“I thought I was supposed to be the one worshipping you today,” you say in a gasp, eyes fluttering close as you grip the sink counter tight in front of you. Bakugou only huffs a little laugh, his nails digging into the fat of your ass before he taps his palm against the flesh hard, eliciting a little hiccup from you.
“‘S my birthday, so what I say goes.” he tells you muffled, the vibration of his words making your knees quake. he has to hold you up, but he doesn’t care, finds the weight of you pressing back into him something he can get drunk off of.
he woke up nearly right after you did, trying to squeeze you close to him in bed but you scrambled out of his hold, promising to make him breakfast instead. you hadn’t expected him to follow you, to press you against the sink, to nip at your neck and kiss his way down to where your underwear rested on your hips. hadn’t expected him to drop to his knees, to worship, to kiss, to taste you. hadn’t expected him to lick you so sweetly with such a rough tongue through the fabric, for your arousal to bleed through onto his waiting tongue.
“Better than breakfast,” he mutters against you, thick fingers spreading you wide to get a good look at your winking hole, how it drools down the inside of your legs. he spits on it, diving back in to follow the trail, his lips puckering as if kissing you in such an intimate way, you think your vision goes black for a moment.
“Make me cum,” you whimper to him, his lapping pushing you up onto your toes, your hips digging into the sink counter. you reach a hand back to hold his face still with a grip on ash blond locks, grinding yourself against him until his face becomes sticky, but he grins all the while. rolls his tongue from his mouth, lets you use him because there’s no better present than being able to please you.
it comes out as a gush, your pleasure. sprays all over his mouth and chin and neck, your cries stuttered and high, your eyes clenched shut, your entire body shaking from the stimulation that overtakes you.
“Even better than birthday breakfast.” Bakugou grins, nose slightly scrunching at the tug to his hair when he slurps at your hole that still drips for him, spitting back the contents once more. he doesn’t catch it this time, just watches the thickness of his spit mingle with your pearlescent stained cum, thumbing open your cheeks to watch your hole clench and unclench from the scrutiny, the wetness slipping down your thighs.
he kisses you once more, a smacking sound, humiliating, before letting your cheeks go. not without another smack on the roundness of them, nipping at the red and warmed mark of his palm that he branded on you just moments before.
“A lot fucking better.” he tacks on once more about the stupid breakfast. you glare at him over your shoulder, even though he’s the one who’s keeping you held up right now with his firm grip around your still twitching hips.
“You’re gonna stop shading my cooking, asshole.” you bite at him, unable to hold back a shudder when you catch his devious grin, the bottom half of his face and neck still wet from your squirting.
“You caught that?” he asks with an innocent cock of his head, pressing another innocuous kiss to your warmed flesh. you tug at his hair a little harder this time, knowing it’s something that the birthday boy loves, especially by the way he’s damn near leaked through his white boxers.
“Shit head.” you mumble, but he only grins wider, his eyes flickering with the promise of devouring you whole today. just as a little birthday treat, he supposes.
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And i keep thinking about how Oliver almost never shows himself crying for Felix.
Sometimes we can see a tear... the few times we see him actually crying is after the trip to Prescott and at the grave. Is like he's saying "well, my tears aren't important to the story, let's keep it moving".
Venetia said it, he was sobbing at the funeral. How many other times he cried for him?
We see little tears, but he cried, he sobbed and we don't get to see it.
"I loved him, but I mean... not that much. I promise, it wasn't like that. Actually I hated him, yes, i hated him. That's why I'm crying cause... cause I hated him so much".
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page 1 | page 2 | page 3 | page 4 | page 5 | page 6 | page 7 | page 8 | page 9 | page 10 | page 11 | page 12 (you are here)
image desc under readmore:
ID:
Panel one shows Tenzō having turned away from Kakashi. There's tears running down his face again, but his posture hasn't gotten tight and defensive again.
"Hah. That's a pretty big drawback," he says, half joking,
Panel two, Kakashi's arms enter the frame and grasp the edges of Tenzō's happuri. Tenzō, seemingly caught off guard, lets him do this, too surprised to even mind that Kakashi can see his tears.
"On the bright side, you have a home," Kakashi counters, "people you trust,"
"and a shiftless, good-for-nothing Captain, who's too lazy to fill out the paperwork for hospital-dodging." Kakashi says in panel three.
The image shows Kakashi smiling more convincingly, if a little apologetic, gripping Tenzō's happuri in his hand.
Panel four shows him holding Tenzō's happuri out with one hand, and Tenzō grabbing the metal sides of it with both of his own hands.
"Anyway, I'm pretty sure you're not a liability or a threat to Konoha," Kakashi says.
In the final panel of the comic, Tenzō ducks his head, looking up with one tearful eye as Kakashi reaches out. Tenzō is still gripping his happuri in his hands, close to his chest. Kakashi's back is drenched in the yellow light of the hall.
"My couch is yours, if you want to stay the night," Kakashi is saying as he ruffles Tenzō's long, now-unbound hair.
/end ID
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