#suck my toe you pro life fucks
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Looking to play some new games AND donate to an abortion fund? LOOK NO FURTHER!
#abortion rights#body autonomy#video games#indie games#politics#reproductive rights#suck my toe you pro life fucks
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”i can’t write” then proceeds to write the most toe curling statement i have ever seen in my life BITCH WHO ARE YOU FOOLING kayla you will finish that thirst. NO QUESTIONS
𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒚 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆
@itoshi-s @katasstrophy this is for u mi luvs ! it was supposed to be a drabble but it got out of hand
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦 ! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
CW ꒱ིྀა : smut ៸ fem! reader ៸ dirty talk ៸ creampie , isagi’s mean ៸ explicit language ៸ he mocks you ooh ៸ chara aged up to 20+ bc pro player yoichi is mi luvv.
“I ASKED YOU A QUESTION BABY, ARE YOU GONNA ANSWER IT? OR DO I HAVE TO FUCK IT OUT OF YOU?”
isagi murmured, his lips leaving open mouthed kisses onto your collarbone, a hint of a smile as he heard you whimper. isagi is gentle with the way he talks to you, voice soft as if he might wake up the neighbors, but his hands think otherwise, bruises beginning to flower onto your skin from his rough treatment, his hands gripping onto your hips like his life depends on it as he slams you onto his cock once more.
“ngh-haah…” is all you can cry out, hands weakly gripping his broad shoulders as his unforgiving treatment continues.
“ ‘m talkin’ to you angel, don’t tell me you’ve been fucked dumb.”
gritting your teeth at his mock statement you managed to muster out a , “ ‘m not dumb!” eyes watery with tears as you whined as his thrusts slowed to a halt, cruel smirk playing at his lips. “you’re being mean yoichi!”
“yeah? ‘m being mean?” a muffled growl rips through his throat as he hunches forward and moves his hands from your hips to your shoulders and manhandles you under him, cock slipping free from your velvety walls. “no you’ve got it wrong baby it’s you who’s being mean, cozying up to kaiser like that you little slut.”
you hate this. the embarrassment and degrading feeling you get when he acts like this but you can’t help but tremble in absolute delight. you’ve finally gotten his attention. growing confidence and completely losing yourself to lust, you humor isagi’s gain of trying to break you. if it’s praise he wants, it’s praise he’ll get.
“ ‘m sorry yoichi i promise ‘m all yours!” you arch your back so he can get a perfect view of your wet cunt, “please don’t tease ‘ichi please.”
you sound so pretty begging for him. “yeah? say please then. pretty pretty please,” he laughs as you let out a frustrated groan.
“prettyprettypretty please yoichiii!”
“awww,” he mock pouts at you, “yoichiiiii” he imitates your voice, laughing cruelly at you while he watches in amusement as you maneuver yourself onto your hands and knees, a ghost of a smile playing on your face as you hear isagi groan an oh fuck.
“yeah that’s it. show me how pretty that pussy looks from the back.”
shifting closer to you he drags his cock through your wet folds, gripping your waist from the back he enters you harshly, hips ramming forward with no thought to play nice. buried deep inside once more he fucks you with greed, his pace unforgiving as he buries his dick into you over and over and over again.
“soccer ain’t got shit on this pussy.” isagi throws his head back as he moans, leaning over your back to grab fistfuls of your hair and tug your arched back against his toned chest, his chuckles wavering from his thrusts as he fucks into you with more force, hard enough to bruise your ass. “tell me baby who’s the best, huh? who’s number one here?”
breathless moans leave your mouth, eyes closed in pure bliss as your arms reach over above your head to tug Isagi’s raven locks, needing to stabilize yourself as his hips repeat the same delicious motion that makes your head spin, split open on his cock over and over again. “you, yoichi ah fuck— you’re the best, only you baby”
“oh shit baby that’s it. I’m your only one, got that?” he groans out hotly, sucking onto the sweet spot of your neck hard, fingers sneaking their way to your bundle of nerves and rubbing tight circles.
“mhmm.. haaah! n-no one else yoichi just you!” isagi rolls your clit between his index and middle finger, his hips setting a faster and harder pace to fuck into you harder, each clap of his hips against your ass leaving you dizzy as his cock fills your warm walls, shaping your cunt to his size to mark what’s his.
“y’re killin’ me here angel fuckkkk this pussy is so. fucking. pretty” he emphasizes his words with hard powerful thrusts, his headboard banging against the wall in response to his work.
god your neighbors must hate you guys.
isagi’s unrelenting pace, his fingers abusing your clit all becomes too much for you as he feels your cunt flutter around his cock. “that’s it angel yeah, cream my cock give me all of that pussy.”
that was the last straw for you, tightening your walls around him you finally feel the tightening in your stomach finally snap as your orgasm spills out of you, coating Isagi’s length in slick.
“ugh! oh shiiit!” isagi thrusts up once more, stilling as he paints your walls in white, deep inside of you, both of you letting out a sigh in relief.
feeling your legs give out Isagi holds your form more firmly so you don’t fall, he pulls out of you carefully, pride swelling in his chest as he watches his cum drip down onto the sheets. kissing the back of your neck he embraces you a little longer, not wanting to let go, not wanting to forget the warmth he always longed for whenever he was away.
Right now he doesn’t even think about leaving your arms right now. He just wants to bask in the glow of you and your warmth.
© 𝐘𝐀𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐋𝐓𝐓. do not, in any way steal, plagiarize , or repost any of my works. any translations and modifications are not tolerated.
#ཐིཋྀ◞𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓴𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓮𝓼#blue lock#𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒑𝒆𝒆𝒌 ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა#blue lock x reader#bllk x reader#blue lock smut#bllk smut#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi yoichi smut#blue lock x you#isagi smut#isagi x reader#bllk x you#this was so self indulgent i’m sorry
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Hi Jade! I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for a while now - could you do some head cannons about the main trio being incubus’s (a creature who basically resembles a male and feeds off having sex while the victim is asleep) and meeting the reader and feeding off them but slowly falling in love with the reader? Thanks!
Sweet Dreams and Deep Fantasies
「Sorry about the wait, Ya buddy here just got through finals and shit, I’m beyond exhausted. I’m also in the process of moving too, so whew. I’ve got a lot going on…BUT I’M GONNA DO THIS!! I hope ya love it, anon!~ෆ」
⊰ 18+! (Anyone who’s underaged will be blocked!)ও
↬ Disclaimer: Cursing, Somnophilia, Sexual Themes & Acts, Sex Demons.
↬ word count ᱺ 2.1k ෆ
⧽ Let’s start with the nicest of the bunch, unlike the others on this list. Izuku doesn’t really strike you unless you really need it.
⧽ Between work/school, you were running on desperate times there.
⧽ Your toys weren’t cutting it, and you were too scared to try Tinder or sex websites because you don’t want to end up as a missing person or a dead body in a ditch.
⧽ But the stress of life was getting to you. Rent due, Car due, Gas and Water due and you’re doing long ass hours only to have your shit gone before you could even try to enjoy.
⧽ You’ve done the relationships, all ending badly and you didn’t want to ignite the flames of the ex back into your life.
⧽ So, after an upsetting masturbating session, your little helper was placed back in the third drawer of your side table.
⧽ With an upsetting sigh, you closed your eyes and started to drift off to dreamland.
⧽ You appeared to be in a…rather revealing position when you did. Your legs were over your head, tied together.
⧽ Your eyes were confused, unsure of how in the hell you ended up like this! You wanted to have a simple dream! Hell, that candy one was satisfying for the night!
⧽ That’s when you felt a warm sensation on you.
⧽ Your body shuttered at the feeling and you tried to move your legs to see who the hell was licking the palace without consent!
⧽ The tongue slithered up and down on your slit, slipping inside you. Your toes curled, pleasure rushing through your body with the intensifying sensation driving you wild.
⧽ Your mouth opened wide, your hips grinding against the sensation.
⧽ “Desperation, Lust, Desire…” A voice said, sitting up and lowering his legs.
⧽ His large, green tail curled while your body laid limb, the urge for more was radiating off your body.
⧽ Your eyes wandered to the being above you, his large freckled body laced with a few scars, his bold green skin.
⧽ His large hands gripped your thighs, pushing them back further so he could have more access. You started to move a bit because LIKE ANY SANE PERSON, WHO OR WHAT THE HELL WAS THIS DANMN THIS IS, AND WHY IS IT EATING YOU OUT LIKE A DAMN PRO?!
⧽ “Calm your nerves…and relax, you’re making this hard.” The voice ordered, sending chills down your spine. That’s when their tongue slipped in deeper and your back arched.
⧽ Was it bad that you sat there and just took it? Maybe.
⧽ Was it good when you came like a fuckin hose that had thousands of kinks in it?
⧽ Hell MOTHERFUCKIN Yeah!
⧽ You awoke that morning with a confused look, unsure of how you made such..a mess in your poor bed.
⧽ That was only the beginning.
⧽ The next night, it happened again. The green beast appeared and you finally saw his face.
⧽ Large dark green eyes and freckles on his cheeks, it’s all you could focus on.
⧽ Even when he was inside you, sucking the sexual energy out of you.
⧽ Each deep thrust he gave you simply overwhelmed your needy, simply desperate body.
⧽ He was something you desired, you craved. You needed.
⧽ After a week of this, you simply ask for his name while you two were fucking from the side. You turned your head to look at him while he held your leg high in the air.
⧽ “I-I-Izuku..” he whispers in your ear, before biting it and thrusting faster.
⧽ And that’s where it began.
⧽ Izuku began your little helper after long days and terrible dates. He’d make your little dreams better. He fucks your little brains out and leaves completely satisfied.
⧽ He’s a sweet, kind, and caring demon too. He loves altering your dreams to accommodate your desires.
⧽ He’s honestly one the nicest demons out of the entire bunch until things start to sour between you two.
⧽ It’s kind of hard to only have someone appear in your dreams…and when work gets tough, you’re not able to drift to sleep fully.
⧽ So the next time you do finally rest, he’s not there. Your green Prince wasn’t there anymore.
⧽ But don’t worry, your job receives an exchange worker who transfers from another country…
⧽ And he’s suspiciously named Izuku too~
⧽ Remember being a kid and your parents would tell you that you should be careful of what you wish for?
⧽ See, we don’t always think about shit that we say? You obviously didn’t when you supposedly summoned a damn demon on yourself.
⧽ If you had been to a slumber party and played Bloody Mary or with the Ouija Board then you’d know how.
⧽ It wasn’t like your life sucked really.
⧽ You had the perfect job, car, life, and even significant other. Everything was peachy….except when it came to the sex.
⧽ That…massively lacked. Baby boy didn’t know how to…ya know, get you there.
⧽ So, often you faked it which is honestly kinda disrespecting because you’re over here with blue balls and another sad night where he’s knocked out and you’re accepting sleep while reading about other characters on A03 who’s getting better dick than you.
⧽ The second you’re asleep though, you’re opening your eyes inside your bedroom…but alone?
⧽ Your beloved was gone but something else was there.
⧽ Before you could even get out of bed, a tail was pulling you back into it. “I didn’t say you could leave, now did I?” The voice said.
⧽ It was raspy, deep….and made your panties wet instantly. It was demanding and practically had your toes curling.
⧽ Your head turned to see what it was, before you…a demon with mostly orange to red skin, blonde hair, and bold red eyes.
⧽ You couldn’t even figure out what the hell it was before your clothes started scattering all over the place.
⧽ He was rough, deep, and practically had your hands ripping the sheets.
⧽ “Right there! Right there!!” You cried out, your fingers tugging the sheets right off the bed.
⧽ You lost count of how many times you’ve come, cause you kinda forgot after one.
⧽ All you knew was when your eyes opened again, you were inside your bedroom and your lover was looking towards you confused and partially enticed.
⧽ “Were you dreaming of me? You sounded like a naughty little porn star last night~” They teased, making you blink in confusion.
⧽ The audacity of this man to fuck you IN YOUR BED IN YOUR HEAD TO MAKE YOU FEEL THAT DAMN GOOD THAT YOU MOAN OUTSIDE OF YOUR DAMN DREAM?!
⧽ You couldn’t even dare to admit to what happened in your dream? It’s a one-time thing, right?
⧽ Haha, nope. The next day, he came back.
⧽ Again. Again. And Again.
⧽ It’s so bad that your lover starts to envy your own dreams and questions what’s sex like with them and your supposed wild-ass dreams.
⧽ Your little red demon always left you shaking in his arms or on your bed.
⧽ He loved having you cry, pant, whine and simply disrespect your lover who was in the same bed as you two.
⧽ There was one session in which he made you so damn weak, your legs gave up the second you tried to stand up the next day.
⧽ Like all good things, shit hits the fan one day. You come home from work to find your lover with..another inside your bed. As expected, you’re enraged and kick them out.
⧽ You turned your phone off and head out to the club to clear your head with a few girlfriends.
⧽ While twerking your relationship away and drinking your sadness, a hand grabbed your hips and whispered in your ear.
⧽ “I’ve been watching you all fuckin night….think you can do that with me, baby?” He asked. That voice sent chills down your spine.
⧽ With a smirk on your face, you took your little spiky-haired boy towards the door.
⧽ That bed your ex-love disrespected earlier was promptly broken by that damn blonde.
⧽ Whoever said College was fuckin easy was a goddamn lie?
⧽ Whoever lied and said that it was easy, should choke on a dick and die?
⧽ You’re struggling, dragging, brunt out and still trying to function.
⧽ Clubs, Classes, Part-Time Work, and Rent were making you want to blast your damn brains out.
⧽ Mid-Terms were on the horizon and thousands were dropping from their classes already. No one didn’t want to do this shot anymore?
⧽ The true warriors were still fighting and pushing themselves toward the finish line.
⧽ Your eyes were peered into a boom inside an empty library, it was reaching midnight while the exhaustion of your job from earlier that day.
⧽ Your body demanded rest.
⧽ Your stomach was demanding food.
⧽ Hell, Your body was just deflating at this point.
⧽ Your head plopped onto the book, soft snores escaped your mouth while you drifted into deep and much-needed rest.
⧽ Your dreams were always practically darkness. A time when it was simply black because your mind was too damn tired to give your exhausted ass something to dream about.
⧽ However, this time. You wake up inside a hot tub.
⧽ Before you can even question how you’re inside a hot tub and also naked, something pressed against your body.
⧽ The vibration made your body jump and wiggle a bit, who has the infamous magic wand in there, and who’s holding it?
⧽ Your hand reached underneath the water to retrieve it, but another hand lifted your head.
⧽ “Close your eyes and relax…you’re not allowed to touch.” The voice ordered. It was a cold, stern, and simply sexy ass voice.
⧽ Who are you to disobey rules? Especially since you hadn’t had this much sexual pleasure in a while?
⧽ Your breathing hitched, and your toes curled before your body was lifted.
⧽ That’s when you felt the Arctic cold which caused your nipples to stick out.
⧽ That was before he slipped inside WITH EASE. The intense combo of hot and cold was overstimulating your body.
⧽ You were already needy as hell, but shit! You’re sucking..whatever this thing in with each thrust he gave you. Your hips even started moving on their own, rocking back and forth.
⧽ Your eyes opened for a second, looking to see such an odd figure.
⧽ Large red hands hugged and held your body. The left was on your hip and the right was loosely holding your face.
⧽ You couldn’t even focus on what it was…when your body was jolted awake.
⧽ Your eyes opened and you sat back, seeing a worried elderly woman. “Are you okay? You were moaning over here in your sleep…” she asked as she looked at you.
⧽ Your heart dropped to your feet as worry washed over you. SHE HEARD YOU RIDING ON….WHATEVER THAT WAS?! You didn’t even respond to the woman, you pack your items and head to your car.
⧽ You head home, get in your bed, and tried to justify what happened as a lack of sleep and simply being horny for some reason.
⧽ ONLY TO WAKE UP INTO THE DREAM WITH SAID DEMON GOING HARDER THAN HE WAS BEFORE YOU WERE WOKEN UP.
⧽ And that’s how it started.
⧽ You went from studying at the library to forcing yourself to stay home, because your big ass demon didn’t give a fuck. Fall asleep and your ass was his.
⧽ Crash in class, boom. You’re moaning inside the classroom.
⧽ Crash during your break? You sound like a porn star inside the break room with your uncomfortable co-workers.
⧽ Your bed was your safety and practicality a sanctuary. No one could hear how loud you were and what he was using on you.
⧽ Sho, which was the name of said, Incubus. You found out while on a sex swing, handcuffed. You cried out shit, and he corrected you with Sho…before proceeding to make you scream his name.
⧽ He always created a room that included his usual elements, Hot and Cold.
⧽ Little did you know, he was helping you get exactly what you needed to focus.
⧽ He worked his magic on you until after the midterms. Once you turn your test in, could you simply rest without a single issue?
⧽ Poof, he’s gone. Your dreams are simply dead and you’re left pretty upset.
⧽ Things go back to normal, leaving you sad. You walked into the library, holding your books and things while listening to music.
⧽ You walked towards your usual study area, which was reserved for you because no one really deserved it.
⧽ You opened the door and walked inside, only to freeze at the sight of a man with..red and white hair. He looked at you confused while you blinked.
⧽ “Oh! Sorry! I didn’t mean to! I-I can come back!” You stammer, embarrassed, and start to turn around.
⧽ “No, no….Why don’t you come in and join me?..” the voice said, standing up and walking towards you. “Just close your eyes and relax~” he whispered, pulling you close.
⧽ It's funny how dreams can become a reality.
#my hero academy fanfiction#opaque posts!#bnha imagines#i hope you like this#my hero academia#bnha fanfiction#izuku x reader#bakugou x reader#shoto todoroki x reader#incubus#sex demon#18+only#my hero x reader#my hero headcanons
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With Good Weather Brings Good Breedings. (18+ Fic)
Pairing: Poly!KiriBaku x Black!Bunny Girl!Reader
Synopsis: In which your spring cycle comes a little earlier than usual and you’re too afraid of your boyfriends–whom you’ve been dating for five months–thinking you’re weird instead of telling them about your cycle during mating season. However, during a picnic thrown especially for you, your two favorite pros are more aware than you realize and are more than happy to help you with your little problem.
Story Warnings: Smutty Smut, 18+ (MINORS STAY TF AWAY), Poly Romance, AgedUp!Pro!Bakugou & Kiri (they’re in their late 20s), Black!Reader, Bunny Girl!Reader, Mating Cycle, In Heat, Dick Crazed, Public Sex/Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Foreplay, Nipple Play, Light Foot Fetish (Toe Sucking), Clit Stimulation, Overstimulation, Deepthroating, Biting/Nibbling, Hair/Ear Pulling, Tail Stroking, Spanking, Face Fucking, Light Hints of Dacryphilia, Degradation, Name Calling, Pet Names, Multiple Positions (Doggystyle, Full Nelson, Mating Press), Non-Protected PIV/Non-Safe Sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT), Mentions of Breeding, Squirting, Creampies, Facials, Aftercare
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer’s Note: Happy spring, y’all!! Decided to celebrate by giving y’all another smutty short fic. You’re welcome, enjoy & thank you tons for the love on my work so far. Stay safe out there cuz COVID ain’t over. Wear your mask!! -Jazz
Chapters: One, Two, Three, Four, Five
Read on AO3 here!
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
CHAPTER TWO: Fever
The next day is Friday, which means you don’t have to go to work until noon.
Which gives you just enough time to work out what to say to your boyfriends when you see them at work.
Since yesterday when Mina and Jirou gave you some good advice that you may or may not take, you’ve been suffering in silence with your anxiety over what to do next.
You lie in your bed now in your bunny PJs, staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom. You’ve been up since 7 AM contemplating whether to call Kiri and Bakugou, ask them to lunch, or visit tonight to talk things over. No amount of yoga or meditation you did earlier soothed you either. You were buzzing with anticipation and anxiety, making your stomach turn before you even had breakfast.
