#Two old hags sticking their heads together | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feeder86 · 1 year

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SNAP!

“Ow! Shit! What the hell…?” Joel shouted, turning around to see what had hit him hard on his backside. He could feel the skin on his rear stinging. Whatever it was that had smacked him, his ass hurt like hell! But as he looked around, he couldn’t see anyone there in the moonlit garden. “Shit!” he moaned again, rubbing his butt, hardly believing that it was still hurting so much.

“What’s the matter?” Harry drunkenly asked, walking into the garden himself, chuckling from his friend’s unknown misfortune. “Ow! SHIT!” he blasted himself a moment later. “Who the fuck was that?”

“Argh! Fuck me!” blasted Danny, as he too followed them both. Joel could just make him out, standing there on the path, rubbing his own rear. “What the fuck is going on?” He ripped his cell phone from his pocket, letting the screen light up and cast a dim glow on the garden as the boys all came together, back on the path.

There, standing in front of them, was an older, stern-looking woman, staring up angrily. She held a walking stick in her hand and the boys immediately knew that that was clearly the source of their current discomfort.

“What the hell are you doing, old woman?” Harry grumbled, still rubbing his ass. “That fucking hurt y’know!”

“Don’t you talk to me like that!” the woman shot back, pointing the stick up at his face, so close that he went cross-eyed from following its swift movement. “You’re trespassing! I’ve seen you boys here every night this week; drunk on beer and taking a shortcut through my garden; trampling through all my plants!”

“This is assault, you know that?” Danny shot back, incensed by the pain he still felt. “You’re a fucking danger! Old hags like you should be in a nursing home!”

His head spinning from the beer, Joel put a hand on his buddy’s broad back,seeing that he was going a little far. The old lady was quite right after all, they weren’t supposed to be there in her garden.

“I was married to a jumped-up, arrogant pig, just like you three,” the woman began, still managing to make eye contact with all of them, even with Danny’s cell phone shining in her face. “He thought that the world should revolve around him too; that no one else mattered but him,” the lady continued, showing them all her contempt and disgust. “He was under the impression that his good looks were all he needed in life. And just like you three, he didn’t have any manners or respect for women either.” She paused; the garden becoming eerily quiet. “You’ll get what you deserve though. The way you treat people in life always has consequences.”

“Whatever!” Danny huffed, continuing to charge through the garden to jump the fence at the other end. “Come on guys. Just ignore her,” he called back to them both.

“You’ll see!” the old woman cried with a voice dripping with satisfaction. “Maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, or ten years from now, but one day everyone will see what arrogant pigs you really are.

Joel heard Harry begin to follow on. Feeling a pit of guilt about upsetting the old lady, he waited a moment longer. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, before turning and following the other two; climbing the fence and making that shortcut back to the frat house.

Over the following years, Joel looked back fondly on his time in college. He’d worked hard and played harder. But it had also got him to where he needed to be in life: a good job, with plenty of travel opportunities; perfect for someone with few aspirations to ever settle down. Back in the day, he would have said that Danny was a closer friend to him than Harry. However, it was only Harry that he remained in contact with these days. Sometimes that was just the way life worked out.

“There you are, you handsome bastard!” Harry cried; his face lighting up as soon as he saw Joel arriving at the wedding venue. “Have you ever seen a prettier face on a guy than this one here?” he joked to those around him as he embraced Joel for the first time since his stag party a couple of months earlier.

“How are you feeling? Nervous?” Joel asked his friend. He stepped back, feeling that something was different when he hugged Harry. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching a hand out to rub a small paunch that seemed to be sprouting from Harry’s middle. “Have you been stress eating?” he joked, finding it incomprehensible that fitness-obsessed Harry would ever carry a few extra pounds on his athletic frame.

Harry laughed, but immediately changed the subject, clearly embarrassed about his new shape. Joel looked on as his buddy nervously paced up and down, checking on things before his bride would be arriving. His suit was surprisingly ill-fitting. The pants were snug around his butt cheeks and Joel wasn’t altogether convinced that the top button was in place underneath the guy’s belt. It was clearly a fresh gain, for Harry had shown no signs of getting a little chunky at the stag party when he’d raved all night without a shirt on. In fact, even when his stunning bride arrived, walking down the aisle, her eyes were not filled with the loving adoration that most would expect. Instead, she frowned, seeming to silently scold Harry as she looked down at the tight stretch of his shirt buttons.

Joel’s attention soon started to wander as the day went on. Harry had clearly started early that morning, building his courage before the ceremony. So when the beers and champagne flowed later on, it was clear that he was struggling a little more than most. The chief bridesmaid was ridiculously sexy and as Joel made enquiring eyes over in her direction, he was pleased to see that the interest appeared to be mutual. There weren’t many people that Joel knew at the wedding, and aside from the guys he’d met at the stag party, he’d turned his charm up to full blast in order to make friends. But that bridesmaid was still looking over at him, getting Joel so aroused that he didn’t even notice a gluttonous Harry making his fifth tour of the buffet. The sex, when they eventually made it that far, was pretty decent for a one-night fling, and Joel lay back in bed feeling more than satisfied; content to stay there the entire night and enjoy a second round in the morning.

“It was a good wedding yesterday,” Joel rambled after they came. It was still too early in the morning to just take off; feeling that he needed to hang around for at least twenty minutes so that it didn’t seem rude. “I think they’ll be very happy together.”

The bridesmaid huffed sceptically. “Ya think?” she asked, as if she knew something Joel didn’t. Then, when Joel looked at her curiously, she rolled her eyes and told him everything. “Harry and I slept together a couple of nights ago. He told me he’d always had a thing for me and that he couldn’t get married without having me first… We were both drunk. He came in less than three minutes. It really wasn’t good!”

“Harry cheated?” Joel asked, completely shocked. He could hardly believe it. Then again, he’d been so turned on when he’d spotted this girl only yesterday. He couldn’t imagine having to stare at her for years and years and never getting to have any fun with her. It was the whole reason why Joel never did relationships, and he made thoroughly sure that everyone knew it. “Does anyone know that you two..?” he began asking.

“No. I’ve not told anyone. It doesn’t exactly make me look good, does it? Sleeping with my best friend’s husband!” She sighed and held her face in her hands.

Joel was soon putting his pants back on and making his escape. He slipped back into his own room and freshened up before heading down for breakfast in the hotel. It was still early and not many had made it down as yet. However, there was Harry, still dressed in his tight pants and shirt from the night before, greedily feasting from one of the many plates of food he’d brought back to his table.

“Hey, buddy!” Joel cried, slipping his hands onto Harry’s shoulders as if to massage him. “What’re you doing up so early? And where’s your wife?” he laughed, trying his best to forget about the guy’s infidelity.

Harry didn’t answer. He only ate.

“Is everything alright with you two?” Joel asked, setting aside his usual boyish bravado whilst he spoke to Harry now. The revelation of Harry’s cheating had unnerved him.

“I woke up feeling really hungry,” Harry replied between mouthfuls. “Has the fresh bacon come out yet?” he asked, looking up at the buffet tables. “They said it was coming.”

Joel could see several greasy plates, already emptied and waiting to be collected from Harry’s table. “Dude, it’s the morning after your wedding. Why are you worrying about bacon?”

“Is the bacon ready, or not?” Harry demanded aggressively.

“Harry!” Joel gasped in shock. “What the fuck is going on with you?”

Seeming to realise he’d overstepped, Harry looked ashamed, dropped his fork and put his hand to his surprisingly sweaty forehead. “Joel, I don’t know what’s happening to me!” he mumbled. “I did something, and now…”

Harry suddenly looked like he was fighting something inside of himself. His body jerked forwards slightly and it seemed almost as if something was trying to climb out of his throat. That was when it happened. He snorted quietly, as if making an impression of a baby pig. Immediately, the tension in his face seemed to retreat and he snorted twice more, just a little louder, before picking up his fork again and setting back to the copious amount of food still on his plate.

Joel suddenly found that his heart was racing. It wasn’t the fact that Harry had just done something so strange; it was the fact that he had done something that was actually unsettlingly familiar…

Eight years earlier, it had been the boys’ final weeks in college. Despite the beautiful sunshine that had arrived, everyone had grown strangely serious, studying and spending every last minute thinking about their final projects. Everyone, that was, apart from Danny. He’d always been the party-boy; the bad influence, always getting himself into trouble. But now the guy had seemed to drop off the face of the Earth. Perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising, given that everyone Joel knew had come to him and asked if he’d heard from Danny since it had all kicked off after the final football game of the season. There had been a huge party and, just like the other boys, Danny had become very drunk, very quickly.

“I hope he’s ashamed of himself,” Emma stated snootily. “Doing that to Jemma just before her final exams! It’s unforgivable.”

Joel tried not to take sides or nod in any way that might signal to Emma that he agreed with her. After all, Danny was his best friend. He’d made a mistake, getting so drunk and kissing Harriet like that. But we’re all human. Mistakes are what we’re best at.

“He’s not replied to any of my messages since last Tuesday,” Joel explained, trying to reframe the situation and let Emma see that he was currently more concerned about Danny’s safety than he was about Jemma’s broken heart. “Even his mom hasn’t heard from him since the weekend.”

“Hopefully he’s dead in a ditch somewhere!” Emma snapped unsympathetically, refusing to be drawn into the building crisis. Then she strutted away from Joel as if he too was contaminated by Danny’s deceit.

Joel tried not to let the worry overtake him. The guy in the dormroom next to Danny had reported hearing him going in and out at strange times. However, Danny hadn’t ever been in when Joel had tried to reach him. Either that, or he simply hadn’t opened the door.

“I need to get into my friend’s room,” Joel explained to the lady at the desk, flashing his devilishly handsome smile, whilst maintaining the doe-eyed look of concern. Even at that age, Joel was more than aware that his good looks were going to get him further in life than any college degree could “No one has heard from him in days. His mom is calling me up every couple of hours.”

