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taegimood · 4 months

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— bestfriend!ot5’s reaction to you offering to help with their boner ♡

pairing: ot5 x fem!reader (separate) rating: nsfw, mdni wc: almost 3k oops 😭 warnings: some smut (oral obviously, m receiving), suggestiveness, perviness, pet names (babe, sweetheart, pretty girl), tiniest but brief bit of angst in tyun’s, some alcohol in jun’s, beomgyu being an annoying brat lmao

a/n - this took me forever to start (and to finish.. all in one sitting rip my eyeballs) but i loved writing this omg who wants a pt 2 follow-up 🫢

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yeonjun: this is the moment he’s been waiting for, y’all

it’s just like any other tipsy late-night shit-talk sesh on yeonjun’s living room floor, until it’s not. you’ve been lazily sitting against the foot of his couch facing each other while joking about beomgyu’s latest failure to get laid when somehow the conversation turns to your own personal sex lives. it’s not like you’ve never talked about that stuff with jun before; you’re best friends, after all. but something about tonight feels different. maybe it’s because you’ve been drinking, maybe it’s because the dim lighting of his living room is giving it a strangely sensual vibe, or maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you- facing you with his chin in his hand as his elbow rests up on the couch cushion, eyes more lidded than usual and sculpted collarbone peeking out from the sweater that at some point had slipped down his shoulder- but when the topic turns to your experiences with oral and he’s in the middle of complaining about how his last fling always gave him the worst head, what comes out of your mouth as you suddenly interrupt him is a shock to the both of you.

“i could do better.”

yeonjun’s eyebrows shoot up. the words had died on his lips. your own eyes are wide as you freeze, before fidgeting nervously, attempting damage control. “i mean.. from what i’ve been told. just saying.” you swallow hard as you inwardly kick yourself, avoiding his eyes and his silence as you bring the bottle of soju you’d been sharing to your lips in an attempt to feign casualty.

“is that an offer?”

it’s your turn to be speechless, nearly choking as you set the bottle down a little too hard, turning quickly to stare at him in shock; oh, he’s not joking. he watches you expectantly, a level expression on his face; though if you were to blink, you’d miss the smirk that his lips were threatening to inch up into. when your gaze flickers down to see the tent in his sweatpants that he hasn’t even bothered trying to cover, you swallow hard. the tiny crush you’ve always harbored for your best friend suddenly seems not so unreciprocated after all. you collect yourself. you’ve gotta be cool about this.

“well… do you want it to be?��

your best friend’s hands wrapped in your hair and his shameless moans filling the room as he pumps his cock in and out of your throat isn’t exactly how you imagined the night to go, but here you are! you can already tell from the lewd promises and filthy praises that he’s groaning out as you swallow around him — your legs will definitely be sore in the morning. <3

soobin: soobin.exe has stopped working

he didn’t mean for you to see, he really didn’t. you weren’t supposed to be home for another 15 minutes; what else was he supposed to do when it’s the first time all week that his hermit of a roommate has finally left their shared apartment and he hasn’t been able to comfortably get himself off since last weekend?

your convenience store run ended in disappointment as the tuna gimbap roll you were craving turned up empty on the shelves. with a grumble you had just grabbed the nearest container of ramen and a snack for soobin before trekking back to your apartment sooner than hoped for (by either party..), not in the mood to sit there and eat as you’d originally planned; but unbeknownst to you, soobin hadn’t heard you arrive back home, and also unbeknownst to you, he was stuck in a very… compromising position.

“soob, they didn’t have the- oh, fuck.”

rounding the corner into the living room to see your best friend seated on the couch with his sweatpants shoved down around his hips and his head thrown back as his hand fists up and down his very hard - very big cock - was definitely not on your daily bingo card. (or your lifetime one either, to be quite frank.) at the sound of your voice he’s acting faster than you’ve ever seen him move, a pillow shoved over his lap and his large figure smushed back into the couch cushions so quick that you question whether you even saw his cock at all, or if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. you decide that it wasn’t the latter, however, at the sight of his bright red face and quick, heavy breaths- a deer in headlights as his mouth opens and closes for a few moments, trying to find the words to speak.

you’re in the same boat — what are you supposed to say? hey, sorry that i caught you trying to get yourself off in our shared space that i also own which you’re very much aware of? and by the way your cock is the most beautiful thing i’ve ever seen and i want it in my-

wait, what? you don’t even have time to process the sudden warmth between your thighs as soobin finally finds his words. well, kind of. “i-i’m so sorry, i swear i didn’t- i was just trying to- i thought you’d still be a while, i- it’s been so long since i-“ he cut himself off at the last part, an even deeper blush coming over his cheeks at his accidental admission. wonderful, now she’s gonna think i’m some sort of incel. but the last thing that either of you ever expects is happening as you step forward carefully, approaching his shocked form on the couch before stopping to maintain some distance.

“soob.. do you want help?”

let’s just say that his best friend slotted between his thighs as she bobs her head up and down his fat cock with eager moans and a mix of spit and pre-cum lewdly dribbling down her chin wasn’t exactly on soobin’s bingo card, either. but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t pay you back for it right after. <3

beomgyu: *laughs in your face* 👁️👄👁️ switch-up

um, did he hear that right?? it was an innocent instance of you utterly roasting each other into the grave with bullying remarks, just another tuesday for the pair of you- you’re just sitting on your bed in your usual criss-cross legged gossip-time position when beomgyu apparently decides that he’s bored laughing at something soobin did and chooses you as the better candidate to laugh at instead. the plushie of yours that he’d had resting in his lap is now a method of defense as you attempt to thwap him over the head with your own plushie, yelling at him to “take it back!” as he cackles mercilessly after claiming “at least soobin can get bitches if he stops being shy enough, you’re just an all-around lost cause.”

“you don’t even know what you’re talking about!!!” you whine as you finally manage to knock him onto his back, going in for the kill as your leg swings over one of his, your plushie smushing down into his face as his now-muffled giggles still ring out annoying as ever. “i get bitches too!” you defend yourself, although even your own words immediately cause you to cringe; damn, you really do sound like a loser, huh? but your momentary lapse of attention has beomgyu knocking your plushie away, laughing even louder as he responds “that is EXACTLY what someone who can’t get bitches would say.” you groan and smack his chest, rolling your eyes as he cradles himself dramatically. “you’re literally wrong. i’ve dated before! like once. and there was that other guy from the smoothie place last year.. we, like, hung out a few times.” but you’re mumbling now, pathetic to your own ears as beomgyu’s shit-eating grin grows with each word.

“you’re kinda proving my point, here, babe.” you shiver at the pet name, however condescending his tone may be. god, how is he still so attractive even when you want to strangle the fuck out of him? “you’re so cocky,” you complain with another roll of your eyes, an attempt to both distract yourself from beomgyu and distract beomgyu from the humiliating topic. he sits up to lean back on his hands as it’s clear you’re finished with your little murder attempt. “yeah, cuz of my monster cock.. that can get bitches.”

that’s it. the sudden urge to prove yourself to him overtakes you as you snap back, “i bet your ‘monster cock’ has never even seen head as good as what i can give.” another laugh— until he realizes you’re serious. the smile falls right off of his face. you don’t miss the way his fists clench around the blanket he’s leaning back on; or the slight strain in his voice as he answers, voice suddenly low and almost breathless- “yeah?”

you were right; beomgyu’s cock has never gotten head as good as what you’re giving him right now as your throat bottoms out with a filthy gag, no hesitation when you lift off with a pop before sucking on him hard enough to send his head reeling. you know what.. maybe beomgyu wouldn’t mind being proved wrong more often after all. but of course, he has to prove himself to you now, too. <3

taehyun: “if… you want to” he definitely wants to

taehyun was stressed. that was clear to anybody; the recent storm closing the businesses down for the week, including the local gym, and his own job that he of course relied on to pay rent. you had been over at his apartment when the weather took a turn for the worse; so now here you were, snowed in with no where to go, forced to work from taehyun’s computer, eat his food, and wear his clothes. (the latter of which neither of you would admit to being turned on by. …….yet.) taehyun was doing his best to work out from home with what little equipment he had, although he wasn’t able to do much, which frustrated him to no end — not as much because he was a gym rat, but more because it was his primary stress reliever. so today it doesn’t help, of course, that his pretty best friend is currently sat at his desk in one of his baggy sweatshirts and a pair of sweatpants that she had to roll 6 times to fit her little legs.

he didn’t mean to snap at you. when you accidentally knocked his extra monitor off the desk and onto the floor, cracking the screen, it was just because you turned around too fast— you were excited to see him :(— but it’s the last straw of the day for taehyun. he can’t work out properly, his job isn’t paying him during the off-time, he’s had a constant boner from you hanging around in his clothes all week, and now- now he’ll need to go get his stupid monitor fixed once the weather clears up. “shit, tae, i’m so sorry-“

“god, why are you so fucking clumsy, y/n?”

the silence causes instant realization as his eyes snap up to meet your wide, now-watery ones. “i’m.. i’m sorry..” you whisper, and immediately he wants to punch himself. “fuck,” he groans as he shakes his head, coming to kneel down in front of the chair you were still sitting in. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to snap at you like that. you’re not clumsy. i know it was an accident, please don’t cry.. i’ll pay for the monitor. it wasn’t your fault.” he’s murmuring while he soothes his hand up and down your arm. you’re shaking your head as you wipe at your eyes. “no, no, it’s okay; i know you didn’t mean to snap. i’m still sorry though. let me help pay for it…. i know you’ve been stressed, tyunnie.” you say the last part quieter, gentler as you meet his eyes. he hates that his cock twitches in his pants at something so innocent; but what you say next makes him feel much better about his own perverted thoughts.

you’re nervous about your next words. you really hope you’ve been reading the room right this last week. “let me help you..?”

his eyes widen, before he quickly recovers in an attempt to keep a level expression. “help.. me?” do you mean what he thinks you mean??? “the weather still sucks. there’s not much you can do, sweetheart.” he chuckles, testing the waters with a pet name as he studies your face carefully for a reaction. his eyes flicker down and quickly back up when your thighs squeeze together marginally in response. a-ha. “no, tyun… let me help you here.” you whisper with a soft, testing touch to the band of his sweatpants. oh, so you definitely mean what he thinks you mean.

who really needs the gym or your own closet after all, when you look so pretty on your knees for him with his cock down your throat as he calls you his pretty girl and promises to fuck you so good later just like you deserve? not the two of you, apparently. <3

huening kai: *spits out his drink* coughing fit

kai wasn’t kidding when he told you that he might be too busy to hang out if you came over, although this wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. when you headed over to his apartment you figured he was caught up studying for some big exam or something of the like; what you didn’t think you’d find was him yelling into his headset at beomgyu as his fingers flew over the buttons of his controller, leaning forward in his seat with crazy eyes and 3 open cans of energy drinks next to the screen. you sigh. “kai, really? this is what you meant by ‘too busy’..?” he jumps slightly at the sudden sound of your voice in his room, but doesn’t turn around. “y/n! yeah, sorry- i’m just in the middle of- FUCKING MOVE, BEOMGYU! of a tournament right now, been trying to rank up for hours- BEOMGYU!!!”

you wince at the intermittent screaming, plopping down on his bed to watch as you hear gyu’s protests of self-defense piercing through your best friend’s headset. “i think you’ll need a hearing aid after this..” you mumble, receiving no response as expected. however, you get bored after scrolling through your phone for a while, sulking shamelessly at the lack of attention you were receiving — although you were warned that if you came over he might not have any to give. you sigh, but you understand; these tournaments are important to hyuka, even if you couldn’t care less about them yourself. don’t get me wrong, you love gaming too, especially with your friends— especially with kai — but you weren’t exactly as obsessed as they were when it came to being the biggest legend in this group of - you squint - 100 players that this world has ever seen.

selfishly, you had almost even hoped for more from this evening… you’ve been trying to drop hints lately at your feelings for kai, although your level of success was yet to be determined. this would be the first instance all week that you’d have some alone time together; despite his claim to busyness, you still figured you’d try your luck by coming over. you eye the 3 energy drinks and his bouncing legs with a chuckle. what are my options here? hmm.. you’d worn some particularly short shorts tonight, knowing he’d definitely notice the plushness of your thighs.. experimentally, you stand up and approach his desk, standing next to it so he’d be able to see you if he shifted his eyes to the right. “hyuka, want me to get you some water? i don’t think you need any more of these.” you fiddle with one of the cans on his desk. he hums distractedly in response; you can tell he hadn’t heard what you said. “hyuka..” this time you reach out to card your fingers through his hair, effectively causing his fixed stare to snap briefly over to you in surprise; ‘briefly’ turning into a momentary distraction as his gaze catches onto your shorts, flitting back and forth between the screen and your soft thighs. “h-huh?”