You rolled over to stare at your phone on the charger next to your bed. You should probably call. ‘But what if they’re sleep?’ you wonder. Still, you could shoot them a text. But how should you start it? How would you even start the conversation once you’re face to face with them?
You know logically, it’s not that hard, but it’s easier said than done. You groan, throwing an arm over your eyes. Almost as if punishing you for your acting so bizarre and forcing you to face your shit, your phone rings.
You look, finding Kiri’s name flashing across your screen. Your heart begins to pound against your chest and your stomach flips. With a deep breath, you reach for your phone and answer the call. “Hello?” you answer, making your voice sound groggy and soft as if you just woke up and you weren’t awake for hours dwelling over your life’s decisions.
“Good morning, sunshine.” Kiri’s deep, raspy voice fills your ear, making warmth curl into your core. “How’s it goin’ this morning? We missed you yesterday.”
“Good morning,” you reply and fake a yawn.
“Shit, were you sleep?” he asks, sounding apologetic. “I thought you’d be up by now since it’s 10 AM.” “She doesn’t go into work till noon, dumbass!” Bakugou growls in the background. “I told your ass to wait till then!”
“Bakugou says hi,” Kiri sighs as you giggle to yourself. “As you can see, we’re together and driving to work now. Just wanted to give you a call and see how your day went yesterday since we didn’t get a chance to talk last night.”
You remember coming home early from work yesterday before sunset and falling asleep before ten while Bakugou and Kiri were out patrolling for the night till about midnight. You don’t know how they stay so upbeat and resilient despite the long hours of being on the streets, not to mention fighting crime and getting bruised, beaten, and banged up. These are just two of the reasons why you adore them so much.
“It was fine,” you say on your back, still looking up at the ceiling. “I met up with Mina and Jirou; they said hi.” You roll over onto your stomach, giving your tail time to stretch. “I missed y’all though. The office was a little less bright without you seein’ you two waltz in.”
“Well, lucky for you, baby, we’ll be there all day today,” Kiri chuckles, the pet name making you stupidly smile into the phone.
“So what’s up with today?” Bakugou asks, getting right to the point. “You still got your break at two today, right?”
“Yep,” you reply. “I’m at work from 12 to 6 today since I come in at noon. How come?”
“Just asking,” Kiri replies. You can hear the smile in his voice. “Wanna make sure you eat in between work, y’know? You’re always hustling in there. I can see why your boss likes you.”
“A little too much, if you ask me,” Bakugou grumbles, making you roll your eyes. He’s always had this theory that your boss is trying to get a piece of you. “It’s bad enough you got that cute lil’ cotton tail.”
Hearing him talk about your tail like that–something you’re a bit insecure about anyway–does something to you. “Mmm, definitely,” Kiri purrs, sounding positively hungry for you. “Not to mention those damn skirts and work pants you wear. I’d wish you let those ears of yours free too.”
You find yourself pushing your thighs together as warmth curls into your core at their sweet words. These are just a few examples of how they sweet-talk you. Most of it is done when you’re all intertwined with one another on your couches or beds, lips moving against skin, and hands all over each other.
Bakugou’s fingers would be caressing your jaw as he whispered to you in his graveled, baritone voice, “Why are you so fuckin’ cute? I just wanna eat you up.”
And Kiri, with his hands caressing your hips and fingers coaxing you out of your top, would chuckle in your ear, “He means in, mama. Not that he’d get any farther than me. My tongue would be between your thighs before he could blink.”
You desperately want that now as your mind wanders to unholy places. “You know I can’t do that, ‘Suki,” you tell the grumpy blonde over the phone. “I only put my ears back to avoid the looks and unwanted tugs from snot-nosed kids and pervs on the street. It’s bad enough I have to ruin my clothes to let my tail breathe.”
“So If I say I wanna tug at your ears with your consent, does that make me a perv too?” Kiri asks curiously. His question makes you laugh. “You sayin’ that as if I wouldn’t let you,” you boldly reply, your fingers toying with the collar of your shirt.
“Oh, would you now?” Kiri chuckles suggestively as Bakugou groans in the background, the sound making your clit jump excitedly. “Keep talkin’ like that, baby girl, and we’ll come right over there.”
“Promise,” Bakugou growls, pure conviction in his voice.
“I…” The words die in your throat suddenly, but not that you would have a good response to that anyway. You already created a trap for yourself that exposed your deviant, horny side to your boyfriends.
And just like that, something happens to you in that moment. A switch flips and you find your body reacting immediately. Your skin becomes hot and clammy, your heartbeat accelerates, and your face flushes as if you’re growing a fever. That warm feeling in your core that grew at the sound of your boyfriends’ voices grows, as well as the wetness that had begun to coat your pussy walls. You’re suddenly soaked, ruining your panties despite no stimulation.
‘What the fuck?’ you think.
“Baby?” Kiri questions, and you realize you’ve been silent. “You still there?”
The pet name he uses only seems to make things worse. You cover your mouth to hide a whimper of need, swallowing it down. “U-Uh, yeah,” you stutter out as you abruptly sit up. “I just realized I need to clean my apartment before work. I-I have to go.”
“Well, okay,” Kiri replies, obviously noticing your sudden change in demeanor. “Just don’t work yourself too hard.” A grin splits across his face as he teasingly purrs into your ear, “That’s our job.”
Your body reacts immediately, even to Bakugou’s sexy ass laugh in the background. Especially your pussy. It’s as if she has a mind of her own as she clenches around nothing and gushes in your panties.
Not to mention your ears and tail. They twitch and are sensitive to the touch, even as you lightly brush the tip of your ear. Sparks of pleasure shoot into your core and you bite back a soft moan.
“Y-Yeah, okay!” you quickly reply. “I’ll see you guys at work. Be safe, bye!” The goodbye is practically word vomit, but enough to get you out of that call. Quickly, you hang up, toss your phone aside, and move to your mirror to check yourself out.
The woman staring back at you is not at all you. She looks feverish, her forehead coated in a light sheen of sweat and her face flushed. The fluffy rabbit ears atop her head are standing at attention, the fur standing on end as if stimulated beforehand. Her chest rises and falls rapidly, her breasts jiggling slightly as she attempts to catch her breath.
“No,” you whisper to your reflection, your eyes wide with panic. “No, no, no!”
You immediately race to your calendar and trace the dates to March 20th. Next week on Tuesday. The first day of spring. Also the day you’re supposed to begin your spring cycle.
However, with the symptoms you’re showing now, you know damn well that isn’t the case. You’re on your spring cycle early.
“Fuck!” you shout, your hands going to your hair. How is this happening? You thought you had more time to prepare yourself. How is it here this early?
Your pussy pulses again and you buckle, dropping to your knees with a yelp. Your hands immediately go to cup the space between your thighs which is completely damp, your PJ shorts soaked through the fabric.
You roll onto your back with a whimper and buck your hips in the air, your body moving on its own. Your pussy throbs and aches, desperate for something to cure you of your fever. “Okay, okay!” you groan at your body’s complaints.
You have about two hours until you’re due for work, so you hurry to pick yourself up off the floor and dig into your bedside dresser into your goodies drawer. Some extra condoms for hookups, a rose, and your trusty vibrator sit in there, beckoning you forward.
You pick up your vibe which you specifically got for the different settings, speeds, and the anal plug attached to it. Quickly, you lie back against the plush pillows on your bed and turn your vibe onto the second setting.
Slow enough to start but fast enough to build up tempo. You pull down your shorts and panties immediately, hissing softly as the cool air hits your sobbing wet pussy. There’s no way you can go to work like this. So you’ll have to solve this problem yourself.
‘Your boys would help you solve this problem,’ you think to yourself, that deviant, needy, desperate side of you making an appearance. ‘They’d come right over if you asked and help you out. They’d fuck you from dusk till dawn.’
A whimper escapes your lips as you press the vibe to your aching clit. As soon as the vibrations hit the bundle of nerves there, your toes curl and your mouth opens into a silent O. Your eyes flutter closed as you drift off into a land of fantasy, your mind going blank except for the visions of your boyfriends behind your mind’s eye.
You can see them now: them entering your bedroom door to find you with your vibe between your legs, a whimpering, needy mess. They’d smirk deviously down at you, lust in their vermillion eyes.
They wouldn’t have to ask if you want them; they’d know from the pleading gaze you’d give them. You’d watch as they strip themselves of every article of clothing they’d have on until they’re forgotten on your bedroom floor.
Your eyes would trace every ripple of muscle, every scar, and imperfection that just makes them sexier. They’d let you touch their pecs and abs, your fingers trailing over soft, heated skin and their biceps, squeezing and appreciating their impressive builds.
And then your eyes would go to their cocks: hard, thick, and veiny, standing at attention and dripping in precum. Just for you. “Well?” Bakugou would growl at you. “Don’t just look at ‘em, you pretty dumbass. Do somethin’ with ‘em.”
“We took ‘em out for you, gorgeous,” Kiri would coo down at you, standing on his knees on your mattress. “Touch them. Taste them. Let us know how much you want them.” They’d both push their hips out toward you, pushing their cocks in your face.
You’d be ravenous as you’d wrap your hands around their shafts and slowly begin to stroke your hands up and down, enjoying the soft moans and grunts that leave their luscious lips at the feeling. Your pussy would gush and throb knowing you’re making them feel that good.
Then your mouth would be on them, one at a time, sucking each of them off. You’d switch between their cocks, stroking one while sucking the other, your tongue lapping at their heads. As your boys toss their heads back and become louder with their moans, they’d touch your little cotton tail and ears, stroking and gently tugging at them to your liking. You’d whimper and moan around one of their cocks in your throat, doing your best to keep focus.
“Such a naughty girl,” Kiri would breathlessly laugh as he toyed with your ears. “Such a good little bunny.” He’d say the same thing between your thighs, his hands holding your legs apart with impressive strength.
Or maybe Bakugou would do that for him. He’d be sitting behind you while you’d lean against his broad chest, his big hands holding your legs open by your ankles while Kiri lapped at your pussy, sucking gently on your clit.
Your eyes would flutter closed at the sheer pleasure, your mind going blank. “Uh-uh, mama,” Kiri would coo into your pussy. “Eyes on me.” His ruby gaze would stare you down from between your twitching thighs.
“No,” Bakugou would growl, turning your face to face him by your chin. “Keep your eyes on me, baby. Just on me.” His fingers would tweak and pinch your hard nipples, making your toes curl and your voice come out in broken moans and syllables of their names.
Then they’d switch: Bakugou would then be eating your pussy while Kiri toyed with your nipples and ears, sending your body into overdrive as you writhed and moaned, begging them for release.
The same teasing would ensue when they finally fucked you. They’d have you in every single position known to man: doggy style; missionary; cowgirl; reverse cowgirl; spitroast. The spitroast would be the one that sent you over the edge, too aroused by having Kiri’s thick dick in your mouth and Bakugou’s long, curved cock in your pussy, pounding into you again and again.
They’d fuck you silly; dumb; stupid. They’d make it so the only thing you could think about was them and the way they slang dick. They’d coo sweet nothings and degradation laced with saccharine to you as their dicks pulsed inside of you.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so good!” Kiri would shout, his voice bouncing off your bedroom walls. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard for you!”
“Gonna fuckin’ breed you,” Bakugou would growl into your ear, his cock driving into you again and again. “Gonna cum so deep in you, you’ll be feelin’ me for weeks. Ain’t that what you want, slut, hm? You want daddy to cum up all inside you?”
“Yes,” you whimper, the vibe now on its fastest setting, the vibrations against your clit quickly sending you over the edge. “Yes, yes, please!”
“Cum with us, baby girl,” Kiri would moan as he gripped your hair and palmed your ass as Bakugou pounded your pussy so fast, it jiggled. “Fuckin’ cum all over Katsuki’s dick. Be a good little girl for us.”
You’d be helpless to resist his request and you’d cum all over yourself, the bed, and Katsuki’s amazing dick deep inside your cunt. That would trigger their own orgasms. They’d cum in your mouth and pussy, coating your tongue and pussy walls in their cum. The lewd sounds falling from their lips would trigger another mini-gasm out of you, making you shiver and shake as you do now.
You cum with a loud moan as you burst all over your vibrator, your cum dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets below your body. Your hips buck and your back arches, your mouth fallen in an O. You envision your boyfriends’ eyes, hot and filled with lust as they stare at you.
‘You’re ours,’ their eyes say. ‘And we’re yours.’
Finally, your orgasm fades and the aftershocks stop, but it did nothing to satisfy or satiate you. Though you know you’ll be good for another fifteen minutes, the need will just come back again until you’re a throbbing, needy, hot mess in need of some relief. How you’re gonna survive today at work or talk to your boyfriends without jumping them you have no idea.
You groan in frustration as you throw an arm over your eyes, panting heavily.
Fuck this shit.
#kiribaku x black reader#kiribaku x reader#kiri the shark boi#suki baby#black coded reader#black fanfic writer#bunny girl#my fic shit#my works#poly kiribaku
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Pro Hero Shoto Todoroki x fem! Reader
Breeding Kink Collab: @kxeyas (thank you for letting me join lovely ❤️)
Warnings: Explicit scenes and language, Breeding kink, implied multiple creampie, face sitting, biting, mentions of pregnancy (not pregnant yet but is definitely going to be lol), also Shoto just being sweet as always
Word Count: 1.5k
A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back with my entry for the breeding kink collab! Um breeding kink with Shoto?! 🥴 please I went bonkers writing this. My headcanon is that Shoto has twins. Two boys, two girls, one of each it doesn't matter (even though I think he would have twin girls and they would put barrettes and bows in his hair) Hope everyone enjoys! Likes, comments, and reblogs (tags too) are very much appreciated!
Shoto had never really been sure if he wanted kids. After the family life he had grown up with he felt like maybe he just wasn’t fit to have children, and for a short time in his life to have a family at all. Until he met you. The sun and moon in his sky, lighting up all of the good in him for everyone to see and showing him just how much he was worth. But he was still so afraid, afraid that all of the anger that had plagued him through his adolescence would resurface in the face of such extreme change. That is until you two were invited to come by Izuku’s home to meet his new baby. The joy and excitement on your face when Izuku’s wife sat beside you and handed you their newborn had his chest warming. The baby was cute, he had to admit, with the forest green curls and milky skin that would probably produce freckles like her father, a soft flush to her cheeks from being wrapped in a soft blanket. The picture of innocence. Shoto felt butterflies swarm his stomach as he watched you carefully hold her, whispering softly to Izuku’s wife about how sweet and beautiful the baby was, asking her if she was okay after having her and if she needed any help. You were always so caring and selfless in the best of ways, which made him think. He was twenty-nine now and not getting any younger, but he couldn't remember ever even having the conversation about kids with you so broaching the topic was going to have to be done delicately. Shoto hadn’t really thought about it again until one night when he was on his back underneath you, your thighs trembling against his face. It had been a long week away from you at a National Hero Conference and he had missed you dearly, wasting no time in stripping himself and you of your clothes before carrying you to the bedroom. The feeling of your thighs clamping around his ears was pure ecstasy, his heterochromatic eyes rolling back in his head at the taste of you. He could feel himself leaking copious amounts of pre-cum against his abdomen as you gripped into his hair, keeping pressed close into your dripping pussy until all he could taste and smell and hear was you.
“F-Fuck Sho, it feels so good, missed you so much” You moaned as he sucked against your clit. He groaned lowly against you, the vibrations running up your body making your legs clench tighter. You bounced your hips just a little against his mouth, grinding your clit against the tip of his nose as he pushed his tongue into your hole to taste you even more, his fingers pressing deep into the cheeks of your ass to spread you.
“God I want your cock, want you to fill me up,” you panted as shocks of pleasure ran up your spine. Shoto almost didn’t hear you through his muffled ears and all the blood rushing in his ears down to his cock, almost didn’t hear you.
“Want you to breed me, want to have your babies”. He felt his cock jump as those words graced his ears, a broken moan escaping him at the mere thought of filling you up. The feeling of his moan against your sensitive flesh had you tipping over the edge, crying out as the pleasure of your orgasm curled your toes. You barely even got a moment to catch your breath before he was lifting and flipping you so your back was to the mattress, a dizzy giggle bubbling from your lips as your vision swam before focusing on his flushed face. Shoto was so close, his muscular form pressing in and caging you against the sheets.
“Really?” He asked, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, his lips only a nudge away. You nodded, an almost shy flush burning your skin. You hadn't ever said anything about kids, even with being married for two years. Shoto had seemed indifferent to them, caring and respectful like he was to the core but never really interested. You had been thinking about how to ask him, how to talk to him about it, but the intrusive thoughts had won out. You gasped as you felt the flushed head of his length graze your soaked entrance, his chin still wet from spending the last half hour between your thighs as he leaned in to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
"Wanna feel you filling me up Shoto" you whimpered as he nudged your clit. He buried his face against your throat with a groan, pushing against your tight heat with a shaky breath.
"S-Say it again," he pleaded, trying in vain to keep his hips still and remain sheathed inside of your pulsing walls. You could barely catch your breath past the stretch, skin buzzing in pleasure as you locked your legs around his waist.
"Please," you moaned breathily, pressing hot kisses against the skin of his shoulder, "need it all inside, w-want you to breed me”. He rocked his hips against you with a groan, the filthy noise bringing a fresh burn to your cheeks. From what you could see in the dim lighting of the room, Shoto’s pupils were blown wide, a blush painting his usually milky skin as he gazed down at your body, the way it moved against him and with him at the same time, how soft your skin felt under his fingers. Shoto thought he was gonna lose his mind. You were so tight around him, squeezing him from all angles and pulling him back in whenever he tried to draw out.
“You feel so good, fuck” He hissed through gritted teeth, hands moving to grab yours and pin them to the mattress above your head, leaving you open to his wondering mouth as his lips captured one of your nipples, teeth grazing it softly before sucking it against his tongue. His mind wandered to the thought of your breasts swollen and full with milk.
“Gonna breed this pretty pussy,” He slurred lustfully against your skin, sucking a dark mark against the soft side of your breast before pulling off with a pop, "fill you up till it’s pourin’ out then go three more times”. Your eyes were rolling back as the harsh snap of his hips had the spongy head of his cock bullying against your cervix, so deep your toes were curling. Rough moans and lewd mewls spilled across your tongues as they curled together, lips kiss swollen and desperate to devour each other. Shoto has fucking you with a renewed purpose now, the bed creaking beneath you as he unlocked your legs from his waist and pressed them upward, slinging the right over his shoulder and gripping the flesh of your left and pinning it back nearly to your shoulder, your hips raised off the bed as he pounded into you. You could feel your juices running down to stain the sheets, painting Shoto’s pelvis and balls with a creamy wetness that shined on your thighs.
“I- ah- ‘m gonna cum again,” You moaned against his lips as your walls began to clenched down around him like a vice, stealing any breath or rational thought from his brain.
“That’s it love,” He cooed in a tone so lustfully sweet it made your tummy flutter, “Milk my cock and give me a sweet little baby, yeah?”. Your legs locked up under his fingers as your orgasm lit up every nerve, spots popping in your vision as a gasping cry rang your ears. The wet squeeze of your cunt pulsing around him nearly had his eyes crossing, his hands tightening against the plush of your skin as he continued to rail into you.
“I love you, fucking god I love you so much” He panted against your throat, sweat beginning to roll down his temples. You couple barely think past the feeling of him being so deep, pressing against every sweet spot inside of you, but you moved your hand from his unsuspecting grip to cup his cheek in your palm, dragging his lips back to yours.
