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pupkashi · 2 months

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satoru loves yapping [to you]

satoru was always chatty, shoko could definitely attest to that statement, subjected to too many conversations she definitely did not care about.

“isn’t it hotter than usual? i swear last year it was colder around this time of year-” he began, continuing to talk as shoko tried to focus instead on healing an injured itadori in front of her.

it seemed that his chatty characteristic only amplified when you were around, his eyes would visibly brighten, practically gleaming when you appeared in his eyesight.

“sweetheart! how are you? staying cold in this heat?” you can help but smile at him, walking straight into his already outstretched arms and squeezing his waist a bit, pressing a soft peck to his cheek before pulling away.

“heat? it feels so good out today!” you sigh happily, waving yellow to shoko and itadori, “it is hotter than last year though I’ll tell you that,” satoru grins at your words, turning to shoko with a flint in his eyes before turning back to you.

“that’s what I said! global warming is getting too severe-” the two of you walking out hand in hand, the taller man still talking as you listened intently.

satoru never felt the need to be quiet around you, always finding things to talk about no matter the task or the hour.

“and so you would think that since they were doing so bad they would think of making changes right?” you nod along, humming so he knows you’re listening, “but no! they keep going with same stupid strategy and it’s so frustrating as a fan to see, i just want him to achieve his dreams,” he sighs sadly.

“can you pass the salt?” you ask, taking it from his much larger hand, thanking him before speaking up again, “why does he keep resigning if they always treat him so poorly?” you ask, satoru smiles, heart warming at the fact that you really do pay attention to him.

“he’s always wanted to win with Ferrari- let me take you back to the beginning” he begins, giving you a summary of charles leclerc’s life as you finish cooking dinner.

you could always tell when he got a bit insecure of how talkative he was, but you’d always smile at him, urging him to go on. “and then what? why’d you stop talking?” you’d say, making him smile widely before quietly starting again.

“I’m listening, angel boy,” you mumble in between dreams, listening to him talk about how orange juice isn’t the same as it was when he was growing up and how the new game he downloaded was more complicated than it seems.

it could be nearing 2 in the morning but you wouldn’t mind, satoru would be discussing how and why wombats have cube shaped poops and how koalas eat eucalyptus and pandas have half a brain cell they don’t bother to use.

“it has no real nutritional value and that’s why they have to eat so much of it,” he mumbles, eyes drooping as he cuddles closer to you.

“aren’t they made to digest meat?” you whisper, head tucked into the crook of his neck, your breath running a chill down his spine.

“think so, dunno” he mumbles back, breathing evening out before he’s fully asleep.

your eyes open slowly as you crane your neck, his pink lips slightly parted as he takes soft breaths, snowy hair pointing every which way.

you can’t help but smile at your lover.

“goodnight pretty boy” you whisper, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, “my little yapper,” you chuckle to yourself, already looking forward to what he’d talk about tomorrow.

masterlist

a/n: hi friends ! just a quick little something i put together bc i miss satoru so bad lately </3 he’s def a yapper and i want to hear him talk all day and night

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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blindmagdalena · 8 months

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i'm thinking about john killing someone in front of his s/o, but that was about to kill them so his violent is seem a protectiveness. to be seem bloody and not be feared....

18+ 2.7k homelander x reader, established relationship, gore, blood, morally grey reader? shower sex, fingering, praise kink, breast play, dirty talk, rough sex, count down, needy/possessive/yandere HL, reader is nondescript with f!anatomy.

Homelander is breathing shallowly, eyes wide—wild—blood dripping from his chin and from the stray strands of hair that fell forward when he lunged. He's elbow deep in a man's sternum, and his other hand is wrapped tight around his broken neck, the bones like fragments of glass poking out from beneath rapidly cooling skin.

It all happened in an instant. One second, the man currently in his hands was grabbing you by the hair, a knife swinging wildly towards your throat, and the next he was dangling from Homelander's grasp, heart slowing against his knuckles.

He laughs through his teeth, licking his lips reflexively. The blood is sour, contaminated with god knows what, but that hardly takes away from the thrill of the moment.

It's been a while since he held the gaze of someone whose life he just claimed. Long enough that he forgets where he is, and who he's with.

He drops the man to the ground like a wet sack of potatoes, innards spilling out from the hole his arm leaves behind. In the man's hand, Homelander sees something that sets his teeth on fucking edge: strands of your hair ripped from your scalp in that limp, dead palm.

"You stupid motherfucker," he growls through a crooked sickly smile, lifting his boot to crush the hand like it were nothing more than an insect. The man's heart has long since stopped, but the rapid pound of another is still loud in his ears.

Yours.

Slowly, he turns around to look at you. You're cradling your skull where you'd been grabbed, tears gathering in your wide glassy eyes, the shock of it all catching up to you. You're staring intently at the corpse, watching blood pooling out from beneath it.

You've never looked at him with fear in your eyes before, but that's precisely what he sees when your eyes meet his. It makes him bristle internally. What was he supposed to do? You were in danger, and the way you screamed will follow him into his nightmares.

He could have lost you just now. You could be the one soaking in a puddle of your own blood, losing your life to the press of nothing more than a flimsy metal blade. While Homelander has always been logically aware of your humanity and the tender vulnerability that entails, nothing has ever put it so viscerally in the forefront of his mind as a freak incident coming so close to erasing you from his life.

He did what he had to. You'll understand. You have to understand.

"Hey," he says, hands raised to you placatingly, as if coaxing a spooked wild animal. The blood just makes his crimson gloves look glossy. He blocks your view of the body. "Hey, it's alright."

Your terror is palpable in the race of your heart and the sour smell of adrenaline coursing through you.

He reaches for you with the hand that isn't drenched in viscera, but before he can take hold, you beat him to the punch, throwing yourself into his arms, your own wrapping tight around his middle, hands clasping together beneath his cape.

Caught off guard, Homelander's arms hover awkwardly for a beat before he returns your embrace. He'd been certain that he was the source of your fear after a display like that.

"He just-he tried to kill me," you rasp, tears overflowing, spilling down your cheeks, wetting his suit further. "Yeah, yeah he sure did. S'alright, he's not gonna hurt you again," he coos, stroking your back with one bloodied hand, the other cupping the back of your neck. He kisses the top of your head as you cry, working the shock and fear from your system. "Ssshhh, shhshh."

Looking over his shoulder once, he lifts you up into his arms and takes off gently into the night sky, keeping you gathered close as he flies, carrying you far away from the mess spilled all over the pavement.

Not his problem. His focus is you.

With your face buried in the crook of his neck, he can feel your tears rolling down into the collar of his suit, can smell the sea salt sweetness of them. He's never let you see that side of him before. When the shock wears off, will you see the moment for what it was?

Will you realize how much he enjoyed it?

Landing on his balcony, your arms are still tight around his neck. Neither of you have said a word since take off. He's not sure where your head is, other than the fact your racing heart has slowed to a more natural—albeit still nervous—patter.

Inside, he sets you down gently on your feet. Your balance wavers, and he settles you with his hands on your hips, staining your clothing with smears of dark blood.

He's almost afraid of breaking the tenuous quiet, but he needs to know where your head is. When you glance away, are you looking towards the door, planning your escape?

His hands tighten reflexively on your hips, and your eyes spring back up to meet his.

"You okay?" He asks quietly, warily.

"Yeah," you say, though it's hardly convincing.

"You're in shock," he says, touching the side of your face. Enough of the blood has been wiped on your clothes that it doesn't transfer much to your skin. "You remember what happened?"

Maybe your distress will leave you malleable enough for him to shape the incident just right. Make sure that you remember first and foremost that- "You saved me," you say, cutting his thoughts short. "That man was trying to hurt me, and you... you saved me."

His brows lift, surprised to hear you say it first. "Yeah. Course I did."

"You were so..." You trail off, gaze moving along his features.

Apprehension prickles from his spine all the way up to the back of his neck. He's accustomed to being scolded for his brutality by Madelyn, or looked on with thinly veiled disgust by Maeve.

They're both long gone from his life now, yet he finds himself waiting with bated breath for your response, his throat tight under the gripping hands of the ghosts of his past.

"Amazing," you exhale, banishing his specters with the sweeping wind of your breath. "God, I've never been that scared in my life, but you reacted so fast. No one has ever protected me like you do," you say, cupping his blood spattered face in your palms, smearing it into thin pink swaths across his skin with your thumbs.

He breaks into a slow, pleased smile. "Well, you've never been with anyone like me before."

"No," you agree. He can still feel a slight tremor in your hands, your body still coming down from the adrenaline high. "And I never will."

That strokes his ego deliciously. He likes the finality in your voice, the dreamy way you're looking at him, even as the smell of blood hangs heavily in the air. He almost kisses you before he remembers he's got the blood of some random thug all over his face.

"I need a shower," he says, lips close enough that his breath teases yours.

"Me too. Guess we'll have to share," you say, feigning resignation.

He grins. "Uh oh."

In the bathroom, Homelander makes quick work of undressing, but you're faster. You're already in the large shower, steaming water pouring down from above. He steps in with you, letting the water wash over you both. The water turns pink as it carries the blood away, and then sudsy as you both soap and shampoo the mess of the day from you bodies.

Once he's rinsed, he slips in behind you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling into the crook of your neck. "I love you," he says at your ear, trailing kisses down to the lobe, to your neck. He loves the feel of goosebumps rising against his lips.

"I love you, too," you respond as you have a thousand times before. Maybe more. He stopped counting when he was sure you'd never stop.

"How much?" He prompts, hungry for more. Your praise and assurance after a moment of such uncertainty has only made him desperate for more. He wants to wring more pretty words of admiration from you, hear more of just how good he is to you.

He can't help but color your answer with a slip of his hand between your thighs, toying with your clit.

The touch earns a shivering sigh from you. "So much. More than I can stand sometimes," you say, leaning your head back against his shoulder.

"I thought you'd be scared of me after seeing what you saw... What I'm capable of," he murmurs, pillowing the reminder with deft, wet fingers. "Are you?"

You shake your head. "No, m'not, mmm... You'd never hurt me," you say, breath hitching as his fingers slip in further, fingertips stroking the lips of your pussy.

"Never," he echoes, his other hand slotting over your throat just to feel each noise you make. He pulls you back flush to his body, presses his hardening cock to the curve of your ass with his a shaky groan. "I liked it," you admit quieter, moaning when he slides his middle finger inside you. The confession stirs something primal in him, makes him growl out a rough little noise against your skin, grinding his cock into you.

"I wanted to rip his fucking guts out for touching you," he says, working another finger into you, savoring the slick, velvet feel of you around them. "For trying to take you from me." His words make your cunt quiver. He can't help himself, has to pull them from you just to taste you, sucking the nectarine sweet flavor from his fingers, rolling his tongue between them, hungry for every ounce of it.

He moans around his own fingers when you reach back and take his cock firmly in your hand, jerking him slowly. "I want you inside me," you say, your legs spreading slightly, back arching into him. "Touch me until yours is the only one I remember."

Fuck. Yes, that he can do.

You let go of his cock, and he wraps an arm around your waist, guiding himself between your wet, soft thighs. You close your legs, earning a breathy noise from him as he rocks between them, the warm, wet heat of your cunt a tease along the top of his cock.

"Take me," he murmurs fervently at your ear. "Wanna be in you, feel you, fuck you, make your pussy mine."

Shuddering against him, you reach down between your legs. Pressing your fingers to the underside of his cock, you push it up as he moves forward, the thick head of it catching on your entrance and splitting you open in one long, slow thrust.

Christ, you're so fucking tight. He can feel your muscles contracting, flexing, pulling him deeper. Your cunt feels made for him.

No one will ever take you away from him.

His right hand goes across your chest, cupping your left breast and rolling your nipple between his thumb and index finger while he braces you tighter to him. He rolls his hips slowly at first, relishing the tight, slippery pull of your cunt before he begins to pick up a proper pace.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" He grits out, the slap of naked skin against skin loud in the shower. "Tell me how good it feels."

"Feels like being fucked by the fucking sun," you moan, gripping his arms, useless for anything other than taking his cock when he holds you like this. "Hot, you're so hot inside me, and I can feel... I can feel you holding back, it's like you're vibrating," you say, voice catching with every solid thrust. "It's like... it's like getting as much as I can take from something so much bigger than me."