“some water?” you repeat innocently. “o-oh, uh, yeah..”

when you come back, to say you’re shocked is an understatement as the bulge in his shorts has seemingly popped up out of no where, and the bright pink blush on his cheeks tells you he knows it, too. you don’t realize you’re standing there staring at it with the glass of water still in your hand until kai quickly mutes his mic, eyes still glued to the screen as he groans “i’m so sorry y/n, please don’t think i’m gross, i- i had no time to grab a pillow, we’re in the middle of a battle and my score is-“ wordlessly, you’re sinking to your knees and situating yourself beneath the desk. his bouncing legs freeze. “what- fuck, w-what are you-“

“can i help you? you can keep playing your game,” you ask sweetly. the sight of your innocent eyes blinking up at him nearly has him cumming in his shorts then and there as he breathes out, “fuck- are you sure?”

you definitely show him how sure you are as you worship his cock with your throat, all sloppy and wet, making sure his mic stays muted so beomgyu can’t hear the way you’re making him whine and moan as he bucks his hips up into your mouth the best he can. now just wait until his tournament is over and he has you all to himself. <3

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pseudowho · 9 days

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Domestic Bliss: Nanami Kento #1, Rant

It was your evening routine, now. Kento was decompressing from work. You sat back and listened, rubbing your temples with your fingertips. He paced around the kitchen, clattering pans, crushing garlic, ranting.

"--introduced a new merge lane near Ginza. No advance warning of course. 'Traffic committee', are they? Bunch of clowns--"

The pan started sizzling, with mellowsoft aromas filling the house.

"--filing under category 1.1 instead of category 1.2, so I went back and did the whole thing again. Wouldn't happen if we switched over to e-copies--"

Two steaks flung with force, ejecting garlic cloves from the pan, to skitter away across the hob. Kento tutted at the garlic, picking them up and flinging them back in, too hard, to hop out of the pan again and he growled at the garlic now--

"--convenience store stopped the black pepper focaccia, people obviously have no taste, want sweet bread instead like they're fucking children--"

You were about to snap, you swore to God--

"--honestly I'd rather see a bunch of dogs in dinner jackets stand for election--"

You stood, clapping your hands once, sharply, and Kento jumped, looking at you mulishly as he flipped the steaks; "Enough! Fucking hell, Old-Man-Shouts-At-Moon, are you quite finished?"

Kento was silent for a moment, offended. As you poured the wine, simmering under his premature middle-aged grump, you heard a mollified little grumble above the sizzle of dinner.

"...any way to talk to your husband?...just having a conversation--"

"Be quiet and drink your wine before I bite you, Kento."

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229zmi · 2 months

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MY HEART, IT BEATS FOR YOU

Nagi Seishirō/Reader | 1.0k words, fluff, jealous nagi

Nagi, generally, is an apathetic person.

Yet somehow, there’s a taut feeling that twists its way through the gaps of his ribcage, stretching around his heart as his eyes linger on the fabric that hangs around your shoulders. Seeing you on the couch, casually scrolling on your phone while wearing a jacket he can’t recognise as yours or, even better, his as much as he wants to — the sight elicits something that’s not quite a painful feeling, but it isn’t exactly pleasant either, he thinks.

The wheels are still turning in his head when you finally acknowledge his presence with a smile, oblivious to the way he’s not even looking at you when you tell him, “Hey, Sei.”

Instead, he trudges over to you with the same passion as that of a sloth, and his voice comes out small, almost as if that same feeling in his chest has crawled past his shoulder to constrict his throat.

“That jacket— it’s not yours, is it?” It’s plain and simple, the way he states the observation, yet laced with the most marginal hint of spite.

“No, it’s Reo’s,” you confirm without missing a beat, and he narrows his eyes, so subtly that you don’t even catch it. You continue on about how you bumped into Reo by pure coincidence on your way to run an errand and how the weather’s been so volatile lately, oscillating between warm and sunny one day and freezing cold during the next. But Nagi—

Well—

Here’s the thing: as impassive as he is most of the time, Nagi is a great listener when it comes to you.

You’ve always been a priority to him and even more so in that facet. To relish in the fleeting moments of winning a game on his phone, or to know what happens in the latest chapter of his favourite manga as soon as possible — the rush of satisfaction he gets out of those is nice, he supposes, but not worth missing a word of what you say, be it something miscellaneous about your day or the biggest news he’s ever heard in his life.

And certainly, nothing is worth missing the small habits that make themselves known in your conversation, that make up the you he first swore love to near the bench outside the convenience store, holding your favourite snack in one hand and offering his jacket to you with his other because the harshness of springtime winds had swept away any warmth your flimsy sweater could contain.

It’s your facial expressions, your gestures, the way you look toward him at the end of each rambling, as if to ask, Are you listening? So then, he’ll answer— a nod, as if to say, Yes. Of course. Please say more. Because for you, it’s all ears and eyes wide open on his end.

But Nagi, admittedly, isn’t perfect, and this is not a matter of opinion. Even you can see the way he can’t stop staring hard at your jacket as though he’s trying to telepathically morph it into something that looks like it came from his closet instead.

Midway through an elaborate plan to sell the jacket for an outrageously high price on some sketchy website (you’re only half-joking… maybe), you finally notice his distant expression. “…Sei?”

His lack of response is all the confirmation you need for your suspicions. A grin then crosses your face, while your eyes sport a gleam that Nagi recognises as smugness once he eventually tears his focus away from the offending item of clothing.

You say his name again, this time teasingly. Then, “Are you jeal—?”

Your question cuts off unceremoniously when his hands reach over to latch onto the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down before tugging on the fabric near your shoulders. Despite the boldness of his actions, you don’t make any move to stop him as he flings Reo’s jacket across the room, hearing it land on the floor with a satisfying sound.

Moments later, he shrugs his jacket off in one smooth motion and then drapes it over your body. With his large palms smoothing over the fabric against your upper arms, it’s such a sweet gesture that you can’t find it in yourself to complain, although the opportunity to poke fun at him is hard to let slip.

“Woah, there.” Cheekily, you brush that one abnormally long part of his bangs away from his face and poke the tip of his nose, to which he responds with his signature pout before burying his face into the crook of your neck. As your back hits the cushion of the arm rest behind you and your hands come up to comb through his hair, you feel a bout of warmth surge through your collarbone area, accompanied by the sound of his voice muffled by your skin.

“I’m not jealous.”

A smile dances around the corners of your mouth despite your efforts to conceal it. “Really?” you say. “I think you are.”

“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles. “You can’t prove it.”

“I mean. You’re kinda all over me right now.”

He huffs at the flurry of giggles that tumble from your mouth boundlessly, like clothes spilling out of an overpacked suitcase. Though, when your laughter finally simmers down and humour seems to have come to a standstill in your conversation, sentimentality weaves its way into your voice, in between mixed undertones of reassurance and leftover amusement.

(Because what you’re about to say is nothing but the truth itself: ardent and vulnerable, despite the sheer casualness in the way you present it.)

“You’re the only one my heart beats for, Seishirō.”

Lazily, he peers up at you. “Promise?”

“I promise. Besides,” you add, snuggling deeper into the collar of his jacket, “your jacket’s way warmer, anyway.”

That could be attributed to the fact that he has practically become your personal heater by sprawling his body over yours on the couch. Nevertheless, the envious fangs surrounding Nagi’s heart slacken, and with your fingers brushing through his hair once again, he can’t help himself from murmuring into your skin, sounding more relieved than he has ever sounded, “Good.”

#nagi x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #blue lock x gender neutral reader #blue lock x you #blue lock x reader #blue lock fluff #bllk x reader #bllk x you #bllk fluff #229ZMI

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andypantsx3 · 11 months

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incendiary | 5 | bakugou x reader

pairing: Bakugou Katsuki / Fem Reader

length: 3.5k | 5th of 8 chapters

summary: When you accidentally go viral in defense of quirkless people, an extremist group puts a target on your back. Pro hero Dynamight is the last person you want watching it.

tags/warnings: enemies to lovers, themes of discrimination (please see note in fic masterpost), canon typical violence, eventual smut, aged up characters

series masterlist

Almost overnight, things began to change.

Bakugou had apparently decided that ignoring you was off the table now, and he was there the next morning when you awoke, audibly puttering around the kitchen, making his usual ruckus of kitchenware sounds. You listened to him work, slowly blinking awake, trying not to think too hard about the events of last night.

He came back into the living room only a few minutes later, bearing two plates of western-style breakfast, piled high with fluffy mounds of scrambled eggs and perfectly golden potatoes. He shoved a plate in front of you like he’d already sensed that you were awake, then retreated back to the kitchen. He returned with two mugs of hot coffee that smelled heavenly–almost certainly fair trade and freshly ground.

He put one in front of you, then dropped down to his place on the opposite side of the coffee table, watching you scrabble out of the blankets with something like a smirk pressing at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew his food was the fire under your feet.

“New rule, brat,” he pronounced as you finally freed yourself, flinging yourself down at the table and seizing your utensils.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop now that you were already in motion, so you fit an entire forkful of potato in your mouth, then looked at him questioningly.

The smirk on his mouth deepened. “Your little stunt yesterday attracted every quirk supremacist in a twenty mile radius to this neighborhood, so you’re gonna have to keep away from the windows until they fuck off.”

You inhaled wrong around your potato, the steam catching in your lungs, and you coughed a little. “What? Quirk supremacists—here?”

Bakugou took a slow sip of his coffee, and you tried not to notice the way his bare bicep flexed as he brought the mug to his mouth. He really needed to invest in shirts with sleeves. “Your little cashier friend from the convenience store apparently leaked video onto YouTube already. The attack’s made a couple of the morning news shows.”

Your stomach churned, and you let your fork clatter back to your plate. “They’ve found us?”

Bakugou’s scarlet gaze tracked your expression over the top of his mug. “Not yet. But people know you’re in the general area now. Genius Office is running ID on all the weirdos showing up around here to find out who they are and what the risk is. But until they know what we’re dealing with, you’re to keep away from the windows. And you’re not going outside again.”

You didn’t think you wanted to go outside again anyway, considering the events of last night. Not for a long while, anyway.

You would never tell him, but it was kind of a relief to have Bakugou in here with you, now, understanding the kinds of people you were up against. But that so sucked, not even being able to poke your nose out a window after weeks of already being cooped up.

You nodded resignedly. You took a sip of your own coffee, then had to suppress a shiver of delight. Definitely freshly ground, and definitely fancy.

“They haven’t seen Matsui, have they?” You asked.

Bakugou shook his head. His hair looked a little messier than yesterday, piecey with gel and slightly flattened on the side he must have slept on. “No. Nothing on Matsui yet.”

You picked up your fork again and went back to your breakfast, at least reassured by that fact.

“Any estimate on how much longer this is gonna go on for?” You asked.

Bakugou scrubbed a hand through that thick golden hair. You watched, strangely enraptured, as it sprang right back up again in wild tufts. “Not much if you keep luring them straight to where you are, princess.”

You frowned into your egg. “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Bakugou’s socked foot poked into yours. “It’s a safehouse for a reason. There were ground rules for a reason.”

You scowled. “Yeah yeah, I get it now. Excuse me for never having been the target of a national witch hunt before.”

Bakugou smiled, a wicked, blade-sharp thing. He leaned across the table. “So you’re gonna be good for me now, brat?”

Your fork clattered against your plate, spattering egg everywhere. You jumped in surprise, registering belatedly that you’d dropped it.

“Good for—? Good—?” you spluttered.

If anything, Bakugou’s smile went wider. “Something wrong, princess?” His eyes were practically glowing as he spoke.

What the hell was he doing? It was one thing to stop giving you the cold shoulder and act friendlier in light of everything that had happened yesterday. It was one thing to make you dinner and breakfast and not loom over you while radiating disdain from every pore. But it was entirely another to do—to do—whatever the fuck that was!

You grasped your fork with suddenly numb fingers, pointedly looking away from him. “No.” You shoveled a large potato into your mouth as if to punctuate that statement.

Bakugou just watched you, too knowingly for your taste. “Uh huh,” he said.

You finished your meal at lightspeed, desperate to get away from Bakugou and whatever that had been just now. Bakugou ate more sedately, seeming like he was mulling something over between delicate bites of his breakfast. You did not care to find out what that was.

You brought your dish to the sink when you’d finished and washed it speedily, then beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom, standing in the shower for a long time. Then you crept back to your room and managed a little bit of homework after you’d dressed, though you were a little too unfocused for your liking.

When you checked your phone you found that messages had started to pile up again, with a litany of texts from Megumi crowning the stack.

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 girl you almost died are you okay 8:58 PM those douchebags omg 8:58 PM please tell me you’re okay i’m really worried about you 9:06 PM

And then, a couple hours later, in typical fashion:

MEGUMI ✨🍹🌴💕 that rescue was so hot though 12:09 AM the way dynamight was all rough with them and then all gentle with you 12:09 AM it’s okay if you’re dead i would have passed away too 12:10 AM

You reassured her that you were fine, then paused, staring at her later messages, mystified. What did she mean, the rescue had been so hot though?

As far as you remembered, Bakugou had come slamming in there, metaphorical guns blazing, and he’d hauled you out of there much the same way. You didn’t think there had been anything particularly sexy about getting your quirkless ass almost handed to you.

Curiosity prickling in your veins, you googled around for the video Bakugou had mentioned, wondering how it had looked so different to someone on the outside. You found an hours-old upload on YouTube entitled dynamight destroys 7-eleven shopfront to save internet legend drunk girl—a title you thought a little unfair considering you had not been drunk this time, even though that was apparently your internet moniker now.

The clip was shot from a vantage point above the register, and started with the back of your head as the two men from yesterday turned the corner and almost immediately began crowding you towards the register. You saw your own face in profile as you peered back at the cashier for help—his own face conveniently hidden from the video’s perspective—and then turned back and said something muted to the two men. The smaller one stepped towards you—you saw yourself take an alarmed step back.

