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mammomlette · 13 days

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OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3(WIP rn)]

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

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darlingmbappe · 1 year

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When We’re Ready [1] | Kylian Mbappé x Fem Reader

[Part One] [Part Two]

Summary: Kylian's blatant desire for a baby has your head spinning. Though, you must say, he is quite convincing...

Warnings: SMUT! Minors, go away. Penatrative sex, oral (female receiving), groping (semi-public), breeding kink, cussing, horny mfs, kinda cringe and cheesy but I stand by it. Let me know if I missed anything! – English is not my first language. –

Masterlist

Kylian was easy to read. His expressive face always gave him away; scrunching and elongating against his will. Even when he was meant to hide his true feelings in certain situations, there was always a little twinge of the eyebrow or crook of the lip to let you know exactly what he was thinking.

Maybe you just knew him too well, spent too much time with his elastic face to pick up on the micro expressions that made it possible to know his mood at any time. But, something was different about tonight. Cheeky? Yes. Pensive? For sure. Annoyed? Maybe… It was hard to say with the way he stared at you from the bed. One hand propping up his heavy head while he watched you intently putting lotion on.

This expression was new.

“Babe?” You call, rubbing together the leftover lotion on your hands, sitting in front of him on the bed. “You okay?”

“Mhm.” He hums, still seeming out of it as he shifts and stares at the TV now, though it only reflects a dark image of himself back at him, seeing as it wasn’t even turned on.

You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t buy it. Something’s on your mind.” You take your rings and earrings off, setting them in your jewelry catcher by your nightstand. Kylian stayed quiet as you got under the covers, drawing his attention back to you.

When he didn’t give you any sort of answer, you had no choice but to scroll on your phone in an attempt to ignore the burning stare that came from your husband's side of the bed. Eventually, it was impossible to pretend you didn’t feel his eyes dead set on your face. You shut your cell off and set your phone on your stomach, looking directly at him, your sudden view shift taking him by surprise. “Okay, seriously. What?”

“Nothing.” You catch a smirk barely grazing his lips before he just shakes his head, turning and switching off his bedside lamp, cozying up under the duvet. “Don’t worry about it.”

You huff and sneer at his answer, shutting off your lamp as well, curling up with an obvious annoyance at the lack of information. “He thinks I'm not gonna worry about it.” You mumble to yourself passive aggressively, your back turned to him. “You’re being weird. I don’t like it.”

“I'm not being weird.”

“Are too.”

Kylian stared at the back of your head, quiet as he slowly reached for your waist, effectively pulling your body up against his to share his warmth.

“Oh, so now you wanna cuddle?” You grumble, settling in comfortably despite the bite that laced your words.

He kissed your hair, lost in his own racing mind, not fully convinced he should bring this up to you tonight. Your annoyance was surface level, nothing he was deeply concerned about because he felt the way you relaxed against his own muscles, letting his arms act as your blanket.

He was sure that the thoughts that persist in his skull had crossed your mind as well. As he lay there with you, the love of his life, he let his brain think without hesitation; no if’s or but’s, no playing devil's advocate with himself. He let himself indulge in the future fantasy that he had dreamed of since he was a small boy. He felt lucky he had you in all of his delusions, always right there with him. You’re around in every scenario he makes up; ever present, making you laugh, making you swoon. He feels so lucky that you stand with him in the tangible world as well, looking better than anything he comes up with in his mind. Saying funnier things, sweeter things.

As your breathing stables, he’s not sure if you’re fully asleep yet, or how long the silence has even run for. His throat would close at the words when you were awake and responsive, but now that he couldn’t tell, it was easier to whisper them to your sleeping figure – nothing holding him back from telling you his little secret.

“Let’s have a baby.”

His voice could have been mistaken as a sigh as he breathed the words gently into your ear… but you heard them.

Your eyes shot open wide, the air becomes harder to take in your lungs at the shock, laying still in his arms. Slowly, you lift your head and stare back at him. He feels just as shocked upon seeing that you’re actually awake, gulping at the confession he let slip.

He knew you wanted kids, just like he did. You’ve been married just about four months and had previously talked about waiting two years or so to start a family. The pair of you agreed stability in the home was necessary before bringing a child into it – which was fair enough – but his baby fever was deadly. There wasn't anything he could do to keep away the images of little toes, and bassinets, and rolls on their tummy, and dimples on their legs and… just everything. He wanted to see them grow up. He wanted to debate you on who they got it from. He was prepared to do anything for that baby, and the baby itself is just a thought. A sweet little figment of his imagination… but they already had your eyes.

“Did I hear you right?” You sleepily mumble, feeling his grip on you grow tighter and his heartbeat quickening just a smidge.

He kisses your sleepy cheek, resting his face against yours as his arms wrap more securely around you. “Oui, mon coeur. I want a baby with you.” He repeated, voice still soft.

“You think now is a good time for us?”

“Mm…” He ponders a moment. “I think so.”

“Is this what you were thinking about?”

He kisses your shoulder. “Yeah. Been thinking it for a while.”

“A while…”

“A month or two.” Kylian shrugs like it's casual… like it hasn't completely taken over his brain from the second he saw you walk down the aisle. “Imagine our little family. Just the three of us." He lets the silence marinate, unsure of whether or not you've fallen asleep on him. "Don't you think?" He squeezes you gently, needing to keep this conversation going now that it's started.

You burrow your back into him to let him know you're still lucid. "Yeah. Just the three of us... but... is now the time to bring a baby into the world?"

His sigh sounds defeated, tickling your face. “You don’t think it is…”

“I don’t know… I haven’t really thought about it.” You admit, looking at him once more. His eyebrows furrow and now you can read him clearly.

The overthinking face.

Despite being confident in himself and his actions in pretty much every aspect of his life, Kylian is a chronic overthinker. He’ll let his thoughts drag him into a darker place. He begins to question little comments or actions that he wouldn’t have thought twice about if the little voice in his head would just leave him alone. The crease between his eyebrows tilt upward, his tongue finds his top row of teeth, his stare points away to a still object that will allow him to daze off into the flying spiral of introspection.

You tap your finger on his chin to get him to look back at you so you could ground him. “I have thought about it. A lot. Just not so much recently…” You say, not only doing damage control on your last comment, but a true statement on the topic of family that you’re interested in exploring further. “With the wedding, moving, family stuff, you know. Everything’s a little jumbled right now.”

The gears turn in his head and he purses his lips. “No, I get it.” He sighs deeply. “I guess you’re right.” You turn in his arms, now curled into his chest. He kisses your forehead before resting his chin on it, engulfing your body completely in his. “But, maybe two years is a little long to wait.”

“Yeah, I agree. Who knows if we’ll even still be together by then.” You grin mischievously into his skin and feel the vibration of his deep chuckle from your obvious joke.

“Shut up.”

You move your head so you could look at him, pressing a kiss to his chapped and upturned lips. “Let’s give it until the end of the summer. That’s like, what, three months? If we both feel like the time is right, then we start trying, For real.”

He closes his eyes to feel your presence in his, content enough with the compromise. Isn’t that what marriage is all about, anyway?

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You up for a little practice?”

“Practice?”

He rubs a firm hand down your back, letting it rest lower than it was before. “Just a little refresher…”

You caught on, rolling your eyes as he pulls away to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

“Ky, if anything, you’re a little over-practiced in that department.”

“No such thing, baby. Take it from me, I’m an athlete.” He smirks cheekily, letting only one finger run against your skin, tracing where the hem of your tank top had been resting on your hip. He dipped it lower and pulled up at the waistband of your underwear, letting it snap back gently, stinging only slightly but your sleepy state caused you to feel it ripple through you like he had whipped you.

“Hm…” You were sleepy, sure… but Kylian dipped his face into your neck. His lips could not have been more supple against your skin. The open mouth kisses he placed were gentle, soft, beyond seductive. Your eyes shut against your will at the feeling, his large palm flat against your side and moving up under the material that separated his bare chest from yours, tongue prodding out just slightly to taste your skin. “... I guess we can practice. Just a little…”

That night changed everything for you.

You see babies everywhere now, it’s like the population multiplied overnight. There was nothing that could stop you from cooing at their tiny socks and chubby ankles, the sound of their giggle echoing through the grocery store, their innocent little smiles when they looked at their mommy or daddy… God, does everyone have a damn baby but you?

The months went on and the late summer sun was hotter than it had ever been. At least for as long as you’d lived in Paris. You could barely walk outside for the mail without sweating and needing a shower. You verbally thanked the heavens you weren't pregnant right now, not being able to imagine carrying a human inside of you with all of this heat. Kylian brushed it off, still holding out hope for a new addition to the Mbappe household.

Kylain might be an extremely intelligent man, but, boy… subtlety is not his strong suit. It started with him leaving open baby magazines on the kitchen counter, flipped to the cutest, smallest, chunkiest little one they had on print. He’d send you baby TikTok videos with a message that read “do you like this color for the living room walls?”

In his defense, he was never trying to be subtle. He continued to think about what you said that night he first mentioned trying, and he still thinks that bringing a baby into the mix is right for you two. He tried to chop it down to his social media algorithm sabotaging him with constant baby content or maybe the honeymoon phase after the wedding had him feeling this strongly, but those explanations just didn’t feel right. After knowing you for six years and getting to love you for almost all of that time, he was eager to create a family with you right in the center of it.

The baby discussion had made a sharp turn at some point this last month. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when it all went from questioning every aspect of your life together and reasoning with one another about very serious doubts and scenarios, to unhinged conversations about things that just caused you to giggle. Things like: where the pair of you would bring your newborn on their first vacation, what their first word would be, if they’d follow in Kylians footsteps, how much money the tooth fairy would give them for their first lost tooth.

It’s safe to say, you finally came to the silent conclusion that you were ready – but that realization couldn't have come at a more awkward time.

Dinner with his whole side of the family was a blessing for you both. It wasn’t very often that every schedule cleared up in the same time frame. A large restaurant section was rented out in the heart of Paris for family and friends to get together. It was a nice time to make conversation and catch up on everything life had churned out since the last time you’d seen each other. The appetizers were spectacular, the drinks were doing their job, it was all so nice…

… Except that nothing – yes, nothing – is more awkward than being unstoppably horny for your husband in front of his entire family. You cut yourself off after martini number three when you noticed it was turning your brain into goo. The buzz wasn't enough to make you drool and incoherent, but seeing your Kylian playing with his niece and nephew, picking them up and turning them upside down, pressing affectionate smooches to their bulbous cheeks… drooling and incherency was not far behind.

He was going to be such a good dad. He was already the most caring husband, even with all of his responsibilities and commitments. He found time for you in every sliver of open space in his schedule, needing to soak up quality time with his wife as if it were as necessary as air.

The entrées began to come out as everyone took their respective seats. Kylian was still oblivious to the googly eyes you’d been throwing in his direction all night, but it wasn’t long after he sat down that he caught on.

He leans over to whisper to you, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I know that look. Very well.”

You shudder at his breath tickling your skin. Flustered beyond belief, you could only manage to shake your head, letting out a shy and breathy laugh.

Kylian bit his lip and snickered along with you, setting his hand on your knee and faces forward. His touch was hot. A skillet off of the stove would have sent the same wave of heat all the way up your limbs. You reach for the water on the table, positive that the fierce blush overtaking your face would be obvious to anyone who decided to look at you in your current state. His long fingers began moving against your knee, tracing mindless patterns that only sent you more goosebumps. He knew that every gentle touch or fragment of affection he would give you right now would be heightened tenfold… he loved knowing that you were putty in his hands. He knew your mind – and right now, he had completely taken over it.

“Feeling okay, mon amour?” The sly smirk on his face gave him away. He was just teasing you, and Lord, does he love teasing. His hand moves upward to your midthigh, stopping and moving his thumb up and down above your dress, crinkling the material. “You’re looking a little flushed.”

You’d been avoiding eye contact, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of your needy gaze. “Kylian, stop it. Your mom’s sitting right there.” You reprimand in a soft voice, not wanting to raise any attention to the pair of you up to nothing decent.

“I’m not doing anything.” He chuckles, moving his hand a little higher. You suck in a sharp breath as he leans into your ear again. “Won’t you look at me, bébé?”