“I l-love you too Sho” You whimpered on a quickly stolen breath. He pressed his forehead to yours as his body tensed, a deep relieved groan finally escaping him as his sensitive dick twitched and nudged nearly at your womb, thick shot after shot of hot cum painting your insides sticky. Shoto stayed deep inside for a few moments, you both catching your breath and letting your heart rates slow before he moved his hips back and pulled out, cum leaking thickly from your swollen pussy. You were about to roll to the side and get up out of bed, but he stopped you in your tracks, grabbing you by the ankle and pulling you to the end of the bed before flipping you.
“Shoto wha-” He cut you off with an almost stinging bite to your ass cheek, his hands massaging and spreading them to watch his cum ooze out.
“I told you three more times,” Shoto said with an almost growling roughness to his voice, nudging your knees apart and lifting your hips with his strong hands, “Gonna make sure it takes, tonight”.
#pro hero shoto todoroki smut#pro hero shoto todoroki#pro hero shoto#bnha smut#tw breeding kink#em writes ✍
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cw ;; strapping, top!reader, bottom!ochako, crying, rough-ish sex, reader is a little mean, much dirty talk, reader is afab, 18+
The arch of her back makes you believe in heavenly bodies.
Under the low, dingy lights of your living room - with nothing but the T.V. - it's hard to breathe as you slick your hand across your silicone cock. If you could you stroke yourself like that, but you settle for the pressure of the harness on your clit. Your eyes go hazy, free hand reaching for her calves.
Your hand pushes down on her calf a little as you stare at her with her ass up. There's a perfect line of sweat on her back, just down the line. Her muscles are accentuated, more than that that pretty shape of her ass and her pussy right between her legs. Lovehandles just on her hips move as she pushes backwards, so terribly impatient.
You think to yourself you want to give her head again, for another hour until your jaw is dislocating. That you want to suck on her clit until the sun makes shadows on the walls of this room, but instead you stand on your knees and reach your hands out for her ass, palming the flesh in your hands.
A deep groan leaves your chest unintentionally at the sight. The subtle twitch of her hole as she waits, anticipatory. She's all shiny, covered in cum and spit from earlier and so eager to get fucked by you. She lets out a delicate whimper when she feels your hand.
Taking your thumb through her folds, you swipe it up before leaning forward. You loom over her like a shadow, letting your strap settle between her cheeks and rubbing just enough to get her to grind back.
Hooking a thumb in her mouth all warm, you kiss the shell of her ear. She's so reactive to everything you do, every time like she's never been touched in her life. Maybe she hasn't before you. She lost her virginity to someone who didn't know her like you do.
And you know her well, know the way her tongue is gonna lap at your digits and how she's going to beg you to gag her on the rest. It's a little amazing to see her work like that. No matter which position you take her, she's always going to give you her best.
It's only natural to you to want to fuck her. To tease her until she's panting your name, desperate for you and only you.
"Look at you," You croon, fingers dgging into the softest part your thigh "Look at you desperate you are for it. Didja miss me that much?"
"MMf,"
You pull your hand away from her mouth to let her speak, arm securing around her waist to drag her closer to you.
"Missed you so much, missed your-"
She stops herself like she's embarrassed, planting her face into the cushions under you. You adjust yourself till the tip is hovering just where she needs, press so she can feel it. You don't move, merely grin, eyes glued to her sex.
"My?"
"Y-your.. y'know,"
You laugh lightly, but you can hear your own desires in your voice. They rip at you, make your head feel so fucking light as you watch her pussy stretch around the tip your cock. How she swallows the first inch with a soft gasp, then moans - so eager for you to force the rest in until you're all the way deep.
"My dick you mean," You correct. She moans harder, eager to receive vulgarity "Your pussy missed me more than you did,"
"That's not t-true, hnggh,"
"It's not?"
"Pro-Heroes' are supposed to be honest, Uravity," You watch with manic eyes as you slide into her further. She can take it so deep it always impresses you, the lewd wet sound of her welcoming you inside "You train all day and act all heroic just to let me do this to you,"
You push till your buried to the hilt. A little gasp leaves her mouth, all she can take. The shake in her voice is familiar, calves kicking up - toes curled. The phantom feeling of her makes your body tremble inward, how hot and wet you know she must be.
"Just to let me fuck you so deep you cry and wake up all our neighbors. Take it everyday like a prescription." You pull back out again, slower, and it comes out so shiny your groan "Of course I know you missed me, but your pretty little pussy must've missed me more, yeah?"
"Yeah," She whines, desperate for more. You grin.
"Good girl," You croon, practically itching to fuck her fast and hard "How should I reward you for being honest, hm?"
"Fuck me h-hard. Want you to fuck me-"
"Fuck you hard and deep, I got it. Always the same with you," You lean forward, pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade "Anything for my favorite rescue hero,"
Keeping word to your promise, you wrap an around her waist - fingers teasing her clit as you give it to her how she needs. Hard as in deep, the kind of thrust that makes her knock forward limp into your couch - where the sound of your skin hitting hers is so rough it's nearly startling. Fast like playing a drum, a constant scrapping that she always feels in her stomach later, makes her let out those noisy desperate cries.
Halfway through a sob, you lean forward to lick the tears off of her cheek. Salty in your mouth as you console her. She wants to cum but can't get the words out, can't form any sound other than choked moans.
"I know, baby. I know. Cum for me,"
And she does with a whine, hands reaching back to push you away as you fuck her through her overstimulation. It makes your head feel like it's full of lead, grunting as you don't slow.
"Didn't say you could run from me,"
When she finally comes off her first one, she's turning her head and pouting her lips at you. You look at her confused.
"Kiss,"
You merely laugh as you plant one on her.
#ochako x reader#writing tag#ochako smut#i want her so bad i hope i die tommorrow#i cant stop thinking about her like genuinely at all
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So, per that post about its being okay to post incomplete fics, abandoned fics, I’ve been digging through my files and having a look at some stories that started out well but never quite came together enough to be shared. A few of them do still look good to me. Like, with a tweak or ten here and there, that one where Clark rescues Bruce from the Underworld when he’s taken by a lamia (entirely inspired by Henry Cavill’s Immortals look, by the way)--that could still work. Maybe a couple others.
And then there’s Chapter Nine of Something Wicked This Way Comes, which I had forgotten even existed.
I mean... The last time the fic was updated was June 11, 2012, and I’m not even sure what’s going on here:
Chapter Nine
Man, could Gotham get any freakier? Mike Churchill lit a cigarette and huddled in the alley doorway outside the City Morgue, and thought about the pros and cons of relocating.
He tugged his peacoat tighter around him and sucked down some more cancer smoke, and snickered to himself at the thought. The way he saw it, your life expectancy in Gotham wasn’t anything to brag about anyway so you might as well grab the gusto while you could.
He guessed there’d be a lull in the action now until the next wackjob blew into town. Although he’d heard some of the cops talking, shifty like, just enough to make him wonder if there were more zombies on the way. Of all the crazy shit he hated about this town, fucking zombies was right up there at number one. He’d been on duty in the morgue when it started and he would not forget that as long as he lived. One minute a body was laid out on the table, ready to be sliced and diced, and the next thing you know John Doe’s on his feet, teeth sunk into Judy Tyler’s neck—and Mike hadn’t stayed around to see what happened next.
Yeah, he decided, as he finished the cigarette and hrew the butt down, grinding it out with his toe, it was high time to blow Gotham. Past high time. Kansas, Montana, that’s where he’d go, some place where nothing freaky ever happened.
As he started to go back inside, Mike stopped, head cocked to try and locate the noise he’d heard, like something scraping against the pavement. He looked up and down the alley, about ready to convince himself it was just his imagination working overtime, when he spotted a fat assed cat up on a Dumpster. He blew out a breath, aggravated that he’d let a stupid old cat spook him.
“Fuck off, furball!” The cat just stared at him—and then yowled like something bit its ass and jumped about six feet in the air, fuzzed out all over as it leaped across to a fire escape and zoomed to safety. Mike looked around the alley again, the hair on his arms standing up.
“Nothin’s there, nothin’s there,” he told himself even as he heard another scrape and saw a shadow move across the ground. “Oh fuck this,” he declared and hastily ducked back inside. He slammed the door shut and locked it—and jumped back a foot as a fist thumped against the door, hard enough to rattle it.
He backed up some more as shadows started to slither under the door and crawl along the floor toward him. Oh shit oh shit oh shit…
***
Jim Gordon winced as he stepped on some of the broken glass that littered the hallway. It crunched loudly under his foot and he kept absolutely still, barely breathing, as ten seconds ticked by; then twenty, thirty more, with no door banging open up ahead or sound of footsteps, and he let himself draw a deeper breath. He darted around a corner, his wrists crossed before him as he balanced a flashlight and his gun. He played the flashlight beam along the corridor and swore softly as he spotted Johanna Dawson and two attendants slumped against the wall, her head at an unnatural angle. He knelt and checked for a pulse to be sure, before turning his attention to the other two. One of them, a chunky kid with spiky hair and reeking of cigarette smoke, still had some life in him. The other was gone, though. Both of them and Dawson had scorch marks on their clothes and skin and some kind of sticky-looking residue, like a slime trail, smeared over them as well. The scorch marks and slime ran along the wall as well. Jim was careful not to touch it.
There was a crash, and Jim darted a look around. It had come from inside the autopsy room. As he approached the room, it had been dark, but now a dizzying, kaleidoscopic swirl of psychedelic lights was going off inside, interspersed with flashes of energy that looked like lightning strikes. His eyes dazzled by the display, he had to look away for a moment. That’s when he saw his own flashlight was about to die out.
A lot of the lights had been blown out when he and his officers had arrived, but there was an overhead light burning a few feet down the T-junction of the hallway, and the light from a streetlamp poured through a multi-paned window down at the other end. It was feeble, but it was enough.
He edged closer to the double-doors of the autopsy room and grimaced at the body bags that had been heaved off a pair of gurneys, unzipped so the contents could be inspected, and then tossed aside like trash. Jim started to step around them but then ducked back, out of sight, as the doors swung open and two figures walked out. No, Jim corrected that: one of them walked, the tall one swathed in a hooded, dark cloak. The other one, wrapped in a white sheet that trailed along the floor, could have come from a toga party. That figure stumbled and staggered after the cloaked figure as if drunk.
Jim didn’t think the individual was intoxicated. He wished that was it. There was something about that walk, the shambling gait, that made him think of the reanimated dead who had scuffed and staggered through the streets because of the dark sorcery of Felix Faust. True, Batman insisted there was no connection between that business and this current matter, and Jim had learned to trust his judgment. All the same, he couldn’t deny catching sight of that figure sent a shiver up his spine.
He shifted position—and winced as his foot crunched more broken glass. It sounded as loud as a gunshot in the quiet, and the cloaked figure turned to look in his direction. For an instant, Jim was uncannily reminded of the character in that Gray Ghost cartoon that Bruce Wayne had suggested he watch. There were no glowing red eyes piercing the darkness, but that might have been a welcome detail. He might have been able to laugh at that as something obviously phony and over the top. This figure, though, wrapped in its dark, hooded cloak that obscured almost everything, the malevolence carried in its gaze carried an intensity that he could feel crawl over his skin. The figure made a gesture and Jim raised his gun. No weapon was brandished; or, no gun or knife. Energy, like sparks of static electricity, spurted from its hands and hit the walls, the floor. Jim backed up instinctively as the bursts of energy turned into black blobs that flattened and spread out, like shadow forms slithering toward him.
All the while, the other figure, draped in its sheet, leaned against the wall, head lolling and jaw slack, eyes rolled back in its head. A stench of decomposition wafted from it, stronger by every passing second, and Jim had to struggle not to gag.
The shadow forms were closer and he backed up some more. The cloaked figure seemed to sag and stagger for a moment, panting as if fatigued. Straightening, the figure passed a hand over his companion, energy crackling once more, and this time Jim did perceive a red glow. Not from the eyes, but from the wrists and somewhere around the neck. In its sheet, the dead man jerked like a puppet and moved its head, sightless eyes passing over Jim before it shuffled after its retreating master.
Jim started forward but the shadows flowed toward him once more. A tendril groped toward him, brushed against his shoulder, and he lurched back as it burned. He slapped at his shoulder as the cloth smoked, the burn stinging his skin. More of the shadows were coming at him, swarming toward him—
Gauntleted hands grasped him and pulled, dragged him away from the shadows and into a room. The door was slammed shut as the shadows flowed forward. They oozed around and under the door for a moment, flickering like flames, before they withdrew and left a scent like ozone hanging in the air.
Jim ran a shaky hand over his hair as he turned to face his rescuer. “Batman? What the hell was that?”
“A further mutation I hadn’t factored in. Are you all right?”
When exactly had things like ‘further mutations’ become so normal? Jim wondered and shook his head. “Yes. I don’t know.” His coat had stopped smoldering but his shoulder felt hot and sore, the pain radiating across his back. “It was Wylde? Coming for Bloom?”
“Yes.”
Great, just great—“Hey!” Jim cried out in protest as Batman didn’t even bother with the courtesy of a warning before he began to cut away the burnt portion of Jim’s overcoat. “That was a gift.”
“I’ll get you another.” Batman examined the square of gray wool, even sniffed at it, before putting it away in an envelope and tucking that back in his utility belt. He extracted something else, a small aerosol tube. “Topical analgesic,” he told him, even as he examined the burn and then sprayed a fine mist over it. “That should help.”
Jim nodded as he felt it cool the burn. “It does.”
***
And that’s it.
I have a pile of notes, so figuring out what’s going on and what’s supposed to happen next is possible. (Rereading the fic would also help, of course.)
Is it worth it, for a long-forgotten fic? Something to ponder, I guess.
#just thinking out loud#times like this is when i most miss having a beta#somebody to bounce things off#oh well...#superbat#something wicked this way comes#never should have called it that but simply could not resist
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Sissification for Dummies
Sissification for Dummies
Want to become one of my sissys? I have a simple 3 part system called sissification for dummies guaranteed to help you through this transformation. Firstly lose the attitude girly. It’s time to rock it Melody style. Drop the brat attitude and any kind of ideas that you know anything about being a lady. Trust me you don’t. That’s why I’m here to teach you! So sit back my little dainty whore and get your panties ready sweetie it’s going to be a fun ride! By the end of this journey, you will be the perfect little strumpet! Follow me down this rabbit hole and let’s get to work!
Sissification: Dressing the Part
Part one of the sissification for dummies system is dressing like the cheap little slut you are. Items needed are tutus, hair bows, stockings and fuck me pumps, and additionally pretty girl lingerie. It’s time to party girls! Like a real lady you must know what’s needed so let’s just suck it up tootsies! It’s all about the pain and being uncomfortable because let’s face it sweet tits. Beauty is pain! Next up panties! Tuck it fold it or twirl it in a bow those little dikletts gotta go. Put on those hot pink panties and let’s ride! Lend yourself to the process to see what it’s all about! Loving yourself and really liking what you see in the mirror is the name of the game!
Sissification for Dummies Facial Care and Makeup
Part two of the sissification for dummies system is putting on our whore paint! Firstly wash your face then moisturize using a good facial moisturizer! This first step is needed to get all the oil off ensuring a perfect finish! Basic supplies include lipstick, blush, lots of concealer and powder. These items are the basic bitches of all makeup applications. The must haves of any women’s gear. The next level shit includes mascara, eyeliner, and fake lashes. I know we can do this together and with some time, thought, and preparation you too can first be a painted up whore just like the real ladies! Sit back, turn on the natural light, and blend, blend blend. It’s time to look the part you cheap little tart! When you see yourself your smiling you will certainly see the sissification for dummies system work!
Sissification It’s All About the Toys
Part three of the Sissification for dummies system includes hardware. Yes, ladies the good stuff to really get those pink rosebuds a puckering! Firstly Butt Plugs, dildos, and also stretchers oh my, these toys certainly will catch your eye! Variety is the spice of life sluts so surely one cannot have too many. Hoes undeniably remember to always be a lady and start basic and small and work your way up! We so don’t want to especially ruin your little tiny butt! Afterward, grab whatever catches the eye and lube it, suck it, or stick in dry. Thus this guarantees to make you scream with joy when you get to use a toy! Lastly, toys are so fun I just know you will keep cuming back for more sluts!
Stick with the program and eventually learn to be a pro slut and start playing with edging and keeping yourself on your toes! This is how the Sissification for dummies system works and if in doubt you can always call me and get on one assistance! enjoy yourselves you dirty bitches!
Melody
1-877-450-5897
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tall buildings blinking to airplanes in the snow
pro-hero!bakugou k. x reader (no pronouns)
wc: 10k
cw: friends 2 lovers, not in chronological order, inaccurate train schedules for plot, a single free willy joke, sections titled in latin because i suck i guess idk, unnamed american hero, an oc sidekick, sfw, not beta-read, reader is shorter than bkg no matter how tall you are, mutual pining, a fake manga, reader gets called pretty, reader has a quirk, fluff
tw: mild violence, blood mention, fight-related injuries, knives, cursing, alcohol, reader self deprecates a lil bit, mild hurt/comfort, slice of life
a/n: happy birthday @strawberry-nugget !!!(this is so late help) this 1 is for my co-owner of a brain cell, sweetest strawb kith kith
soundtrack. (not necessary but what i wrote to. songs can be listened to in any order.)
summary: what makes a home change? love. at least bakugou thinks so.
MDNI
nunc, hiems
(now) “I think we used to talk like that.”
Bakugou hums at you, eyes closed and head resting on your shoulder. You weren’t able to go to sleep and he woke from the lack of warmth from where you usually are. He doesn’t know what you’re talking about. “It’s so bright for two am. The sky is white ‘ki,” you whisper.
“Cause,” he opens his eyes one at a time, “S cause it’s snowing.”
“I know.” You laugh quietly like you’ll wake someone, “Just thought it looked nice.”
“Does,” he breathes.
Fake yawning, you raise a hand to your mouth, “Think I’m getting tired now.” Bakugou blinks his eyes open to sleepily glare at you trying not to smile.
He speaks into your shoulder, “Don’ lie. ‘M not even tired.” Your smile breaks through, warming him from head to toe.
“I’ll bet.” You say softly, shifting his head to your fuzzy blanket-covered lap. He pouts up at you but doesn’t try to move.
“Fuck am I doing down here?” You brush his hair out of his eyes as you rotate your shoulder in small circles, pretending to wince.
“Your big head was hurting my shoulder.”
“You love my big head.” You poke your tongue at him and push his grinning face.
You cover his eyes with your hands, “Go to sleep, freak.”
Katsuki stops moving after a bit and you assume he’s fallen asleep until he asks what you meant earlier. You’re not quite sure what he means— having chosen to spend the last few minutes tracing his features, gently humming random songs that blended into one another.
��The ‘used to talk like that.’ What wer’ ya lookin’ at?” He shifts again to look up at you through one eye.
You bite back the urge to laugh at his sleepy tongue, instead, bending over to gently headbutt him. He grabs the back of your head to keep your foreheads together.
“Something about how the lights let the airplanes know where it’s safe. Let them know where they can land.” You can feel his eyelashes brushing against your cheek with every blink.
“Doesn’t make shit sense.”
You huff and sit up. “You don’t make shit sense. Sleep already.”
“Ya wanna know what I think we talk like?” Bakugou asks as he places a rough palm on your cheek. A dark white sky and city lights give him a softened glow.
“No.” He grunts a laugh, eyes almost closed and a tired arm starting to rest on you.
“I think we always talked like this. Not a fuckin’ plane. Hate planes, so much prettier than a plane.”
You grab his wrist and press your lips to his palm, smiling against his hand when he hums at you.
“Pretty sure they use radios too,” he adds with a smirk. You bite his palm in response.
“Hope your snores wake you up.”
Katsuki turns to face your stomach and grumbles love you into your thigh.
duodēvīgintī, vernus (II)
(18) “And you! How does it feel to be a pro-hero, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight-san?” You ask, an air mic pointed towards Bakugou and wiggling your eyebrows around when you say pro-hero. On your right, Denki starts cackling at hearing the full name and smacks your back just a touch too hard. You’re wheezing and shoving him out of the booth when you hear Bakugou say “Great.”