And then, faster than you had remembered—Bakguou was shooting into the store, the glass windows shattering under the blow from the door as he threw it open.

He was just as much a presence on screen as he was in person, all violence and savage grace. You watched as he grabbed the smaller man’s hand and twisted it at a brutal angle, then produced quirk suppressors from where they had been belted under one pant leg, just above his boot. You hadn’t even noticed it, then, hadn’t even thought to question where the quirk suppressor had come from—but he’d been wearing sweatpants yesterday, a pair not unlike the ones he’d been wearing this morning at breakfast.

But he clearly was packing some kind of emergency supply—and you wondered if he was wearing it now, even clanking around in the kitchen.

Then you watched as Bakugou approached you, saw yourself stumble as he grabbed your shirt to pull you out. To your surprise, you could see sudden concern twisting his features, clear as day, and you watched with surprise as he leaned down to look you in the face, hands going under your elbows to support you.

You remembered that—but it had all been so fast, and the sight of his hands, so gentle on you after he’d been so rough with the two men, made something in your stomach shift strangely. He really did seem to be looking after your safety, like an actual certified, probably-not-quirkist pro hero. You watched as Bakugou said something to you, and pulled you up into his arms. You instantly cringed at how truly princess-like you looked—having to be escorted out of the store under someone else’s power.

Embarrassingly, the comments section under the clip seemed particularly focused on that aspect as well.

2:11 ok but the way his arms flexed when he lifted her????? hello?????? jghgl26 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 600 [Thumbs Down]

how he’s gonna carry me over the threshold after our wedding dynadaddy’s girl 5 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.1k [Thumbs Down]

THE LIFT!!!!! HOLY SHIT!!! HOW EASY IT WAS FOR HIM?? am i gregnant? am i pegnate?? how to know if pregonate????? Rika Abe 2 hours ago Reply [Thumbs Up] 1.7k [Thumbs Down]

A hunted energy creeped over you as you read through them, your skin tingling. It suddenly took everything you had in you to click out of the video and not rewind it to the part where Bakugou had first hefted you into his arms. It had not been that appealing. And there was absolutely no reason you needed to witness the events again, no reason at all.

Bakugou chose that exact moment to rap on your door, and you accidentally flung your phone across the room in surprise, scrambling upright on your bed.

“Uh—come in,” you said, trying to not sound flustered.

Bakugou had clearly showered too as his hair was still damp, and moisture still glittered in the divots of his arm muscles. You clamped down very tightly on the echo of pegnate?? Am i gregnant???? that was suddenly the only sound in your entire brain.

No no no no.

You would not let Megumi and some internet perverts get the best of you.

“Oi, you just gonna sit here all day?” Bakugou demanded.

You frowned up at him. “I have been doing homework, thank you very much,” you said defensively.

Bakugou made a show of surveying your bed which was pointedly empty of any textbooks or notepads. “Yeah, looks like you’re real hard at work, princess.”

“Well I was,” you said, but you could already tell Bakugou had made up his mind.

“It’s time to talk about your second new rule,” he pronounced smugly.

“Another one?” You asked, heart sinking.

That razor sharp smile cut into Bakugou’s mouth again. “Yeah. You’re learning how to cook actual fucking food.”

You paused and stared at him, mystified. “What,” you asked flatly.

“I told you I was sick of watching you eat garbage,” he said. You could almost taste the disdain, dripping off of him like butter off of the baked potato he had so despised. “I can’t keep you alive if you die of fucking scurvy.”

“I eat fruit!” You bit back defensively. “And potatoes are good for treating scurvy!”

Bakugou wasn’t listening, though. Before you knew what was happening, he’d already fisted his hand in the back of your shirt and was hauling you to your feet. You felt like a kitten being scruffed by its intimidatingly well-muscled mother.

“Bakugou–what the hell—?”

But you were already being herded into the kitchen, where Bakugou had apparently preemptively arranged the instruments of your torture—several knives, a grater, a variety of pots, a rainbow of vegetables, an apple, some chicken, and a knob of ginger. Behind it all you spotted several other types of herbs and spices, some flour, and chicken stock.

“You’re gonna make curry, princess,” he informed you imperiously.

Curry! Okay now curry you could kind of do. You peered around for the sauce mix, poking through the ingredients on the counter.

Bakugou watched you, scarlet eyes tracking you curiously. “What,” he asked, though it was barely phrased like a question.

“Where’s the packet?” you asked, not finding it among the things he’d laid out.

Two blonde eyebrows went up, and you swore you could almost see a vein pop in Bakugou’s forehead. He grabbed the counter beside your hip, leaning back in, and you definitely did not notice the definition in his bicep as he did so.

“Packet?” He demanded, in the tones of someone who’d just witnessed their entire family get massacred. “Packet?”

You watched his handsome face work through what had to be the five stages of grief. “If I fucking ever hear about a packet again I’ll sell you to Matsui myself,” he said.

He reached over and slammed a kitchen scale down in front of you, followed by several of the ingredients. “Now pay attention, brat, I’m not showing you this twice.”

You knew better than to argue.

Under Bakugou’s stern direction, a curry roux—a term you would not have been able to supply before he’d said it—came together quickly. He stationed you at the stove, stirring everything together for almost twenty minutes while he chopped vegetables in front of you, a rainbow of carrots, potatoes, onions, and some leftover asparagus and peppers he’d dug out of the fridge. Then he made you grate an apple and some ginger into a paste while he sliced the chicken in expert strokes, narrating everything in his gruff tones.

It was strangely hypnotic, watching Bakugou’s hands work. You’d not paid much attention before, but he had long fingers, almost elegant but for the various scars and calluses that littered his skin, evidence of his career pressed into his fair flesh. You watched his fingers bunch at the end of the knife, the swift, decisive sweep of his palm moving ingredients back and forth on the cutting board.

Your skin prickled with the memory of those hands on you in the hallway after you’d passed out, the image of how gently those hands had handled you in the convenience store, and you shook off the thought, the back of your neck weirdly warm.

They were just hands. And they were Bakugou’s hands, for that matter. Make one wrong move on the end of those hands and you’d get cooked, faster than the curry you were working on now.

Eventually Bakugou divided everything into two bowls, and shepherded you over to the coffee table.

“That’s real curry, princess,” he informed you haughtily as you sat down, blowing on the golden sauce. It shimmered under the living room lighting, curls of steam rising off of it in tempting twists.

If this was real curry, you never wanted to eat anything else. As with dinner and breakfast, it was perfect—expertly seasoned, everything evenly sliced and cooked just right. You hated how much you liked it, suppressing a pleased groan as you shoveled down spoonfuls.

“I hate you for how good this is,” you admitted to him.

A wicked smirk cut the corners of Bakugou’s mouth, and the sight of it raised a strange heat to your face. You shifted uncomfortably.

Whatever. It was probably just the spice in the curry.

After dinner you helped Bakugou wash up, and you were sent for a loop by how easy it was. There was still some kind of… tension… that you couldn’t quite put your finger on, and it wasn’t like he’d done a complete one-eighty in your esteem.

But knowing now that he hadn’t despised you for your quirklessness… hadn’t even actually despised you at all, really. It seemed like it had somehow flipped a switch inside of you. You’d told him that you’d needed more time to think on it, to come to terms with the things that he’d told you about himself. But really, with the air cleared so definitively, well—

You kind of thought maybe Bakugou wasn’t horrible after all.

You still wanted to bite him, actually–that hadn’t gone away–but you definitely didn’t think he was horrible.

The thought unnerved you.

When you were done you retreated to your room, still mulling that idea over, bemused at the idea that Bakugou wasn’t actually bad if you weren’t looking at him through the lens of your quirk supremacist glasses.

You managed a little bit more homework and cleaned up your notes from one of your previous lectures, shooting off a couple questions to one of your TAs. And that’s when you finally noticed it, an email from earlier this afternoon, sitting primly at the top of your inbox. It read: New Day Japan - Interview Request

You opened the email, interest piqued by the mention of one of the country’s most famous morning programs. What it said inside floored you.

Miss L/N, My name is Honda Ichika; I’m a producer here at New Day Japan. We’re airing a segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills currently circulating in the National Diet, and we plan to cover your story in relation. We would love to interview as part of this segment. Specifically, we are hoping you can comment on: - Cultural barriers quirkless civilians face - Your specific experiences with respect to the events portrayed in your viral video and subsequent run-in last evening, as a microcosm of those cultural barriers, and -Your feelings on the efforts of the assembly to pass these anti-discrimination bills. The interview won’t exceed 15 minutes and will take place Thursday morning in our studio in Nakano (address to be provided upon acceptance). While I can’t offer questions ahead of time, I promise the questions will fall within the outline I mentioned above. The story, once completed, will run Friday morning. Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is. Cordially, Honda Ichika

You gaped, stunned by the idea that anyone wanted to interview you about anything.

New Day Japan was a hugely important morning news program that had been running for something like the last fifty years, and it was a massive platform for anyone looking to speak to the average citizen.

You didn’t know that you in particular had anything worthy of that massive platform, and you were squirreled away in a safehouse besides, having just almost eaten it at the hands of two random quirkist assholes just yesterday. So it was probably not a great idea to draw any more attention to yourself, and it wasn’t like you had some huge message you wanted to share at the cost of your safety.

So you closed your laptop instead of answering, pulling up twitter on your phone for something to distract you.

And yet, even as you scrolled, your mind was helplessly drawn back to the email like a magnet, catching on key points. A segment on the two quirkless anti-discrimination bills, the cultural barriers quirkless civilians face….

Please let us know by Sunday what your interest is.

You had two days to either put it out of your mind, or figure out why it was piquing your interest so much. You could give it more thought in the morning.

You wondered absently, as you drifted off to sleep, what Bakugou would make of it.

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x fem!reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #bakugo x y/n

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

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thinking about door dasher!eren again as I sit here working

no warnings, except this mf being annoying ☠️

working remotely, sometimes up into the late night hours, it would often times render you unable to leave your desk until after long after a majority of the restaurants and grocery stores in your city had already closed for the day. Besides, you often times didn’t feel like standing over a stove after staring at computer screens and crunching numbers for eight plus hours. So the most viable to ensure you didn’t go hungry once you clocked out was to have DoorDash deliver something. It wasn’t something that had ever really crossed your mind but it was quite the convenient service. However, what you didn’t bet on was your dasher being quite possibly the list insufferable man to ever walk the earth! Eren, the tall, dark haired, handsome green eyed devil who always managed someway or another to get your orders. Scooping it up from your eatery of choice but not without unwarranted sarcastic commentary..tonight was no different! Pulling up to your apartment complex in a grey Challenger, tinted windows with the windows rattling from the obnoxiously loud speakers in his trunk. Blasting Young Nudy or Dolph, as if he had not a lick of fucking sense. “Your Dasher Eren has picked up your order” As soon as you got that notification, your stomach would instantaneously fill with dread.

where most would be glad to see their delivery driver and even tip them, you only went into defense, preparing to have to go for a battle of wits and possibly cussing his ass out. “Bring my food and don’t start today.” But he’s gone do more than just start, he’s gone piss you off! Standing outside of your door, scraping up the pavement in Nike Slides, sweats and a hoodie, beatboxing on your door. “(Y/N)! Hey girl, come get your food!” Putting all your business out there. Telling the whole complex how you ordered a milkshake and a large fry (emphasis on the large!) “I know you hear me. Why you playing?!” Just being an obnoxious asshole 😭 you’re yelling from the 2nd story window for him to leave it. “Eren, I’m not playing with you. Leave my food and go!”

but he’s waiting until you come greet him because he’s not done. “Shawtayyyy!” Acting like a complete degenerate until you come down, flinging the door open. “The fuck do you want, bro?! Give me my food.” Snatching the bag and drink from his hand. Smacking your lips all flustered. But he just keeps wearing that shit eating grin and smirks at you. “Shit, I want my tip. What’s up?” Knowin exactly what he means but the only thing you have for him his a closed door to the face. 0 stars for sure.

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kaiijo · 6 months

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PARALLELS — OIKAWA TOORU

pairing: oikawa tooru x reader content: gn! reader, long distance relationship, light angst, fluff

when the cherry blossoms bloom, you think of oikawa. of days spent hunting for beetles at the base of the trunk when you, he, and iwaizumi were kids. afternoons in middle school when oikawa would roll his eyes at you and repeat again: “parallel lines will never intersect” and ignore your “what if”s. the evening when oikawa pulled you aside during your three-way graduation party and kissed you under the canopy of brown branches and pink flowers.

“oi,” iwaizumi’s gruff voice breaks you from your memories and he asks, “thinking about him again?”

“missing him, more like it,” you say. you glance back at the cherry blossoms, petals translucent in the light of the setting sun. you breathe in the fresh scent. you loop your arm through iwaizumi’s and drag him close to you for a selfie. he offers a small smile to the camera, a dim contrast to your beaming grin.

“we’ve gotta hustle,” he says, checking his watch. “gonna be late for the team dinner.”

