the box, she realized it was full of her stuff.
“We need to talk,” he said, and her jaw dropped.
“What?”
“I just don’t think I’m in this relationship as I thought I was, and I don’t want to string you along, Bex,” Rafe explained, pushing the box into her arms. She just accepted the box, too shocked to do anything else.
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You did the opposite, actually. Helped me see what I was really feeling. And I thought I’d get this over with, before anyone else gets hurt,” Rafe told her. “You understand, right?”
She only blinked at him, nodding dumbly.
A grin grew on Rafe’s face, and he stuffed his hands in his pocket. “Great. I knew you would understand.”
With an arm on her back, he lead Rebecca outside, and she just let him, moving on autopilot.
“I’ll see you around Bex,” he said, standing in the doorway, his hand on the door. “Don’t be a stranger.”
With those words, Rafe shut the door in her face, and Rebecca just blinked, still not having processed the situation.
“And he said he doesn’t want to string you along?”
“Yes.”
The words were muffled.
Rebecca was facedown in her pillow, hoping to die of embarassment, even if Jane was her best friend in Kildare. It had taken her a week to recuperate before she could tell her friends what happened, mostly because she still wasn’t sure what had happened.
“Are you okay?”
She lifted her head, giving Jane a look.
“I just don’t understand why he broke up with me.”
Jane waved her off, picking up her phone. “Oh don’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll come crawling back tom- Never mind.”
“What?”
Having stopped mid-sentence, Jane was staring at her phone, eyebrows raised so high and Rebecca groaned, taking the phone out of her hand.
“You can’t just stop talking in the middle of the-”
Her eyes widened when she saw what had rendered Jane speechless: Sarah had posted an instagram story, a picture of a couple walking hand in hand in front of her. It was dark and a little blurry, but Rebecca could tell exactly who it was: You and Rafe.
“He’s such an asshole!” Jane screeched, snatching her phone out of Rebecca’s hand. “Let’s egg his house!”
Rebecca only snorted, rubbing her hands over her face with a groan. “J, no. Believe it or not, but I feel like this one’s on me.”
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: tell me what you think :)
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nykie-love-anime · 13 days
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Yuji:1 -  Sukuna:0 This is probably the silliest thing I have ever drawn, no regrets 🌶️
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nykie-love-anime · 13 days
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Hey! I hope your doing good! Idk if you request are closed or open but if they are closed then please ignore this. You know when girls read or do something we always have our hand in our boob like always holding it. Maybe you could write something like some head canons of Joe reacting about it and then proceeds to do it. Nothing sexual! Like when your cuddling , watching movies , talking in bed or doing whatever and he is holding the boob like she would. Anyways have a good day!!🙌✨
i love boobs.
~
"where is your hand.." joe asks, he's been spooning you for the past hour while you both are watching a movie and he just reached up in attempt to hold your hand but it was a failed one as he couldn't find it.
"under my shirt" you tell him nonchalantly still focused on the movie playing on your television screen.
"what's it doing under your shirt?" he asks with a frowned eyebrows, getting up on his elbow so he could get a better visual.
"holding my boob" you say as if it's the most normal thing in the world because, it is. but apparently not to him.
his frown deepens, he tries to work his brain as to why you'd hold your boob while watching a movie but he comes up with zero answers and decides to ask you, "why are you hold your boob?"
"because!" you finally turn to face him, the smile on your face fades when you see that your answer still hasn't made sense to him so you elaborate. "it's comforting and nice, it's like my little stress ball" you shrug and absent mindedly squeeze your boob when a thought pops up in your head. "do you wanna try?"
his squinted eyes return to their big doe shape in surprise, he tries to hide his excitement but it's nearly impossible to contain the smile creeping onto his mouth. "can i?"
"don't be silly of course you can" you chuckle, taking his hand under your shirt and placing it on your chest, closing it around your boob, making him squeeze it then letting go of his hand to grab your other boob.
"oh wow.." he lays back on his side and pulls you closer, his fingers tracing shapes on your skin, squeezing and squishing your boob mindlessly every now and then. "this is comforting and nice"
"see! i told you!" you laugh and push your body back closer against his, settling in comfortably as the both of you continue watching the movie with two of your hands massaging both your boobs ever so casually.
that's where it started. now he can't get enough.
everyday after he finishes work, he comes to you asking, "can i hold your boob?" it didn't matter what you were doing. you could be in the kitchen chopping up vegetables and he'd still hug you from the back asking, "are the stress balls available?" before sneaking his hand up your shirt and cupping them in his palm while his head rests on your shoulder.
sometimes you could be laid in bed, facing each other and having a conversation. telling one another about how your day went, sharing the smallest details and speaking about your plans for tomorrow while his hand would be against your chest, stroking the skin of your tits and running his fingers up and down between then gently.
nothing about his touch was sexual. it was merely for comfort. both his and yours.
today, he got home after a long day of shooting for his newest project, a fifteen hour shoot that left him completely drained out and exhausted. the first thing he did was barge into your shared bedroom and climbing into your bed still in his clothes, wrapping his arms around you and laying his head on your chest then creeping his hand underneath your top, his palm quickly finding your boob and holding it.
his breathing is still unsteady, he probably ran up the stairs from the car. eager to fall into your embrace and you engulf him in a hug as he catches his breath, your hands finding their home in his curls, massaging his scalp making him whine against your body, "tired baby?"
he hums, nodding, "just wanna fall asleep" he mutters, squeezing your boob, your little stress ball became now his too.
"joe you need to change first, you won't be comfortable sleeping in those pants" you tell him and he ignores you initially, pretending to already be asleep by fake snoring. you roll your eyes at him, "wow you're asleep but your hand is still somehow able to squeeze my boob, what kind of sorcery is that"
he chuckles and lifts his face up so he could stare at you, giving your his best puppy eyes, "i'll go change i promise, just give me a few more minutes with boobie first, please please please" he says, pleading you jokingly and kissing your collarbones.
"lucky boobie, it got your attention before i did. you didn't even give me a kiss when you got home" you pout at him and he immediately lifts himself up, kissing your lips so many times until you have no choice but to smile.
"all good? got all the attention you need? can i go back to boobie now?" he asks and earns a light slap to his cheek making both of you laugh but you try to put on a serious face quickly.
"joseph anthony! you're banished from ever holding my boob ever again! you've abused the company policy and provoked me to take legal action." you push him off but it only makes his grip on your boob tighter as he laughs, attaching himself to your body.
"if you want to get rid of me, you'll have to rip my cold dead body off of you first. i'm not going anywhere."