He doesn't know what he expected to hear, but it isn't that. The idea that you can feel the true gravity of his power behind each restrained thrust drives him wild, makes him want to give you more, but he knows he can't. Not without breaking you. Sweet, frail, human thing that you are.

If he could, he would break you apart, fuck you until you fall to pieces in his hands, and then he would put every single fragment back where it belongs, but he can't. If he breaks you, he will lose you.

He needs you to survive him.

"Fuck, fuck," he rasps, holding you that slight bit tighter, lifting you nearly off your feet as he arches his back, lifting and dropping you onto every thrust of his hips. "M'gonna come," he says, voice reedy. "Come with me, let me feel you. I know you're close, can fuckin' feel it. Touch yourself for me, sweetheart."

Immediately, you drop a hand to your clit, the tips of your fingers brushing where he's pounding into you. The touch must be electric because you jolt against him. "I am, I am," you whine, rubbing yourself, the pleasure making you squirm.

"M'gonna count us down, alright? And you, mmmgh, you're gonna come with me," he says, already fighting to hold himself back. Your cunt is only getting tighter the closer to release you get, making it hard for him to stay focused.

"Five... four," he manages to say, desperately holding onto his final tethers of control. You're beyond speech now, reduced to nothing more than desperate, needy noises as you finger your clit, not even bothering to try and hold yourself up while Homelander mercilessly bounces you on his cock,

"Three... two..." His words are strained, balls drawn up tight, cock throbbing in the slick grip of your cunt. He needs to come so bad it makes his toes curl, but he won't let go until he feels you coming undone.

"One..."

One, two, three more thrusts, and you're screaming his name, knees curling up, your whole body tightening like a vice. The spasm of your orgasm rips his clean out of him, has him gasping into the crook of your neck.

He comes so hard his vision goes white, every movement halting, his focus purely on the ardent pounds of his cock emptying deep inside you, flooding you so thoroughly that the excess spill back down his shaft, his balls, mingling with the hot water and making him shiver from head to toe.

When he can, he takes in a deep, shuddering breath, easing his hold on you, though not by much. You're all but limp in his arms, panting, head lolled back against his shoulder. He lets the water run on the two of you a little while longer, savoring the aftershocks of your release before gingerly slipping out of you.

Carefully, he rubs the water between your thighs, tenderly cleaning you, kissing your neck, your shoulder.

"That was..." You trail off, words half slurred, and then you just laugh softly, the marvel clear in your voice.

He laughs, too, his own voice frayed. "Sure was."

The two of you put as much effort as it takes to get dry before making your way to bed, slipping beneath the cool sheets and rapidly warming them with your bodies, Homelander's in particular. He's always run hot, and you seem extra appreciative for it tonight, wrapping your arms around his waist and snuggling into his arms.

"I love you," you mumble sweetly.

Homelander draws the covers up over your shoulders before slipping his arm around you, drawing you into the warm, safe circle of his arms. "And I love you," he purrs, gently rolling his knuckles up and down your back.

You look peaceful, he thinks, watching as you begin to drift to sleep. He's sure it helps that he wore you out so thoroughly, but still, he'd anticipated that the shock of the evening would still have you worked up. It could be that you're still processing, that the trauma will return in nightmares that follow you into the night.

Maybe the threat of a rat simply makes less of an impact when you're cradled in the jaws of a lion.

Regardless, should you sleep fitfully or peacefully, he will be here.

No force in this would can keep him from you.

#homelander x you #homelander x reader #i blacked out and wrote 85% of this yesterday #i desperately wanted to finish it but had plans fghjkl #anyways wow! a brief reprieve from my writers block?? a temporary break in the dam????#i had so much fun writing this either way #thank you for sending this!!#not proofread we die like men #my writing #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #smut

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dawnbreakersgaze · 10 days

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Excuse me but the idea of MC and Xav sitting on their respective balconies and texting each other The Tea while people watching in their neighborhood is both so silly and so endearing to me.

So let's go on a small adventure, shall we?

Warnings: None.

Just fluff. Pure, unadulterated fluff.

The late morning sun was already warming you through the windows of your tiny apartment before you'd even stepped foot outside. It was finally mid-spring in Linkon, which meant you could enjoy your late breakfast on the patio without having to worry about a stray chill or errant frost dampening your weekly Saturday 'brunch' plans.

Opening the patio door with your granola bar in one hand and phone in the other, you settle into the cushioned bench that overlooked your apartment courtyard and took a deep breath. Sometimes it felt like winter was neverending in Linkon, but you could finally feel the tension of the gripping cold that had settled in your bones start to slowly bleed from you.

After getting comfortable, you finally pulled out your phone, and quickly found your brunch 'date's' contact info, sending him the customary "Get up it's people watching hour" text.

[Hey Xav, you up? I'm already on my balcony?]

It doesn't take long for his reply. This has been your weekly tradition for a few months now. Ever since you had both just so happened to see that kid getting dragged down the street by the monstrous hound, it had become something of a... habit for the two of you to text each other the funny happenings on your street when you were home. Not that either of you were particularly prone to gossip, but the simple domesticity of it was oddly comforting after a long week of getting slogged on by wanderers.

[Yeah I'm up. Give me a sec]

The soft ping of your notification broke the peace, followed shortly by the shuffling of his patio door sliding open from above you. Sure, you could simply call out and greet him, as the acoustics out here are great and the soundproofing is atrocious, but the silence is cozy, and the atmosphere almost feels magical. This is your ritual, after all.

It's a bit like a storybook scene, you think, the two of you sharing a moment in time together yet still separated by some outside force. Maybe it was silly, but the fabricated longing almost made it feel romantic in a way that you're sure your neighbor would find ridiculous.

When you hear his footsteps above you come to a halt, you immediately notice something in particular is missing, however.

[You forgot your coffee Xav. Are you gonna be able to stay awake?]

[How could U tell?]

[I didn't smell any burning 🤭🔥]

He doesn't reply, but you can hear the huff he makes over the railing as his footsteps retreat, fading behind the sliding door once again. You don't even try to hold back the laughter his reaction elicits from you, hopeful the concrete carries it to him easily.

When he finally does reemerge, faint smell of bitter charred beans on the wind, his phone is already buzzing with the morning's newest additions to your people watching portfolios.

An older man you'd long ago dubbed "Green Thumb" who liked to frequent the flower garden outside your apartment complex was already taking photos of the new stargazer lily blossoms that had just opened this morning. So enamored by the vibrant petals, he didn't even seem to notice the couple he'd backed into who'd happened to spill their groceries all over the sidewalk. You heard Xavier call "Watch out!" From above you when he'd recognized the impending impact, but at your distance, it was no use.

[That was nice of you Xav. Too bad it didn't help 🫠]

[I can't believe they didn't see Green Thumb. He was so hard to miss. Even when Ur distracted U still see better]

[HEY! I'm not the one who sleep walks! 💀]

[And yet I'm always there to guard Ur back partner]

He's right of course, though you're not going to tell him. Xavier likes to play the part of a soft and harmless little thing, but it doesn't take much to stoke the hunter into burning hotter than you intended. His evol might be light, but you know better than anyone that light, under careful concentration, can start a blazing fire if you're not mindful. His teasing isn't ever harmful though, so instead you decide to simply poke the bear.

[Only because I'm starting to suspect you like it back there]

The distinct sound of a phone accidentally hitting the concrete marks the end of that thread.

Its not long before another of your regulars, pair of young kids Xavier had called the Trouble Twins arrived on scene. Aptly named for the number of times their poor mother has chastised them for chasing the ducks and picking the flowers, the siblings were quite the rambunctious duo. Today they seem to be a few steps ahead of their vigilant mother, rushing into the park with high-pitched hollers and improvised swords made of small branches they'd found. Today's unfortunate conquest seemed to be the pigeons that were being fed by the local grannies.

[They look like a pair of knights today don't they?]

[Knights? Don't knights usually protect people?]

[Maybe they're protecting us from the pigeons]

[Xavier those old ladies look pretty mad idk. That one even tried to chase the boy and almost caught him!]

The pause in messages was punctuated by his soft laughter above you, carried on the spring breeze. It was so warm, so genuine, so comfortable. You didn't need a mirror to feel the heat bloom in your cheeks; the overwhelming sensation of ardor flooding you at the the very sound.

[You're right. He needs more training. A good Knight should never be caught by an old lady]

[.... I don't think that's the message here Xav]

The rest of your morning goes back and forth like this for another hour. Watching your favorite people pass by, concocting new and interesting stories for them as they pass your balconies. Xavier has very interesting and oddly insightful opinions on those around him, considering you don't really recall seeing him with many friends. None the less, his company and companionship on your balconies has easily become your favorite part of the week. The only noises between you are the laughter that passes back and forth as the texts volley from one to another.

Finally, as the afternoon sun starts to become an uncomfortable heat, your phone chimes once more.

[I'm getting kind of hungry]

[Oh good. You're warning me this time. Thanks!]

[What?]

[No. I was going to ask if U wanted to go to lunch. With me, I mean?]

And just like that, the storybook was snapping shut. No longer a fragment lost in time where two people gazed at the same scene together from two separate places, but a tangible moment you could step into. Something intimate and real.

Perhaps you stayed in this thought a moment too long, or your silence below him made him second guess himself, as the chime of your phone snapped you out of your daze again.

[I didn't mean to impose if U have plans]

[I know it's Ur day off too]

Fumbling with the suddenly slippery device, softly cursing, and praying he didn't hear, you quickly hammer out the only thing that's been playing in your head on repeat-

[Yes absolutely! I'd love to grab some lunch I'm starving]

[Meet me downstairs in 30?]

#look i had 3 hours of sleep and i chose to this idk why #written in a single go like a psychopath #and now im going to bed gnight ♡#lnds #love and deepspace #lads #l&ds #love & deepspace #xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier lnds #xavvy baby #kay writes #this text was just too cute I had too i was over come with emotions #god why is Xavier so adorable ugh #so soft boy sometimes i love himb #also-#not proofread we die like men #sorry im Le~ tired ill edit tomorrow

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save-the-villainous-cat · 6 months

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I ordered an empanada at a restaurant and do you know what they gave me? A FREAKING MEATLOAF WITH THE SHAPE OF AN EMPANADA 🤧

Anyways how’s your day ma’am? Can I ask for a mind controlled hero whumpee? Feel free to ignore if you don’t want

The villain tilted their head, clearly amused.

They sat in front of the hero who was well-behaved and listening to every word they said. It was true, they could be quite charming when their rebellious side wasn't constantly getting in the way. This version of the hero was much more manageable.

"Isn't this fun?" the villain asked. "We're having fun."

No answer, as expected.

"I could tell you to break your hands in front of me and you would do it without hesitation. How romantic." The villain scrutinised them. Their hero didn't look like they missed anything. They got food. They got time for themselves. The villain considered themselves a kind captor. "The loyalty, I mean. Takes me back, really."

They smiled to themselves softly. When they looked at the hero, they were still the same person. Still the former best friend they had had a crush on. Still the same eyes, still the same scars. The villain didn't know what to do with it, didn't know where to put their feelings. It was such an old wound, long surmounted but never forgotten. A deep scar that would never really heal.

"You followed me like a dog. I can't really blame you, can I?" The villain started to play with the seam of their shirt. An old habit they could never get rid of. "I played that part pretty well."

Their gaze wandered to the window. It had been grey all day.

For the past few weeks, the villain had perfected their abilities to manipulate the hero, controlling their mind and taking it apart. It had been fun, indeed. Until it wasn't anymore. Once again, they looked at the hero who was listening, yet not responding.

"All these years I had to let you humiliate me. I had to watch when they cheered for you," the villain mumbled. They were talking to themselves rather than to the hero. However, some part of themselves wanted the hero to listen to this.

"Is it too much to ask for? Some silence? Some peace?" they asked the hero. They knew no answer would come and no reaction would follow. "Is it too much to ask for, truly?"

The oppression they had endured had been crueler to their heart than they wanted to admit. The whole world was against them. They had been abandoned, betrayed, tortured. They didn't even have words left for their own actions. Although they wanted to be protected again, the villain knew they didn't deserve it.

Eventually, they sighed and stood up, walking around the table. They sat down next to the hero and remembered that awful night when they had kissed. For months, years even that memory had become a nightmare. Once the only thing that gave them comfort, now a painful thought.