“right.”

iwaizumi has the two of you power-walking down the street, thought it’s more like a light jog for you given your friend’s long, steady strides. you pass a convenience store down the street and you do a double take, stopping to stare at the magazine display in the window.

your boyfriend’s face is plastered on the glossy cover, his argentina uniform fitting him in all the right places. he smiles up at you for the paper, the blurb next to him promising a tell-all interview with juicy details. your eyes lock in on the words “love life” and “latest fling” and you can’t help but frown, stomach flipping slightly.

you know all of it is tabloid fodder, nothing but eye-catching headlines, and you trust and love oikawa with everything in you. still, you can’t deny the jealousy you feel when you see him cozied up with a beautiful, leggy model for a photo shoot. jealous that she gets to be physically present with him and you’re halfway around the world.

you hear iwaizumi urge you to come and you quickly catch up with him, your boyfriend’s blindingly white smile flashing through your mind.

the beach makes oikawa think of you. when your parents would take you guys there and you’d all run off to the tidepools and gawk at the starfish and crabs inside. when you two buried iwaizumi up to his neck in sand. when he would scoop you up and dunk you in the salty water, despite the shrieking pleas you let out, begging him not to.

oikawa sighs heavily. he leans against the balcony that over looks the seaside, watching the crystalline water ebb and flow. his phone pings on the small, glass-topped table behind him and he picks it up.

a notification lights up his screen: @.officialhinatashoyo mentioned you in a comment: we’re coming for you @.oikawatooru!!

oikawa opens his phone and finds hinata’s comment underneath a photo of japan’s national volleyball team enjoying drinks and food together.

he swipes through the photos, a bunch of group shots with other players (bokuto and hoshiumi are notable making stupid faces in many of them). oikawa stares at the last picture. hinata’s got his arms thrown around your shoulders and he’s clearly said something that has you giggling right at it was taken.

hinata’s tagged you but he also mentions you in the caption, thanking you for taking these pictures and every other photo of them as the official photographer for the team.

oikawa tries to push down the hollowness spreading in his chest, zooming in on your face. you’re glowing — you always are — and he’s happy you’re happy, but there’s the undeniably envious part of him that wishes he was there. making you laugh and smile. maybe sneaking in a kiss or two in between.

he loves playing for argentina; he likes his teammates, the country, and is grateful for how he’s grown, but he’ll never stop missing you when you’re this far away.

oikawa thinks his thumb moves on its own, dialing your number with practiced ease. he memorized it right after you got your phone, begged his mother to let him get a phone so he could input your contact immediately.

you pick up on the first ring and oikawa can’t hear your very well. he assumes that you’re still out with the team, ears straining. you say, “wait, hold on, tooru.”

he thinks he hears atsumu in the background, “ooh! you’ve got a boyfriend! you’ve got a boyfriend!” and he definitely hears you reply, “this is why you get no bitches, ‘tsumu.”

your voice gets clearer as the background noises fades. “hi, love,” you say, and oikawa can’t help but grin at the words.

“hi, baby,” he says. “you picked up quick! you must really like me, huh?”

you chuckle, “something like that. everything okay?”

“yeah, i just wanted to hear your voice.”

“now who’s the one who likes who?” you tease.

his smile only grows. “you know it. i’m obsessed.”

“right back at you, love.” there’s a short lull in the conversation, but it’s not uncomfortable or awkward. it never is with you two.

oikawa’s alarm breaks the silence, the buzzing of the alert sending vibrations through his hand. he frowns. “i’m sorry, baby, i’ve got to get ready for practice.”

“alright. i miss you and love you, tooru. have a good practice. we need you in top form for internationals.”

he laughs. “yeah, you better tell the guys to watch out. especially ushiwaka and tobio.”

“i let them know.”

“i miss you and love you two.”

“we’ll talk later.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

#oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #oikawa tooru x you #oikawa x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #oikawa tooru #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ kaiijo writes

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dollysilena · 1 year

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TRAINING WHEELS

CHAPTER ONE | DEJA VU

ao3 | series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

five years ago, you stupidly had a fling with inarizaki athlete, miya atsumu– now, present day– he had a son he knew nothing about. you made sure it was going to stay that way, but as fate would have it, he unexpectedly stumbled back into your lives, now as volleyball’s biggest star.

wc & notes: 3.1k — guest star osamu? 🫢

FIVE YEARS AGO — HYOGO PREFECTURE

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You muttered as you impatiently sat on the toilet of the convenience store bathroom. You chewed on your nails as your leg shook anxiously enough to practically make your whole body vibrate. This had to have been the longest three minutes of your life, even longer when you hid with Atsumu from that damn first-year that intruded into the bathroom. God, you should have taken that as a sign to stop your hormone-frenzied self.

If you could go back in time, you never would’ve hooked up with Miya Atsumu in that stupid bathroom stall a month ago. In fact, you would’ve sworn a life of celibacy from that point on if you knew that you would end up here. No sex before marriage, and all that. But it was too late for regret, especially when your period was well over a week late. You silently prayed this was all just some twisted joke.

Your phone alarm went off, indicating the three minutes were up and it promptly ended your little prayer. Your heart caught in your throat at the realization that you were going to have to look at the pregnancy test resting on your lap like a ten-ton weight. There was no way it was going to be positive, you argued with yourself. You were on the pill, you were pretty responsible minus for that impulsive moment with Atsumu (if you could call it that), and you were too young to be having a baby. It was impossible, right?

You shakily inhaled. It was going to be false. It was going to be false and all of this would be something you could laugh at later down the road. All this would just be a silly mistake and you would learn your lesson for it. You repeated the mantra to yourself as you shakily held up the pink stick in your hand. False. False.

Two lines. Positive.

The small dingy bathroom was quickly filled with the sounds of your sobs.

PRESENT DAY — OSAKA, JAPAN

Miya Osamu had seen his fair share of customers. From the normal regulars, the die-hard MSBY fangirls trying to catch a glimpse of Atsumu whenever he stopped in from lunch, and to the old woman who once tried to whack him with her purse when her free onigiri coupon expired. It was safe to say he was well acquainted with most of the patrons who came inside his humble restaurant. (Humble being one of the most popular restaurants in Osaka, that is.)

Osamu was working a normal shift at the front, a Tuesday afternoon with not much to worry about besides the to-go orders and the day to day business. Some days were like this, plain and simple. He was glad it didn’t seem too busy that day, maybe he could close early since the dinner rush had ended earlier than he thought. Deciding to have a short day was one of the perks of being the owner, afterall. He was organizing the display case of ready-made onigiri when the front door opened with a bell ring.

“Hello, welcome to Onigiri Miya,” he greeted. The woman who entered gave him a polite nod and wave before attending to the child beside her. She brought him up to the display case where she read off a few flavors for the young boy to pick from. Osamu furrowed his eyebrows, he recognized you.

He hadn’t seen you before though, he thought. You were wearing a business-like outfit, indicating you probably were at work beforehand and probably just coming in for some dinner before heading home. He usually remembered most faces who came in here, especially his office-working customers since they frequented the restaurant during their lunches, or at the end of shift dinners. But he couldn’t quite recall you. It was odd though, he felt like he knew you from somewhere. Granted, he would have remembered knowing somebody with a kid, all of his friends were young and single mostly. Maybe you were someone from highschool?

The little boy excitedly pointed out the tuna mayo flavor sitting in the display case, and you walked up to the cash register where Osamu stood. Your son held your leg shyly as he hid behind you.

“Hello,” you greeted with a smile. “I’m here to pick up a catering order for the Osaka Publishing Firm.”

Oh, so you were picking up the food for the party he was catering.

I don’t think I know anybody from Osaka Publishing though, Osamu thought to himself before shrugging it off. You probably just had a familiar face.

“And also could I get a tuna mayo onigiri with that?” You added, patting the head of your son still clinging onto your leg. “Haru here isn’t quite full from his lunch.”

Osamu laughed as he looked down at the boy, still meekly hiding behind his mother. He was barely at her waist, and peeked up at him with curious brown eyes. Osamu remembered doing the same thing when he was at that age and felt a kindredness for him. The world is so big when you’re that small. “Big appetite, huh?”

“I wanna be a big strong athlete!” He announced, poking his head out from behind his mother. The way the boy gave him a toothy smile gave him an odd sense of déjà vu, but he had definitely never seen the kid before.

“Let me go get the catering order for ya in the back,” Osamu said, and the woman nodded.

Osamu went through the doors behind the counter into the kitchen. He found the boxes of onigiri wrapped up neatly, ready to go for you out front. As he was double checking the order, he still felt himself rifling through his mind. Where had he seen you before? It was odd, but he shook off the nagging thoughts. You were probably just a customer from the past he forgot about. Though, it started to bother him that he couldn’t recall.

“Alright,” Osamu said, bringing out the order to the front counter. “I have five catering boxes, and one tuna mayo onigiri for mister Haru here.” The little boy beamed up at him, and Osamu chuckled. He was one cute kid, he’ll give him that.

“Do you use fatty tuna in the riceballs?” Haru asked, standing on his tippy toes so he could reach the counter and look at Osamu. “It’s my favorite!”

“Ya know, that’s actually my brother’s favorite food,” Osamu chuckled as he finished wrapping up the boxes.

The kid almost reminded him of Atsumu, he had the same energeticness and toothy smile. And not to mention Haru liked fatty tuna of all things. Funny, now that Osamu thinks of it, Haru kind of looked like his brother when he was that age. He had the same big bright eyes, ruffled dark hair that couldn’t quite be tamed…

Now that he thought about it, Haru looked like Atsumu.

A lot… Actually.

He looked back at you, and you were too busy scribbling down a check in your checkbook. He looked long and hard, and he was right earlier, you did go to high school with him. He can vaguely recall a fuzzy image of your face. You weren’t in the same class, but you definitely were in the same grade. But if he couldn't remember who you were, why did he recognize you then? And why was it bothering the hell out of him that he couldn’t? He felt his brain short circuiting as he scanned your face for answers.

You looked back at him with a smile, sticking the check out for him. He looked at your smile and then it clicked.

FIVE YEARS AGO — HYOGO PREFECTURE, THE MIYA RESIDENCE

“She ghosted me!” Atsumu cried, flopping onto Osamu’s bed in their shared bedroom. Osamu felt a vein pop in his forehead, not only was his annoying brother interrupting his quiet time, he also intruded onto his beloved bed. When you shared a room, it was practically like crossing into illegal territory.

“I thought I could ask her out but she just ups and moves away! She even changed her number.” Atsumu whined, kicking his feet like a bratty child. Osamu was practically living with one anyway seeing as how the eighteen year old acted. He grimaced at the way Atsumu was roughing up the bedsheets he had just washed.

“She probably realized ya ain’t shit,” Osamu scoffed, attempting to shove him off the bed.

Osamu didn’t know much about his brother’s mystery girl, besides the fact she was Atsumu’s recent (of many) infatuations. He found it odd that she had abruptly moved without a word, especially since he thought she and Atsumu were hitting it off pretty well. (Maybe a little too well, according to a particular bathroom rumor he heard from a first year.) Maybe her parents had to move for work or something of the sort, but hey, it was none of his business nor his problem. He looked over to see Atsumu still lamenting beside him as he scrolled through his phone.

“Who’s this girl anyway?” Osamu asked, realizing he had never actually met you in-person since you were in Atsumu’s class and not his. He thanked his lucky stars he ended up being in a separate class from Osamu in their third year.

Atsumu shoved his phone in Osamu’s face with her Instagram profile on the screen.

A girl with a bright smile plastered on the screen.

PRESENT DAY

He remembered now. He looked back at you, and realized you were the face on Atsumu’s phone. That girl who hooked up with his brother and disappeared five years ago was you. Then he remembered the little boy standing beside you, the one who looked eerily like his twin brother. He looked back down at Haru, who was eyeing the onigiri on the counter hungrily.

There was no way…

“Hey kid, how old are ya?”

“Four!” He grinned. Osamu swore it was Atsumu’s grin staring right back at him.

Osamu’s brain was going into overdrive as he went over the details. Five years ago, some girl—who he was damn near positive was you—ghosted his brother after hooking up with him. She moved away without a word and Atsumu never heard from her again. Now five years later, you showed up in his restaurant with a four year old who looked almost exactly like his brother.

What if the reason you moved away suddenly was because…

Quite frankly, Osamu felt like he was shitting bricks.

His brain was doing somersaults and he felt like the world’s gravity swung upside-down. With the facts lined up, and not to mention the math, his theory was seemingly impossible to deny. If you were the girl he thought you were, that would mean it was more than likely this kid was Atsumu’s.

“Alright, here’s the money for the order,” you said, hand still stretched out. “I hope a company check will do.”

No, no, you can’t leave! He couldn’t lose you, who knew if you’d ever show up again. He needed a way to confirm your identity, and quickly.

“Actually,” Osamu replied, scrambling in his head for some answer. “We don’t take checks, only cash and card.”

“I guess I have some money on me–” No, cash wouldn’t tell him your name!

“Would you look at that! The cash register isn’t opening!” Osamu chuckled nervously, repeatedly punching a random button on the register that definitely wasn’t the open button.

You’re obviously growing more suspicious as you raised an eyebrow, Osamu was clearly acting strange, even he knew it. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be acting like a damn moron (that was more Atsumu), but obviously nothing about this was normal.

“Oh, okay then,” you frowned, digging through your purse and handing him a card. Perfect! He thought. He took it graciously, and quickly looked at the name on it. Damnit, it’s a company card. He was running out of time before you walked out those doors.

“I think that our card machine on the machine is broken too actually,” Osamu stammered, quickly making up another lie. “I’m gonna have to manually input it in the back, but to do that, I’m gonna need a name to put it under.”

