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bluehourbucky · 1 year

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Nice Jacket

pairing: chubbybaker!bucky x fbiker!reader

summary: you pick up bucky from work for the first time on your 6 month anniversary

a/n: many many thoughts about soft bucky none are coherent :))) also I don't know anything about bikes so bare with me fudhdhd

/ main / bucky /

18+ only

no minors please

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Bucky has been acting weird for a while now and Steve and Sam have been going over what he could be so secretive about. They got nothing. He's singing, dancing and making heart shaped pastry but they haven't seen him outside of the bakery like ever.

He couldn't be in love could he? Bucky rejected at least three people this month alone.

"Hey Steve, could I ask you to close up tonight I promise I'll make it up to you."

Steve lifts a brow because Bucky almost never leaves early.

"Uh sure but why? It isn't like you to leave early?"

Bucky blushes but quickly tries to cover it up with a cough.

"Mygirlfirendispickingmeupforourdate." bucky says all in one breath very quietly. He's not sure why he won't tell his friends. Maybe it's because he doesn't want to jinx it as it has been a few years since his last serious relationship so he wants to hold onto it for a little while.

"What?"

"Just need you to close up please." Bucky begs and Steve just nodds.

Time quickly passes, and Bucky gets a text that you'll be there in 10. He's not the fastest when it comes to getting off work. There's always something that catches his eye before he leaves, but right now, he's out of his work clothes in no time.

"How do I look? Do I have flour in my hair?"

Steve smirks when he realises Bucky is going on a date.

"Hard to look at, punk. And no you do not have flour in your hair."

Bucky shoves Steve and flips him off.

Thats when they hear a loud roar of bikes in front of the bakery.

"Which one is yours?" Natasha asks you lifting her visor.

"The hot one." you simply reply looking at the men though the window taking your helmet off.

"That doesn't help you know? They're both hot."

You roll your eyes.

"Do you think the jacket is too much?" You look back at the box at the end of your bike a leather jacket you've prepared for Bucky as his present. You've customised it with the patches of your biker gang and some other patches from his favorite band and his favourite books. There's also his last name on the back in big white letters. You hope one day you'll get the same thing on your jacked but that's just wishful thinking.

"I gotta go see ya later punk. Thanks for the help." Bucky taps Steve's shoulder before he leaves.

"You can leave now." You tell Natasha, who's being a menace and just won't leave until she meets your Bucky.

"When do I get to meet him?" Natasha groans, Bucky is all you talk about and she didn't think you could get so soft and giggly about a guy she's never seen it before, usually you're indifferent to the guys you date. But with Bucky oh it's all about Bucky, the blue of the sky is not as pretty his eyes, the cakes you eat are not as good as Buckys, anyways you get the point.

"But-" She's cut off by you turning on her bike and pushing her to leave, you'll deal with the teasing later tonight is special so, no one is meeting anyone tonight.

You run up to Bucky when he exits the bakery and jump into his arms, he smells incredible his cologne mixed with sweet smell of bakery brings you so much comfort.

"Hey, handsome." your arms still around his middle nails softly scratching his back.

"Hi doll." he looks at you smiling, moving a strand of hair that has fallen.

"Ready to go?"

"Ready."

You sit on your bike and wait for Bucky to sit behind you, he carefully sits behind your wrapping his big strong arms around you and you feel right at home.

Bucky will never forget the first time you took him for a ride on your bike, he was so nervous as he's never been on one before. He was holding onto you like his life dependented on it, which at that moment it felt like it did. He's kept his eyes closed for most of the ride, Bucky thought it was embarrassing but you reassured him that it's okay.

The second time Bucky was even more embarrassed than the first as he suddenly turned into a horny teen and got a hard on when you kept putting your hand on his thigh every time you stopped at a red light and the constant vibrations and moving didn't help. And again you told him that it's fine and that you didn't think it was embarrassing.

By now, he's already used to it, and he loves going on rides with you. He loves kissing you when he's balancing the bike, your legs over his thighs, your hands in his hair pulling him closer.

Bucky looks at the city around him it's always busy, always crowded. He smiles to himself when he sees you're taking the route to get out of the city, he doesn't know where but wherever you take him he'll be fine with it.

It takes less than an hour to arrive at your destination, you stop at a resting spot in the middle of nowhere. Just one table that looks out to the city, it's there susually for travelers that need to rest and be on their way. Tonight it's luckly empty.

"We're here!" you step off the bike and take your helmet off, then help Bucky take his off as it always gets stuck for some reason, the reason being Bucky likes you taking it off for him as he always gets to hold your waist because you have to get on your tippy toes to pull it off.

"I picked up some wraps from your favourite place, I hope they haven't gotten cold." you say as you're trying to hide the jacket that takes 80% of the box.

"You didn't have to do that. Thank you, doll."

"It's nothing." you also take the drinks and put them on the table. Bucky and you sit on the bench turned to look at the city line.

"Happy 6 months to us."

"Happy 6 months. Hope I get to spend many more with you." Bucky replies, and you blush.It isn't something you expected to hear, it's not like you don't want that too with Bucky, but you didn't think he felt the same way.

Bucky starts to panic when you don't reply, he scared you, he knows that you two haven't been together for a long time but he's never been more sure about anything or anyone else before.

"Listen I-" you cut him off with a kiss and tell him to wait.

"Uh I know we said no gifts but... I got this for you, you don't have to wear it and I can take these off." You shyly present the black leather jacket and Bucky takes it from your hands and puts it on immediately.

"I love it! How do I look?"

"Very handsome." you pull him in for a kiss turns into much more, he holds your neck, deepening the kiss.

Hours pass and you switch between making out and talking and Buckys fingers find their way inside your jeans and your hands find themselves in his jeans too.

As much as Bucky is shy in public he's totally opposite in private, he's needy he's loud and you enjoy it so much.

"My friends want to meet you. Apparently I'm obsessed with you and they wanna give you the talk."

"You are obsessed with me through." You hit Buckys shoulder and he holds it groaning in pain.

"Ouch. I'm obsessed with you too."

It's quiet for a while but it's not the awkward silence you're just enjoying each others company, your head on Buckys chest, you playing with his fingers.

"Thanks for the jacket doll. I'll wear it every day gotta show it off it's really cool."

And true to his word the next morning he wears the same jacket to work and Steve and Sam are all up in his business at 6 in the morning.

"Nice jacket where'd you get it?" Sam teases and Bucky does a turn to show it off.

"My girlfriend got it for me and she customised it."

"Someone is willingly spending time with you? I have to meet this brave soul"

"Shut up Sam."

[The end]

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likes comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky masterlist #sebastian stan characters #baker!bucky #biker!bucky #marvel fic #james buchanan barnes #bucky fic #bucky fluff

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zuruthekitsune · 4 months

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Ethereal blue irises...

So I got an inquiry from one person (warm regards if you're reading this, let me know if you like it) about whether I'll be writing stories and headcanons at some point in the future, because as Ithaqua simp there's nothing left to read. So that's about it and here it is. It may not be the idea originally intended, but it's there!

This is my first story I'm publishing, so it can be quite chaotic, however, there has to be that first time sometime!

Enjoy your reading! .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. Tw: none Ship: Ithaqua x Reader (female)

IMPORTANT I am very sorry if the text contains errors but as I said English is not my native language, so the text is translated by a translator. However, I try to check to the best of my ability that the text is coherent.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Everyone knew that matches with the Night Watch were tough because of his aggressive attitude and lack of mercy. He was cunning, quick and clever. He thought ahead, knowing almost the next move of his prey. You have often played with him before, and you have usually managed to escape. Is this a coincidence? Or did the hunter himself not want to kill you? This is most likely known to Ithaqua himself.

Another match, but this time on Leo's Memory map. You didn't like this map. Your clothing was not suited to the cold of this map. In addition, that often the other survivors liked to throw snowballs by surprise, which ended up with snow under your collar and jaws of teeth.

. . .

You ran over to the machine, which you began to decode. Your slightly reddened fingers hit the metal buttons of the machine, sending unpleasant shivers down your spine. Along with you in the match were Vera, Fiona and Frederick. The match itself promised to be a good one, and fortunately, you were not the first target of the hunter, which turned out to be Ithaqua. Vera managed to hold off the Nightwatchman long enough for 2 of the 5 machines to be done, at which point she fell.

You saw from a distance how she was aggressively planted in a chair by Ithaqua. You didn't like watching this, particularly because you managed to get to know at least a little bit of Ithaqua himself, who doesn't seem to be, the monster he thinks he is. You saw in him a lost man with a tragic past. You managed to exchange a few sentences in the garden when he had no way of escaping from your person, but now was not the time to reflect on what kind of man Ithaqua really is. What mattered now was the match and bringing about a win or at least a draw.

You were about to run to midfield, but you were forestalled by Fiona, so you turned back to the machine, which was already half done. In the back of your mind, you asked for the match to end quickly and with a victory for you-survivors.

. . .

The match was slow-going, but by this time, the balance of victory had tipped in favor of the hunter. The last machine remained, but you were injured after protecting Frederick’s giving with your body. He tried to hold Ithaqua as long as he could so that you would have time to make the last machine, but you did not make it, and Frederick was put down and thus sent back to the mansion.

You were left alone, injured and with no idea where the dungeon was, which was the only sensible solution. With caution, you began to traverse the map, asking the heavens not to meet Ithaqua, who would probably show you no mercy, because a game is a game.... And you had no hope that he would become kind to you and let you escape the dungeon.

You finally found the dungeon, and your eyes flashed slightly, but very quickly your face grinned when you noticed Ithaqua standing by it, who was now playing with his lantern by lightly hitting it with his metal claws against the glass of his lantern, which gave off a soft, warm yellow glow.

Instantly, your heart went up to your throat as you took a quick step backwards and dove behind the wall, causing the snow beneath your feet to crunch, making a sound loud enough for the hunter to hear.

"Mmm? I know you're here...". Which made you hold your breath and cover your mouth with your hand because your heart was beating very fast, so in a moment of not thinking much, you took off running ahead, showing your position to the hunter, whose face showed a sly smile that was hidden under his mask.

"Silly girl... Do you think you can escape me?". The excitement of the possibility of another 'hunt' was palpable in his words. You didn't look back but ran ahead, jumping over windows and pallets, but at one point you felt an unpleasant cold sensation that surrounded you and then suddenly pulled you back so that you hit your back against the hunter's stomach, letting out a shuddering breath. You felt fear paralyze your body as the bloody, ice axe blade dropped in front of you. It would only take one move on the part of the Night Watch to send you to your knees by painfully cutting your legs.

"Mmm?" You heard a quiet, confused murmur from the man behind you. "It's not an everyday sight for my prey to stand still...". You didn't know what the hunter behind you was doing now. You only heard the typical sound of clothing materials rubbing against each other, which let you know of the hunter's movement behind you.

You held your breath as you felt a hand come down on your shoulder and then tighten, forcing you to turn to face the hunter, whose ethereal blue irises bore into you as if trying to devour you, which only made your body tremble and goosebumps appear on your back.

"Why aren't you running away?" He hovered suddenly, causing you to reflexively take a step backwards in fear, forgetting the wait that was the cause of your fall and hissing in pain through the cut. You raised your gaze quickly back to the hunter, who was staring impassively at your figure with his head slightly tilted. You tried to get anything out of yourself, but no words were able to squeeze through your throat, clenched with fear, only quiet pouting and shuddering breath finding an outlet.

"Hmm... Killing you will no longer give me any pleasure.... What's the pleasure in killing an unmoved animal...?". The man's voice seemed resigned when, with a sudden quick movement, he grabbed your hand and pulled, making him hold you over his shoulder flipped like a sack of potatoes. You knew he must have been strong.... after all, he was wielding an axe with one hand.... but you didn't think a seemingly frail man could carry another person on his shoulder. Although? Your body was small and light as a feather, even to other survivors.

"W-Where are you taking me...? W-What do you want to do with me? Why don't you just kill me...?". You rattled off many questions to the man, but he answered none of them, so being resigned, you didn't speak but stared at the ground, hoping for a miracle that the Night Watch didn't want to play with his prey like a cat with food, but your eyes opened wider when the noise of the dungeon reached those ears. You rose slightly, supporting yourself with the hands you placed on the hunter's shoulder blade. "W-What...? Wh-Why...? W-.. Waait!". You shouted as you suddenly felt yourself falling into the black abyss, and all you could see before the blackness filled your field of vision were the hunter's ethereally blue irises and that slight... sincere smile...?

"Why did he do that...?" The question echoed in your head as you closed your eyes, only to suddenly catch your breath and open your eyes wide as you now lay on your soft bed, staring at the ceiling, analyzing the entire match and the hunter's behavior.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Thank you for reading!

If you have any story ideas, let me know! I'll try to put your idea into practice!

#identity v #idv ithaqua #idv x you #idv night watch #identity v night watch #ithaqua x reader #identity v ithaqua #idv x reader #idv fanfic #identity v fanfic #idv ithaqua x reader #fem reader

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headphonesbones · 3 months

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Shattered dream sans x a reader who works for nightmare- [idk if this is what you mean by like you know writing reqs-]

Cas and Null decided to write this together! Hope you enjoy <3

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Alright, this is probably gonna get real complicated REAL FAST

Man is crazy (obvi)

But he’s thankfully (or maybe not thankfully) crazy for you

Uhhh… good luck with that…

So man, this can go a few ways… None of which are probably good lol

Let’s say you’re close to Nightmare before stuff hits the fan. Well, as close as you can get to him…

He’s kinda emotionally constipated, but we love him (kinda)

Nightmare, if he actually gives a damn about you, probably would be… let’s just say “reluctant” to have you around his newly corrupted brother.

He trusted him even less now tbh

BUT

I mean, at least he’s not suspiciously nice anymore??? /j

So, man’s crazy x2 so both of them are kinda trying to manipulate you in order to “see their side”

Basically, they’re fighting over you. One as a romantic interest and the other as platonic… probably.

But basically, neither are exactly “right”

You were doing a pretty good job at trying to stay away from Shattered!Dream until, one day, he managed to corner you when you were really sleepy

“Oh, poor thing. Aren’t you tired of mercilessly working for that…. Imbecile brother of mine? Come here, rest your head.” Shattered cooed at you from the other end of the room, watching you stumble your way into your house after a particularly rough mission. How did he even get in here? You were too tired to care. You shuffled over to him and slumped down at his feet, resting your head in his lap. He places his hand on your head, tenderly stroking your hair and murmuring sweet nothings.

So naturally, you were like “whaT THE FU-”

Nah, you totally didn’t suspect anything. I mean, how different could Shattered!Dream be from his old self? (very different, as you’d come to find out)

You hadn’t slept in literal days, you’d just come back from one of Nightmare’s missions, things got messy in that mission, “your husband is dead, we found him with no head” type shenanigans.

(… the frick did I just say???? ADHD brain is wack as frick, don’t do vegetables, kids)

Your brain was confused and static-y (is that a neurodivergent thing???) and you were just done by that point

You were kinda not too trusting of him, buuuuut… his lap was comfortable, what else can I say, Your Honor?

(I was just in a silly goofy kinda mood, so I fell asleep on my mortal enemy’s lap)

His voice was relaxing, his lap cozy, the mood just right, and you were exhausted beyond belief

So what did you do?

You fell asleep

Anyways

I have no idea if any of this is coherent

When you woke up (like 16 hours later, thanks to exhaustion) you found that you were in your bed.

You, not knowing wtf just happened, are confused, of course.

Was that all a Dream? Well, Dream was involved but NO, IT WAS NOT A DREAM

HIT THE PANIC BUTTON

You have gay panic for a bit until you see the note on your bedside table

He called you mi cielito in the letter.

Mi cielito?? Depending on if you know Spanish, you may be a little confused. Means “my little sky”... what can I say, he’s a sucker for Moon, Sun, Stars, Sky, etc. motifs

Same

Alright, so…

Thankfully, unlike Nightmare, he’s probably not gonna leave dead birds outside of your doorstep

(probably)

You know, for someone that doesn’t really like cats (we all know what I’m talking about), Nightmare sure does act like one… Neko! Nightmare coming up? (I know the word “neko” just dealt +40 psychic damage to one of you out there)

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Alright, I didn’t really answer your request but I am PLANNING on making this a smol series. So like… a few parts? I just really want to get this out! :]

Cas was sorta working off of first caffeine in week, combined with not sleeping in over 24 hours.