“Oh, dear!” the lady replied, rising to her feet. “Well, it’s not really allowed. But this clearly isn’t a normal situation. I suppose, if I came with you, it should be okay…” she pondered aloud, stepping out from behind the desk, ready to follow Joel wherever he was leading her and trying her best not to stare at his cute little butt as she trotted on behind him.

The smell of stale sweat and old beer hit the nostrils hard as soon as Danny’s door was opened. Both of them recoiled a little as they entered the dark space, where the curtains had clearly been drawn for many days. Joel’s finger slid over the greasy light switch, illuminating the large body of the Quarterback sprawled, face down and naked over the bed.

Joel’s feet kicked through empty food cartons and beer bottles as he rushed over to check if Danny was okay. He pushed his hand against the guy’s broad back, surprised at how hot and almost feverish the skin felt to the touch. Breathing just fine, Joel knew that his buddy was most likely on the verge of one hell of a hangover. Perhaps he should have been more weirded out that his friend’s naked, meaty butt was on show, but Joel had seen Danny without his clothes on so many times before: in the changing rooms, or when he was irredemably drunk or high and letting his exhibitionist side out.

“I think we should open the window,” the lady suggested, holding her finger over her nose and looking like she had no intention of doing it herself; or even touching anything in the dirty room.

Feeling obliged to her for getting him inside, Joel immediately followed her suggestion. “I can look after him from here,” he offered, seeing how uncomfortable she was. “I think he might have just had a little bit too much to drink.”

“I think you need to pick your friends more wisely,” the lady whispered to Joel. She was looking over at Danny’s hunched over form; his naked rear pointing directly in her direction as he let rip in his sleep.

“I will,” Joel smiled, determined to remain polite but desperately wanting to get her out so that he could speak to Danny properly and find out what on earth was going on with him. He followed her to the door, closing it behind her, even though the smell of the room was really quite potent.

The mess all over the floor was unreal, like Danny had invited a hundred people over to party in his tiny bedroom.

“Danny! Come on, wake up!” Joel called to him, shaking the football player by the shoulder. He was so hot to the touch, with a thin layer of sweat all over him. “I need to check that you’re okay. Where the hell have you been?”

Danny suddenly stirred and slowly flopped over onto his front. His body on show, Joel instinctively jumped straight off the bed, thinking for a moment that this wasn’t Danny after all. Sitting beneath his mighty pecs was a rather large and distended gut, bloated to the extreme. Danny was groaning and reached his hand to hold it, like it was still expanding and hurting him.

“What the hell have you eaten?” Joel demanded, his eyes wide in shock.

“Everything!” a groggy Danny replied.

“Danny, look at your stomach!” Joel implored him, demanding that he snap out of his stupor. “Have you taken something?”

Despite shaking his head, Danny didn’t even open his eyes. Whilst rubbing his belly, his other hand went straight to his dick, stroking it up and down, even with Joel there in front of him.

That was when Joel heard it: the oinking sounds coming from Danny’s throat. Combined with the stomach rubs he was giving himself, it was as if Danny was making the sounds in order to help himself get off.

“Danny, stop!” Joel demanded, trying to rip Danny’s arm away from his dick. But Danny was strong and holding on tight.

“She did it,” Danny murmured. “This is what she wanted. She said.”

“Who did?” Joel asked, watching as Danny appeared to get closer and closer to coming with quite remarkable speed.

“That woman in the garden. She cursed us.” Danny mumbled, his voice getting deeper and deeper as the inevitable was approaching. “She’s turning me into a…” he tried, before the oinking sounded out once again. Huge jets erupted from his dick, landing all over the duvet and even on the sleeve of Joel’s jacket.

“Danny! What the fuck!” Joel shouted, filled with rage and anger now. But all he could see was his bloated friend, grinning with his eyes still closed tight and a look of contentment spreading over him. “That’s not cool!” Joel spat, trying not to look at the semen on his sleeve in fear that he might start gagging. The stench of the room wasn’t helping either. “Fine!” he stated at last. “If you don’t want my help, I’m just going to leave you like this.”

Joel knew he wasn’t making an empty threat. Why did Danny deserve his help when he’d got himself into a state like this?

“I’m going now,” he announced, hoping that Danny would rouse, even a little, to say something to him.

But Danny was silent and already falling blissfully back to sleep. As Joel left the room, he had no idea that he would actually never see his friend again.

“Harry,” Joel whispered quietly, sitting at the breakfast table with his buddy the morning after his wedding. “Do you remember that time in college when…” Joel began speculatively.

Harry’s face suddenly turned deadly serious, as if he too had been thinking about exactly the same thing. “Danny,” he mumbled; a name that had not passed his lips in years. He stood, as if in a sudden panic. “I’ve got to go!” he mumbled. “I can’t let this…”

The kitchen doors swung open and a steaming tray of fresh bacon was making its way to the buffet. Harry’s face calmed, grabbing his plate and rushing over to fill it up; forgetting everything.

Joel left with an uneasy feeling after the wedding and, against his usual policy, he took the bridesmaid’s phone number and asked her to let him know if things were okay with the newlyweds. He certainly wasn’t expecting to hear from her less than two weeks later, informing Joel that it was over. Just like that, Harry’s wife had left him, packing her bags and abandoning the apartment that they had lived in together to move back in with her mother.

It was a long drive to get there, but the feeling of dread at the pit of Joel’s stomach was almost too much for him to bear. He’d thought so much about the similarities between what had happened to Harry and Danny, enough to entertain the possibility that curses could actually come true. Perhaps it was the fact that the sting of the walking stick hitting his butt still twinged occasionally. As if the impact of it was sitting just beneath his skin after all these years. He had to see Harry. He had to rid himself of these doubts and worries in his mind. There was no choice in the matter.

Joel couldn’t get into the apartment block; there was no answer when he buzzed through or tried to call Danny’s cell phone. It was only when he caught the door as someone was leaving that he managed to enter and creep up to Harry’s floor. He knocked on the door, getting no response and feeling the strangest sense of deja vu.

“Hi,” Joel smiled at the middle aged lady who answered the door across the hall. He leaned himself into the doorframe and plastered his face with the boyish smile that always got him what he wanted with the ladies. “I’m supposed to be staying with my buddy, Harry, tonight,” he lied, pointing at the apartment door behind him. “I think he must have forgotten what time I was arriving though!” he sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically and widening his smile even more still. “I don’t suppose you know whether any of the neighbors keep a spare for that apartment, do they?”

The lady, who had already been beaming at him, nodded emphatically. “It’s Joel, isn’t it?” she asked. “I remember you from the wedding!”

Pretending to remember her, Joel nodded and told her how great it was to see her again. Most people he met seemed to remember him. And so it was that, within no time at all, he was holding the spare key in his hands, bracing himself for what he might find behind Harry’s closed door.

The first thing that hit Joel was the empty space inside the apartment. It was immediately obvious that there had, until very recently, been a lot more furniture inside. The sofas were gone, with piles of papers and junk sitting in stacks around the space. There was a faint sound of heavy breathing coming from somewhere, but the lack of furniture seemed to disorintate Joel as he explored, looking for his friend. Finally, he swung open a door and found the tiny kitchen space. It was an absolute mess, with a large, stout and barely dressed man asleep on the tiled floor; his head propped back against the cupboards. It seemed as if Harry had been to the supermarket only that day, for one of the paper bags remained intact on the floor. The others, however, seemed to have been ripped to shreds the moment Harry had returned. The floor was covered with the evidence of it all; his mouth smeared with bits of everything; an ill-fitting t-shirt stained and stretched beyond anything that would have been acceptable to wear outside of the apartment.

Harry’s gut was monstrous, his belly button deep and highly visible. Still, he looked strong and broad, even intimidating considering the sheer mass of him. How much had he actually eaten to grow so enormous in such a short time? No wonder his marriage was over. He barely resembled the slightly overweight man he had been only a couple of weeks earlier. He’d fallen asleep with his right hand resting inside his overstretched boxers, giving the impression that he’d masturbated before he’d finally lost consciousness. What an absolute mess!

Joel poked at his friend until he started to rouse. “Get up,” he ordered, trying to hide his irritation that Harry had got himself into this state. “I’m here to look after you,” he stated, suddenly realising that this was never going to be a flying visit. There was no point in trying to ask what was going; no hope of getting any sense out of the man. “Go get yourself a shower and I’ll clean up in here.”

Harry barely seemed to register Joel’s presence as unusual. He rose to his feet clumsily, causing more crumbs and packaging to rain down on the already daunting floor that Joel would have to tidy. He stumbled, almost drunkenly into the door, then strutted, as if unsure of how to carry his own body weight, back into the lounge and disappeared into the bathroom.

“I never told you how bad it was last time I saw Danny,” Joel admitted a couple of hours later, having carried a chair from the bedroom for his buddy to sit on and opting for a short stool for himself. “At least, not the full details,” he admitted, feeling the same sense of shame he had carried with him for years now. How could he have ever abandoned a friend like that? “But, whatever you seem to be experiencing, I think he was going through the same thing. Whatever this is, he wasn’t able to control it either,” Joel stressed, trying to keep Harry’s eyes focused on him. “You’re the only other person in the world who could possibly understand what I’m about to say, but… I think this is all happening because of that night. The old woman in the garden.”

Harry nodded slowly, as if only just comprehending. He sat without a shirt on; his giant butt contained, at least for now, inside straining material that dug sharply into his hips. “She said we were…” Harry started, before Joel stopped him. He didn’t need to hear it.

“I think we need to go back. I think we need to find her. If she’s still alive that is.” He rubbed his forehead, hardly believing that he was saying this. It was all insane madness. Where had his rational brain vanished to? Nevertheless, it was the only course of action he could think of. “First thing in the morning, I’m taking you to that house. And we’re not returning until we have some proper answers.”