You shake your head no, feeling quite shy as your throat dries up. You clear your throat discreetly and reach for the cold water once more, but Kylians hand grabs your palm, bringing it to his lips. “Let me see those eyes, baby.” He mumbled against your hand. His back was turned to the rest of the table, acting as a human curtain for your obvious discomposure.

You roll your eyes before looking at him. You tried your best to give him a scolding look, but the second you saw that same glimmer in his eye that matched yours, your current sensitivities doubled down. The pace of your heart heightened quickly, the warmth in your cheeks increasing by the second.

You felt like leaning in to kiss his lips. He licked them right when he took a quick glance at your own, your hand still taken in his.

“Your eggplant parmesan, madame.” You didn’t even see the waiters bringing out the entrées being too engrossed in Kylian's burning stare. You smile up and thank her then look around the table. You’d forgotten that there were other people there for a second, much less his family. His mom, dad, nieces, nephews, aunties – distant or otherwise… You had to pull yourself together before they caught on to your overly horny demeanor.

Kylian took his hand off your thigh when his chicken alfredo was placed in front of him, noticing how you sat up straighter. For now, he’d let you do your best to make regular conversation with his cousins that sat across from the both of you, but he noticed how tightly your legs were crossed together. He saw your eyes dart away from his whenever you turned his way. When he brushed your pinky on the table before engulfing your hand, you took in a sharp breath. So sensitive.

He nodded toward your empty plate. “Feel like turning in early, mon coeur?”

You raised a brow at him. “Ky, you sure? Your whole family’s here. Don’t you wanna stay a little longer?”

He shrugs. “We’ve been mingling for like,” he looks at his watch, “almost three hours. Besides, I’m quite a bit distracted tonight.” He peeks down at your cleavage, darting his tongue out to wet his lips. “I think I wanna take you home.”

You shudder when he leans in and kisses the corner of your lips. To anyone watching, it’s a sweet gesture of affection, but to you… it was erotic. Sensual. It made you tighten your thighs even more.

His attention is taken back to the others at the table, letting them know that the two of you would be leaving a little early, blaming it on his morning training schedule. You two made your rounds to every seat, kissing cheeks and rubbing shoulders, making sure you left a good impression with each and every one of the members of the group.

He opened the car door for you, grabbing your hand to help you in, kissing your knuckles before hopping in the driver's seat. He weaved through traffic with a sure hand on your upper thigh, slowly and subconsciously getting higher and higher.

It’s unfair that he holds all the power right now – making you sweat and need him with every purposeful tap on your skin. The pads of his fingers migrated downward over your dress until it reached the hem of the frilly garment. His eyes were fixed on the red light in front of him as he let his hand travel under your dress – the simple skin to skin enough to invade you with goosebumps – feeling each and every one on the trail he formed toward your panties, toying with the band wrapped around your hip.

You didn’t even mean to swivel your hips closer to his hand, but when his forefinger traveled lightly to feel your slit over the elastic material, you couldn’t stop yourself. “Ky…” You whined as he wiggled his digit against you.

You look over to see his smirk facing forward, practically visualizing his ego growing at just your involuntary mewl. Looking at his lap, you saw the trace of his member was much too prominent to assume your neediness wasn’t affecting him. You reached over and took hold of it, gripping with a single squeeze that had his breath shake in surprise.

“Merde, cherie…” He hissed, taking sporadic peeks down at your hand as it rubbed him through the layer of cloth. It wasn’t responsible to grope him while he was behind the wheel, but the standstill traffic and ultra tinted windows lent you enough feelings of safety to continue your motions. You felt him getting harder as you pumped your fist as best you could over his stiff zipper.

Half his mind wanted to ask you to wait until you got home so he could shove you between him and the wall, feel, kiss, bite, lick every centimeter he saw… but how could he? Your fluttering lashes made him forget how to speak coherently. He just couldn’t resist you.

His personal fucking kryptonite.

There you both sat, hands on each other's most intimate parts in the center of traffic. It was kind of exciting that the people on the same road had no idea what was going on. That the thick steel doors and blackened windows were the only thing keeping them from seeing you throw your head back when he pressed on your clit. That they were oblivious to the sweet sounds that bubbled up from Kylians chest as you ran your knuckles over his tip, the hand that wasn’t lost under your otherwise innocent dress gripping the steering wheel so, so tightly.

Kylian took a quick and sharp left, finally away from the traffic going down the last road until you reached your private residence. His foot pressed all the way down on the pedal, impatiently rolling the stop signs. In any other scenario, it would make you nervous, but you truly didn't even notice the way he broke traffic laws once he had removed his hand in the urgency of it all.

You unbuckled as he drove down the last couple of blocks, leaning over the center console to attack his open neck, surely leaving a big purple bruise in your wake. Your hand wrapped around his face, pressing him further into you. He grunted and closed his eyes as soon as he put the car in park inside the garage, wasting no time grabbing for your leg so you could straddle him in the tall SUV.

Kylian hiked your dress up with his hand firmly placed on the globe of your ass, squeezing your flesh harshly as you grinded down onto him. With his lips now on your own, all the sounds of pleasure were muffled and smothered.

“J'ai tellement besoin de toi, putain.” I need you so fucking bad. His hands roamed higher around your waist as he got access to your neck.

“J'ai besoin que tu mettes un bébé en moi. C'est si dur.” I need you to put a baby in me. So bad. When you say these words, you feel him stiffen. His hands cease their movements, now only gripping you in place as he leans his head back to look at your face. He needed to see if you were joking or not. Breathless and completely earnest, you stare into his wide eyes, feeling the way the mood changed with just a single phrase.

He hints at a smile. “You’re serious?”

You nod, kissing the tip of his nose, brushing your thumb dearly on his cheekbone. “So serious.”

He grins happily, pure excitement behind his eyes as he rubs your back with an incredible gentleness. He’s overtaken with fondness as he leans in to kiss you again. He smiles into it, letting out a joyous giggle when he hugs you tightly.

He barely pulls back. “Let’s get you inside. My beautiful wife.”

He couldn’t keep his hands off of you as he hugs you down the hallway toward the master bedroom, taking small detours when he simply couldn't help himself; grasping your neck to kiss you lovingly, slowing down to press you against his front and whisper sweet things in your ear.

You half expected him to throw you on the bed, rip your dress off, and take you like it was an animalistic instinct. By his conduct in the restaurant and in the car, you’d expect nothing less than a rough and primal fuck.

But, no. He walked you backward toward the bed, only staring into your eyes adoringly as he lifted you up to lay your head down on the pillow comfortably.

He kissed you once before just looking at you on the mattress, knees turned in and pathetic little squirm demanding its way through your limbs. Your pretty purple dress was now wrinkled and twisted, halfway up your thigh, straps hanging loosely off your shoulder.

He beamed, deciding to sit on his knees with you in between him as he began undoing his white dress shirt, button by button, eyes never leaving yours. Your grabby hands untucked the material from his pants, matching his slower pace as you undid the buckle of his belt.

Once his shirt just hung on his shoulders, he placed two warm hands on your legs, allowing them to wander up and up, the material of your dress all scrunched up in their path. He unveiled your body to his hungry eyes, tapping the side of your ribs so you’d sit up and let him take it off of you completely. You both giggled softly when it finally went over your face, disheveling your hair in the process. Kylian brushed it all away from your features, grabbing your face sweetly and laying you back down, noses only an inch away as he balanced his body on top of yours.

“Mon amour.” He mumbled adoringly, brushing his nose with yours, grazing your lips slightly. “We’re really doing this.”

You just smile, pecking the cheesy wide grin that had taken over his features. “We’re ready.” You confirm, wrapping both your arms around his neck.

He slowly made his way down your body, inch by inch, kiss by kiss. His tongue made soft and swift circles on your left nipple, your other being pinched and soothed by his strong fingers. As he ventured further, he placed his palms firmly on your tummy, kissing it so tenderly, as if to prepare a space for his future baby. Blessing it’s temporary home before they even had the chance to get there.

“You’re going to look so pretty when I get you pregnant.” The words were strangled between the emotions in his voice and the ringing in your own ears; the pressure of his lowering hands making your head spin.

He tossed his shirt aside along with his pants when he reached your underwear, placing himself with purpose as he began pulling down the lacy garment. He hummed delightedly when a string of your slick clung onto the material. You showcased your pussy to him like he paid for it, jutting your hips toward him with pure need.

“You’re so fucking wet.” He murmured as he ran a finger through your folds, just to tease, perceptive to the shiver that formed a sweet noise from your chest.

Without needing further instruction, he kitten licked your clit, gently sucking on it now and then. You turned your head into the silk pillow, letting it catch most of the crude noises you were making for the man between your legs. With his arms securely wrapped around your thighs, he pressed his face further into your core, shaking his head back and forth before adding two fingers.

“God – fuck, Ky.” The abstruse praises spewed out of you when he curled his long, long fingers up, pumping them as they hooked inside your rigid walls.

He pulled them out too quickly for your liking, taking his magic tongue with him as he stared down at your pussy. He stretched your skin apart with his thumbs, playing with you for his own visual gratification before slowly inserting three fingers inside at once. He watched them intently disappear into you, then quickly looking at your face that twisted in delight as he stretched you open – preparing you for his thick member.

You wailed in pleasure, your hands gripping the sheets until your knuckles turned white. “Oh my god, Kylian.” How he loved hearing you moan out his name. It only made him need you more, staring up at you dotingly past your stomach. “Please, baby… I need you.” You begged.

His fingers slow down before leaving you bare. He watched your empty pulsing hole for only a second, licking his fingers clean as he shuffled around to be on top of you once more.

He hovered over you, staring deeply into your eyes. You sighed in contentment at his gazing, allowing one of your hands to go astray to lower his boxer briefs over his ass, pulling down the front as well. You took hold of his thick and hard cock, pumping it while keeping eye contact with your lover. It was so beautiful to observe the tiny fragments of expressions that waved over his face. The microscopic twinges of his eyelids, the slight curve that forms between his eyebrow, the gentle pursing of his lips.

You tugged him to your opening, running his dick along your soaked lips, lubricating it as you began to try and prod yourself open with him. Just the feeling of his tip beginning to enter your tight pussy had him shuddering. Kylian met your hand, helping it guide his cock to your entrance, slowly inserting his desperate mushroomhead.

He moved slightly, watching your expression for discomfort. “You’re so tight.” He huffed. Your hand stayed on his base, his small and paced movements still only to stretch you out for him. He felt the pads of your fingers as he shallowly pushed in and out of you.

“Faster.” You demanded, moving your hands to his ass to follow his movements.

He complied, heavy breathing fanning your face, his pace increasing, stuffing more of himself inside of you. Kylians eyes were shut tightly, head lulling down and occasionally planting a sloppy kiss on whatever skin happened to be closest to his parted lips. His arms shift into a plank position and he nuzzles his face in your neck, body pressed firmly against you – the beads of sweat on his muscles rubbing against your middle in tandem with his thrusts that still only went in halfway. With your hands still on the globes of his ass, you clenched and pushed him deeper with your palms.

He groans at the feeling, almost all the way inside of you. “You want it all? Huh?” He asks between gasps of air. “You want me to stretch out your tight little pussy. Take it.” He kisses you, tongue aggressively scouting your mouth. He lifts your legs up and sets them around his shoulders.

While staring into your eyes, he snaps his hips forward until his pelvic bone was pressed deliciously on your own.

“Fuck!” You scream, feeling him so, so deep inside of you. The slightly upward curve pinned against your g-spot as he stayed still in that position. The way your strained walls grabbed him and kept him buried inside made his eyes cross for a second. He tilted his head and kissed your left knee. Your foot grazed his back when he pulled out almost all the way, and, Christ… the look he gave you was debilitating when he thrusts back in.

When you say Kylian is easy to read, you really meant it. You could stare at his face for all of three seconds and gauge his mood. It was something he actually found a little annoying sometimes; coming home after a tough day and you’d force him to talk about it before he would even get a hello out. He could say he hated your perceptiveness all he wants, but he’ll never truly convince himself of that. He loved that he could communicate with you with just a simple impression on his features.