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nykie-love-anime · 13 days
Text
Simon "Ghost" Riley x Soap's Sister!reader
Summary: Because Johnny found him sleeping with his sister, Simon had to live the last three months without you, but he's about to get his girl back.
warnings/notes: a little smut 18+, cursing, drinking. That's probably it. Oh, typos, im sure, as well.
words: 1830
Part 1
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He drinks at the same bar. The one his team practically lived in when they were all together for an evening, but that doesn’t happen anymore, not with the entire group. Johnny stays home if he knows Simon will be attending the night out, and Simon, if informed Johnny wants to be with the team, elects to remove himself from the situation for everyone’s comfort. He figures it’s the least he can do. He’d slept with his best mate’s sister, he’d fallen in love with his best mate’s sister, and so he has taken on the consequences, no matter how infuriating and unreasonable and unfair. 
“You want another, Honey?” the bartender asks. She grins. Her eyes shine with desire, as they have all night, and it might be a pleasant sight if Simon had never met you. He might’ve taken her home, fucked her like a toy until he was spent and she was happily ruined by his cock before he kicked her out. But she isn’t you. No woman is you.
“Keep ‘em comin’,” Simon replies, downing the amber liquid in his glass. 
Suddenly, the stool beside him slides across the hardwood floor, now occupied by a newcomer he wouldn’t hesitate to shove to their ass if he could do so without causing a scene. What kind of rude bastard risks sitting next to someone when ten other seats are open?
“Actually lass, do me a favor and cut ‘im off. I need ‘im in his right mind.”
Simon almost chokes at Johnny's voice but he doesn’t turn his head as he slowly sets the glass back down on the counter, his fingers tightening around it. Anger, confusion, pain, anxiety. It all crashes over him in a hefty wave, because rolled into this one man is both the friend Simon has missed for months and the asshole who has forced him to be apart from the love of his life. And it’s almost too much to handle at once.
“I’ll take his drink,” Johnny tells the bartender, who has lost all hope now that the man she’s been attempting to charm is no longer lonely enough to be convinced to take her home. When she places the glass in front of him, he takes a sip. “You look like shit, Ghost.”
“What do you want?”
“We got a problem,” Johnny says, getting right to it. “A bit of a disaster, really, and I gave it my best shot, but I can’t fix it.” Simon blinks. His brows pinch. Johnny drains the remainder of the alcohol and wipes his mouth with the back of his forearm. “She’s miserable. And considerin’ the timeline, I’d wager it’s because she’s without you.”
Simon’s heart—though had fallen from his chest months ago—sinks lower into his gut. 
“Look, I didn' believe it was that deep,” Johnny continues. “Figured you were jus’ messin’ around. Being stupid and disrespectful with my baby sister. But I cannot have her miserable, Ghost. It won’t do.” He looks at Simon and releases a long sigh. “She loves you. I don’ like it but she does, and you need to make it better.”
“What exactly are you askin’ of me?”
Johnny’s eyes land back on the empty glass. He plants his elbows on the counter and rubs his fingers across his forehead, kneading the wrinkles. “Just…go to her, alright?”
That snaps Simon out of his grumbly attitude. “You serious?”
“Unfortunately,” Johnny says. 
Simon practically leaps out of his seat, nearly knocking the stool to the floor as he shrugs on his jacket. He’s almost at the door, but then he stops. Taking a breath, he turns back to his old friend. “Will you be able to handle this?” Simon asks. “Me and her? Because you can't ask me to let her go, Johnny. Not twice.”
Johnny takes a second, then he gives a brief nod. “I’ll adjust. Somehow. With time; lots of time.”
It isn't much reassurance, but it's enough for Simon to be on his way. He rushes out the door, jumps into his truck, and races down the road. He forgets the seatbelt. Ignores the speed limit signs. You don’t live far, and you’re worth the risk if it means getting to you faster. 
He knows the elevator in your building is much too slow because he’s been in it a hundred times. He has made out with you in it; fucked you in it, slamming the emergency button so no one could interrupt on the nights you couldn’t wait to get to your bedroom. So he takes the stairs. Two at a time, up eight flights, and down the hall. With a heaving chest, he bangs on your door. 
“Love, open up!” He knocks harder. Loud enough to make your neighbor pop her head into the hall to understand the ruckus. 
“Oh, wonderful. You've returned,” the old woman huffs. “And just when I was starting to believe I’d never again have to endure listening to that moaning and groaning at all hours.”
“We talked ‘bout this back in June, Mrs. Brimsby. Get yourself some earplugs,” Simon retorts before calling for you again. “Baby, please, it‘s me!”
“I’ll report the two of you for the noise.”
“You probably should. You’re in for a long night.” He hears a scoff but doesn’t bother to glance in the direction it comes from. 
“Still so disrespectful,” she spits before slamming the door to her apartment. 
Simon has held a low level of hatred for the old bat since the morning after the first time you’d slept together. It was an early Sunday full of soft touches and kisses and tea to nurse the mild hangovers you’d both had because of a couple of drinks the night before—the drinks that allowed the two of you to finally surrender to the sexual tension. After kissing you goodbye, he’d stepped out of your apartment with a smile he hadn't donned in quite some time, only to have it wiped away from the unexpected grandma in a collared nightgown tapping her foot as she stroked the fur of the cat in her arms. 
“You kept us up all night,” she had scolded. “We need our sleep.” The cat then hissed for emphasis. 
Now, Simon has never been so happy to have that woman blathering in his ear. She reminds him of home, because home is with you and this is where you are. Getting yelled at shoots him into the memories of the time you spent together all those months ago. The stupidly high levels of bliss that, based on the trajectory of his life at the time, he’d assumed was more of a myth than anything. But you had made it real. You had soothed the pain. You were the patch on his wounds; the brightest spot in his life which dimmed the trauma and horrors. 
He’s so lost in those thoughts that he doesn’t immediately notice when his banging fist plummets through the air.
“Si?”
At your voice, Simon’s mind instantly clears. His eyes meet yours.
“Fucking finally,” he mutters, not letting a beat go by before he’s bending at the knees, wrapping his arms around your waist, and lifting you up. Instinctually, your arms snake around his neck, your legs circle his hips, and he feels his cock begin to swell from the reminder of how natural that action is for you. How right it is that you fit together like lock and key. 
Many questions are brewing in your eyes, but you don’t ask them. You kiss him instead, hard and thoroughly as he carries you into your apartment and kicks the door closed behind him. When he sits you atop your kitchen counter and settles himself between your spread legs, his hands go everywhere; under your sleep shirt, up the curves of your body to squeeze your breasts then back down to your hips. His palms slide around to your ass and jerk you closer so the center of those thin little shorts is pressed against the mound protruding from his jeans. 