A couple of hours ago, the legendary class of 1-A graduated. Now they’re all shoved in a ramen shop that definitely isn’t meant to have this many people. They had all been coming to your dad’s place since their first year even after it was destroyed that same year. You don’t know much about what happened then honestly, you didn’t come to Japan from your tiny out-of-the-loop town until you were most of the way through your second year, but you can find it in their faces sometimes. Plus you can see how the paparazzi treat the class, how fanatics forget they’re people.
You make it your secret hero mission to have a place that they can come– and they eat here fairly often– where they can come and be whatever. The hero class if they want, you wait for them to give you a sign that they want to talk about recent hero-related achievements. But they usually come to the small place to just be.
You can feel Bakugou’s red eyes on you and Denki, it makes a weird feeling stir in your spine. You’re not sure why he’s still looking. He’s been doing that more than usual.
(A wet winter night forces its way to the front of your brain, but you push the thought down as quickly as it appears. Too cold. Too damp. Too dark for today.)
The sun is setting when the former UA students start shuffling out of the ramen shop. Teary hugs with the friends you made from the school, promises of seeing each other later. You know they mean it with their whole heart, but you doubt hero work will give them enough downtime to spend with some civilian in a tiny place they frequented in high school. Still, you smile and hold each promise with trusting hands, letting the feeling drop lead weights into your chest.
Mina’s hand is sliding off of your lower back when you notice Bakugou hasn’t moved from where he was standing next to the table. Maybe he left something? You don’t remember him bringing anything. The bell above the front door jingles as the last students leave, leaving him plus a couple of businessmen over by the tv.
“I’m leaving.”
You turn to him with a confused smile and laugh, “Well I’d hope so, can’t stay here for the night.” He doesn’t laugh. Bakugou just looks at you. His warm stare always makes you feel like he’s peeling layers off of you, leaving just the soft pulp out. You haven’t decided how you feel about that yet.
“No,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, “I’m going to America.” You feel your face tighten.
“Ah, that’s-” What is it. Why is he telling you? You probably would have found out through Sero or something. So why are you standing less than half of a metre away from Bakugou while he tells you he’s leaving the country. You can see his hands flexing in his pockets, how he’s rocking from heel to toe, and how he’s keeping his eyes on your face. The weird feeling in your spine is back. “That’s exciting!” you smile again. He only leans back a little and squints down at you, corners of his mouth pointed downwards.
“That all?” You tilt your head up at him, what else are you supposed to say? Does he want you to say something else? You don’t know. You don’t know what to say. (You don’t know what to say to him.)
The tight smile is faltering and the weight in your chest is making you feel heavy. You lower yourself into the booth. He sits across from you. “How long?” you ask. You don’t think Bakugou thinks you’re close, but he’s recently been a quiet comfort. Bakugou’s regular lack of response was a little off-putting at first but lately, they kinda remind you of the kind of silence you get around a campfire, the pause where everyone takes a moment to look at the stars.
“At least a year and a half.” He sighs and rests his chin against his palm, “They fuckin- They- You-” You give a blank stare in response, confused at what he’s trying to say. Bakugou grimaces at himself then continues, “They care. About you. And they do wanna see you. And they’re going to try.” The words are sweet, but it looks like someone is ripping them out of his stomach.
“Thanks?”
He furrows his eyebrows at you and sighs again. This talk is taking a lot of wind out of him. He crosses his arms, “I could just fuckin’ hear how sad your dumb thoughts were getting when all of the extras were leaving.”
“I don’t know if I’d call th-”
Bakugou looks away for a moment before cutting you off, “The thoughts are dumb because they aren’t true.” Oh. “You don’t suck to be around,” a compliment you assume, “And you’re not lame, so don’t have lame thoughts.” You scrunch your face up and try not to laugh (or cry).
“Lame?” You ask, he folds his arms tighter around him and starts to glower at you as his life depended on it. “Are you sure you graduated high school? Not middle school?” You laugh, bringing a hand up to your mouth to hold back from fully smiling.
“I am trying to f-”
“I’m kidding,” you watch the building frustration slowly melt out of him, puffed out chest moving back, “Thank you Bakugou. Mean it.” He finally rolls his eyes, his forearms moving to rest on the table.
“Whatever.”
You stand up suddenly and his red irises dart up to you, clearly confused but you’ve already set a plan in motion. Bakugou’s eyes are slowly widening and he’s leaning towards you even though he keeps clenching his hands then rubbing them on his slacks.
To catch him off guard you lunge towards him with open arms and hug him as tight as you can, his arms stuck to his sides.
(You did notice him look down at your lips twice, but he was probably figuring out the easiest way to push your face away if you pulled anything unsavory.)
“I’m going to miss you too, won’t have a metro buddy,” you rumble into his shirt, feeling his fast heartbeat against your forehead.
He clicks his tongue and groans above you. “Just- Just be safe while I’m gone alright? Don’t be stupid.”
A tear soaks into the cloth of his button-up, “I promise. You too. Promise.”
“I promise.”
vīgintī ūnus, aestas
(21) An obnoxious attempt at a tune in the form of knocks erupts from Bakugou’s front door. Who the hell is at his apartment on a Wednesday night? Christ.
You, apparently.
He rubs an oil-covered hand on his forehead as you draw out the vowels of his name, “Bakugou!” He’s busy. His car isn’t in the garage so maybe you don’t know for sure if he’s home. There’s a silence and he thinks for a moment that you’ve left, then the door creaks from you leaning on it.
“I brought you your special.” That’s a compelling offer.
Bakugou isn’t nervous to see you alone. No, that would imply he’s been staying up much later than accustomed to thinking about your laugh and your face pressed against his heart hugging him goodbye for two and a half years. That he almost cried when he saw your smile mixed in with the people greeting him when he came back. That in his head he still hasn’t forgiven himself. That he has no idea how to act around you anymore. Bakugou hasn’t been holding off on a one-on-one reunion with you. He’s just been, busy.
You call through the door, “Hello?”
He presses his face hard against the wood before responding. “Extra pepper flakes?”
“Aha! Hello, yes!” Bakugou hears you do a weird laugh, “With even more spicy sh-”
He flings the door open before you can finish. You stumble over yourself from the violent action before swinging the bag of food away from him. Once you steady yourself, you point an accusing finger in his confused face. The fuck are you doing. He thinks about slamming the door.
You smile and wave before masking your face in faux seriousness and pointing at him again.
“Let me in or no food.”
The two of you hold eye contact for a couple of seconds before you break it to take in his state. Bakugou frowns a little more when he watches your face turn to one of fake surprise.
“Oh my god!” you gasp with wide eyes.
His hand tightens around the doorknob. “Fuck is your pro-“
You gesture towards his chest. “Is that a two day old shirt?”
Never mind, he doesn’t want you in his apartment.
“Go wash your hands, you’re covered in gauntlet juice.”
He shoots you a dirty look that you pretend not to notice. How you got into his kitchen is lost on him. You continue to arrange the containers and grab bowls, listening to him walk towards the bathroom and mutter about telling him what to do in his own home. Bakugou comes back to the table with a damp face and a new shirt. He watches you tap around on your phone, face changing when you type something new.
Chopsticks holding one slowly escaping noodle in your right hand, your left clumsily holding onto that brick of a phone case Bakugou sent you after you got a piece of broken phone screen stuck in your thumb. You speak before he can, “Just sit down and eat, I’ll be done in a sec.” He takes a deep breath, he can be normal around you. He’s organized his feelings.
Katsuki eats quietly for a few minutes, hunched over the table, at first thinking about the graveyard patrol shift he has later, thoughts slowly dissolving into whether or not he left a sock in his gym locker. Between bites and thoughts of missing articles, he does take in you. The haphazard eating, the hair that consistently almost falls into your food, whispering to yourself what you say before you type, and you looking at him when he’s facing his ramen.
You toss your phone on the table, bringing his attention up to your smiling face. He squints at you.
“What.” He spits, bringing the spoon away from his face. You snort.
“I can’t just smile at a friend?” you ask, swirling your udon around its bowl.
He looks back down at his food and pops a fishcake in his cheek, “No.”
You laugh and though the broth is still in his spoon, a warmth spreads through his chest. What the fuck. He shoves more ramen in his mouth to shoo away the feeling. Maybe you poisoned him.
Fixing his chopsticks to the edge of the bowl, he sits straighter and makes a decision. He doesn’t know if his heart will survive, but he wants to hear it at least once before he dies, “You know you can cut it out with the Bakugou.”
You stare up at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth, “What else am I supposed to call you?” You say between bites.
His hand clenches underneath the table and he almost hits himself for being nervous about this, “Katsuki.”
Your eyes widen slightly and drop down to your soup before peeking up at him again. After swallowing you smile and give him a thumb up, food in the side of your mouth, “Sounds good, Katsuki.”
It’s past midnight when he hears you start to pack up your things. Two and a half movies ago you wrestled him onto the couch talking about how you wanted to watch some dumb series. Bakugou fell asleep in the first ten minutes of the second movie.
He dreamt about you in a flower-covered field. You kissed his hands and scattered petals in his hair. You spoke of elves and long battles. You also talked about how he might call you stupid but you have eyes and anyone can see that he needs to take a break, not even a vacation but to just sit down and breathe. How you want to see him cry from laughter just once because it's been so long since the last time. You missed him.
He feels you pull a blanket further up his body and pat his head twice. “Nighty night Dynamight.” You shut the door softly behind you.
undevīgintī, autumnus
(19) Bakugou stopped answering your messages. That’s subjective. If you don’t consider a one-word reply after days of no response as answering, then he hasn’t replied to you in a while. You knew it was going to happen, even if he didn’t go off to America. You’re sure it’s not a you thing, but a tiny part of you wonders if it is. If something about you drove him away.
It would be harder to not drift apart, the larger parts of you reason; hero work takes your time, your mind, and your body. Bakugou is a great hero, wants to be an even better one. And Bakugou puts his whole heart into what he wants.
When he first started responding less, you imagined him on a secret mission, filled with espionage and secret identities. That’s why he couldn't answer. He’s not. Kirishima told you he’s just getting experience in another country, that an American agency practically begged the explosion hero to join. You think Bakugou added the begging part.
You thought your conversations with him were nice. Something to look forward to. You were sure you got closer to the grump when he was on the other side of the world. It started with just texting him every time you hopped on the metro, just to steal some of his spare safety. You don’t know when it happened, but one day you realized that Bakugou provided you a comfort that you didn’t get from your new four walls in Yokohama.
Bakugou was the first person you’d message when something exciting happened. He’d tell you about his patrol, a picture or two of the pets he saw. If he was feeling generous, he’d send you a picture of what he had cooked, maybe even attach a recipe. Sometimes he’d add little personal notes to the recipe or call you so you could get it perfectly. You’d both greet each other good morning and goodnight no matter what time it was. And now he doesn’t even have the grace to have read receipts on.
Throwing your phone onto your bed, you let yourself melt into the floor. You imagine the hardwood bubbling up and creeping its way over your skin, slowly bringing you into its hold. But it’s not, and you’re laying on the uncomfortable floor while your friends are out there every day doing something. Even if they’re not big heroes. It’s something. They’re something.
Red and brown leaves float through the air and tap your second-story windows. The shadows laying across the wall parallel to your windows let you know the sun is about to set. Mina invited you to a get-together, “Everyone’s gonna be there!” she sent. You’re not a hero. You’re not even support.
You feel like your old friends can smell your melancholy in the water like sharks. Well-intentioned sharks. The past month they’ve been very particular about getting you out when you only have the energy to burrow further into your bed. It makes you feel pathetic knowing that they’re accomplishing things in their lives and you’re some sad shape moving through days. You feel like a leech, you can’t think of something you bring to the table.
A text rings off of your phone.
It’s Mina again. “I’m outside!”
You find yourself in a bar with your forehead on the tacky wood, five empty shot glasses in front of you, and a hollow burn in your throat. They didn’t have as much of an effect on you as they clearly did on your friends. At most, you can feel a small floaty feeling in your bones, small puffs of helium in your joints.
People from the former classes of 1A and 1B are making their rounds around the place, occasionally making small talk with you before it dwindles and they get swept into something bigger (better too.)
You feel lost, like an alien on another planet. They’re not even talking about hero shit anymore and you can barely understand them. It’s like you’ve forgotten how to talk, tripping over simple conversation and giving weird grimaces when people smile at you. You shouldn’t have come, you have no idea what’s wrong with you.
Pushing yen towards the bartender you start to stand up, then two hands plop you back into your chair. Looking at your shoulders, you see one pink one and one with black chipped nail polish. “Where are you going?” Mina pouts on your right, face squished against yours and a nose-burning mix of drinks radiating from her mouth.
“I haven’t even shown you my new dance moves,” Denki squishes his cheek against your other cheek, “They’re pretty sexy.” If you weren’t so set on sitting on the floor of your shower once you got home you might have gone dancing with him.
Rubbing both of their cheeks you sigh and stare at your phone on the bar top, “I’m tired, I had a really good time though.” Denki whines and Mina falls to your lap, your hands still on their heads. The bar is lukewarm and you think the dancefloor would cook you right now. You’re tired, you smell like other people’s sweat, and you can’t remember the last time you drank water today.
You press harder against Denki and pinch Mina’s cheek, pushing their eyes away from your face, “One more.”
One more becomes the bar on its side and the two of them on the dance floor. The world moves like half-melted jell-o and your face is wet. You think you spilled something on yourself or you were crying. It’s so hot in this bar. You wish you were home.
Sliding off of the bar stool, you set your eyes on the front door. If you don’t let the lights distract you, you think you can make it. Something gets into your eye and you squeeze your eyes shut to get it out, when you open your eyes again, you’re outside. The midnight autumn air on your sweaty skin takes some of the spin away from your vision. You feel dirty all the way to your bones and you can’t even recognize how you smell. You want home.
Grabbing at yourself until your phone ends up in your hand, you tap around to call home. You hope he picks up.
A gravelly voice picks up after three rings, a tired tone asking your name. It sounds prettier than the stars you could’ve seen from here if there wasn’t light pollution.
“Hi Bakugou,” you reply in a small voice. There’s a silence, you weren’t expecting anything out of this. You thought you’d air your heart out to voicemail. The rhythmic, methodical sound of beeps in the background sobers you. “Are you- are you in the hospital?”
“Ah yeah,” you can hear rustling, the creaking of his hospital bed, “Why’re you awake?”
“I’m sorry,” you blurt instead of answering. He goes to ask what you’re talking about and earlier today you would have shut up to hear his voice, but the liquid burning down your throat and sitting in your gut urges you to speak. “I know I’m a lot, I didn’t mean to be so much. I just,” water hits your collar bone but when you look around it isn’t raining, “I think I got so comfortable with you. I thought you were too. You’re really- I really-” You hiccup and all you can hear is Bakugou’s breathing and the fast beeps of the monitor.
He says your name again and you remember you were talking about something, “I really like having you in my life, you’re important to me. If you come back I promise I’ll be less this time.”
A sigh replies, he’s finally had enough of you. Should you hang up to beat him to it? “’M sorry,” he says.
“What?” It’s your fault, why is he apologizing?
Bakugou cough-laughs into the mic and the sound makes you wince, “I was bein’ awful to you and you’re saying sorry? Thought you promised not to be stupid.” The night streets in front of you get blurry the more he speaks, “Never promise someone you’ll be less, tiny. That’s a bad fuckin’ deal. Be all of you all of the goddamn time. I was bein’ an ass n’ it’s not your fault.”
“But,” you argue.
“No ‘buts.’”
You wipe your face and nod, “Okay.”
He tells you about his time in the hospital, the earth-shaking villain that got him in there, and the “goddamn yeehawin’” patrol partner. You slowly sober up outside, a group of girls having come by and gave you a water bottle from one of their purses because “bad bitches stay hydrated.” Bakugou doesn’t mention why he started ignoring you, but he repeated that he’s sorry. That the dinners he made aren’t worth mentioning and didn’t even taste like anything without your shared input on it. He says you have him back now, and you couldn’t get rid of him if you tried.
“Promise?” You ask, holding a pinky up to the night air.
“Cross my heart, peach.” His voice quiets as tests the new name on his tongue.
“Peach?”
“Trying something, ya hate it, runt?”
New tears fall as you laugh and sniffle into the phone, “It’s sweet. Better than runt.”
You wake up the next day with your stomach ready to kill you and a good morning text on your phone.
septendecim, hiems
(17) God, he’s glad he got the fuck out of that stuffy ass room. Bakugou felt like his life was being drained the longer he spent with his parents' friends' New Years’ Party. He never even wanted to go in the first place.
His loafers sink into the crisp snow, biting winter air swirling around his ankles and over his nose, gloved hands shoved tightly into his pockets. So fuckin cold. In a rush, he forgot to grab his hat, fresh snowflakes being dusted into his spikes and melting the closer they were to his scalp.
When Bakugou heard they needed more ice, he slipped out with a yell as quickly as he could, ignoring them saying that they had an ice machine in their freezer. Ahead the humming glow of a konbini’s neon lights lay flashing red and blue onto the surrounding snow. The sensor above the door chimes as he walks in, tapping his shoes off before the attendant can greet him.
In his head he looks a little stupid, scarf pulled halfway up his reddened face from the cold, insulated jacket making him brush against every item he passes by, and loafers. Making his way to the glass doors in the back, the sensor rings again. He can hear their teeth chattering from the other side of the store. Pussy.
The attendant greets the person while he’s looking at the different brands, spending as much time as possible to not be in the stuffy house. When the customer responds Bakugou freezes and squints at the ice. He knows that voice. You, old man’s kid from the ramen spot. He’s seen you around when the idiots drag him to shit on weekends. The hell are you doing here? Your shop’s on the other side of town. If you recognize him, he might ask.
Turning around, the ice bags in hand Bakugou feels something run directly into his chest, then the sound of falling bags and plastic. He realizes it’s you when you squeak and duck down to pick your goods. You look up to apologize and he watches the slow recognition in your eyes as you remember who he is.
“Oh! Explosion Murder, right?” Your hand is hovering over another bag and Bakugou frowns at your shorthand version of his hero name. At least say the whole thing.
You don’t have a basket and the snacks keep falling out of your arms when you go to pick up the already fallen snacks, creating a crinkly, annoying cycle. He grabs the ones already on the ground in his free hand, “Bakugou. Why are you here tiny?”
“Wha- Ti- Why am I here?” You frown up at him, he finds a specific pleasure in this reaction, “I’m here for this.” You hold up one of the bags in your hold, the labeling isn’t in kanji. “This is like, the only konbini in Japan that has this, used to have it all the time at home.”
“Huh.”
You laugh over your shoulder as you start walking back towards the front, “Yeah.”
He forgot you were a foreigner. Do you miss it? You haven’t been here for that long if he remembers right, what was it like back home for you? Do you not consider your house in Japan home yet? You have your dad here. Bakugou has only known Japan, having lived in Musutafu his whole life. He wonders how long it takes to make a place home. What makes it change.
“I might have a quirk Bakugou, but it sure as hell isn’t mind-reading.” Fuck he was just staring at the bags in his arms. The ice bag’s condensation drips onto the linoleum. You laugh when he finally realizes that there’s a small puddle creeping towards his shoe.
He grabs new ice bags and walks briskly past you towards the register, “Fuck off.”
“On it.”
While the cashier checks out your snacks, Bakugou glances at you looking for your wallet in your pockets. Your puffy jacket won’t let you bring your arms completely to your sides, melting snow in your hair, your earmuffs somewhat crooked on your head, sweatpants haphazardly stuffed into snow boots. “What’s home like?”