Now, he thrusted in and out, in and out as he gazed down at your hooded eyelids – and the look on his face was, again, one you've never seen before.

And despite this, you just knew what it meant. You felt it in your heart.

Love. Passion. Devotion. Care. Companionship. He'll be there for everything that is to come.

You saw your future in the shining glimmer in his irises. You saw everything.

Tears naturally welled in your eyes, one slipped, rolling down the side of your face. There was a glint of concern in Kylian as he slowed his unforgiving pace, but you moved your hips to keep him going.

He halted his motions and was about to ask you if you were okay or if you were hurt, but your hands cradled his face and you leaned up to peck his lips. “I just love you so much.” You say, answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet.

He lets out a deep sigh, wavering and telling. His thumb grazes over the trail of your tear, then leaves it there to stroke your skin. You gave him a light and playful spank on his right butt cheek, making you both giggle. He leaned down and kissed you feverishly – smooching once, twice, three times and pulling back only slightly.

“I love you. Je t'aime. Dieu, je t'aime tellement.” I love you. God, I love you so much. He planted sweet kisses all over your face, still smiling. “Tu es tout pour moi.” You are everything to me.

He pulled completely out of you, leaving you empty. A whine bubbled out of your chest and Kylian traced over the crease that had formed between your eyebrows, just before inserting himself back. Your mouth opened in pleasure, a moan stuck inside your throat as he gradually powered through your tight walls, inch by fucking inch. It was a feeling of complete satisfaction when his tip collided with your sweet spot once more. Even better when the drag of his thrusts nudged it over, and over, and over, A slow pace. A gentle pace. A pace that he felt necessary for the beginning of this new chapter.

He knew he was close, but kept his rhythm to get you there with. His hand found your clit quickly, making you jolt up, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into you.

“Oh, shit, Kylian… God! Yes! Fuuuuck…” The heaps of praise melted like butter in Kylians ears. The sweet voice of the woman he loves praising him made his heart flutter, soaking in the feeling of your teeth sinking into his shoulder.

“I’m gonna fill you up.” He stuttered into your hair, changing the motions of his fingers of your sensitive bud to get you there faster.

“Please, please, Kylian.” You kiss his neck, biting the skin. “Get me pregnant. Please.”

He moaned at your words, feeling like he couldn’t stop himself from orgasming for a minute longer. “Putain, je suis sur le point de... bon sang!” Fuck, I’m about to… Jesus Christ!

It was there. Right there. His thrusts faltered, he took your face from his neck and ran his free thumb over your lips, pressing his forehead to yours as he groaned deeply. He squeezed his eyes closed as you felt his hot spurts of cum painting your walls, shooting into you delightfully until you were sure you were full. He cursed, eyes screwed shut as he continued thrusting sporadically. The feeling of it all made the knot in your abdomen pop. You screamed his name, legs shaking on his shoulder violently, toes curling, thighs shivering.

He pulled his hand away and kept fucking his cum into you through his groans of overstimulation, right until he had to gently and slowly pull out. He kept your legs pressed against your chest as he ventured down the mattress to get a better view of your pussy; his seed spilling out of you in dribbles, forcing him to stuff as much as he could back into you with his thumb. You shivered, lifting your head to watch him admire his work as if you were a piece of art he’d spent centuries perfecting. Slowly, he brought your sore legs back into a more natural position, soothing your aching muscles with a gentle massage. You were still coming down under his touch, both of you absolutely breathless. He throws himself down on the pillows next to you, whisking your hand from your heaving stomach – just holding it as you both calmed down and caught your breath.

“Christ…” You mumbled, chuckling a little bit. You rotate your body toward him with a giddy smile on your face, cuddling into his side and kissing his cheek. He began chuckling along with you. “What if I'm pregnant right now?” You ask, excitement comfortably taking over your face.

He shakes his head and looks at you, then down to your exposed stomach pressed against him. His hand snakes onto your middle, gently pushing you on your back as he steadied his hand right on your belly button.

He didn't even need to say anything. His face said it all.

The excitement of it all carried through the following weeks. It took everything in you to not tell every one of your friends and co-workers that you guys were trying. With the media breathing down your necks, it was agreed that this would be kept on the down low and you’d only announce when you were showing and could no longer hide it. Privacy was important to you both as a couple, and saying you're trying was really just a socially acceptable way of telling people you and Kylian were just constantly having sex.

Your leg bounced in anticipation as you asked your Alexa (again) how long was left of your fifteen minute timer. Kylian chewed on his thumbnail as he sat next to you on the bed with the same frustration at the slow clock ticking down, needing to know if the little stick that sat in the bathroom had one or two lines painted on it.

“I’m not pregnant.” You say into the silence with no evidence that that was true.

He leans back, taking his raw nail away from his teeth. “You could be.”

“I don’t think I am. Wouldn’t I, you know, like, feel it, or something?”

He sighs, placing a sure hand on the small of your back. “I have no idea. I don’t know if you know this about me… but I’ve never been pregnant before.” He smiles, earning a forced grin from you. He notices the unnaturalness of your curved lips to appease his bad joke, never reaching your eyes as they darted around the room nervously. He scoots closer, hugging your shoulders comfortingly, rubbing them like it would take away your anxiety. “Whatever it says, we have time. We keep trying.” He kisses your cheek with a quirk in his smile. “I quite enjoy trying.” You huff out a laugh – a real one – and playfully jab his stomach with your elbow.

That moment lasted no longer than a few seconds before the sound of the alarm went off. You audibly gulped down the minimal moisture in your mouth, taking a deep breath in as you both walked to the bathroom, Kylian holding your shoulders as he walked behind you into the tiled room.

“You want me to look?” He quietly asked after you just stared at the stick that was face down on the counter, not moving a muscle or even blinking. You nod, wiping your hands on your pants.

It felt like everything moved in slow motion when he reached for the otherwise insignificant plastic test that your future was written on. He kept the stick face down in his hand and took a deep breath in. You subconsciously crossed your fingers at your side. You’d never done that before, but you were hoping the universe would listen to your silent pleading superstition. You watch his face so intently, hyper-analyzing it before he even turns the stick in his hands.

His eyes shot down to it and he pursed his lips with a miniscule sigh. Without saying anything else, he sets it back down on the counter and pulls you in for a hug. Your heart dropped into your stomach as you needed confirmation of your suspicions, looking over at the stick with only one single line.

He put his chin on top of your head, squeezing you dearly. “It’s okay. It was our first try.” He murmured as you wrapped your own arms around his torso disappointingly.

You nod despite the grave let down, having convinced yourself that it would happen now like you had both hoped. “Yeah. I don’t know why I expected to get a positive that quickly. I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.”

He shakes his head, not really knowing what to say to comfort you while dealing with his own waves of sadness. Embracing each other in lieu of speaking was just as comforting, knowing you both were having the same experience together was consolation enough.

He kisses the top of your hair with a whispered I love you, holding you, holding him.

A/N: Part 1 of 2 (possibly 3). I'm back! Thank you to everyone for being patient with me and checking up on me through my little month hiatus. Sometimes, you just need a break and I appreciate you guys so much for being so kind through it! Huge hug and kiss to everyone here! Based on these requests (anon 1) (anon 2). And, don't worry, @megannandrewss , yours is coming in the next parts!

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willowser · 6 months

Text

you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds.

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating.

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush �� and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is.

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

#narrator voice: willow did not have the spoons to extend the ending #whoopsie #okie okie part 2 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

452 notes · View notes

itsangelll · 2 months

Note

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE A PART 2 ON THE TEACHER TOM SMUT 😩

A/n: of course!! I’m sorry this took me ages guys I haven’t had any motivation these past couple of days to write this :( it’s a little bit rushed and probably very choppy I’m sorry but I hope you guys enjoy mwah <3 he looks so good in that picture I would be making out with him right then and there tbh.

𝒩ℴ𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓉ℴ 𝓈𝒶𝓎 𝓃ℴ𝓌？𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉 2 💋

warnings: dom!tom sub!freader degrading unprotected sex p in v Tom using handcuffs

MDNI!!

smut and fluff at the end!!

Read at your own risk.

A while later you and Tom grew very close always meeting up outside of school, he even started helping you out with some school work at his place. He started buying you cute gifts obviously your interactions stayed low during school, but if you ever showed up late he would absolutely teach you some manners. (screaming) but something was weird the more you and Tom got close you were falling for him it was wrong you couldn’t fall for your teacher could you?

During school you once again arrived late to class you were tired, “Look who finally decided to show up” you knew that voice anywhere, Tom was staring right at you grazing his tongue over his piercing that made you go crazy but you just walked over to your desk not even giving a smart ass remark back to him.

For the rest of the class you didn’t even pay attention not even looking at Tom his gaze was directly on you though. He knew something was up but didn’t know what exactly. Class was finally over you got your things, you were about to go till Tom grabbed your wrist he was about to speak but you pushed him away and left the room.

-time skip

It was the end of the day, you were leaving school you didn’t know what to think, till a car stopped beside you and to your surprise it was Tom he got out the car and opened the passenger side for you “Get in” his voice was firm and he didn’t look to happy. “No” you tried walking away but he pulled you towards him “Just get the fuck in” you didn’t wanna piss him off even more than you already have so you got in unwillingly.

The car ride was quiet the silence wasn’t nice either you could cut the tension with a knife, his jaw was clenched his eyes directly on the road. After what seemed forever you were arrived at his house. Tom got you out of the car dragging you inside “Fuck Tom can you let go of me” you tried letting he ignored you, pulling you with so much force you were about to fall over.

He dragged you all the way up to his room slamming the door shut behind you pushing you on the bed you were so confused on what was going on. Tom towered over you straddling your hips and pinning both of your arms above your head.

He leaned down his face inches away from yours “So you wanna explain why the fuck you’ve been avoiding me and being such a brat liebe” his voice was rough there wasn’t much light only the window but you could make out every single inch of him. You didn’t know what to say but you decided to keep quiet Tom snickered before pressing his lips to yours.

His lips matched perfectly with yours the way his metal piercing felt against your lips was amazing, you moaned into the kiss letting his tongue enter your mouth (didn’t know how to word it 😭) his hand made it’s way to your neck squeezing gently, you could feel his hard on pressing down onto your lower stomach making you gasp Tom eventually pulled away his salvia coating your red lips.

You tried moving and getting out of his grip but it was difficult “Fucking stay still” Tom grabbed something out of his desk draw he grabbed your wrists handcuffing them together. (oh my god.) He trailed wet kisses along your neck nipping and sucking at different spots across your neck, soft moans escaped your mouth. He moved his hands lower down towards your aching core and pressing his index finger against your clothed clit.

You moaned in response a smirk appeared on Tom’s face, Slowly he peeled off yours and his clothes I swear you got just go weak at the sight of him everything about this guy was perfect no wonder why you fell him. Your eyes moved downwards to his cock his tip leaking with pre-cum your breath caught in your throat he was big to take in. “Tom I-“ you were interrupted “Hush I’ll make it fit liebe” his voice was gentle but teasing.

Tom positioned himself between your legs, “Such a pretty fuckin’ sight Schatz” his gaze was directly on your wet cunt he could go pussy drunk (no cause he so would.) He carefully moved his tip against your entrance before you could even get time to adjust to his length he rammed his cock deep inside you filling you up completely, “Tom fuck!” you moaned out arching your back.

He pulled out half away before thrusting back into you with such force, Tom groaned “Fuck you feel s’good around me Schatz takin’ me so well like the pretty slut you are hm?” His voice was dripping with lust, you couldn’t give a proper answer only moans and whines escaping your mouth. Your legs wrapped around his body, His hand moved to your neck squeezing gently.

His pace quickened moving in different types of angles hitting your g spot directly again and again. Your moans grew louder and louder it was like music to Tom’s ears, the room smelt like sex sweat, your head was crashing against the headboard everytime he thrusted into you, your walls clenched around him you knew you were close, “T-Tom I’m gonna cum soon” you whine out.