Buttons scatter across the tile from his impatience, unwilling to delicately undo each tiny closure of your shirt. Your fingers trickle lower on his body to the belt buckle you quickly undo and the zipper you harshly yank down. He’s about to tell you to lift your hips, but you do so without his command, shimmying out of your shorts, and Simon takes the chance to do the same, pushing his pants just below his ass. He springs free, the heavy column of flesh landing at your navel. 
Leaning back, you guide his cock through the slickness of puffy lips into your tight, clenching walls. It sucks the air from his lungs. His head falls to your shoulder as you both try to breathe at a steady pace. His hands brace on the counter on either side of your body, nails digging into the granite. Home.
“Simon…baby, you have to move,” you pant. “I c-can’t take it.”
“I’ve got you,” he whispers in your ear before lifting his head and placing a quick peck on your mouth. Shifting his hips, he pulls out and then slowly eases himself back inside of you. His groan drowns out the sweet song of your moan. “I’ve got you, love.”
“Your neighbor still hates us, jus’ so you know,” Simon says as he slides under the sheets. Were he not so exhausted, he’d chuckle at the idea of being beside you in your bed and not immediately trying to fuck you, but after the kitchen counter, then the couch, then the living room floor, you’re both worn out and in need of a good night's sleep. “Probably more now than she did before.”
Normally, you would have found his words amusing, but you remain silent on your back, staring straight up at the ceiling. Simon raises a brow and flips onto his side. Then he sees the tear slip from the corner of your eye down to your ear. 
“What're you thinkin' about, love?” he asks as he places his hand on your cheek and turns your face toward his. 
“I'm scared,” you tell him. “I've missed you so much, but the second you leave, everything will go back to how it was without you. That broke me the first time, Si. How do I go through it all over again?”
His eyes pinch tight and he sighs in shame. He should have told you. It should have been the first thing out of his mouth, but then he saw you and he needed you and that was all that mattered in the moment. “Baby,” he begins, brushing the hair back from your face. “I'm not leaving you, and we are not goin’ back to that, ok?”
“But Johnny—”
“We don't need to worry about Johnny.”
Your eyes widen. “What? Why not?”
“Because, love,” Simon says, his hand finding the middle of your back and snuggling you into his chest, “Johnny sent me.”
@universitypenguin @ghostslittlegf
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nykie-love-anime · 13 days
Text
Ride, Cowgirl.
pairing: dbf!southern!frank castle x afab!reader
summary: neither of you can keep last night off your mind, needing more Frank finds comfort in your room.
warnings: age gap (reader is 22, frank is 52), use of pet names, dirty dirty thoughts!!!, mention of a divorced dad?, fingering, sex!!, praise kink asf, oral (f receiving), soft frank, reader calls him frankie accidentally, frank making noise in bed, riding like a cowgirl!!, bearded frank <3, no mentions of y/n, no descriptions of reader, not proofread
word count: 3514 words
author’s note: I’m in love with darlin’ and frank, they are simply the lomls currently. anyway, the end gives the perfect set up for a third part if it is desired!! In the meantime, it’s 1;30 am for me and I need sleep!! please enjoy &lt;3
read the first part cowgirl ! and the next part cowboy hats !
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Boyfriend by COIN played on the speaker your dad, conveniently, left outside as you laid on one of the pool loungers.  Thoughts of Frank consuming your mind, thoughts of his hands and his voice and the way he smelled and how he looked pain that he couldn’t fuck you in the backseat of his truck. Your fingers finding themselves rubbing the side of your neck, the very spot Frank had found comfort. 
“So how did last night go?” Tiff asked, hanging over the side of the pool to look at you. Your heart raced, did she find out? How would she? Did you accidentally call her when you were panting his name like it was the only word you knew? The way you froze as she asked a simple question, immediately made her suspicious of you.
“Huh?” You asked, in hopes of getting her to elaborate just a bit so you could come up with the lie of your life. Or maybe, you should confide in her. She is your girl for life, it’s not like she’s gonna judge you for doing it. If anything, she’d praise you and beg for details.
“After I left? How did the rest of the night go? Your dad doesn’t have the most interesting friends on the planet. All they talk about is work and their lack of wives.” She rolled her eyes, laying her head on her hands and kicking her legs in the water. 
“Actually…” You smiled, bringing your knees up to your chest to hide behind them as the blush spread across your body.
“Oh. My. God. Hold on!” She rushed to climb out of the pool, dripping water all over you as she sat on the opposite end of the lounger. If gossiping was a team sport, the two of you would have ten gold medals, if anyone asked you weren’t necessarily talking shit but simply saying how you felt about people.
“So, after you left, Frank and I went to the gas station and I asked if he had been with anyone younger. I don’t know what got into me, Tiff! He just looked so…godly. I wanted to jump his bones the second I came downstairs from changing.” You covered your face with your hands and groaned, the blush was probably becoming permanent at this point. You were going to be bright red for the rest of your life.
“Your dad’s best friend?! Holy shit dude. C’mon spill!” She laughed, prying the hands off your face and sitting expectantly. You were beyond grateful for the fact she wasn’t judging you and was actually interested. Maybe that was a bad thing, you didn’t care.
“Anyway, he said ‘Not yet’ and I was in shock or something! So, I reached over and kinda did a weird caress thing to his beard. I was flyin’ by the seat of my swimsuit, I’ve never been with a man who has any sort of facial hair. But he kissed me, and I mean like Really kissed me.i’ve never been kissed like that before, Tiff. Mind blowing.” Unbeknownst to you, the very man you were speaking about had walked out the back door and could hear the whole conversation. His chest swelled with pride, in some fucked up way he was glad no one had ever kissed you like that. It meant there was a lot more he could do way better than any of the other people you’d been with, and he’d be damned if he didn’t ruin you for any other man out there.
“Your dad is about to come out here, suggest you find somethin’ else to talk ‘bout.” He hollered at the two of you, your head whipping around so fast it was a miracle you didn’t give yourself whiplash, chuckling at the way your eyes widened when you realized he had heard you talking about him. “Quit speakin’ so damn loud anyway, sure the whole neighborhood heard.”