“Osaka Publishing should work,” you replied, growing noticeably weirded out.

“I need an actual name,” he stiffly grinned. “Ya know, to put it in the books incase we need a contact to give you a refund.”

You looked at him oddly, “It’s (L/N) (F/N).” There we go!

“Wait here!” He responded almost too quickly. He didn’t give you a moment to think before he was rushing into the kitchen again. Once he was in the clear, he dug his phone out of his pocket, and quickly dialed his brother. You better pick up, you no-good piece of shit! He thought.

The phone rang agonizingly long before he was greeted with the sounds of volleyballs bouncing and sneakers squeaking on gym floors when Atsumu picked up. He sighed deeply and his shoulders collapsed in relief.

“Ya better have a good reason to be bothering me at practice ‘Samu!--”

“What’s the name of the girl who ghosted ya in high school?!” Osamu barked abruptly.

“What the–” Atsumu responded, taken aback. “Why–”

“Atsumu, tell me now!”

Atsumu paused on the other side.

“It was (L/N) (F/N), why?”

Osamu’s stomach dropped to his shoes. You were the same girl. There was no doubt about it now. The kid outside had to be his nephew, and Atsumu’s son.

“Atsumu, ya need to come to the restaurant right now,” Osamu instructed hastily. “(Y/N) is here–” Atsumu’s laugh interrupted him.

“I know I was pretty torn up about it back then, but I don’t see why I need to–”

“Listen to me, ya moron!” Osamu exclaimed through clenched teeth. “Don’t you think it was weird she ghosted ya out of nowhere five years ago after hooking up with ya? Well, she’s here right now with a four year old, and I don’t think the fact he looks like you is a coincidence.”

Atsumu grew silent. As much as Osamu reprimanded his brother for his lack of brains, he knew he wasn’t a big enough idiot not to hear what he was implying.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

—

You wiped Haru’s messy face with a handkerchief as he finished his onigiri. You sighed as you looked at your wristwatch, at this rate you were going to be late to the company party. Where was the cashier? Not only did he start acting bizarrely out of nowhere, he disappeared without a trace.

Your phone started buzzing in your pocket, and you saw Naomi’s caller ID. You picked up with a groan.

“Hey, did you pick up the food yet?”

“Naomi, this is the last time I’m ever doing a favor for you,” you grumbled. “This is taking way longer than you said it would.”

“That’s odd,” Naomi hummed in confusion. “They called me earlier to tell me my order was ready to be picked up, there shouldn’t be any holdup.”

“Well,” you responded as you scooped Haru into your arms, who was growing sleepy with his full stomach. “The cashier is kind of a weirdo.”

You recalled the prior minutes to Naomi, noting that the “open button” he was pushing on the cash register was definitely the ‘7’ button. You would have left at that point if not for the fact he still had your company card with him, not to mention the catering for the party.

“He never acts weird whenever I go there for lunch, I actually think Osamu’s hot!” So that was his name.“Maybe you don’t notice because you got a nutty sense in men,” you snickered. You recalled the past few boyfriends Naomi had, who were less than conventional.

“Hey!” Naomi responded defensively. “But let me tell you, you should see his brother!”

You rolled your eyes in response, even if Naomi couldn’t see it. You remembered he had mentioned his brother earlier, who shared a love of fatty tuna like your son. Though, if he was anything like the odd brother you were with, you probably didn’t wanna meet him.

“Oh no,” you muttered, looking at the time. It was nearly six o’clock. “I’m gonna be late for the sitter at this rate.”

“Y’know what,” Naomi said, “I’m ready now, just get Haru to the babysitter and I’ll get the food since you need to run, I want an excuse to look at that hunk anyway.” You laughed in response.

“You sure? I can wait a little longer.” You replied, not wanting your friend to be chewed out by your boss for being late, however, you were met with Naomi insisting.

“Alright, then.” You shrugged, you certainly weren’t going to argue since the babysitter charged a late fee. You looked back down at your son, dozing off in your arms. “Haru, baby, we’re gonna go to the babysitter now.”

Your son hummed in your arms, already drifting off into sleep.

“Uh, sir!” you called out loud enough for the man to hear you in the back kitchen. “I actually have to get going now so somebody else is going to come pick up the food.”

Before you could even get your bearings to get ready and leave, he frantically came bursting out from the kitchen. “Hold on, you can’t leave!”

You were taken aback and dropped your phone in shock at his sudden appearance. Oh hell no, this guy really was crazy! You clutched your son closer, who was still fast asleep. You were now in protective mama bear mode now, and you were ready to throw down with the now assumably crazy cashier in front of you. You glanced around the restaurant for anyone else to help, but unluckily enough for you, you were alone. However, you looked down at your fallen phone to notice Naomi was still on the line.

“I don’t know what your deal is but if you keep this up I’m calling the cops!” You shouted. “I’m leaving!”

“Wait, hear me out!--” As he tried to approach you. Absolutely not!

“Naomi, help!” You screeched, backing away, and you could hear the girl on the other line shouting back. You could hear her door slam on the other side, presumably to go get you.

You felt Haru start to fuss in your arms. “Mama, what’s going on?”

You spun around and made a beeline for the door, despite the protests of the insane man behind you. You were about to rush out the door before you slammed into somebody. It wasn’t Naomi, there was no way she could have made it this quickly, and the chest of whoever it was, was definitely a larger man. You looked up, praying it could be someone who could help you, but what you were greeted with was much worse.

“(Y/N)?” Miya Atsumu stammered.

Well fuck, you were definitely gonna be late now.

notes: if ur wondering, y/n didn’t recognize osamu bc they never met in high school!! i tried to make osamu figuring out as realistic as possible but at the end of the day this is still fiction 😔

reblogs, comments, and asks are appreciated!

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu fluff #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #miya atsumu #miya atsumu fluff #miya atsumu smau #miya atsumu series #atsumu x you #miya atsumu x you #my writing

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fragilecapric0rnn · 4 months

Text

the most i'll ever write b*lly into one of my fics. this was written over the summer (or maybe spring?) and i just found it and cleaned it up. pre-s3. summer of 1985 shenanigans. ft slurpees, steve being annoyed, and a fist fight at 7-11.

Excuse Me, This is a 7-11 in 1985

“No way!” Steve scolds, the top half of his body turned and facing the backseat. “Shoes off the seats, Mayfield!”

“Don’t be such a buzzkill,” Robin says, swinging her own drink around too much for Steve's liking as she flings herself into the passenger seat.

He’s too nice. He’s way too fucking nice. He was too nice when Max and Lucas showed up in front of Scoops Ahoy, stranded because they missed the last bus. Which meant Robin also missed the last bus, which meant he had no choice but to offer them all rides home.

Too nice to say no when they were about to pass the 7-11 and they all perked up. They didn’t even have to ask, he just pulled into the parking lot.

He’s too nice.

“Thanks for the treat, Dingus.” Robin says, spraying crumbs of her ho-ho all over the front seat. He pretends not to notice. If he thinks about it for too long, he’ll end up plowing the front of his car right into the convenience store in front of him.

Well, not in front of them. Off to the left, giving them all a view of the entire lot. Watching cars pull in, the four of them watching the other patrons, being nosy.

It wasn’t unusual for cars to come and go from the parking lot at this hour. There was not much else to do at this hour in a shit hole town once the mall closed.

What was unusual was the sight of a familiar blue Camero, following close behind a familiar van.

Steve furrows his brow at the sight, shakes his head. Probably a drug deal or something. He takes a loud slurp of his cherry slurpee as he shuts his car off, makes sure the lights are all off, just to ease the anxiety he can feel emanating from the two kids hanging out in his backseat.

Robin, who doesn’t know exactly what happened, but knows the gist of Steve coming to school with his face bashed just last fall, looks at him.

“Maybe we should get going?” She suggests. Steve looks at her and then back at Max, waiting for her to make the call.

“I don’t…” Max starts, but fades out, her face scrunching up in curiosity. Steve follows her eyeline back to the cars, which are now parked so that the Camero is blocking in the van. Steve immediately turns the car on. Lucas starts hitting him in the arm repeatedly.

“What the hell are you doing?! What if he sees us!?” Lucas’ voice going up about sixteen octaves.

As they pull up, they see two figures talking, or arguing more like, in front of the Camero. The headlights highlight the silhouettes of both Billy and the owner of the van, Eddie Munson. Neither of them paying any attention to the fact that Steve’s car is approaching them for a better view of their argument. Which is all it looks like, raised voices at each other.

Then, Billy shoves Eddie. Hard.

“Let’s just go, Steve. We don’t wanna get —”

“Oh shit!” Max yells from the backseat.

Steve barely catches the sight of Eddie decking Billy in the face, sending him on his ass almost instantaneously.

“Oh my god!” Lucas yells, as Eddie scrambles on top of him, punching him repeatedly .

“Get his ass!” Max shouts, as Billy starts to hit back.

“Should we do something? Should we help him?” Robin sounds panicked.

As soon as the words leave her mouth, they see police lights in the distance.

Fuck it, Steve thinks. He whips his car up to the side of the fight, rolls his window down as he does.

“Munson!” He yells as he brings the car to harsh stop.

Eddie stops, eyes look glazed over and out of breath. Steve ignores the twinge in his stomach.

“Get in!” Max yells, flinging her door open. Eddie, without hesitation, dives into the back seat. The door slams shut as Steve peels out of the lot, over the curb, and jams out of there. Robin’s yelling, Lucas is screaming like a little girl, Max is laughing, and Eddie is stunned silent, wringing out his scratched up hands.

“Nice uniform, Harrington.”

Yeah. Steve is definitely too nice.

#I've had this in a google doc forEVERRRR #as i was cleaning house (and procrastinating a fic i was trying to finish) i decided to clean it up and publish it bc WHY NOT #this is so stupid and the most i'll ever put b*lly in a fic #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #max mayfield #lucas sinclair #stranger things ficlet #my fic

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demonichikikomori · 2 months

Text

Peel My Orange?: Mad Trigger Crew

(Fem!Reader)

You ask him to peel an orange for you.

Buster Bros!!! - Fling Posse - Matenro - Bad Ass Temple - Doitsutarehompo

Samatoki Aohitsugi

He’s already intimidating enough so testing him with something like this already feels like a bad idea.

You decided to visit Samatoki in his office space, idly sitting on a dark leather couch with an orange in your hands and watching it intently.

Samatoki was busy with paperwork he should’ve already handled but continuously put off. A cigarette was tucked between his fingers as he scowled with agitation.

When you finally gathered the courage to speak up and ask him if he could peel your orange for you, you were pleasantly surprised by his outstretched hand and the sight of him putting out his cigarette.

You handed Samatoki your orange and watched in silence as he peeled the fruit by picking and pulling at the rind. He would discard the torn apart shell on his extremely important paperwork, clicking his tongue when some of the juice would spill droplets and stain his work. But he didn't care enough to stop peeling.

When the job was finished, he motioned to a chair much closer to his desk. "Eat it right here." He instructed with a grunt and placed your peeled orange on another paper that looked important. You feared using it as a napkin, but if Samatoki said it was fine then you had no choice but to believe him. "Thank you." You smiled and pulled the fruit apart, holding a slice towards him, which he promptly accepted. "As if I could ever tell you no."

Jyuto Iruma

You joined Jyuto in his police car, riding along with him on patrol for the day and enjoying the Yokohama scenery. It was lunchtime now, and Jyuto had pulled over near a small convenience store where he could have a cigarette while sending you inside to get yourself a snack and something for him.

You spotted a small basket of fresh oranges and had an idea. You had seen a trend online of girls asking their boyfriends to peel their oranges for them and it sounded like a fun test to try on Jyuto. Unless he caught onto your antics...

You left the convenience store with the orange and a small bag of cheese dusted corn puffs for Jyuto. He was enjoying your cigarette and noticed that you had gotten him something cheesy, but the orange was a strange sight.

You then sheepishly asked him if it wasn't too much trouble... Could he peel your orange for you.

"We're you not hungry?" He asked in surprise as you gave a small shrug. "A fruit can be a snack. This is what I wanted." You smiled up at him nervously and he returned the expression. "You're right, forgive me." He chuckled and blew a small cloud of smoke in the opposite direction. "Allow me." He held out his left hand and you gave up your orange.

He peeled away his wine red gloves and tucked them into the pocket of his jacket. Jyuto was careful as he peeled the orange neatly into sections with the pastel mesh of the fruit now exposed. Quick and efficient, not one did he use his bare hands to reach for his cigarette that hung between his lips. The rind was folded away like a makeshift napkin for you to hold it in your hands. You thanked him as he returned the fruit to you and he nodded with a small shooing motion with his hand. "Yes, yes, now please let me finish smoking. I don't want to ruin the taste." You obeyed his request with a smile on your face and waited for him inside of the patrol car.

Rio Mason Busujima

He stares at you before holding out his large hand to accept your orange.

Rio is happy to peel it for you, although he isn't sure what rendered you incapable of doing something so simple on your own.

Perhaps you were feeling ill? When you came to see him in his humble camp, you never seemed to have an appetite. And something like an orange wouldn't be enough for you to get better!

Rio was hoping you would've chosen a snack with proteins. Were you always a shy eater? Have no fear, he can make you a hearty grasshopper soup after you finish your snack!