“You think you deserve to cum hm after you’ve been such a brat?” he asked me “yes fuck please Tom” you moan out the knot in your stomach grew tighter with each thrust, he looked down at you his gaze almost memorising he leaned down and whispered “Then Cum for me Liebe” he pulled out completely before ramming into you hitting your g spot once again that’s all you needed, You threw your head back your legs shaking and cummed all over his cock “Jesus Fuck liebe!” He moans out his pace slows down a bit riding out his high.

You let out a shaky breath trying to gain back your senses, Tom grabs a towel cleaning you both up and he removes the handcuffs off your wrists. Placing a kiss on your forehead laying down next to you his arm draped around your waist “alright now can you tell me why you’ve been avoiding me Schatz” he asks slightly concerned. You turn to look at him your eyes a little bit glossy “I think I might have feelings for you and I know it might be wrong but-“ Tom pressed a kiss to your lips.

After a few seconds he pulled back he tilted your chin up rubbing your cheek “I couldn’t care if I was your teacher or not Miene Liebe I feel the exact same way about you.” You hugged him tightly feeling a sense of comfort that you didn’t have to worry anymore about how he felt you felt so safe in Tom’s embrace you layed in his arms falling asleep peacefully.

A/n:I HAD NO IDEA I COULD WRITE SO MUCH. I hope you guys enjoyed send me more requests guys mwahhhh bye cuties. <33

Taglist:

@bunniesthoughts

@memzyyy

@madzandmore

@itsmealaiah

@jadedchar

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #tokio hotel x reader #tom kaulitz angst #tom kaulitz fluff #tom kaulitz smut #2010s

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snickerdoodlles · 2 months

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headcanons behind fic: Chay's allowance and KimChay zero baht dates mentioned in long & short

Kim chokes trying not to laugh. “Seriously Angel?” Chay looks at him, lips pulled into a pouty moue like what? “You only take me out on zero baht dates, but you’ll pay people to draw us as cats?” Chay sniffs primly. “I only use my allowance for education and fine art,” he says, haughty.

Korn giving Porsche and Chay a large allowance comes up in a lot of my fics I think, because I see him giving all of his sons and his wards a large allowance. And for once, it's not actually a part of his usual manipulation and control tactics.

(Well. It's not not about manipulation and control, because everything Korn does involves manipulation and control. Korn absolutely monitors their accounts and purchases, not to mention he's absolutely the sort of person to always have a mental ledger of favors given and owed for everyone, especially family.)

However, he doesn't need to control any of the boys' finances to have control over them and he's so present over all of them that giving them access to their own money (vs having them request it from him directly) doesn't give him any more advantage over them or could even run counter to it.

No, I see Korn giving all the boys a hefty allowance as a personal push back against the ghost of his father.

We don't know anything about grandpa Theerapanyakul beyond the fact that Gun invoked his name while yelling at Korn and the mere comparison of them rattled Korn more than the literal gun war happening in his own home. Of all the terrible fathers in this series, the grandpa takes the cake apparently!

Alongside Korn's deep-seated control issues, he also has this weird...thing where he really, really wants to be seen as a caretaker and good provider. He never outright denies his sons and is seemingly very supportive of them-- Khun was allowed to fall back and be taken care of, Kim was allowed to live separately to become a musician, he paid off judges in the name of Kinn's childhood dream, later he supports Kinn and Porsche's relationship-- and the whole fucked thing with Nampheung and the narrative he's constructed around him taking care of her. Even Korn's relationship with Gun is a little bit weird given how much he talks about competition. Like, he desperately wants to be seen as a good provider and caretaker, he just also can't stop being Korn and has that stupid-ass metaphor with the knife and the apple. It's a very crunchy contradiction.

Anyways, Korn's issues aside, I see Korn giving his sons and later wards personal allowances as a part of his personal image of himself as a good provider.

And Porsche and Chay hate it.

(Porsche reminds Chay they're very grateful. Chay mutters where was this help when Porsche took out an informal loan too young. Porsche hisses and whips his head around for any walls that are listening.)

Chay mostly just tries to ignore the supposed pile of money apparently just...sitting there, for him, and spend no differently than how he usually would (it doesn't feel real, digital money is never real to him). However, after so many years of Porsche sacrificing to save money for his needs and future, Chay can't bring himself to ignore the account completely when it comes to things like school or food. He never actually looks at his account, he mostly just squeezes his eyes shut whenever he uses his card for essentials and waits for the system to deny him, except it never does. That does not make Chay feel any better about the situation.

The only time Chay's close to breaking his "no treats" stance is shortly after he and Kim get together. Chay wants so badly to treat Kim to something really special, but. Money. He frets. He makes a pros and cons list. He paces. He has an entire argument with himself in the mirror. He angsts. He takes one look at Kim's happy face over a candlelight dinner and decides fuck it, that's a guy he's going to spoil to the moon and back, stupid blood money allowance be damned.

Except, as established, Chay's never looked at his actual account, so he goes to Cash the accountant to see what his options are for spoiling dates. Like, he's been paying his tuition and the card always goes through at the grocer or noodle house, and Korn does keep telling him his school allowance includes some extra spending money, but Chay wants to spoil Kim. A band they like will be on tour in Bangkok around Kim's birthday, Chay's gunning for special VIP tickets and some extra money for merch and dinner. Surely stupid rich mafia has plenty of money to spare for that.

Chay: would I, uh, be able to get a little extra money? tickets are 3000 but they're for a really special occasion and-

Cash, thinking about Kinn's 3000 dollar helicopter tickets: I don't care, let me just pull up your account details

Chay: thank you so much 🥺

Then Cash turns his screen around to ask Chay how much money he needs and. That is. A lot of money. So many digits. The decimal certainly in the wrong spot. Then Chay looks to the top of the corner and nearly screams because that's his name on the account, what the fuck?

Cash: Khun Korn said to have enough money to cover your tuition

Chay: [does not point out the initial balance was 3x his four year tuition]

Chay...leaves. He thinks. He doesn't know how he got from Cash's office to his room but his next stop is his bed to scream into his pillow until his throat hurts. Fucking rich people.

In protest, Chay takes Kim out the next evening on a zero baht date. They walk along whatever part of the river's nearest to their university to watch the sunset, have to jump a fence and duck two railings to even find a private sitting space away from any other river goers. The view's passable at best, at least free of most industry stuff thanks to the proximity to school but hardly the most inspiring. Chay spreads out his flannel for them to sit on, and feeds Kim dry packet ramen and stale shrimp chips he got free from a university event. He didn't even buy a drink, they survive off a mostly full bottle of grape soda Chay stole off a friend.

(It's a magical evening for Kim, obviously. Ferreting out little hidden spaces hand-in-hand with Chay, enjoying the nighttime air curled together, eating terrible cheap food that somehow tastes good? This is DOING things to him. He will be bringing a guitar and minimum two water bottles with him next time tho.)

#kinnporsche #kimchay #fic: gone fishing #fic headcanons #this almost counts as fic lmao #anyways kimchay zero baht dates my BELOVED let chay open kim's eyes to a whole new world his rich kid ass never knew existed #kim: u know its okay to spend papa's money right?#chay: don't be silly p'kim electronic money isn't real

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kkyeomies · 3 months

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Im so excited to hear that you’re going to be writing again! I love seventeen, and idk if requests are open but I’d love to ask for a tiny seungkwan Drabble. maybe first time with seungkwan? where it’s cute at first but gets really steamy 😭 sorry if this is a weird request, feel free to ignore it ^^

hi anon, thank you for being my first request!!!!! i know you said drabble, but i... got very carried away. i hope i interpreted it the way u wanted :) my writing is still a bit rusty, so i also hope this is a tolerable read 🙏🏽

First Time

pairing - bf!seungkwan x reader

content- fluff, smut, new relationship, first time, reader is a virgin

warnings: none

word count- 2.1k

He was stumped. He had tried what seemed like every trick in the book, but he still couldn’t figure out why you didn’t want to have sex with him. You’d been dating for almost four months, and Seungkwan couldn’t help but feel like he was doing something wrong. He had never forced you to do anything you didn’t want to, of course, but by now, he simply couldn’t figure out why you shied away when he tried to go further. Despite this, you were still very affectionate toward him and expressed only love. Tonight, however, Seungkwan decided he would put an end to his agony, whichever way it would end.

”Baby, can I ask you something?”

You look down at his face from where he lays on your lap, both of you currently in his bed relaxing and listening to music. His soft black locks weaved through your fingers as you brushed them back in a soothing motion. You always thought he looked the most beautiful like this, face free of worries or cares, just enjoying the time between the two of you.

As you held eye contact with him, you could see a hint of hesitation in his deep brown eyes. Offering him a warm smile, you reply.

”Have I ever said no to that question?”

Seungkwan moved up from your lap to sit, leaning on the headboard next to you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it slightly.

”Am I doing something wrong? Like, to make you uncomfortable? Or is it something I said? I promise I can fix it- just let me know, and I’ll d-“

”Whoa, sweetie, where is this coming from?”

You sit up a little straighter, trying to understand where this is heading. You could feel him playing with your fingernails, something he often did when he was anxious about something.

He hesitates again before saying, “It’s just that, well, we’ve been together for a while now, and every time I try to… go further… you don’t seem to like it, so I don’t know if … ” His voice fizzles out to a whisper at the end of his insinuation, anticipating the worst possible answer from you. Instead, he was surprised to see your face heat up in embarrassment as the weight of his words sunk in.

In just a moment, your positions switched. His dependant grip on your hand turns reassuring, and he scoots a little closer to drape his other arm over your shoulder to draw you into him.

”Hey, it’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable. Forget I even mentioned it.” He copies your warm smile from earlier as he lifts your chin to meet his eyes. As much as he wanted an answer to his troubles, it wasn’t worth any pain on your part.

You look down at your intertwined fingers before speaking, “It’s just- I’ve never had sex before.”

Frankly, he was shocked. He had never even considered that an option. He knew you had dated before and just assumed you had experience (in his eyes, you were too attractive to be a virgin still), but now he felt like an idiot.

”I’m so sorry, baby, I just thought- I shouldn’t have assumed. We can wait until whenever you want to.” He pressed a small kiss to your head as he pulled you closer into his arms.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t want to. I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?”

“Messing up, I guess. What if you don’t like it, or I can’t make you feel good?”

He sat up to face you better before saying, “I don’t think you’ve ever made me not feel good.”

You scoffed lightheartedly, amused by his flattery, but he looked dead serious.

“I’m not kidding. I promise you nothing you could do would ever make me feel bad, and you know I’d take good care of you, too. Plus, it doesn’t have to be perfect. It's a ‘first time’ for a reason, silly.” His reassuring tone put you at ease. You had no doubt he would take care of you; he’s proved that to be true every day you’ve been together.

You had been replaying that conversation since it occurred over two weeks ago. The more you thought Seungkwan’s words, the more your fear dissipated, leaving an unfamiliar sense of excitement in your belly.

You and Seungkwan were settled on the couch for your first movie night in a while. It was his first day off of schedules, and he wanted to spend it cuddled up with you.

“What’s wrong, honey? Did I choose the wrong flavor of ice cream?”

“I’m ready.”

“Huh?”

You took a deep breath before declaring, “I want you to take good care of me, Kwannie.”

His confused face shifted as it clicked in his head, and in less than a minute, he had swept you away to the bedroom. In one fluid move, he laid you down on the bed and settled himself in between your hips. He was wasting no time as he pulled his hoodie off, littering kisses down your neck and chest. As he pulled back for a breath, you could catch a good look at his face, shining with a newfound energy.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this moment, baby? All I want to do is make you feel good. Will you let me do that, hmm?”

You could only offer him a whimper, both taken aback and extremely turned on by this new side of him you were seeing. He dove back in to capture your lips while stripping the both of you down. Soon, you were situated between the soft sheets underneath you and the cage of Seungkwan’s arms. The temperature was becoming borderline unbearable as your skin heated up with passion and anticipation.

He shifted down your body slowly, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach and thighs. His hands roamed over your breasts gently, causing your nipples to perk up and a cool shiver to wash over you. When he reached the foot of the bed, he dropped to his knees on the floor and moved your legs onto his shoulders, spreading you open in all your glory. Seungkwan couldn't hold back his low groan after seeing you already wet and ready for him to dive in. You gasped as his tongue finally met your folds; he was really wasting no time. To be honest, you had never expected him to be this forward. He always treated you like you were something precious, so gentle, so caring, but now he was so… rough. But you would be lying if you said you didn't like it.