Joel made good on his promise, getting Harry out of the apartment bright and early the next day. It hadn’t been easy either; Joel had re-entered the apartment at six in the morning, having crashed in his car for the night as there hadn’t even been a sofa, or comfy chair for him to take inside. Immediately, he had heard the sounds of Harry gorging himself on whatever was left in the kitchen that Joel had spent so long cleaning the night before. He’d been furious and his harsh tone seemed to be the only thing that finally got Harry moving. They’d stopped very briefly for Joel to head quickly into a mall and buy something a little less fitted for Harry. The sight of his big ass crack had turned Joel’s stomach that morning, and there was simply no way he was prepared to let the guy out of the car until that gut of his was covered up.

Harry seemed to drift in and out of full awareness. For ten minutes, he could be bright and clear; explaining vividly why his marriage had so quickly broken down due to the strange urges he’d been experiencing. At these times, he appeared completely self-aware and disgusted with himself. Then, after this period ended, he seemed to become more animalistic. His urges built until he was growling for Joel to stop and let him buy more food. He’d rub his belly and stroke his dick, complaining bitterly that he couldn’t climax without feeling his belly stretching with food. Joel had yelled at him to put his dick away, fearing that those around them would see. It also made Harry sweat quite considerably. Joel could see the shimmer on the guy’s skin and tried not to retch as he imagined the sweat building under Harry’s armpits and within the folds of skin; all of it soaking into his car upholstery. He put his foot down, driving onwards at a steady pace and making good progress by midday.

At long last, the two men were pulling up outside the house that they had known so many years ago. There had been so many familiar places on the way in through the city; Joel’s mind singing with nostalgia. If only he was here under more pleasant circumstances.

“Maybe you should wait in the car?” Joel suggested, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a handful of protein bars to distract the glutton whilst he slipped out and locked him inside; knowing that Harry was a little too spaced out to find the unlocking button and that he had at least three minutes before the car alarm would sound. The knowledge of that made him move with a little more haste into the garden and up the stairs to the front door.

The garden still looked the same as it had back then: well tended and functional, vegetables and fruits growing in most of the spaces. He rang the bell, surprised at how fast his heart was beating. Despite knowing for quite some time that he was coming here, the reality of it only seemed to hit him at that moment, as he waited for someone to answer the door to him.

“Hello!” Joel called out after some time had passed without any response. “My name is Joel Rogerson. I used to go to college here a few years ago,” he tried, not wanting to have come all this way for nothing.

Suddenly there was movement from inside and Joel’s heart quickened again. Someone was coming to the door, one slow step at a time. He braced himself, swallowing hard and trying to look smart for reasons that he could not entirely explain to himself. When the door opened, Joel’s jaw dropped. Standing there was the one person he had least expected to see in the entire world; a face he had not looked upon in many years, but one that he strangely recognised with ease. Unmistakable, it was old buddy, Danny. His face was altered, swollen with fat that had enveloped his entire neck and shrunk his eyes back into his head. He was also shirtless; wide, with an enormous, apron-like gut falling lower than his crotch and a belly button that looked deeper than any Joel had ever seen. He couldn’t imagine the audacity and lack of pride Danny had to come to the door looking like he had.

“No shit!” Danny scoffed, gazing a little down at his old friend, standing there on the porch. “I remember you,” he chuckled, as if he had lived an entire lifetime since their old college days. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question,” Joel replied, caught, almost speechless, at the sight of the monstrously large man Danny had become. Easily surpassing five hundred pounds, Danny loomed large and wide, yet his shoulders appeared strong and masculine, but for the sagging nipples that dripped from his broad chest.

Suddenly, Danny became more interested and his nose twitched, sniffing at the scent he was picking up from Joel. “Who have you brought with you?” he demanded; seemingly excited. He stepped out of the house and gazed into the street, just as Joel’s car alarm burst into life; Harry inside, tearing at Joel’s backpack in the hope of finding more snacks.

Sighing, Joel unlocked the car with a click and Harry immediately climbed out. Amazingly, Danny was charging across the street to meet him; the fat wobbling and the skin folds on his enormous back on show for all to see. He embraced Harry with a genuine delight that he hadn’t shown Joel, guiding him into the house eagerly.

“So, what’s happening to him then?” Joel asked a short while later, once Danny had set Harry up with a large stack of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that he was already making fast progress with. The whole house was a mess and the kitchen dirtier still. Joel couldn’t imagine accepting any food that came out of it, but Harry didn’t seem to even notice.

“The curse,” Danny chuckled, watching Harry gorging from across the room, like a proud father. “I’m guessing Harry cheated on someone, just like I did. Then, snap! The curse activates… But I’m sure you already worked that out.”

“It’s true then,” Joel sighed, losing all hope of this being one large and unfortunate coincidence.

“Of course it is!” Danny chuckled, unable to tear his eyes away from Harry as he attacked the stack of sandwiches with nothing but pure gluttony. His eyes seemed to sparkle with delight, or worse, nostalgia.

“Is this how it happened to you?” Joel asked, setting aside his own guilt for abandoning Danny all those years ago.

“Pretty much!” Danny nodded, smirking as Harry seemed to speed up with his eating. “The food’s not even important. The curse is what is making him fat, not the calories. But it’s still fun to watch, eh?” he smiled, nodding briefly at Joel.

“How do we stop it?” Joel asked with a little impatience.

“You don’t,” Danny replied, suddenly short-tempered. “I came here, trying to find the old lady who did this. She let me stay here; said she needed a good, strong fat boy to look after her garden whilst she’s away. That’s how I ended up staying here. She grows things in the garden; special things that draw power from the soli; something can only be found in this area.” He looked at Joel, sensing his disbelief. “I don’t know how it works. “I just do as I’m told. I live here, rent-free, and have a little security guard job that keeps me in food,” he grinned, patting the monstrous tank of belly fat he had amassed. “She’ll be so pleased when I tell her Harry has shown up here at long last as well.”

“He’s not staying here,” Joel stated with absolute conviction, realising that Danny had altered beyond anything he recognised now. He was no friend; not any more. “He’s not going to end up like you have. I’ll make sure of that.”

Danny simply smirked at Joel’s challenge and called over to Harry as he watched the man snaffle the last of the bread. “Did you enjoy that?” he teased patronisingly, as if speaking to a child. He raised himself slowly and Joel tried hard not to look at the enormous ass on the man; each glute pumped full of fat, yet remaining strong and capable. “I’ve left out another little treat for you,” he went on, heading to the pantry and returning with a large carton of ice cream. He handed it to Harry, and chose to sit next to him now, deliberately goading Joel as he slipped his fat arm over his old friend, as if claiming him for his own. “You get that down you. You’ll feel better then… I promise.”

As much as Joel had wanted them both to leave, he knew his best hope of getting in touch with the old lady who had created the curse was to hang around and pick from what he could in the house. He’d pretended to need the bathroom, knowing he wouldn’t be missed downstairs, then slowly went on the hunt for anything that might help him. He wouldn’t be missed downstairs, given how infatuated the enormous Danny seemed to be with watching Harry eat.

There were three bedrooms in the house. Danny’s one was obvious straight away. His bed had become a giant pit, sinking in the middle and smelling of stale sweat. Empty snack wrappers and cartons filled the space in much the same way they had the last time Joel had gone in his dorm room and it was obvious, by the simplest of glances, that this was the room of a very obese man. Joel had hoped to find something in the other rooms, but they were nothing but dusty, soulless spaces, devoid of anything interesting whatsoever. Still he tried, lifting the mattresses and searching behind the wardrobes for anything that might help him track down the old lady who had once lived here; something he knew Danny would never help him do.

“That’s it, Piggy!” Danny cried from downstairs, accompanied by loud, deep moans from Harry. “Get every last drop down!”

Joel raced down, wondering what on earth Danny was inflicting upon Harry and kicking himself for having left him alone in the first place. He arrived in the living room just as Harry ejaculated all over his now naked body. His dick was very firmly in Danny’s fist, even as the fat man held a giant gallon bottle of milk over his open mouth. “What are you doing?” Joel demanded. “Leave him alone!”

Danny smiled at Harry, then leant in for a kiss, which Harry gladly accepted and returned; their tongues fusing together as Joel could only watch on. Then, rising to his feet, Danny’s smile faded and he looked grim-faced at Joel. All of a sudden, Joel felt himself being grabbed by his t-shirt and pushed back over the sweaty sofa; his chin held by Danny’s arm and the rest of him pinned against the enormous man’s mass. At that moment, Danny’s part time job as a security guard seemed to make perfect sense. Joel hadn’t even seen it coming and he squirmed, finding it hard to catch his breath.

“You’re killing my mood,” Danny growled at him. “All I’m doing is playing with the pig.”

“Harry… Harry,” Joel gasped, trying to look up at his friend, only inches away from him; sitting on the sofa where he had been laid out flat by the gigantic fat man. “Get him off me!”

Danny chuckled, looking across at Harry himself. “Keep eating, Fat Boy!” he teased. “Grow nice and fat for me!”

To Joel’s astonishment, Harry did exactly as he was told, picking up more of the food Danny had brought in and feeding himself without a single concern about Joel’s ongoing attack.

“He’s mine now!” Danny declared. “But thank you for bringing him to me. You can go home now.”

Harry!” Joel tried one last time; practically begging for him to get up off his ass and get Danny away from him. “Please!”

“You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you?” Danny growled. “But there were three little piggies who were cursed that night, remember…”

Seeing that Harry was not coming to his aid, Joel stared hard into Danny’s eyes; his gaze stern and defiant. “I’m nothing like you!” he growled with all the energy he had left in him.

Danny seemed to lower his face down to him and Joel tried to shrink away as he felt the disgusting guy’s hot breath on his face. “Here piggy, piggy, piggy!” Danny whispered in an almost inaudible tone.

Joel felt like he was about to pass out. The room seemed to go dark and he had the strangest feeling of suddenly being outside of his own body. Someone, somewhere, had started oinking like a pig.