Hope you enjoyed! Please, feel free to send as many requests as you want!

#shattered dream sans #undertale sans #undertale #undertale au #shattered dream #dream sans #dreamtale #writing #writing requests #shattered!dream #sans #sans x reader

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miyakuli · 3 months

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PARANORMASIGHT: The Seven Mysteries of Honjo

Game of Stones

Paranormasight is a half-horrific, half-thriller visual novel (I'll come back to this later) in which we follow several characters who find themselves involved in paranormal events caused by curse stones that are said to be able to bring dead people back to life. I really enjoyed the game as a whole, but I have to say that I found it very inconsistent in the way it unfolded.

❤ The game is very pretty. The chara-design is really well done and perfectly matches the characters' personalities, the semi-realistic backgrounds (based on real locations and redrawn on top of them) are superb and have a vintage feel to remind us that we're in the 80s, and the animations are quite often effective at giving you chills. ❤ The characters are the game's greatest strength. None of them are smooth, they all have their dark side and convincing motivations, some are certainly more complex than others, but each has an interesting evolution. And as much as they work well individually, their interactions with each other are also nice. You become attached to this group and find yourself excited when their paths merge (at least, I was rejoicing a little xD) ❤ As soon as you enter the game's menu, you realize that the soundtrack is going to be amazing. The themes are varied in style and mood, and contribute effectively to the dynamics of the scenes. ❤ There's a non-linear aspect to the plot, since we'll be following several character paths at the same time (represented by a flowchart), which will often overlap. As a result, you won't be able to unlock certain scenes without having fulfilled specific conditions in other routes. This gives the game a pleasant and original puzzle aspect.

+/- In fact, we often have to glance at the menu files containing all the historical information as well as the character profiles to help us move forward and understand the underlying plot, which makes the player an active part of the investigation. The story evolves in a coherent manner, buuuuuuuuut is a bit predictable when it comes to big revelations... +/- Some very good directional ideas, for example using the 360-degree rotation of the mouse to create some very scary moments (with jumpscares that really got me) or even playing on a rather surprising meta aspect…….but it all runs out of steam very quickly. Indeed, all these mechanics are concentrated mainly in the prologue (which is rather long, it has to be said), after which we find ourselves in a more conventional thriller with more "banal" scenes with no real gameplay apart from the choice of dialogues and exploration. This gives an impression of inconsistency in the evolution of the game, and makes the loss of that initial momentum almost bland. However, there are still a few good ideas here and there (such as an escape game phase), but I don't think they live up to this introduction. +/- The game asks the player to adjust the volume of the voices at the start….but the game is not dubbed xD actually, the option has its importance later in the story but I swear it gave me false hope at the time x')

✖ No skip option for dialogues already read, which quickly becomes annoying when you want to unlock the various endings. ✖ It's amazing how rushed the true end is! It's to the point where it didn't make any impression on me at all, and the final revelations fall flat. And I still come back to this feeling of inconsistency; we have an intro that is terrific for an ending that is anticlimactic (and it rhymes). ✖ Some of the characters sometimes make rather humorous faces that don't really fit in with the drama of the sequences at times; I didn't understand this choice…

If you're looking for a visual novel with a solid storyline and a charismatic cast of characters, you certainly won't get bored with this title. However, don't expect a purely horrific game, given the rather blatant change of tone and the more basic mechanics after the introduction. Why this choice? That's the real mystery of this game…

youtube

➡ My personal VN ranking (in french) ➡ My Steam page

#paranormasight #also Harue is best girl <333 if I could I would have followed her route only #personal #Lola plays games

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stillness-in-green · 1 year

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Chapter Thoughts — Chapter 386: I Am Here

Sorry for the lateness on this one, folks. This time it was less Life Happening and more trying to sculpt all of my many, many words about All Might and his mech suit into something at least kind of coherent. I've got a few asks and a meme I got tagged in I'm hoping to get posted before the next chapter, fingers crossed.

Hit the jump!

On “Everyone’s on their last legs” and “No heroes can possibly make it in time.”:

O I have… Some issues with these claims. Let me take the latter one first.

No one can make it in time? Really? Iida is being tasked with running across a third of the country in under ten minutes. Gigantomachia’s ludicrous turns of speed are well-documented. Okay, Machia’s incapacitated and Iida’s got something else to do, but even setting aside the two of them, Miss Joke turned up at the Villain Cave mere moments after La Brava determined Skeptic’s location because she and the Ketsubutsu kids “happened to be nearby.” Lady Nagant managed to get from Central Hospital to within firing range of UA, well over a hundred miles away, in what absolutely cannot have been more than two or three minutes. The supersonic American jets are still perfectly intact, too.

Distance between combatants has been a laughable nonissue for the heroes for this entire fight, but now we’re supposed to believe that travel time presents any sort of problem?

Further, the claim, “Everyone’s on their last legs” is certainly interesting, in that it rather strongly suggests that the villains are winning, or at least doing so much damage that even when they finally lose, it leaves the heroes who were facing them with no energy to relocate. Like, the travel time is an issue, but it doesn’t seem to be the primary issue; it’s not the one that’s brought up first. The one that’s brought up first, and twice, is that there’s no one in good enough shape for it.

And like, really? No one at all? None of the heroes at Machia’s containment facility, who should all be free at this point? No one at the arena fight where all the non-important villains were teleported? No one at the parking lot fight? No one at all?

Certainly it would be nice to believe that the villains at the other combat locations around the country are doing so well, but that sure hasn’t been reflected in the story thus far, which has been pretty insistent about heroes rather efficiently mopping things up everywhere but the AFO and Shigaraki fights.

I would like to take this as confirmation that Shiragiri did indeed dump a bunch of Himijins on more battlefields than just U.A. and Gunga, but we didn't see any at Kamino, so what gives?

On Dabi’s Immolation and the Evac Boxes:

O On the one hand, I really like the idea that Dabi is about to destroy himself because of the Phosphor move he copied from Shouto. It’s incredibly thematically sound!

Touya drove himself to destruction because he was trying to overtake his baby brother in their father’s eyes, despite not having a body type that can perform the types of moves said baby brother can. Shouto has learned to balance both sides of himself, has spent the whole series trying to come to terms with both the parents he inherited his dual elements from, while Dabi remains focused exclusively on his father’s fire, with absolutely zero concern for his ice side/his mother’s perspective/balance in the family.[1] Dabi is accumulating heat because he was never trained in how to turn that heat down and isn’t about to start now. Dabi is on a path that will destroy he himself (again) and destroy his family without intervention that Endeavor doesn’t know how to give.

Also, it’s just really great art of Dabi in general, dramatic tool (affectionate) that he is.

On the other hand, lololol imagine trying to convince readers that the police and their magic sensor machines can accurately predict when Dabi is going to explode. Dabi! The guy who survived for over ten years when Ujiko gave him less than a month to live! And who lived those ten years not even taking it easy, but obsessively training himself with the fire that was supposed to kill him! But sure, now we’re supposed to really buy that lifespan outlooks are going to be so very reliable. Okay, BNHA, whatever you say.

O It is entirely lost on me why Gun Head (no longer occupied with Bowl Cut spy dude, I see) thinks people would be less safe in the metal box that is quite some distance underground than they would be right at the surface when a 5km wide fire bomb set to “burn everything off the map” goes off. Maybe the idea is to just manually run and try to get out of range? But there are dozens of people in that box, including elderly and children. 5km is a bit over three miles—call it a mile and a half radius, then. How fast could you run a mile back in Phys Ed, and would you want your grandmother or baby sibling to have to match that time to avoid being killed in a catastrophic inferno?

Granted, Dabi may or may not be right on top of them, but even if they’re towards the edge of the range, 5km is given as the distance at which everything will be “wiped off the map”—the damage is going to be reduced beyond that range, but it isn’t going to just cut off in a perfect circle! Also too, if Tsukauchi is right and Dabi did get information from Skeptic, he might well be right on top of them! He has been chasing Endeavor through the woods for several chapters now—perhaps he knew the spot he was aiming for?[2]

On the other hand, there are already pieces of the ceiling falling and taking out chunks of the interior structures, so maybe the reasoning here is that if they stay, they run a chance of the whole thing collapsing on them and burying them alive? I dunno; I assume the real reason for getting people above ground is to facilitate the long overdue full Todofam reunion, but good lord, if what’s happening on the surface is so bad that it’s doing this underground, how could it possibly be safer to send people right up into whatever’s causing that damage?

O Of course, it’s fairly ridiculous to begin with that Dabi’s anywhere near one of these escape routes. As @itsnothingofinterest pointed out here, the heroes had complete control over where they set these battles. Why, other than the meta reason that it would be better for the battles to be set in places the audience would recognize, were any of them set anywhere near an evacuation route?

This becomes particularly egregious when you look at the battle map volume extra and realize that all of these combats are happening in a roughly horizontal band across the central, southern parts of the country. Why not move any of them north or much farther west? Also too, once those locations are chosen, why send any of those escape cubes on routes that would pass nearby? The cubes look basically as crowded as a random street scene—people gathered up in clumps in some areas with a lot of empty space in others—so why not just put more people in cubes that are headed on northerly routes?

I’m looking forward to the reunion, don’t get me wrong, but the seams are showing in ways that, taken at face value in-universe, reflect very poorly on the heroes.

On All Might, Quirklessness, and a Fight With AFO:

O GOSH THIS ALL MIGHT QUIRKLESS STUFF. Yes, even a quirkless person can be a hero, at least as long as they have millions of yen to burn on transforming mech suits!!!

And okay, maybe that’s reductive; I can see an argument that the point here is that even quirkless people can use what resources they have available to help! Except that All Might is, by any measure, incredibly wealthy and influential because of the 30+ years he spent being the number one hero with the most powerful quirk in the world. He has access to resources that no random quirkless kid—certainly not middle school Deku!—could hope to match! His mech suit car thing is basically a souped-up support item, and support items are strictly, intensely regulated, such that only two categories of people are allowed to utilize them at all.

One category of people is irrelevant for this discussion: people whose quirks interfere with their everyday life. If you don’t have a quirk at all, obviously you can’t get cleared for a support item through this method!

The other category, of course, is heroes. Could a quirkless kid get access to support items that way? Well, Deku seemed to believe, back in Chapter 1, that U.A. allows quirkless people to take its hero course entrance exam; hypothetically, then, a quirkless kid who got into a hero school would then be able to access support items to use in hero work. However, since they wouldn’t have that access until after passing the exam, they’d have to pass the exam with nothing but their own abilities.

Has that ever happened? Well, no—Deku clearly stated that there was no precedent. That implies that it’s not allowed at most schools—or has only become allowed very recently—and that, even at schools that do allow it, there’s never been a quirkless person who’s been able to pass an exam. Not at U.A., apparently not anywhere.

And that’s not really a surprise. Diminishing the agency and potential of quirkless people so thoroughly that they lose confidence in themselves is a well-established pattern! Mirio handily proves that a quirkless person with the right advantage—in his case, his training in Nighteye’s fighting style—is more than capable of facing down a threat even well-trained heroes would struggle against. Yet Mirio was still either allowed or required to withdraw from hero courses after losing his quirk.

I suspect it’s the same with support items: the right tool could make all the difference in the right hands, but if those hands are quirkless, no one bothers to give them the training or tools that would make that difference, nor do they themselves believe it’s even worth trying.[3] You see how that works? Quirkless people need support items to be heroes, but only heroes are allowed access to support items.

Remember, All Might himself said that it was a bad idea to rely on support items, especially if they’re such a central part of one’s persona/skill set that losing them would be cause for hopelessness. Even if he’s changed his mind since, it’s easy to imagine that that sentiment as being the party line on why quirkless people can’t use support items to become heroes: they’d be so reliant on them that they’d be “helpless” without them.[4]

With all that in mind, how exactly does All Might’s decision to face AFO in a mech suit like nothing the average quirkless person would ever have access to have any bearing on Deku’s question about quirkless people becoming heroes?

O I note, too, that this is all framed around the idea of “a quirkless person becoming a Hero,” and very much not about the idea of a civilian, quirk or no quirk, stepping up to take heroic action when necessary. We’ll get some of that in the next chapter, which is nice, but also very tied up in familial responsibility and parental duty, which is not equivalent to a stranger helping another stranger because they’re there and capable of stepping up. Stepping up with no power was framed as admirable when Deku did it, but his reward was not validation that quirkless people could be Heroes after all, but rather the gift of his very own quirk. Likewise, All Might stepping up is framed as admirable here, but it doesn’t answer Deku’s question any differently than All Might did the first time.

Back then, he said that, because of the dangers of the heroic career, only people with power can become Heroes. All this scene does is expand the definition of power to include mechanical augmentation that no one but a Hero would be able to access anyway. From the first chapter to today, the story is still telling us that being a Hero requires power beyond what a normal person can muster.

A reminder of how this issue reflects on another bedrock problem the narrative is presenting: if only Heroes are allowed to step up and make a difference, then Tenko is still walking.

O Because of how incredibly faulty I find the attempted callback to the question of quirkless Heroes, I’m torn about how I want All Might and AFO’s fight to go. On the one hand, I wouldn’t mind seeing AFO kick All Might’s ass for the sophistry of answering Deku’s Chapter 1 question with a mech suit! He could also defy All Might’s expectations and just fly on by, and that would be funny! On the other hand, there are a lot of good narrative reasons for AFO to, firstly, be tempted into stopping here to fight, and, secondly, lose.

There are several arguments I can see for that, many based in the concept of him being influenced by Shigaraki:

AFO cultivated Shigaraki’s hatred of All Might, carefully encouraging it for years for the sole purpose of stealing OFA. He only ever intended to use it as a tool; for that purpose, he intentionally warped his ward’s psyche. It’s karmically appropriate, then, that that wrongdoing plays into his undoing, with the hatred he created becoming a trap he can’t escape.

AFO making bad decisions based on emotions he can’t handle underscores the idea of Tomura’s willpower overpowering VFO. Shigaraki’s strong hatred was too strong for the vestige to handle, and merely moving the conflict to AFO’s mind instead of Shigaraki’s doesn’t change the outcome. (I also like that AFO falling more under Tomura’s influence reverses the progression that we saw in Jakku, of AFO’s influence gradually overcoming Shigaraki.)

Shigaraki’s hatred spreading down the mental link is a keen parallel to his Decay being able to spread to things beyond what he directly touches. Shigaraki destroys VFO; VFO is connected to AFO; guess what happens to AFO?

If All Might could beat AFO but get his suit taken out in the process, that would leave the rest of this story to the next generation, and it would be about goddamn time.

O Some of those points are in opposition to points that could be made in favor of AFO’s victory, though more in the sense of both being valid points rather than one being a counterargument that defeats the other.

For example, the idea of leaving the story to the next generation works if you believe that Shigaraki should be the final boss. I do, fiercely, but plenty of other people believe just as strongly that the last fight should be Deku (+/- Shigaraki) vs. AFO.

Likewise, there’s an argument that AFO will win here because the story has set up the idea that he has to give his quirk factor to Shigaraki, so it has to follow through on that plot thread. A fair point, but you could also say that we already saw Shigaraki defeat VFO and there’s no point in retreading that if the outcome will just be the same, so instead, we have Shigaraki’s hatred/will overcome AFO right here and now, resulting in him getting into a fight he can’t afford to waste time having with All Might.

…One argument I don’t have a counter for is that if a mech suit is all it takes to defeat Prime AFO, why didn’t Hero Society just do that decades ago? But I suppose Prime AFO wasn’t on a rapidly depleting life timer, so All Mech doesn’t need to be able to decisively defeat him, so much as just stall him.

O Some of those points are also banking on the AFO/Shigaraki mental bond having overcome the complication of distance. I mentioned that last time, so to elaborate slightly: in 340, All Might says that the minimum separation they need wrt AFO and Shigaraki is ten kilometers—a little under six-and-a-quarter miles. The distance from the villa to the spot where U.A. was, meanwhile, is closer to one hundred miles. Given how much Hawks and company had been managing to stall and delay, shouldn’t the distance at which AFO started mentioning his other self's influence still have been too great for their mind link (and thus, presumably, Shigaraki’s emotions) to be in effect? Pretty sure the characters would have mentioned it if AFO had managed to get that close all the way back circa Machia's arrival!