You were brought back down to earth when Seungkwan moved up to your clit and slid two fingers into your entrance. With a gasp, you propped yourself on your elbows to look at his face. You could see his eyes were clouded with lust as he looked up at you, maintaining a hurried pace with his mouth. It was too much all at once; you dropped back down with a loud moan, causing him to rut against the side of the bed. He had never been this hard in his entire life, but he was determined to get you to finish first before he even thought of touching himself. He always knew you would taste good but never expected it to be this amazing.

“Fuck, I’m so close, baby, don’t stop!” You could barely get the words out before he slipped in a third finger, hitting that sweet spot right on the nose. Your face was scrunched up in pleasure; you had never felt this good.

“Come for me, baby, wanna feel you cum around me.”

With a few more thrusts of his fingers, you felt your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, washing over you from head to toe. You swore your vision blacked out for a second from the intensity.

By the time you came to your senses, Seungkwan had moved back up your body and was softly sucking hickeys into your neck and jaw.

“You did so good for me, honey, so good.”

Still trying to catch your breath, you held the back of his head to pull him into a searing kiss. Your manicured nails grazing his scalp almost knocked him out; he let out a small huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, brown eyes meeting yours.

“I love you so much, you know that? My sweet angel, so beautiful,” he murmurs, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as he reaches over to his nightstand to pull out a condom. You finally got a good glimpse of his hard cock as he rolled the rubber on; you had seen his dick before, but never this hard. The tip was an irritated shade of red, clear that he had been struggling for too long.

“Wait.”

Seungkwan paused what he was doing to look up at you, bewildered. You grabbed his arm to lead him to sit against the headboard and straddled his thighs. He looked up at you, slightly amused, and you said, “It’s my turn to take care of you.”

He honestly thought he could’ve died then and there. The way your hair fell around your shoulders, framing your flushed face, and the borderline painful grip you had on his biceps nearly crushed him. He had never seen you like this, and it drove him crazy.

“I love you so much Kwannie, so much.”

You gave him no chance to respond as you sank down on him. Both of you let out loud groans, the tight fit sending pleasure throughout your bodies. You were grateful to gravity for helping you out, the sensation too overwhelming to focus on pushing it in voluntarily.

“You’re so tight, oh my God. Don’t move, please,” he sobbed. His hands flew to grip your hips with a grasp so tight you thought he would draw blood. You were left with nowhere to escape as the tip of his cock pressed against the deepest part of you, showing no mercy as he took the time to compose himself. He almost came when the entrance of your pussy squeezed his tip and couldn’t even think of continuing if you started moving right away.

“You’re so big- fuck, baby. Can’t believe you even fit.”

Seungkwan groaned partly in pleasure and in panic as he desperately attempted to delay his orgasm. There was no way he would cum without seeing your face when you reached your high again.

After a few moments, you both were steady enough to return to reality, and you slowly started rutting against him. With each swivel of your hips, your moans got louder, and in no time you were bouncing up and down on his dick. Seungkwan’s grip only got tighter (if that was even possible) when he could feel himself hit that gummy spot inside you. He moved one of his hands up to your hair to pull your head back and expose your neck, where he returned to his previous marks that were already bruising beautifully. With an almost wicked smirk, he leaned into your body, nipping at your already sensitive skin. You jolted to a halt as the feeling shot down to your clit. It had been just a few minutes since your first orgasm, but you could already feel your second one fighting its way to the surface.

“Can’t believe I’m the first one to see you like this, fuck! You look so sexy, baby, all fucked out for me. My pretty baby, you’re mine, right? You’re all for me? Only me.”

Before you could respond, he had flipped you both over. You were back in the position you started in, and Seungkwan took the extra step to move your calves onto his shoulders. This was the deepest he had hit all night, fully bottoming out into you. Neither of you was going to last any longer.

“Only you- Fuck- I’m coming again!”

His pace was unrelenting as he got you to your second high of the night. You clenched around him for the last time, finally coaxing his orgasm. He fully came within a few more sturdy pumps before slowing to a stop, panting like crazy.

You took a little longer to recuperate, at which time Seungkwan had disposed of the condom and prepped a warm towel to clean you up.

“So beautiful, my love. You did such a good job. I’m so proud of you,” he kissed your temple firmly. This was better than any ending he could’ve imagined.

i hope u enjoyed :) feel free to let me know if anything is wrong or if my writing can be improved, i haven't written anything in like two years 😭 send any requests u have, I'll slowly get to them!

#kkyeomies #seventeen smut #svt smut #seungkwan smut #seungkwan fanfic #seungkwan fluff #seungkwan x reader #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #kkyeomies fic #kkyeomies answered #kkyeomies smut

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fic-heaven · 6 days

Text

Say my name (König x witty! reader)

Pt1/ Pt.2 Tantrum

🐥A very short part two of two requests I had

Dreams of you tormented König every single night since that day at the armory.

His brain was like a swarm of wasps stinging at every nerve on his body every time you passed by, those gorgeus eyes of yours giving him this knowing look that spoke a thousand words, heavily implying that you have not forgotten what happend between you two. So he opted to ignore you like before. But worse. He'd avoid you now.

König was your colonel, you had to know of his commands, he was very aware of this so instead of using his walkie-talkie or inform you directly he decided to use other operators as homing pigeons and whenever they protested he'd show one of his intimidating glares and insist with his authoritative tone. It always worked. But not with Horangi.

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

If König glared any harder he'd burst a vein tainting his cerulean eyes red with blood. "Deliver the message. It is an order."

Horangi took off his sunglasses, a weird sight to see, and squinted at his colonel like he was looking up at the blinding sun. "You want me to deliver the very important message of refiling this one particular paper to (c/n)? You are aware I could do it instead, we hold the same range." Once he was finished he slid his glasses back on.

König was stiff, eyes adverting to the side for a millisecond. "Do it anyway...?"

Horangi knew something was up, specially since one quick look at the paper reminded him that these documents were already finished weeks ago, he delivered them himself. His colonel had been quite distracted lately and that's something worrying in König judging by how hyper focused he was about everything, specially his job. The operator smiles under his facemask, he crosses his arms and tilts his head as if he had figured the most amusing thing ever.

"Having problems in paradise, sir?"

König took a moment to figure what he meant, this expression was new to him, soon he frowned. "There is no 'paradise' and no problem with me. The only problem here is that you are refusing to obey a direct order from your colonel-"

"König... Come on." Horangi insists but it's clear his friend doesn't want to keep dwelling on this, so he slightly folds the paper, nods at his colonel and leaves his office with a low "Right away, sir." before closing the door.

The way the Austrian deflated made his long body mold to his chair. He's been quite nervous to be around you, the memories of your last (very intimate) interaction became a constant on his brain affecting his work performance, even going as far as not letting him rest properly, the image of you appearing on his very own dreams, your voice a mermaid's call encouraging König to approach and do things to your body that never failed to wake him up with a raging boner. It has been roughly a year and a half since König was promoted to colonel and he was letting a simple operator like you put his position at risk. His hands took a pencil from a red cup he used as penholder and begun writing and doodling absentmindedly on a random white paper to occupy his hands while he waited for the refilled paper to be delivered to him. The distraction was very much needed.

His hands trembled a little as König applied sole pressure on the surface. Memories of your lips moving when you said his name with that sweet voice of yours carried his mind to the moment he felt them against his skin, the delicious feeling of your soft fingertips caressing along the skin of his long neck. The sudden (but expected) erection he got caused the colonel to growl, his other unoccupied hand fisted slamming the table twice before his eyes refocused looking down at the piece of paper he was drawing on. König had doodled a few realistic octopuses wearing crowns along some scribbles of his own name in different letterings and lastly, in the lower right corner of the paper under one of his scribbles was doodled something he has never done before. A human face. Your face. God knows the only thing König was able to draw was his favorite animal and little else... But the memory of your beautiful complexion, your hair, your cute nose, long lashes and scars amongst other things were so clear on his mind his hands carried the tip of the pencil in elegant strokes until he was met by your beautiful face smirking at him from the paper.

"Schau mich nicht so an." (Don't look at me like that.)

Seconds after admiring the doodle before him, the colonel couldn't help but pleasure himself using his memories and the small doodle he made of you as material. It was pathetic, it was disgusting, it was so embarrassing he couldn't help but feel compleat and utter shame and frustration, he couldn't cum... It wasn't enough, it wasn't real. But before he could dwell more on his troubles a quick knock on the door startled him. König quickly thrusted the paper inside one of his drawers, hid his aching cock in the confines of his pants and cleared his throat. "Do come in."

Horangi was back, he was quiet when he placed the paper on the table counter before he confusedly looked around König's table wondering what he was doing since his computer wasn't on and his table was well organized.

"Here uh, here it is." König thanked him with a nod, he sniffed loudly casually picking the paper handed to him, sky eyes scanning across the paper eating up the view of your beautiful calligraphy. But Horangi didn't leave, and that made König look up at him expectantly.

"Something the matter?" He asked. And oh there was plenty Horangi wanted to say and ask, but instead he simply said: "She's with someone else." It was said in a rush, as if Horangi was speaking with a stick shoved up his ass, like he was trying to tame an angry bull.

When König heard this he frowned slowly lowering the paper to his Ikea table's surface that had suffered too many slams to count. "With someone else." He repeats.

Horangi scratches his masked chin, flexes his hands and says "Probably a lover..."

"A lover." König echoes once more as if Horangi was giving him English lessons, his breaths coming a little hard making his mask inflate and deflate on the nose's area.

"Yeah, they were together in her office. Felt like I interrupted something."

König stands up pushing his chair back and leans his body forwards very slowly planting both hands on the table supporting his stance, the other operator leans back intimidated.

"Interrupted something." König blinks rapidly this time sounding demanding.

Horangi nods awkwardly.

"Something? What is 'something'?" His German accent was so pronounced it was almost difficult to understand what he was saying.

"I am not sure..." Horangi muttered, König was silent waiting for him to continue. "...Sex maybe...? They were sweaty, wearing baggy clothes but... In her office and standing too close. Even while she was completing the paperwork you sent-."

"Get out."

The KorTac operator turned back swiftly, rushed off and closed the door with a low thud. He didn't take one full step away before he heard a loud crash followed by a loud thud against the door, it was easy to guess what it could be what smashed the door when he looked downwards and spotted a thin wooden chair leg peeking out the splintered wood of the poor door, the tiny, white wheel at the tip was still rolling.

"Well, she's fucked." Horangi says before walking off.

#call of duty modern warfare #cod #call of duty #konig call of duty #konig cod #konig mw2 #konig x reader #witty reader

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thethirdromana · 1 year

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A few people in the Dorian Gray Weekly tag have observed that Oscar Wilde doesn't make it clear what he wants us to think of Dorian. I'd like to dig into that a bit more, because I think it's true, and fascinating, and weird.

Because if you take everything so far at face value, then Wilde has made it abundantly clear that Dorian is a terrible person. His actions have resulted in a young woman's suicide. He has a visual record in his attic of his moral degradation and that record has become "evil". The picture is covered in "signs of sin", and it's pretty clear that Wilde means that literally. It's not just that Dorian is being spared the realistic physical consequences of his misdeeds, like bags under his eyes after a heavy night out. His sins, which he is unquestionably committing, are visibly altering the appearance of his portrait, like that Roald Dahl quote:

If a person has ugly thoughts, it begins to show on the face. And when that person has ugly thoughts every day, every week, every year, the face gets uglier and uglier until you can hardly bear to look at it.

We don't know exactly what his sins are. But we know how they cause people to act around him:

It was remarked, however, that some of those who had been most intimate with him appeared, after a time, to shun him. Women who had wildly adored him, and for his sake had braved all social censure and set convention at defiance, were seen to grow pallid with shame or horror if Dorian Gray entered the room.

The only reason that there isn't more scandal around him is explicitly because he's rich and attractive. Not because there's any hint that he's sometimes a good person. While Wilde doesn't say "Dorian was evil and his portrait looked evil because he was an evil person who did evil things", he comes pretty damn close to it.