When the room came back into focus again, Danny was stood again, with a naked Harry and his stout little belly standing by his side. They were both laughing, very clearly, at him; as if he had just done something he wasn’t even aware of.

Joel rubbed his face and rose properly to his feet, surprised by how dizzy he felt. He grabbed at Harry’s newly bought clothes, empty and discarded on the floor and held them out to him. “Harry, get dressed!” he demanded, feeling physically afraid to stay here any longer. “Come with me now.”

The two men were laughing at him still; as if every word that came out of his mouth was gibberish.

“I mean it, Harry! We have to leave!”

Finally, with no other idea of what to do, Joel threw the clothes down and headed straight for the door. He didn’t look back as his car engine roared into life. He’d done it again; taken the easy option, just as he had eight years earlier. And in doing so, he’d just kissed any hope of saving Harry goodbye.

Joel’s experience played on his mind for months. He felt irritable and impatient with people. He now knew for certain that a curse lived within him, like a parasite waiting for the order to eat him up from the inside. There was no one in the entire world who could know what it was like to live like that; there was no one who would believe him if he tried to explain it. Joel had never really considered marriage and starting a family, but now he felt like those options no longer existed for him anyway. Why open up to someone properly when the temptation to cheat could have such disastrous consequences? Why start a family when his whole life could suddenly fall apart, like Harry’s had?

Going back to his old life was never going to work, and Joel knew it. He needed a fresh start; to get away and make new experiences for himself. Working for a global company, there were occasionally opportunities for someone to make a big leap, just like Joel needed now. When the Gold Coast position came up, it felt like it was meant to be. Joel could easily see himself living in Australia. He’d always been a keen surfer and the lifestyle out there seemed to match entirely with his personality. As such, he didn’t waste any time in submitting an application; already starting to plan his big move.

“May the best candidate win!” Sarah smiled as she passed Joel in the corridor. “I hear you’re going for the transfer too?”

Joel raised his eyebrows in surprise. He knew that other people had the option to try out for the new job, but he hadn’t heard anyone else expressing an interest. If he was honest, he wouldn’t have minded all that much if someone else did go for it, but not Sarah. She had one of those formidable personalities: smart, alert and highly capable. She seemed to give off exactly the sort of energy and ethos the company liked best; it was clear to anyone who met her that she was climbing the ranks at rapid speed.

“How come you want to transfer to the Gold Coast?” Joel asked, trying not to let his longing for the job shine through. “I thought you’d want to be heading your way to head office and really start making a name for yourself?” he tried, hoping his words might make Sarah rethink.

“Oh, absolutely!” Sarah nodded. “But this job will be amazing for me, at least for a few months, don’t you think? Just imagine the experience I’ll get!” she beamed.

Joel bit his tongue. Sarah was willing to ruin this opportunity for him just to boost her CV. He could tell that she already knew she had the job, and why wouldn’t she? Everyone seemed to think the sun shone out of her ass. But she didn’t know how much Joel needed this move, and he doubted very much that an ambitious girl like her would even care if he ever tried to explain it to her.

It wasn’t Joel’s finest moment, but as he saw Sarah’s application form sitting there on their line-manager’s desk whilst she was out to lunch, he did the only thing he felt he could do to take back some sort of control in his life. Sifting through the papers, he took out the optional personal statement where Sarah always seemed to excel. He read it through, shaking his head. He’d spent hours trying to sell himself on his application, yet Sarah’s words were all so much better than his. Hell, if he was choosing, there’s no way he would give the job to anyone else after reading this. It was instinct: scrunching the personal statement into a ball and quickly scurrying out of the office, knowing that he had definitely given himself a much better chance: a last hope. There would be plenty more opportunities for the likes of Sarah. But, right now, Joel had to put himself first. He deserved this after all he had been through recently.

It was the Friday of that week when it happened. The clock ticked to midday and Joel suddenly felt an almighty, thunderous slap on his butt. He was sitting down at his desk at the time and he jumped up shouting a loud expletive. Everyone looked up at him from their computers, some scowling and sheltering their phones to protect customers from hearing any more unprofessional workplace language.

Joel didn’t care. He rubbed his ass, wondering what the fuck had hit him like a sharp, stinging cane travelling at a hundred miles an hour. Had no one else heard the loud SNAP as it had connected with him?

He sat back down, still grumbling as the busy office continued on regardless.

“Are you all right?” asked one of Joel’s colleagues. “You were in the bathroom for like, half an hour.”

Joel shook his head. “Was I?” he asked, squinting to see the time on his computer. It was almost the end of the day and he was nowhere near done with everything he needed to do. He rubbed his forehead, feeling how sweaty and warm he felt. “Have they turned the heat up or something?”

Surveying him from a distance, Joel’s colleague felt confident in her diagnosis. “I think you’re coming down with something,” she declared, before insisting that he went home a little early.

Although Joel remembered agreeing to leave work, it was gone eight in the evening before he found himself finally getting into his apartment. He felt so hungry, deciding that he was going to grab something and then head straight to bed in order to shake off whatever this strange funk was.

Joel was woken by a knock at his door. He looked around, seeing he’d drifted off on his couch and he slowly got himself up. He brushed his hand through his hair, still feeling that he had a temperature. He almost forgot what he was getting up for, until he heard the knock again; louder and more impatient.

“Hey there!” smiled Freya, leaning seductively against the doorframe. “Did I interrupt a workout?” she teased, seeming to appreciate the sweaty sheen on him and the way Joel’s t-shirt was clinging to his toned chest.

Joel knew what Freya wanted. She only ever came round when she was bored and horny. Then, most of the time, being the gentleman that he was, joel would sort her out and have some fun along the way. As occasional fuck-buddies went, Freya was a smoking hot choice. Her hand slipped onto his shoulders and they began smooching right there on the doorstep.

Freya must have peeked during their kiss, for she pulled out of the kiss suddenly. “Jeez, Joel! Your apartment is a mess!” she laughed. “I’ve never seen it like this!”

Joel knew he hadn’t hoovered since last weekend and he shrugged, not wanting to turn around and look when he was holding Freya’s beautiful hips in his hands. “Shall we go straight to the bedroom then?” he asked.

Freya smiled back at him, glad that their foreplay time was getting shorter and shorter these days. They both had an itch to scratch, so why waste time?

Twenty minutes later, Joel had never felt more embarrassed in his life as he came out of his bedroom, trying to convince Freya to stay a little longer. He’d never had these issues before. He was young, fit and very accomplished in the bedroom. These sorts of things didn’t happen to guys like him.

Freya didn’t seem to have any patience and actually seemed deeply offended. No matter what she had done, where she had put Joel’s dick, or how much effort she put in, Joel just wasn’t getting hard with her. “Maybe we could try again tomorrow?” Joel asked, keen not to lose his occasional bed companion, or for her to spread the word that he hadn’t been able to get it up. But Freya was not stopping for a chat. She’d made her frustration quite plain in the bedroom and, within a moment, Joel found himself alone, looking down at his dick, wondering what the hell had just happened. Whatever lurgy he was suffering from today, he wasn’t feeling at all himself.

“Joel? Where are you, buddy? It’s gone 9am.”

Joel shook his head and tried to make sense of why his boss was calling him. He looked across at the clock on the wall. It was twenty past nine, but he had no idea whether that was morning or night. It certainly couldn’t be Monday morning, surely?

Sensing his grogginess, Joel’s boss blundered on, filling the silent void where Joel was still trying to think of what to say. “Angela said you looked like you were coming down with the flu on Friday before you left? I’m guessing you haven’t had much of a weekend?”

“No,” Joel replied, rubbing his sweaty face, finally ready to believe that he was actually late for work. “I’ve been pretty spaced out. I don’t know what’s wrong. It’s like some sort of fever. I didn’t even realise it was Monday already.”

“Joel, it’s absolutely fine,” his boss replied; her voice full of understanding and concern. “Five years you’ve worked here and never taken a sick day. I was starting to think you were super-human or something. Please look after yourself, go see a doctor and give me a call when you think you’ll be ready to come back in.”

“Thanks,” Joel mumbled, already losing track of what his boss was saying: too much information all in one go.

“When you come back, I’ll want to talk to you about your application for the transfer too,” she went on. “You were by far the strongest candidate with your personal statement. Even Sarah failed to sell herself on her application form. I’ll be sorry to see you go.”

“You mean, I got it?” Joel asked, suddenly brought back to life by the news.

“We’ll talk about it when you’re feeling better,” his boss chuckled. “But, yes. Well done, Joel. You did it!”

After putting the phone down, Joel felt a burst of energy and clarity that he hadn’t experienced in some time. He’d got the job! Even Sarah hadn’t been able to outdo him this time!

But then Joel’s smile faded. He began to think back to the week before, when he had slipped out part of Sarah’s application and kept it. He’d got the job by cheating; he knew that. And if no one had noticed before the midday deadline last Friday, her application would have been seriously weakened. But, he’d cheated, Joel’s mind kept on reminding him, and Sarah had suffered for it. He remembered the weird thwack he’d felt on his butt that lunchtime, bringing back that awful memory of the night he, Harry and Danny had been caught in the old lady’s garden, back in college. That was the last time he’d experienced pain like that before. He’d cheated, his mind repeated. Like a selfish pig.

Joel felt his heart sink like an anchor plunging into icy seawater; yet it began beating faster than he had ever felt it before. He shifted from this way to that, not knowing where to go. He eventually found himself in the bathroom, feeling the sudden urge to pour cold water over his face to try and keep his mind focused. It was the first time he’d noticed that he was still naked after getting frisky with Freya. Had that been Friday night? Saturday? Time had gotten away from him. Then, in the reflection, he saw it for the first time. The masking of his abs with a budding layer of fat. It had surreptiously built, thickening his waistline as Joel twisted to see if what he was actually seeing was true. He looked like he’d gained twenty pounds in a single weekend. “No, no, no, no!” he panicked, twisting further to see his small, tight buns also looking thicker and beefier. Then he pushed his face into the mirror, observing the start of a small chin under his handsome jawline. “No! Fuck!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. It was all so unfair! This was all happening because of fucking Sarah? Where the fuck was the justice in that?