Frank didn’t truly mean what he said, he would love to listen to you retell the story of your escapades, what he didn’t want was your father to hear and put two and two together. He didn’t need to get into some shitty mess with the one constant in his life, he owed more to your dad than he cared to admit and ruining that friendship would send Frank to an early grave. That in no way meant he regretted what he did last night, and everything else he planned to do. He simply wanted to go about all this in a way that wouldn’t cost him his friendship but still gives him his girl, gives him you. He prayed for the first time last night, and he really truly prayed, for a situation where it all works out and he’s not back to square one. With nobody. Again. 
“Thanks for the warning, Mr. Castle.” Tiff shouted back, a smug smile playing on her face, giving him a small wave. She nudged your shoulders, giggling at the whole situation. All you wanted to do was shrink and disappear, you couldn’t be more embarrassed. You felt small and helpless, your best friend thought it was hilarious. God if you can hear me, please kill me.
You spent the whole morning thinking about him and the consequence of what you did, how would your next interaction go? Would it be weird? Would he pretend it never happened, that he wasn’t dying to have you right then and there. Yet, here you were no true interaction but you were the one cowering away from it. You were the one trying to pretend like it didn’t happen, when truthfully you wanted to shout it from the rooftops and let everyone know who had given you the best orgasm of your life.
“I’m going to shrink to the size of ant and drown myself in the fuckin’ pool, Tiff. I swear to god.” You slouched as far down in the lounger as you could, squeezing your eyes closed in some desperate attempt to make it all disappear. “Of course he would be here right now.”
“Ants don’t have lungs, they can’t technically drown. Besides, it’s not like he came out here and murdered you, all he did was tell you to be quieter. He also made no indication or mention of last night, so stop lettin’ that pretty head of yours go wild.” Tiff rubbed her hand soothing up and down your arm, she knew better than anyone the way your mind would take someone breathing at you and interpret it as they hate you and want you dead. That’s why she worked so well with you, the sane and grounded to your wild and anxious. 
“I don’t think it would matter even if he did, the principle of it all is what’s causing my worries. Do you think worry dolls are still a thing? I could most definitely use one right now.” A groan once again left your mouth, your eyes opening and searching for the older man who was carrying planks of wood across your backyard. Your father walked out of the house, giving you and Tiff a wave before hollering at Frank about whatever they were building.
The whispers and giggles coming from the two of you were intriguing Frank, he wanted to know exactly what you were telling her and what you were intentionally leaving out. He wanted to know if you were even talking about him, or if she was telling you the real reason that I just left abruptly last night. Because he knew, he wouldn’t say anything to you about it unless you brought it up first, but he knew. The work in front of him was becoming increasingly less interesting, he was so close to telling your dad to throw in the towel and call it a day. He didn’t even know what he was building anymore, he truthfully didn’t care but your dad did. That was enough for him to keep going.
“Those two have been out all day, shockin’ they’re not burnt or nothin’.” Your dad commented, planting his shovel in the ground and leaning against it. He smiled your way, not that you noticed as you were preoccupied with Tiff. You were his pride and joy, his baby. He’d murder anyone for you, it was a part of the reason you never brought anyone home. 
“‘M not shocked. Last summer, I’m not sure either one of em spent any more than twenty minutes inside. Make sure she- they wear sunscreen, don’t need em getting skin cancer.” Frank was quick to correct himself, not that your dad would’ve found anything wrong with his original statement but he was covering all his bases. Not that he didn’t care for the other girl, Tiff was her name? He didn’t need to know her name, not when he knew yours. 
“I’ll make sure to pick some up from the store the next time we make it to the grocery, I know my girl wears some. Not sure ‘bout her friend.” His girl. The words made Frank irrationally angry, you were his daughter but the thought of someone else staking claim over you drove him mad. One night with you and he was acting, and thinking, like you were his wife. Wife. No.
Frank had met your father when you were nineteen, hadn’t met you until you were twenty. It wasn’t like he was truly doing anything wrong but he was going to fight a never ending mental battle about you. Going through every hoop to tell himself neither of you was doing anything wrong, that you weren’t going to be in trouble for your actions. That it was, simply, okay.
The sun was setting, the breeze taking over and raising the hair on your skin. You truly had been outside all day, with sunscreen reapplied every hour or so, you were bound to find a few sunburnt spots in your shower. You exchanged goodbyes with Tiff and made your way to your room to start the nightly routine you had adopted since being home, switching the bluetooth from the speaker outside to the one inside your room. You opened the window, your music slowly starting to dance with the breeze, when a soft knock on your door grabbed your attention.
“Hey cowgirl.” Frank whispered, just barely loud enough to be heard over your music, making his way into your room and studying it. Committing all the bits and pieces of it to his memory.
“I’m so sorry about earlier, if you don’t want me to tell Tiff anymore I won’t. I just, I tell her everything and I needed to tell someone.” Your cheeks slowly started turning pink, Frank thought you were cute like that.
“Don’t apologize, darlin’. I didn’t care, just warnin’ ya ‘bout your dad is all.” He walked closer to you, his height very apparent, your head the perfect height for his chest. He brought a finger up to your cheek, dragging it down before tucking your hair behind your ear. 
“I appreciate it, I know how much he means to you.” No you didn’t. He knew you knew a small bit not enough to truly understand what the two of you meant to him. He would be forever indebted to your father if it meant keeping you, if it meant holding you and kissing you. Consuming himself with you.
“So pretty.” He truly whispered, admiring every inch of your face, leaning down to kiss you. Your heart stopped, he didn’t regret it? He thought you were pretty?
You decided to stop fucking thinking for once and enjoy it, leaning up to meet him halfway in the kiss. Threading your fingers through his hair, much like he did with yours in his truck. One his hands held the side of your face while the other tucked itself into the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms, rubbing at the indentation it left from being worn all day. 
“Ready to ride, cowgirl?” He asked, pulling away from the kiss enough to nip at your jaw as he waited for an answer. He wouldn’t be mad if you said no, he would be patient and wait until you were, but he went home and fucked his hand like a horny teenage boy at the thought of you on top of him.
A whimper is all you managed to respond with, your mind momentarily thinking about your dad but was interrupted by the softness of your mattress touching your back. 
“Goddamn swimsuits, prancing around in practically nothing.” He remarked, still standing as he eyed your body. His finger snapped the strap of your bottoms, smirking at the sound before he dragged them down your legs. 
“What’s your favorite color?” You asked softly, making him burst into laughter. 
“For what?” He responded, controlling his laughter at the fact you would ask that right now. 
“So I can wear one that color the next time you’re over.” You smiled, looking up at him. Somehow he looked even prettier from this angle, if that was possible. 
“Uh, probably red.” He gave a bit of thought before responding, curious to know if you would actually be wearing a bikini the next time you saw him. At your house, anyway. 