But the hero...they were still beautiful.

The villain moved some strands of hair out of the hero's sight.

"Sometimes I wish you weren't here anymore. Sometimes, I want to wake up and see that you're gone. You've been hunting me, haunting me for years and I..." The villain swallowed. "And I want you to leave. I thought imprisoning you and treating you badly would give me peace but...I'm not sure how I can kill these feelings."

They felt themselves become more emotional than they usually allowed. They took in a deep breath and closed their eyes, counting till five. Their hand was shaking. Tears gathered in their eyes.

"I lied a lot back then. But I never lied about my feelings for you. That wasn't a game to me."

They took the hero's hand and squeezed it. The villain wasn't surprised when the next morning, they found themselves alone in their apartment.

#A MEATLOAF???#wtff #NOT PROOFREAD WE DIE LIKE MEN #hope this is oke #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #hero #villain #heroxvillain #hero x villain #request #an answer for an ask #emotional whump #i think

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

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HUMIDITY & HEAVEN

tags: camp counselor! touya au, non-canon universe, quirkless au, college student! touya who is just some guy and has a summer job as a camp counselor, i think reader is referred to as ‘she’ and ‘girlfriend’ once, purely self indulgent bc yuna mentioned it to me and i couldnt stop...can u tell i work in childcare | wc: 2.4k

The air is so hot that it feels heavy in your lungs.

It’s the hottest day of the summer. You feel the heat radiating from the metal of the swing-set you rest against. Touya silently leans beside you, bucket hat on his head as he swings his water bottle around in hand.

“How are yours today?”

Touya takes a hefty swig of his bottle. He offers you one with a wordless lift of his hand, but you shake your head. You watch his piercing duck in and out between his teeth as he chews on his chapped lower lip.

“Annoying, as usual. We already had two fights and a bathroom incident, and it’s only…” he trails off, patting his pockets for his phone to check the time.

With yours in hand, you beat him to it, “10:47am.”

“Fuck,” he groans, tilting his head back against the pole of the swing-set in agony, “it’s not even noon, yet.”

You scrunch your nose with a chuckle at his dramatics, before closing your eyes in agreement. “It’s gonna be one of those days,” you declare.

The two of you watch the campers run around in silence. Little legs carry them as fast as they can go around the grassy fields and over the littered tree stumps. A ball catches against a soccer net. Heavy footsteps clank around on the sturdy metal of the playground equipment.

“What’s your activity this afternoon?” his voice breaks up the comfortable silence you’ve been held in.

“Friendship bracelets, you?”

He grumbles, “Fuckin’ kickball.”

Yikes. Suddenly, friendship bracelets don’t sound too bad. You don’t mind the activity, as it usually consists of a silly group of girls who bother you about foolish things like their current crushes and favorite movie characters. Plus, you get to sit in the cafeteria with air-conditioning. Meanwhile, Touya’s stuck hustling outside with rough-housing boys and humidity that feels borderline criminal.

“My condolences,” you half-heartedly tease.

Touya grunts in response, unimpressed with how his rest of the day seems to be planned out. Sure, he doesn’t want to make friendship bracelets, but he’d take sitting on the cool cafe floor with you and a few other campers over playing kickball referee any day.

A group of voices captures your attention, and Touya’s follows soon after. A few campers, mixed in ages and interests, are beckoning Touya over to where they play.

You recognize the kids. They’re well behaved for the most part, aside from the occasional jokes going too far and bad attitudes from long days in the sun. They’re calling his name and waving him over with their little dirt-covered hands. With a scan of their crowd, the two of you are quick to recognize that they don’t need anything—no one’s crying or hurt, no blood or tears or frowns on their faces. They’re most likely bored and looking for their favorite counselor to torture.

With a smirk, you nod your head their way, “I think you’re being summoned.”

Touya rolls his eyes. “Maybe, but I’m ignoring them until I have no choice.”

His comment gets a laugh out of you, and he’s grateful. Maybe you think he meant it in a way that would succeed in him spending less time with his kids, or maybe you’d actually read between his lines and see that he meant it as a plan to spend more time with you. Either way, he buys his time.

It doesn’t last long, as it’s not even two minutes later before the group is now making their way over towards him. They giggle and prod his sides, teasing and grabbing him to come play with them. Their cheeks are blushing and plump, which mentally reminds you to reapply their sunscreen within the next hour.

Eventually, Touya succumbs, “Okay, alright, I’m coming. Get your grubby hands off of me.”

The little bodies pull him away from you, much to Touya’s dismay. You let him leave you with an enthused look adorning your face.

You call to him as he’s practically dragged away to the playground, “Have fun with kickball later. Hit one out of the park for me, will you?”

“Yeah yeah,” he waves you off with a quick flick of his middle finger before recollecting himself in front of his little ones. “Why don’t you make me a bracelet while I’m at it?” he jokingly suggests.

You decide to take him up on his offer.

...

Outside time eventually comes to an end and the counselors round up their groups, bringing lines full of tired and sweaty elementary schoolers into their next events.

The kids have a choice between multiple different activities. You’re not surprised to see your usual friendship-bracelet-buddies making their way over to your assigned table.

A group of girls bobble their way over. Talking one another’s ears off, they’re just as energetic and bubbly as they were when they walked through the doors this morning. You can’t help but bitterly wonder how the heat doesn’t tire them out.

One of the girls notices you and is quick to softly elbow her friend, getting her attention with a not-so-silent pssst! The girls exchanged a few excited looks before one of them takes a seat next to you and asks for a piece of string to begin her bracelet.

Kids are weird, so naturally, you think nothing of it.

Time passes as it usually does. The girls keep themselves busy with a few comments or questions for you every now and then. Eventually, the girl beside you calls your name once more.

Expecting her to ask for help with weaving her bracelet or to complain an inquiry of when lunchtime is, you turn—but the question that leaves her mouth is one unprecedented.

She smirks, almost as if she knows something you don’t, before teasing, “Are you and Touya married?”

Giggles erupt in the circle formed around you as the camper drawls out the end of her question into a high pitched shriek. You slightly wince at the abrupt noise before continuing to weave the yarns of your bracelet.

“No, we aren’t married.”

“Is he your boyfriend?”

Another round of giggles bubbles throughout the group. As if their joy was contagious, the handful of girls bounce off of once another’s reactions at the taboo topics of love and dating.

“No, he’s not,” your reply is a bit winded, but you're entertained, nonetheless, “who said that?”

Another tiny camper jumps into your space while eagerly bouncing around on her heels.

“Someone said they saw you guys kissing by the slide!” Her tiny curls bob up and down as she practically crawls out of her own skin with excitement.

You smile at her innocent enthusiasm before urging her to sit back down and work on her bracelet.

“Well, that’s a lie,” you assure them, “I wouldn’t kiss Touya. He smells.”

The girls release another gaggle of outrageous laughter, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve won by making your little six-year-old friends smile so hard. They go wild at your response, some of them agreeing while others merely hide their giggles behind their palms.

“I’m gonna tell him you said that!” one camper beams as she points an accusatory finger at you.

You shrug with mischief as you place a few more beads onto your string, “Be my guest.”

...

The hottest day of the year eventually comes to an end. The very last camper is picked up by their guardian, and the remaining counselors are officially off the clock and sent home—just to do it all over again tomorrow.

Touya waits for you by the back door of the building. He likes walking out with you at the end of the day. He claims it’s a thing of habit, that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it most of the time, but you know it’s because he likes to make sure that you get to your car safely.

It’s still muggy outside as you go through the back entrance. The sun may have set, but the humidity persists.

He lingers by your side as you make your way to the parking lot. “Rumor has it, I smell,” he scrunches his nose in distaste.

You cough back a laugh and Touya raises his eyebrows at your failed attempt of hiding your amusement.

You brush it off with a shrug, “Sometimes rumors are true.”

He grins. “Well, in that case,” he positions himself in front of you so you stumble on your own steps, “rumor has it, we kiss underneath the slide everyday. Any truth to that one?”

You roll your eyes before walking around his lanky frame.

“Nope,” you simply state, “I think I’d remember kissing you by the slide.”

‘‘Why? ‘Cause I’d make it worth your while?”

You scoff. “No, because I don’t have short term memory loss.”

You finally reach your car and Touya leans against the driver side door, blocking it to prevent you from climbing in and leaving him mid-conversation. Though he’d rather die than admit it, he’s not quite ready to say goodbye to you just yet.

As if you’ve read his mind, your next question has him soaring.

“Are you working tomorrow?”

He presses his tongue against the metal of his piercing as he cockily throws his head back, “I haven’t even left yet and you’re this excited to see me, already?”

You press a hand into his side as you push him off of your car. He chuckles when you roll your eyes at his cheeky comment.

“Yeah,” he steps aside, letting you reach around for the car’s door handle, “yeah, I’ll be here tomorrow.”

You smile at him, and it’s the one he loves, the one he’s oh-so-very familiar with. The one where you pretend to be annoyed with his antics, but the childish gleam in your eyes gives you away.

“Okay,” you softly smile. Touya eyes the bead of sweat dancing along your hairline. Though the two of you are in desperate need of showers, he doesn’t seem to mind.

He sticks his hands into his pockets, “Y’know, there’s still time to bring that rumor to life. It’s not too late.”

“Touya, I am not kissing you beneath the slide. Take me out to dinner first,” your response is meant to be sarcastic. It’s meant to poke fun at his silly request, to redirect the pressure since the implication has your throat running dry.

However, Touya surprises you, as he always seems to do.

“Alright, I will,” he decides.

Your eyes snap up from the handle and to his own. You bore into them, to see if he’s joking, if he’s pulling your leg just to hit you with a classic, you should’ve seen the look on your face!

He doesn’t. He remains silent as he awaits your response.

A bit shocked at his blunt request, your mouth remains ajar, “Really?”

Touya simple nods. You see his smile meet his eyes as he laughs beneath his breath. He opens your car door for you, and ushers you inside with a silent wave of his hand.

You find yourself nodding in return at his wordless actions, “Sure, we can talk about it tomorrow,” you conclude as you climb into the driver’s seat. “Meet me by the slide.”

Touya simply gives you a thumbs up, for he’s afraid that if he speaks, his voice will waver like a tiny camper’s when they get too excited.

Before you close your car door, you reach into your bag and hand him something. He doesn’t look down to see what it is until you’ve driven away.

Once your car is out of his line of sight, his eyes flicker down to what sits in his hand.

A flimsy bracelet woven of string into braids makes a circle in his palm. The colors of red, pink, and white dance along one another through the entirety of the strings. In mismatched beads, with letters of all different fonts and sizes, reads a simple word.

Smelly.

...bonus scene!

The clock on the wall reads 8:21am, meaning Touya’s been working for an entirety of two hours and twenty-one minutes. It feels like he’s been withering away in the confines of the building for eons, now.

One camper returns from the bathroom in a new change of clothes, since he wasn’t able to make it to the toilet on time. In the corner of his eye, Touya can see two other campers bickering with their hands and exchanging harsh words. He expects it to escalate, preparing himself to intervene once someone starts to cry.

The morning has barely begun and he’s already exhausted.

He hears the whiny voice of one of his youngest campers at his side, before he feels a weak tug on his t-shirt.

“Touyaaaaaaa,” is dragged out in a nasally song from a boy by his feet.

He’s quick to bark back without any real bite, “What now?”

The boy’s expression quickly turns devilish, “Do you have a girlfriend?”

Touya furrows his brows at the unexpected question. Not caring enough to play mind games with a five year old, he shrugs. “Depends, who’s askin’?”

“Is Y/N your girlfriend?” the camper clarifies with a cat-like grin.

Touya’s heart stops beating for a moment, just a moment, before he decides that this could be fun.

“Yeah, actually. She is.”

With an excited yell, the boy wastes no time shouting the news to his fellow peers, causing a ruckus and feeding the fire that is a classroom of feisty kindergartners in the summertime.

The group around him is quick to ignite with chatter and screeches. Tiny little I told you so!’s and How romantic!’s fill the conversations erupting around him.

Another camper tries to jump on his back, Touya catches her with a stagger as he hoists her upwards while she clings to his shoulders, “Do you guys like, kiss and stuff?”

He smiles to himself, before sliding her out of his arms, “Oh yeah, everyday. You guys don’t see us by the slide?”