Joel needed to do something. He could explain! He probably still had Sarah’s personal statement scrunched up in his pocket somewhere. He could take it to his boss and confess to what he had done. It didn’t have to be too late!

But just as soon as this thought came to him, Joel suddenly felt a sharp pain attacking his stomach. With his fingers, he gripped the edges of the sink and lowered his head, growling with discomfort. It almost seemed like his insides were being rearranged, his stomach tying itself in knots. Joel tried to push against the unpleasantness, to squeeze it back from wherever it came from. But there was a feeling, like something trying to creep its way up his throat. He opened his eyes and looked at his reflection in the mirror to see what it was as he couldn’t hold onto it anymore. “Oink, oink!” he heard himself snort. The feeling of relief was instantaneous. “Oink, oink!” he cried again, not fighting the urge this time; the pressure in his stomach decreasing dramatically.

Within a few more seconds, the episode seemed to be over. He gazed at his body once more, surprised to see that his little paunch had appeared to gain a few more pounds again. He was getting love handles, curving out to the sides! Yet, there it was: the erection that had so evaded him during his evening with Freya. Pumped full of blood, it tingled with wild sexual energy, like he had never felt before. His train of thought lost, Joel put his hand to it and fell even further.

Joel couldn’t remember going out for supplies, but he cringed as he saw how he had dressed himself. Having planned to go to the gym on Saturday morning, his tight shorts, fitted sleeveless t-shirt and trainers were the only things he had left out for himself. Now they all seemed to fit horrifyingly badly. In the last couple of days, his stomach had been swelling up, becoming like a small tire around his waist. He’d developed love handles like he’d never seen before, soft and doughy to the touch, whilst his belly button had seemed to deepen with each passing hour. He gazed in horror at himself, seeing how he had the appearance of a man who had no comprehension of how dreadful he looked; his fleshy stomach peeking out below his t-shirt, his underwear and shorts not quite large enough to cover his rear; a sweaty ass crack on display for all to see. Had he bumped into someone he knew as well? He couldn’t quite remember properly. All his memories seemed shrouded in a fog. He’d offended someone. There had been shouting. Now there was cake, or chocolate sauce, or something along those lines, all smeared around his face.

How long had it been since the curse had activated? All sense of time was lost and Joel seemed incapable of remaining level-headed for more than a few minutes at a time. He now understood why Harry had been behaving in the way that he had. He couldn’t imagine the mental effort it must have taken for him to recite his wedding vows after this had all started.

But what about Danny? How had he done it? He may not have been anything like the guy Joel remembered, but he didn’t seem to have the same difficulties with staying lucid. He even had a job! Was that because he wasn’t trying to fight it anymore?

As he thought, Joel suddenly realised his hand was in his pants, tugging at his dick; his other hand sliding across the fresh fat in his middle. He growled angrily in frustration that he barely seemed able to do anything for more than two minutes before he was gorging himself on something, or trying to pleasure his body in other ways. He needed to work past this stage and quickly. He needed his mind back and to end the mental exertion of fighting this.

“I’m giving into this curse. I surrender,” Joel told himself in the mirror, looking straight into his own eyes as if speaking to the curse within. “You win!” he told it. “I’m a…” he hesitated, finding it hard to say the word. “I’m a pig!”

Afterwards, Joel couldn’t remember a thing. He seemed to have skipped days and days. He looked at his body, all bloated with pounds and pounds of even more fat. He’d developed a gut, fleshier nipples and a rounded double chin. His ass appeared to have doubled in width; his thighs fleshy but strong. There wouldn’t be a thing in his whole apartment that would conver his body now and yet, there were larger pants and t-shirts waiting in parcels that he didn’t remember ordering.

Joel pinched and grabbed at the flesh, feeling his hardness throbbing as he did so. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew he didn’t need to worry about work anymore and there was a nagging feeling that he would have to leave his apartment soon. Had something happened? He chuckled at the vague memories that passed through his mind. He would need to find somewhere else to go…

“Well, well, well!” Danny sniggered as Joel let himself into the house near their old college campus. “What have we here?” he chirped, standing up and admiring the changed form of Joel.

It had taken so much training for Joel to handle the long journey up here, but he’d managed it at long last. His mind had needed sharpening, his attention span building up once more. He’d spent hours choosing to be on all fours, gorging himself in order to support the transition. He had stuffed himself beyond feeling full and masturbated more times than he ever had as a teenager. But it had all been for the best. He felt, for the most part, alert once again; remembering most, if not all, of his days. He matched Danny’s stare and held it confidently, letting the guy know that he wasn’t about to be pushed around by him again. He grinned, snorting like a pig and then watched as Danny lost a little of his own composure, leaning forwards slightly and echoing the sounds, whether he meant to or not.

“Where’s the othe pig?” Joel asked; his dick hard and excited to see the transformation. Already he was kicking off his shoes and removing his shirt, letting Danny know that he was here to stay.

“Upstairs, sleeping,” Danny reluctantly replied. “He’s still pushing against it. At least, some part of him is,” he explained. “Jeez! Fuck, Joel! You got fat!” he then suddenly excliamed, seeing Joel’s enormous gut and sounding rather jealous.

“I triggered the curse three months ago,” Joel smirked, tapping his large gut and enjoying the wobble of the softest underside of it.

“Like fuck you only triggered the curse three months ago,” Danny shot back. “Bullshit! Even Harry isn’t as big as you yet.”

“Well that will need to change, won’t it?” Joel laughed with pride. “That old lady had cursed three fat pigs; not two. He’s going to have to catch up now I’m back here. He can’t keep fighting against this forever.”

Joel deliberately sat himself down in Danny’s chair, resting his large butt and sighing in appreciation of being off his feet. Danny, the former quarterback may have been the biggest now, but he wouldn’t always hold that title; Joel knew that with absolute certainty.

“What do you think you can do to get Harry fattening faster than I have?” Danny grunted, seeming put out by the insinuation that he hadn’t been doing a good enough job with their mutual friend.

“You’ll soon see,” Joel smiled, rubbing his large gut and feeling it expand with the confidence he felt in embracing his new personality. What a life this would be; living here, rent-free, with two other fat guys. He jiggled his gut to catch Danny’s attention, knowing that he’d have sex on tap with both of the horny pigs that lived here. Then, just like that, the enormous man came striding over to rub and caress Joel’s gut, as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Even with all his bravado, Danny was a slave to the fat, every bit as much as Joel was.

“Where’s good for pizza around here?” Joel asked. He put his sweaty feet up on the table knocking over everything that had been left on there. Then he spread his legs as Danny slipped his hands into Joel’s sweatpants and began tugging him off. “I’m absolutely starving!”

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stormcrow513 · 1 year

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Hagging Out April/May Hexennacht/May Day/Beltane 2023

@graveyarddirt

So I actually managed to celebrate both Hexennacht AND May Day/Beltane this year! Go me!

So I spent the 29th 30th and 1st completely Witch faced high, lol

I got a shit load done, I did some cleaning, smacking out a lot of dead/shitty energy,

Combining that with a road opening and shit ton of blessing work,

I also thoroughly gave Offerings, April was such a fuck awful month I wanted to forcibly shove it out the door and lock the door behind it, I was so tired I was actually dreading Hexennacht this year cause I hadn't had time or energy to really plan anything or set things up well,

But somehow *cough* cannabis *cough* I became a fucking whirlwind and got everything done, and had a fucking blast,

I have to make do with a candle on my bedroom floor as a fire, but frankly it works just as well as when I was able to do outdoor rituals when we first moved here,

This was my second year with my Mighty Steed and Snakey Wand,

Though I've had that Steed since I was a little girl, you ever have something from before you started a magic path and one day go 'oh hey', that was me with that horse head cane,

See as a kiddling I fucking love collecting two things, rocks and sticks, I had a whole area in my basement 'playroom' (it was half done fucking dungeon, cause my father never finished shit, and it creeped me the holy hell out, but it was where I kept my sticks,) I had em all nicely sorted,

Anyway this gave me an appreciation for walking sticks and canes, my ma had her uncle's old cane I was always trying to play with, but dude was a big fucker, and cane was good deal bigger then me and ma knew I'd never grow into it like I'd been hoping, she found this horse head cane the head snapped and therefore adorable for her, she grabbed it up and brought it home to me, with plans to fix it up I was delighted I spent hours sitting in her closet rubbing my little hands over it,

Ma never was able to fix it up, but surprisingly through all the moves, and that time we asked my sister if she could store some of our stuff and she agreed and then went through it all and tossed and sold most of it,

Horse somehow made it, and I'd been keeping it in my closet,

Also funny enough I grew into it almost perfectly,

I realized a couple years ago while trying to come up with a Sabbat Steed that uh hello I had a perfect one sitting patiently waiting for me to get my shit together, lol,

So I before even fixing the head, started working it, cleaned it up nice, put the pieces near me while sleeping on Sabbat nights, bring it into circle, ect. Last year I finally put the dear together enchanted and Named horse, and off to the Sabbat we went, with my new snake wand tagging along,

And so we flew again this year!

May 1st is also my great aunt who raised my ma's birthday, I never got to meet her but I owe her my existence so I went to put a Coke can (her fav) out for her when I got a shock of a 'welo don't put the whole damn can down' so instead I shared a can with my great aunt for her birthday,

After that I did some work with The Spirit Of The Land, to bridge a better connection between us, that went extremely well

#hagging out #hagging Out 2023 #Hexennacht #Beltane #May day #hagging out April #hagging out Hexennacht

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dreaminlittlenightmares · 1 year

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Story prompt: I need a story involving Roger! Maybe something about his everyday job and including the Nomes.