He stashed the bikini bottoms in his back pocket, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles and getting down on his knees. Frank thanked all the heavens and the stars for the meal he was about to eat right before licking a stripe through your folds and sucking on your clit. The stimulation instinctively caused your thighs to close, causing him to force them back open and lay one arm across a leg with his hand splayed across your stomach.
He moaned.
He moaned.
Frank moaned, was he enjoying this as much as you were? Were there any downsides or faults to this man? 
He moved his mouth closer to your clit, paying almost all his attention to it as he inserted his middle finger slowly. A wanton moan making its way to his ears, he thought everything about you was pretty. If he wasn’t rock hard when he took your bottoms off, he definitely was now. The stretch in his jeans was not entirely comfortable, it truthfully wouldn’t be able to accommodate much more. 
“Frank, Frankie, please..” 
Did you just- did he imagine that? He’d never had anyone call him that before, but it sounded so damn good coming from your lips.
“What, pretty girl? Use your words for me. Tell Frankie what you need.” 
“‘M so close, please need more.” You whined, to him it even sounded a bit like you were going to cry. He’s bet his life savings you were a pretty crier, a pretty anything. He just wanted to look at you. Always.
All he wanted to do was pull out his phone and record the pleas and the moans coming from you, to listen to later if you were ever ripped from him and he didn’t get to experience this, experience you, ever again. If it weren’t for your fucking music. He was thankful for it, blocking your sounds from anyone in the house. He added his ring finger into the mix, relishing in the sound you made. You were his drug, he truly was addicted. He needed his next fix before this one was over. 
Moments after he sped up his fingers and added more pressure to your clit, your orgasm ripped through you. Body shaking, eyes rolling back. This was better than the one he gave you last night. You’d never be able to touch yourself ever again, not the way he did. You didn’t think anyone could ever compare now that Frank had touched you. 
By the time you came to, he had discarded his clothes and was on top of you. He pulled you into a kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip and groaning into your mouth when you let him in. His tongue explored every inch of your mouth while his fingers explored every inch of your body. 
“I don’t have a condom.” He confessed.
“Don’t care, on the pill. Frankie please, I need you inside of me right now. Need your cock, frankie..please.” The sound of you begging for him had his ego going through the roof, the fact that anyone could want or need him this bad was mind blowing. 
He rubbed his cock through your folds, kissing you a bit more before he pushed the tip in. Your mouth opening in a gasp. You knew he was big, you saw the imprint in the truck yesterday. But this was different, the stretch hurt in a delicious way that you needed more of. He waited a moment before pushing in a bit more, toying with your clit and peppering your face with kisses to distract you.
He bottomed out, you had never felt so full in your life. You swore he was in your stomach, taking rearranging your guts to a new level. He stayed still, letting you get used to his size. He didn’t want to hurt you, too much.
“Frankie move.” 
Your wish was his command. His thrusts started slowly, building up in speed as he went. It was at this point, you realized Frank Castle was not quiet in bed. He wasn’t necessarily loud either, but he was groaning in your ear. The grunts and the groans were spurring you on, your moans and whimpers were doing the same for it. It was a cycle, and if either of you had your way it would never end. 
“Sound so damn pretty. Makin’ all these noises for me, huh? My pretty girl, my girl.” He put all his weight on his forearms, lifting himself enough to look you in the eyes, his hair falling out of place and onto your face. He was gorgeous, especially like this. Raw. Vulnerable. Just for you. 
“Your girl, yours.” You babbled, too busy reeling in the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you. How his bare skin feels on yours. His voice praising you. Calling you pretty. 
“That’s right, such a good girl.” His praises continued, some of them too muffled for you to hear as he sucked on your collarbone. Or your neck. Any exposed skin he could get in his mouth. 
Without pulling out, he flipped the two of you over so you were on top. Riding him. Cowgirl. 
“C’mon cowgirl, ride me. You can do it baby.” He lifted your hips up and placed them back down to get you started, placing your hands on his chest for you.  He slipped one of your boobs out of the top, you were still wearing, and put your nipple in his mouth. Rolling the bud between his teeth, enjoying the new sounds he managed to get.
You placed your weight on your hands, positioning your legs right, and lifted back up. He was somehow even deeper than before, it was almost overwhelming. His pelvic bone was hitting your clit just right every time you came down, accompanied by his groans, you were a goner. You fell into his chest as you felt your second orgasm start to rip through you, your words slurred as you told him to use you. You were his to use. 
Frank had been close since he put you on top, his self control had been wearing a bit thin. He fucked you through your orgasm, pistioning up inside you like his life depended on it. 
“Where do you want it, c’mon baby where?” He grunted, gritting his teeth as he tried to hold his release off. It was getting increasingly harder when your cunt was gripping him like that.
“Inside.” Is all you muttered out, half aware of your choice. You’d deal with it later. 
Not a moment later he painted your inside white, cummimg with a low and long groan. Relaxing his head completely against your pillows, taking deep breaths. You crumpled against his chest, just resting for a moment as he was still inside you. This was the most relaxed you’d been in ages, at some point you drifted off to sleep. 
You were awoken by the feeling of Frank cleaning you up and putting a blanket on top of you, obviously you knew he couldn’t stay. It still hurt. It hurt your heart, your soul, your everything. 
“Gotta go, pretty girl. I put my number in your phone. We’ll talk later.” His last sentence meant more than just texting you, you both knew it. At some point, lines had to be drawn or you had to fess up to your dad. But for now you’d live in delusion, in a world where you were in an established relationship and no one thought anything of it. He placed a kiss on your forehead, finished getting dressed and got up to leave. Stopping at the door he turned around to give you one last glance, you had already fallen back asleep. His cowgirl.
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nykie-love-anime · 16 days
Text
Team Spirit NSFW (Nekoma VBC x Reader)
You are Nekoma's beloved manager, giving your best to encourage and help your team. You've only been in this position for a couple of months, starting once you got into the second year of high school. 
You were in the same class as Kenma. Sitting next to him all throughout the first year has gotten him to open up to you, you share the addiction of games, so that's what you would mostly talk about. When he once mentioned that he was a part of the VBC, you told him that you've been playing until the last year of middle school. 
So when the Coach agreed on getting a manager, Kenma didn't hesitate to ask you to join Nekomas VBC. His teammates were watching him wide-eyed when he made his way to the sports hall, bringing you along. Never seeing him with a girl, what shocked them, even more, was that he was fully engaged in a conversation with you - telling you about his newest game. 