“Ewwwwww!” ricochets off the walls of the building. The kids laugh themselves into oblivion, and Touya fans the flames.

“We kiss by the swings sometimes, too.”

Another obnoxious chorus of shrieks and fake gags commences.

Yeah, it might’ve been a rough morning, but Touya’s gonna have a fun day.

#not proofread we die like men #touya todoroki #dabi #touya fic #dabi fic #touya fluff #dabi fluff #touya x reader #touya todoroki x reader #dabi x reader

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134340am · 2 years

Text

54. tracing your lips against the corner of your lover’s mouth

sawamura daichi x gn!reader, 0.4k words, sfw

“this loveseat isn’t big enough for us to cuddle on.”

“what? no, it’s just fine!” daichi throws a leg over yours, pulling you closer to him—what was a fine view of his bobbing adam’s apple goes black as he unceremoniously stuffs your face into his chest.

you laugh, stiff and squished into the back of the loveseat. you reckon you’ll start overheating in say, maybe five minutes from now, but you suppose you’d rather spend the five minutes wrapped up in your husband’s arms than complaining further.

“it’s getting kinda hot,” he comments as if he read your mind.

“your fault—you’re basically a giant heater.”

“okay, let’s separate for a little bit.” he releases you from his koala-like grip. light floods your vision once more. you blink blearily, adjusting to the sudden change in sight and in temperature—the overhead fan blows a soft gust of wind towards the space between your bodies, effectively cooling you down the slightest bit.

“that’s better. sorry, babe,” you remark.

daichi smiles back, understanding and patient as ever, but his smile snaps into a look of panic in a split second.

“woah—!”

you grab his forearm just in time, struggling to pull him back up the loveseat he’s nearly fallen off of. your lover resurfaces with a breathless, embarrassed laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling cutely. you suck in a breath—not just because he was heavy to pull up again, but because this is the exact smile you’ve fallen in love with; all sincere and sweet and so very him.

“thanks for saving me there, honey.” daichi scoots closer to you, as close as he possibly can, squishing you back against the loveseat.

“give me a kiss,” you reply.

he obliges right away, leaning down to press a simple kiss against your lips. you feel yourself overheating again, a familiar warmth bubbling in your chest. it spreads to the curve of your shoulders, the crook of your elbows, the tip of your toes. an involuntary shudder rips through your body as you feel his warm breath against your lips. you kiss his top lip, then his bottom lip, then the corner of his mouth, taking your time to show your appreciation.

you find yourself breaking into a smile when you pull away from the kiss.

“hi.”

“hi,” he says, mirroring your smile. “we’re, uh, kinda close.”

“nervous, sawamura?”

“how can i not be?”

a/n: i love daichi

(series masterlist) (masterlist)

#not proofread we die like men #daichi x reader #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #daichi fluff #i love u daichi #yuna writes #a hundred different kisses writing game

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zevlor · 2 months

Note

I don’t know if you’re taking requests, but just in case:

“i need you now” kisses: them fisting your shirt into their palms, your hands under their shirt, cold fingertips against their skin, and panting, moving down from their lips to their neck, soft moans that turn louder, shirts being pulled off haphazardly + neri & raphael 🖤

i would die for you thank you this was sooo fun

slight nsft but like not really i guess

------

He smiles wide, devilishly sinister with the slightest hint of flirtation. Another contract added to his vault- another soul under his command and to be used as he wished. No one could disagree that this wasn’t the smartest decision to make, but that was the exact reason why Neri didn’t bring anyone with her for this conversation. There was no need for the immediate response of anger for a perfect solution to their biggest problem.

Raphael may think he’s just tricked her into selling her soul for such a good cause, but she’s smarter than that-or at least her stubbornness wouldn’t allow her to go down without a fight. And who was she to deny the sweet relief of a silent mind and the vanquished mind flayer listening to her every word, knowing her thoughts as he clawed his way into her very being against her wishes. Freedom was a powerful thing.

“Shall we have a drink to celebrate?” Raphael asks with a mischievous glint in his eyes. She can’t tell what it is or if she likes any meaning it possibly holds. “I believe we will achieve great things together.”

Neri takes the glass of wine from him, but her guard does not falter. “There is no ‘together’. There is only me. You give me the hammer and I give you the damned crown- nothing more.”

As he takes a drink, he doesn’t hide the annoyance from his features, but the charming smile returns when he lowers his glass. The devil steps towards her and reaches out his hand, brushing his knuckles against her cheek before pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. The touch sends a shiver down her spine but a blaze of heat into her chest.

“Oh, but you are wrong, my little mouse. You are mine. There will be more.” He hums, brown eyes staring at her lips before flickering up to meet her gaze; one eye unseeing and cold while the other holds his attention with warmth and disdain. His smile widens and his hand wraps around her throat. “I have eternity of torture in store for you. However, I must be patient. The longer I wait, the more delicious your agony and screams will be.”

The glass slips from her grasp. Wine stains the wood red and glass shatters at their feet, but neither care in the moment. Neri grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him closer. “If you only wanted to hear me scream, there are other ways to do it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” He narrows his eyes and his nose scrunches. “Besides, it wouldn’t change anything. The contract is signed and I will never break it. You belong to me.”

Neri pushes against him, forcing him backwards until the heel of his boot catches the step up to the bed. He slides against the edge of the bed, the satin unable to stop his fall as he sits on the floor. She falls with him, onto her knees- onto his lap- with a small dagger in her hand and against his throat. Her chest rises as she takes heavy breaths and Raphael’s fingers twitch as they hover at her waist.

“Don’t forget; I will kill you if I have to. I’m not above breaking our contract right now.” The blade digs just enough to nick his skin, drawing a drop of blood.

Raphael visibly tenses but there’s excitement in his expression. The air is thick between them, their breaths mixing as their lips are only inches apart. “There’s no need for that, little mouse. I won’t ask you to do anything you don’t already do.” He takes her hand and guides the dagger away from his throat. “Killing, stealing, seduction- it’s simple business.”

With a quick movement, the dagger slices through the mattress next to his head. He doesn’t flinch. "Should we put it to the test, then? Just how useful I can be."

"I don't doubt your abilities at all." He hums, eyes trailing over her a moment. "You've made it here without harm and I'm sure you've had your fill of your own thrills."

Heading into dangerous territory recklessly was her favorite passion, and this matter was no exception. She should be testing the waters, but what’s life without a little risk when she could dive right into the deep.

Neri kisses him deeply, savoring the taste of wine and cherries on his lips and on his tongue. He kisses her back, harder, biting her lower lip to draw blood. His hands roam underneath her shirt, his touch rough as he explores her body. She moans softly as she grips his shirt tightly, tugging the already open front and ripping it further down the middle.

Raphael’s nails drag down her back and she pulls away from the kiss to catch her breath. His lips trail down her throat, biting and kissing and licking the blood as flesh breaks. She rolls her hips into him and cards her fingers through his hair, pulling his head back to hear his moans.

Her thoughts wander to her companions and she sighs breathlessly. To save from any suspicion, she'll have to make this quick, but she is sure that wont be a problem at all. As much as she'd like to torment this devil in her own ways- hear him crying and begging- she knows he won't give her the satisfaction either way.

That will have to wait for another day. For now, she'll get what she came for and give him a taste of what she has to offer.

#this is shorter than i wanted but yeah #anywaaaaays yeah #how i imagine this went down lmaooo #oc: neri #otp: for all the heavens of hell #*fic #not proofread we die like men

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latibvles · 8 months

Text

the names we call upon.

alternatively : the SBT DND au that absolutely nobody asked for featuring: Daisy, a bad dream, a stormy night, and a rogue in a particularly tight spot. trust that there will be more of this in the future. this au has a damn spreadsheet now.

Candlelight. That metallic smell. Long shadows across the walls. Shadows never cast in the temple — why had they started? The building shakes, rattles. Labored breathing. Her own. Someone else’s. She can’t pin name to face.

Eyes like honey and moss staring straight through her. A comfort. Her hands are trembling. The light is still draining from his eyes. She could save him. So why can’t she move?

A scream. Identifiable.

James.

It was the lightning and thunder accompanying that woke her. A full-body thing. Daisy would take in a deep breath, her whole body lurching forward, and once she was fully conscious she heaved, tuning into the rain hammering against the window. She tilted her head until her temple rested against the cool glass, and another streak of lightning split the sky in two and lit up the room for a brief second.

How often had she had that dream?

Too often, the Mother believed that sometimes the Gods spoke through their worshippers, but apparently that ability was only reserved for those devoted to it. Not for Daisy, whose power was inexplicable, and had brimmed beneath the surface of her skin since she was a child. The Mother had glamoured that one out of her, freshly fifteen, her brother beside her begging to be taken in, sheltered, after the death of their mother.

It’d been a storm not too dissimilar from this one. But the dreams hadn’t started until a month ago. They weren’t enough for the Mother to interpret and they weren’t enough to deter James from leaving on a job that took him far from her, with the promise to write and return.

He’d done neither, the dreams persisted, and despite the nagging feeling in her stomach that this was more — she ignored it, pressed it down and tucked it away.

Shaking. Shadows. Screaming. Hazel eyes that she knew weren’t her brother’s. It wasn’t much to go off of anyways. Even if it frightened her on nights like this one.

Daisy let out a sigh as she swung her feet over the side, disregarding the sheet. Across from her, Sister Catrice slept soundly, and so Daisy did her best to avoid the floorboards that creaked as she went to grab her shawl from where it draped over her desk chair and slipped out the room into the hallway. Illuminated by candles in the hallways, she figured to do the only thing she’d been advised to do since the dreams began.

She was going to pray, and beg for her goddess’ forgiveness, as she’d done multiple times before. Even, she thought bitterly, as she made her way into the main altar room, if it hasn’t done anything at all.

The statue of Chauntea casted no shadows over the pews, as though even the stone recreation of her likeness didn’t want her followers to be shrouded in darkness. Round cheeks, braids carved from stone, a gown that looks impossibly fluid in spite of its stiff material. She’d marveled at this, once, amazed at how just the sight of her radiated comfort. Warmth.

The Earthmother would have to forgive her for not being happy to see her this past month.

Outside, the storm raged on. In here, Daisy was entirely on her lonesome. The Sisters were all asleep, the candles only lit because the Mother had a thing about not shrouding the altar room in darkness. It’s why she’d glamoured away the shadows. Ultimately made little difference to Daisy, who’s eyes could easily accommodate for the dark.

The Mother taught her that she should approach the statue, and kneel before it. That was the right way to pray. So she did so, clutching her fraying shawl tighter around herself and taking in a trembling breath.

This part was always the hardest part.

“Our Earthmother,” Daisy began, chest already tightening. She didn’t want to mess this up. “Hallowed be thy name…”

She’d gotten so used to calculating every word, that just talking felt nearly impossible. That’s what the Mother said, that prayer was just talking to the goddess, and her case, asking for forgiveness. But as far as Daisy was concerned she didn’t do anything wrong. She whispered her thanks to her every morning, prayed every sunset with the sisters for spells even though she didn’t need to, left offerings at the altar, did everything she was supposed to do and yet…

“For a month and a day I’ve begged for your forgiveness, to relieve me of these horrid visions that plague my dreams…” she took in a trembling breath as the rain came down harder, hammering against the stained glass of the temple. “I haven’t asked for anything more. Not protection for my brother, wherever he is, or the whereabouts of my father. Just to rid me of these dreams.” Calling them dreams didn’t even feel correct. Not in their frequency, not in their feeling. Her heart shouldn’t hurt so much every time she watched the hazel-eyed man die. It shouldn’t feel so real.

Daisy clenched her jaw.

“If you won’t rid me of these visions, then please, show me the way in which I might cast them out myself.”

Thunder boomed, lightning flashed outside, and the door slammed open. Daisy scrambled to her feet, turning around, and the sight made her heart leap into her throat.

She saw the knife first.

It dripped crimson on the floor, hooked at the end. James told her people did that to tear, cause damage on the way in and the way out. And magic crackled in her palms before she realized how pale this man was, how he stumbled.

He nearly toppled into a candle holder as a shoulder slammed into the wall. He hit the floor and Daisy’s feet were moving before she could even think.

“Hey, hey, you.” She lightly tapped at his face. His hair was dark and wet from the rain, his skin a sickly gray, and he had stubble across his jaw. The hand that wasn’t barely holding onto the knife was clutching at his side.