He didn’t expect himself to ask and evidently neither did you. You pause and look up at him, when he bares his teeth in response you grin and start looking for your wallet again. “It’s… nice. I miss it some days. Japan’s nice too,” you snap gloved fingers when you find your wallet, “There’s just something about home though ya know?”
He guesses. Bakugou shrugs, tossing your food into a reusable grocery bag he keeps in his pockets. He puts his ice bags on the counter, still holding your groceries, “‘ve only lived here,” he hands the cashier more yen than necessary, nodding when they say Happy New Year, “What else?”
When you push the front door open, you look back at him. “What else?” you repeat with a furrowed brow.
“Yeah, what else-” he pushes your back forward, “Don't look at me like that I just don’t want to go back to my parents' shitty party.”
“Oh,” you smile at him and he feels a little sweat cover his body, “well if you insist.”
He listens to you talk about your family and life back home until your path to the metro branches off from his. You told him “see you next year!” and it took everything in Bakugou not to throw the ice at you.
The walk back to the penthouse feels colder than before. Did the temperature drop while he was out? A deeper cold sets into Bakugou that he can’t shake, nudging his face deeper into his scarf and jogging towards the party. He still has a cold feeling in his stomach when he steps into the heated air of the lobby, the warm elevator, even in front of the door at the penthouse. Mitsuki buzzes him in and is in the middle of asking “what took you so damn lo-” before he cuts her off.
“I forgot something,” Bakugou says quickly and drops the ice bags on the welcome mat, and runs back to the elevators. The lift isn’t going fast enough when he’s going down, thumb repeatedly jamming into the lobby button. He doesn’t know why he’s going back, but something in his bones feels off. If he’s wrong and your stupid face is on that shitty train, then he’s wrong. But something in him just needs to check.
Running in loafers on snow-covered cement isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but he’s about to be a pro hero, if he can’t do this he should drop out of the class. Bakugou thought the running would warm his hands enough to make him sweat, but there’s not nearly as much as he hoped there would be. The cold is biting and it’s making his eyes water, the front of his hair is starting to be weighed down by snow and his nose feels like it’s about to fall off. God he hates you right now, he can’t tell if he’d rather you be in danger so he didn’t run for nothing, or you safe and on the train.
He spots the lights of the raised platform and guns harder. His hand is on the railing of the stairs when he hears a scuffle and a cut-off scream nearby. Bakugou whips around and bolts towards where he heard the noise– an alley right next to the station.
When he gets to the opening his heart freezes in his chest. His heartbeats are ringing throughout his entire body, everything feels so loud and so quiet at once. Dirty snow and your dumb snacks that you needed to get so late at night cover the ground. Someone’s standing over you, holding you up by the collar of your shirt with a knife at your neck. He can’t hear what they’re saying but he can see you crying. That sight wakes his body up.
You don’t see him when he lunges towards the knife, elbow pointed towards the fucker’s face. It’s a messy fight after that, his brain hazy from the cold and the adrenaline. He knows he can barely use his quirk, just him against some shit for brains villain. The fight isn’t fluid in his mind, only meeting him at certain moments. He’s on the ground, then he’s standing over them, feeling the slice of a blade in his side. Bakugou hears you fall with a groan into some trash bags when his fist makes contact with their ribs. They pull another knife out right before he knocks them the fuck out, knicking his cheek before they go down. He turns back to check on you, shaking and covered in fresh snow.
He doesn’t know what to do now, mind filled with snow and ice. You look up at him with a tear-covered face and a busted wobbling bottom lip. “How-” he starts, and you rush up from the ground and dart towards him. Bakugou’s arms hang loosely at his sides as you wrap yourself around his torso, shivering against him.
What happened? He has so many questions, instead of asking he rests his arms on your shoulders as you both slowly crumble towards the ground. Your face is tucked against his scarf and he can hear you whispering thank you repeatedly into the fabric. Sitting next to each other on the bagged waste, you hold him so tightly he can barely breathe. As the adrenaline from the fight starts to wear off, he can feel his body. His left glove is missing and his hand is bleeding (probably his right as well), he thinks he at least bruised a few ribs, his back is wet from getting kicked onto the ground. He keeps thinking about how the shitbag didn’t have a quirk. Bakugou doesn’t know what he would’ve done if they did. He knows he’d find a way to win.
The shitbag. His eyes shoot over; still knocked out, okay. A belated thought about arresting them ambles through his mind. Hot blood runs down his cheek as he fumbles around his pocket looking for his phone. When he takes it out, there is an uncountable amount of missed calls from his parents. It’s 23:49. How long has he been out here. Blood and snow smear on his phone as he clumsily taps his thumb around to call the police.
While the phone is connecting to the line he looks down at you. God, you look fucking freezing. He wraps his sore arm as best he can around you. He should’ve just walked with you to the dumb fucking station. How long were you hoping someone would come by? When you cough he looks back at you, fuck why is it taking so long to connect, and you open your mouth to speak.
“I-I’m sorry,” your teeth chatter through every word, tears welling up in your eyes again.
“Don’t b- It’s not your fault they’re a piece of shit. You shouldn’t have come out here, you should’ve just fuckin’ waited.” He knows he’s speaking meaner than he intends to but he’s so fucking cold and he almost got his ass handed to him by some giant crook.
“I’m-”
Bakugou’s eyes cut down to yours, phone pressed steadily against his ear, “Don’t you dare say sorry again. You don’t have to give me that crap just fucking promise not to be stupid.”
Your bottom lip stops shaking as much when you pause to look at him, the space between your brows creased. “Not stupid?” you blink and lick the blood off of your bottom lip, “I ah, I promise.”
“Holdin ya’ to it.” Bakugou glares at the wall parallel to him as he hears someone pick up the phone, immediately barking the address before they can say hello. He has to repeat it and he feels your tight hold loosen. For a moment part of him thinks you’ve died even though he’s the one that got stabbed, but he calms when he hears your steadier breathing. One glance tells him that you’re less afraid now, eyes no longer glossy and petrified.
When the dispatcher tells him services are on the way, his arm falls and he lets himself groan into the freezing night air. Frosty puffs of air leave both of you, all adrenaline gone now, left with injuries and a knocked-out villain a couple feet away from you. Waiting in the cold winter air.
Fireworks pop from all around, jolting both of you out of the icy daze that had settled over you before noticing the colorful bursts of light filling the sky. Bakugou sinks back into the wall, eyes squeezed shut. He feels you shift a little closer to him, your face moving further into his scarf.
“Happy New Year’s Bakugou,” you mutter against him, voice muffled. The moment the words leave your mouth and meet his neck, the events of the night finally fall on Bakugou. It started with his shoulders shaking, building to him laughing the hardest he thinks he ever has, even harder when your confused eyes peek out of the scarf. His side hurts, his cheeks are sore, and in the back of his mind, he can feel you brushing his tears off of his face. What a crap New Years’.
“Shit,” he wheezes,“-yeah. Happy New Year’s tiny.” Kneeing your leg when you pinch him, eyelids heavy with the lullaby of your breathing and approaching sirens.
duodēvīgintī, vernus (I)
(18) Confetti and tinsel fall into your hair as the last “explosion” of Bakugou’s birthday goes off. His unofficial official Bakusquad arranged a celebration at the top of a small mountain. A short hike that wouldn’t be too tiring (Mina didn’t want you to pass out in the middle of a hike meant for a hero class). People spent the entire party trying to smack their party hats onto the birthday boy, trying to get eighteen of the cones onto him. Somehow they got him to agree not to blast any of them away during their attempts, Denki said something about a bet, but the almost-smile on Bakugou’s face tells you he probably would have let them anyway.
When the air starts to chill, everyone begins packing up and cleaning the debris from the explosions. Mina announced with a proud grin that the confetti was biodegradable, but when Tsu asked about the tinsel her face fell and she shooed her girlfriend away.
The thin pieces of shiny plastic weren’t cleaned off of the surrounding area until sunset, more than half of the attendees left already. By the time the rest of you reached the bottom of the trail, it was dusk. A sweet-smelling breeze drifting through branches, soft laughs of your friends behind you.
Ochako and Tsu are the first to leave from the remaining group, they offered you a ride home but you didn’t want to interrupt their date night. You stand to the side from everyone else while they talk about their different plans, everyone drawing out their goodbyes.
You told your dad you would just ride the metro home after Bakugou’s birthday, you assumed cleaning up would be done before sundown. It’s been a few months since it happened, but sometimes when a certain gust of wind would find its way into your chest, you’d feel that same freeze you felt in December. You like to think you’d handle things differently now, but you also thought that wouldn’t have happened to you in the first place.
Tightly gripping your phone and pepper spray in each pocket, you take a step towards the station.
“Hey!” You?
Looking back towards the group, Bakugou’s jogging towards you, tearing the multiple birthday hats off of him. “Stop fuckin laughin,” he grunts as the last cone’s string slaps his skin. He stops when he’s next to you, an expectant look in his eye.
“What,” you glance back towards your friends, all huddled and pretending they’re not looking at you.
He brings his hand to your back, a stiff index finger jabbing into your spine, “Get a move on runt,” sneering down at you when you yelp and smack his hand away, “You’re g’nna miss your damn train.”
You pinch his hand as he retracts it, “I was getting a move on, but you stopped me.” You turn back towards the sidewalk and notice Bakugou is walking in step with you. You look up at him, he’s canvassing the streets with his eyes, hands in his pockets, “What are you doing?”
“Fuck does it look like I’m doing?”
Tugging on your finger, you stare hard at the sidewalk ahead of you, “You don’t- hm. You don’t have to do that- this anymore, I’m good now.” For the past three and a half months Bakugou has been walking with you to the station whenever he’s around. You never asked him to, but it helps ease the fear more than anything. Today’s his birthday though and you don’t want him to feel like he has to protect you, especially today.
“This?” His steps slow, and you can feel him looking at you.
Twisting one of your rings around you nod, “Yeah, this. Like walking me. You don’t have to,” you pause and look up at him before looking at a streetlamp, “feel guilty I guess? You can just do whatever you want to do. Be free, Willy.” As you finish, Bakugou stops and faces you, an almost blank expression on his face.
He’s under the streetlight now, shadows and deep yellows carving precise lines into his face. Did he always look like this? Did he always look so— pretty? You stare into each other's eyes for a beat before he scoffs and flicks your forehead, continuing towards the station.
You trip over your feet to catch up to him, stumbling into pace with him. “Hey! I just said be free. Go do some birthday stuff,” you say as you elbow his arm.
“I woke up late, didn’t have enough time to do a morning run.” He shoves his hands deeper into his pockets, his opened button up fluttering around with the wind.
“What?”
“Walking to the station,” Bakugou side-eyes you, “Cause I couldn’t do it this morning.”
You stare as hard as you can into the side of his face, “To replace an eight k run,” he frowns the tiniest bit and you sense he probably does more than eight k, “You’re taking a five-minute walk?”
“You got a problem with that?” he bites, but the intentioned harsh tone only results in a blooming smile from you.
“No,” you turn towards the sidewalk again, hiding your face.
“Good.” He bumps into you, “Not getting on that stink ass train though.”
undevīgintī, aestas
(19) Bakugou thinks he might be sick. His stomach’s been swimming for months, no actual symptoms yet, just filled with knots. In his chest, he has this ache. The physician at the agency said nothing’s wrong, probably just a little homesick. But it doesn’t feel like he just wants to go back to Japan. The feeling reminds him of you describing how you felt about your home. A little different though, he feels like he left something there. He doesn’t know what.
“Hot out, ain't it Dynamight?” A voice breaks him out of his thoughts, shaking him back into his patrolling body.
It’s nearing the end of summer, air thick and humid. He’s grateful on behalf of his quirk, but every other part of him wants to lay like a dead fish in front of an air conditioner. For professionalism’s sake he’s keeping his mask on, but the sweat running down his forehead is soaking it more than he’s comfortable. The support team here found a way for all of the sweat that soaks into his clothes to get moved to his gauntlets, still, his black compression tank top sticks to him like a second skin. He has never regretted his costume decisions until now.
He grunts in response to his patrol partner for the season, Ranger, whose hero name is inspired by some vigilante from the “wild, wild west.” Ranger looks and acts like he was stolen from a black-and-white Western and dropped into modern times. Even sounds like one, his words rounded and bouncy. His costume reminds Bakugou of a fucked up cowboy from the future; to which he doesn’t understand, Ranger’s quirk has nothing to do with cowboys or at least guns.
“Better get a wiggle on, don’t want big man skinnin’ our hides,” He laughs and smacks Bakugou on the back. Ranger taking long strides ahead of him, spurs clinking against the pavement.
Bakugou thinks he needs to practice more English.
At home, freshly showered and basking in the cool of the air conditioning, he’s ready to practice. He flops into the used couch of his apartment, the newest English volume of Aiko’s Love Club in hand. Reading through the pages, he starts to think about what to make for dinner. Last week you said something about trying unadon recipes, but every time you make it something is off. Bakugou hasn’t cooked eel in a bit, maybe he’ll try a recipe tonight. Show you how the best does it.
He thinks this is the volume where Masa finally realizes how she feels about Aiko, she’s been showing classic signs. Masa thinks about Aiko most hours of the day, associates Aiko with almost everything, goes out of her way to impress Aiko even if she “doesn’t actually care,” etc. Bakugou knows the build-up to a confession when he sees it.
He flicks to the next page and finds his predictions correct, Masa is stomping up to Aiko with a determined look in her eye. As she admits how she feels, the emotions raging in her chest, how she can’t get Aiko out of her mind, Bakugou feels his stomach drop lower and lower. Ah, shit.
He hurls the fifteen-dollar manga across his living room.
The nasty feeling in his stomach is worse when he knows the source. He feels warmth spill into his chest and through his veins when he even accidentally thinks of you, quickly turning to ash when he realizes what he’s doing.
Bakugou comes to a point after a week of keeping his same schedule with you and trying to kill the little dove in his chest with pure will. He came to America to be the best and he knows he wouldn’t have welcomed this feeling if he was in Japan. And he decided he’ll do what he does best, be a hero.
He throws himself in an unbearably hot, timeless void of wake up, work, eat, sleep. The only thing that lets him know that time is changing is the scruff growing in on his face where he would usually shave by now. Every day feels the same, dragging slowly but the weeks seem to pass with a blink. Bakugou assumed that if he took you out of his life, he'd think about you less. But he still has your number and he sees every text you send when you send it, his heart picking up when he hears a notification, hoping it's you. To try and ease the ache he’ll shoot a message back that's impossible to build more off of.
You’ve started calling him less– which should’ve made Bakugou feel freer, no more seeing your face pop up on his phone screen (a picture of you making the first recipe he ever sent), no more staring at his phone until your call goes away. But he doesn’t. He can’t tell if he never wants to hear from you again or if he wants to hear your voice until the universe crumbles.
The average patrol with Ranger consisted of many breaks, to no fault of either hero, but Ranger is weirdly popular in this city. Fans stop them every few blocks for a selfie with the American hero featuring a grumpy-looking Dynamight in the background. This time a group stopped the duo, taking longer than a usual stop was.
It’s a quiet day, only stopping a few pick-pockets, not even a small villain. The sounds of honking horns and chittering civilians fill the streets, an empty gap in the noise where there would be a bird or two overhead. As Ranger strikes another pose, Bakugou unlocks his phone. The screen shows the last app he used, opening your thread of messages to each other.
This was the first day you didn’t say good morning to Bakugou. It’s his fault, this is what he wanted. Still, he scrolled through your old texts as he got ready at dawn, eyes prickly. He finds himself a couple of months back thumb stuck on a picture of you at the beach. Your face taking up the left half of the screen, a blinded smile from the sun, Denki and Mina in the back with their usual stupid faces.
“(location: ichigo beach, shima) when u come back i am kidnapping u & taking u here!!! there’s even a trail and the view is incredible! don’t be stupid today :p”
He agrees, the view is incredible.
A hoot startles him from right next to his ear, “Oo! Pretty as a peach,” Ranger tries to expand the picture, but Bakugou swats his hand away, “See why you’re so homesick loverboy.”
“Not fuckin’ homesick,” he mutters, words coming off of his tongue jutted and short, “S’not like that.”
Ranger laughs when he shoves his phone into his pocket with red ears, “Sure goney, long as you’re both happy.”
His words make Bakugou freeze, staring at the pavement ahead of him. Is he happy? Are you? He doesn’t even have an inkling, he hasn’t asked. It’s not your fault that you make him think of warmth and home, and he’s been fighting every interaction with you on the defensive side of a nonexistent battle.
He doesn’t know why he was doing this anymore. He wants to know that you’re happy more than whatever he was trying to do. He thinks he might call you for dinner today.
Before Bakugou can respond, Ranger speaks into his earpiece, nodding towards him to tell him to pay attention to the radio in his ear. He only gets a warning of “-ake quirk,” the ground beneath his feet suddenly cracking and splintering like ice.
Nitroglycerin sweat meeting explosions saves him from the expanding fissure moving through the city, Ranger pulling the moisture from the air to propel him towards him. He presses his cowboy hat harder to his head, grinning at Bakugou, “Time to knock this chucklefuck into a cocked hat,” he hates all of the phrases Ranger uses, he just guesses what he means and hopes he’s right, “Gotta get you back to your pretty thing.”
Bakugou feels a flush rise over his arms and neck, his body heat rising even if the sweltering sun wasn’t beating down on him. Your pretty thing echoes in his head. His. “Shut your mouth,” he bites, already following the crevice in the ground so he doesn’t have to hear whatever Ranger has to say.
The villain was in the middle of the city, letting their quirk slowly build up in the faults all day. They announced it in a dramatic fashion, talking about the ins and outs of their abilities. It wasn’t too hard to work them into a corner.
“Heroes disgust me, the absolute decay of society. Cities are no better, rotting us all, it’s time we all go back from whence we came,” they cough, blood running down the side of their head. Behind them: their freshly made gorge; in front: Dynamight and Ranger.
The hero duo glances at each other for a second to make a plan, not seeing the villain lower their left hand to the broken street. When they look back, things are moving in slow motion and much too fast.
Right hand holding their bleeding middle, left glowing a glaring blue in full contact with the tarmac, the ground starting to ripple like water with them at the epicenter.
Bakugou springs into action quicker than Ranger, racing towards them to separate their hand from the ground. They scream when he blasts himself over them, kicking them into the street, using extra momentum to fly above the valley scraping through the city. The villain had used the last of their energy for the rippling ground, leaving them passed out.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Bakugou pants once standing on steady ground. He closes his eyes as he catches his breath, thoughts of you filling his mind. His pretty thing. A small smile starts to grace his face, dropping when feeling unexpectedly cooler. Large shadows arching over the ground.
“Dynamight!” is the last thing he hears. Ranger rushing towards him and the side of a building much closer than it should be is the last thing he sees. You smiling on the beach is the last thing he thinks of.
vīgintī duo, autumnus
(22) “Where are we going?”
The train shifts back and forth as it barrels down the tracks, you lean further into Bakugou with every sway. “Be patient,” he repeats for the nth time, staring out the window. You thought maybe he’d be tired of you asking by now, but he doesn’t. He’s not tired of you.
An hour ago he called and asked if you were free, you replied that it’s 22:34 on a Thursday, what would you possibly be doing right now, and he said he’d be there in thirty minutes. You heard explosions in the distance fifteen minutes after he hung up. He landed sweaty on your balcony and now you’re on a train to somewhere. The train’s lights are lowered for sleeping passengers, the seat is probably half of its former cushioned glory, and the socks you shoved on are mismatching heights and colors. “Are you kidnapping me?” you ask, leaning against the window, burning the way the train track lights pass over his face into your memory.
Bakugou looks away from the window to meet your gaze, “Yeah, you scared peach?” His eyes run over your face, the way his plush red scarf is stuffed half-heartedly into your hoodie, how the heels of your sneakers are pressed to the insoles instead of you putting them on completely.