There were not many others who showed up for the position of the manager. Coach Nekomata chose you, thinking that you'd be a good fit. You got along with every one of them, you had no struggle getting to know them as they were welcoming you with open arms - especially Yamamoto. 
You were currently at a training camp, doing your job and making sure that they'd stick to the rules. It was nighttime only a few minutes before curfew, you were on your way to their room. You could already hear them as you were walking through the halls. The ruckus quickly fell silent when you opened the door, glaring at them. Sending death glares to the captain, as he should be the one in charge.
Kuroo stood up and moved to the door, where you were standing with your arms crossed.
"Come on, guys, you're not little kids. Why do I have to remind you about curfew every single night?" There was a hint of annoyance in your voice.
"You know if you want to spend time with us, you could just tell us." smirking down at you and placing his arm over your shoulder, closing the door before moving back to where he was before - dragging you along.
"Kuroooo" dragging out his name and elbowing him, hoping that he'd let go of you, being too tired to keep up with his teasing.
The other team members were already used to the both of you annoying each other.
Kuroo flopped down onto his futon. Pulling your hips down, you were sitting on his lap, your back pressed against his chest. You tried to free yourself, failing when he wrapped his strong arms around your torso. Not wanting you to leave.
"Kuroo, what are you doing." You knew very well that once he'd start to tease you, he'd only stop once your a blushing mess.
Yaku being the angel he is, stood up and came over to help you. Trying to get you free from Kuroo's grip. However, when Kuroo wanted to adjust his hold on you, he accidentally moved one of his hands too high, squeezing your left boob. You let out a small moan, which seemed a lot louder as it echoed through the room. All eyes focused on you, your sweet sound switching something inside all of their brains.
No one dared to move, or speak, Kuroo's hand still cupping your breast. You were so embarrassed, feeling all the hungry eyes on you, you didn't dare to move. 
As Yamamoto was staring at Kuroo's hand, he was wishing he'd be the one you were sitting on. Even Kenma, who usually didn't seem to be interested in anything else than his games, was now watching you.
Wanting to take this further, Kuroo brushed your hair back, moving his head to your ear.
"(Y/N) you've been such a great manager, always taking care of us and giving your all." His voice was low, almost a whisper, but loud enough that everyone could hear him, "Let us pay you back, let us make you feel good."
Biting your earlobe in such a seductive way, making a shiver run down your spine as you felt a heat spread in your lower regions.
"K-Kuroo, you can't do that" Inuoka was interrupted him, he would love to touch as well. But it felt so wrong, he wanted to get you out of this situation. 
"You're right, I can't do that. But I will only stop if (Y/N) tells me to" You could feel him grin against your neck, that damned shit-eating grin he always has when he's so sure of himself. 
Kai and Yaku were telling him to stop, which seemed to fall on deaf ears as he was continuing his ministrations. 
His hands were moving over your body before resting them on your waist. You couldn't help yourself, being surrounded by your handsome team, your mind started to imagine all kinds of dirty thoughts. 
Your arousal getting the best out of you and letting Kuroo have his way with you. His mouth was close to your neck, before he kissed you, nibbling on your neck. Once again, drawing all the attention to yourself by letting out another moan. Making Kuroo chuckle against your neck, his hot breath leaving goosebumps all over your skin.
Although Yamamoto being usually outgoing and always trying to make a move on you, was silently watching you not daring to move. Feeling his pants getting tighter as his bulge was growing.
Lev was on the other side of the room, watching you with hungry eyes. Next to him was Shibayama, his cheeks flushed. He tried to avert his gaze, but his eyes moved back to you when more moans spilled over your lips.
You could feel something hard press against your ass, boldly grinding against it, earning a low growl from Kuroo. However, he quickly stopped your movements, his hands tightly holding your hips still.
"Tell us what you want" His voice demanding, not wanting to wait any longer.
His hand snaked its way to your front, resting it on top of your thigh. His hand slowly traveled up the inside of your thigh, before stopping between your leg. Gasping as you felt him stroke your clothed sex, you tried to speak up, but your mind was racing, you were mumbling incoherently.
Stoping his movements to give you a chance to respond, "Do you want us to make you feel good? Hmm...?" Purring into your ear. Some of the others were groaning at the show in front of them - their hands on their hardening members. 
"Y-Yes" Your voice barely audible. Lowering your gaze to the floor, embarrassed at your honesty. But you wanted this, feeling how wet you are from just this much. 
Not wanting Kuroo to have all the fun, Yaku moved closer, sinking to his knees in front of you. Locking eyes with you before he moved closer, startling you when his lips crushed against yours, greedily kissing you and biting your lower lip.
That was enough for the other guys, wanting to join in, they sat down around you. 
Still sitting on Kuroo's lap, with your back pressed against his chest, he was sucking and biting your neck. Continuing on rubbing your clit - which was sending shockwaves through your body.
However, once the realization hit you, being with this many guys, you tensed up. 
Sensing the sudden change, Kuroo spoke up.
"What's wrong, do you want us to stop?" His hand still working on your clothed sex. His other hand running up and down your arm, caressing it. Whispering into your ear, so that only you could hear him, "Don't worry, we won't hurt you." As if he could read your mind.
"No, I'm fine." Lightly shaking your head, this was your team. You knew that they'd never hurt you, you trusted them. 
Having your consent, they continued their ministrations.
In front of you was Yaku, who was kissing you with such passion, leaving you wanting more. Yamamoto was next to the latter, caressing your inner thigh.
To Yaku's other side was Kai, mirroring Yamamoto's movements.
Seated on either side of Kuroo, were Fukanaga and Inuoka, each cupping and squeezing one of your boobs. 
Groaning when the movements on your upper body stopped. When you realized that they stopped so that Yaku could take your shirt off, you lifted your arms, helping him to get rid off it.
Kuroo quickly unclasped your bra, watching from behind as it left your chest.
With your upper half naked, they continued their ministrations, hands, and lips all over your body - exploring it. 
There was so much going on, feeling overwhelmed you were letting out breathy moans. Your gaze falling on Kai when you heard him let out a low "fuck."
The three pairs of eyes in front of you were staring at the wet spot between your legs. Your eyes following theirs, biting your lower lip when you saw that you soaked through your sweatpants.
"Fuck, (Y/N)... Look how wet you are for us," Kai's eyes filled with desire. His wanton cock twitching. "Yaku, her pants, take them off."
Wanting them gone, happy to see his teammate swiftly pulling them off of you along with your underwear. 
He switched places with Yaku, who was growling at the loss of your plump lips on his.
"Why am I the only one naked?" Pouting, wanting to see their hot bodies.