Daisy reached up to undo the clasp on his cloak. He was hot to the touch. His eyes opened in a squint, and he grunted.

“Can you hear me?” She asked. And the man said nothing, just nodded weakly. “Okay, well… I need you to open your eyes.” The black cloak slid off him with little fuss, weighed down by rain. Still, his eyes didn’t move past that barely visible squint. Daisy sighed, and reluctantly slid his shirt up to expose his midriff.

Bandages with a brown stain wrapped tight around his midsection. Reluctantly, Daisy went for his knife, and with that hooked tip caught some of the linen to cut it away. Unwrapping and unwrapping. The man shivered, sweating, and then coughed hard. Blood, so dark it was nearly black, stained his teeth.

She understood the moment she got the bandages off. And Daisy might be in over her head.

The puncture wound just below his ribs, the hole oozed a green substance, black veins stretching from the wound. Poison.

Her heart was pounding in her ears. Hands trembling, every joint locked up as she stared. His breathing became more labored and she watched his chest rise and fall with more and more effort. He was wheezing. She should get the Mother. Or wake a sister. Or heal it herself. Do something. But she was paralyzed. One wrong move. All it takes is one wrong move. So the solution is to do nothing?! That voice in her head screamed it at her. She looked at his pale, withering face. Finally, he opened his eyes, bloodshot, and hazel like—

Thunder rattled the building. Trembling hands.

Eyes like honey and moss.

Bile burned at her throat. Blood pounded in her ears. Her hands didn’t stop shaking and she wanted to say something but she couldn't. Words dying on her tongue, lungs aching. She was hardly breathing. His head lolled back against the wall, fading.

“Hey, hey, no, look at me, come on,” she reached over, taking his face in her hands and tilting him back towards her, spurred into motion. “There we go. Do you have a name? Tell me that?” He took a deep breath..

“Ron—” he didn’t finish, coughing up more of that black blood of his. Daisy didn’t pry for more.

“Okay, Ron, I’m Daisy and I…” she looked down at his wound. The Mother rarely let her around the sick. She thought letting Daisy use her magic was heretical. Could she even do this? It didn’t matter. She had to try. “I’m going to help you, okay? I just need you to stay awake.” She takes a shuddering breath.

Great Mother, if you’ve ever been on my side, now would be a great time to show it.

Ron watched her like a hawk, as she approached the wound with trembling fingers, energy crackling beneath the surface of her skin. It was an incantation, one of the few they’d been willing to teach her but she hadn’t much practice with it. She knew the spell well enough, hoped it worked, watched as green pus brushed against her fingers and tried not to apologize when Ron flinched immediately on contact.

It was easier to recite in Elvish, where every word felt like a song.

It felt like everything fell silent. For a moment, nothing happened. Just Daisy, repeating the incantation over and over again, and Ron staring, watching, burning a hole right through her being, like if this failed he’d definitely haunt her for the rest of her days.

Then a glow, warm and golden, stretching from her fingers, pushing into the hole in his side and lighting up the black veins with a yellow glow. She could feel it, the poison reacting to her magic, trying to push back and fizzling out as she put more force behind it, allowing her finger tips to press up against his skin.

Some color returned to his face, but barely any. And he was still sweaty, and cold from the rain. So if the poison didn’t take him, then pneumonia damn well could become a second contender.

Daisy let the spell fizzle out, and left in its wake was a small, fleshy wound which no longer bled. Ron leaned over to rummage through his bag, and knowing how this was meant to go, Daisy felt her heart drop in her stomach.

“You don’t need to— I don’t want any… offerings,” Because it wasn’t a cleric that healed him, so who would she be to take an offering for the altar? It felt disingenuous. Ron looked back at her, and without poison sucking the life from him, his stare seemed to double in intensity. She couldn’t tell if that was his resting face or if he lived in a state of constant alertness. Given the state of his knife, either seemed possible. He cleared his throat.

“You said your name was Daisy, right?” His voice was rough, he still leaned up against the wall. Daisy nodded.

“And yours is Ron?”

“Ronald.”

“Right. Ronald.” He looked at her and despite the intensity of that stare, she held his gaze. No doubt about it, she knew those eyes, was haunted by them for a whole month. What they would look like with no life in them. But he lived.

“How far is Secomber from here?” He asked, eyeing the door. Daisy’s brows furrowed, watching.

“You won’t get anywhere far. Not with this rain,” Knowing that wasn’t what he asked, but still giving him that answer. She watched as he pulled himself to his feet but wobbled on the way up, and raised a brow when he looked at her again, an affirmative of yes, I saw that, going unsaid between them. “We have racks in the back for travelers. I can put your clothes by the hearth so they’re dry in the morning.”

Ronald picked up his waterlogged cloak, drip drip dripping onto the floor, but his eyes never left hers as she stood up, giving her a slight shake of his head.

“You don’t have to do that.” He responded, and lapsing back into herself, Daisy shook her head.

“It’s not about having to do anything. You’ll drown in the river before you make it halfway down the road,” And, she added silently, I have questions in the morning and you might have the answers. She dug her feet in. “After a wound like that I think the flu would be a pretty lackluster way to go out.” Ronald’s eyes widened just barely at her remark, and a sense of amusement bubbled in her at catching him off guard.

Maybe he'd realized that she wouldn’t let up, or maybe he was still too wobbly, but Ronald sighed, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. She almost wished he hadn’t done that, because now there really wasn’t any doubt.

“Thank you, Sister Daisy.” She immediately shook her head.

“Just Daisy is fine.” She didn’t miss that flash of confusion, but now wasn’t the time to get into the semantics of her place here, and how she, by all accounts, didn’t technically have one.

“Just Daisy, then,” Signed, sealed, delivered — he looked at her expectantly, and with that she turned on her heel, leading him down one of the temple’s many corridors towards one of the rooms they kept for weary travelers.

Even with her back turned, she could still see those eyes of his, as vivid as they had been in her dream.

#au: the names we call upon #or alternatively #sbt meets dnd #not proofread we die like men #sometimes the love of your life is the church girl that had a premonition about your untimely demise #poet’s notepad #band of brothers au #BoB au #ronald speirs #ronald speirs fic #ron speirs

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almond-tofuuu · 2 months

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Do it for me...

Zayne x fem! Reader smut

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, porn without plot (this is pure smutty goodness), PiV sex, nipple play, cervix fucking, soft dom! Zayne, consensual sex (bc asking for consent is hot af), cunnilingus, tongue fucking, fingering, squirting, creampie, raw sex (wrap it up ppl), sex on a desk, Zayne's fat cock (bc that shi needs its own warning label)

Lmk if I missed anything

Word count: 2.9k (I am so sorry)

Thinking about Zayne

His pupils blown wide with lust, chest heaving with every breath he takes, icy hand gently but firmly holding your chin in place, forcing you to maintain eye contact as his other hand explores your body. Cold fingers gliding so softly over your exposed collar bones, making your skin tingle and goose bumps forming in the wake of his fingertips. His eyes locked on yours as his hand travels lower, following the valley between your breasts, stopping just under the curve of your left breast, fingers toying with the lace of your bra.

"May I?" His voice is low and husky, breath fanning over your cheek as he leans closer, searching your face for any signs of discomfort.

You nod your head, desperate to feel his cold hands on your bare skin again, but he doesn't move, his eyes narrowing slightly as a deep chuckle rumbles from his chest.

"That's not how this works, darling, if you want something you're going to have to tell me" he leans in closer, lips ghosting over yours, teasing you but not giving you what you want "Go on, use your words, I'll give you whatever you want, just be a good girl and tell me what you need."

His words, so full of promise and dripping with desire spark a fire within you, a heat that radiates down to your core. Swallowing down the last of your anxiety, your eyes meet his own, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to stumble over your words.

"Please Zayne....I need you... need you to touch me...need to feel you, please-"

Your pleading is cut off by Zayne's mouth as he captures yours in a searing kiss, his hand that was previously holding your chin now tangling into the hair on the back of your head, pulling you closer as his lips devour yours. His tongue darts out to lick at your bottom lip, silently asking for entrance which you willingly grant, allowing him to explore your mouth. At the same time his other hand has made quick work of removing your bra, now kneading your left breast in his large hand, cold fingers pinching and rolling your nipple until it hardens before moving onto your right breast to give it the same attention. Reaching up you grab onto his broad shoulders, needing something to ground yourself, fingers burying themselves into the fabric of his doctors coat, tugging at it slightly. Zayne pulls away for a moment, chuckling at the adorable neediness of the gesture.

"What's the matter? Do you not like my coat anymore?" You know by the small smirk on his lips and mischievous glint in his eyes that he's teasing you, know that he wants you to tell him exactly what it is you want.

"Want you to take it off, 's not fair that I'm sat here shirtless and you're still fully clothed" you mumble with a small pout on your lips, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hmm You're right, allow me to correct my error" Zayne's eyes remain focused on yours as he shrugs his doctors coat off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor of his office with a soft thump. However, you're still not satisfied, wanting to see more of him, so you grab onto his tie, pulling him closer to you so you can get to work on removing his shirt. Zayne is quick to stop you, large hands engulfing yours, halting their movement as he leans down to peer into your face.

"If your hands keep being mischievous, I can show you how surgeons tie knots" although his tone isn't harsh, there's a quiet dominance to his words, almost like he's challenging you to keep going. And you're not one to back down from a challenge, so you tug on his tie again, bringing his face closer to yours, trailing soft kisses along his jaw before you whisper seductively into his ear,

"Is that a promise, Doctor Zayne?"

Before you can even react Zayne has you laid on your back on his desk, one strong hand pinning your wrists above your head, the other loosening his tie further as his imposing form towers over you.

"It would seem that someone can't control their hands, perhaps I should teach you a lesson, maybe then you'll be more obedient" as he speaks Zayne takes his tie and uses it to restrain your hands, his movements quick and precise, being careful not to tie the knot too tight but enough to limit your movement.

"That's much better, now be a good girl for me and stay still" satisfied with his work Zayne leans in to capture your lips in a quick and passionate kiss before moving onto your neck, biting and sucking the sensitive skin there, spurred on by the soft moans spilling from you. He then moves lower, trailing open-mouthed kisses along your collar bones and between your breasts, pausing to swirl his tongue around one of your hardened nipples before taking it in his mouth, his free hand coming up to tease the other. He repeats his movements on your other breast, not wanting to neglect it and relishing the way you whine and how your back arches up into him. Once he's done toying with your nipples, Zayne resumes his path downwards, lips and tongue leaving behind a wet trail on your stomach as he stops at the waistband of your jeans.

"Can I remove these as well, love?" He looks up at you, waiting for your permission, needing to hear that you want this.

"Yes, please Zayne, need you" this time you're quick to respond, your body feeling hot as the tension builds in your core becomes nearly unbearable, needing to feel some kind of relief.

Zayne gives you an approving smile, obviously pleased with your response, his hands moving to the buttons of your jeans, undoing them and removing both your jeans and panties in one go. Seeing you completely bare beneath him, your soaked cunt on full display, Zayne let's out a deep groan, whispering a soft "fuck" under his breath as he takes in the sight of you. The feeling of his piercing eyes on your exposed pussy is too much for you and you close your legs subconsciously, trying to shy away from him. But Zayne simply grips onto your thighs, prying them apart and slotting his hips in-between them.

"Don't hide away from me, love, you're beautiful, each and every part of you is perfect." His voice is soft and full of adoration, letting you know he means every word, that he truly thinks you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met. And you do believe him, because the way he's looking at you, the way he's holding you makes you feel so special. His hands give a light squeeze on your thighs, holding them in place as he lowers his head to plant soft kisses along the sensitive skin on the inside of your right thigh, nibbling every so often, inching closer and closer to where you need him most before switching over to your other thigh, giving it the same treatment. You buck your hips up, a desperate whine leaving you as you plead with him, "please stop teasing...wanna feel you... Can't take it anymore"

Zayne let's out a breathy chuckle, his warm breath fanning over your weeping cunt, "very well, you've been a good girl so far, I suppose you do deserve a reward"

And with that Zayne dives into your glistening pussy, tongue licking a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, taking it in his mouth and sucking it, repeating the motion several times as you writhe in pleasure beneath him. One of his strong hands moves to firmly hold down your hips, the other begins to play with your clit as his tongue delves inside your dripping hole.