In that light, it’s interesting that there’s a conflict between what All Might says—that Shigaraki’s influence is what’s making AFO unable to suppress his negative emotions—and what the narration box says—that, according to Hawks’ report, the de-aging process is the culprit. I don’t know if anything will come of that discrepancy—Hawks has to be guessing, but when was the last time Hawks actually guessed wrong about anything?—but it might be worth pointing out anyway, in case it’s relevant to the theories about AFO having impulse control problems because of his quirk. Maybe All Might and AFO are just wrong about what’s going on in AFO’s brain!

(Note that a much simpler possibility is that splitting up AFO and Shigaraki was never about their mental link but simply about separating the enemy's two most dangerous combatants. The mental connection is mentioned, but it's not the sole cause for concern. But if that's the case, why mention such a specific distance as ten kilometers, instead of just trying to get them as far apart as possible? If them joining up at all is the problem, the distance is immaterial. So what else can the 10km be if not the maximum range of the mental connection?)

Odds & Ends:

O This is a really damn good sentiment that I wish the story would delve further into by letting its characters actually express more doubt. Like, fair’s fair, neither Shouto nor Uraraka have managed to cinch a victory against Dabi or Toga when their actions haven’t matched their desires—squaring up for combat when they want a more peaceable resolution. However, given that the full extent of doubt we’ve seen is Uraraka and Deku discussing, “Hmm, maybe I’m not feeling so great about beating the shit out of someone I have recently begun to suspect is a human person with human emotions. But maybe I’m just a big weirdo and I should forget all about that,” it’s pretty, uh, basic? Maybe we could take more than baby steps, is what I’m getting at here.

(Also, I note harboring that kind of doubt sure as shit doesn’t stop Deku from punching seven kinds of shit out of Shigaraki as long as he can still tell himself it’s AFO in control. So, you know, he’s doing just fine on the victory front so far, doubts and all.)

O Shouto’s emotional “stiff upper lip while his lower lip is going all wobbly from All Might praising him” face is cute.

O Iida clonking Shouto with his mask is also cute. But also, given that the distance is around two hundred miles—so Iida covering that distance in ten minutes will have him moving at roughly 1200mph—I can’t help but feel like it ought to take more than a face mask to protect someone who isn’t built for speed like Iida is from the wind intensity.

O I think a lot of people assume the “wayward child” Iida is referring to is Shouto, and that’s a fair interpretation, but given how much Shouto wants to find some way to come to terms with his brother, it’s really far more Touya who’s gone astray. Preventing that explosion means saving Dabi too, after all, so I think it’s maybe a bit more resonant if Iida is referring to the elder brother there.

O I say this in complete sincerity: Hawks clutching Tokoyami is a good, emotive panel. I also say this in complete sincerity: I dearly hope some Himijins catch up to them, STAT.

O Stain must have either immersion-breakingly superb hearing or an in on the police line if I’m expected to believe he could hear Shouto and Iida’s conversation well enough to render a value judgement on it from the distance he’s at. Maybe he’s just making some assumptions, since I trust he’s seen the Dabi broadcast like everyone else in the world at this point and thus can draw some basic conclusions from Dabi leaving via warp and Iida picking up Dabi’s brother piggyback-style.

O Speaking of Iida and Shouto leaving, I notice we got no input from Burnin’ this week or last. She was still standing last we saw her, so where’s she gotten to? Maybe she’s getting medical attention for Kido and Onima? We haven’t seen them since Dabi was doing a very good impression of burning them alive.

I will be shocked if Dabi managed to off a named character of greater significance and personal import to him than Snatch. Pleased, too—as I’ve said before, Dabi’s firepower gets talked up way too much for how ineffectual it tends to be in terms of concrete, lasting consequences, and I can think of no better candidates to correct that than one or two of Endeavor’s sidekicks. They certainly don’t deserve to be burned alive, but, well, them’s the breaks when you stand there flapping your gums to a murderous abuse victim about why you personally chose to stand with his abuser.

------------------- FOOTNOTES -------------------

[1] So naturally, he goes and gets ice powers next chapter. Sigh. We’ll see how I feel about that when I read the official release and start putting thoughts down in writing.

[2] As, indeed, it turns out he is. Mind you, typically the person with more control over where a chase goes is the one being pursued, not the pursuer. Dabi would need to nipping right at Endeavor’s heels to have much ability to turn him in a specific direction, or he’d need to be teamed up with a partner who could also direct Endeavor’s flight. So it’s actually pretty strange to suggest that Dabi/Skeptic had any hand in this confrontation winding up where it did. Endeavor is the one who decided to take off in this direction and not veer off in another at any point. A little more on this topic next time, probably.

[3] You could argue that Deku was an exception to this, but Chapter 1 Deku always comes off to me as someone who was pinning all his hopes on a Hail Mary without even considering his other options. He wanted to tell himself, At least I tried, but he was already pretty sure he was going to fail, so he wasn’t doing prep he could have been doing to maximize his odds, like exercise, martial arts training, looking into backup schools with easier exams, etc. I would be entirely unsurprised if Deku didn’t even contact U.A. to see if quirkless people are allowed to test for their Hero Course, or if that was just the earliest hurdle that would have felled him and left him thinking, Well, it didn’t hurt to try.

[4] As if that isn’t true for every hero who ever comes up against a villain that’s a hard counter for their skill set, like all those heroes in Chapter 1 who gave up on even attempting to save Bakugou the moment the “tools” they were reliant on—their quirks—were rendered moot.

#bnha #chapter thoughts #bnha 386 #bnha logistics problems #todotalk #bnha all might #bnha afo #bnha endgame #quirkless discrimination #you guys I deleted SO MUCH complaining about Mirio's withdrawal from the hero course #justice for Mirio's quirkless era

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captmickey · 2 years

Note

for the first sentence prompt,,,,,

"Don't take another step!"

Matt stopped, staying in place as he watched the foggy eyed Ken gripping his arm, sweating and looking terribly ill. “Alright, not taking one. Staying right here just like you want. See? It’s all good.”

Ken stared at him for a moment, his eyes trying too hard to focus. He nodded, still gripping his arm, and looked back at the empty space. At the supposed danger that had sent the young soon-to-be captain on edge. Matt knew that there was something going on with Ken, he saw as such throughout the day. He couldn’t help but notice the way he swayed to and fro and sounded sick, how he kept grabbing at his arm and squeezing it just slightly.

Something was wrong, and Matt knew as such, but he didn’t know what it was exactly. Just an inkling of a theory.

But none of that mattered, what happened before nightfall was pointless. Right now Ken needed to lay down so Matt could treat him better, because while he was no master of medicine, he knew the basics. And the basics consisted of the patient lying down when ill.

He took a step forward, closer to Ken.

“I said STOP!” Ken shouted, stepping back. “S-stop! Stop! Don’t you dare take another step!”

“Why?” Matt asked, having to constantly remind himself that he was talking to someone who was clearly delirious. “Why should I not come closer?”

“You’ll get its attention!” He cried out. “Don’t you hear it? It’s close, it can hear us!”

“It?” Once more, Matt followed Ken’s gaze, towards the empty space in the barracks. The only sound that could be heard was the crickets and Ken’s near tearful raspy breaths. He took another few steps, arms outstretched towards him. “Ken, it’s just us–”

“It’s not! Just… just stop!”

“Alright, I’m stopping. But I need to know what this supposed– actual danger is.”

Ken looked pale, as if saying what was there would kill him, and shook violently, squeezing his arm tightly.

“Ken, let me help you. Please…”

“H…. hydra….”

And that was when things began clicking into place for Matt. He recalled Ken being forcefully sent out by Gideon, being forced to retire early for the night. He knew Ken had some ailment that was bad enough to have Gideon constantly observe for any abnormalities, but he never once thought it was in regards to the hydra. He didn’t think toxins lasted this long, but then again… he was never familiar with hydras and their biology.

He took a breath and decided to keep moving to Ken, trying to not let his cries and pleas to stay back shatter his resolve. They only recently got close as friends, and he was nearly certain he was going to get an earful in the morning, but reprimands be damned. His friend needed him.

Matt wrapped his arms around Ken, gripping him tightly as he felt him start to thrash against his hold.

“Let go– let go!! Let go of me!” Ken cried out. “I– it’s going to– I don’t– it’s going to kill me, please…!”

“I’m not letting go. Not until you calm yourself.” Matt shouted. “I’m here, Ken, you’re safe, I promise you, you’re safe. I’m here!”

“But–!”

“Breathe. Breathe with me. Please.”

Ken froze, shakily mimicking his breathing for a moment. Matt could only hope that Ken was slowly becoming coherent, slowly calming… his hope came sooner as Ken fell limp in his grip, his breath rasp and weak.

“Ken…?” Matt quietly called out. He tilted his head, trying to get a better view of his friend and saw his eyes were closed, undoubtedly panicked himself hard enough to the point that he fell asleep.

It… wasn’t ideal. This wasn’t how he wanted to calm him, but at least he wasn’t thrashing and screaming. Gently, he laid Ken down and scooted him a bit further, enough to lay down beside him and continue his hold on Ken. His breathing sounded too harsh for Matt’s liking, but he was asleep, his head resting on his chest.

Mental note, Matt thought, check with the Hobblepotts in regards to Hydra Toxins.

#mickey writes #kings quest

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impostoradult · 4 years

Text

I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)

I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me:

- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles

All of that bothers me tremendously.

But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up.

*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out)

But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday.

I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered?

Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all.

***

A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).

One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™.

Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)

Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written.

But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this.

And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER.

I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:

There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV.

Not ever.

I can’t think of ONE example Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna.

Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.

That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes.

***

Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing.

And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct.

There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.

A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough).

B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough).

C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough).

D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough).

But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging.

Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents.

All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely.

But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!)

Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail.

***

Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place.

And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.

Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.

That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.

But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again.

All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime.

So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn.

***

Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:

1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)

2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder)

3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings

#Supernatural #Destiel #queer representation #sorry this is long

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frogtanii · 3 years

Text

℗ home

kenma x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 2.9k (ahaha)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, liberal use of italics, soft soft, kenma in denial, allusions to marriage, bokuto and kuroo meddling, drinking, declarations of love, SMUT!!! (is marked off!), sub!kenma, handjob + blowjob, slightly insecure!kenma, meiko mentions, enthusiastic consent, one (1) katamari reference, vocal!kenma, uhh

an. good golly gee i HATE ending the endings m so bad at it AND the smut is lil weirder to skip??? like it’s not impossible or anything but it’s not as smooth as atsumu’s, m rlly sorry :((((( but i rlly hope y’all enjoy hehe don’t forget to feed me shawties :3

the loud obnoxious pop music blasting in the crowded bar around kenma made him want to fling himself into the moon at the nearest opportunity.

okay, so that was a little dramatic but the fact still stood.

he was crammed into a tiny booth with kuroo, bokuto, and akaashi, the former brushing up against him with every little movement, making kenma bristle in discomfort.

why the hell did i agree to this, kenma thought while sipping on his cranberry juice. he’d never enjoyed drinking, his true thoughts and feelings coming out way too easily once intoxicated. it was so infuriating being a lightweight, especially when everyone around him was disgustingly drunk.

“are you having fun kenma?” bokuto half yelled, half slurred into his ear from across the table. kenma slouched further into the booth’s stained cushions in response, his lack of answer not bothering bokuto in the slightest.

with the boisterous man’s attention successfully diverted by akaashi, kenma allowed his eyes to wander out over the dance floor but he wasn’t really paying them any mind. instead, his mind was occupied with none other than you.

it shouldn’t have been that surprising considering all the time he’d been spending with you recently. it had been a few months since the hyper house had disbanded and while you were enjoying your time living with your best friends, they had way too much sex. like an abnormal amount.

it had gotten to the point where you were having to abscond from the apartment four times a week because they were just so loud.

at first you had found refuge in the 24 hour cafe a few blocks from your place but falling asleep at a hard wood table only to have to walk home at 2am alone was terrible for your peace of mind (and your back).

you’d started complaining about it at your weekly animal crossing hang outs with kenma and he’d offered the brilliant solution of you coming over to his place when makki and mattsun were otherwise... occupied.

you were shocked at his suggestion and aptly so. it was no news that kenma absolutely hated hosting and having people over, especially since he was one of the few former members that were able to afford their own place straight out the gate.

when you’d expressed this, all he had said was, you’re different.

that wasn’t enough for you, evidenced by your once again nightly stays at the cafe but when you had to run home because someone was following you, you begrudgingly agreed to kenma’s offer and started sleeping at his house multiple times a week.

it was a bit to get used to at first, seeing you first thing in the morning with messy hair and sleep-swollen eyes. you were beautiful jarring. but, as time passed, he got used to your presence, making your drink of choice and sliding him his tea in the morning, sending him a soft smile that had him running to the bathroom to hide his blush.

it was all... strangely domestic.

even now, the thought of you in your threadbare sleep shirt, standing in his kitchen while cooking breakfast sent a wave of heat across his face, spreading up to the tips of his ears.

“what are you thinking about that’s got you so red?” kuroo teased, pulling the glass out of kenma’s hands, laughing at his annoying glare. he hoped he could ignore the question as he so often did, but apparently he wasn’t so lucky.

bokuto cackled in his seat before calling out your name, sending a chill of fear down kenma’s spine. “bet he’s thinkin about her! about how he wants to smooch her and maybe more,” he waggled his eyebrows, “i’m just saying!”

the rest of the table let out good natured laughs but kenma was preoccupied with replaying what bokuto had said.

i mean, sure he thought you were pretty, but anyone with eyes would agree! and yeah, maybe spending time with you was the highlight of his week, but it wasn’t his fault you were so genuinely enjoyable to be around. and of course, sometimes when it was late at night, his mind would wander to you and how it would feel to wake up beside you instead of across the hall from you and—

fuck. he liked you. a lot.

then, as if you somehow knew exactly what was on his mind (a terrifying thought to entertain), his phone buzzed in his hoodie pocket. he pulled it out quickly to check it and he hated how his heart picked up in his chest at the sight of your contact name.

[sussy baka <3]: wya shawty 🤨 u have no food in ur fridge n m hungry seen 13:20

[player ew]: s boys night seen 13:22

[sussy baka <3]: 😐

[sussy baka <3]: are u having fun seen 13:25

[player ew]: ... seen 13:28

[sussy baka <3]: yeah that’s what i thought

[sussy baka <3]: bring home some ramen <3 seen 13:31

home. god, if he didn’t like the sound of that coming from you. it took kenma no time at all to start packing up his things, ignoring the knowing looks on his friends faces as he tossed down a couple of bills for his drink and left to go home, where you were.

after stopping at the convenient store, he headed to his apartment building, shopping bag full of ramen in one hand and heart in the other.

no matter what he did, he couldn’t get bokuto’s annoying voice out of his head, telling him that he liked you. and now that he knew it was true? he was kind of spiraling.

the ding of the elevator managed to somehow shake him out of his thoughts, at least for him to get to his front door, but once it was open, all coherent brain activity immediately dissolved.

you were sitting on his couch in the living room, bundled up in one of his mario blankets and wearing one of his hoodies as you watched some animal documentary raptly, sheer disgust written all over your face.

kenma gulped.

he managed to work up the courage to actually enter his apartment, kicking off his shoes by the door and beelining towards the kitchen, not missing your excited call of his name and wide grin.

biting down any other unchecked feelings, he quickly set to work boiling the water for the ramen and then... stood there. boiling water would take a while and he knew he couldn’t avoid you forever but he really, really didn’t want to go sit by you with all these emotions sitting right on his chest.

“kenma, they’re gonna eat the seal!” you yelled from the couch, waving him over frantically. how was he supposed to say no to brutal animal murder on tv? kenma chuckled dryly at his own joke as he made his way over to where you sat, plopping himself on the side of the couch furthest away from you.

he told himself he just didn’t want to bug you when he had to go check the water but he knew it was a lie. he was running from his feelings, from anything that could ruin this.

you shot him a concerned look which he caught out of the corner of his eye but he kept his head firmly forward, unwilling to look at you if he didn’t have to. “kenma, what’s wrong? was boys night that bad?” you asked gently, and fuck if that didn’t make him feel worse.

kenma just shook his head, still choosing not to face you. you let out a long, arduous sigh before scooting across the couch and pressing yourself to his side, pulling his head down to rest on your chest while taking one of his hands into your own.

what the fuck. what the fuck?!1!?1!!?1!

you were so soft and warm and your arms around him made him feel things which was exactly what he was trying to avoid but then you actually started to speak and oh shit it got worse.