And yet...

Despite all that condemnation, it's hard to come away from reading this novel with the impression that Wilde is actually condemning Dorian's actions, as the commentary in the tag demonstrates. (Which is handy, because this is vibes-based analysis and tricky to prove otherwise).

I think there are two reasons for this. One is the lavish, indulgent descriptions of everything Dorian is doing. The details feel like they're shared in a spirit of appreciation, not judgement. Post-Sibyl, Dorian's crimes are presented in an innuendo-laden, nudge-nudge way that lets you imagine whatever level of debauchery you find titillating. (It's always fun to see where adaptations choose to draw the line here). Dorian's life is shallow, but it's vivid and luxurious - and more than a little enviable. And sometimes it's fun to read about rich people doing bad things!

(Of course, that means that the reader ignores Dorian's sins in favour of his wealth just like his acquaintances do).

The other reason is the weird relationship between Dorian's life and Oscar Wilde's own. Wilde puts what feels like an uncomfortable amount of himself into Dorian - the book that Dorian "could not free himself from", that contributes to his moral degradation, is one of Wilde's own favourite books. Wilde also lived an indulgent, hedonistic lifestyle that took him into sordid parts of London, where he did things that, once revealed, would see him shunned by society, some of which we would still judge harshly.

Wilde was writing for an audience who didn't know as much about his life as we do, but he was already an established celebrity when The Picture of Dorian Gray was published, so I think his readership would see an echo of Dorian's decadence in Wilde himself. Like Basil Hallward, he put a lot of himself into his art. Like Basil Hallward, it revealed more of him than he perhaps intended - but he did intend some of it.

I can't quite imagine writing a character who shares a lot of my interests and enthusiasms, plus some of the worst of my behaviour, and then explicitly describing that character as evil, but that's what Oscar Wilde did. Dorian Gray doesn't feel like it's written in a spirit of self-loathing, but nor does it feel like a demonstration of cognitive dissonance. So I'm no closer to figuring out what the hell is going on here. But for me, the chewy complexity of exactly how Wilde wants us to feel about Dorian - admiring, judgmental, condemnatory, detached - is a significant part of why I enjoy this novel so much.

#dorian gray weekly #oscar wilde #the picture of dorian gray #apologies to my followers for the tonal shift from beetleposting but this was taking up space in my brain and i needed to get it out #and i have an irrational dislike of queuing things

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imlovewithpixels · 10 months

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"Childhood Sweethearts"

-Miles Morales/ 42!Miles x Fem!Reader

Y/N had a crush on Miles since always, and something inside her tell her that they were meant to be together. She just knew

(( Remember that my request are OPEN - Spanish or English, please ASK ME ANYTHING, tALK TO ME AND LEAVE A COMENT IF YOU LIKE UU))

Also, If you like my work, check out my FANDOM Masterlist. <3 - More Spiderverse work on the way.

My first language is not English, so I apologize for any grammatical error.

...

— Nana, quiero volver a casa.— The little girl grips her grandma, her eyes tearing as she walks next to her with her big pink backpack.

— Mi niña , esta es tu casa ahora, ¿si? Tus papis hicieron un gran esfuerzo en traerte aca.— The old woman whispers, carefully picking her word as she looks at the little girl. She guided Y/n through the stair until the third food when her house was as she made way for her to enter.

— No me gusta aca, todos hablan raro…— Y/n said pouting, her little hand gripping her shirt.

— Te acostumbraras , nena. — Those words stuck in her mind as the girl tried to adjust to her first week in New York, which was horrible. Most of the kids laugh at her for her accent or ignorance of English, she only could be comfortable next to her grandma and misses the rest of her family every day, almost crying to sleep. — Doña Carmen, here I have some of your pills.— A pretty woman enters the house as Y/n hides, listening to the weird words that came from her mouth. Rio noticed her as she smiled.

— Hi, baby. Is she your grandchild? What's your name, bonita?— The woman talk to her, Y/n catch the little accent, but she was unsure.

— Tu nombre mija. — Her grandma explained to her. — Sorry, she does not catch el English yet, se acostumbrara…espero. —

— Ay, mi vida, perdon ¿ Asi que hablas español? —

— Si señora…— Y/n was happier to speak spanish.

— Tonces traere a mi hijo pa’ que juegue contigo, se llevaran bien. — At that moment, Y/n eventually became friends with Miles, almost clingy with the sweet little boy that he was. They draw together, she helps him in his first stages with graffiti, and she also gets used to living around New York and speaking English. But of course, everything is not always fine. Y/n has this gigantic crush on Miles, she was the only girl around him and was kind and flirty with him while they grow up, it was almost obvious to everyone that they would end up together.

Even his uncle Aaron approved of their future relationship. And then, Miles enters his stupid private school and leaves her behind

...

…

— I can’t believe this shit, esta hablando con esa gringa.— Y/n complains to her friend. She had been expecting this party for a long time, she hadn't seen Miles in a while, and she wanted to spend some time with him again.

Was she clingy? Maybe, but she was always there for him. When his uncle dies, on his birthday when she bought him an exclusive collection figure and always tries to make sure that he was ok. But, that stupid boy lied to her face, he was hiding something, of her, of her mom and dad.

He always disappeared out of nowhere.

La señora Rio even thought for a moment that he was on drugs, but Miles was not that type of guy. She knew that he would be late with the cake, so she bring one of her own, just in case.

She tried to be at his side, not only because of her crush on the boy but because they were friends. Or at least, that is what she thought.

— Y/n, relax girl. That blondie has nothing compared to you. — Her friend said, smiling comforting. Oh yeah, and now, that Gwanda came out of nothing, from who knows what part of Africa to be with him.

Both girls saw how Ms. Morales and his husband started talking to Gwanda. Y/n keep giving her a sour look until Rio looks at her and calls her.

— Show her who would be a Morales! — Her friend pushes him to the little balcony. Y/n put on her best smile, even if she already say hi to the couple, and then she turned with her most cute face to Miles. — Miles, no te he visto en varias semanas, how are you doing? — She throw herself to hug the boy, god l, he was so tall now. Her cheeks were a little red as she kiss Miles’s cheeks. She could feel the blond’s eyes on her, but she didn’t mind.

— Yea, Ms. Morales, ¿que pasa? — She said, ignoring Gwanda.

— Nothing, mija, Y/n dear, I just wonder that you didn’t greet my Miles.— She said winking to Y/N. — And his amiguita. — Her tone became a little challenging. — Mama! — Miles groans embarrassed.

— Oh yeah, Gwinda, right? — Y/n put a superior smile as she also walks to kiss Gwanda’s cheek, her tone a little sarcastic. — A pleasure to meet you. —

The blonde stood there, she was taken aback.

— G-Gwen… I mean, Gwanda. It’s a pleasure too…—

— Y/n. —

— Y/n , yeah! Is good to see another friend of Miles. — Her tone was genuine, Y/N knew it, but it still hurt.

— Yeah, I know him since we were chamacos. Right, Miles? — She turned immediately back to the boy. He was embarrassed, but Y/N couldn't say if it was because of the situation or because he felt ashamed to be around that gringa. — Y-Yeah, Y/n is a good friend of mine. — He said, smiling at her sweet as honey.

It was not until Gwen left nervous that Y/N notice how Miles’ smile faded slowly, looking at the way the blonde went.

God, how it hurt.

…

Miles didn’t know what to do, he was seeing another version of himself in front of him. He didn’t have time for this! He needed to go to his universe and save his dad.

He needed to escape and he was about to do it, the electricity running through his fingers, he just need it to touch the chain and…

— Miles Gonzalo Morales, I’ve been waiting for you too since a half hour ago! — a female voice interrupts the scene. Miles could hear it from behind “Shit.” His uncle Aaron said nervously.

Something in the confident facade of the other Miles broke, and he looked concerned. — In what mess did you end now? Dios mio, no se que espero de ti, en serio. Who did you chain this time? — The steps were decisive, a familiar fragrance reach Miles, and before he could say something, she look at your eyes. — Y/n? — Miles mumbled confused, as the girl kept freezing, looking at him and then at the other Miles. — The fuck? Babe, is this…you? —

— Ma, not now. — Miles grew, trying to push her away.

— No no, nothing like that! Que mierda es eso? — Y/n look….almost the same, she was wearing a big jacket and Miles could see a gun underneath it. — Also, we had a mission today and you left me alone in the middle of nowhere waiting like a dumb. — She said hardly, pointing at Miles’ chest.

— The kid was supposed to tell you. — Aaron said, looking away.

— You! No, babe, he’s lying, he was supposed to text you. — Miles defends himself.

Y/n scoffed, looking again at the Miles attached to the punching bag.

— You are? — She asks, her eyes relaxing and turning her head curious.

— M-Miles, from another universe. I need to go home, Y/n, you should not be around, it’s dangerous and… —

— Why is he tied up?—

— Babe, can you let me do my things? Let this in my hand, come on. — Miles took the girl by her hands and kissed her palm. She simply pulls away, frowning. — He’s dangerous, Ma. —

— He? If he looks like a poor and lost puppy. — She said, looking back to Miles on the punching bag. Her eyes were…warm, she smiled softly, looking curios and poking his cheek.

Her hand was caught by the other one, he was mad.

— Ma, don’t touch him. —

— Why? he’s you….— She pout. — You’re not planning on killing him or something like that.— She smiled.

Aaron scoff as the room filled with silence.

— You’re planning something? —

— Babe, calm down, this bastard has everything. Tiene a su papa vivo, una buena casa, miralo! He probably has you too, why do I have to be the one who is the bad here? — Miles growled, his grip tight on her hands.

Y/n sighed, looking at him and she leaned softly to kiss him. She gave him a peck on his lips as she smiled.

— Bebito, solo dejalo ir, nothing is gonna change if you keep him here. If you had the opportunity…hey look at me, wouldn’t you do the same? — She smiles, taking his cheeks in her hands. — Also, if he had me too, in his universe, I’ll be worried sick if he's not around. You want me to feel like that. — Her tone was childish as she hug Miles with those pretty eyes that he could not say no. Miles scoff at her last sentence. The boy with the braid turns his attention to him, his gaze piercing his chest. — Did you laugh? what was that?—

— Papi….— Y/N said, giving him a disapproved look.

— S-Sorry, that just sounded weird…My Y/N…well, she’s not into me, we’re not a thing. Just friends.— He said nervous. — Someone is too scared to ask her out? — Miles put his hand around Y/n’s waist as he smirked at Miles, the other one blushing.

— N-No, just…I’m not into her and she’s not into me either so…—

He explains carefully, the teen next to Y/n giving him the nasties look ever. He was about to speak, gripping his girl’s body until Y/n speak.

— Believe me, I’m into you….well, she, she’s into you. — She said softly.

— Babe, the kid’s right, why would you be into him? You only have good taste. — Miles kisses her cheeks as Y/N giggles.

— Gosh, Miles. I’m into you since we were ten. Don’t worry, este baboso didn’t notice it either. — She said, rolling her eyes, you two are not that different. — She crosses her eyes, looking back at the chained Miles. — So yeah, she likes you. I would like you too, you’re cute.— She wink at him.

Miles blush softly.

— Ma…— Miles pushes Y/N against him again, his arms protective as he look bad at Miles.

— Also, you’re totally into her too, if Y/n is as pretty as this one…—

— oh, she is. — Miles adds, unconsciously.

— Well, in that case, You don’t know what you’re missing. — his voice was more directed to Y/n. He started to kiss her as the girl lit, trying to pull apart.

Aaron just rolls his eyes, used to them.

But Miles… simply stood there.

Cause on the one hand. You had a crush on him for that long?

And in the other….geez, you look cute when you smile and your cheeks were blushed like that.

…

E X T R A:

Shit….shit!

Gwen was taken back, not just because of the food at Mile’s party, but because of one girl that was looking at her the entire time. It makes her feel… nervous, a lot. The girl was just so pretty. Why was she looking at her? Should she ask Miles to present her to Gwen?

And then, she smiled, god! her smile was just so enchanting that Gwen was so nervous, she could feel melting on her stops.