Rio was clumsy with the way he peeled your orange. He sat on a large log, focusing intently on the task of removing the peel without mutilating the fruit. Maybe he could use the peel in some sort of recipe for later? It would be a shame to let it go to waste! Soon, Rio had finished. And your orange looked worse for wear...

He had squished one of the slices with some of his rough man-handling and some of the rind he could not neatly remove without ripping off some of the fruit and the mesh attached. The sight had greatly upset him more than it would upset you. "Please forgive me... I think I messed up." He sounded dejected and you quickly assured him that it was fine. Rio remained disappointed in your now disfigured orange until you had moved to sit on his thigh and pointed to the orange in his big hand. "I want to eat it still, because you were kind enough to peel it for me." You explained and you could see his expression start to brighten. You sat on Rio's lap as the sun began to set, and enjoyed the little fruit together.

#Peel My Orange?#hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypmic #hypmic x reader #hypmic samatoki #hypmic jyuto #hypmic rio #mad trigger crew #samatoki x reader #jyuto x reader #rio x reader #samatoki aohitsugi #jyuto iruma #rio mason busujima #mtc

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inlovewithgreta · 11 months

Text

Toys — Bellatrix Lestrange x Fem!Reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Synopsis: Bellatrix comes up with an idea to pleasure you during a dark meeting.

Warnings: Spanking, praise, degradation, toy play (internal toy use), teasing, mommy kink, cunnilingus

Word Count: 1.7k

a/n: This is a more softer version of Bellatrix that is also inspired by a scene from Fifty Shades Darker. Also I am thinking about making a part two of this in the future since it is a bit short and I left the perfect opening for it but we’ll see!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You groan when Bellatrix reveals what she has in store for you today.

There was another Death Eater meeting as there usually was every Friday night and as you could expect they were very very boring. But this time, Bella wanted to do something to make it just a little bit more interesting.

You were in your undergarments getting ready for today's events when Bella comes up in front of you and reveals a little surprise from behind her back.

She held up a string with two decent sized silver balls that were conveniently spread just an inch from each other. One sat at one end while the other sat in the middle.

"I want you to wear these." She instantly demands.

"How am I supposed to wear whatever that is?" You point to the object with visible confusion.

The curly haired brunette laughs her usual throaty cackle.

"Good to know I haven't completely corrupted you just yet. They don't work unless they're wet, now open." She demands once again as she lifts her new toy to your lips.

You know better and do just as you're told, opening your mouth while she slips the cool metal inside and your mouth instantly wrapping around it.

"Good girl, now bend over the bed. Go on."

You release the object with a pop and walk quietly to the bed before using your hands to support you up as you gently bend yourself over the mattress.

She makes way behind you and slowly slides your lace panties down your legs.

The toy gets brought between your thighs as she eases its way into your cunt, one silver ball at a time. The pressure hits you in just the right spots, holding back a moan and gasping as she fills you.

"Look at you taking it so well for me."

Once Bella is satisfied, she lifts your panties back into place and gives you a kiss on your right hip.

Standing straight back up elicits another gasp from you as pleasure seems to come from any movement.

"How does it feel?" She asks sincerely.

The one thing she always made sure of was that you were comfortable with whatever it was the two of you were trying when it came to something new. The last thing she wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable and have a bad experience.

"It feels a bit. . . weird." You admit.

"It'll feel even better once you get moving. . . or sit down. . . oh what am I saying, everything is going to set you off!" The brunette cackles to herself before turning around and walking towards the door, "You have five minutes, don't be late!" She shouts over her shoulder before slamming the door shut.

You try to quickly scramble the rest of your outfit together but panic when your bracelet flings under the bed.

"Shit!" You immediately get on all fours and reach an arm under the frame, frantically searching for the missing jewelry.

"No no no, this can't be happening right now."

Fingers quickly feel around the dense carpet for who knows how long.

Taking a peak, you see it just out of your reach and sigh in frustration. It takes the entire length of your arm and a firm press of your head against the bed frame, that was sure to leave a mark, to finally reach the silver bracelet.

Sitting up on your knees, it takes a minute for the clasp to stay together and you sigh in relief. Scrambling to your feet, you quickly step into your heels and stumble out the door without another second to lose.

You do your best to ignore the ache between your thighs while rushing down the stairs, careful not to fall on your face.

You quickly fix your composure before entering the meeting. Luck was not on your side as everyone turned to look at you but your eyes only fell onto a pair of seething dark ones from a certain curly haired witch.

"Apologies. . ." You nearly mumble as you slide into your seat, trying to avoid any other eyes staring at you. It takes everything in you to not moan the second you make contact with the wooden chair.

Bellatrix was right, you did feel them with every move you made.

Doing your best to ignore the situation as a whole, you couldn't help but feel a pair of dark eyes lingering on you.

After taking a peak at the curly haired woman next to you, your eyes are instantly met with hers. She had a sleek eyebrow raised when she noticed you crossing your legs and tapping your foot against the floor.

There was an ache between your thighs and she knew exactly what was happening to you. She knew you were longing to cum but due to your tardiness, she wanted to have some fun with you first.

Her hand slips down to your thighs and immediately separates them. Fingers glide to your center and Bellatrix couldn't help the smirk that spread along her face once she felt how wet you were.

Her fingers slowly toy with you through the thin fabric.

A soft moan barely escapes, causing you to immediately cover it up with a cough.

"Are you okay?" Bella's two-toned haired sister to your left whispers towards you.

"I-I'm fine." You clear your throat, "It's just a tickle."

"I think she's just a bit thirsty, aren't you dear?" Bellatrix chimes in quietly.

"Yeah that's it. . ."

After a few more minutes of Bellatrix getting you all hot and bothered, the meeting comes to an end and everybody goes their separate ways besides you and her.

"Come now, it's time we play." Bella nearly shoves you out of the seat.

The two of you make your way back up the stairs, down the hallway, and back into your shared bedroom.

"You were late." She slams the door, bringing you over towards the bed, "And what do we do to those who don't listen?" She sits down at the edge of the bed.

"They get punished." You answer her.

"That's correct." Bella pats her legs, "Now bend over."

You do as you're told and bend yourself across her legs, leaving your ass sticking out in the air for her.

"Look at you, being good and finally doing what you're told," She says while sliding your panties down your legs, "It's too bad you didn't listen to begin with, now I must punish you like a little whore."

Her hand rubs your bare ass as she prepares to have her fun.

"Aren't you going to take out-"

"Nope."

Smack

Her hand makes contact with your skin that elicits a sharp sting that runs straight up your spine causing you to gasp.

She smirked as she immediately saw you reacting to both the pain and the pleasure mixed together.

She soothes the same spot as before with the palm of her hand.

Smack

Moans slip through as she slowly makes the skin on your ass just a tad bit brighter with every slap.

You could feel your wetness run down your thighs, the pain quickly fading until all you felt was the pleasure.

The brunette instantly noticed the change in your demeanor.

"I can see this punishment is coming to an end, have you learned your lesson?"

Smack

"Yes!"

"And that is?" She smirks to herself.

Smack

"I won't be late again! I swear!"

"Good."

Smack

She rubs your now reddened cheek one last time before helping you sit up on your knees.

Her finger wipes a stray tear off your face as she examines to make sure you were okay.

"Now, my little plaything, lay back on the bed so you can get your reward for taking your punishment so well."

You rise to your feet and crawl onto the bed next to her, slightly wincing once you turn over and your ass makes contact with the mattress.

She chuckles as she gets to her knees at the end of the bed, pulling you by your ankles to get you just a tad bit closer to her. The now soaked panties get taken off completely and tossed aside.

She spreads your legs, and glides her fingers to your entrance and pulls on the toy, gently yet slowly taking it out of you. A deep drawn out moan fills her ears before she sets the toy aside to clean later.

"Look at you, taking it so well for mommy."

Eyes instantly connect with your cunt before she leans her head in for her tongue to lick the strip up your folds with a small hum.

Your fingers help move the crazy curls out of her face. Usually she would hate anybody touching her locks but with you she made an exception.

She always admired the way you fell to pieces whenever she touched you.

She even admired how you tasted against her tongue. You were hers and only hers.

Bella held your legs open with her hands against your thighs as she expertly devoured you in a way that had you trembling.

Her tongue flicking your overly sensitive clit elicited a string of moans followed by a tighter grip of her hair.

Your head couldn't help but lull back. She saw your hips begging to buck and your breathing picked up and she knew you were close.

"Cum for me, pet. Let me get that sweet taste of you."

You were already close after having the feeling of pleasure throughout the night. The second her mouth started sucking and flicking against your clit at an excruciatingly fast pace is what sent you over the edge.

Legs tensed up when you came, Bella wasting no time in licking up your mess, humming when she gets more of a taste of you. She licks you completely clean and you can't help but slightly push her head away at the feeling of overstimulation when she doesn't stop. "Okay okay," You breathe out, slightly pushing her head away which causes her to chuckle.

She licks her lips as she stands up, a wicked smirk plastered on her face. She reaches behind her and pulls her zipper down. Her dress falls down to the floor, revealing her naked body, and she kicks off her heels before swiftly turning and strutting to the restroom, hips swaying to their own rhythm.

"Come shower, little one, it's my turn." A smirk was still plastered on her face as she looked over her shoulder at you and you scramble to your feet after her.

This was going to be a long night.

#bellatrix lestrange #bellatrix black #bellatrix x reader #lesbiansmut #smut #fanfic #no plot whatsoever #oneshot #praise #pwp fics #wlw smut #mommy k!nk #fem reader

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cameronspecial · 4 months

Note

can you do wildest dreams x rafe PLSS🥹🥹🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷

Her Wildest Dream

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Mention of Robbery and Getting Arrested

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N sits on the curb in the dark of the night. She snuck out of the house five minutes ago and is not waiting for Rafe to pick her up from the convenience store she is waiting at so that her parents don’t hear his bike. The rev of an engine causes her to dart to her feet in anticipation of her boyfriend. She thinks nothing of the distant sirens that sound throughout the night. How could her perfect man have anything to do with it? He slows in front of her and takes his helmet off with a shake of his hair. He grins at her, beckoning her to approach with a finger. She rushes over to him and flings her arms around his neck to kiss him. His arms slide to her waist, pulling her flush to his chest. “Come on, Princess. Let's get out of this town. Drive out of the city, away from the crowd,” he whispers, settling his helmet onto her head. She nods and giggles as he flicks the visor down. Her arms circle his waist while she swings her legs onto the motorcycle, resting the balls of her feet onto the pegs. Without warning, he drives off and she knows what to do already. Her arms grip against him and she leans into each turn with him.

They get to the beach farthest from civilization and lie down on the sand together. She talks to him for hours about every little thing that has happened to her since they last saw each other. Rafe listens to her like she is telling him the secret to eternal life. She wishes he would show this side of him to more people, then they wouldn’t think he is so bad. She doesn’t notice his apprehension. He’s good at hiding it. He would rather die than let her know that the cops were looking for him because he tried robbing a bank. But he needed that money for them. His father cut him off, so he needed the money to take her away from there. They could get away from the Outer Banks and be together. Without any labels from everyone around.

This is probably going to be the last time they see each other again. He could’ve taken her far away, trying to run from the police. However, that isn’t the memory he wants of her. He wants to remember her, standing on the beach in her favourite dress. Her eyes observe the sunrise with her hair in the wind and the breeze nipping at her nose. As the sirens approach, he joins her at her side. She turns to him in confusion. He can’t put into words what is about to happen next, so he decides to save her the trouble of seeing the scene. He kisses her lips and then her forehead, backing away at the sight of her frowned eyebrows. Shouppe gets out of the car with his gun raised and watches as Rafe makes his way over with his hands up. “I’ll go with you, just promise me she won’t see anything and that you’ll get her home safely. Please,” Rafe begs, turning at Shouppe’s nod so the cuffs can be put on him. He catches one last glance at his princess to find her staring as the sun sets on their relationship.