“kenma,” you started, running your hands through his deep brown locks, “you know you can talk to me about anything right?”

of course he knew that because this was you and you were so kind and considerate and badass and cool and that was all precisely why he couldn’t talk to you about everything, especially when it came to his emperor of the cosmos sized feelings for you.

but, instead of saying any of that, he allowed you to continue, his body relaxing into your hold against his will.

“i bother you because i care about you and i worry, you know. i know you’re strong and you can take care of yourself but i can’t help it...” if kenma was really listening, he would’ve heard the shakiness in your voice, the apprehension in your words but he didn’t. “i can’t help it because i like you, kenma.”

you... what?

kenma pushed himself off of you to look you in the face, to find any sign that you’re pranking him or just being cruel but he couldn’t find any.

still, he couldn’t take you at your word, after all who would like someone like him?

“say it again,” his voice comes just under a whisper, his words stilted and unsure but he needs to know, he needs to believe you. he wants to believe you.

“i like you.” you don’t use any big, flowery words, nor do you try and justify why you like him and still, somehow it’s enough. kenma’s eyes filled with tears as they’re trained on you but your eyes were occupied elsewhere.

staring at his lips.

“can i kiss you?” you asked softly, not pressuring or forceful but like that was truly just on your mind and you had to ask it. kenma wasn’t sure how he was supposed to resist when you asked him like that. “please,” was his response, already breathy and absolutely wrecked.

you obliged.

•••smut begin•••

surging forward, you pressed your mouth to his, soft lips meeting chapped ones as you moved them insistently against his own. kenma let out an embarrassing whine at the contact, his hands balling into fists by his sides.

yours, on the other hand, wandered, tracing over the hills and valleys of his chest and back before landing right under the hem of his hoodie. you pulled back, laughing quietly at the way he so eagerly chased your lips while halting him with a hand to his sternum.

“can i take this off?” kenma nodded enthusiastically before he could stop himself and you let out another soft huff as you busied yourself with getting him naked.

he tried to help you where he could, but he was ultimately resigned to bask in your movements, in your control as you manhandled him out of every article of clothing he was wearing until he was as naked as the day he was born.

immediately, the insecurities took hold of him, his mouth opening to stutter out an apology for how he looked. meiko’s voice played in his ears, reminding him he wasn’t what the girls went for being too skinny, too sensitive, too loud.

kenma moved to pick his clothes back up to cover himself before retreating to his room where he could die of shame but your firm hand kept him where he sat.

“you’re beautiful,” you said, like you were saying the sky was blue or the grass was green — as an irrefutable fact. your brows were furrowed at first but the expression melted away to show a softer one, one full of love, admiration, and... lust.

a high-pitched whimper left his lips at your gaze, his cock throbbing against his thigh. you grinned and moved back in to kiss him, your hand moving to his throat to hold him in place, his adam’s apple bobbing against your palm.

your other, unoccupied, hand traveled down his body to rub over a nipple, his back arching into your touch as his breath hitched against your mouth. you let out a hum of approval, continuing your ministrations of pinching and plucking the hard bud before moving further down to take a hold of his cock.

kenma broke away from you, a choked wail erupting from his chest as he bucked up into your grip. “can i make you feel good? can i show you how beautiful you are?” you asked earnestly, your thumb gently caressing his jaw.

“please, please, please,” he begged. under normal circumstances, he would be embarrassed at how easily he’d been folding for you, but it was so much easier to just submit to your capable and willing hands.

“good boy,” you tacked on mindlessly, your blown eyes and kiss-swollen lips only adding to your debauched look. internally, kenma preened at the fact that he was responsible for you looking like that, so feral like you just wanted to eat him up.

which was apparently exactly what you wanted to do, evidenced by you sliding onto your knees in front of him, pressing kisses and sucking marks into his pale thighs.

kenma’s hips stuttered beneath you as he watched you get closer and closer to his throbbing member, the tip already bright red and leaking precum.

suddenly, your eyes shot up to his, pinning him with an intense stare as you slowly, slowly brought him to your mouth, the wet heat enveloping the head before you closed your lips around him and sucked.

holy fucking shit.

his reaction was instantaneous. his eyes rolled back into his head, his hips bucked up into your mouth, and a filthy moan escaped from him as you started to get into a nice rhythm sucking his cock.

kenma could barely keep himself quiet, especially when you began toying with his balls, the feeling adding to the coil tightening in his gut.

you pulled all the way off of him before sucking him down the hilt, his mouth opening in a silent scream as you choked around his length, the pleasure that your throat was bringing while you pulsed around him was otherworldly.

he was going to die, he resigned. he was going to die by the biggest orgasm he’d ever had with his penis in your mouth and he was going to love every second of it.

a sharp tap to his inner thigh brought him back down to earth, this bleary eyes trying to focus on your face and once they did, he was taken aback. your eyes held such fondness, such love that he could hardly take it.

kenma couldn’t hold back his thoughts, especially under the intensity of your gaze, his mouth opening to gasp out, “i love you, shit, i love you.”

you pulled off him with a pop but you didn’t stop stroking him, your hand picking up the pace to the point that his thighs were quivering with the strength of his oncoming orgasm.

“say it again,” you threw his words right back at him and if he’d been in his right mind, he might’ve laughed but since he was drowning in pleasure, he immediately followed your orders, groaning out those three words over and over until he was hoarse.

you seemed to enjoy it, so much so that you took the palm of your hand and toyed with the sensitive tip of his cock, sending him right over the edge.

his vision whited out completely as he came with a loud cry of your name, tears trailing from his lashline from the sheer severity of his orgasm, one hand grasped tightly in yours.

•••smut over•••

as kenma came down from his high, he watched you brush his hair from his face before pressing a kiss to his hairline.

“you know, i love you too,” you stated, pulling him up to rest his spent body against your own. he scoffed while playing with your hand, toying with your bare ring finger in a way that you knew was deliberate.

“i figured, you just sucked my dick.” you protested loudly, smacking him gently on the arm when he snickered at your reaction. after your laughter died down, he rested his head back over your heart, listening to the steady beat thrumming beneath his ear.

your hands tangled back into his hair and he felt himself drifting off into dreamland when a loud meow startled him awake again. kyabia (or caviar) stared up at him with unblinking feline eyes, her tail swishing silently against the floor. “oh god, my cat is seeing me naked,” he gasped in horror, your chest heaving against his ear as you cackled.

kyabia quickly got bored and scampered off to who knows where and by that time, kenma was ready to knock back out. you were still laughing though and since you were his human pillow, that just wouldn’t do.

shoving you down on the couch, he buried his head in your chest and muttered a blunt, “sleep,” ignoring the way your giggle made a smile spread across his cheeks.

obviously, you could tell if your own matching grin was anything to go by but you let it be, instead choosing to wrap your arms around him and hold him tighter to your body, like you were trying to pour all your love into the embrace.

kenma only hoped that you would also “let it be” when you caught him ring shopping on his phone just a few weeks later.

it was only a matter of time. why delay when he loved you and you loved him? he knew he couldn’t wait until he could officially call you his.

after all, kozume yn had a nice ring to it.

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

Oh, home, let me come home

Home is wherever I'm with you

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

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totiredtowrite · 3 years

Text

Bully

Warnings - cursing, himbo reader (and that means muscles so if you don't got those jus pretend), sorta mean sakusa, extremely self indulgent so reader is shorter, kind of risque sometimes but it's sfw (like everything on my page)

Note: I did it bc mean sakusa and I am down bad for bullies

Cough bakugou cough

Male Reader - Fem Readers DNI like at all, I'll block you. It's not that hard to understand.

It doesn't take much to get on Sakusa's bad side.

Be annoying, be gross, be handsy, and he's already got you in his bad books.

You though. You, apparently, decided to take it the long way. Of course he noticed. It would be hard not to, if you've got a wide eyed, muscular, puppy of a boy following you around. In class, you had your eyes on him. At practice matches and games? There too, in the front row. You always peered at him, watching what he did, wide eyed and innocent.

He's no psychological genius, but he can just tell. He can tell that you want him to look back, that you want him to notice your very obvious pining. He doesn't know why he found it so agitating. Maybe he just didn't like how blatantly you looked at him, if that made sense at all. You, being so airheaded, only seemed to chase after your goals like a dog. Biceps the size of his head, yet not a coherent thought in yours. Maybe you were more complex than that. Still, Sakusa had no mind to find out.

It's like he could see it, the non existent tail wagging behind you.

So, he started small. Why not give you the attention, right? He tried to be nice at first. He really did, but it was just so easy. You'd get ecstatic whenever he even asked you a question about school. (Which is the nicest thing he'd done). He came to find out that any insults he threw your way went right over your head. Why not take advantage of that fact?

"You know Omi, you can't pick on him forever." Komori sighed. You've been admiring him from the second year, Komori knew that. Apparently though, only in their third year did Sakusa notice.

Sakusa scoffed. "I don't pick on him."

"Yeah, you kind of do." Motoya shrugged, throwing the can that was in his hand in the trash. "Why're you so mean to him anyways? S'not like he's doing anything to you."

Sakusa momentarily paused. He wouldn't admit how he doesn't know just why he hates you. He was certain, every time he saw you, that he wanted to be so mean. Push you around, make you look at him with nervousness and shock through teary eyes. So certain, but then he saw you smile or bounce on your heels excitedly, and he'd feel like taking you somewhere far away where you didn't need to be tainted by the world.

Yeah, none of that was very characteristic of him.

So, of course, he just settled with a simple "I dunno."

Knowing not to push it any further, Komori didn't say anything else.

Their walk was short and brisk. They were only headed to the library, needing to pick something up, so the trip shouldn't be too long. Sakusa didn't need anything really, he just wanted to go along. Another uncharacteristic thing for him, but it's not like he had anything better to do.

School let an hour ago and practice was cancelled. He wasn't just going to sit around. (Motoya forbade him from practicing on his own. Some "take a break sometime" or "don't overwork" bullshit). Doesn't mean he won't go out though.

Approaching the glass doors of the library, Motoya tilted his head slightly. "I only need a couple psych books." He explained, absentmindedly opening the door and walking in. Sakusa nodded, following him in. He didn't go to the public library much, settling on what the school had if he needed anything. Still, he found the place rather comforting.

"Go find a table. I'll meet you in ten minutes maybe? Fifteen?" Komori's voice dropped in volume a bit.

"Sure." Sakusa said.

His cousin have him a grateful look, turning and walking off, presumably to one of the upper floors where the school related books were.

Sakusa sighed through his mask, turning on his heel to go find a table. They were in the west part of the library, surrounded by some bookshelves. Finding a somewhat secluded one, he dropped his bag down on the table and slid into a chair. With another sigh, he turned his attention elsewhere.

From where he was he could see two more tables that were farther away from his, as well as more bookshelves.

He let his gaze wander and glaze over in thought. Why was he so mean to you? After all, the only things you've ever done was watch him with stars in your eyes. He knew a multitude of people who would gladly have an admirer like that. Well, maybe not Ushijima, (who was out in college by now), but at least he wouldn't pick on them.

And speak of the devil.

His sight caught on you at one of the two tables in his vision. Along with...one other guy. He furrowed his brows. Has he seen you with him before? Maybe. What were you doing together? We're you...no, there's no way you were even into guys. Well, not that he would know. You were smiling at him. More turmoil brewed in the pit of his stomach.

Your friend, (he hoped it was your friend), patted your head, saying something he couldn't hear. It's like Sakusa could see the folded puppy ears on your head. His air was getting progressively darker and more threatening. Why was he even getting jealous? Some childish notion, maybe. He didn't like that you were giving such adoring attention to someone else.

Your friend, who had taken his bag, was well out of sight by now. Kiyoomi could only assume that he left. You turned away from the door, scribbling a few things down in a notebook. Sakusa's seen that notebook. You used it in class.

He tapped his foot, a hand coming up to his chin. He looked annoyed, if anything. You didn't even seem to notice him there, which further irked him.

Sakusa turned on his phone to check the time. It's only been five minutes. He wasn't sure how much longer he could sit here for. How is it that you only caught his attention when you weren't vying for it? At this point, Kiyoomi was so used to you hovering around him, practically begging for his attention, that when you weren't it was...different. Different and not even remotely okay.

That combined with how you were relishing in the company of some 'friend' earlier, and he was livid. He felt the need to prove that you only wanted his attention, that you only needed his attention. He knew he wasn't acting , or thinking, like himself. He acknowledged it, and he ignored it. Hell, you didn't even know he was there! There was no reason for him to react so intensely.

He checked the time again. Three more minutes have passed.

He shoved the chair out, (rather harshly), to stand up. Upon hearing the noise, you turned your head up to see him approaching you.

"Sakusa-san!" You squeaked.

"(L/n)." He said back. His voice was low, threatening. You nervously watched him slam his hands down in the table in front of you, black eyes focused on your face.

"What do you-uh, want?" You smiled at him, practically buzzing in excitement in your chair. The library chairs were a little tight, your thighs pressed flush together. Sakusa let his eyes wander, eventually landing your face once more. You, noticing his gaze, laughed slightly. "The chairs are a bit of a tight fit, huh?"

"(L/n)." He says again, leaning in further. "Who were you just with?" Why was he asking that? He didn't care. He just wanted to know. Morbid curiosity. You shuffled in your chair again. He moved around the table, a slow, stalking act. You sat rigid in your chair.

"You know him right?" You turned, standing up. You rested your hands against the table, rocking back against it in a nervous, jittery motion.

"No," He said. His hand was on the back of your chair, the only thing separating you. "Mind explaining?" He moved the chair harshly. You pressed back into the table further.

"Just-He's a good friend!" You looked up at him, grip on the table tightening when he moved in closer. In truth, he wasn't sure why he was doing any of this. It was like something possessed him, blowing his minor jealousy out of proportion. He wanted to prove that you only gave him those adoring looks, he wanted to have his hands on you.

Your breath hitched in the base of your throat. He placed his hands by your sides, leaning in a bit closer. "Sakusa-san?" You laughed habitually to take the edge off, wide eyes sparkling up at him. This time, his breath caught in his throat. You looked so...innocent. So open.

You didn't know what to think. You knew you weren't all that emotionally intelligent. Even still, you could tell that something was up. On any normal day, he'd just comment on your lack of sense or bump into you a little too hard. Really, usually he just ignored you.

"A good friend," he echoed. You nodded, watching with uncertainty when his right hand lifted to your head. The butterflies in your stomach felt like a warning, a 'DANGER' written in blaring red lights. It was hard not to melt, though, when he gingerly pet your hair. It was where your friend had his hand.

You leaned into his touch. It almost burnt, but in a good way. A way that made you want to walk right into the fire and stay there. He narrowed his eyes. What was he doing? His grip turned harsh, clutching your hair in his hand.

You let out a startled whimper. He pulled your head back slightly, making you look him in his eyes. His free hand pulled his mask down. "Why do you look so shocked," he whispered. It didn't sound meek by any means, it felt loud enough to you. "You wanted my time right? My attention?"

You nodded best you could, excitement buzzing through you again. He let go of your hair, hand moving down to the base of your neck. Surprisingly, he didn't feel disgusted. If anything, touching you, it felt...oddly good. It's like he could keep his hands on you forever.

His gaze drifted down to your lips. Pretty, soft looking, quivering. Sakusa's hands were big. not big and muscular, no, more lithe. Long. His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, other fingers still on the back of your neck. "So pretty," he murmured. "Such a pretty boy." He didn't think to sing the praise. It just slipped out. Not like he was going to make a move to take it back though, not when it's escalated this far.

His hand was warm. Surprising, as it seems like he's the kind of guy to have deathly cold hands. You rubbed your muscular thighs together at his words. Noticing the movement, he let out a shaky breath. You felt it on your lips. His breath, unsurprisingly, was minty. Cold.