Happy to oblige, they all quickly got rid of their clothes, Glad to free their cocks out of their tight confines. 
Looking around, admiring the sight in front of you, thinking you were in sex heaven. Some of them were already leaking precum, wetting your lips. You wanted to get a taste.
Looking back at Kai when he placed his hands on your hips, pulling you closer to him. You were now lying on the floor, partially on Kuroo's futon.
The others were quick to complain, at the loss of contact with your soft skin. The complaining quickly died down when they saw Kai spreading your legs, and dipping his head before teasingly running his tongue over your wet slit. Your moans filled the room, making the boys' cocks twitch.
Kai was now sucking on your clit, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud - your legs started to tremble.
"A-Ah, Kai please don't stop!" Looking at him with half-lidded eyes. 
Fukunaga and Inuoka both hovered above your sides before they lowered their heads. Each sucking on your nips, Inuoka was playfully biting down, you were gasping to the sensation of slight pain mixed with pleasure.
You lifted your arms, stroking their hardened lengths with a tight grip, both Inuoka and Fukunaga groaning loudly. Both inched closer towards you and were kneeling on either side of you.
Your eyes moved around the room, taking in that everyone was touching themselves some more eager than the others. Your eyes locking with Kenma's who was still in his boxer briefs, smirking at him when you saw his prominent bulge. 
You definitely we're not surprised that he'd be more into watching you from afar. On the other side was Shibayama, his hand firmly on his cock while watching you, too nervous to join.
Lev was on your other side, watching him work on his hardened length as his eyes roamed over your naked body.
Watching down between your legs, which were shaking at the feeling of Kai eating you out and lapping up your juices. You cried out when he pushed two fingers into your wet heat, moving them fast. 
This was enough to push you over the edge. You felt a heat spread through your whole body as your orgasm washed over you. Your entire body was shaking, not able to stop moaning.
Kai pulled back, watching your face contour in pleasure.
The sight of you coming undone, making those lewd sounds were enough for the boys. Hearing multiple moans and groans when some of them came soon after you; 
Yamamoto came with a loud groan, you noticed that he had your wet underwear around his cock, covering it with his cum.
At the same time as Yamamoto, you heard a loud gasp, signaling that Lev came as well. 
Inuoka and Fukunaga, came as you tightened your grip. Inuoka came with a loud grown, cumming into your hand as Fukunaga was a swearing mess, his hot seed shooting onto your breast and stomach. 
Lifting your hand, which was covered in Inuoka's cum up to your mouth. Cleaning it off with your mouth, sucking on your fingers as you moaned around your digits - enjoying the salty taste.
Yaku came at the sight of you sucking and licking the cum off your hand. His cum was partially on his hand and on the floor. Looking at you with pleading eyes, wanting you to clean off his hand - just like you did before.
Sitting up as Yaku was holding his cum-covered hand out for you. You wrap your fingers lightly around his wrist, you teasingly licked his hand clean. He started to moan when you began to suck on his fingers.
Pulling away when his hand was clean. You felt light-headed, knowing that this was only the start of tonight's adventure. 
"How bout putting that pretty mouth of yours to work?" Looking at Kai and nodding at him, as your lips turned into a smirk.
Getting on all fours as he was kneeling in front of you. You bring up one hand and lightly stroke him before licking up his length.
"Mhhh... Just like that." cupping your cheeks, his hand moved back, grasping a handful of hair. 
Taking him into your mouth, your tongue circled his tip before it teasingly flicked over his slit. Locking eyes with him as you were working on his length, sucking him off.
Your ass was up in the air - taking the opportunity Kuroo positioned himself at your entrance, thrusting into you in one swift motion.
You were moaning around Kai's length, who was pulling your hair. Feeling you moan around him, spurred him on. Thrusting into your mouth - saliva started to run down your neck. 
Fingers digging into your hips as Kuroo pounded into you, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust - the room started to spin as you were drowning in pleasure.
Kai was reaching his end, you could feel him throb inside of your mouth before his hot seed hit the back of your mouth, you swallowed it before he pulled away.
Kuroo's hands moved around to your front, lifting your upper half of the ground. Kneeling in front of him, your back pressed against his chest as he fucked into you at a brutal speed. Playing with your boobs, rolling and pinching your nips between his fingers. Licking, kissing, and biting your shoulder, trying to suppress his groans.
His cock was twitching inside you while he was cumming, the feeling was enough to send you over the edge, coming once more. Your body was trembling, loud moans escaped your mouth.
Resting against his chest, out of breath as you were recovering from your second high.
 
Feeling someone lightly run his fingers up and down your arms, you locked eyes with Lev, who was crouching in front of you. 
"Can I?" Wanting to have his way with you, needing feel you squirm beneath him.
Kuroo was sitting back, repositioning you. You were laying on the floor as your upper half was resting on Kuroo's lap, you had your arms around his legs, holding onto the outsides of his tighs. 
Lev stroke himself, before getting between your legs, and pushing his tip slowly inside.
Once he was buried inside you, he picked up his pace. You were moaning as you felt his long cock hit your cervix with every thrust. Your tight cunt was squeezing his cock, making him twitch. As he was thrusting into you at a higher speed, Kuroo softly stroked your hair and praising you.
"Good girl, taking all of our cocks." His thumb tracing your bottom lip, you parted your lips. Your tongue sliding over his thumb, looking at you with wanton eyes when you started to suck on his digit. 
Your eyes fell upon Yamamoto, who was hard once again, stroking his cock and watching you. Biting your lower lip as you were enjoying the view. 
"Yamamoto" mumbling his name, signaling him to come closer.
Moving to your left side, you moved your hand over his hard length, earning low moans from him. 
"Don't stop (Y/N)!" panting as he was relishing the way your hand feels around his cock. 
Hearing the others' moans and pants as they were touching themselves, was riling you up. 
Lev, still pounding into you. His thrusts becoming sloppy as your orgasm washed over the both of you, you were crying out in pleasure, your voice raw. Your nails digging into Kuroo's tighs. 
Lev pulled out of you, admiring your body before sitting down, to recover from his high.
Your body was tired from being overstimulated. But you didn't want to stop, you needed more. 
"Can you go for a little bit longer (Y/N)?" Kuroo was looking down, his pupils blown, filled with lust.
"Y-yes" Nodding at him, with the same look in your eyes. 
Helping you sit up when Yaku laid down on the futon next to you, taking the hint you straddled his lap, sinking down onto his hard cock. Moaning as he was stretching you. 
Shibayama finally dared to come closer. Standing at your left side as Kuroo stood to your right. 