I imagine that Roger has a lot of roles besides janitorial work. Hope this showcases that...

Title: What a Day Word Count: 1193 Characters: the Janitor, the Nomes, the Runaway Kid CW: Mild Language Use

Today was a long day. Roger the Janitor peeled off his shoes and flopped onto his squeaky bed. The impact made him hiss and reflexively touch his shoulder. He was so happy to find out that his only job was cleaning the sewage, until he did it. Scrubbing the pipes was more than he expected. He could have sworn he pulled a muscle or three, but the job was done. The old hag down in the Depths wasn't kidding when she said something needed to be done about the waste. The Guest were messy slobs, but wow. Roger rolled over to press his noes into the pillow. The sudden remembrance of the stench gave him a headache. He should go back into the shower to wash that out his mind, too.

Suddenly, a pair of scurrying little feet darted across his room. "Confounded Nomes," the Janitor grumbled. Roger waited, then snatched up the pair of intruders quickly. He was blind, but had the reflexes of a Jedi. "You two again! What do you little shits want?"

He knew these two Nomes well. They were suppose to be his personal assistants, granted to him by the Lady. Roger didn't need them, not really. But, they were freshly transformed Nomes. He was suppose to train them before assigning them real work. One Nome chirped fearfully, while the other acted as back up. Roger understood them, but wasn't in a merciful mood to care. He knocked them both on the head and dropped them to the floor. "Shut ya yapping! One at a time. Who's stuck?"

The Nomes slowed down and chirped one at a time. One said a sentence, and the other followed. The pair spoke like this giving Roger a bigger headache.

"So," the tired Janitor growled, "What you're saying is someone got stuck in a wall? Hah. Is it a kid or one of you lot?"

The Nomes looked at each other. One shyly squeaked out a polite but obnoxious question.

The Janitor snapped his teeth. "Is there a difference? One of yous is actually useful! Was it a kid or a Nome!?" He was losing his patience. All he wanted to do was eat a hot meal and crash. This inconvenience was getting on his nerves.

Likewise, the Nomes didn't like his attitude. The second Nome answered stiffly, with a flat yip to its tone.

Roger didn't like that sound. "Well, get them out yourself. You Nomes like to stick together, right? Surely you little shits can put your hats together to think of something."

The first Nome screeched out an objection, followed by the second one.

"Don't care!" Roger huffed and flopped onto his other side, facing away from the pair. "I'm tired. You two go do it!"

The Nomes stayed quiet for a second. One crossed them arms and whistled something snarky. It got the old Janitor's attention quickly.

"You do that, and the Mistress will kill you, kid!" He sat back up and faced the pair. His mouth twisted with anger. How dare they threaten to speak to the Lady about this. "Fine! Let's go!"

Roger followed the pair to the furnace room. The second he smelled the smoke, he started to worry. If there was a hole in a wall here, the smoke could easily travel upwards towards the Guests' dining area. The Lady would throw a fit and the Maw will start losing customers. He couldn't allow that. Once this stupid rescue mission was done, he'll patch up the wall. One of the Nomes squeaked in a higher pitched and Roger waddled faster. This needed to be done quickly.

The pair brought him over to the wall, where several other Nomes gathered in front of the crack. They all whistled and squealed urgently. "Outta the way!" He shoved past the crowd and placed his ear on the wall to listen. He was shocked to hear a child's voice shout back at him.

"Go away!" a familiar young boy's voice demanded.

"Seven!?" Roger placed his ear over the hole. "Whaddah doing in there?"

"Hiding, asshole!" The Runaway Kid stomped over to the hole and kicked as far as his foot could go. That was all Roger needed to catch him and yank him out. Seven yelped in pain when the jagged edges of the wall scraped his face and shoulders.

"You're suppose to be in bed, boy!" the Janitor snarled, ignoring the relieved cheers of the Nomes. "I swear, you brats are just as miserable as these little shits. If you weren't the Madam's "supposed" favorite-"

"I don't want to go back to the nursery!" Seven shouted, "And I'm not the witch's favorite! Let me go!"

"Why?" Roger brought Seven in front of his face. Another part of his was to keep the orphans confided to the lower parts of the Maw. It wasn't unusual for one of the children to try to escape from the nursery. They usually did so whenever they were hungry, spiteful, or upset; and he could tell Seven was in a bad mood.

"Why do you care, Spaghetti Arms?" Seven spat.

The Nomes gathered around Roger and Seven, chirping with concern. Roger knew the boy was a particular favorite among the Nomes. Something had to be definitely wrong with him with the Nomes sought him out for help. "Because it's also my job to make sure you brats have a mildly okay experience here."

Seven rolled his eyes. "Outstanding job, Roger."

The Janitor squeezed the Runaway Kid, causing the boy to yelp. "Listen, smarty pants. You can take it up with me or the Lady. Your choice."

Seven considered his choices. He looked down in defeat. "I just wanted to do something nice for the Old Hag," he murmured, "but I couldn't unclog the drains. I hope bleach didn't get flushed down with the sludge."

"THAT WAS YOU!?" Roger shook the kid. "THAT NASTY STINK WAS FROM YOU?"

Seven flinched from both sound and pain. "Y-yes! I read somewhere that kitty litter would work….and other stuff? And I added bleach to decontaminate everything. Sorry?"

"BOY, I WOULD-" Roger wanted to punch him. That gunk took all day to clear. And that smell? Roger's head instantly felt like a swirling fishbowl. He placed Seven on the ground. The Nomes hurried over to their favorite friend and checked his wounds. "Boy, if you ever decide to take it upon yourself to clean something, ASK ME FIRST!"

"…so, did you clean it?" Seven asked.

"YES I CLEANED IT!" The Janitor threw up his friends in exhaustion. "All this for a child. I'm going to bed…" He took a few steps forward before stopping. "Actually, you're going back to the nursery, and THEN I'll go to bed." Roger swiped up the Runaway Kid again and headed off.

"Owww! My shoulders!"

"Oh right…" Roger let go of the kid, and nudged him forwards to keep moving. "First, your injuries. Then, the nursery, then bed. Ugh…what a day." Roger strutted off. "C'mon, kid, before I drag you back!"

Seven rubbed his sides tenderly. He looked back at the Nomes, then followed the old Janitor quietly. What a day indeed…

#little nightmares #the janitor #the runaway kid #dream granted #short dapples

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love-the-abyss · 1 year

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life is a kind of madness that death makes (chapter 1)

summary: Ellie leaves Jackson looking for hope. Joel leaves Jackson looking for Ellie. And you’re looking to be left alone. But life has a way of dragging us back where we don’t belong.

pairing: eventual Joel Miller x F!Reader / words: 1.7k / warnings: nothing yet, but 18+ only. I’ll let you know when shit hits the fan.

author’s note: This is a slow burn, enemies-to-lovers fic so stick around, and I’ll reward you. Promise. TLOU2 broke me. But this fic will not be that. This is the first thing I’ve written in years, so please be kind—I’m fragile and needy. Ellie plays a vital role in this story but no Joel yet. He’ll be coming in hot in chapter two.

It’s right as Ellie steps out of the tree cover at the edge of the woods and sees the softly lit cabin at dusk that she realizes she definitely should have timed this trip better. There’s something a little aggressive about a knock on the door at night. Especially during the fucking apocalypse.

Should she even knock? Maybe she could call out and announce herself? And probably draw in any nearby clickers, that’d be super helpful in this situation. Shit, she needs to get it together.

Her chest is pounding with nerves. Maybe you won’t even let her in and none of this will have mattered. She knew she should have taken a horse from the stables, that way—

The unmistakeable click of a gun’s hammer from behind her head stops that helpful train of thought in its tracks.

“Shit.”

“Now who the fuck are you, hon?”

Ellie swallows, starts to turn toward your voice.

“Ah, ah. No moving. Matter of fact, raise your hands. Yep, slowly. Good. Behind the head.”

You reach out one hand and rustle in Ellie’s pockets, pulling out her switchblade and tossing it into the damp grass. Your hand lands on a revolver and a fistful of bullets, both ending up in the back pocket of your jeans. In the other pocket you find a shiny pink apple from the greenhouse in Jackson.

You groan. “Oh holy shit, I’m absolutely gonna take this.” Ellie hears you take a giant messy bite behind her head.

“So, kid. You must be from Jackson.”

Ellie shuffles her feet, nibbling her lip.

“Not necessarily…”

You can’t help but laugh a bit under your breath before you take another bite. Chewing, waiting. This kid already looks like she sucks at being patient and you can wait. She still holds the top of her head, and drops it back dramatically, face to the sky.

“Fine! Okay, I’m from Jackson. But that doesn’t mean you know anything about me.”

You stop chewing and, revolver still raised, walk around to her front to get a good look at her. She’s young, but scarred a bit on her eyebrow. Holds herself like she’s 24, not twelve. You remember that feeling.

She’s not scrawny, so she must be well cared for by someone out there. Someone’s who’s probably on their way to find their lost kid right now. You notice her untied sneaker and resist the urge to tie it. She meets your eyes and narrows them for no reason, just to show a little teeth.

“You’re not who I expected,” Ellie accuses.

You huff, not surprised. “Oh yeah? And who exactly were you expecting. Some old witchy hag who lives in the forest with moss in her hair and a big wart on her nose or something?”

She snorts. “Well yeah, sort of. That’s kind of how you were described to me.”

You gasp in mock surprise. Okay, maybe actually a little surprised that someone in your former town would still talk about you that way.

“Seriously? Now who the fuck described me that way… it was Shelley wasn’t it.”

Ellie drops her hands and you quickly reset your hold on the revolver, raising and pointing it straight again.

“Hey kid, watch it. I didn’t tell you you could move.”

She doesn’t listen, plopping straight down in the wet grass and crossing her legs over the other. She grabs her switchblade from under your boot and shoves it back in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Where is this kid’s damn jacket.