You whimpered again, leaning in. You could see every little detail of his face. The moles above his thick eyebrows, the small cracks on his lips. So close. One gust of wind and your lips would connect. His eyes lidded, reciprocating your movement and-

"Am I..uh, interrupting something?"

Sakusa practically jumped off of you. "No! No, you're not." He quickly regained his cool. Motoya nodded, brows raised in suspicion.

"Well I've got what I need. Ready to go?" He said.

Sakusa nearly bolted back to where he had set his things, pulling his mask back up onto his nose. "Yeah. Fine." He pulled his bag on his shoulder. Motoya waved to you. You knew that he saw some of it, at most. He turned to walk away, Sakusa following in suit behind him.

Before he left your line of vision, he shot one last glance your way. You weren't sure how to read it, though you could at least see the lingering desire in his iris.

With that, he left your sight, leaving you disheveled and confused against the table.

Do not repost, translate, or copy my work on to other platforms.

#male reader #x male reader #anime x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #hq x male reader #m!reader #sakusa kiyoomi x male reader #sakusa x male reader #kiyoomi x male reader

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realcube · 3 years

Text

haikyuu!! boys with a s/o that becomes clingy/affectionate while drunk

characters: kyōtani, kenma, iwaizumi, matsukawa and bokuto

thank you anon for this marvellous request mwah

ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!

tw// drinking, suggestive themes, sexual references, swearing

Kentarō Kyōtani

kyōtani was used to having a cool, laid-back s/o who was just as awkward about physical touch as he was

i mean, that’s kinda a part of the reason he liked you so much - so y’all could get over your awkwardness together

so imagine his surprise when his usually level-headed, calm s/o came stumbling out of the club, a blubbering mess and threw themselves into his arms, wailing something about a maths test

THE AMOUNT OF EMOTIONS THAT FLOODED HIS MIND IN THAT ONE MOMENT OMFG ADFGHJKL

he was like ‘omg why are they touching me? i kinda like it- wait are they crying? tf? i ain’t ever seen them cry before- should i help them? lord everyone is looking at us now. so what the fuck do i do- AYE DON’T TOUCH ME THERE’

so he had no choice but to dip with you flung over his shoulder lol

he took you back to your shared apartment and forced you to drink some water and instead of ordering a take-out, he just gave you his leftover burrito which he took to the club smh

it was probably cold

but that was the best he could think of at the time bc he simply needed to shut you up with food bc the alcohol in your system was causing you to become especially touchy, hence resulting in kyōtani getting especially aroused

but the last thing he’d do is fuck you while you’re drunk and i firmly believe that despite the fact kyōtani is a bit of a lout - he still has like a basic moral compass

but i mean if you kept being so damn suggestive then it was gonna be a lot harder for him to resist his urges

you were rubbing him up and shit, calling him every pet name in the book so ofc he just stuck a burrito in your mouth and went ‘stfu 😡’

the painful part was that he was silently enjoying it too (┬┬﹏┬┬)

(though, he was red from blushing lol, not anger)

and he wasn’t used to it either so obviously he was gonna get flustered, i mean, everything was happening all at once

oh and you told him ‘i love you’ and he literally combusted like lord have mercy on this man

just that morning you were calling him your ‘annoying rat boyfriend’ (jokingly, ofc) and now you love him?-

that wasn’t the first time you told him that you loved him but he was still blushing none the less

and he stammered out a ‘love you too’ PRAYING that you wouldn’t remember any of this the following day

anyway, he cuddled you to sleep and railed you as soon as you sobered up - the end ❤

Kenma Kozume

pov: you’re kenma happily being a wallflower in the club then your s/o approaches you, demanding for you to fuck them

- ok, end of POV -

anyway, your speech was slurred so kenma wasn’t really sure if that was what you were asking him to do but if it was, he would’ve happily obliged if it wasn’t for the fact you were clearly drunk

mans was blushing though

bc y’all hardly ever do it but now - all of a sudden - you were tightly wrapped around him, garbling erotic threats into his ear

kenma was worried at first but you were like..really weak

so it wasn’t hard to get you off his torso, usher you out of the club and grip your hand as he ordered a taxi

also kenma had read enough wattpad fanfictions to know how to deal with someone while they’re drunk

but none of those fanfictions ever mentioned a single thing about how to deal with yourself while your partner is drunk

like seriously..he was in pain

both from the throbbing erection he had and the aching embarrassment he felt - both stemming from the fact you tried to give him a lap dance in taxi ✋ please oml

anyway, he took you back to his apartment and insisted that you have a few slices of the left-over pizza in the fridge along with a glass of water

after you changed into your pyjamas, you had clearly sobered up slightly as you could now compose coherent sentences

but that wasn’t any better for him bc now you were draped over him, whimpering into his ear about how much you love him

‘i’m so lucky to have you, kenma. i love you so much. you remind me of my first cat - you’re such a cat- i mean, blessing..you’re such a blessing.’

ngl, at that point he would be at a loss for words, just deciding to hug you until you fall asleep

like he finds it so cute that you’re finally opening up to him about how you feel as you’re usually quite composed and restrained

but also- what does he do now?

you eventually fell asleep in his arms and the next day, you woke up to kenma having made breakfast and telling you how much he adores you which was..confusing, to say the least

he told you about how you acted when you were drunk and to say you were embarrassed would be an understatement

also, he’ll tease you about it for the rest of your life ;)

Hajime Iwaizumi

literally all you had to do was send him a text like ‘iwa...,,.,...ily so mycj ❤’’ and he’s already waiting in the line to get into the club lol

he marches in there, finds you, grabs your hand and drags you home

let’s hope that your friends know what iwaizumi looks like so they don’t have to just watch a random guy haul you out the club-

and tries to act all like angry iwaizumi >:( but when you are trailing behind him, muttering about how amazing he is, he becomes more like angy iwa grrr (* ￣︿￣)

by that, i mean that angry iwaizumi would bring you home and lecture on how irresponsible it is to get so intoxicated

but angy iwa just takes care of you but with a disapproving scowl

and angry iwaizumi would make nasty, bitchy remarks about how inappropriate your outfit is

while angy iwa would be like ‘babe, your outfit is lovely but maybe wear something different next time, idk....’

either way, he takes good care of you

he makes sure you eat (and he cooks good food btw - he doesn’t make you eat leftovers lmao)

he lets you change into more comfortable clothes

he ensures that you don’t die in the shower

and he forces you to go to bed

but all of that is rather difficult when you’re clinging to him like your life depends on it, raving on about how sweet of a boyfriend he is and covering his face sloppy kisses

his original plan was to go train some more in his gym (yes, there is a gym in y’alls house-) but when you were peppering his cheek in kisses, begging him to stay with you for whatever reason, of course he didn’t have the balls to leave

so he ended up laying like a log in bed as you cuddled up to him like koala, resting your head in his chest and allowing him to run his hand through your hair as you slept

in that moment - as he stared down at your tranquil figure - he realised how grateful he was for moments like these, as he finally got see a side of you that he knew you’d almost never exhibit when you’re sober

like yeah, you often tell him how much you love him but he can always tell that it’s as if you’re setting aside your pride to say such a thing but now, you’re gushing on about it with the most genuine look in your eyes, he can tell that you’re being completely sincere

and to say that he adores it would be an understatement

so yeah, you were kind of a pain while drunk but you were also the most adorable thing that iwaizumi had ever laid his eyes on (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.)

Issei Matsukawa

ok so the only reason matsukawa wasn’t getting drunk with you was bc the first time y’all got drunk together he got fined for public indecency and you got done for public intoxication

so you decided that it was best (for your wallets) if you took turns getting tipsy

emphasis on ‘tipsy’ bc you both went to the bar together (along with a few friends) and you promised matsukawa that you’d only have a few drinks

so please explain to him why he is now having to carry you bridal style out of the bar because you are too hammered to walk properly

and he was kinda grumpy bc he had to leave his friends mid-conversation bc not only were you pestering him but also, the erotic things you were whispering in his ear caused him to get a boner

and he was getting weird looks from people as he carried you home but that was the least of his problems tbh- he didn’t even notice lol

the biggest issue on his mind rn was the fact that you made him hard yet you can’t help him bc you’re drunk smh

like he was tempted at first bc you seemed down to do it but he quickly came back to reality and realised how morally incorrect that’d be

so he was mumbling curses the whole way home just to tune you out bc if he paid any more attention to the racy promises you were muttering in his ear- he’d explode

he’s alright at taking care of you like he isn’t iwaizumi’s level of caring but he’s a close second, i mean he’s gotten drunk plenty of times so he knows the basics

he was like ‘drink water idk lol ’

anyway, once he handled himself he wasn’t too fazed by your lustful advances

and he was so smug about it too deadass like ‘keep talkin’ me up, (y/n), you ain’t getting shit until you’re sober.’

smh ANYWAY he thinks you’re so charming when you’re like lovey-dovey drunk but SO annoying when you’re horny drunk bc like- he can’t get some (T_T)

Kōtarō Bokuto

best for last 👌

ok anyway he’s an athlete and he doesn’t need alcohol to have a good time- he’s forever drunk tbh- drunk on life :)

so while you’re getting hammered with your pals, he’s doing stupid shit while sober lol

once you both rendezvous outside the club to head home and you’re absolutely steamin- he’s just like ‘hi, babe! how’s your night been?’

SO OBLIVIOUS OML

anyway, he drives back to y’alls house and since you’re fatigued at first, you spent 90% of the car ride sleeping

but when you get home, more awake, you’re all up on him

but you’re not like sensual drunk- more like..emotional drunk but with love 🥺

so basically you are sobbing into his chest about whatever and bc he is an such empath he will start crying too, or at least get a bit emotional

you could say something like, ‘omg, bo. i hardly get to see you because you’re at work so often- i wish i could spend more time with you. i miss you so much’ ╯︿╰

and he would deadass reply whole-heartedly while weeping into your shoulder, ‘I’M QUITTING VOLLEYBALL, (Y/N)!!’

(ok, so maybe he was a bit tipsy too- but like..definitely not has drunk as you)

he has no idea where to start when it comes to taking care of you but he tries (´◡` ‘)

at the very least, he ensures that you don’t having any more alcohol and that you don’t die somehow

he’s v overprotective though

you could be getting a fork to eat your instant-noodles with and he’ll be like

‘apologies ✋ but i cannot allow you to handle such a dangerous weapon while intoxicated. maybe eat with a spoon instead, idk.’ /h

other than that, he just cuddles you to sleep and deals with you in your badly hungover state the next day

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storytellerofuntoldlegends · 3 years

Text

an icarus and his sun: chapter 12

A/N: another shorter chapter here, a bit of an uneasy calm before the storm :)

Warnings: injury, fever, infection/corruption, unconsciousness, talk of possession, talk of death, crying

AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost

The last few days had been horrendous. Jimmy hardly got any sleep, staying at Scott’s side and comforting him through the horrible fever and corruption. The few times Scott was awake, he wasn’t super coherent- the fact that he kept clinging to Jimmy and borderline whining whenever Jimmy wasn’t right beside him proved that. Everyone was trying their best to come up with solutions for Scott. While Joel, Lizzie, and Pixl hadn’t seemed too keen on helping Scott at first, they quickly changed their tune when they heard about what Fwhip had said about Scott, how he had really cared about Jimmy, and left the Wither Rose Alliance because of it. Joel and Pixl tried offering golden apples and health potions, but Gem and Shelby sadly explained that they hadn’t been doing much good, only somewhat combating the fever and doing absolutely nothing to the corruption. Then they tried to remove the corruption- but Scott woke up screaming in pain, and that was a sound that would haunt Jimmy forever. They stopped trying to remove the corruption pretty much instantly, as it was clear that it was far too intertwined with Scott. They would just find another way, there had to be another way.

With Gem’s magic, they had managed to get the corruption to stop spreading across his skin- and it seemed like it had worked. Even Shelby seemed optimistic- her people were never able to stop the corruption from spreading. Scott’s fever went down, and he woke up, seeming far more coherent than he had been in the past few days. Well, maybe not super coherent, he looked extremely baffled and wondered if he was dead. But he wasn’t, he was awake and for once his icy blue eyes weren’t glazed over with fever or pain… but then just like that, everything went wrong again. Scott started shaking and hyperventilating, babbling out apologies- then he tensed, eyes turning red before they fluttered shut and he went limp.

“What happened?!” Gem asked as she burst in, followed by Pearl, Shelby, Katherine, Pixl, Joel, and Lizzie. Jimmy was still standing at Scott’s side, hand tightly gripping Scott’s.

“I don’t know, he seemed fine and then he wasn’t- and his eyes went red, the same red as the corruption,” Jimmy explained, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

“Oh no,” Shelby gasped, eyes going wide as she scrambled back from Scott’s bed. Jimmy looked at her in confusion.

“Shelby, what’s wrong?” Jimmy asked. Shelby swallowed nervously.

“There- there was something else that could happen to people because of the corruption- but it was rare, not many people lived long enough for it to happen.. but we got it to stop spreading, so why would his eyes…” Shelby’s rambling trailed off as she continued backing away from Scott’s bed, eyes wide with horror.

“Shelby, what aren’t you telling us?” Pixl asked, voice gentle yet firm.

“They would become like puppets, the corruption would control them so it could spread- but Scott shouldn’t just be lying there, if his eyes really went red then he should have killed us all by now,” Shelby explained shakily. Various gasps and shouts of alarm filled the room.

“You knew what the corruption did this whole time and didn’t tell us?!” Jimmy demanded.

“Jimmy, yelling isn’t going to solve anything,” Katherine reprimanded, but it was lost on Jimmy as he glared at Shelby instead.

“Becoming a puppet to the corruption was rare! And I didn’t think it was happening to Scott- most times, before someone got under the corruption’s control, they were in a much better state than Scott. But it was like that was what the corruption wanted sometimes. It would weed out the weak ones and keep the strong ones to spread it. And… well, with how Scott was doing, it seemed like the corruption saw him as weak. But then you said his eyes went red, and that was a surefire sign that the corruption took over someone- but he should have started killing people or trying to spread the corruption… it doesn’t make sense,” Shelby rambled, her terrified expression completely directed at Jimmy now. Jimmy’s shoulders sagged, and he dropped his glare to instead sheepishly grimace at Shelby.

“I… yeah, okay. That- that makes sense. Sort of. Sorry for yelling,” he said, giving her a weak smile. Shelby gave a trembling smile back.

“It’s okay. And who knows! Maybe Scott passing out means that he’s still fighting off the corruption,” Shelby said hopefully.

“I don’t think we can afford to be that optimistic,” Pearl said with a wary glance to Scott’s still form.

“Maybe we should lock him away somewhere, until we find a cure,” Joel pondered.

“I have a secret meeting room- Fwhip and Sausage know about it, but it’s probably the most fortified spot in my empire,” Gem offered.

“We could always set up a guard rotation, maybe have someone stay in the meeting room with Scott as a last resort,” Pixl pointed out.

“I’m staying with Scott,” Jimmy blurted. Everyone’s gazes snapped to Jimmy with varying expressions of fear and concern.

“Jimmy, that’s suicide,” Lizzie said softly, eyes slightly glassy. Jimmy felt his eyes watering as well.

“I don’t care, I’m not abandoning him. Not again. Besides, maybe Shelby’s right, maybe he’s still trying to fight it off. And if anyone can beat it, it’s Scott,” Jimmy said firmly.

“Jimmy, this isn’t your fault,” Lizzie said softly. Jimmy gave her a grim trembling smile.

“If I hadn’t pushed him away, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with Fwhip and Sausage on his own. Then maybe none of this would have happened,” he replied, guilt laced throughout his tone. Lizzie let out a frustrated scoff.

“Then you both would have ended up like this! Jimmy, we can’t lose you either!” she exclaimed, hands gesturing wildly as she began to cry. Jimmy let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob as he reached out to take Lizzie’s hands.

“Lizzie, what if it was Joel in this situation?” he asked softly. A look of understanding came over Lizzie’s face, but she shook her head, still looking like she wanted to protest.

“I- but-”

“So you know why I have to do this. I can’t just… give up on him again,” Jimmy continued. Lizzie let out a sigh of defeat, nodding at Jimmy.

“I told you these land boys were trouble,” she teased weakly.