The others watching you as you were riding Yaku, at a slow, steady pace. He was moaning underneath you, his hands teasingly brushing over your thighs.
You were working Shibayama's cock with your hand while sliding your tongue over Kuroo's hard length. Taking him into your mouth, you tease his tip, circling it with your wet muscle.
Kuroo was moaning loudly, praising you while staring into your eyes.
Needing more, Yaku thrusts up into you, your moans muffled by Kuroo's cock. 
It didn't take long for Shibayama to come, you could feel him twitch as you were jerking him off, his breath hitched as he was pushed over the edge. His cum now covering your hand and running down your wrist. Shibayama, flopped onto one of the futons that wear spread across the floor.
Pulling off of Kuroo with a pop sound, who was growling at you in return. Teasingly looking up at him as your tongue was sliding over the skin of your wrist, lapping up Shibayama's cum.
Kuroo's eyes darkened at the show you were giving him. Grabbing a fistful of your hair and tilting your head to give him a better angle. He pushed himself inside, fucking your mouth and groaning at the feeling of your moans around his length.
"(YN) you feel so good around my cock!" Kuroo's voice sinfully raw.
Yaku was watching his cock disappear into your wet cunt. Pushing harder into you - your juices coating his cock as lewd wet sounds filled the room. Your eyes welled up with tears as you were gagging around Kuroo's cock as he was fucking your mouth at a relentless speed. Desperately chasing after his release.
Fukanaga was sitting on his futon, watching you and moving his hands over his hard cock.
Inuoka, who was sitting near the latter, just came down from his high, catching his breath and watching the scandalous scene in front of him.
Yamamoto was on his own futon, he already came twice tonight, somehow he felt himself getting hard again, watching you.
Kai was standing close to you, cursing and panting while jerking off.
Shibayama and Lev were on their futons, both just watching you with their mouths agape.
Kenma was still in his boxer briefs, he was the only one who didn't had an orgasm. However, his cock was twitching inside of his confines as he was palming his bulge. He couldn't take his eyes off of you the whole night, watching you as you took one after the other.
Kuroo's hold tightened, groaning and cursing as he pulled your hair when his orgasm crashed down on him. Spurting his seed into your mouth, softly moaning when he felt you swallow around him.
"F-Fuck, (Y/N)" Yaku's thrusts became sloppy, slamming up into you.
Feeling the tight knot snap once again, you drownd in pleasure. Crying out as your orgasm washed over you, you collapsed on his chest. Your body was shaking and twitching. Feeling your walls clamp around him, sent Yaku over the edge, groaning your name as he came - painting your insides white.
The two of you were still laying on the ground, your head resting against his chest, you could hear his heart pounding.
Your eyes move across the room, noting that the others looked as bad as you. Everyone was a sweating, panting mess - the smell of sweat, cum, and your arousal filled up the small room. Your eyes locking with Kenma's, wanting to change his composed and reserved self, only for tonight, you sat up, feeling Yaku's softening cock slip out of you. 
You got off of him and seductively moved on all fours towards the only one who was left with a hard one. 
"K-Kenma" your voice hoarse. Looking at his bulge, which he was still palming through his underwear. His eyes widened as he watched you coming closer, blushing when he realized what you wanted.
Driven by lust and desire, you moved closer before coming to a halt. Only now that you were this close, you could see the hint of arousal and passion in his eyes.
You were seated in front of him, your hands lightly traveling up the sides of his arms, earning soft moans from Kenma. You tangled your hands in his hair, bringing his head closer before kissing him deeply. You pulled back, moving your head to his ear, he tensed up at the feeling of your hot breath against his ear.
"I want you" your voice only a whisper - he was the only one who heard you. Tilting your head and grazing your teeth teasingly down his neck, nibbling and sucking at one particular spot, leaving a mark on him.
You untangled one of your hands, grazing your nails down his chest and torso. Stopping when you reached the waistband of his underwear. Slipping your hand inside, he gasped loudly when your fingers wrapped around his hard cock.
Firmly holding him, using his precum as lube as you were stroking him.
The rest of the group watching you, surprised to see Kenma seemingly enjoy something besides the usual.
Smirking against his neck when you feel his hands exploring your body.
Cupping each of your boobs, playing with them before rolling your nips between his fingers. Moaning against his skin, before pulling your mouth off of him and looking into his eyes. 
Both of you a blushing mess, you tightened your grip around him and pulled his hard length out of its confines. Moving closer, you straddled his lap before sinking down onto him. His hands moved to your waist, fingers digging into your flesh.
Once he was buried inside you, you started to move - you could feel the fire spread through your lower regions. He hit the sweet spot every time you grounded against him.
Locking eyes, he lifted his left hand and cupped your cheek, his thumb grazing over before bringing your head closer, "Ngh, you feel so good" breathing against your lips.
His lips brushed against yours, kissing you slow and gentle before catching your lower lip between his teeth, nibbling on it, then sliding his tongue into your mouth.
The others watched the two of you intently, not wanting to miss anything.
You slammed your hips down against his. His fingers dipping even deeper into the skin of your waist. Picking up your pace, you were moaning into each others mouths, you could feel him pulsing inside you. Your body started to tremble as you were coming closer to your end. Your hands found their way back to his damp hair, raking your nails over his scalp, which made him bite down harshly on your lower lip. 
Your orgasm crashed over you, throwing your head back and letting out loud moans. Kenma soon followed you over the edge, chanting your name as he came inside of you, your clenching walls were milking his cock before it softened and slipped out of you. 
He reached his arms around your waist, supporting you as you were trying to catch your breath. Your body was still trembling, your legs felt like jelly. By the time you finished, all of the other team members had found their way back to their futons.
 
Getting off of his lap, you flopped down between him and Kuroo, who was watching you with a smirk on his face.
As all of you were processing what just happened, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. This was better than anything you've ever imagined. Inconspicuously pinching your arm, making sure that this isn't just a dream.
"Well, I guess you could call this strengthening the team spirit." Kuroo stated, with his shit-eating grin, playfully rolling your eyes at him.
He continued, "But you know, that's not done in one go, so this better won't be the first and last time we do this."
The others were quick to agree to the captain's statement, not wanting this to be the last time they had some quality time with their manager.
You agreed, "Looking forward to the next time!" you couldn't help but chuckle.
Kuroo pulled you closer until you were entirely on his futon, draping his blanket over the both of you. 
"You really are the best manager." Jokingly whispering to you, lightly punching his chest in response. 
It didn't take long for all of you to fall asleep as exhaustion washed over you.
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