"You taste so sweet, I may have just found my new favourite desert" he lets out a low moan of satisfaction that vibrates against your pussy, his mouth latching onto you again as he drives his tongue further inside you, lapping up all the juices leaking out of you. The feeling of his fingers on your clit and his tongue inside you has your thighs quivering and locking around his head, back arching off his desk as moans fall freely from your lips. Your hands, still bound together by his tie, reach down and tangle themselves in his hair, tugging slightly causing Zayne to groan into your cunt. He eats you out like a man starved, drinking down every drop of the juices flowing from inside you, his nose bumping against your clit adding to the intense pleasure coursing through your body. Your orgasm is rapidly approaching when you feel Zayne's tongue leaving your pussy only to be replaced by two of his long, slender fingers, he slides them inside you easily, making a scissoring motion as his mouth latches onto your clit.

"Zayne... gon- ngh! Gonna cum!" You manage to stutter out between moans, your cunt clenching tighter around his fingers that continue to pump in and out of you, his pace increasing as he curls them to hit the spot deep inside your cunt that has you seeing stars.

"Go ahead, love, cum for me" he mumbles his encouragement into your cunt, the added vibrations sending you over the edge as your orgasm hits you full force, your pussy clenching tight around his fingers as you soak his hand and the lower part of his face. Zayne works you through your high, not stopping his movements until you push his head away, the over sensitivity becoming too much. You lie there catching your breath, looking down shyly you meet Zayne's gaze as he rises from between your legs, and he looks like pure sin. His eyes have darkened with lust, the bottom half of his face glistening with your juices, a smirk rests on his lips as he brings his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean. It's the most erotic sight you've ever witnessed, and it has your cunt throbbing in anticipation.

"Do you wish to continue, love? I need you to tell me now if you've had enough, because once I start I'm not going to stop until I've ruined you for every other man" his voice is steady but there's a hint of tension behind his words, as if he's fighting hard to maintain control of himself, trying to keep his ever stoic demeanor intact. In a sudden burst of courage, you reach down and palm his painfully hard cock as it strains against the front of his dress pants, causing a low moan to resonate from deep in his chest. His hips involuntarily buck into your hand, his eyes fluttering closed as he allows himself indulge in the feeling of your warm hands as they stroke his cock.

"I want this, Zayne, want you" your whisper to him sweetly, hands unbuttoning the front of his pants, pulling down his underwear and freeing his gorgeous cock, letting it slap against his toned abdomen. It's thick and lengthy, pale with a prominent vein running up the underside of his shaft, pearly beads of precum leak out from the tip that's a few shades darker then the rest of his cock. You've never thought of using the word 'beautiful' to describe a cock before, but his truly was a sight to behold, enough to make your mouth water and pussy clench around nothing. You shuffle forward in an attempt to get off his desk, ready to sink to your knees and worship him the same way he did you, but Zayne's firm grasp on your chin halts your movement. You blink up at him in confusion, worried that you may have done something wrong, but the lust clouding his eyes and desire dripping like honey from his voice tells you otherwise.

"As much as I'd like to indulge in feeling that pretty mouth of yours, I'm afraid I can't wait that long. I need to take you, now. So be a good girl and lay back down for me"

Licking your lips, you do as you're told, resuming your previous position, the cool surface of his desk pleasant against your flushed skin. Zayne stands between your open legs, one hand resting on your thigh, the other takes hold of his thick length, guiding it through your slick folds, coating his shaft in your wetness, the tip nudging your clit with every slow thrust. Once he's satisfied that his cock is lubed up enough with your juices, Zayne positions himself at the entrance to your cunt, the tip prodding at the tight hole causing a near pathetic whimper of need to fall from your lips.

"Apologies in advance, love, I'll try to be gentle" and with that Zayne slowly enters you, his thick shaft stretching out your tight pussy, the steady, shallow thrusts allowing you to feel every delicious inch as he works you open until he's buried to the hilt. A shaky exhalation leaves Zayne's lips followed by a quiet "fuck" whispered under his breath, his eyes closed briefly as he revels in the feeling of finally being inside you, feeling your drenched cunt throbbing and clenching so nicely around his cock. He wants to be gentle, wants to take his time with you and keep true to his words.

But Zayne is only a man, and like all men he has a breaking point, and the sight of you laid beneath him, half-lidded eyes locked onto his, mouth hung open as you moaned his name in ecstasy, soaked cunt throbbing so perfectly around his cock was just too much for him. His self control that was hanging by a thread finally snapped, he began pounding his cock into you like a man possessed, driving his length deeper and deeper inside of your sensitive hole, the fat tip hitting your cervix with every rough thrust. Broken moans flow from you, combining with the rhythmic slapping of skin and wet squelching of your pussy, it creates a sinful melody that's practically pornographic, it would be enough to make your cheeks burn if your brain could actually focus on anything other than the delicious drag of Zayne's cock as he ruts into you. Meanwhile, the man above you has lost all composure, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as he drives his length into you, his rough thrusts enough to cause the desk below you to scrape across the floor. Somewhere, deep in your fucked-out brain you register the tightening of the coil in your lower stomach, knowing your orgasm is near, you try to warn Zayne, although it's difficult to form any kind of coherent thought with how good he's drilling into you.

"Z-zayne.... Aghh! gonna....mmh...gonna cum!" You manage to whimper out between moans, your eyes closing as you throw your head back, body arching up off the desk as his cock hits the spongey spot deep inside your pussy, causing you to clench even harder around him. Zayne brings one hand up to tilt you face to look at him, his eyes held an almost predatory glint as they locked onto yours.

"Keep those pretty eyes on me, love, I want to watch as you fall apart" his words came out breathy and low, a deep groan rumbling up from the back of his throat, his hips never stopping their brutal pace, icy fingers coming up to play with your clit, rubbing figure eights into it as his heavy balls smacked against your ass with every thrust. It's all too much, all of your senses are overwhelmed by him. His cool fingers on your clit, his piercing eyes boring into yours, his musky scent surrounding you, deep groans and warm breath fanning over your face, and his hard cock moulding your pussy to his shape. Your orgasm is blinding, your body convulsing and cunt spasming erratically around his length, squirting your release all over his toned abdomen as your vision turns white. A high-pitched moan leaving you followed by the chanting of his name, whispered almost like a prayer as he consumed your thoughts. Zayne doesn't stop, his thrusts speeding up as his own is release fast approaching, but he doesn't even realise, too focused on you. Watching intensely as you come undone beneath him, wanting to remember every second, every moan, every facial expression. It only takes a few more thrusts before he's cumming, hips stuttering before burying himself deep inside you, a broken groan of your name falling from his lips, cock pulsing and twitching as he coats your pussy with his thick, creamy seed. He continues to shallowly rock into your spent pussy, feeling how your cunt milks his cock for every last drop of cum.

His strong arms rest on either side of your head, holding him up as he pants heavily, sweat-covered forehead resting against yours as you both bask in the afterglow of your release. Zayne Is the first to move, pulling back slightly he presses a tender kiss to your forehead as he takes in your fucked-out form below his. He can't help but be entranced by how beautiful you look, skin glistening with sweat, chest rising and falling heavily as you try to catch your breath, cheeks flushed as you come down from your high. To him, you look absolutely ethereal, and he can't stop the soft smile that spreads across his face, because finally, after so many years of wanting and waiting, you're his.

#drops this on the dash and runs #love and deepspace #zayne #zayne x reader smut #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #smut #this is pure filth #minors dni #zayne smut #not proofread #we die like men #SoundCloud

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moominsuki · 10 days

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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — 11:36 AM OR when you’re needy and he’s ready to help you. doesn’t mean he won’t have some of his own fun while doing it. (birthday special)

࿄ ! warnings - major nsfw. squirting. f!reader. kind of dubcon but not really. / note. hey… how y’all doing! i have no excuses this time lol. i also can’t promise i will be back! i couldn’t let this brew in my drafts forever, esp. on his birthday. but enjoy :} minors& blank blogs dni.

you: hey kats i miss you :(

you: katsuki? i need you

you sent those texts at around 11:36 am and it’s now almost an hour later, with katsuki being in a very important heroes’ meeting of some sort. now, katsuki never takes time or leave off of work only on the condition he’s practically spilling his guts onto the floor - and even so, he’d come in with his hands wrapped round his lower abdomen if he wasn’t chastised for showing up half dead.

this wasn’t out of the ordinary for you - you know, to text him all needy and sad. don’t get it all wrong, it makes katsuki’s heart clench to have to leave you to your lonesome when he’s busy and you’re not. he knows how you get when you get off your period and mixed when you’re also feeling poorly comes a combination of you feeling melancholic, sweet and also very needy. by the way, did he mention needy yet?

katsuki: what’s up with you? you ok?

his phone vibrates almost as fast as he tried to stuff it in his pocket and he inconspicuously looks down.

you: no… i need you :((

katsuki sighs looking at your texts, excusing himself from the meeting and giving what he’d consider sympathetic eyes to his friends before dialling up your number.

“you okay, princess?” katsuki frowns, “i know you ‘aven’t been feeling well these past few days but ‘m busy-”

“katsukiii,” you all but whine into the phone, mewling and he straightens up immediately at your voice, ears turning a cute shade of pink. oh. he knows this tone. he knows it all too well amongst the linen sheets of his bed.

“i know i shouldn’t be calling while you’re busy but, fuck, i need you, need you so much,” you gasp on the other side of the line, practically swimming in his bed, wearing only your cotton panties and a barely there tank top.

katsuki bites his fist, standing behind the conference room door, groaning quietly. “yeah?”

“mhmmm, i really do,” you simper, “you looked really good this morning an-and you smelt so good and… ‘m just really, really needy right now.”

katsuki should tell you to get a grip, dash some cold water on your face and put your fingers to good use but the way you’re moaning and whining across the phone is making all his blood cells rush from the rational parts of his body down to the irrational parts of his body.

“where r’you right now?”

“in your bed… just like how you left me,” you sigh, a pathetic and wanton lilt to your words. “all alone in this big and cold bed wishing my big, strong man would come home and give me what i deserve.”

your flushed face boyfriend all but snarls, teeth bared over the phone. “yeah? what d’you deserve, then, for interrupting me at work and and then begging me to come home and fuck you? cos that’s what you want, right? for me t’drop everythin’ and come running to you?”

“yup,” you hum, popping the ‘p’ and some rustling can be heard in the background. “well, ‘s your choice, really. i just… really need you, baby.”

you can hear katsuki’s deep breathing over the phone and you’re so certain you can hear the cogs in his skull turning, clicking as he mulls over this decision. he clears his throat, lamenting with a big sigh as if this is all one big inconvenience for him.

just at that moment, deku comes through the door.

“everything okay, kacch- dynamight? if you’re busy we can discuss this with you another time.”

“…‘m gonna have to head home for a little while… something’s come up. don’ wait up. i’ll be back as quick as i can.”

katsuki wants to bite you when he can make out the smile over your exhale through the receiver but you’re quick to hang up as deku reassures his friend in his naïveté, unknowing to the true purpose of his mid day return home.

when katsuki returns within 10 minutes since your call (usually it’s a 16 minute drive from the agency to home - pedal to the metal), you’re already on the couch, and your tank top does nothing to hide the hardness of your nipples and katsuki can see the shape of your cunt lips through your barely there panties.

no words are passed as you smile sweetly at your boyfriend, who kicks off his shoes and whose hands already at his belt as he stalks over to your seated body.

“how d’ya want it, huh?” you’re already moving back across the couch, legs spread.

“just fuck me please,” you whimper, “wan’ you to stretch me out with your cock.” you paw at his hips, at the waistline of his trousers that situate themselves in front of your face.

“you don’ want me to stretch you out first?” he muses, dropping down to his knees in front of your scantily clad pussy, thick fingers pressing on your covered clit and you hum, shaking your head.

“i can take it right now,” you gasp, and two fingers slip into your pants despite your protests at how you “don’t need to be prepped,” and that you “can take him right now.” alas, you shut up effective immediately when his fingers skim through your panties and straight to rubbing your hardened nub and you can’t find it in yourself to get annoyed when two digits slip inside you, curling up only for a mere second and jolting your body along with it.

katsuki pulls his dampened fingers out, effectively taking off your panties with him. “your decision. don’t get pissy with me later when it’s sore, because ‘m not gonna have it.”

you shake your head defiantly, utterances of “i won’t” and “just please fuck me,” meshing into a slurry of words.

he grabs your face to look at you. “you promise?”

you nod and he frowns, smushing your cheeks slightly. “you better speak up and fast, because i ain’t got all day, princess.”