You pull your knees to your chest, chin rubbing against the worn fabric of your sweatpants. “Sure, why am I being kidnapped?” You grab his hands while he’s rubbing them together for warmth, placing them underneath your chin, cushioned between your knees and the bulk of your sweatshirt. “‘ts gross that they don’t use the heaters past 20:00,” you sigh, putting your hands under your knees.
His cheeks turn to a soft shade of pink watching you get comfortable and stare up at him with his palms pressed against each other under your face. “There was something I forgot to do on my calendar,” he eventually mutters, “Couldn’t go to sleep.”
You frown to fight your smile, “You’re forcing me on a midnight errand?”
“Something like that.”
You fall asleep for the rest of the hour-long ride, Bakugou leaning his head against yours once your breathing mellowed out.
“Oi, wake up.”
You groan as you blink your eyes open, sleep sitting heavy in your muscles, Bakugou’s hands pushing your knees. You bat his hands away, “Kats’ki knock t’off,” tongue removing unnecessary syllables. He snorts and pushes your face towards the window.
Ichigo beach.
It’s a clear sky, full moon rippling across the shallow waves, barely swaying grass telling you that it’s not a windy night, stars shining down at you. Staring out the window at the night view of the ocean, Bakugou admires your growing smile through your reflection in the glass. He wonders if you can tell he feels love moving through his body every time you smile. That he can feel his heart in his brain when you look at him. When you speak. You might be better off not knowing, he thinks, you would try to give him a heart attack on purpose.
Hopping off of the train into the salty air, your whole body wakes up. Rejuvenated by the sounds of waves washing up on the shore, you stretch and look up at Bakugou. You smile, “What now?”
“Midnight errand,” he says, pressing a warm hand to your back to nudge you forward.
“I know that, but what is it?”
He gives you his meanest smile of the night, you almost trip over your shoes at the sight of it, “Be patient.” The funny feeling races up your spine.
You smack his hand off of your back with a huff, “Fine.” And you follow him.
Walking down the short trail to shore, you let your shoes sink into the sand for a few metres before peeling your shoes and socks off, holding them in one hand. “I’m sorry,” he suddenly says, broad back facing you. The nonexistent eyes of the skull drawing on his hoodie are glaring down at you making your feet shift in the cold sand.
“You gonna throw me in the sea or something?” you joke, unsure of how to respond to the sudden apology.
He stops and you almost run your face square into his back, “Hate that I made you cry. You really forgive me for that?” Bakugou turns around and looks down at you. You’re much closer than you realized, the moon is behind him giving his silhouette a muted white glow. Shadows of his face are unbearably dramatic. “I wouldn’t forgive a dipshit for making you cry,” he finishes, his hands hovering over your arms.
You could laugh, the movement held back by the actual tinges of pain on his face. It’s been three years since he basically ghosted you for a few months, it’s almost impressive the way it has clearly been straining him. He apologized almost bi-monthly over the phone after having drinks with the other sidekicks all the way until he came back. You assumed you both got over it, he never mentioned it after he landed. You can’t remember everything you said. You were nearly blackout drunk on that call, sure there were separate instances where you cried but there’s no way he knows that.
“I forgave you, because you’re you,” you smile and grab his hand, both of yours fitting in his outstretched hand, “Even if you act like a dipshit sometimes.”
His eyes start to get shinier as he squeezes your hands, “That’s so fuckin’ stupid,” he presses his molars against each other, “you’re so fuckin’ stupid for that.”
“I’m so fuckin’ stupid?” You laugh and grab his jaw to relax it, “You’re stupid, what are we doing on the beach in the middle of the night? You’re usually home by now.”
Bakugou’s jaw loosens and he sighs, moving his face closer to yours. You freeze, your heartbeat thumping through your whole body as he presses his forehead to yours. He stares directly into your eyes and he’s all you can see. Soft exhales meeting yours, the waves crashing behind him, your hand in his.
“I am,” he says, “I am home.”
Katsuki lifts his hands to your face, cradling your cheeks, “Can I kiss you?” he whispers.
You nod and as his lips press to yours, you realize there’s nowhere you can think of as home but him.
ichigo for strawb ;P
#why do i keep making bkg read yuri??? because he’s me and i’m him goodnight#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugou katsuki#bnha x reader#tw alcohol#tw violence#this fic is so long help me#matcha writes
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Take Him Seriously
Pro Hero Kirishima x F!Reader
Summary: When your pro hero bf suggests slipping away at the hero gala you don't really take the big guy seriously... he's about to show you why you should.
Very minor BakuDeku and KamiJiroShinso
Warnings: SMUT BELOW THE CUT 18+ Minors DNI! Exhibitionism, Soft Dom, Lots of Praise, Pet Names (Sweets & Baby & Good Girl), Cursing
Word Count: 1,753
Alcohol, as it did with many people, had a way of making Kirishima's lips looser and thoughts flow more freely. You sat across from your boyfriend at the yearly heroes gala, the both of you dressed in your finest. The party was in full swing, awards and dinner had been served and now the drinking and dancing were the primary events.
Although, you and Eijiro opted to take a break. Sinking down into chairs at an empty table. He'd lost his jacket some time ago and you were dying to kick off your heels already.
Somewhere among the smiles and laughter you both shared, he'd leaned back, long legs as thick as tree trunks stretched out wide in front of him and you couldn't help but notice crimson eyes lingering on you as you massaged your aching heels.
"If you wanna get off your feet for a while, I have a few ideas of how we can make that happen."
You actually giggled at the comment. "What?"
It wasn't that Eijiro wasn't capable, he was MORE THAN capable! It's just, he wasn't one to usually voice those desires, he usually just... acted on them. And you knew with a room full of friends and colleges he'd never do so in such a public place.
And yet, "Mhm, wrap those luscious thighs around me and I'll keep you off the ground for a while, whatcha say?" He'd leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees even as you slipped the black strap back in place and stood.
"Sure, Eijiro, whatever you say."
He looked up at you, a pout on his lips, "You're not taking me seriously."
You kissed that adorable lower lip of his, "You're right, I'm not. But, when we get home, I'd love to get all tangled up with you-"
Eijiro grabbed your hand and tugged you back down to eye level, "And what if I don't wanna wait that long?" You were still pretty sure he was full of it, "You should take me more seriously, sweets."
He let your hand fall, brushed his lips against your cheek, and let you wander back out to the dance floor but you could feel his eyes on you the entire time.
An hour had passed. You were busy dancing and catching up with friends you didn't see nearly enough and, honestly, you'd nearly forgotten about what Eijiro had hinted at with everything else that had been going on.
You'd been walking back from the restroom when a door open and someone pulled you inside the small coat closet, though, it didn't take much for you to realize who the someone was.
"Eiji! What the-"
He backed you against the door, lips hot against yours while he fumbled with a folding chair, jamming it up under the handle of the door. "I told you, you should take me more seriously." He kissed down the length of your neck, sharp teeth nipping at your skin harder than usual, and, for a second, you were too caught up in the moment to remind him he had to be careful. That there was an event happening that both of you were supposed to be present at!
"Ei, hey, Eijiro," You managed to gain enough sense to pull his head back to look at him, "Babe, we're very much in public. If you want we can just go h-"
That was the second time his lips had cut you off. "Don't care. I want you, right here, right now." He bunched the fabric of your floor-length gown until he could grab at your legs underneath. "Been wanting to tear this dress off you since we left but I still can't do that so I guess I gotta settle for these instead."
It took him no effort at all to rip open the black pantyhose you'd been wearing, quickly followed by the lacy panties under them. The pupils of his eyes were blown wide, tongue darting out to lick his lips while he teased your folds, his other hand guiding yours to the front of his black pants where he was so painfully hard.
"Please, sweets..."
He knew just how to lure you in. Your hands flew to his belt and shoved his pants and boxers down just enough to free him. Eijiro already had two fingers inside you and his thumb circling your clit.
You wanted to move, to sink down on your knees in front of him and give him what he apparently been thinking about all night long but he pinned you to the wall. "I don't have the patience for that." A third finger slipped inside with ease now, one of your legs hooked in the crook of his arm.
"Eiji." You whined rocking your hips, pushing his calloused fingers deeper until he was reaching your favorite spot making you moan and whimper, all his favorite noises he couldn't get enough of. You fought with his tie and then the buttons of his shirt, eager to claw and leave your mark on him.
"Not fair." The man groaned when you ran nails down the planes of his back. "I gotta behave. You've got all this skin on display..."
"Didn't stop you on my neck."
He finally noticed the little bite marks he'd left behind. "Well, if I've already done that much." You moaned at the contact on your neck again, the opposite side this time. And when he applied that pressure, thrust his fingers in hard and deep, you had to bite your cherry red lip to keep yourself from crying his name as you came around his fingers.
"That's a good girl. Keep nice and quiet for me, okay?" You hadn't even fully came down off your high before Eijiro had you up in his arms, the weeping tip of his cock easing into you.
You reached up and found the empty bar of a rack, hanging onto it for dear life as Eijiro pounded into you, your hips meeting every single time with a harsh smack that you were pretty sure was louder than any of the moans you'd been making.
You were still so damn sensitive. He had your toes curling in seconds with the steady pace he set. Watching his cock quickly vanish inside you and then slowly pull out so you could feel each vein he had to offer, every inch he could give you.
"More, more, please, Eiji." He only smirked at your babbled pleas but gave you exactly what you requested. Picking up the pace and fucked you so damn hard you thought you might go through the wall. "Please, fuck!"
With your legs around his torso and your back braced on the wall, that left one of his hands free to clamp over your noisy mouth and the other to toy with your clit. "You want them to know what we're doin' in here? You're gonna let em know who's fuckin' you this good if you keep that up."
It was no use, you couldn't stay silent while he had you like this, you never could. His fingers dipped inside your mouth, "Suck on these so you'll keep quiet." And you did, maybe even a little too well because now it was Eijiro who was moaning like a horny teenager.
"Fuck you're too good at this. Damn, you look amazing, I told you that, right? So fucking gorgeous."
His praise had you sucking his fingers in harder, hugging his cock tighter, teetering right on that edge once again. "Gonna cum again for me? At this fancy party? My cock all the way in you and my fingers down your throat, ah, yes" He chuckled, "So fuckin' good for me, baby. Keep cumming."
Eijiro slowed his thrusts letting you actually ride out your high this time, letting you muffle your screams by biting his shoulder. You whined pitifully when he pulled out of you entirely, very aware he hadn't cum yet. "Get on your knees for me, please, sweets. Can't go shooting inside you when you got nothing to keep it in..."
You both looked at your torn panties on the floor and realized he had a point.
On your knees, Eijiro popped his fat cock right into your mouth with a sigh. "You're gonna have to swallow all of it, alright? Don't want any getting on your dress, I wanna ruin that later."
It didn't take him long to reach his peak, not with the way you swallowed him, hollowed your cheeks out, and tongued his head. He had his messy fingers wrapped up in your hair, fucking your throat how he pleased.
"Love you so damn much, sweets." Eijiro kept his voice low, muttering practically when you felt the first hot rope shoot down your throat, "Taken' me so fuckin' well, always take me so good, take it all, fuck, Y/N."
You might have damn near choked from all the cum he'd just unloaded but at least none of it ended up on your dress or his pants.
He dropped to his knees in front of you, kissing you tenderly and wiping the tears and mascara off of your cheeks. Eijiro helped you straighten out your dress again and fix your hair as best as it could be.
"Sorry I didn't take you seriously earlier." You chuckled, your throat still a little raw.
"I can't really blame you. I didn't even know if I'd have the courage to go through with it but then I saw you on the dance floor and I couldn't wait anymore."
He scooped up your torn pantyhose and undies, pocketing them both before dropping another quick kiss on your lips and opening the door...
"About fucking time!" Katsuki grumbled, pushing pasted you and Eijiro and going into his coat that had been hanging near where Eijiro had just been railing you.
"Seriously, have you two no shame!" Denki tsked and you half hid behind Eijiro.
The redhead tucked you under his arm with a grin. "You're one to talk. As if we didn't all hear you, Kyoka, and Hitoshi goin' at it in the restroom last year at this thing. Least we kept it mostly quiet."
"Just go out to your damn car like everyone else does! It's not that hard!" Bakugo huffed, tucking his phone into his pocket. "Then people can get to their phones or go to the fucking bathroom and not have to wait for someone to fuckin' get off! Speakin' of which, where's my damn nerd!"
#mha y/n#mha reader insert#mha smut#bnha smut#kirishima smut#eijiro kirishima smut#kirishima#eijiro kirishima#kiri brain rot#sorry not sorry#kirishima x y/n
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[ a father’s love ]
PARING: StepFather! Aizawa x StepDaughter! Reader
SYNOPSIS: Your stepfather took you in with open arms after the death of your mother. Depression gets the better of you and Shouta promises to take care of you. But just how far is he willing to go to see it through?
CW: yandere, pseudo-incest, mentions of stalkers, mentions of death, depression, mental health issues, pregnancy, noncon, somnophilia, bondage, daddy kink, praise kink, afab reader
AN: my first collab with the bnharem server!! the theme was roommates (i ran with the term loosely) read the other member’s takes here! mind the tags as usual and enjoy!! :)
The death of your mother shattered you. A freak accident with a villain attack had her crushed under rubble from a collapsed building. Your stepfather, Shouta, suggested that you move back home with him after her funeral. As tempting as the offer was, you were determined to make it through University and handle yourself like a big girl, an adult ready to take on the world. You had only moved out a few months before her death, independence calling to you after you received your college acceptance letter.
A few months and an eviction notice later, you crawled back to him, the only remnants of your family. Open arms enveloped you, bringing you solace and comfort in your dire time of need. You felt like a child, bundled up in his arms as you sobbed, screaming at the cruelty of the world. Depression hit you hard and deep, flunking you out of your classes and preventing the bills from being paid. You had no other alternative but to accept his offer.
“You time and space to grieve properly, kitty. The most logical thing to do is take a breather.”
Ah, kitty. He always knew that was your favorite nickname, calling you that ever since you were a little girl. He also always knew just what to say. Patting your thigh, he stood up and extended his hand to help you up as well.
“Let’s go step up your room. I'm sure you need a nap after that cry.”
He gave a wrinkly smile before disappearing down the hall.
Skeptical at first, you were unsure if it was the right move to return home. You needed time to figure out what you wanted, what you needed. A break from life would give you a chance to sort things out, right? And Shouta was more than prepared to use this opportunity to show you he would be all that you needed and more.
The man was nothing short of doting and generous. A shoulder to cry on, a good laugh, a friend, a father. He helped you piece your broken soul back together. Whenever he wasn’t patrolling, he was at home with you. When your depression seemed to drown you, Shouta was there to pull you out of the water. He made sure you ate, helped brush your hair when it was matted, and got you into clean clothes daily. It was the small things that he did for you that helped your demeanor change.
—
“Up and at ‘em, kitty. Breakfast is on the table.”
You grunted, burrowing deeper into your bedding. A chuckle reverberated in his throat as he rubbed your lower back soothingly.
“C’mon, I know you haven't been eating lately. Let's get some food in you. I made your favorite.”
—
But as time passed, his help could only do so much. Your mental health continued to dwindle, plummeting into the ground when her first anniversary passed.
—
Gentle strokes of a brush smoothed through your tangled hair. Shouta was kind enough to help you when your head got matted into a rat’s nest, being incredibly tender and gentle with you. Tears streamed down your face, broken hiccups and sobs bubbling from your chest. You were trying to hold it in, he could tell. A sweet kiss was placed on the back of your head as he enveloped you in a comforting embrace, letting his hands sip down to your hips to rub circles in.
“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”
He was the only one that was.
—
The domestic dynamic the two of you fell into hardly felt like one of parent and child, but more as two lovers sharing a home they built together. The pair of you even adopted a new cat together in hopes of cheering you up. You can't say that you disliked it. It felt...nice to have your presence matter when it was a struggle even to be alive. Shouta always checked in on you; whether he sent you an update from work or shared a cat video. He really was the best father anyone could hope for, even when your depression got the worst of you.
Your depression started to manifest itself in many forms. Lately, you’d been having vicious nightmares, only to wake up with an unknown stickiness on your thighs. Recalling the night terrors was something that evaded you, but you knew you were being violated. Perhaps your body wet itself from the fear of the dream? It was the only logical answer you and Shouta could come up with. Depression sure had funny ways of physically manifesting itself. You thought that would be the end of it, putting the situation behind you.
It was until it started happening nightly. The nightmares only seemed to prolong themselves, worsening to the point where you could vividly dream of being assaulted. Your underwear was now soiled too, and it definitely wasn’t your doing. Fearing you had a stalker, Shouta installed brand new locks on your windows and doors, hoping to soothe you. He was a Pro-Hero, so he certainly had the means and know-how to protect you. It put you at some ease, but it continued to the point where your stepfather decided sleeping in the same room would help you feel safer.
It didn't.
The nightmares themselves only seemed to get worse, but Shouta was right there to comfort you as soon as you woke up shouting in a panic. He would take you into his arms and hold you until you fell back asleep. You felt like a child. But he didn't judge you.
After a month of strange behavior, the stress caused you to gain some weight. Visiting a doctor was your best bet to get an answer. He took you to your appointment, letting you hold onto his arm for comfort as his hand rested comfortably on your thigh. The two of you were mistaken for a couple by a nurse. What a strange, intimate relationship the pair of your tangled yourselves in.
The doctor ran some tests and had your blood drawn. The results were to be emailed to you in a few days. Shouta calmed your nerves with a tender kiss to the forehead, reassuring you that everything would work itself out.
The notification for the email came in a few days later while Shouta was at work and you were lounging in the living room. Patience was never your strong suit, so you took his laptop from the coffee table, only to open up to a camera feed. Coming from your room.
The blood in your veins ran cold as you looked into the memory drive of the feed. Maybe he set up a camera to see what was happening during your nightmares? That had to be it; how could you assume the worst of your sweet dad? The only saved footage to be found was him fucking himself deep inside of your sleeping body.
“I see the results are in.”
You nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice. He always had a habit of sneaking up on you.
“What-” You couldn’t find the words to describe your anger. “What the fuck is this!”
Disgust. Rage. Dispair.
Your only family left had turned against you.
“You were upset at the loss of your family, kitty. So I decided to give you a new one.”
He couldn't possibly mean…
“You’re pregnant.”
Bile rose to your throat as you gagged at the mere thought of his words. Pregnant? With your father’s child? His betrayal cut you more profoundly than your mother’s death ever could have. But it couldn't have made more sense—his touches, his comfort, sleeping in your room, the nightmares that plagued you.
“You’re sick!”
You shouted, tears streaming down your face as you continued to pummel insults and nasty spats at him. You lost your voice by the end of your rant, panting and heaving while sweat beaded your brow. He just stood there, taking everything in with a grain of salt.
“I understand, kitty. I really do. I should have been straightforward with my intentions.” He confessed.
The capture weapon around his neck snagged you the second you moved on the couch.
“Let daddy make it up to you. I'll make everything better for my pretty little kitty.”
It secured you to the sofa, keeping your legs spread and your hands behind your torso. On his knees in front of you, Shouta was ready to serve his apology with his tongue. Panties and sweatpants were ripped at the seams before being tossed aside.
He caressed your thigh with a delicate touch, pressing his lips to the other side. A kiss was pressed to your clit before long slow strokes of a hot tongue lavished it in attention. He kneaded your thighs gently all the while, humming as he began to alternate between licking and suckling on your sensitive nub.
Your head thrashed about in your binds as you shouted in protest.
“S-Stop it right now! Get off of me, dad!”
In a desperate plea, you hoped that hearing you call him dad would force him back into reality. Instead, he groaned and took a breath.
“Call me that again, kitty.”