“Didn’t think it would be this much trouble,” Jimmy said with a nervous laugh. Lizzie gave a watery laugh in response, and hesitated for only half a second before letting go of Jimmy’s hands to hug him tightly.

“You’re not allowed to die,” Lizzie murmured into his shoulder. Jimmy chuckled.

“Understood, Ocean Queen,” he said solemnly, swallowing the lump in his throat before letting go of her to look at the others.

“So you’re sure about this?” Gem asked. Jimmy nodded firmly.

“We should still keep a guard rotation outside too, that way Jimmy can call for help if he needs it,” Pearl added. The others nodded in agreement, and Gem fiddled with something around her neck before taking it off and holding it out to Jimmy. It was one of her amethyst shards on a chain, gently glowing with her magic.

“This should protect you from the corruption. The crystals are what helped me slow the spread of it in Scott, maybe it will help it from spreading to you. I’m sorry I don’t have a more definite solution,” Gem explained, pressing it into Jimmy’s hand. The crystal shimmered in his hand, glowing a bit before going back to its usual purple hue.

“Thank you- it’s better than nothing,” Jimmy replied with a smile as he put on the necklace.

“At the very least it looks nice on you!” Shelby chirped, relieving the tension in the room slightly as the group laughed. But the laughs dissipated quickly, and they began preparations to move Scott to the secret meeting room.

The wall closing in front of Jimmy felt like a finality. Realistically he could open it whenever he wanted, but that was only if the situation got dire enough, or if it turned out that Scott was okay. He had hugged each of his friends- even Gem, Pearl and Shelby, even though their friendships were relatively new- and it felt too much like a goodbye. But it wouldn’t be, surely Scott would be alright.

Jimmy looked over to the bed they had set up in the room, where Scott was still peacefully asleep. That was a good sign, right? Unless it wasn’t, and Scott would just… never wake up. Forever trapped in the clutches of the corruption, eternally fighting its control. Jimmy shook his head. He couldn’t think like that. Scott would wake up, eventually. But whether or not Scott would be himself when he woke up was another issue. Would Jimmy really be able to fight him off? Would he even have enough time to call for help? And even if he did, would he want to? If he asked his friends for help, they would have to kill Scott in order to keep the lands safe from corruption. He just had to hope that Gem could figure out a cure before it got to that point. And maybe this worrying was for nothing! Maybe Scott’s willpower was strong enough to fight it… but there was no way of knowing that. Instead, all Jimmy could do was sit at Scott’s side, holding his hand and praying to whoever was listening that Scott would be alright.

Taglists below! Let me know if you want to be added/removed!

MCYT General Fic Taglist: @corazon10000 @damiensaidno @franticfandomfanatic @gattonero17 @hetapeep41 @space-ace123 @vyeoh

AIAHS Taglist: @anty-kreatywna @beepa99 @devilwoodkitty18 @riobug

#empires smp #scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #geminitay #pearlescentmoon #shubble #pixlriffs #smallishbeans #ldshadowlady #flower husbands #seablings #mcyt #aiahs #sage writes

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dollslayer · 3 years

Text

Artistic Intention

Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve's doing well in his life drawing class, but a new muse throws him for a loop in the back supply room.

W/C: 2,374

Warnings: NO MINORS, p in v smut, unprotected sex, public sex, breeding kink if you squint, swearing

A/N: Hey! I wrote this for @buckyownsmylife 1st anniversary challenge! I love me a good AU so I chose Artist AU+ exhibitionism. Happy tumblr-versary! I made Steve a shy boi in this lol. If you liked this fic pls reblog/comment!! Check out my other fics too! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

It’s 1:45pm and Steve is desperately trying to weave his way through the crowd of people before him. His art folio hits everyone and thing as he makes feeble attempts to apologize to everyone for the bulkiness of the case. He can’t be too apologetic though, he’s running late for his 2pm life drawing class and if he doesn’t make it the professor will close the door in his face.

This is the longest 15 minutes in Steve’s life, he figures. He finally makes it up the steps and jogs up the stairs. His folio hits his leg, he winces but doesn’t stop, he’s only got a few minutes to make it up to the second floor and get himself situated behind an easel. He’s nearly out of breath when he makes it to the second floor and he’s trying to check his watch while running for the door. Two minutes.

Steve bursts through the doors and exhales loudly, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so relieved. His feeling of relief is short lived and quickly replaced with embarrassment as he realizes every pair of eyes in the room is on him. Every pair except for one. The new model for class this week, you slowly turn your head to reveal sharp eyes and a coy smile. He feels himself blush under your gaze and mutters an apology before getting settled in an easel directly in front of you.

He tries his best to focus on getting his paper and charcoals set out in an effort to shrug off the mixture of humiliation and lingering anxiety he had about being late. He feels his heartbeat begin to steady and he lets himself relax a little bit.

“Good afternoon, everyone. We have a new model in class this week, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. She’ll be keeping her current pose for one hour and repositioning for the second half of class. Mr. Rogers, since you had no problem running late I assume you’ll have no problem staying late as well. You’ll clean up after class.” The professor concludes with a short nod.

Steve sighs but nods his head in acknowledgement. He catches you smirking in amusement again at him and he can’t help but to blush all over again. He feels just like he did in high school, embarrassing himself in front of pretty girls. He sighs and picks up a piece of charcoal.

Steve decides to get a proper look at you and almost regrets it when he chokes on his own breath. You’re gorgeous, you’re coy and charming, you’re a muse. He’s still blushing because you’re naked, and beautiful and the feeling of humiliation hits him even more. He’s been in this class before, he knows the models will be naked but none of them had ever caught his attention as more than a subject, none of them were you.

He takes his time admiring your natural curves and appreciates your figure. You are so full of natural beauty, your bare face is perfectly flawed and the sun shining through the window highlights your skin tone. He can see why you were chosen to model for class, you’re perfect. He has to discreetly adjust himself and shuffles his jacket into his lap as he feels his pants tighten. He’s flustered all over again and realizes everyone else is already ahead of him. He puts charcoal to paper and gets to work.

____

As class goes on Steve’s sketch is coming along nicely. He can’t bring himself to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time for fear of getting hard again. When he sends furtive glances your way he catches you looking back at him with that smile of yours. He swears at one point you raise an eyebrow at him like you’re amused by him. He brushes it off and keeps drawing.

Class comes and goes much faster than he anticipated. He wants to pack up and get out as quickly as he can when he remembers that he has to clean up the room. He lets out a groan and waits for everyone else to leave. Now it’s only you, him, and the professor who are left in the room.

“Mr. Rogers I’ve got to get out of here, I trust you can put easels away without incident?” The professor asks. Steve nods and the professor turns to you. “Thank you for your work today, you can collect your pay from the front office. I look forward to having you as a model for this class.”

You smile and nod, waving goodbye to him. By now you’ve slipped on a robe and are reaching for your bag but it feels like you’re lingering. It’s just now that Steve realizes the two of you are alone. He swallows thickly, trying not to pay attention to you out of the corner of his eye. He begins to pack away his own drawing but not before giving it one final assessment. He can’t help himself from his own critical eye, analyzing mistakes and appreciating triumphs.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

Steve jumps in surprise, you’re peering right over his shoulder. He’s caught off guard by your presence and also by your voice, do you always sound this sultry?

He swallows and nods before taking a deep breath. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans he turns to face you.

“Uh, yeah. Yes it is. I don’t think it’s very good but I’m trying” He anxiously starts making excuses, assuming you hate it.

But you don’t. You just smile thoughtfully at him and nod.

“It’s good. At least, I think it is.”

“Th-thanks, thank you.”

“Do you always cut it that close or were you just hoping to stay late with me?”

Steve sputters at your boldness. He has to remind himself that he’s not that scrawny, measly kid he used to be. But he can’t help but feel like he is with his sweaty palms and short breaths.

“I, I um, I didn’t realize there’d be a new model. Was kind of expecting the old one. Not- not that there’s anything wrong with you, of course! I, sorry I didn’t mean to imply that, you’re- you’re beautiful too, you’re perfect really, I just. Oh jesus.” He spews the words out faster than his brain can keep up and he’s making a complete fool of himself.

He can’t bear to look at you, so he starts closing up easels and stacking stools. He doesn’t notice you ogling his muscles through his tight t-shirt.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask innocently.

“I-, um, yes. I think you’re very beautiful, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Steve answers honestly.

He moves some stools to the large supply room in the back of the classroom and you follow him.

“I think you’re beautiful too. And cute. You’re practically falling all over yourself, it’s sweet”

Are you talking to him? He still sees himself as he was back then, having a hard time thinking that anyone would look at him and find him attractive. It’s why he’s so beside himself now. You’re so completely beautiful and self-assured, there’s no way you’re talking to him. He sets down the stack he’s carrying and realizes you’re much closer than he thought. You’re inches away.

“What do you like the most about me? Is it my body? Don’t think I didn’t notice you readjusting your pants at the beginning of class.” You move even closer and Steve thinks you must be able to hear his heart beat because it’s about to come right out of his chest.

Your hands are on his chest and you have to lean up on your tip-toes for your lips to meet his ear.

“What do you say? You and me in this supply room? There’s hardly anyone here. Come on”

Steve feels like he’s dreaming, he has to check if he is. But then your hand reaches for his dick through his pants and he nearly doubles over from the sensation. He’s never been with anyone so brash and confident, your touch leaves a burning trail on his body.

“But- but what if someone comes in and sees?” He says, using every last bit of coherent reasoning he has.

“Isn’t that what makes it so fun?”

Oh, God. You. You. Smiling that devilish smile at him. He was weak in the knees and you took the opportunity to push him backwards onto a spare desk. You pulled him by the shirt collar to meet your lips and he let out a noise of surprise. Steve pushes his tongue into your mouth and lets out an obscene moan. You feel so good. He knew you’d feel good but not this good.

Steve’s large hands come to your waist and venture lower until he has a handful of your ass and grabs. You let out a little moan and nudge your knee between his legs and he grinds against it. You pull back to catch your breath when your hands go to the ties of your robes.

“We’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”

Steve doesn’t need to be asked twice as he pulls his shirt over his head. Jeans have never felt so uncomfortable and he’s frantically trying to get himself down to his boxers. He swears he goes slack jawed when he looks back up at you. He’s already seen you naked, he just stared at you naked for hours, but you’re just as gorgeous as before but it’s the way you’re looking at him. Like he’s desirable, almost like he’s a piece of meat. It makes him feel wanted and reassured and he feels himself grow harder.

Your hands slip beneath the elastic of his boxers and slowly slide them down his legs. He can’t help but flush when you let out a small gasp at the size of him. He doesn’t want to get too big of an ego with it but he’s always known he was… gifted.

Before he can let anything go to his head he lets out his own soft gasp as you stroke him languidly. He can’t control his hips as they cant up into your hand. You grab his hand and quickly lead his fingers to your dripping pussy. Steve nearly melts when he feels how wet you are and slides two fingers in easily. He’s pumping them in and out and you let out tiny mewls as you kiss his neck.

There’s no more time for preamble though, you two need to be quick if you don’t want to be caught by some unfortunate custodian. You remove your hand from his cock and he takes his fingers out of your pussy and swears you whine a little. Feeling brazen himself, he makes direct eye contact with you and sucks his fingers clean. You bite your lip and squirm while he revels in the taste.

Reluctantly he takes his fingers out of his mouth and gets up to situate you so you’re sitting on the desk. You spread your legs wide for him and he takes in the sight, committing to memory. Maybe he can draw you like this some time. For now he takes a step closer but falters, remembering one fatal flaw in this whole plan.

“I… don’t have a condom”

You don’t look let down at all, you look excited in fact. Shaking your head, you explain to him.

“Doesn’t matter, ‘m on the pill. I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Steve might pass out before he gets the chance, the way you keep talking with that mouth of yours. He wastes no more time and positions himself at your entrance. He has one hand on his dick and the other on the back of your neck when he looks you deep in the eye and impales you fully in one go.

The moan you let out is pornographic and Steve uses his newly freed hand to cover your mouth.

“We have to stay quiet. Can you do that?”

You nod silently and he removes his hand, opting to grab your hip instead.

He pulls back and begins to start pumping into you. He’s steady at first, trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly. Slowly he starts increasing his speed and the force that he uses is causing the legs of the old desk to scrape against the floor.

Your hand reaches and grabs his ass, pushing him deeper into your pussy. You feel so tight wrapped around him with no barrier and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. You’re trying to keep your moans quiet when he kisses you to silence them all together. He’s trying with all his might not to cum before you do.

His fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing it in tight circles. You have a harder time keeping quiet and you’re squeezing him like a vice. The friction on your clit and his dick hitting your G-spot perfectly is causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.

“‘M gonna cum, please. Please don’t stop” You beg. Steve feels a wave of power surge over him now that you’re the needy one.

“Go on then, I’m not far behind ya. Wanna feel your pussy cum on my cock.”

With a few moments more he has you seeing stars and you claw at his back and pull him close to you. He continues on in his movements and starts pounding into you in earnest chasing his own release. All you can do is hold on for dear life.

Steve makes one final thrust before he’s cumming deep inside you. The rush of warmth is welcome to you and you kiss his jaw as he tries to catch his breath. The only sound being both of your heavy breathing. Hopefully no one heard you.

Steve can’t believe what just happened. He met a gorgeous girl and she propositioned him in a public place all in the span of two hours. He realizes just how far he’s come from who he used to be. He looks down at you, your noses touching.

“So, what’s your name?”

#steve rogers x reader #artist!steve rogers #artist!AU #marvel fic #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fic #marvel x reader

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shoutaaizawas · 3 years

Text

↳ touya todoroki x reader → ❝safe in your arms❞

summary: your bleeding shivering and scared you stumble to the last place you thought you’d go for safety inspired by @one-lonely-whumperfly post word count: 1.9k+ tags/warnings: injury mention, blood mention, mention of being drugged, angst, fluff, light enemies to lovers a/n: ive been super unmotivated to write but this was a lot of fun so shoutout to this prompt. also it’s super cold here. hope everyone is doing well.

Dabi was enjoying a quiet night at his apartment. It wasn’t a nice place and it wasn’t in a nice neighborhood but it was the place he called home. Being around the league could be too much at times so it was nice to get away and have time alone.

He was laying across his dingy couch with a plastic cup of cheap whiskey in hand as he watched whatever was on TV when he heard banging at his door.

Dabi let out a huff as he stood up, if Toga was here to bother him again he was going to have to move and hide his new address. Opening up his front door ready to scold Toga the words disappeared from his mouth at the sight in front of him.

There you stood, slouched against the wall. Blood smeared across your face, a foggy look in your eyes, and fear and exhaustion rolling off you in waves.

There was a lot to wonder in such a small amount of time. What happened? Why did you come here? How did you even know where he lived? Granted he didn’t have time to consider these things as you were currently falling to the ground.

Dabi reached out to grab you, his arms wrapping around your waist just in time. He pulled you up letting you rest your weight on him so that you could stand.

“I didn’t take you as the type to show up at my place and fall for me.” He teased. Was it the right time for a joke, no, but he was a villain he wasn’t supposed to care about those things. Not to mention the anxious wave rolling through him was unbearable and cracking a poorly timed joke was an easy way to cope. The smirk on your bloodied lips reassured the worry of offending you that he pretended wasn’t there. Despite your acceptance of his joke, your reply was serious.

“Didn’t know where else to go.” You rasped out. There was a rawness to your answer. There was none of that hero bravado. Just fear. It stirred something in him that he had been trying to pretend wasn’t there for a long time. It was easy to brush off when you were standing tall throwing his snarky banter back at him with the same level of wit he had thrown it at you with. There was something terrifying in your vulnerability that he couldn’t exactly place. Or at least he pretended like he couldn’t place it.

“Not sure if this would even be my first choice.” He said as he readjusted getting a better grasp on you. It was tempting to pick you up and carry you over the threshold of his apartment like a princess but he resisted. With your arm over his shoulder, he helped you to his uncomfortable couch, placing you down on it. Turning on the light he tried to get a better look at you.

Squinting from the brightness of the light only made things look worse. The blood on your face was still fresh, dripping down onto your clothes. Casual clothes. He wasn’t sure if he had ever seen you in anything other than your hero costume.