“i promish! i promishh.” the words come out muffled against the grip of his hand. your boyfriend takes the answer anyhow, because he gets up from off his knees to impatiently throw off his blazer, then down his trousers and pants in one swoop.

there’s a smug look on your face and katsuki can tell you’re trying to hide a triumphant smile. he wants to wipe it off your face so badly.

“face down, ass up, pretty lady.”

you throw yourself around without a second to spare and katsuki stuffs a pillow under your hips, slapping your ass in the process. at any other time, you would’ve scolded him for leaving a print. instead you moan and arch your back, clenching cunt on display for his hungry eyes.

“fucking minx,” katsuki grumbles, settling behind you and letting the weight of his mostly hard cock tap against your pussy, delving between your puffy lips and rubbing against your hardened clit.

you try to be good, try not to say anything that might make him want to punish you but you’re growing restless at what feels like hours of torture (hours being mere seconds that is) and you sniffle out a weak “katsuki, please…”

his heart clenches at your tone and even when he’s trying to tease you, he can’t help but feed out the palm of your hand. he also can’t help that his dick pulsates in his grip at the pathetic tone of your voice.

“don’t rush me or i’ll leave you like this,” he grumbles, and you both know he wouldn’t dare, and you’re about to protest, turn your head to spit defiantly at him but it’s much too late for that. he sinks in, weighty and thick and it knocks the breath out of you. you practically face plant into the armrest of the couch and your teeth bites into the cashmere fabric.

there’s something about not being prepped before that makes this so much more intimate and sexy for the both of you, but the impending realisation that you will be sore tomorrow dawns on you as you feel the heft of his balls press on you. he’s right to the hilt and you’re full to the brim, gasping.

neither of you can get a word out edgeways or sideways - katsuki leans down to wrap a thick arm around your neck and though he can barely see your face, he can feel the salty tears dribbling down his forearm and he can most definitely hear the wordless cries coming from out your agape mouth.

“this is what you wanted,” he hisses, nose in your hair, his wide body trapping you to the couch, “don’t you fuckin’ complain later- fuckin’, shittt,” he groans, pulling back out slightly and getting sucked in by your silken walls. the living room has gotten 100 degrees hotter and he wants to blame you so badly, but you moan out his name wantonly, one hand around his own that’s slightly bruising against your neck and he’s putty.

“hurts so good,” you finally get out, toes curling when the tip of his cock hits against that honeyed spot. “jus’- jus’ like that,” you slur, legs shaking and thrashing when you feel katsuki’s hand slip between your bodies.

all he can focus on is how fast you got sloppy for him, the conjoining of your bodies, if only fleeting, is getting to him, if the clench of his balls has anything to say about it. his hand finds your throbbing pearl and a straying pointer fingers rubs on it firmly in broad, confident circles, and you choke, eyes crossing.

your body stiffens and you’re not even sure you’re speaking a coherent language at this point, but you garble out something along the lines of “i love you,” and “i can’t take it,” and a contradicting “like that, katsuki.”

behind you, he’s thrusting even harder and rubbing faster at your clit, pressing down with ferocity and you’re not even sure what you’re begging for anymore, the tension in your bladder rising. even in the midst of a second, impending orgasm do you turn and try to kiss him, which he gladly accepts, tongue delving into your mouth and he inevitably hunches, grunting and huffing, red faced and shooting ropes of thick cum inside of you.

that’s when your second one hits, and it’s even heavier than the last, sprays of liquid hitting your boyfriend’s lower abdomen and you squeal, hips gyrating and katsuki doesn’t slow until you’re basically limp, collapsed against the softness of his sofa.

he kisses your head, pulling out and you gasp at the exit. no words are shared as he brandishes a damp cloth from somewhere - he must’ve gotten up in your daze, you didn’t even know he had left from behind you at all, and it makes you sigh, cheeks resting against the armrest.

katsuki cleans you up in typical, sweetheart fashion, passing you a blanket and your clothes like he always does after a romp, and it’s only when he makes you sit up so you can eat a banana and drink a glass of cold, fresh water do you say something.

“so i take that you’re not going back into work?”

katsuki’s eyebrows shoot up into his hairline, and he looks away from you, pouting. you think he’s not going to say anything till he scoffs a short moment later, “…’s not like i had much to do today anyway… i’ll catch up with those idiots later.”

you don’t bite back your smile this time and he pulls you into his chest. “you better wipe that shit eating grin off ya face.”

“or what? you threatening me with a good time?” you giggle, wiggling your brows and he opens his mouth to bark back until you move your hips slightly and hiss.

“what was that?” he questions and you ignore him. he groans, swiping a hand across his face,“…y/n, i-”

“‘m not complaining!… but i would be lying if i said it’s not a little sore- hey!”

katsuki wraps you up in his arms, blanket strewn.

“what are you-”

“since ‘m taking the rest of the day off, might as well go clean up and have a bath… remind me to never listen to you again.”

“hey! it’s not my fault you’re such a brute,” you laugh as he kisses your face, walking up the stairs.

“not so hard!” you hiss in pain, “‘m sore!”

yeah. remind katsuki to never listen to you when you’re horny.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou smut #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.#✎𓂃uma thirsts。°˖⌕#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕#bakugo smut #bakugou imagine #not proofread no beta we die like MEN #ok byeeeee

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pupkashi · 4 months

Text

satoru thinks about the anatomy of a hug often.

he thinks about it when you’re both waking up in the morning, you’re still half asleep and his hair is poking in every direction possible, a half dazed smile on his face as he scoots over, urging you to wrap your arms around him.

a content sigh leaves him, face burying into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath.

“g’morning sweets,” voice raspy and muffled, you smile, humming in response.

“g’morning angel boy,” you whisper, eyes still closed as the two of you gently fall back to sleep, this time hugging each other, with your heart as close as possible.

satoru thinks about the anatomy of a hug when the two of you are arguing, when you’re upset at him and frustrated beyond belief. he’s being stubborn, he knows he is but he also doesn’t get why you’re so upset.

“maybe if you’d just listen to me you’d get what I’m saying!” you groan, your jaw is clenched as you stare at your lover in anger.

“you just keep saying the same thing over and over what else is there for me to listen to?” he replies back, angry at the lack of progress in the conversation.

“whatever,” you mumble, turning your back on him and beginning to walk away.

if there’s one thing satoru would never allow himself to do, it’s let you go to bed angry and in the middle of an argument. he takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself down as he follows you into the bedroom.

“sweetheart I’m sorry, i don’t wanna go to bed arguing, can we please just- let’s just sit on the couch for a little okay?” his voice is leagues gentler than it was before, and you feel yourself wanting to lash out at him again.

a deep breath and a cold glass of water later you’re on the couch with your lover, wrapped in each others arms. soft sniffles leaving your nose as satoru wipes away your tears, apologizing once again before hugging you tighter than before.

the second he sees you after a mission away he’s wrapping you in his arms, hugging you and never planning on letting you go.

“oh i missed you so much lovebug” he murmurs, kissing your forehead before hugging you once more.

“you were gone for two days, toru” you laugh, holding him tightly nonetheless, grateful to have your lover back in your arms.

he’s hugging you after he gets home from work or you get back from hanging out with friends. he’s hugging you after a rough mission and is choking back sobs. when he’s being harassed by his students and you peek your head into the classroom, all of them immediately on their best behaviors.

“oh sweetheart you saved me!” he fawns, hugging you, picking you up and spinning you around before kissing your cheeks.

satoru loves hugging you, knowing there’s no other way for your hearts to be closer, knowing you’re here and safe in his arms. knowing the two of you are heart to heart, filled with love for one another.

a/n: i hope you get a nice warm hug, you deserve it ! <3

masterlist

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coochiekrab · 2 months

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Baby faced at the baby convention

#no proofreading we die like men #my art #kuri #aubrey #worlds worst comic

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truegoist · 8 months

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LOVE LANGUAGES - quality time warnings;; gn reader. both of u are downbad(🤢🤢) . u kiss also. 1.3k words

RIN ITOSHI isn’t the most affectionate person by nature, the extreme drive for his soccer carrier has left the man stranded the permanent aggravated expression that runs through the itoshi bloodline definitely doesn’t help

in all senses, rin itoshi is not the one you expect to appear at your door, 4 in the morning.

For a couple of minutes you just stare at eachother, him fully dressed and annoyingly awake; you in your pajamas and hardly aware at your presence on earth.

“It’s my birthday” is what he says simply. “Why are you not ready” Perhaps it’s just you, but the tone in his voice seems even more agitated than usual.

“Ready for what rin?” You can see the white fog of your breath as you exhale, you don’t want to be mean to the boy on his birthday but he really is challenging his chances

“You said we’d hang out at four. It’s already four thirty five and you aren’t even ready” His tone is harsh. Accusing. But in those teal eyes that had always resembled glaciers to you now look melted down, you can tell deep down the reason for his bother is different than your so called lack of punctuality.

You can tell he’s afraid you may have forgotten about a plan that meant so much to him. He’s afraid you may not even care about it, or him. He’s terrified to not mean half as much to one person he cares about.

He won’t ever voice it. But somehow you know, or perhaps you hope that this is what he thinks; that he longs for you as much as you do for him.

It’s stupid really, how your heart fluttered at the sight of him in your door or how you can’t even bring yourself to be properly mad at him.

That’s cute and all but that doesn’t change the fact that you planned to sleep a good 2 more hours.

“Rin” you finally speak again “I meant 4 pm why would you think- How long have you even been awake for?”

A small oh leaves the strikers lips as he looks at you, dumbfounded. It appears that normally people don’t arrange meetings before dawn only occurring to him now.

With the new emotion in his face rin quite resembles a stray puppy, so much you suddenly get the urge to coddle him

“Well do you want to come inside? We can eat breakfast or something”

He trails behind you to kitchen, with how long you’ve two been friends rin knows the way as good as his own and it’s him who takes the lead on your small walk towards kitchen.

crack

The egg falls to the pan with a satisfying sound, normally you’d have gone with something easier like cereal but the mr sportsman seated in your kitchen now is determined to force his stupidly healthy diet onto you as much as he can.

Despite all his protests and attempts to help you have him sat near the table as you prepare everything. It’s half because it’s his special day and half because he’s a complete disaster in kitchen(perhaps more the later than first).

While doing so you’ve been rambling on and on about whatever comes to your mind to fill his silence, on small changes in your life, school, a show you liked, the cute cat you saw on the street yesterday… Perhaps with someone else this could feel like a monologue but it’s different with rin; maybe it’s the way how he always looks so concentrated on whatever you say, or the way he always remembers everything you’ve told to the smallest detail. Or maybe it’s just your feelings for him that make this enjoyable for you

Whatever it is, it’s how it goes between you two: you talk, and he listens. Aside from the cynical remarks here and there, talking isn’t his thing. Even if sometimes you wished it was, you wished that for once he’d be the one to talk, be the one to tell the words you never brought yourself to speak to him.

With a tap on your shoulder that caught you off guard, you almost hit the man on the face. And you probably would’ve if he didn’t caught your hand midair.

Maybe it’s because you were too caught upon telling whatever story you were on or maybe it was because the eerily quiet way rin moves for a man his size but you only notice how close he has gotten to you at this moment.

So you can almost feel the warmth emitting of his skin. So close you can hear his breath. And suddenly, you’re hyper aware of the way your very own heartbeat seems to quicken.

Perhaps it’s because it’s so early in the morning, but there’s something just so romantic about this moment; how close you two are, how the newly setting sunshine dances on his face.

You need serious help.

“Sorry did I bore you?” Once again, you’re the one to break the silence. Yes that must be it, he was just bored with you talking all the time. You should stop dreaming.

He blinks a few times, it’s evident he finds even the suggestion of such idea absurd “I enjoy listening to you (name), I thought you knew that” you hate yourself for it but even those simple words gives you such euphoria that it practically overwhelms you. Plus he still hasn’t let go of your wrist.