“Y/n…” her name will be grabbed on her mind. She said her name!

Well technically, she said Gwanda, but it was the same. And it sounded good in her accent.

Yeah, Gwen develops a crush in the most award moment and with the most impossible person ever. But still, she catches a glimpse of Y/n's lovely face before going away from Mile’s building.

She could think of her later.

She got an anomaly to catch.

...

Thanks for reading, I'll probably make a second part...and another like. Side-storyline with Gwen.

I'm too lazy to traduce the spanich prases, sorry. But basically Y/n came from latin america and since she didn't knew english, she became friend with Miles <3

Leave a comment if you liked, a request or any anon message

Besitos a todo el mundo.

Truly yours, Astrid.

#earth 42 miles x reader #miles morales #across the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderverse x reader #miles x reader #miles x y/n #atsv #atvs imaginas #spiderman atvs #atvs oneshot #earth 42 miles fluff #miles morales x y/n #miles morales oneshot #miles morales imagina

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ashton-sano · 9 months

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Food Wars! Shokugeki no Souma in: Going Grocery Shopping

(Char. Involved: Sōma Yukihira, Akira Hayama, Takumi Aldini, Eishi Tsukasa)

(Thank you so much for 40 notes! Here's another one for you guys. Sorry i couldn't do a short story for these but take some headcanons my dears.)

Sōma Yukihira

-Usually you cant take him anywhere because he causes an issue in which you have to be asked to leave (much to your despair)

-The grocery store is probably the only place you two can go without much problems

-May or may not be sneaking ingredients that werent on your list into the shopping cart

"Oh? What do you mean there werent any Rice crackers and Salmon in the cart before? I'm certain you put them in."

-Will asked to be pushed in the cart around the aisles

-If he ever gets lost, find him in the Frozen Dessert aisle, he loves it there for whatever reason

"C'mon Babeeee. Just one more tub of Ice cream.....Yes i know we already have 4 tubs already. Your point is?"

-However if you were shopping for a food war/cooking practice, he'd be very helpful

-Recommending ingredients, telling you the best flavor combinations from his experience, and slipping in a few personal items

-Overall, hes a massive child in the store so please hold his hand so he doesn't run off

Akira Hayama

-A rollercoaster of emotions

-Its like stepping into a whole other world when you food shop with him

-He tends to find the items in the store "Sub par" and "Second rate" but always picks the best ones with his well trained sense of smell

"Why bother buying from these cheap stores when i have fresh spices and blends at home?"

-He'd swear he hates shopping with you but secretly enjoys the time he spends with you (Good luck getting him to admit it though)

-May subtly tease and feign ignorance when you need help reaching something at a higher shelf

"Hm? Cant you reach it on your own from down there?” -pause- “Whats that look on your face for?"

-On rare occasions, he'll hold your hand when you go together

-He swears its just so that you dont get lost but you know better

-To be honest, its just less of a arduous task if you just go by yourself

Takumi Aldini

-One of the most normal ones on this list if we're being honest

-Its just a calming and sweet time through and through

-He's usually the one to ask you to go with him but will flush when you ask why

"Dont be silly, I just thought you'd want to pick up some things for your upcoming food war, thats all."

-Will never leave you on your own in the store since he loves spending time with you more than he'll admit (his face gives him away)

-He'll push the cart and carry your bags like a gentleman

"How could you even say that, Il mio amore? As if id let you carry them when you already paid."

-An absolute god at picking vegatables for some reason

-His background in the restaurant business definitely plays a part

-In the top 3 (And not three) guys you should always bring when you're shopping

(New!) Eishi Tsukasa

-A walking beige flag when it comes to shopping

-You either love it or want to rip every single hair from your body with tweezers

-Hes not loud or causing a disturbance but hes micro managing and nitpickjng everything

"Thats the one you chose?" "Uhp, I wouldnt go with that one."

-Its better to just let him do everything because he'll make you feel stupid no matter what move you make (even though thats not his intention)

-He means well but lets be honest, you just arent on the same page very often in terms of shopping

"I apologize dear but you know im particular. I dont mean to hover."

-If you have no filter and tell him to cut it out, he'll immeidiently draw back into himself at your blantant rejection

-His more awkward side will show and he will mumble endless strings of apologies

-Just be ready to put up with this weird snowflake

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lovesickry · 11 months

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- the devil is in the details.

┈⋆⭒ daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [0.7k] ┈⋆⭒ part 2 !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ find all parts here!! .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ contents: tame angst, daniel is a dickhead lol .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⎯ a/n: listening to the voicemail, hearing back from the interview and Daniel being super silliness.

it had now been 4 days with no word back from mercedes, the first thing you’d look at were your emails as you rolled out of bed. your hair stuck to the side of your face. with only very vague memories of last nights events.

no new emails.

(1) new voicemail from “daniel ricciardo” today 1:34am

you’d changed the name before you went to bed last night. you figure listening to the voicemail can’t hurt, not quite remembering the subject of conversation last night that you eagerly ignored.

you press play, looking at the length of it: 1min19sec

oh god, what is he saying, christ.

“i know that you hung up, i know that you don’t want to talk to me but come on dylan.”

looooongg breath

“like- if you’re gonna get a job at fucking mercedes you have to tell me.”

“it’s like showing up on my doorstep and we haven’t really like spoken in ages and then you’ll be where i work” his voice is getting deeper now, changing octaves with his mood

“for the fucking rival team too, seriously?”

he was drawing it out, every word an unpredictable string of words drawn together, driven by murky emotions.

“you know what- whatever, i don’t care, work for them, don’t work for them”

“but- just fucking- warn me. okay?”

“thanks”

the dial tone starts playing, shrill in your ear.

it hurts more than you would like to admit, listening to that, hearing that he doesn’t want to be near you. that you need to “warn him” does something to you. why would you need to warn him, it’s not like your presence does anything to him considering he hasn’t reached out in nearly 2 fucking years.

no. no. no.

so frustrating, stupid fucking daniel ricciardo. as if he needs YOU to warn HIM after HE has been the one ignoring YOU the whole time. wouldn’t it be easier for him, you’d think, rather than you. whatever. he’s being weird and confusing and very frustrating.

you wonder if you should write a text back, like:

“don’t worry i’ll warn you if i step within 15 metres of you!”

“i’ll wear a bell so you can hear when i’m coming and run away!”

you delete both, instead going with:

12:34pm

fuck off. you seemed to be so good at it the past 2 years.

read

he starts typing, you wait, for anything, andddddddd…… nothing. as always, a real life example of him fucking off when you don’t want him to.

you put your phone down, opting that a shower might help, the water might help wash away whatever it is you feel towards him, any of it, all of it. but memories of him just come flooding back and he’s so firm and he’s so warm and fuck. no. no.

you turn the shower tap harshly right, hoping the cold water will shock the growing warmth between your legs and make it go away. it works well enough and you finally wash away the smell of london streets out of your hair, after your shower you pick your phone up, still wrapped in your towel.

(1) new message from “daniel ricciardo”

12:55pm

just tell me if i’m gonna turn around at work and you’re gonna be fucking watching me. alright?

oh this fucking guy.

1:14pm

get your head out of your ass i won’t be looking anywhere near you.

just as you press send.

(1) new email.

oh shit oh shit oh shit, you click the banner notification holding your breath.

“regarding job vacancy interview”

pleased to report…….wonderful interview…. ACCEPTED INTO THE ROLE.

HAH. shit. holy shit. you nearly jump up and down holy shit. this is oh my god. you’re gonna get him back so fucking bad.

and at the end of the email.

miss dylan tait, please come to place of interview to receive further information and official proceedings.

oh you could scream.

#daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 fic #f1 #daniel ricciardo angst #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel riccardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1 2023 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #lando norris #Daniel Ricciardo series

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infinitebrians · 4 months

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Favorite Games of 2023 Part 2: Super Mario Wonder

What a weird thing to say but this really is the best Super Mario has been as a 2D platforming game since the Super Nintendo! An overall creatively fresh look on that guy Mario and what he can do when he’s only got two directions to run around in. Just a true delight all the way through, I never had a bad time playing it. The new features like the badges and wonder seeds all gave the game a fun amount of variety and character to the game always keeping a sense of surprise in each area that at their very worst was easily ignored. Also a very lovely game visually that gave character to its characters and a fun new set of weird critters to appreciate.

A unique aspect for my playthrough of Mario Wonder was I insisted on playing through the whole game using my new snackbox leverless controller (arcade stick controller sans the stick). I’ve been wanting to try that controller with a side scrolling game because I kept hearing people play other side scrollers with it and it sounded like a fun perfect test case for that idea. I had a blast playing through the whole game with it. Using it’s button based directions felt entirely natural to play through the entire game with it and I’m absolutely going to be using it for any further similarly structured games in the future. The only time the unique button controls did not feel natural was when I was in situations involving four way direction like the water levels or those surprisingly frequent times where you turn into slime. That controller rules and I always feel bad I don’t like using it too much since I don’t always want to just get absolutely destroyed at fighting games all the time.

The thing though that I will always remember Mario Wonder is surprisingly enough it’s online feature. When this online aspect of the game was announced, a feature while you’ll see and be able to lightly interact with live ghosts of other players who are also playing the same level as you, I joked about Mario Wonder being the second ever strand game. Now having played the game 100%, I am absolutely standing by that statement. I’ve had numerous tiny but memorable experiences with other players with that feature either dancing around, spamming the simple emotes, or even helping each other out through tricky parts of the level. One experience of that in particular, the one this post’s drawing is referencing, happened during the final final challenge level where a Japanese Nabbit player and I were helping (them more to me than me to them) each other through a series of areas in that level. We would emote chirp at each other, cheering us on, and more importantly, wait at the room exits so when we left the room at the same time we’d maintain our online instance together. It happened for a whole checkpoint’s worth of that final level and it would’ve been longer if I didn’t screw up immediately with the infinite sprint badge room LIKE A FOOL. That player was a huge help to me with the few of the toughest rooms of that whole challenge and a very appreciated companion.

These little stories and memories I gathered from such a silly little feature gave me such a warm feeling toward everyone I was playing with in the game, we were all here to help push each other forward. A mechanic that gave people the encouragement to help each other out and feel good in the process of doing it, a fun look at what can be done with online semi anonmyous interaction. I’ll always appreciate that Nabbit player, I hope they’re having a happy new year.

#drawdogs #art #pixel art #writing #favorite games of 2023 #super mario wonder #toadette #nabbit

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parkerslatte · 1 year

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Songbird || FOURTEEN

Eddie Roundtree x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.9k

Part Summary: Y/N and Warren talk about what is bothering her and the Aurora sessions come to a close.

previous chapter / next chapter

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Taglist

•••

TRACK FOURTEEN;

BALLROOM BLITZ

***

...

Y/N sat on the living room couch; the television in front of her wasn't showing anything of particular interest to her. The light filled the room, casting shadows onto the walls. Apart from the television, there was no noise in the house. Karen and Graham were out together somewhere, Eddie had left not long ago, giving a very awkward goodbye to Y/N, and she didn't know where Warren was.

Y/N had a bottle of whiskey open next to her, and she occasionally took a swig, letting it burn down the back of her throat. She could be out partying right now, and instead, she was sitting alone on the couch, drawing her feelings in alcohol. Grabbing the bottle, Y/N took another swig, a longer one.

"Woah, what are you doing here?" Warren questioned, walking into the living room.

"Drowning my sorrows," Y/N says, "Care to join me?" She held the bottle of whisky.

Looking like he was about to go out, Warren took the bottle out of her hand and took a swig before collapsing on the couch next to her.

"You don't have yo stay, y'know," Y/N says, "You can go out."

Warren waved his hand, "Nah, I'd rather spend my time with you anyways."

Y/N smiled before taking another sip of the whisky and passing it back to Warren.

"So, what's got you down?" Warren questions.

Y/N sighs and rests her head on the back of the couch, "Everything."

"Well, I'm here to hear all about it." Warren says, copying Y/N's actions.

"I'm sure that you won't want to hear about most of it." Y/N says.

"Why?" Warren chuckles, "It's not like you're screwing any of us."