“Listen. I’ve been walking all goddamn day, my feet are killing me and I’m pretty sure there’s an entire pine cone in my sock.” She takes off one sneaker and rubs between her toes. “I need to sit if you’re going to keep up with the investigation.”

You lower your gun to your side, a bit over the song and dance anyway. You could probably take this girl down with much less. Not that you feel the need to—you’d probably just let her run away back to cozy Jackson—but you could if you had to. Wouldn’t be the first time you killed a kid.

You grit your teeth. “You can’t blame a girl for being cautious. You did show up at my extremely remote cabin at nighttime, armed no less, and with not a single explanation why. I haven’t had an unwelcome visitor that didn’t snarl and try to bite me since… well, ever. And I’m not too keen on it starting now. You gonna tell me why you’re here or am I gonna have to aim this gun again?”

“Sheesh, you’re kind of bitch, anyone ever tell you that?”

You smirk at her, not unkindly, and put a hand on your hip.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before.”

“How about ‘Doc’?”

Now that got you quiet. You tense, can’t help it.

“I’m no doctor anymore sweetheart,” you admit quietly. “You’ve come to the wrong place if you’re looking to get patched up.”

“But you were one… before this. Weren’t you?”

She raises her head and stares at you, through you.

“What’s your name.”

“Ell- it’s Victoria.”

“El Victoria… that Spanish or something?” You knew she was lying.

And Ellie sucks at lying. A blush creeps into her cheeks.

“No… shit, it’s Ellie. My name is Ellie.”

You almost tell her your name and realize she probably already knows it. Apparently the busy bodies of Jackson have nothing better to do then share all of your details and coordinates with every passing teenager. But there’s only one person in Jackson that knows where you live, and he wouldn’t have told. Would he?

“I’m not doing this out here kid. C’mon, let’s get inside.” You toss the apple core into the woods and turn on your heel, stomping back toward your cabin whether she follows you or not.

Ellie scrambles up and scrapes the grass off her jeans, adjusting the strap of her backpack.

“Hey, wait up!”

Inside, the fireplace pops and crackles with the last embers of your earlier fire. It’s a bit too muggy in here with the windows down so you crack a few. You’d been out for a few hours looking for mushrooms and things to eat when you came back and found a curious little girl staring at your house, completely oblivious to the creeping figure with the gun behind her. It’s a wonder some people survive at all out here.

A tall pot sits on the edge of the fire, bubbling with hot water you forgot about and overflowing a bit onto the steaming stones of the hearth. You could rustle up a brothy soup for you both with what you gathered out there today, but you’re not too thrilled to be sharing.

In the light of the cabin, Ellie can see more about you—the dingy brown cargo pants ripped on the hems and stained at the knees, pockets bulging with stems and mushrooms and what looks like a few bruised berries. Ellie’s gun leaves your back pocket and you take off two knives of your own, one from your boot and the other from your hip. As you turn back to her, she sees the scar on your neck, a shiny, thin crescent that wraps from under your ear to the center of your throat. Someone had tried and failed to kill you. You tug your hair out from behind your ear unconsciously.

“God, who tried to kill you, huh?”

You look back at Ellie pointedly, unamused.

“Just sit your smart ass down. And give me your knife back.”

“Oh c’mon lady, you already got my gun!”

“On the count of three. One… two…”

Ellie tosses the knife on the tabletop, and you quickly snatch it up.

“Fucks sake, I’m not a child.”

“Yeah… but it worked on you, didn’t it, kid?

You smile, opening and closing her knife. It’s nice, faux mother of pearl pins and a thin handle. Perfect for little hands like hers. But the button’s been lubed and loosened, good for quick use if a little dangerous for a kid. But you could tell someone fixed this up nice for her.

You take your own seat then on the stool across from Ellie and lean your elbows on the table. For good measure, and probably just intimidation, you place the revolver in the center between you, pointing the barrel at Ellie and cocking the hammer.

“So, Ellie. Now that we’re all cozy sweetheart, I’m going to need you to tell me what you’re doing in my cabin. You’re not hurt, are you? Or bit? Shit I shoulda fuckin’ checked first.”

Ellie laughs, tugging the bottom of her hoodie sleeve nervously.

“I’m– I’m not sick, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

You nod, worrying your lip.

“Alright, so then why are you here hon. And I’m not going to ask a third time.”

Ellie’s leg bounces under the table, tremoring the melted candle that sits lit on a saucer on the table. She mumbles.

“That was the third time…”

You sigh, deeply. “God you’re a pain in the ass.”

“That’s what they tell me… okay fine, fine. Listen. I’m not sick. But I need a doctor, okay?”

You lean back, crossing your arms. “Yeah? Well I can point you right to one. Turn your smart ass around, walk eight hours southwest back where you came from and you’ll find yourself in a little town called Jackson. A mean old bitch named Shelley runs the clinic and she’ll patch you right up.”

Ellie mirrors your stance, crossing her arms.

“I don’t fucking need fucking Shelley! I need you.”

She says your name then, and it still surprises you to hear it, years after you left civilization behind. You tilt your head, checking Ellie up and down like she’s going to start bleeding on your floors.

“You pregnant?”

“Oh, ew, fuck no.”

“Don’t get snippy, I’m just asking.”

“Definitely not pregnant.”

“Okay, you lookin’ for drugs?”

“Not drugs.”

“Penicillin? Insulin?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine, you wouldn’t have hiked all day to get here. Alone. And without a jacket.”

You stare at each other, silently. It’s not peaceful. But you can be patient. This kid is twitchy, and she’s not going to hold out forever.

Matter of fact, you reach in your packet and take out a leather pouch, pulling out a paper and pinching in a small pile of tobacco. She’s watching you closely, methodically, and it’s not until you light the cigarette and take a deep, cleansing pull that Ellie finally speaks.

She sits up, squares her shoulders, and nods.

“You’re gonna help me find a cure.”

You cough up a lung.

“Like fucking hell I am.”

(Chapter 2: Incoming)

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #pedro pascal #ellie fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #the last us hbo #mine

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puutterings · 2 years

Text

and they turned their attention to the drama

In the first place there were four little girls and they lived next door to each other. That is, their respective families lived next door to each other, and the children roamed about the country-side, or conferred solemnly in the Barn to discuss their various plans of action. On a certain rainy afternoon the four assembled in the Barn, discontent write large on every face, and general irritablity in the atmosphere. The youngest had on a pair of boy’s rubber boots, new and shiny and was greatly pleased with herself. Of course it added to the general feeling of annoyance to see her stalking about enjoying herself, while they, bootless, had nothing to amuse them. “Let’s read some more,” suggested the Oldest, and was greeted with a groan, for they had read all morning. “And if you say dolls I’ll shriek!” said the One with Pigtails. Then the Youngest had an inspiration. After gazing fondly at her boots she exclaimed, “Let’s be boys! Girls can’t do anything anyway. We can play ball, and have huge muscles, and fight, not pinch or slap, but really hit, and not have anything to do with silly girls!” And here the Youngest arose, strode over to her sister, slapped her on the back, with “Come on out, old chap! My name’s Tommy! What’s yours?” “I’m Jimmy!” her sister replied, returning the blow. “Cut it out and come along!” Now of course it rather confused and enraged their parents to be obliged to address their small daughters as Dick, or James, or else be greeted with stony silence. And in order to preserve a strictly masculine appearance the children even went to the extreme of chopping the skirt guards off their invaluable bicycles, which served the purpose of coaches and fours or prancing steeds. And every few days a wrestling match was held on the lawn. Two struggling forms could be seen, surrounded by a circle consisting of two excited brothers who were betting violently on the outcome. Active climbing and hanging from trees was considered excellent for developing the muscles. They saved their money to get a punching bag. The children were always saving their money for something, which, as they grew older, changed accordingly. Tommy always had more money than any one elese. His bank was always crammed with “I. O. U.’s” from his brethren, for Tommy had a good business head, and did not waste his substance. But an ordinary boy’s life was soon found lacking in the romantic element, so with one accord they proceeded to investigate the mysteries of the Black Cat. Father entering the Barn suddenly, was greeted by strange sights and smells. Three witches were grimly stirring cauldrons or arranging rows of bottles (phials, one called them) while an unhappy looking magician stood stiffly in the middle of the floor. “What’s the matter with Tommy?” asked Father. “Is he being a pillar of salt?” The muttering and puttering of the witches continued. Finally one of them vouchsafed the reply that the magician had been turned to stone by one of their number. Jimmy, a disreputable hag, was trying to concoct a magic which would counteract the spell. Just then Jimmy flew up on a broom-stick, and threw a white powder all over Tommy, which bore a strange resemblance to the tennis court lime. Tommy relaxed from his position and stalked off to mumbling to himself and glaring back at the vengeful witch. Mother would often come upon witches in the kitchen, cooking ungodly stews of mosquito-netting and nails. Books were found lying about containing weird formulae: “Mosquito-netting and rusty nails boiled together make a substance that will put anybody to sleep for a thousand years.” “Three drops of olive oil mixed with lime turn a magician to stone,” etc. But as all this was rather hard on the clothes — even of witches — Mother put an end to the puttering, and they turned their attention to the drama...