He took your chin between his fingers with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of anymore, even more, surprising was how you didn’t flinch away from his touch. He wasn’t sure if that was some form of trust from you or just a sign of how out of it you were. There had to be some explainable reason you were here and not at a hero’s house or the hospital.

Looking at the cuts on your face he felt an anger rise in him that he didn’t expect. He wasn’t an innocent man, he had done this to people, he had probably done this to you at some point. Why was this upsetting him?

“Stay here, let me grab some stuff.” He said before going to the bathroom and grabbing his first aid kit from underneath the sink along with some wash clothes covered in warm water. Returning he knelt on the ground in front of you. Your eyes were closed and you were swaying back and forth even seated on the couch. He didn’t know anything about what happened but he had a bad feeling that someone had slipped you something.

“Tell me what happened.” A part of him was dying to know but he also knew you would need something to distract you from the pain of your wounds being cleaned up. Your eyes opened up and you stared at him blankly for a moment.

“Um, I- It-” You took a moment to get started. “I was at a bar. I was supposed to meet my friend. It was supposed to be a girl’s night, I got all ready, I even put on my favorite shirt.” You said looking down sadly at the black blouse you were wearing that was now covered in blood. Dabi carefully wiped away the blood on your face with the warm cloth looking for the wounds. “They couldn’t make it, hero emergency. I thought I’d at least stay for another drink since I was already there and dressed up.”

“Typical heroes, always running off.” Dabi scoffed.

“There was this guy, I didn’t think anything of it. I- I just wanted to finish my drink and go home but he started talking to me.” You said closing your eyes for a moment like you were trying to remember it all. “I thought he was maybe a fan. He wouldn’t stop talking to me, he got me a drink. I didn’t really want it but I didn’t want to be rude.”

“I would think a hero like you would be more careful.” Dabi scolded as finished cleaning up the cuts on your face. The thought of some guy bothering you made him sick which was unexpected. He moved on to cleaning the wounds on your face.

“I- I didn’t think he was dangerous.” You said in a small voice. Dabi paused, his hand resting on your chin tilting your gaze to his. For a moment he was pulled into your eyes, the warmth there even under the fear that still lingered. “I got up to leave, I was outside but my head was spinning. I didn’t drink that much, I knew something was wrong but I could barely stand up. Someone grabbed me, there was no one around, they pulled me into the alleyway there and I couldn’t do anything. My quirk wouldn’t work right, I couldn’t do anything to protect myself.”

The thought of you defenseless was far more upsetting than he could fathom. You hesitated to say what happened next, not that you really needed to, it was clear on the wounds that he was cleaning what they had done.

“Do you know who it was?” He asked trying to keep his voice even. The anger rising in him was hard to control, not that he was used to controlling himself.

“A local crime boss, or at least his guys.” You said. “I’ve been trying to stop him. He’s been using people, using their fear to get money and control from them. I’m going to stop him but he tried to stop me first I guess.”

Dabi made a note, it wouldn’t be hard for him to find him. Especially if he framed it as a business proposition from the league. That could wait, right now he just wanted to help you. How odd that was for him.

“Can’t let your guard down when you mess with underhanded criminals like that.” He said.

“What about criminals like you?” You asked. Your tone was teasing but he could hear the edge of honest interest in your voice.

“I’m a lot more straightforward. No fun beating your heroic rival when they’re already roughed up.” He said as he placed a bandage on your cheek. You had a few scratches on your face light bruises were already forming on your skin. “Let me get you some pain killers.”

Dabi returned with a glass of water and some pills before he went back to his room to find clothes you could wear. He grabbed a black shirt and some shorts.

“You can stay the night here.” He said. “Change into something more comfortable.”

You looked down at the clothes for a moment, possibly reconsidering the situation that you had put yourself in. To his surprise, you took the clothes and shakily stood up. He pointed you in the direction of his bathroom.

Dabi went into his room trying to tidy it up. Making the bed, grabbing the trash off the nightstand. He couldn’t recall the last time he had cleaned up for someone. He never cared what people thought of him or his place and it wasn’t like he had very many guests.

He turned at the sight of you in the doorway. You looked good in his shirt. You looked better in general, you had cleaned off the blood and grime that had been leftover and you looked a little more coherent now. He was still waiting for you to realize you were crazy for being here but you were still here.

You moved to lay down on the bed, pulling the thin covers over yourself.

“I’m cold.” You said.

“I don’t have any more blankets.” He replied. It wasn’t like he even needed blankets, he never got cold.

Before he could do or say anything else you grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into bed. For a moment he laid there in shock as you scooted closer to him.

The silence wasn’t awkward or tense but he found himself wondering if he should say something to break it. Social anxiety wasn’t something that Dabi faced often, you seemed to be putting him through a lot of unfamiliar moments tonight.

“Why did you come here?” He asked finally. The question had been on his mind all night. The pause of silence made him wonder if you had fallen asleep.

“I was scared and felt alone, I could barely think straight I knew I needed to go to someone but for some reason, your face was the only one in my mind.”

Dabi glanced over to you, you were looking up at him with a soft look in your eyes that made his heart flutter. Having you here tonight made him realize that his fascination with you was past that of a villain has for their rival. His interest in you was resembling a crush more than anything else at this point.

The fact that in a vulnerable state you thought to go to him, no you weren’t even thinking it was an instinct that brought you here.

“You’re safe here.” He said quietly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in. Your head rested against his chest and the way you nuzzled against him made his cheeks warm. Your eyes closed and your breathing evened and he knew you had fallen asleep.

One night had changed so much for him. He wasn’t sure if you would wake up tomorrow and regret coming here or if just maybe you felt similar to him. The thought was scary but for now, there was nothing he could do except enjoy the weight of you in his arms and think about how good it would feel to incinerate the person who had hurt you.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis-but-more-otaku @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bkghatesyou @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia @moon-write @todominica @why-so-red @kvichisaki @curiouslilbeast @izukukozume @maat-the-prescriptive

#dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki x reader #touya todoroki #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha

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yamalegacy · 3 years

Note

prompt eleven with mirko 😳

i've already done 11 with midnight but idc, i love buff bunny too much not to do it! and well, considering how it aligns with the godly possessive!rumi hcs, it's way too tempting anyway! so here goes!

prompt: #11 from this list “I bet you think you’re real cute letting them put their hands all over you. We’ll see how cute you look later when I get you home.”

pairing: mirko (usagiyama rumi) x gn!reader

cw: SMUT. afab reader. rumi is a possessive bunny. brat!reader. dom/sub dynamic. hair pulling, spanking, dirty talking, slight degradation & praise kink (yes, both at the same time, don’t underestimate rumi), fingering, strapon, slight anal fingering. oh boy this really is the filthiest thing i’ve written in a loooong time.

word count: about 3,7k words WOPS I GOT CARRIED AWAY

⚠️ MDNI reminder for minors to not interact with this post ⚠️

Your phone buzzes exactly seven minutes after you started a conversation with Keigo— he insists you call him Keigo, because Hawks is too professional and Takami is too formal, his own words. Seven whole minutes (yes, you’ve been keeping an eye on the time during the whole conversation). It’s over six minutes later than you’d expected, really. It buzzes again almost immediately, and you make a point to ignore your phone for a bit as you glance at Rumi, on the other side of the bar, over the rim of your glass.

When she arcs an eyebrow at you, visibly losing her patience, you give all your attention to Keigo again and offer him a smile before pulling your phone out of the back pocket of your jeans to check the messages you’ve no doubt received from the Rabbit Hero.

fluffy butt 🐇🤍

i bet you think you’re real cute letting him put his hands all over you we’ll see how cute you look later when i get you home

It’s almost disappointing how predictable she is with these things. Almost. Rumi is way too hot when she gets jealous for it to actually be disappointing. You want to remind her that she is the one who invited you to that bar and who left you alone to get drinks, that she is the one who got distracted by a conversation with Ryukyu, but you decide to leave her on read and see what happens.

From where you stand, you can see Rumi’s internal struggle not to just abruptly cut Ryukyu in the middle of what she is saying so that she can get right between you and Keigo. It’s quite the amusing sight, from her flattened ears to her thumping foot, her attitude reeks of frustration. You can’t help but wonder what will tick her off so much that she will intervene — Keigo has only touched you shoulder and given your arm a light squeeze and Rumi is already seething, so it seems likely just about anything would set her off.

“I can hear her thump from here,” Keigo comments, a lazy smile adorning his lips. “I’m surprised she hasn’t tried to murder me yet.”

You chuckle at his words.

“I think she’s trying to see whether or not looks can kill.”

He leans closer to you (and you know it’s much too closer to Rumi’s standards because you can smell the minty alcohol on his breath), “I sure hope looks can kill. It’d be a lot less painful than her foot up my— well, wherever she fancies shoving it, I guess.”

You don’t even have time to give him a reaction that you can hear heavy footsteps approaching, so you lean away from Keigo just enough to properly look at your girlfriend as she marches over to you. It’s only now that she is right here that you notice she’s opened her leather jacket, revealing one of her favorite crop tops — black, sinfully tight and exposing just the right amount of cleavage and abs to make your mouth water.

God, her skin always looks so tempting, you want to reach out, to put a hand on her waist, under her jacket, but she grabs you by the wrist before you can even try to move a muscle. Her eyes are fixed on you, and, to your surprise, she doesn’t even acknowledge Keigo.

“We’re leaving,” she says, her tone stern.

“Rumi... it’d be rude to leave so early,” you tell her, smiling at her with all the innocence you can muster (enough to fool anyone who doesn’t know you well), “and you are the one who wanted us to come here in the first pl—”

“We’re leaving. I remembered I have something to do.”

You want to push, to tease, to see how far she’ll go, so even if her tone leaves no room for argument, you open your mouth again.

“But you—”

“Now.”

She tugs are your arm and you follow as she takes a first few steps away from Keigo, only to turn around and face him.

“I hope you choke on your fucking feathers, birdy.”

“Always nice to talk to you, Usagiyama,” he simply smirks and gives her a small wave of his hand, “and I hope something,” he glances at you, “will enjoy getting done.”

Rumi doesn't give you any time to say goodbye to him, or to any of her hero friends, and she drags you out of the bar, heading straight for her car. She doesn't even let you register how forceful she is being that you've already been shoved in the passenger seat.

The ride home is short (too short; Rumi drives way too fast for a Pro Hero who is supposed to set an example for those around her) and awfully quiet. She didn't even look at you, didn't glance your way at least once like she usually does. Rumi's ears are still flattened in annoyance when she opens the door of her house to push you inside.

She kicks off her sneakers and takes off her leather jacket to leave it on the back of chair, then heads to the couch, sitting down nonchalantly, arms crossed under her chest in a way that pushes up her tits. All you can do is stare, unable to form a coherent thought as you settle down next to her.

“You had fun flirting with Big Bird, baby?” she asks, and the question would be innocent enough if you didn't know your girlfriend better.

You move so that you're facing Rumi on the couch, your knee bumping into a strong thigh — and maybe, for a moment, you get briefly distracted by the thought of these rippling muscles on either side of your head.

“Come on, Rumi, you know there was no actual flirting. We were just having fun.”

She leans closer to you, invading your personal space, face so close to yours that all you can see in the harsh coldness in her eyes. You barely have time to blink that one of her hands is at the back of your head, her grip on your hair surprisingly gentle.

“Oh, because you think I don’t know what little game you were playing with him there?” she is nearly snarling at you, and this time, her grip on your hair tightens, deliciously painful, and she tugs. “Why do you think I waited so long to grab you, uh?”

So, she knew? The whole time you spent talking with Keigo, flirting with him and allowing him to flirt to get a reaction from her, she knew? And it still didn't stop her from getting jealous and acting possessive in the middle of a bar, surrounded by numerous other Pro Heroes.

Her grip on your hair tightens once more and she brings you closer to her body.

"I just wanted to see how far you'd take your little game," she explains, words nearly spat through her gritted teeth. "But I couldn't take it anymore. You're mine, understood?" she asks, but the way she pulls at your hair clearly tells you that she expects no reply.

"I thought we agreed that I was my own person?" you smirk, even as she yet again tugs at your hair. "We said we don't own each other even if we're dating, didn't we?"

It is true, it's something you've talked about pretty early in your relationship together, after Rumi admitted that she could get jealous easily, but hated that she got jealous. It led to conversation about acting possessive during sex and marking, and you know that's what Rumi is going on about right now, and not some sort of ownership that she'd have over you because she is your girlfriend. But you can't help it, can't help wanting to push all her buttons and see what kind of punishment it earns you.

"You're playing smartass with me now, uh?"

She tugs at your hair again, forcing your head back slightly, but you hold eye contact, refusing to let her get the submission that she wants from you just now. You've already earned yourself a punishment, might as well make the most of it, right?

"I would never."

You smile innocently and bat your eyelashes at her, even if the pain tickling your scalp is starting to blur your sight.

She lets go of your hair without saying anything, and for just a second, you think she might be too annoyed with your act and drop the issue entirely to move on and do whatever she feels like doing for the rest of the night. But she wraps her strong fingers around your wrist and pulls, her free hand pressing harshly between your shoulder blades to push you down onto her lap, face into the couch cushion and ass up, perched over her thighs.

Well, shit.

The first spank comes unexpectedly fast and hard, you have no time to brace yourself for the impact, and your jeans do little to absorb the shock and the pain spreading through your cheek.

“Shit!” you groan through gritted teeth, trying your best not to get too loud, which is most likely exactly what Rumi wants right now.

“Got something to say, baby?” Rumi asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Nope. All good,” you mumble.

A second slap comes, matching the first one in speed and strength, leaving your ass numb from the pain. If there’s one thing you can never expect from your girlfriend, it’s for her to go easy on you.

“All good, you said?”

“Yup,” you whimper pathetically, your voice having none of the bite you wish for. Two spanks, and Rumi already has you trembling over her lap, it’s ridiculous, but you should have seen it coming, really.

She spanks you again, twice, and takes the time to brush the palm of her hand over your sore cheeks, the gesture almost soothing. She repeats the movements again, and again, before stopping to give your ass a squeeze. With each spank, you pant, forcing yourself to swallow the moans that threaten to fall past your lips.

“You’re taking your punishment really well today, baby. Trying to be good for me?” she teases, her hand now comfortably lodged between your thighs, too close to your aching core and yet not nearly close enough.

“Or maybe you’re not hitting as hard as you think you are.”

You aren't sure why you said that, aren't sure what you're doing right now, all you know is that it's dangerous because you're just provoking Rumi — it's always a recipe for disaster in the end.

She doesn't spank you though, but she snakes a hand between her lap and your stomach, pressing her fingers into your skin and pushing up until you put your weight on your knees and lift yourself up enough for her to get access to the button of your pants. Rumi hooks her fingers at the hem of your jeans and tugs, dragging them down your thighs along with your underwear.

She doesn't give you time to adapt to the cool air against your exposed bottom, doesn't let you collect your thoughts or even take a breath, before she is spanking you again. She marks no pause between each strike, just spanks and spanks and spanks. Lost in the rapid fire of her assault on your sensitive ass, you can't stop yourself from moaning — and that's when she pauses.

“Did my baby just moan?”

You stubbornly refuse to respond, clenching your jaw. You know a spank is coming, but you still aren’t ready for the pain.

“It’s okay to admit that you’re just a slut, desperate for me to touch you,” she coos, her calloused fingers gently brushing the raw skin of your ass. “Even if I’m just spanking you, you want me to touch you, don’t you? Because you’re a needy little whore for me, uh?”

Her words cause a shiver to run down your spine, straight to your core, but you press your thighs together and bit your tongue. You’re well aware what she wants you to do, what she wants you to say, but you don’t want to give it to her today. You’ve decided to play, and you won’t back down just because she’s spanking your ass raw. At your stubborn silence, she all but growls in your ear, her annoyance obvious as she slaps your burning cheek once more.

“How long do you think you can resist, baby?” she asks as her fingers trace little patterns on your back, your shirt riding up as her hand slowly moves higher. “How long til you act like the good little slut you are for me?”

You muffle your whine in the cushion, which is starting to feel uncomfortably wet from your tears and drool under your cheek. You hate it, but you can’t give in now. Rumi would be too pleased.