You have to leave before you do something seriously stupid. Like pour your heart out to rin itoshi

“That reminds me! I got something for your birthday,” You originally planned to give it to him much later, but you’re desperate and you need out “it’s upstairs if you’d let me go I can just run real quick and ge-”

“Don’t want it”

His grasp on your wrist is now much more firm, it contrasts the previous gentleness of his touch towards you. Rin has always treated you with fragility that it’s only now you realize how strong he actually is.

“I told you I don’t want you to buy me anything” his bright, teal eyes look more like a turquoise as the sun hits them, leaving you captivated by them even in this moment “But if you’re that insistent on giving me something then um…”

His newly found confidence starts to die down as he mutters the next bit “if you really want to gift me…you can give me something else” the last part is said in such low whisper that you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to hear it if weren’t for how close you two are right now. Maybe your eyes are playing a game to you right now but you can see red on his cheeks.

You must be dreaming. Or it’s that you aren’t fully awake right now and can’t think clearly, because there’s no way the rin itoshi is saying what you think he is

Fuck it, you’ve waited long enough

Your pull on him is harsher than you intended, your lips practically to crash to each other but neither of you seem to care. His body is warm against yours, and he tastes of mint.

You’re not sure how long have passed, maybe a few minutes, maybe an eternity. Or perhaps it was just a moment, shorter than one blink.

Before you can even process what just happened, you’re hit with another shock; he is smiling

rin itoshi is smiling. not a know it all “I said so”type of smirk. not a forced one.

But one that creeps bigger and bigger as he stares to you, mimicking the way red blossoms to his cheek. Yours probably aren’t much different right now either

At that moment one sentence slips out of your mouth;

“Happy birthday rin”

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ciwzing · 8 months

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the first time you suggest kei to wear contact lenses instead of glasses was when a volleyball ball had accidentally landed on his face hard, leaving an indent of his glasses around his eyes and a cruel bruise on his left eye that made him sat on benched for a few match.

Though he refused with a furrowed brows, and a little shake of his head saying "I doubt an accident like that would happen again." and that's that.

the second time was when he whined and complained about the sunlight and why he can't wear sunglasses since he won't be able to see shit anyways, you had said first "why not just have those transition lenses" you heard him scoff and see him rolling his eyes by your words.

"it's impractical and cost more" he retorted back, you look at him dumbfounded, he say it's expensive but doesn't blink an eye to spend money if it's buying you things. "then wear contacts instead" you said to him, you could only hear grumbles under his breath and words of refusal.

you sighed and asked him why he was so disagreement of wearing contacts, he only stayed silent not answering your question, he didn't want to admit that the thought of something like contacts touching his eyes scares him, he cringes at the thought of putting contacts and touching his eyes to get it out. Besides that it takes a lot more effort to put on than glasses,

the third time was a finally the time you had successfully convinced him to put contacts, though you weren't the one who asked but him instead surprisingly.

he had watched you get ready in the morning sitting in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back to put on your contacts. he eyed you in amusement as you successfully put on your contacts on the first try, that's where he got up from your guys bed, still shirtless only wearing loose sweats that's hanging dangerously low on his hips, showing off the band of his boxers.

you watched him through you mirror as he approached you from behind, you greeted him good morning earning you a low hum from him and a raspy morning. bending down to your sitting position to give you a small kiss on your cheek, eyeing both of your reflection in the mirror.

"mind putting contacts on me" with his words, your mouth went agape, looking at him if he was sure and it wasn't his sleepiness just talking. seeing that he was dead serious, you smiled brightly before standing up from your seat and drag him to sit on it instead, opening a drawer to grab another set of contacts. sitting on lap to have a better view of his face.

he grumbled saying you hadn't need of sitting on his lap but his hands that's already resting on your thighs is enough for you to know he doesn't really mind.

"Don't look at me like that, I won't be able to focus and put this on you properly"

"What do you want me to do then? Close my eyes"

"You know what, shut up instead"

Kei concluded that if it means you can sit on his lap everyday to put those stupid contacts on him, he might just wear those instead of his glasses instead.

________________

Bonus!

"Fuck, I wouldn't ever trust you going near my eyes again, I feel like im gonna go blind any second"

"Don't be dramatic, you were moving you eyes so much thats why I had to put it so many times"

"I wanna go back to my glasses.."

#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu drabbles #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei #haikyu x reader #tsukishima drabbles #not proofread we die like men!!#gn reader

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missmeinyourbones · 2 years

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𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓 (kento nanami x reader)

inspired from this list of prompts | wc: 0.8k | for my beloved @bagsyy <3

The morning feels cold, despite the humidity from the summer’s first heat wave wallowing outside.

Nanami tries to convince himself that maybe he turned the air-conditioning up a bit too high before going to bed. That must be why he feels an uneasy chill crawling up his spine—not because of the argument the two of you had last night.

No, because of the air-conditioning.

Nanami begrudgingly gets himself ready for work, alone, and it feels oh so wrong.

He crawls out of bed without a good morning kiss from you, and he subconsciously picks at the dry skin on his lips—he doesn't think they’d feel nearly as dry if you had kissed him as soon as he’d woken up. He sulks in the bathroom as he brushes his teeth, and the mundane task isn't nearly as entertaining without you hanging from his waist and making faces at him in the mirror. He gets dressed, blazer and all, and fiddles with the tie he can’t nearly perfect the way you seamlessly do.

When it’s somewhat presentable—or when Nanami knows it won’t get any better than it is—he swallows down the dull ache in the back of his throat and begins to grab his things to go.

When leaving your shared bedroom, he notices your figure no longer curled up on your side of the bed. Figuring you’d woken up and started your day, he expects to find you in the kitchen on his way out.

His suspicions are somewhat correct. You are awake, but you sit quietly on the futon, coffee mug in hand as you idly stare out the window.

Nanami can’t seem to get a read on you right now, which is odd—he normally knows you like the back of his hand. In fear of making things worse, he decides to play defense rather than offense.

With a hand on the doorknob and a foot out the door, Nanami hears your cold voice for the first time since last night.

“Fix your tie.”

He freezes in place, almost as if remaining still could camouflage him into the patterns of the wallpaper. He swallows that bubble in the back of his throat once more.

“What was that, honey?”

“Your tie,” your voice dryly cuts through the silence of your home, “Fix it.”

“Oh,” he sheepishly looks down.

He wasn’t aware his tie needed fixing. He thought he did a pretty decent job with it, seeing how his lover—who was usually on tie duty—wasn’t on speaking terms with him at the moment.

He slowly places his briefcase down by his feet and straightens his back a little. Nervously, he fiddles with the printed material—it feels slippery in his grasp, almost like he can’t get a proper hold on it and control where he means for it to go. It slips and slides through his fingertips one, two, three times before it becomes painful for you to stand by and idly watch.

With a sigh, you cave, “Fine, c’mere.”

You beckon your lover closer to you, watching him cautiously crawl your way. When he’s within reach, you grab his flimsy tie and pull him into your space.

“I don’t care how irritated I may be with you,” you mumble beneath your breath, “I’m not letting you leave the house looking like that.”

Like a deer in headlights Nanami freezes beneath your touch. A bit rougher than usual, you undo the clunky knots in his tie and remove it from his collar.

Nanami gets a proper look at your face for the first time this morning. It’s crinkled and grumpy and tired for too many reasons—but it’s still you, it’s still the face he knows to be his.

Feeling you rewrap the silk around his neck, he slightly shudders beneath your touch.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t,” he admits, “Should’ve seen me trying to tie it in the mirror, it was borderline pathetic.”

Still angry, you bite back a smile at the thought of him struggling with the accessory in front of the bathroom vanity. With the image in mind, you quip, “Oh, I can imagine.”

You fix his tie with your usual precision. Nanami watches your fingers effortlessly weave throughout the silk, looping the material through itself and pulling it taut.

He expects that to be all, he expects you to lightly shove him out the door now that his appearance is presentable. After all, he’s still not back in your good graces, yet.

You pleasantly surprise him as you use the tie to pull him closer, lips just barely against his as you whisper what seems to be a sweet threat, “And next time, don’t not say goodbye to me, even if I am mad at you.”

Feeling a weight instantly lifted from his chest at the light sensation of your lips against his own, Nanami audibly sighs into your mouth. The kiss is (a bit too) short and sweet, leaving him diving back in for a few more pecks one, two, three times over.

“There won’t be a next time, darling,” he ushers as he feels your hands against his chest, smoothing over his tie, “I promise.”

And ultimately, Nanami is nothing if not honest.

#not proofread we die like men #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami fic #nanami drabble

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134340am · 2 years

Note

heheh Yuna I love seeing you wholeheartedly embrace your coffeeshop era <333

& my order is one iced americano with one pump of chai syrup & our beloved kirishima kiss kiss

there's a commotion outside the agency.

you're not sure what it is, and why there's a huge flock of people waiting around—if it was a fight, red riot would've come out of his office and broken it up already; and if it was a bunch of adoring fans, security would take care of it.

so why is there a massive crowd gathering outside in the sweltering summer heat, on a random afternoon in the week? and why are the agency staff—sidekicks, marketing, the support team, and holy shit, is that Dynamight himself also making a beeline for the crowd outside?

you'd love to head out and investigate as well, maybe get in a quick walk around the block to stretch your legs, but you sit back down in front of your laptop. the agency can only afford to hire one receptionist for now, and that's you, which means you won't be leaving your seat any time soon.

you sulk from behind your desk as the agency staff slowly trickle back in, toting large cups of what looked like iced coffee and sweet tea. dynamight saunters back in behind a group of ladies from public relations, an americano in hand and a latte in another. you catch sight of a familiar face gracing the cup sleeves—spiky hair, stunning abs, and a smile so bright it could rival the sun. it's red riot.

holy shit, did someone order a red riot-themed coffee truck?

"it was denki's idea." a familiar voice rang out from behind you. "said he wanted to congratulate me for jumping up the ranks."

you turn to see kirishima, hair still dripping wet from his post-patrol shower. you struggle to keep your eyes on his face, and not on the water droplets that pool in his collarbones and trickle down past the hem of his shirt.

"oh, right— congratulations on number five, red riot!" you squeak, nails digging into your jeans. "well deserved, sir!"

he thanks you with a shy laugh. "i'll keep doing my best." kirishima's eyes trail over to your desk, noting the lack of an iced coffee on it. "do you not like coffee? last i heard, the truck serves tea as well."

"oh, i can't leave my seat."

"it'll only take a while, c'mon!"

"the line looks pretty long, though," you say with a wince. "but really, i'm fine! i'll take a look at the truck after work."

"hmmm, denki said it'll only be here till four, though." kirishima frowns. then he breaks into a smile, the change in facial expression happening so fast you nearly missed it. "wait here."

and he's gone, jogging off to where the truck was. you watch with equal parts embarrassment and honour as the crowd parts for him, your heart roaring in your chest. that must've been the longest conversation you've ever had with your boss in the past few months you've been working here—and now he's jogging back to you with an armful of four, no, five different drinks with a bright smile gracing his face.

well, that's it. this is hands down the highlight of your career.

"i wasn't sure what you liked, but it was my fault for not asking before i left—so i got a bit of everything," he explains, setting the drinks down on your desk carefully. "this is iced tea, this is iced mocha, this is, uh, oat milk latte, and this is just hot green tea. i can get you a honey stick if you want. and this is an iced americano with some chai in it."

kirishima concludes his ramble with a deep breath, looking immeasurably proud of himself for remembering everything.

"thank you so much, red riot. you really didn't have to." you can feel heat flaring up to your ears as you speak, a foreign twist settling in your stomach. "i'll take the americano."

"aw, don't call me red riot. just kirishima is fine," he replies with yet another smile, and there it is again—the strange fluttering in your tummy that makes its way up to your chest.

"thank you, kirishima." you test out the sound of his name on your tongue. you like it, you think. you'd like to say it more often.

kirishima picks up the mocha and crushes half of it in a single sip. "no problem!" he chirps with a grin. "anything for you."

send me your drink order + a character for a short little drabble!

#i love writing for bnha and i love writing for kiri T^T i had so much fun with this #sorry it's so long i got carried away (again) LOL #thank you for requesting nana baby <333 also i've never had americano with chai before!!! putting that on my to-try list :O #also... i m paging for my kiri anon #i miss u where did u go T^T wahhhh #kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader #yuna writes #not proofread we die like men

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