———

She knew that this story didn’t have a happy ending. She is the preacher’s daughter. An innocent vision and a good role model that every parent wants their daughter to turn out like. He is the notorious bad boy. A walking red flag that every parent warns their daughter against. But Y/N was always a little naive, thinking she could help him change. And it worked. But this story was just supposed to be her wildest dream.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @victory-in-the-llama @drewsmusee @starkowswife

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yoisami · 7 months

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tags. oikawa x gn!reader, 753 wc, the idea of summer fling is incorporated, characters are 18, they kiss lol, i literally wrote this in one sitting so haha it’s kinda rough, not proofread

you’re convinced that he’s just a summer fling and nothing more.

it’s been three weeks since you first stole a glance at him on a bus to the local shopping mall because his handsome face captivated you and your heart.

and it’s been three weeks since he caught you staring for a moment, sending you a dangerously charming smile before his attention returned to his phone, seeming intensely invested in whatever was on his phone as he adjusted his wired earbuds.

and somehow, you saw him again at the convenience store two days later, heavily contemplating the pastry section as he picked up a packaged blueberry danish, examined it, before putting it down and selecting a small packet of milk bread. and somehow, for some reason, when you exited the convenience store with your desired cold drink, he jogged up to you, asking you if you were new around here.

on that night, the stars aligned—either these stars finally blessed you a snippet—a taste of teenage romance, or they indulged in tormenting your weak little heart because you fell for oikawa tooru fast.

way too fast—you were a reasonable individual, and you typically preferred to listen to your mind than your heart, except this time around.

oikawa had you infatuated within a week with his seemingly beguiling looks, but he had you yearning for him with his oddly decent personality when you were awake at ungodly hours at night. you often stared blankly at the uneven brushstrokes of white paint on the ceiling, because the memory of his flowery words continued replay in your mind, making it difficult to sleep since your stomach felt ticklish inside.

and damn him for giving you hope that you had a chance with him—because somehow, he seemed to like you too.

the fact that you “coincidentally” ran into oikawa at least once a day was too good to be true.

the fact that he offered to walk you back to your grandparents’ place after you’ve run your errands at the grocery store suggested that he was seizing any opportunity to spend time with you.

and the fact that he sneakily grazed the back of his hand over yours every few minutes as he nonchalantly continued talking screamed that he too, wanted to share something romantic with you.

you were stuck in this teasing game for a good week—oikawa finally had your number in his list of contacts by the end of the first week; the two of you took walks together around the neighbourhood without a destination in mind; and he held your hand when you crossed a busy road, saying it was for the sake of your safety (you’re eighteen, please).

and yesterday at sunset, a “date” with oikawa was bestowed on you by the stars on your last day in miyagi—it was a walk to the same convenience store where you saw him three weeks ago.

with an ice cream in your hand and a lemon popsicle in his, the two of you walked down the street to the local park to find a place to enjoy the cold treats you purchased.

the setting sun behind oikawa casted a mellow, dainty glow over his skin, and it had you enamoured, but the touch of his lips against yours engulfed you whole.

it wasn’t the summer heat that had you melting in his half-embrace, but it was oikawa, who grasped onto the back of the bench as he invaded even more of your personal bubble, with his lips slipping perfectly into yours like two pieces of puzzles.

and of course, you invited him into your space.

you had a handful of his cotton shirt in your hold, and his palm held your cheek gently and closely like a piece of fine china. his heartbeat reverberated in the coming night, resembling the melody of a song that has now become your favourite—it’s a sound that you hope to hear again, and again.

and when his lips eventually left yours, you were dazed and elated, unable to comprehend the sweet taste of lemonade from the popsicle that he ate.

now, as you’re sitting in a taxi on your way to the airport, a certain, sour feeling is gnawing on your heartstrings. it’s uncomfortable—it’s bittersweet, because you know he’s just a summer fling, and what you shared was probably just a trivial fragment of all the romance he’s experienced in his lifetime.

that is until your phone vibrates, and it’s a notification that you’ve been waiting for since last night.

oikawa tooru you’re still stuck with me, by the way. [11:32 am]

you were convinced that he was just a summer fling, but turns out, he’s so much more.

#૮(ˊ ᵔ ˋ)ა — ୨୧ by saki #lol first haikyuu drabble that is NOT osamu #mid work but thats ok #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #oikawa tooru #haikyuu oikawa #tooru oikawa #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #tooru oikawa x reader #oikawa imagines

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catindabag · 5 months

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The fourth set of ✨Academy Photos✨ in my TBOSAS Crack!AU. Here’s PART 1, PART 2, & PART 3.

PS: A certain Mentor (Festus) secretly gave the Tributes a camera to share in order to quench their boredom while waiting for the final verdict that would change Panem forever. (AKA: The great trial to stop/revamp the Hunger Games and replace it with ✨Panemvision✨). Enjoy~.

Sabyn, Facet, and Velvereen pretending to enjoy Palmyra Monty’s infamous expired family pie before being rushed to Dennis Fling’s Black Market clinic again to recover. #barelysurvived #send #sorrows #prayers #foodpoisonedby #PalmyrafreakingMonty

Domitia Whimsiwick laughing at Festus Creed (at the back) because of his failure to buy booze and chocolates for the group. The convenience store clerk thought Creed was just 15 years old and almost got him arrested for illegally buying alcohol as a minor. #Festusfails #Felixhelpus #almostgotarrested #again

Velvereen, Facet, Dill, and Mizzen hiding at the back of the school kitchen while waiting for their Mentors to empty out the food pantry again. #atfancyschool #washungry #needthatheavenbread #withMizzenthegremlin

Bobbin (Corn Poppy) being forced by Coral and Wovey to go with Coryo and Sejanus to an underground dance competition, just because he can backflip and do somersaults for fun. #weneedcash #dancedancebaby #Snowjanus #masterplan #withBobbinCornPoppy

Bobbin (Corn Poppy) with a very happy Coryo Snow. They won the underground dance competition and got some extra cash for the Tributes. Also, a jealous Sejanus took the photo out of spite. Now Bobbin is on Plinth’s hit list for touching his sugar baby fiancé without permission. #wewonbaby #wehavecash #Snowjanus #masterplan #youbetterwatchout #BobbinCornPoppy #Coryoismine!

Clemensia Dovecote got caught reading a banned book that was once owned by Dean Casca Highbottom when he was still dating the ever gorgeous Crassus Xanthos Snow. #allaboutlove #Crasca4Ever #bannedbook #gotanotherdemerit #sorrynotsorry

Mizzen the gremlin and Brandy Sharp Candy trying to act normal and posing for their respective Districts while touring the old Capitol train station with their Mentors. Honestly, they just want food and souvenirs to bring back home. #choochoo #nomoreHungerGames #touringtheCapitol #withourMentors #PercyPrice&rice

Facet and Velvereen posing inside Livia’s gigantic walk-in closet. They were the only Tributes to be invited by Mama Cardew because of their ✨fashionista✨ status. #Bestlooking #Tributes #DistrictOneforthewin #sponsoredbyMamaCardew #wegotthebanksbaby

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octoberclidan · 1 year

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Not Every Monster is a Monster

Request: they met in college Sam chooses Jessica but when she dies he goes off leaving reader and starts hunting with Dean little does he know reader started up hunting and they meet back up on a hunt. And they get together?

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Story:

It had to be a shifter. The guy had apparently been seen by his wife's friend getting coffee with another woman, when he swore he was at work on the other side of town. His wife had brushed it off, assuming her friend had just seen someone who looked like her husband. Then he was caught having dinner with another woman by his wife's sister when he swore he was at a bar on the other side of town with some old school friends. His wife's sister was adamant that she saw him, causing a lot of tension and stress on their relationship and leading to his wife asking for a separation. Then, to top it all off, he was caught on camera stealing from a convenience store when he said he was at home asleep. This lead to his arrest and to his wife officially asking for a divorce, and his job letting him go due to the bad publicity. The guy was desperate. He had been let go due it being a first offense and the fact that he was good friends with the sherrif, but he'd been posting online non-stop claiming his innocence since everyone in the small town was gossiping about him.

This was just the kind of case that [Y/N] was into. A bit of mystery, a helpless victim who wasn't dead, and a monster who was causing trouble but hadn't physically hurt anyone yet. This was the kind of hunt where she could go in and kill the monster before anyone was hurt. She had stopped in a small diner on her way to the location of the case, and was enjoying a nice lunch while lazily flicking through the photos on her phone. She'd scolled all the way back to her college years and was smiling at the memories. She looked at photos from parties that had gone on until morning, photos from movie nights that lasted the entire night, picnics in the park on sunny afternoons. She hadn't seen any of her college friends in a long time. She hadn't really seen any friends in years, she just hunted monsters. Ever since she went home to visit her family during a semester break to find that they'd all been eaten by monsters, she just hunted.

As she scrolled through her old photos, her fingers flicking aimlessly across the screen, she suddenly stopped when she came across a picture from her 21st birthday. In the photo, she sat behind a giant chocolate cake, surrounded by a group of smiling friends. However, it wasn't the cake or the cheap decorations that caught her eye, but the tall figure grinning at the edge of the frame; Sam Winchester. He towered over everyone else in the picture, his smile completely genuine and care free.

[Y/N] felt a sudden pang of nostalgia wash over her as she looked at the picture more carefully. They had shared a brief fling during their first year of college, but it had never developed into anything more since [Y/N] wanted to focus on college, not boys. Sam had caught the eye of Jessica around the same time, and the two of them had started dating after Sam and [Y/N]'s discussion about relationships. [Y/N] and Sam had remained friends, often hanging out together as part of the same group of friends. That is, until Jessica's tragic death in a fire, and Sam's subsequent disappearance.

As she thought back to those dark days, [Y/N] remembered how she had tried to reach out to Sam, sending him texts and voice messages to check up on him, but had never received a response. It was as if he had vanished into thin air. She wondered what had happened to him, and where he was now. Jessica had told her that he'd gone off with his brother, something about their dad going missing during a hunting trip. Had he found his dad? Was he still on the road? Had something happened to him too? Why hadn't he shown up to Jessica's funeral? Why had no one ever heard from him again? The questions swirled around in her mind, unanswered and unresolved. She even remembered a rumour that Sam had something to do with Jessica's death, but she never believed that. Sam was a good guy, a good friend, and it was clear to anyone around them that he loved Jessica and would never hurt her.

Snapping out of her thoughts when she realised she'd finished her food, she put her phone back into her pocket, paid, and made her way out to her car ready to start the next leg of her journey. It was only another couple of hours to the town she was heading to, she'd planned to get there mid-afternoon and go to the victim's house to ask him some questions. It was a nice day for driving; clear and no chance of rain but the sun wasn't glaring, the roads weren't busy, and she was able to just enjoy her music. She had a good feeling about this hunt.

***

When she turned a corner and spotted the victim's house, she noted a red jeep parked in the driveway, and there was an older black Impala sitting just beside the kerb. She pulled in behind the impala and got out, collecting her notepad and silver pen, checking herself out in her wing mirror to make sure she looked presentable and could pass as a reporter. She admired the black car as she walked passed it, clearly whoever owned it cared about it considering how clean it was. She made her way to the front door and knocked. Several moments later it opened to a man; she recognised him as the victim from the reports she'd read.

"Hi! Mr. Murphy, is it?"

"Yes, can I help you?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I'm a reporter and I read about your story. I thought it sounded very interesting and hadn't been covered enough, I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about what you've been dealing with? Being impersonated?"

"Oh, well that timing is a real coincidence, no one has wanted to talk to me about it for weeks and now I'm actually in the middle of talking to two reporters and a third shows up at the same time?" He chuckled but opened his door farther, gesturing for her to come inside. "Come on in". He smiled at her. Feeling a bit of apprehension now that two real reporters were here and would probably spot that she didn't quite act like a professional reporter, she took a deep breath and smiled back at him before stepping inside. He lead the way through to the kitchen, where she saw two men sitting down at the table. There was one with short hair who smiled at her when she walked in; he was very handsome. The other however, stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes widened when she saw him, and his did the same when he saw her. Noticing the look they were sharing, the shorter haired man cleared his throat.

"I'm Dean". He said, standing up and reaching out to shake her hand. Keeping her hand in his, he turned back to his partner. "This is-"

"Sam". [Y/N] breathed out, and Dean looked back to her.

"You know each other?" He asked before looking back to Sam.

"Uh, yeah, college". Sam said, now also standing up and walking over to [Y/N]. "It's nice to see you again". He said. He stood a bit awkwardly behind Dean, not knowing if he should shake her hand too, and knowing that a hug might seem a bit weird after all the time that had gone by since they'd last seen each other. Especially weird since he'd disappeared after his girlfriend had died and hadn't answered any of [Y/N]'s texts.

"Well, why don't we all take a seat and get back to it?" Mr Murphy clapped his hands behind them and pulled out a chair for [Y/N], which she took, still keeping her eyes on Sam. "I was just telling these boys about how I couldn't have robbed that convenience store since I was at home!" Mr. Murphy dove into a story about everything he'd done that day, from his morning walk to taking a shower to going to a different convenience store that afternoon, to going home and watching TV until he fell asleep. [Y/N] scribbled down a few notes here and there, but she was looking at Sam and Dean the whole time. Dean definitely matched Jessica's description of Sam's brother, and looking at the two of them they looked related. Why would Sam be working as a reporter with his brother? What happened to his career in law? Where had he been all this time? After a few more stories about being seen somewhere he wasn't, and a few questions from [Y/N], she thanked Mr. Murphy for his time and picked up her notebook. Both and Sam and Dean stood up at the same time and all of them walked out together, Mr. Murphy letting them know that if they had any other questions they could call him, and to send him any articles they write about him.

Once he'd closed the door, [Y/N] began walking back to her car, but Sam called after her. "Hey! Wait a minute, can I talk to you?" She turned around a folded her arms, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Now you want to talk to me?"

"Look, I'm sorry I just took off, and I'm sorry I didn't answer your texts. I was going through a bit of a family emergency". He walked closer to her, and she was reminded just how tall he was as he looked down at her with a puppy dog expression.

"Your girlfriend died Sam, and then no one ever heard from you again. We all lost two friends, and you've what, been working as a reporter with your brother all this time?"

"I'm sorry [Y/N], really, I am". He scratched the back of his neck and briefly looked back to see Dean was waiting by the car before looking back down at her. "Why are you working as a reporter? And on this case? You know the guy's either lying or crazy right, he can't be in two places at once". He forced a laugh.

"I think everyone deserves to be listened to".

"I uh, guess so. So you got everything you need?" He asked, looking over to Dean again who was now waiting inside the Impala.

"I think I'm gonna stick around for a bit, do a bit of investigating and see what's going on actually".