“Just say you’re mine, baby, say you’re my perfect good little slut,” she says, her fingers trailing down your back to settle between your thighs, an inch from where you need her most, “just say it and I promise I’ll fuck your pretty cunt so good you won’t be able to walk.”

She runs a finger along your drenched fold, and you hear her hum in delight. You hate how wet she’s making you; you can’t deny that this is all for her, that it’s the effect she has one you. Met with only silence once again, Rumi harshly pinches your clit between her thumb and index finger.

“Aaah! Rumi—” you gasp, whole body quivering.

“Say it. Say you’re my slut. Beg me to fuck you.”

“Please,” you whimper weakly.

“Uh? What did you say? Didn’t hear you, baby. Stop hiding in the couch and gimme a proper sentence.”

You nearly sob as she tightens her grip on your clit before releasing it.

“I’m your slut! All yours!” you feel your whole face burning at your own word, at the desperation in your voice. “I need you to fuck me! Please... Mirko... please fuck me.”

She chuckles, all too amused to your liking.

“See? Ain’t so hard to be good, is it?”

Before you can register what’s happening, Rumi has hoisted you in her arms and thrown you over her shoulder and is making her way to your bedroom. Your pants still down the middle of your thighs and ass bared, it’s the most embarrassing ever but you can’t even find words to express it; you can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, sticky and embarrassing.

She tosses onto the bed as soon as she is close enough to it.

“Be good and strip for me, baby. Take everything off.”

You hurry to obey, pushing your pants further down and kicking them off your feet before you start working on taking off your shirt. Rumi’s disappeared into the bathroom, so you sit patiently to wait for her, back leaning against the headboard.

When she comes back, Rumi is dressed, and you take the time to admire her beauty. The size of her strong arms obvious through the thin material of her long-sleeved crop top, the delicious expanse of tan skin of her stomach, her tight abs, the curve of her hips— you notice it only now, the thick bulge hidden under her jeans. You look up at her face, surprise written all over your features, and the smile she gives you is playful, she even wiggles her eyebrows at you.

Rumi unbuttons and unzips her pants, freeing the thickness of her strapon from them before climbing on the bed. She sits, legs spread, and beckons you closer with the simple movement of a finger.

“Suck it,” she demands, “get my cock nice and ready to fuck your cunt.”

You crawl over to her and wrap a hand around the hard silicone as soon as it’s within reach, your lips closing around its head. You circle it with your tongue, lick it, and look up at Rumi’s face, the dildo snug in your mouth. She can’t feel it, but she always enjoys when you put on a show for her.

Long gone is your little rebellious act from earlier. All you want is for Rumi to take you here and now, to have her fuck you until you pass out.

As you take more of the silicone cock into your mouth, she puts a hand on your head, and soon enough, you can feel her tight grip in your hair. You’re almost halfway when she tugs and pulls you away from her cock.

“Ass up. Face down. Now.”

You do as she orders, resisting the temptation to look up when you feel the bed dip next to you. You hear her open the drawer of the nightstand, then the sound of the lube bottle being opened. From the loud clang that follows, you know she’s thrown the bottle back in the drawer rather than bother putting it down.

Her fingers are cold when they press against your entrance, slick with thick lube that she spreads over your folds, over your clit, before pushing two fingers inside you. You grip at the sheets, low moan leaving your lips.

“Look at you, being all good for me now,” she comments, her tone teasing. “Taking my fingers so well.” This time, her voice comes from much closer, and you feel her chest pressing against your back. She kisses your neck and shoulders as she starts moving her fingers, slow and deliberate. “You want my cock, baby?”

You whimper at a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers and tighten your grip on the sheet to try and keep yourself anchored, balanced.

“Yes, please! I want your cock in me!”

She pulls out her fingers, and your cunt clenches around the emptiness. You can’t help but moan miserably. She coos above you, amused by your desperation, of course.

She pushes the thick head of the strapon against your hole, but instead of pushing further into you, she guides it up and down your folds, several time, painfully slow, spreading the slickness of your arousal mixed with the lube. You whine and push your hips back, seeking what she is refusing you. A big mistake, and you know it even before both her hands hit your ass, still raw from the spanking she gave you.

“Don’t try that again, baby,” she warns, squeezing the flesh of your in her hands as she presses the dildo against your entrance again. “You gonna be good for me now?”

“I promise I’ll be good! So, please, please fuck me!”

She pushes into you slowly, just the head, then pulls out and repeats the movement, carefully stretching you. She eases more of the strapon inside you with each move, and while you are grateful for how careful she is being, you wish she would just fuck you into the mattress already.

Finally, you feel her hips against your ass, and she pauses for a moment as her hands rest on your waist.

“You ready, baby?”

“I am.”

The pace she sets is fast, the movements of her hips quick, precise and harsh, almost unforgiving. The material of her pants feels rough against the sensitive skin of your ass, and you suspect Rumi of having kept her pants on merely to torture you that way.

Within seconds, Rumi has you panting and moaning.

“So good for me, taking my cock so well.”

She slows her quick pace to focus on deeper, more forceful thrusts. You can’t even form a coherent sentence, or even words, to respond. And when one of her hands leaves your waist, you clench your teeth and brace yourself for an impact that doesn’t come. Instead of spanking you, she is gentle as she places her hand on your ass. She doesn’t leave you time to consider asking her what she is doing that her thumb is pushing against your hole, and she keeps it set firmly in your ass as she quickens the pace again, fucking into your cunt ruthlessly, her hips slapping your ass with each thrust.

“Fuck! Mirko! Please!”

You’re babbling, unsure if the sounds that come out of your mouth are even the ones in your mind, but you can’t bring yourself to care when all you can feel is your girlfriend fucking you like your lives depends on it. And with each thrust bringing you closer to the edge, you moan, you mewl, you pant, you aren’t sure which, the lewd, wet noises of your pussy overwhelming your senses.

“Look at you, baby,” she croons, “being such a good slut for me, making such pretty noises just for me. So pretty and perfect. And all mine.”

“I’m so close! Please! I wanna come!”

She stills her hips, “then do,” she simply says, punctuating the short sentence with a strong thrust before resuming her quick pace.

It only takes a few more thrusts of her cock and her thumb pushing a little further into your ass for your muscles to clench desperately around her strap as waves of pleasure crash through your body, your limbs quivering from the unadulterated bliss clouding your mind.

She is gentle as she pulls out, kisses your back as she eases you down onto the mattress and lies down next to you.

You turn your head to look at her, and she is grinning at you as you lay limply on the bed. She caresses your cheek, soft and loving, and shifts closer to kiss you on the nose.

“You did so good, babe,” she whispers, her smile only broadening, “I’m so proud of you.”

Feeling the exhaustion invade your body, you close your eye and focus on enjoying her gentle touch as she runs her fingers along your back and shoulders.

“Let’s get you in the shower in a few minutes, yeah? I’ll have to take care of your ass. I really got carried, sorry ‘bout that.”

You chuckle sleepily at her apology.

“Don’t be sorry, you know I liked it.”

“I do know. I mean, you fucking dripped on my pants, there’s still a spot on my thigh.”

You groan in embarrassment, and you would cover your face with your hands if your muscles weren’t still twitching from your orgasm.

“Just carry my lifeless body to the bathroom.”

“Gimme a break, I’m tired too. I fucking wrecked my hands spanking you so hard, ya know?”

“You really want to compare the state of your hands to my ass?” you mutter, frowning, eyes barely opening.

It’s her turn to chuckle.

“Yeah, okay, no. Just, lemme take a breathe and I’ll take care of my baby.”

#mirko x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #mha smut #bnha x reader #bnha x you #bnha smut #🐇 usagiyama rumi ( mirko )#⚠️ mdni ⚠️#🍌 drabbles & oneshots #i need to cleanse my soul and wash off my sins #at least i didn't write mommy!mirko #which is nothing short of a miracle tbh

331 notes · View notes

masterjedilenawrites · 3 years

Note

What about a reader that is drunk, going to do some nonsense, so both Tech and Crosshair stop her, and in the next day there’s a climate btween them? Pretty please 🥺

I wasn't sure what you meant by the last part of your request so I just let the scene play out in what felt like a natural direction, I hope that's okay! I'm happy to write something else if you'd like!

Tech & Crosshair & Reader | 1.8k words

You tried to hold back your giggles as you gathered up as many helmets as you possibly could. This was going to be great. You couldn't believe you hadn't thought of this before, it was probably one of the best ideas you'd ever had in your life. Your whole body seemed to shake with excitement. Or maybe that was just the alcohol. Nah... you hadn't had that much to drink. This was a genuinely good, smart idea.

You stumbled out of the closet and down the hallway, dropping a few helmets along the way but not even noticing. It was like the edges of your vision were out of focus but surely that was just the dim lighting of 79's. It'd always been hard to see in here.

"What are doing?"

The voice came out of no where, even thought its owner was practically standing right in front of you. Arms crossed, scowl on his face, eyes studying you as you juggled a half dozen clone trooper helmets in your arms for seemingly no reason.

"Back off, Crosshair," you slurred, trying to push past him quickly. Why was he always in your business?

The sniper was too quick for you even on your good days. He took hold of your arm and pulled you back before you entered the main bar area, keeping you in the relative privacy of the hallway.

"Why are you stealing the 501st's helmets?" he rephrased his question.

"It's not stealing, it's a prank," you protested, trying and failing to get your arm out of his grasp. Another helmet tumbled to the floor in the effort.

"Oh there you are," came a new voice. It was almost as if you were moving in slow motion as you tore your gaze from Crosshair and over at the newcomer.

"Tech, tell this jerk to get out of my way," you thought you said. But whatever actually came out was apparently not as understandable. Tech looked between you and Crosshair, confused.

"Um, okay. Why are you stealing the 501st's helmets?" he asked the same question as his brother.

As if on queue, another helmet slipped out of your grasp, though you hadn't moved. At least, you didn't think you did. You huffed and ignored Tech's question, turning back to Crosshair with pleading eyes. Both men were standing between you and your chance to pull one over on the 501st, a battalion infamous for their clever pranks. And you were not going to be stopped.

"Come on Cross," you drawled. "I'm pranking the regs, you should be proud."

Even through your crazed senses, you were still able to pick up the amused twitch of his lips. But he quickly suppressed it and turned back to his usual grouchy grimace.

"Normally I would," he said, "but not like this. Not tonight."

He took a pair of helmets from you and handed them over to Tech, ignoring your whiny sounds of protest.

"He's right," said Tech, placing the helmets on the floor in the corner. "Wrecker already upset some of them tonight, I don't think they'd find this very humorous. Besides, in your drunken state..."

"I'm not drunk!" you exclaimed, probably louder than you intended judging by the flinch both men gave in response.

"Your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are bloodshot," said Tech matter-of-factly.

"And I saw exactly how many drinks you had," added Crosshair.

Tech nodded at him. "Yes, we could go on, but that should be indication enough that..."

You cut him off again, this time with tears. You couldn't help it. The whine that had almost been perpetually eking out of you during this whole conversation grew into actual cries and whimpers. Before you knew it, your cheeks were wet and your lips trembled uncontrollably.

"You're both so mean, you never let me have fun, the one time I come up with a great idea and you shoot it down like I'm an idiot, it's not fair, all I wanted was to show you that I belong here with you guys, but none of you let me, you don't care about me at all, you're such fun-busters..."

You babbled on and on, only barely making any sense to the two men who'd now freed you from your armful of stolen helmets and were gently guiding you out of the bar. You clunked along between them like a baby learning to walk for the first time, unaware of where you were going or what was happening. You could only focus on your emotional speech, and then after a few minutes, your focus was redirected to the queasy feeling in your stomach.

Thankfully the boys got you back onto the Havoc and into the refresher before you spilled your guts. Crosshair held your hair back and rubbed a hand soothingly along your spine until the worst of it passed. You fell limp next to the toilet, unable to form any coherent thoughts in the aftermath.

"Come on," Crosshair said softly by your ear. He tried pulling you up, but when it was clear you weren't going to stand on your own, he picked you up altogether and carried you over the to bunks.

Tech had pulled out one of the cots, the one everyone on the ship agreed was more comfortable than the others and thus fought over the right for almost every night. He had it set up with blankets and pillows, and he stood nearby holding a bottle of water as Crosshair laid you down.

"Just small sips for now," Tech said, holding the bottle up to your lips and helping you get down a few quick swallows, enough to calm the burning in the back of your throat. You were vaguely aware of his thumbs wiping away the remnants of your earlier tantrum from your eyes.

"Fun-busters," you muttered before curling up on your side.

Tech looked over at his brother, who only rolled his eyes at your stubbornness.

"Good-night to you, too," he said just before you lost consciousness.

* * *

The next morning was... rough, to say the least. You'd been tipsy a few times in your life, but never full-on drunk, which meant you'd also never had to deal with a full-on hangover.

Your head was splitting open, you were sure of it. Every turn of your neck made you feel sick. There was a pressure behind your eyes and a lightness to your stomach. You wanted to stay in bed forever. But even more painful than your hangover symptoms were the memories of your behavior the night before, and the urge to make amends eventually propelled you to get up.

You found Tech first, fiddling with his holopad in the cockpit. He eyed you as you carefully lowered yourself in the chair next to his, keeping a hand up to shield your eyes from the rays of morning sunlight that crept through the windows.

"I'm sorry," you said in a low, raspy voice, getting right to the point. You knew Tech appreciated when people did that. He wasn't a fan of small talk and segues, not when there was clearly something important to discuss. "I was kind of a dumbass last night, wasn't I?"

Tech set down his holopad with a shrug. "You had too much to drink. You weren't in control of your mental faculties."

You smiled at his uncomplicated way of viewing things. But then came a cough from behind, from a particularly unamused sniper leaning against the doorway.

"You were a dumbass," he said just as plainly as his brother. Well, at least they were both honest, even if it was in contrast to each other.

"I'm surprised you remember," said Tech, quickly trying to move past his brother's more negative comment. "From what I've read, memory loss is common after heavy intoxication...."

You shook your head, immediately regretting the action as it made your head ring. "I don't remember a lot, just enough to be embarrassed. If I said anything nasty to either of you, I really didn't mean it, I swear. I was just...."

You trailed off, not sure what it was you were really trying to do. You'd wanted to pull a prank, but there'd been something else driving you forward, some other motive to want to do something so stupid.

"You called us fun-busters and cried because you didn't think we cared about you," said Crosshair through the customary toothpick in his mouth.

You looked at Tech, who gave you an apologetic look that confirmed his brother's words were true. You let out a little groan and slumped into the chair. A part of you was glad you didn't fully remember.

"Do you really think that?" Tech asked. "That you don't belong here?"

You shrugged. You still weren't sure about your feelings.

"I dunno... I guess, maybe sometimes... it does feel like you treat me the way you do the regs." You spoke slowly, discovering your own thoughts as you said the words. "Like I'm just along for the ride. Just a normal person who doesn't matter. I thought if I did something to them, you'd see I wasn't part of them. At least, that's what my drunk alter ego thought, anyway."

You gave another shrug and tried for a laugh but it didn't feel quite right.

Tech looked thoughtful for a moment. "You do realize most of the regs in that club were inebriated, too. But we didn't carry any of them to bed for the night."

"Or watch as they puked their guts out," added Crosshair with a slight wrinkling of his nose.

"Yes," Tech nodded at you. "We knew you've been feeling down lately, that's why Hunter suggested we all go to that bar in the first place, to give you a chance to have some fun. Crosshair and I kept an eye on you, and Hunter and Wrecker made sure those regs didn't get upset over your, ah, attempt at a prank."

Tech let his words linger for a moment as you finally raised your throbbing eyes up to meet his.

"You belong here. And we do care. We care because, well..."

He looked over at his brother and you followed his gaze. Crosshair took out his toothpick and pointed it at you.

"Because we're your family."

He put the toothpick back in his mouth with a wink and then turned to leave, showing that that was the final word on the subject. Tech looked at you with a soft smile, one that made you finally feel at peace. You hummed as you laid back against the chair and let the feeling really take hold within you.

You belonged with the Bad Batch. They were your family.

It was a very nice feeling.

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars #the bad batch #tech #crosshair #tech & crosshair #tech & reader #crosshair & reader #my easy breezy beautiful nerd boy #my emotional support grumpy toothpick man #cw: alcohol

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