A hot mouth sealed over your wet cunt as he dove his tongue between your folds while sucking with his lips. The pleasure was undeniable; his tongue was too experienced to ignore how his ministrations made you feel. Toes flexing and curling, you cried out of a mix of frustration, disgust, and humiliation as he continued to work at your dripping hole. This pig was getting off on the fact that he was fucking his daughter. It made your soul shatter all over again, the one he worked so hard to rebuild.
You continued to sob, moans now added to the mix, as he worked a finger inside of you. He made a curling motion after plunging in knuckle deep. A pleasured shout broke between your cries.
“I'll take it that’s your sweet spot, pretty girl? Good to know.”
He continued to abuse that spot, slowing down just a touch with his tongue to drag out the ride to the peak. Can't have you coming too fast, now can we? Your moans and whimpers spurred him on even more as he wiggled another finger inside you.
Removing his mouth, he focused on stretching and loosening up your tense body. You were lax when sleeping, so sliding in was a pinch with his size. But now he has to deal with you thrashing and struggling against his bonds. Disgust and pleasure churned together in your gut, feeling the incoming orgasm approaching hard and fast. Shouta felt you clench around his fingers and added a third, using his thumb to swipe your clit back and forth. With a final cry, you came on his fingers with a shout as your body convulsed in the capture weapon. You found what little peace you could in your short-lived post-nut clarity, taking a moment to breathe and center yourself.
Your father gave you no such chance to do so, immediately springing his cock free and rubbing the tip against your clit to gather your wetness. A chuckle sounded in his throat as he watched you twitch even more from the stimulation that was starting to border on being painful.
“Relax, kitty. Being tense won't do you any good.”
He slowly nudged his cock into your hole, groaning as he took his time bottoming out inside you. Praise spilled from his lips as he let you adjust, feeling your pussy clench tight around him. Good girl, good kitty. He shushed your sobs, smoothing the tears off of your face with the pads of his thumb. Murmurs of good girl and taking me so well slipped your senses. The pace he set was slow and deep, letting you feel every agonizing inch of his rather impressive dick.
Your flowing tears were kissed away as he proceeded to thrust faster and deeper. The sound of skin slapping against one another filled the room, even above your now weakened crying and whimpers. Sweat beaded on your brow plastered your hair to your forehead. His breath was warm against your cheek, his moans of pleasure so close to your ear forced you to stay in the moment.
Shouta swallowed your cute noises with a kiss, cupping and stroking your cheek with his right hand while his left pinned your hips down into the cushions. He did his best to stop your tears, pushing the hair off of your sweaty face. A few minutes passed filled with kisses, cries, and deep thrusts before he maneuvered you to be seated in his lap. Back pressed into the cushions, he lazily thrust up into you, hands grabbing your now bouncing ass. His thumb made its way back to your clit as he rubbed it in small circles, grinning at your cries of pleasure that you couldn't hold back. Dark brown eyes fluttered shut as he groaned and moaned proudly, increasing the speed of his thrusts as he felt himself getting closer and closer.
He usually lasted longer while you were sleeping; he does have quite a bit of stamina from his hero work. But something about seeing your flushed, torn face, hearing your whimpers and cries, he can't help but cum rather quickly for his own record. The pleasure was manifesting itself within you again, a second orgasm hitting you like a speeding truck as you gasped and choked for air at its intensity. Shouta was soon to follow, grunting and moaning loudly as he filled your cunt with his spend. He rode out both your orgasms, relishing in the silence between the two of you. It was better than hearing your broken, choked up wails.
It was wrong; he knew that. Breaking your trust, violating you, sabotaging your personal life, he couldn't help but be selfish with you. But he always knew what was best for you, always knew how to take care of you when you couldn't.
Foreheads pressed together, he caught your sagging body against him in a warm hug, stroking your hair when you started to sob uncontrollably.
“Let it out, kitty. I'm here for you.”
#yandere shouta aizawa#yandere shouta aizawa x reader#yandere aizawa#yandere aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa x reader#shouta aizawa#aizawa x reader#aizawa#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero academia#boku no hero academia#mha#bnha#yandere x reader#yandere
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SugarDaddy!Enji X SugarBaby!Male Reader <3
Not entirely sure where this came from, but couldn’t help myself once it started :3 nothing crazy, and kinda short, so apologies for that, but I hope you guys enjoy it! Prompt fills should be out later this month: In the midst of a move, so slow going getting fills, out, but hopefully soon <3 thanks for the patience, and the continued support. Much love to you guys! Enjoy :3
Sugar Daddy!Enji x Sugar Baby!Male Reader
(Sort of, kind of, it is but also not entirely the focus)
“What would you do without me, dad,” Fuyumi sighed, though her smile was palpable, even if Enji couldn’t see it- as she’d stepped behind him to lint roll his dinner jacket. Enji adjusting his watch, and catching the time, puffing his chest up a bit as he shooed his daughter back, and glanced at himself in the full length mirror once more, briefly.
Enji would lie down and accept the sweet, bitter kiss from the grim reaper, before he ever told his daughter just where he’d found his date from. But, and as hard as it was to so much as admit it, Enji did know when to wave the white flag of defeat, and after three hours of trying to pick his own outfit, he’d shuffled off to her room and mumbled the bare minimum about having a date from an app tonight.
Fuyumi had freaked out for all of ten minutes, before growing startlingly serious, and rifling through his closet for articles of clothing Enji had no idea were even there. And now...well, he looked more presentable than he had in ages. Granted, his wardrobe consisted of his hero suit ninety nine percent of the time, but still.
Bidding Fuyumi goodbye was a whole other ordeal, but soon enough, Enji found himself- or rather, his driver, pulling up along the curb of the restaurant he’d asked you to. Not even a moment to gather himself, or suck in a few lungful's of crisp evening air, before his eyes landed on you. Your dazzling smile so bright, Enji had to keep himself from squinting, as you hurried over, and without so much as a hello first, threw your arms over the hero’s broad shoulders, and brought him down into a tight, warm hug.
Enji squeezed back awkwardly, though your cologne was mouthwatering, and the feel of someone wanting to be in his arms almost made the older man dizzy, as he pulled back, and smoothed out the front of his jacket. Just to busy his hands, as you eyed him up, and your smile grew softer. More intimate.
“It’s so nice to meet, finally. In person.” You laughed, gesturing for Enji to follow you to the front door, as there was already a man waiting to escort you back to your table.
Well, Enji thought. Here goes nothing.
“You’re nervous,” you pointed out quietly- gently, reaching across the table to lay one of your hands over Enji’s much larger one: meeting the older man's gaze as he stopped jiggling his leg, and focused his full attention on you.
“Observant,” Enji huffed, though not unkindly, as he took a deep breath, and reached up with his free hand to tug at the neck of his sweater. Cheeks flush, both from the heat within himself, and his nerves.
You were much more...handsome? Pretty? Drop dead gorgeous?- than your profile pictures had given you credit for, and even then you were one of the most beautiful specimens he’d ever laid his eyes on, so that was really saying something.
“I try to be,” you laughed, bringing your other hand around to sip at your champagne, before laying your glass-chilled hand over the other covering Enji’s, to clasp them on either side- just holding his hand, and smiling. Awkwardness creeping back up Enji’s neck as his throat worked around the words he couldn’t quite find.
“I could talk, if you’d like? And you can interject whenever you’d like. No pressure to, if you’re not ready. I could probably talk enough for the both of us.” You we’re trying to cut the man some slack, bless his big confused heart. Your online chats hadn’t divulged much, though you did get the gist from Enji. Bad relationship with his children. Not too close to anyone of his own age. He was lonely. And so were you. You were also broke as fuck, but all thoughts of monetary value flew out the window the second you hugged the man when you’d arrived. Seen the restaurant he’d asked you to; and the private balcony dinner he’d arranged. Enji was trying so hard, and it made your heart beat a little too fast. Your smile almost too bright.
“That...would be preferable, thank you,” Enji replied gruffly- though he cleared his throat after like he’d done it by accident. It only made you smile wider
“Of course. A very considerate daddy you are,” you teased, referencing the website you met on jokingly- or at least, half jokingly- though the way Enji’s blush deepened had you stuttering around your first few sentences- glancing down suddenly as Enji turned his hand palm upward- holding your hands in return, as you laughed, suddenly, and began speaking smoothly. Squeezing the man’s hands in silent thanks, as he listened intently to you rambling on about your life. Where you went to school, what instrument you played, your favorite movies, and books. He really /listened/, grunting every so often to show you he was- and even interjecting with questions every so often; Enji really wanted to know about you. He wanted to listen. You’d never quite had anyone like that before. Not even close friends who cared enough to really listen to you.
Your chest felt tight suddenly as you began touching on your most recent life happenings. Pausing slowly, voice getting quiet as you held Enji’s gaze, you lifted the older man’s hand to press a kiss to his palm. Snickering into it as Enji’s flames burst across his face at the contact. “Ah-Ahem. What uh...what’s that for?” He questioned, voice husky as he turned away slightly. Embarrassed at his flames for the first time since he was a pre-teen.
“Just thanks, for listening,” you admitted with a shrug, kissing his palm again, even softer this time. Enji turned then, pure honesty in his gaze as he gathered his courage to speak clearly, “I could listen to you speak...for hours, if I’m being honest. You have..a lovely voice.”
“Ah,” You nodded, your cheeks just as flushed as the hero’s as you swirled your champagne in its glass gently. Missing completely the way Enji’s face fell, and he withdrew his hands from atop the table, and back into his lap.
The rest of the night went pretty much the same, though you noticed Enji seemed slightly more reserved, and gruff than before. Still just as attentive, still nearly mute, just more...withdrawn. Less open then he’d become as you spoke. It wasn’t until the date had come to an end, and he was escorting you out of the restaurant, and to the car he’d called to take you home, did you realize why.
“Here you go.” Enji spoke quietly, yet clearly, crowding you in slightly so the valet couldn’t see the wad of cash he was holding out to you. Crisp bills neatly folded into a money clip, engraved with Enji’s initials.
“Oh.” You’d almost forgotten by this point that this was sort of part of it. Or...well, it was the whole point, really. Or had been.
“That’s….quite a lot of money,” You thought aloud, frowning at the way Enji’s brows drew down tightly, and he thumped the money into your chest gently.
“I apologize for the evening. Please, just take it. It’s triple the amount we originally spoke of. Compensation for the poor company I’ve been.”
You froze, staring between Enji’s eyes, that wouldn’t meet your own, and the cash being held out to you, Enji’s grip so tight on it his knuckles were white.
/Oh/.
So that’s what he thought. Earlier in the evening, your reaction to his sincerity, he’d read into it wrong.
….Sweet old man.
“Silly daddy,” You sighed, smiling despite the situation- reaching up to tug out one solitary bill from the stack, before pressing Enji’s fist back into his own chest with one hand- the other snaking up and around the man’s neck, to ease him down to your level gently.
“I can’t say I’ve ever had a more wonderful time with anyone before in my whole life. You listened, and saw me. And only me. For hours. I don’t think I can properly describe how absolutely wonderful that was. Truly. Silly,” You laughed again, watching the way Enji’s shoulders hunched, and tensed, a myriad of emotions flitting across his face, before he settled on bewilderment it seemed.
The tiniest flames danced across his cheeks as you leaned up on your toes, brushing noses briefly, before capturing Enji’s lips in a soft, chaste kiss.
Hand carding up and into the soft hair at the nape of Enji’s neck, scraping your nails through his scalp gently as your lips began to move against one another. Unsure, and hesitant, before that quickly melted away, leaving only the deepest desire, and want. A soft, needy noise leaving your mouth, that Enji swallowed up happily. Panting into your face as he pulled away, breath a wash of champagne, and the chocolate cake you’d both had for dessert.
“Tip...for your driver,” You breathed, slightly dazed as you fell back into the car, feet firmly on the ground now- tapping your pocket where you’d slid the bill from the stack he’d held out to you at first.
“I...should get going. But if I don’t have a text from you with the details of our next date when I get home, i’ll be one very disappointed boy,” You admitted quietly, cupping Enji’s cheek briefly- thumb sliding across his plump bottom lip, before you opened the back door of the car, and slid in. Wishing Enji a goodnight, before the door was shut, and you were being driven off towards home.
Enji checked the time briefly as you pulled away, and once more when he finally was able to get his legs working again- nearly an hour had passed, in which he’d tried and failed multiple times to collect himself. Had that really just happened?
The feel of his lips twisting up into a smile felt strange, and foreign for the pro hero. And as he walked home, to allow himself a chance to breathe finally, he began to laugh. Cupping his own face, and touching his lips, an incredulous laugh bubbled from deep within him as he threw his head back and allowed it to overtake him. Smiling in a way he hadn’t in...so, so long.
Pulling his phone out, he immediately began texting you, checking your schedule for the next night, before suggesting going to a play. A quiet, private balcony just for the two of you. Close seats. Beautiful music. He could watch your reactions under the bright stage lights. It sounded fantastic.
A text from Fuyumi chimed into his phone as he was nearly home, and still smiling like a love struck teenager.
So? How was it!?-FT
Enji sighed heavily, catching himself in a nearby shop window- looking too happy to be real, and recalling your words from earlier.
Wonderful.-ET
It was wonderful, Fuyumi.-ET
#bnha x reader#bnha x male reader#bnha x y/n#mha x reader#mha x male reader#mha x y/n#enji todoroki x male reader#enji todoroki x reader#enji todoroki x y/n#endeavor x reader#endeavor x male reader#endeavor x y/n#endeavor#enji todoroki#viciousvixxxen
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𝙸 𝚠𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚖𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚜
𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚊𝚒𝚍, 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚗𝚎 (ﾟ▽ﾟ*)
𝚃𝚘𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚔𝚒 𝚍𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚢 𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚋𝚘𝚍𝚢, 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐. ·̀.̫·́✧
𝚄𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚒𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚌𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖, 𝚝𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊 𝚟𝚒𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚝𝚒𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖𝚜, 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚏𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚜 𝚑𝚒𝚖 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚍𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚜𝚖𝚜. ( و ᐖ )人(ᐛ ╯)
𝙷𝚎 𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚙, 𝚜𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍. ୧((〃•̀ꇴ•〃))૭⁺✧
𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚞𝚝. ﾍ|·∀·|ﾉ*~●
𝙸 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝙸 (ﾟ△ﾟ;ﾉ)ﾉ
𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏, 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚗𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 (⌒.-)＝★
-🧸
I don’t think so, but if someone is, they can come fight me ╰(°益°)╯
Todoroki begging you to stop and acting like he doesn’t want anymore but his stupid smile gives him away, love it (っ˘▽˘) ♡
It’s alright! Sometimes our thoughts get the best of us and words flow just as easily as these sub babe’s cum from their dicks.
Thank you for the reminder! This weekend I can finally rest easy as my midterms are done. You as well, stay fed, hydrated and well rested (っ˘ω˘ς )
Sorry if there are any typos! Take this as a follow up from the previous thirst!
A few weeks ago, you gave Todoroki one of the best fuckings of his life, if a wet carpet, weak boyfriend and broken coffee table wasn’t enough to show.
(And yes, even though you thought the table had survived, apparently it cracked, but thank god it was wood.)
A few days ago, he suddenly became quite touchy. Not even clingy, just liked groping you everywhere, anywhere, rubbing your sensitive spots on your body, pressing his morning wood between your thighs as he whines about how hard he is and how he wants mommy to fuck him.
But he’d leave you high and dry, acting as if he wasn’t begging for a good fuck or suck.
Without much hesitation and very much thought...
In front of you is a handcuffed Todoroki, who’s sporting quite a cute lacy bra on his chest, barely covering his nipples respectively as he trembles through another denied orgasm, mouth opened as airy whines of pleas leave.
His chest slowly steadies with every exhale, his toes uncurling as he tries to calm himself down to not let another dose of disappointment get to him. He had it coming, and this should be seen as revenge with how he’d deny you pleasure. But just that! Why won’t you let him cum?!
“M-mommy, please. Please! H-hah! Mommy-nnngh~”
You press down on vibrator more, moving it side to side to allow the intense vibrations touch him where he’s most sensitive, to drive him back to the brink of his orgasm to then turn it off, deny it, watch him try to blindly chase after the toy that's tied to his dick.
You get bored with how his reactions don’t seem to show any signs of him crying, screaming, weeping, begging. He’s being quite strong, then again it’s punishment, and he knows if he’s a good boy and takes it, he gets a reward.
Pushing him so he’s lying on his right side, you lift his right leg up and over your shoulder, slowly taking off the butt plug that’s been stretching him for a long and slowly push your strap on in.
Now Todoroki’s weeping, a few tears wetting the blindfold as he hisses and moans, feeling the stretch, loving the stretch, needing this stretch.
And without wasting another minute, you untie the vibrator from his dick, but keep his cockring on.
He doesn’t seem to notice, or mind, not with how he’s already rolling his hips to feel you enter and slip out at his tempo, at his need, as his desire.
You move your hips with him, making sure to be slow, letting him get used to the toy before you lose your cool and let go of control, letting your hips do the fucking and mouth do the dirty talk, berating him for touching you in the mornings, for being such a needy slut that he just had to hump your thighs for what, gratification? A sign of dominance?
“N-no mo-ooooh”
Dumb baby, can’t pronounce your name right with how silly he’s slowly getting.
And out of nowhere, completely out of the sky, his orgasm finally numbs his body and senses, ears ringing, mouth salivating, nose closing, eyes covering and touch shocking to the point he can’t even let out a single loud noise, just hectic panting and those cute airy whines.
His drool is dripping to the bed, accumulating as he doesn’t even close his mouth, not with how you keep going and pick up your pace.
A few more rounds in and he’s finally loud, wheezing through every dry orgasm and whiningly moaning ‘mommy’ over and over again with every violent twitch of his poor neglected dick.
He’s been either begging you to take the cock ring off or fuck him harder, as if the way your hips are rolling isn’t enough for him yet.
“Stuh-sto-stuhp! Sto-op!”
He’s panting loudly, the handcuffs rattling with every struggle he made to leave your relentless fucking.
Okay, maybe he doesn’t want you to stop, never wants you to. And you can see he’s lying because your silly baby boy is smiling like a crazed man, so fucked out he can’t apparently feel the way his cheeks must be hurting for smiling so much.
Maybe a bit more and he’ll make his ahegao face, right?
You didn’t have to wait long, not with you uncuffing him, making him grab his pillow for mercy as your hips slam repeatedly against his ass, his screams muffled and hips twitching up and down too fast, makes it look like he’s trying to meet up with you but failing.
And when one of the last dry orgasms is shown through quick tremors, you quickly take off his cockring, flip him on his back and grab onto his dick, stroking it in time with your thrusts.
It doesn’t take long before he finally cums in thick ropes, too many ropes, as his tongue pokes out, drool dripping from his opened mouth, eyes that were looking at you crossing as his eyebrows furrow upwards.
But this orgasm was the most silent one from the rest, not even a small peep of noise coming from him unless you count his shattering exhale, chest rising and falling quick enough to look as if he’d ran for miles and miles, and his eyes are shut, bringing your attention with how red he is, and how much his skin burns.
By the time Todoroki opens his eyes, he’s confused when he sees he’s cleaned, changed, hair clipped back and the sudden change in the sheets’ color.
When he looks to the clock on his side, he wonders if he had dreamt about everything, but if he did, he should feel sticky and sweaty, mostly horny; but he doesn’t.
The time reads 5:31 am.
His eyes widen and he thinks ‘what? No, can’t be!’
Last time he saw it, it read 1:24 am before he-
He giggles as he runs a hand over his face, looking over to your sleeping figure.
How’d you do it?
No, not referring to changing him, cleaning him, changing the sheets; you’re a pro at that.
How’d you fuck him to sleep?!