Warren laughed, but Y/N didn't. When Warren noticed this, he turned to her; his laughter slowly faded, "You're not screwing any of us, right?"

Y/N pressed her lips into a thin line before taking the whiskey out of her hands and taking a long swig. Warren watched with a confused expression on his face.

"Who is it?" Warren presses, "Actually don't tell me, I don't want to know," He pauses, "Actually I want to know."

"For christ's sake, Warren, it's Eddie!" Y/N exclaimed.

For some reason, telling someone gave Y/N a sense of clarity, and some weight crushing her was lifted.

"Wow," Warren says, "And to think if you screwed any of us, I would be the one."

Y/N chuckled and rested her head on Warren's shoulder. The two sat in silence for a while. The silence between them was comforting; she always felt at ease in Warren's presence. Despite all of Warren's flirty comments, she knew he never meant them.

"So when did it start?" Warren questioned after a while, "You and Eddie?"

Y/N sighed, "Well it happened twice, once at that party just after Billy came back from rehab and then the day Billy and Camila moved out."

"So you're not screwing anymore?" Warren questioned.

"No," Y/N says, "After the first time we both agreed that it was a one time thing, then when it happened again, it changed everything."

"I did wonder why the two of you were acting weird with each other," Warren states, "How did it change everything?"

"Well he refused to even look at me," Y/N says, "He would avoid me constantly, he then met that girl and brought her back to the house."

"Oh shit that was the girl who looked like you!" Warren exclaimed, "She was dull."

"That's what Karen said." Y/N says, lifting her head from Warren's shoulder.

"So what else happened?" Warren asks, "Because you two seem pretty hostile with each other, you more to him."

"Well that party at Camila and Billy's he cornered me and wanted to talk about that night, finally after ignoring me for so long." Y/N says.

"Was that the night you were with that James guy?" Warren questions.

Y/N nods, "Yeah, he was quite dull."

Warren chuckles slightly, "Yeah, he was asking me all night about him, asking me about who he was and why he was with you. He barely paid any attention to his date."

Y/N pauses, thinking about Warren's comment for a while, "He came to find me that night and we had an argument," Y/N says, "He said that that night meant nothing to him and I said the same. After that we just kind of avoided each other."

"You seem to be holding back from something," Warren says, "You can tell me."

Sighing, Y/N reached over to the nearly empty bottle of alcohol, "We're going to need a lot more of this."

***

Y/N and Warren lay sprawled on the couch; Warren's vest was discarded, leaving his bare torso in the open. Y/N had also discarded her cardigan, leaving her in just her top and shorts. There was a nearly empty bottle of wine between the two, and the whisky bottle was empty on the floor next to the two.

"And then I told him to not talk to me." Y/N says, her voice beginning to slur.

"Wait, wait, wait, so he tried to kiss you again that night?" Warren says.

"Yep," Y/N confirms, "At the album cover shoot he tried to apologise for it again, but I set him straight, I said that our friendship wasn't working out, that night really ruined everything."

"And that's how you ended up here?" Warren says.

"Yeah," Y/N says, "I could be out there screwing whatever guy I want and I'm sat here drinking my sorrows away."

Warren pauses, "Y/N, I'm going to say something but you have to not interrupt me, okay?"

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

Warren sighs, "You're leaving one thing out of this explanation, that fact that you fell in love with Eddie."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but Warren shook his head, "You promised you wouldn't interrupt. Now, I can't speak for Eddie but what I can say is that everything I've noticed about him is that he has been different since you've been around. He's been happier, he doesn't complain as much. You wouldn't be hurting this much if you didn't love him."

Y/N was silent; she didn't say a thing.

"Now I could be wrong, but I think you love Eddie and you are scared to admit it and I think he is in love with you." Warren says.

"I am in love with him." Y/N says, finally speaking.

"Then tell him." Warren urged.

"I can't," Y/N says, "Because if your hunch is wrong and he doesn't love me, then whatever friendship we ever had, no matter how small that is now, will be completely ruined and then that will make things awkward."

"But there is that chance that he does love you back," Warren says, pulling her into a hug, "And I'm sure that I'm right."

Y/N didn't respond; she only hugged Warren tighter. Everything he had said was true, and she hated that he could read her that well. Despite everything Warren had said, Y/N wasn't sure if she would tell Eddie. There was still a small slither that he didn't love her, and then she would mess things up even further.

"You wanna know something?" Y/N says.

"What?" Warren questions.

"Your future wife is going to be one lucky woman to have a guy like you." Y/N says.

Warren smiled before kissing Y/N's cheek, "And your future husband, maybe one we already know and love, is going to be a lucky man."

Y/N only offered Warren a small smile before resting her head on his chest. Thoughts continued swirling through her head, her eyes closed, and she drifted off into a dream-filled sleep, Warren following shortly after.

***

Much later that night, when Eddie walked into the house, his hair was a mess, and his shirt was messed up; lipstick stains were present on his skin that he tried to wipe off, but they were still clearly visible. He sighed when he walked through the door, immediately kicking his shoes off and shrugging his jacket off. He didn't know how to feel.

As he walked into the living room, he froze. There on the couch were Y/N and Warren. His heart stopped, but once he realised that they were both asleep, he sighed in relief; he didn't want to explain himself.

As he walked past the two, his heart twisted. Y/N was asleep on Warren's bare chest while his arm was wrapped lazily around her shoulder. He only wished that he were in Warren's place.

Walking past the two and into his room, Eddie collapsed onto his bed, not bothering to change. Thoughts were swarming around his head. Eddie needed a distraction, and he got one, but he wasn't exactly sure how much this distraction would impact his friendship. Sighing and turning over on his bed, Eddie let out a sigh. It was a problem for the next day.

***

When Y/N and Warren woke the following day, she recalled the previous night's conversation. A small ounce of weight was lifted from her chest, but most of the weight was still there.

"What I told you last night, can we keep that between us?" Y/N says.

"What conversation?" Warren questions and sends her a wink.

Y/N smiles before rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and heading into her room to get ready for the day. They were wanted at the studio again, this time early in the morning, and Y/N wasn't sure how many more early moringa she could take.

As she got ready and headed into the kitchen to make a quick breakfast before she left the house for the entire day, she bumped into Eddie, who was exiting his room.

"Oh, hey." Y/N says.

Eddie only offered Y/N a tight-lipped smile before he walked down the hallway and out of sight. She heard the front door open and close, signalling that he had left the house. Y/N knew that she was the one that suggested that they just remain civil with one another, but after her conversation with Warren, she wanted to retract that statement.

With a shake of her head, Y/N continued her route towards the kitchen to make breakfast.

***

"You regret me and I regret you."

As Billy walked into the studio, Daisy sang to Y/N, Karen, Warren and Graham, "You can't handle your liquor, and you can't seem to handle the truth. I'm a slippage in the system, and I'm perfectly ready to strike. So go ahead and regret me but I'm not easing up on this mic."

Daisy stands up with a piece of paper, "I wrote one for you this time."

Billy takes the paper and gives it a quick read, "This isn't going on the album."

"Why?" Daisy questioned.

"We agreed to write everything together."

"You wrote 'More Fun to Miss' without me, right? That's going on the album." Daisy replied.

"Yeah, well, this is different." Billy protested.

"Why?"

"Cause I say it is, that's why." Billy says, agitated.

"Like that's a reason that will hold up in court." Y/N mumbled.

"Show of hands," Daisy says, "Who thinks this song should go on the album?"

Y/N immediately raised her hand alongside Daisy's. Karen's hand raised not long after.

"It's a good song, Billy," Karen says, "Isn't that what we're all here for?"

"She's right man." Warren spoke up, "It's good."

From inside the booth, Teddy raised his hand, solidifying that the song was going on the album. Y/N smirked at the pissed-off look on Billy's face.

"This is bullshit." Billy says before leaving.

"See ya," Daisy says, taking a seat.

"Hey, where you going?" Warren asks.

"Come on, Billy." Karen says.

"Like a fucking toddler who doesn't get his way." Y/N says.

Daisy smiles at Y/N's comment, "Should we run through it?"

As the band recorded the song, Y/N had a genuine smile for the first time in what she thought was forever. She got to do whatever she wanted, record backing vocals for Daisy, and she was having a good time recording the song.

However, as she looked over at Eddie from across the room, her smile faltered as he looked directly at her, no emotion on his face. A look between the two could usually say so many words, but Y/N couldn't figure this one out or if he was even saying anything. As he looked away, Y/N allowed a smile to appear on her face once again.

She pushed aside all of her feelings and focussed on the music, and for the first time in a while, Y/N was truly happy.

…

DAISY JONES: And that's how we ended the Aurora sessions.

GRAHAM DUNNE: We had a three-week break before rehearsals started.

WARREN ROJAS: I chartered a boat, and I sailed down to Mexico with these, these two sets of identical twins…

Y/N L/N: I remember Warren asked me to go with him, but he had his hands pretty full. During that time, I bought my own house and moved in there [laughs]. I had a lot of parties in that house.

EDDIE ROUNDTREE: I just stayed around, you know. Just to see what happened or whatever.

KAREN SIRKO: I don't think we did anything actually…

…

Y/N danced around her living room with a group of complete strangers; Karen, Graham, and Eddie were somewhere in her house, but she wasn't sure where. As the song on the radio changed, she smiled, immediately recognising the song. Grabbing the nearest bottle of alcohol, she began to dance around the room, pulling people in.

Her body moved to the music, her hips swayed, and her hands were in the air. As she gripped onto someone new, he wrapped an arm around her waist, swaying to the music with her.

"What's your name?" Y/N shouted over the music.

"Andreas!" He shouted back.

"Nice to meet you Andreas!" Y/N shouted, "I'm Y/N."

He grabbed the bottle from Y/N's hand and took a sip, "You're a part of this band."

"Yep," Y/N says, "I'm the rhythm guitarist."

"I'm not exactly sure what that is but It's sounds great anyways." Andreas says.

Y/N threw her head back, laughing, and she continued to dance with Andreas.

From across the room, Eddie held onto his drink. He spoke to a few people who approached him, but he was focused on Y/N and Andreas. If looks could kill, Andreas would be six feet under.

"I think there's someone staring at you." Andreas says into Y/N's ear.

Turning around, Y/N made eye contact with Eddie, and her heart felt heavy. As soon as she looked, he looked away, turning to have a conversation with the person next to him.

"He loves you." Andreas says, "That is a look of love."

Y/N raised an eyebrow, "Well he's been avoiding me for weeks, so I really don't think it's a look of love."

Since that night Y/N had that conversation with Warren, Eddie had avoided Y/N at all costs. If she walked into a room, he would usually walk out. If she said something to him, he would give her a short reply before dropping the conversation entirely. It hurt her that he was acting this way with her. Finally figuring out her feeling for the bassist, Y/N wanted to talk to him, maybe build to that conversation she dreaded. Still, every time she interacted with him, he would dismiss her.

Not only was Eddie treating her this way, but Camila was as well. Y/N had called her multiple times to hang out for the day or have a girl's night with her and Karen, but she always said she was too busy with Julia or Billy was taking her out somewhere. The first few times, Y/N let these excuses slide, not thinking anything of them, but as Camila continued to dismiss all of Y/N's efforts to hang out, Y/N finally figured out that Camila was avoiding her as well.

"Well if that's not the look of love, then I'm blind, darling." Andreas says.

"What about you, huh?" Y/N questioned, "Because that guy standing over there has been giving you 'the look of love' ever since you've been with me."

Andreas looks behind him, and he sighs, "It's complicated.”

"Well we have that in common," Y/N says, "Now why don't me and you just get fucked up and forget about everything troubling us."

"I like you, Y/N," Andreas says as Y/N grabs another bottle of alcohol.

"Good because I like you too," Y/N says, "Now, let's dance!"

…

Y/N L/N: Parties like that were frequent at my house in the weeks leading up to rehearsals. I invited the band to everyone; Karen and Graham showed up to most of them, but Eddie stopped coming after one. Despite my feeling for him, having the space from him did me some good. I felt like I wasn't constantly worrying about what was happening between us. I felt like I could finally breathe…well, until the tour started.

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