"Look, I think this guy's dangerous, he's obviously some sort of criminal. Why don't you just write your article and move on? Dean and I have this one".

"What, you want the inside scoop to yourself? No thanks, I'm gonna keep digging. You're right though, guy could be dangerous so maybe you two should move along". She smiled at him and he raised his eyebrows and scoffed. "Hey, I noticed when shaking his hand, your brother Dean, is his ring made of silver?" She asked, and Sam tilted his head in confusion.

"Uh, yeah it is, why?"

"Did he shake Mr. Murphy's hand?"

"Why?"

"Just curious about something, did he?" Sam didn't answer straight away and glanced back once more to Dean before taking a step closer to [Y/N].

"Tell me why you're so interested in whether or not the guy touched silver". He took another step so there was barely any space between them, and she had to bend back slightly to look at him.

"Just working on a theory". She stared back into his eyes, not backing down or breaking eye contact. Sam scoffed again.

"You're hunting".

"What?"

"Oh come on [Y/N], don't play dumb. You're in this middle of nowhere town, interviewing a guy who's claiming there is another version of him out there causing trouble, and you want to know if he had a reaction to touching silver. You think he's a shifter, you're here to hunt". He crossed his arms and gave her a knowing look and she finally broke eye contact and looked away towards Dean. Now it was her turn to scoff.

"You're hunters, you and Dean". She looked back up at him. "Jessica said you left with your brother to find your dad on a 'hunting' trip. He wasn't hunting deer, was he?"

"How did you, of all people, get caught up in this?" He asked her, avoiding her questions again.

"Not long after Jessica died and you left, I went home to visit my family. I found them dead in the house, turned out to be ghouls trying out some fresh meat for a change". Sam's expression softened to one of sympathy and he sighed. "Had to kill them even though they looked like my dead family".

"I'm sorry to hear that [Y/N], really I am". He reached out tentatively and placed a hand on her shoulder. His soft expression made him look younger, more like the Sam she used to know. "Do you want to uh, work this thing with me? Me and Dean, I mean. Whoever you're working with is welcome to join to".

"Thanks, but working alone is more my thing".

"You're here on your own? That's dangerous [Y/N]!" He took his hand back and widened his eyes at her.

"This shifter hasn't actually hurt anyone. I don't hunt really dangerous things on my own. But something like this where the monster is just a dick? I can do that on my own".

"You're just assuming it's a shifter. We haven't verified anything other than the fact that the man in that house isn't anything that reacts to silver. Work with us on this one, we can catch up?"

She looked back at Dean and smiled before glancing up at Sam again. "You do have a hot brother, I guess I wouldn't mind spending some time with both of you". She turned around to face her car, missing the flash of jealously on Sam's face. She turned around when she got to her door. "I'll follow you guys, you can lead the way to wherever we're going".

"Motel" Sam muttered and then cleared his throat, trying to shake that jealousy away. "Uh, we're going to head to our motel. We got some security footage of the robbery and we're going to review it".

"Cool, see you there". She smiled at him and got into her car, leaving him standing there trying to comprehend the fact that his old friend from college was now a hunter.

***

[Y/N] drove behind them to the motel, and stopped by the reception area to book a room for herself since she'd need a place to sleep later, and she may as well stay in the same place as the brothers. After checking out her room, she knocked on the brother's door and Dean answered. "Hey". He smirked down at her before stepping back and letting her in. Sam was sitting at a small table looking at his laptop, and he looked up just in time to catch Dean staring at her from behind and she walked through the door and over to Sam. Feeling that pang of jealousy again, he cleared his throat and smiled at her.

She sat down beside him and he angled his laptop towards her. Dean stood behind her with one hand on the back of her chair as he leaned over her to see the screen too, an action which Sam found himself not liking. He clicked play and they watched the footage. A man who appeared to be Mr. Murphy walked in and and could clearly be seen placing items from the shelves inside his coat pockets. He then walked up to the cash register while the store keeper was distracted talking to another customer, reached over and grabbed some cash from the till, and left the store. "Pause it, just before he turns away from the register". Dean said, and Sam rewound the video. "There". Dean pointed at the screen, it had paused just as Mr. Murphy glanced at the camera. "Retinal flare, that's a shifter alright".

Sam shifted back in his chair to face [Y/N] and Dean, instantly reminded of how close Dean was to her. "Right, so how do we find this thing?"

"Sewers, right? They like making lairs in there. This guy hasn't caused any trouble in a few days that we know of, maybe he's taking some time out?" [Y/N] said.

"So you're familiar with shifters then?" Dean asked and she looked up at him, Sam now very uncomfortable with the lack of space between their faces.

"I've hunted a few, yeah". She smiled at him and Sam cleared his throat yet again, standing up and forcing Dean to stand back up too to give him space. "I'll just go get changed into something I don't mind getting dirt on, I'll meet you both outside in like fifteen minutes?" She asked and they both agreed.

***

They had decided just to take the Impala, Sam had found the closest entrance to the sewer network and the plan was for the three of them to stick together, carry silver knives and bullets, not die, and kill the shifter; fairly straightforward. Dean was driving with Sam beside him, and [Y/N] in the back. The short drive was a little bit awkward at first, with none of them really knowing what to talk about, until Sam broke the silence talking about a previous experience with a shifter. He then asked [Y/N] about her experiences, using it as an excuse to turn around in his seat and look at her properly. They spent the rest of the drive telling each other about their previous encounters with shifters and similar creatures, and [Y/N] learned that the brothers had hunted pretty much everything.

They parked just outside the entrance to the sewer network, and made their way inside. Dean started to complain about the smell when Sam shushed him, and [Y/N] had to hold back a giggle at their brotherly behaviour. They walked in silence, weapons at the ready, taking turns to look around each corner. It was only ten minutes in when Dean slipped and fell on his back, [Y/N] and Sam immediately rushing to his side. [Y/N] leaned down to help Dean up but Sam grabbed her arm and stopped her. "You don't wanna touch that, trust me". He said quietly to her. When she looked back at Dean, she noticed that he was covered in some sort of slime.

"Ugh, gross". Dean whined as he wiped what looked like a piece of flesh off his arm, then some hair off his shoulder. He stood up and stepped out of the slime, making sure to stay away from the other two.

"Shifter's shed its skin apparently, guess we could be looking for anyone now". Sam said as he let go of [Y/N]'s arm. "Come on, let's keep going". The three of them continued along the path they were walking, ensuring that Dean was keeping a good distance behind them as both [Y/N] and Sam complained about the smell, and the two of them shared a laugh at Dean's expense. They were turning a corner when Sam's arm shot up to block [Y/N], and she saw a woman sitting on the ground.

"See anything?" Dean asked as he caught up to them, his voice causing the woman to snap her head towards them and scramble to get up. Sam pointed his gun at her and slowly walked towards her, [Y/N] and Dean both following behind.

"Stay back!" She shouted, walking backwards until she hit the wall behind her.

"You're the shifter?" Sam asked, taking another step towards her. To [Y/N]'s surprise, the woman nodded in confirmation. [Y/N] raised her gun to point it at the shifter too but Sam shook his head at her. Looking at him in confusion, Sam took another step towards the woman. "You killed anyone?"

"No! I've never hurt anyone, I swear!"

"What about Mr. Murphy? You've got his wife to leave him and got him arrested". [Y/N] asked as she raised her gun at the shifter again but Sam shook his head again.

"Let her explain". He said.

"What?"

"I said let her explain". He looked back at the shifter. "Go on".

"He took everything from me. I needed to get back at him, it was personal. I swear, I don't hurt people. I keep to myself".

"What did he take from you?"

"My son".

"What?" [Y/N] now lowered her gun, as did Sam.

"Our son. We had a son together, he didn't know what I was. I kept one form for my entire adult life, this one". She said as she gestured at herself. "We fell in love, we had a child. We were so happy when James was born, he was so happy. A few days later James shifted for the first time, and he freaked out. I tried to explain it to him, to show him that we weren't monsters, but he didn't listen. He killed my baby". A tear escaped from her eye and she quickly wiped it away to continue with her explanation. "I left, scared for my own life, and I grieved on my own. I recently found out that he remarried, that he was happy, and I just needed him to hurt. I broke up his marriage, I got him arrested, I got him fired. I'm finished now, I'm leaving tomorrow, I promise".

Sam looked back at Dean who nodded at him. "Okay, okay. If we ever see you causing trouble again, we will hunt you down, no second chances. You understand?" He said and the shifter immediately nodded at him.

"We're just gonna let her go?" [Y/N] looked between the two brothers in confusion. Any hunter she'd ever worked with before had killed anything that wasn't human, not asking questions later; never asking any questions.

"Yes, just this once. No harm has been done to anyone who didn't deserve it. Come on, let's go, I need a shower". Dean said, making a point of glaring at the shifter as he put his gun back in his waistband, and she cringed and apologised. They left the shifter there and made their way back to the car.

"You guys do that often? Find the monster and then not kill it?" [Y/N] asked as she got into the back seat.

"Not every monster is a monster. We used to shoot first, ask questions later, but we've learned a lot over the years. One of our good friends is even a werewolf". Dean said to her, looking at her in the rearview mirror as he pulled out into the road and chuckling at her surprised expression. The journey back to the motel was spent by [Y/N] asking them about the various monsters that they'd let go, helped, or even worked with. She found herself admiring them, especially Sam as he showed his compassionate nature as he spoke of his experiences.

They all piled into the boys' room when they arrived back at the motel, Dean immediately making his way to the shower and grumbling about having to clean the car after. "That hunt was... different". [Y/N] said as she sat down at the table they'd watched the security tape on earlier.

"Best case scenario, right? No death, on any side". Sam smiled at her and sat down opposite her.

"What happend, Sam?" [Y/N] asked.

"What do you mean?"

"To Jessica? To you? Where'd you go? Was her death an accident or did something get her?" Sam sighed and looked away for a moment.

"To be honest, it's a long story".

"Can you tell me? I lost two good friends, and I'm thrilled to see that you're okay, but I have so many questions".

"I know, and I'm sorry. I genuinely am, I should've answered your texts to say I was okay. I'll tell you everything, I promise, but can we do it tomorrow? Today has been a good day, and I'd like for it to stay that way". He gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, of course. Sorry. I'll uh, see you guys tomorrow?" [Y/N] asked as she stood up. She realised that they hadn't seen each other in years, maybe he didn't want to go into personal details with her at all, maybe she'd overstayed her welcome. They were essentially strangers after all this time anyway, she didn't want to step over any boundaries.

"Oh, sure, yeah". Sam stood up and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and they walked to the door. "Hope your room is nice". He said as she stepped outside.

"Yeah... I think they're all pretty much the same". She laughed awkwardly. "See you". She said began walking away. She hadn't noticed that Dean had come out of the shower in time to notice their awkward exchange, and was rolling his eyes at them. Sam closed the door and [Y/N] let herself into her room, which was only next door to the brothers. She had a shower and changed into a pair of light shorts and a t-shirt. She was about to order some food when there was a knock on her door. Looking through the peep hole, she was surprised to see Sam standing there. "Hey?" She asked as she opened the door.

"Hey". He smiled down at her. "Uh, so I had a bit of a talk with Dean, and in his words you and I have been 'staring longingly at each other all day like a damn chick-flick'". He chuckled, and [Y/N] felt her cheeks heat up. "I do want this day to continue being a good one, and I was just wondering if you maybe wanted to get some food with me?"

"Uh, yeah I was actually about to order some". She said, avoiding his gaze as she was sure he would see the blush on her cheeks. "Come in". She stumbled slightly as she stepped back to let Sam in, and he reached forward to grab her arms to stop her from falling back. She felt stupid, like a teenager with a crush. She was a hunter, she didn't get shy or awkward around men, why was she suddenly so clumsy? She cursed herself for acting so childish when she was pulled from her thoughts by the sudden feeling of soft lips against hers. Her eyes widened as she realised Sam was kissing her. When she didn't kiss back, he pulled away and looked down at her.

"Shit, sorry I-I'm sorry". He took a step back but [Y/N] shook her head and lifted her arms to loop around his neck, pulling him back down to her and kissing him. Both of their eyes fluttered closed and Sam kissed her back, more hungry than his first kiss. He pressed his hands to her hips and walked her backwards, kicking the door closed behind him. He walked her over to the bed, not breaking the kiss, and turned them around so he could sit on the bed and pull her onto his lap. She straddled him as he moved his hands up under he shirt, holding her close to his body. He licked her lip and she let him in straight away. His hands moved further up her body and she lifted her arms so he could pull her shirt off, finally breaking the kiss as he pulled it off over her head. He threw it onto the floor before ducking down and kissing her neck. She moaned softly as she pushed her hands into his hair, tugging slightly and making him moan back. "Take my shirt off too". He mumbled into her neck, giving her goosebumps as his hands ran up and down her sides. She nodded and lifted his shirt off over his head, throwing it behind her to land on top of hers. She couldn't help but stare at his muscles, and her fingers traced over his tattoo.

"What is it?" She whispered.

"Anti-possession tattoo, keeps demons out". He said and moved his kisses down to her collar bone. "You should get one too". He pulled back and leaned back on the bed, pulling her down on top of him. He pushed her hair back behind her ears and she smiled down at him. "We should work together more often". He said, and she nodded before he rolled them over so she was on his back and he was hovering over her. "This is gonna be a very good ending to a good day".

The end

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