#🧸 anon#🔥 Todoroki brain rot#✿; impurity#bnha smut#todoroki shoto smut#todoroki smut#mha smut#sub todoroki#sub bnha#ლ; blasphemy#𝖙𝖔𝖉𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖐𝖎.𝖘
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Stranded | JJK | E2L
Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.
›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook
›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst
›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+)
›› Pairing: JJK x Reader
›› Word Count: 13k
›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles.
Warnings Include:
A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug.
Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.
A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!
“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”
You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”
He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”
“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”
Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.
“Please, do it for me.”
You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”
“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”
Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.
Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”
“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.
“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”
You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.
“Are you still with me?” Taehyung asks.
“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”
“Even inviting Jungkook?”
“Anything but that.” It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.
Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”
The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.
“I will consider it.”
“That’s not a no.”
“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”
He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”
“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.
So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.
Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.
Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.
Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.
“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.
He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”
Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.
“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”
He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.
You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”
He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”
“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”
“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”
“I don’t.”
“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.
You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.
He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”
“No,” you grumble.
“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”
You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.
Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”
And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.
“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”
“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”
“It’s October.”
“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”
“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”
A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?
He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”
If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”
“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”
“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.
Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”
You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.
“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”
What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”
He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”
“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”
“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.
You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.
“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.
“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.
‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”
Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”
The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.
Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.
He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.
“Are you gawking at me?” He says, stopping his movements mid-air.
Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”
His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”
“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?” You poke his forehead.
He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”
“I’m listening!”
Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”
Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”
“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.
“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.
“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”
Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”
He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.” Why does this sound so hot when he says it?
God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.” It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.
He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”
“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”
Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.” There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”
You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”
The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.
“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.
Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”
“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”
Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”
“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”
“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.” He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.” Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.
This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.
“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.
Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”
Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”
When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.
“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”
Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”
His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”
You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.
“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.
Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”
You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”
Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”
“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.
Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”
That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.
“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.
Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”
His face changes, eyes wide.
“What are you trying to say?” you press.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”
“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”
All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.
Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.
Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.
Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday
“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge
“Take it or starve. Your choice.”
He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”
“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.
Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.
“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”
“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”
“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.
Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”
“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”
“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”
He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.
“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”
You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.
Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”
He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”
“You study?”
“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”
You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”
Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”
“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”
“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.
You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.
Then, he grins.
You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.
Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”
“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”
Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”
“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”
“What am I now? A villain?”
“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.” You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.
He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.” The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”
“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”
The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.
The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.
Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.
“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”
You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”
He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”
“No.”
“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”
“You would not.”
He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”
In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.
“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”
That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.
Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”
“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”
“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”
You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”
“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”
“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.
He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”
Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”
“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”
In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”
Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.
It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.
Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.
“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”
You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”
Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”
“Huh?! That can’t be right!”
“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”
You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”
“Are you accusing me of lying?”
“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.” You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”
He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”
You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours
“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.
Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”
Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”
Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.
As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.
“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”
Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”
You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.
“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”
“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”
For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”
At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.
“Why are you saying it like that?”
He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”
You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.
“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.
Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.
He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.
Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.
Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.
He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.
Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.
“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”
“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.
You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.
Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.
Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.
You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.
“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.
Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”
Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”
“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”
He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.
When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.
Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.
So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.
You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.
“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”
Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.
You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.
Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.
“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.
He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.
When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.
Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.
Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”
You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.
“Don’t call it that.”
Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”
Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”
“What?”
He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.” Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”
You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.
“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.
He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”
Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.
“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”
You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.
Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.
He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.
The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.
“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”
He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.
You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.
“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.
As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”
You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.
“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.
A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.
He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.
You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.” You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.
“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”
Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.
“You’ve got to be kidding me?” You joke.
He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”
“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.
No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”
You nod. “Just go slow.”
The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.
“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.
“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”
Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.
Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.
Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.
Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.
“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.
He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.
Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.
Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch. Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.
Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.
He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.
“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.
He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.
The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.
In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.
Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.
He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.
“I’m throwing that mug out.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”
Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”
You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”
No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.
Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.
Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?
“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”
Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.
You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”
Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.
“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”
“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“
“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.
“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“
You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”
He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”
“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.
Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”
What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.
The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.
So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.
Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.
You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.
There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.
The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.
You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.
“Jungkook,” you croak.
He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”
It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.
The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.
Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.
“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”
Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.
“Do you want to—”
“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”
Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”
You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.
“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”
Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.
“Can you at least say something?” he asks.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.”
He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly. “Sit up, please.” Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”
Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”
“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”
You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.
“I admire you,” he whispers.
“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”
He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”
You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”
Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”
The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.
“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”
“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”
Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”
“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.
“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”
What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.
“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”
You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.
But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.
“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”
“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.
He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”
The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.
“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.
Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”
You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.
It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.
“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.
“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”
“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”
He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”
You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.
Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.
“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”
“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.
You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”
He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”
You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”
“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.
Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.
When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.
Then, he pinches your butt.
You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”
He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”
“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”
Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten @yoongs-jeontae @wintaejk @guksweet @rynofpentacles @mikroparadise @jeonggukkiepabo @softlyjiminie
Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk + 3x Anonymous
Taglist: @jiminskth @teresaisla @yeontanie21 @tessanator97 @ladyartemesia @dayjeons @djasheyash99 @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz @bbangtanlove95 @zeharilisharaban @jungkooksgoodgirl @topanga27 @pjmochii @iwanttohitmyself @veryuniquenamegoeshere @bel-abysse @jiminsreads @jungkookspromise
© GguksGalaxy 2020
This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work.
#ficswithluv#bangtanfairygarden#bangtanscenery#magicshopnet#bangtanhq#jungkook smut#bts smut#mywriting#jk bday drabbles#stranded#jungkook angst#bts angst#jungkook fic#bts fic#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#jugnkook fluff#bts fluff#jungkook story#bts story#jungkook series#bts series#jungkook oneshot#bts oneshot#jungkook imagine#bts imagine#enemies to lovers#Jungkook au
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HIIIIII!!!!
i saw you say that you dont get a lot of requests so i decided to fix that instead of doing my own
can you do headcannons for iida, kirishima and hawks with a gf who listens to music to clean and ends up getting lost in her own world?? like, dances with the broom, belts songs at the top of her lungs even if she cant sing, and basically has a mini party to do small stuff like put dishes away SFDJSKFBDSJFK so literally just me
thank you SO much!!
Bestie this is ME. This is such a cute idea thank you for requesting.
I aged Iida and Kirishima up to pro heroes to make thins easier. There are no sexy times, lol, just adults who have their own living spaces and pay their own bills.
I also had reader singing specific songs, so y'all can judge my music choices apodfpdsof
Warnings: Swearing
Masterlist
. . .
Tenya Iida
(Song: Bezos I, by Bo Burnham)
Iida is not by any means a passionate guy when it comes to music
He enjoys music, sure, but he enjoys it quietly
The most reaction you get out of him from listening to music is bobbing his head along or lip synching a little
So when he sees you going all out with your music, he falls in love with you a little bit more
The two of you live together. It's a Saturday, and Saturday means chores and errands
You agree to divide and conquer. Tenya goes grocery shopping, and you get started on some of the cleaning
You know how some people are absolute BEASTS and can carry like 8 grocery bags at once? 100% Tenya. It only takes him one trip to get them all in the house.
He opens the front door, and is immediately hit with the thumping bass of a very familiar song
He chuckles quietly, hearing you sing along.
Tenya quickly deposits the bags in the kitchen, before making his way through the small house to find you.
You're in the bathroom, wiping down the mirror hanging over the sink as you bounce up and down on your toes to the rythum
"Zuckerburg and Gates and Buffet, amateurs can fucking suck it, fuck their wives, drink their blood, come on Jeff, get 'em!"
You jumped up and down at the beat drop as Tenya watched, arms crossed and his lips pursed to contain his laughter. You look like you're having the time of you life.
As the song ends and the next one plays, you turn to throw away the paper towel you used to clean the mirror. That's when you spot Tenya
"Holy shit," you exclaim, jumping again, this time in surprise "Tenya, don't do that!"
"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist seeing your dance party." He laughs, kissing your forehead. "I see you've been having fun."
You groaned, face-planting into his chest. "And I see you enjoy embarrassing me."
"I don't mean to," Tenya promises, taking your hand and pressing a kiss onto it "You're just too adorable to comprehend, my love."
Eijiro Kirishima
(Song: The Cult of Dionysus, by The Orion Experience)
Oh Kiri
If you get really into listening to music, you should see him
He's the exact same way
He's not a very good singer, but that doesn't stop him from belting out his favorite songs at the top of his lungs
Eijiro doesn't live with you yet but he does have a key to your apartment
He texted you that he was coming over, but you never responded. He's not worried though, since you have a track record of getting busy with something and forgetting to check your phone
When he lets himself in, he realized exactly why you never answered him
You've got music blaring from your phone, which is placed on a counter, and you're in the middle of your kitchen, broom in hand, getting into it
You swing the broom around, using it as a microphone
“I’m feeling devious, looking glamorous, let’s get mischievous, and polyamorous.”
Homie joins in with “Wine and women and wonderful vices, welcome to the Cult of Dionysus!”
You, being so caught up in your song, scream and drop the broom.
“Ah, sorry, babe!” Eijiro jumps, startled by your scream. “Didn’t mean to freak ya out.”
“Geez, you saw all that?” You ask, hand over your racing heart.
“I mean I only just got here,” he replies, giving you a lopsided grin. “You sounded great, by the way. I love that song.”
“I sound like a dying cat.”
“No way! I sound like a dying cat when I sing. You actually sounded good.”
“Ah, thanks.” You hesitate, your boyfriend’s sudden appearance finally dawning on you. “Wait a minute, what are you doing here?”
“I texted you that I was coming,” Ejiro shrugged, nodding to the device. “I think you had the music too loud to notice, though.”
“Oops,” You winced, turning your music off. “Sorry, Eiji. Let me finish up here, and we can do something. Hold the dustpan, will you?”
Eijiro helps you finish sweeping, then you both settle down to watch a movie.
“I wasn’t kidding before,” He says, pulling your close to him. “I really liked hearing you sing.”
“Play your cards right, and you can hear it again some time.”
Keigo Takami (Hawks)
(ok but this GIF pretty much sums up his reaction aifoisdhfaoisd)
(Song: Lay all your Love on Me, by ABBA)
Hawks doesn’t listen to a lot of music
He’s constantly busy, and when he has free time he doesn’t really think to use it to browse Spotify
His only music reference is what you like. I bet he’s saved all your Spotify playlists
So when he swings by your apartment for a surprise visit on his day off, he immediately recognizes the song you have playing through your speakers
He sees you in your kitchen, putting away dishes and jamming out, so he does what any sane bird man who’s absolutely whipped for his girlfriend would do
He stands on your balcony and watches you with awestruck eyes
You pluck a glass from your dishwasher, using it as a microphone as you spin around, opening a cabinet to put it away
“Don’t go wasting your emotions, lay all your love on me. Don’t go sharing your devotion, lay all your love on me.”
Keigo hangs out for a few more verses, thinking that he’s never been more attracted to you.
He’s an overworked birb, ok? He doesn’t get to have mindless fun very often, so seeing you loose yourself in the song makes his simp heart go brrrrr
You’re so lost in the moment, you don’t notice he’s even there until the end of the song, when he starts to applaud
Ok so that GIF, right? That’s a slow clap. For you though, Keigo’s giving you vigorous applause
You jump, nearly dropping a plate. “Motherfucker, Kei! A little warning next time!”
He chuckles, sidling up next to you. “Sorry love dove, you just looked like you were having so much fun, it was unbelievably adorable.”
“Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” you whined, covering your face with a hand.
“i’m sorry,” Keigo said again, moving your hand, a soft encouraging smile crossing his features. “I don’t mean to embarrass you. You just have this way of mesmerizing me.”
You melted into his touch as Keigo nuzzled into you, gently wrapping his arms around your waist
“You sounded beautiful,” He added, dusting feather light kisses across your face
“Thanks,” you muttered, brushing a hand through your boyfriend’s already tousled hair
“You still seem upset.”
“I’m not,” You insisted, pressing an assuring kiss to his jaw. “The embarrassment is still lingering, though.”
“Can I make it up to you?” Keigo asked, tracing a gentle line down your face.
“Depends. Could you be persuaded to sing for me?”
“Highly doubtful. Can buy you lunch instead?”
“You got yourself a deal, birdy.”
#mha#bnha#iida#tenya#tenya iida#iida x reader#tenya x reader#tenya iida x reader#eijiro#kirishima#eijiro x reader#kirishima x reader#eijiro kirishima#eijiro kirishima x reader#hawks#keigo#takami#keigo takami#hawks x reader#keigo x reader#takami x reader#keigo takami x reader#mha x reader#bnha x reader#peachii my love
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Thirty Seven Seconds
Soulmate AU commission for @pokemonfreak666, hope you like it, bby!
Bakugou Katsuki x Female Reader, Kirishima Eijiro x Female Reader
TW non-con, minor character death, nsfw
Part II
It’s funny how easily the things you think are important get pushed aside and forgotten when everything goes to shit.
For over twenty years you’ve watched the timers on your wrists slowly tick down, day by day, hour by hour, second by second. Separated only by a fraction of a second, counting down to the exact moment you’d meet your soulmates. And for as long as you can remember, those two timers have meant everything to you.
Twenty-four hours out, and you could barely focus, buzzing with nervous anticipation.
Twelve hours. Six. An hour and forty five. Down the timers tick.
Nine minutes.
Five and a half.
Two.
It’s hard to describe the almost dizzying excitement you felt walking down the street, your arm looped with your friend’s. Giddy and grinning like a fool, it’d felt like nothing in the world could possibly touch you - you were moments away from meeting the ones - your soulmates, your happily ever after.
And even though the timers never lied, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes peeled, desperately searching for an early glimpse of them while your friend (two months away from meeting her own) just rolled her eyes and laughed good-naturedly.
Thirty seven seconds out, and the ground shook as an explosion ripped through the sky.
Funnily enough, you don’t remember too much after that. Just a wave of searing heat, an aftershock that knocks you clean off your feet and the sound of your best friend screaming.
There’s a hard body colliding with yours, the smell of burnt sugar and musk choking the air around you-
“Oi, shitty hair, get the other one!”
And then there’s nothing.
—
You wake up in the hospital hours later and a nurse with a sombre face tells you that your friend didn’t make it, and for the first time in years your soulmates are the furthest thing from your mind.
It was a villain attack, some no-name wannabe trying to make a reputation for himself. It doesn’t really matter, you don’t really care.
It’s all white noise.
She tells you that you have visitors if you’re feeling up to it - the two Pro Heroes who rescued you stuck around to come see if you were okay, but you just shake your head.
It’s not their fault, you know that, but the timers stopped ticking and your best friend died and you’re honestly not sure whether you’ll ever be able to reconcile those two things in your head.
You spend just under a week in hospital, and every day they come to see you.
They never make it past the nurses station.
—
Two days after you’re discharged, there’s a rough pounding at your front door.
You know, even before you glance through the peephole that it’s them. And even with your hand resting on the doorknob, your heart hammering away inside of your chest, there’s a part of you that wants to walk away, to shut them out entirely until they get the message that you’re not interested.
But it’s not their fault, you remind yourself, and you can’t be cruel.
Tentatively, you twist the knob and let the door swing open just a touch, catching on the chain deadbolt.
The sight of the two towering Pro Heroes - Dynamight and Red Riot, unmistakable even out of their Hero costumes - standing out in the hall would be enough to set anybody on edge, but it’s the way their gazes snap towards you, red eyes zeroing in like you’ve caught them in the middle of a conversation that makes your heart squeeze uncomfortably.
They know. They have to.
“H-hello?”
The blond’s still scowling, but the redhead (Kirishima, a voice inside your head supplies. He was your friend’s favourite, wasn’t he?) grins brightly at you.
“Hey babe! Y’know, you’re one tough chick to get ahold of,” he laughs, and your eyes flicker to Bakugou’s just in time to see the muscle in his jaw twitch. “Mind if we come in, sweetheart?”
Your stomach twists at the casual endearment, even more so when you catch sight of the pink and red flowers in his hand.
The polite thing to do would be to say yes; soulmates or not they did technically save your life and they deserve that much at least, but you just-
You can’t.
Not when you buried your friend yesterday. You need time. You need space. You’re just not in the right place and now… you’re not sure if you ever will be.
Swallowing tightly, you nibble on your bottom lip, “Um… look, I-I’m really sorry, but-”
“Nah, fuck this shit,” Bakugou snaps. “Move,” and you have all of a split second to process the command before his foot’s on the door and it’s splintering inwards, ripping the deadbolt clean off.
A shriek tears its way free as you flinch in on yourself, and vaguely you register Kirishima loudly chastising him, but you can’t focus on that when the blond’s hand is on your arm, fingers digging in, dragging you unceremoniously inside.
“Shut up, Kiri. ‘m not gonna let her push us away because she’s too fuckin’ stubborn for her own good.”
And then those red, glaring eyes are fixed on you, and it feels like you’re a little rabbit, caught in the maw of a hungry wolf. “What are you- stop!” you cry as he painfully yanks you forward again, this time in the direction of your open bedroom.
But Bakugou doesn’t listen, doesn’t even pause, and despite his earlier protests, neither does Kirishima.
It’s too fast, too sudden-
Your heart is pounding, fear gripping at your throat, squeezing. You don’t understand what’s happened, why they’ve forced their way inside your home, why they’re hurting you.
“Wait, please! I-I don’t-”
“You don't what, princess?! You’re our soulmate, aren’t you?” he snarls, and you can only sob. “Then just…” he breaks off with a frustrated huff, “just shut up and enjoy this.”
Against two Pro Heroes, you never stood a chance.
It’s all too easy for Kiri to manhandle you back onto the bed, impossibly strong arms encircling your torso, drawing you back to prop you up against his chest while Bakugou busies himself with your lower half. Clothes are ripped off of you, greedy hands palming at exposed flesh, and you choke on another sob as heated red eyes gaze up at you from between your forcibly spread thighs.
The first lick of his tongue against your sex has you keening, writhing against the redhead’s grip. It’s useless - Kiri has no intentions of letting you go anywhere, and Bakugou only growls, fingers tightening on the meat of your thighs as he pushes his tongue further between your folds.
He eats you out like a man starved - sucking and slurping gracelessly at your cunt, messily, with no rhythm or technique, fucking his tongue into you while you shake and tearfully beg for him to stop. Yet you can’t fight the shameful warmth that burns at your cheeks, the way your toes curl and your breath stutters when he decides to add two fingers into the mix.
“Please,” you sniffle, choking back another moan as his tongue wraps around your clit and he suckles the swollen bud, but neither one of your soulmates pays the cry any heed.
You can feel Kiri’s own hardening cock nudging at your lower back as he plays with your tits, cooing at you and laughing when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger just as Bakugou’s fingers hit that sensitive bundle of nerves and you scream, shaking and trembling in his grip.
“Yeah, you like that baby? You like Bakugou eating your pussy out?” His lips trail along the curve of your neck, sucking hot, wet, open mouthed kisses against the tender flesh while he ruts his hips against you. “Don’t go all shy on us now, wanna hear how good we’re making our pretty girl feel.”
And while his fingers relentlessly pump into your dripping cunt, Bakugou pulls back, lower jaw shining and wet with your juices, and grins, “Course she fuckin’ likes it. Little slut’s practically clamping down on my tongue with how badly she wants to cum.” His smirk deepens, something dark and feral burning in those crimson depths as his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, “But we’re just getting started, aren’t we princess? Gonna fuck you till you’re a drooling fucking mess, begging for your soulmates’ cocks, and you’re gonna love every damned second of it.”
Trapped between the two of them - your soulmates, the two people on earth who’re supposed to love you, protect you - you can only sob.
#yandere bnha#yandere bakugou#yandere bakugo katsuki#yandere kirishima#yandere bakugou x reader#yandere kirishima x reader#yandere kirishima eijiro#yandere bakugou katuski x reader#yandere kirishima eijiro x reader#tw non con#tw death
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