—

Mary Gail Clark, “Happy Hearts and Happy Faces, Happy Play in Grass Places” in Loose Leaves, The Vassar Miscellany 41:9 (July 1912) : 787-789 (NYPL copy) same (at hathitrust)

ca 1924, Mary Gail Clark ’14 is giving piano lessons and is music critic of the Buffalo Times. vassar

more — Buffalo Seminary Alumnae (February 3, 2016) — ... Mary Gail Clark in 1910 wrote both words and music for SEM’s alma mater (proper title “To Alma Mater”). “To Alma Mater” was originally written as the Senior Song for 1910, but Miss Angell liked it so much that she proclaimed it to be SEM’s actual alma mater. Mary Clark was the daughter of SEM’s music teacher, Seth Clark, organist and choir master at Trinity Episcopal Church. An accomplished student, Mary was in the Glee Club, on the basketball team, and Editor-in-Chief of the “Seminaria.” Her life after SEM was as a professional musician. Prior to World War Two she married Alden Gomez, an atomic physicist. The war took them to Oak Ridge, Tennessee, where Alden was assigned to the top-secret Manhattan Project. Following the war, they stayed in Oak Ridge and Mary took up painting in place of music. A friend wrote of Mary in her last days as “happy in Alden’s companionship, happy in her painting and completely absorbed in it.” Mary Gail Clark Gomez died in 1987. source

aside — Alden B. Gomez was not a physicist, but rather a government (civil service) attorney, who was in private practice in Buffalo, New York, before working in the Tools Division, War Production Board, and later in the Atomic Energy Commission. sources — various, including Bradley Stoughton, History of the Tools Division, War Production Board (1949) : 42

still further down the worm hole —

The Art Center’s Permanent Collection is composed of a wide variety of works representing both international and regional artists. Many benefactors have contributed work over the years, enabling the Art Center to acquire an excellent, world-class collection. The core of the museum’s collection is the Mary and Alden Gomez Collection, the main body of which are Abstract Expressionism works. Because our city and the abstract expressionistic movement were born out of the cultural, political, and societal upheaval of the World War eras, this group of works is very important to our history, our mission, and our hearts. Science and technological advances of this era, many conceived of and achieved first in Oak Ridge, challenged artists to find new ways of expressing themselves. The result was expressive creation without representational images...

May 27 through July 11, 2020 Selections from the Permanent Collection, Oak Ridge (Tennessee) Art Center www.oakridgeartcenter.org

#1912 #Mary Gail Clark #gender #gender-fluid #nails #nuclear abstraction

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hoe-doroki · 3 years

Text

steel and lace

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, anal play, sex toys, voyeuristic fantasy, scratching, creampie

pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

wc: 3.8k

summary: The only one who manages to get Bakugou’s birthday right is you.

a/n: This is my addition to the Bakugou Birthday Bash collab (masterlist). Many thanks to @lady-bakuhoe for helping me flesh out the ideas with this story!! You were integral to this idea, love! And additional thanks to @whats-her-quirk and @therealvalkyrie for beta reading <333

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

Bakugou never took work off on his birthday.

Never. Why would he? Villains didn’t give a shit that this was the day the old hag had unceremoniously had him evacuated into a hospital room however many years ago. They didn’t give a shit that his friends—who were also heroes who should be fucking working, by the way—wanna come over to his house and surprise him. As though his reconnaissance-trained ears weren’t as fucking fine tuned at hearing idiots on the other side of the door as theirs.

What villains should care about was that he was a year older, wiser, and fucking stronger, and he was going to kick all their asses. That was what he told all his idiot friends every year when they asked him if he was going to take off work.

Every year he regretted it.

The idiots he works with really must not care about hero work, because every year they want to send him out on a field post sugar crash from some store-bought cake with his name on it. Or buy him gifts that he’ll probably toss in the trash on the way home. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t need junk that he never would have bought himself in the first place.

Everyone is always grinning at him, wishing him a happy birthday—as though he’s any goddamn happier to see their ugly mugs flapping their lips at him—and trying to start stupid-ass conversations. If he doesn’t like small talk normally, why would he want it on his birthday?

And the singing.

If people really wanted to wish him a happy birthday, they’d find a way to do it silently while doing some respectable fucking hero work. Make his day easier.

But no, none of that was what happened. So he should have just stayed home. Let the villains have a fucking field day on April 20th, and he could have his real gift killing them all tomorrow on the 21st.

But, unfortunately, he was a dumbass and had gone to work anyway, like he’d learned nothing from the last many years of antics. And the continued antics had got him a little pissy. And when he was pissed off, his heart rate increased, his breathing grew heavier, and, of course, he sweat.

Well. Guess what happened?

“Bakugou, I am currently paying to treat burns and fractures on three villains. Care to explain?”

Best Jeanist was sitting in his office chair, blinding sunlight streaming in behind him. Late afternoon sun—darker in color but way more resentful towards human eyes, apparently. It was reflecting off of all of the neighboring glass corporate buildings, making Bakugou squint behind his mask.

Bakugou shrugged, petulant as he stood behind his chair instead of sitting in it. “Overkill.”

Best Jeanist nodded. “Did you…lose control?”

“Tch,” Bakugou scoffed. As if he ever lost control. “Villains were weaker than I thought.”

Bakugou felt the stare of that one fucking eye and stood firm. He knew he was looking at a suspension, hopefully just for a day or two. It wasn’t like he’d done anything terrible. Villains got hurt sometimes, just like pros did, and they got their care and then they got their justice. It’s not like Bakugou was violent on purpose. Anymore. And Jeanist sure as hell knew that, so it wouldn’t take Bakugou off the field for more than a slap on the wrist. He probably wouldn’t even be technically suspended. Just chained by the fucking dick to his desk with some paperwork.

“Just…” Bakugou braced for it, narrowing his eyes but keeping his snarl to a minimum. “Just be more careful next time. Shower and go home—see you tomorrow.”

Bakugou’s jaw dropped. He closed it quickly, trying not to look like Dunce Face in front of his boss, but in all that was real and true what? He was just about to say something—he didn’t know what, probably something insubordinate—when Best Jeanist took out his own paperwork and waved him away.

“Happy birthday, Bakugou.”

Oh. So that was it.

Bakugou grit his teeth. Happy fucking birthday indeed.

It was nothing. His brain told him over and over again that it was fucking nothing. He hadn’t been punished, he hadn’t even really done anything wrong; he just hadn’t been squeaky clean up to fucking code. He could still show up for work tomorrow, business as usual. He should be tickled fucking pink.

But he wasn’t. Special treatment for being the birthday boy? What was he? Five years old and given a pass after stealing the chicken nuggets off Deku’s plate? Jesus Christ.

And if he was honest, he was mostly pissed at himself. Sure, he could blame how the weather always seemed to sprint from spring to summer around his birthday every year, strengthening his quirk. He could blame the villains for being weak enough that they had no business even stepping foot in his neighborhood. But losing control of his quirk even a little—and it had been a little—was fucking amateur and he’d have to pencil in some extra time at the gym. Maybe snatch Shitty Hair for some sparring, and, unfortunately, probably nab an extra therapy session and talk about this anger thing again.

At least walking instead of sitting on that stifling, crowded train car was doing him some good. Let him cool off a bit before he got home and you saw that something was wrong. He was nearly entirely relaxed by the time he got to his building’s lobby, even having the grace to nod at the concierge—who didn’t know it was his birthday, thank God—before heading up the elevator.

When he got off on his floor, it suddenly occurred to him that you might have done something truly repulsive, like inviting his friends over. He could imagine Shitty Hair’s shitty fucking hair sticking up from behind your sofa as he tried to hide before leaping up and yelling surprise.

Well, if that was the case, then the surprise was going to be him kicking all his dumb friends out of the apartment with one foot. Ain’t no way he was going to host a party on his birthday.

It turned out his worry was for nothing, though, because when he turned the knob—fully braced to punch out some teeth with his other hand—he was greeted with a totally bare apartment.

Like barren.

For starters, it was perfectly clean. Bakugou kept a tidy house normally, but this was certainly cleaner than he’d left it this morning. But more than that, there was nothing extra lying around. No stupid friends. No presents. No cake or even the smell of one. It was almost disconcerting.

No, it was a relief. A relief because he didn’t want any of that stuff. He’d had the slice of cake at work—and was slightly hangry now to show for it—and wasn’t interested in having another. And even though you’d choose better gifts than the extras at work would, it was nothing he couldn’t buy himself. So no, this was perfect. He was absolutely not disappointed. Maybe a bit confused. But not disappointed.

He took his shoes off and set his things on the small table by the door. Then he wandered into the kitchen, downed some water, and thought about what he might make for dinner. He might have expected that you and he would make dinner together or maybe even that you would have surprised him with something, but he didn’t mind doing it alone. It wasn’t like he’d learned to cook just to find a housewife someday to con into doing it all for him.

He decided to go to the bedroom first to plug in his phone. He was just sliding it out of his pocket when he opened the door, saw you, and stopped short.

You were on the bed—not in bed, but on it—wearing a black zip up with his signature orange x over the chest. You were on your knees with your legs spread wide, looking him dead in the eye with a deadly smirk on your face, painted in bright lipstick.

“New prototype. You like?”

The two of you had met when you were scouted from his parents’ business to design the clothing for his first merchandise line. He’d sworn off dating you from the beginning, because the last thing he wanted was to give the old hag anything to say about, firstly, her being at all responsible for finding him a girlfriend or secondly, the fact that dating a fashion designer would mean he was dating his parents. He’d said fuck that to anyone who would listen.

But you’d gotten his brain from the beginning. Your designs were all sick from the sketch to mock up to the prototypes you always wore for him. Maybe he was a simple man for falling for a girl dressed in his colors, aiming to please him, but fuck it. You were talented, too smart for your own good, and pretty as hell.

So what? Now he had a dream girlfriend and one more reason to fight with his mom. Net positive for sure.

Still, that jacket wasn’t a prototype. That was from his first official line, no doubt, and he’d seen you wear it hundreds of times. He knew from here how much it would smell like detergent and how much like you.

You caught his eyes, raised your brows once, and then pulled the zip on the sweatshirt.

Underneath was nothing but lace and ribbon, contrasting the black and orange of the sweatshirt with moss green outlining your silhouette. The moss green from his gauntlets and his belt was caged around you in the thinnest strips of fabric, scraps of floral barely covering your breasts and pussy. The lingerie was an all-in-one, with the tiny bra connected to the panties by a few ribbons crossing over your belly. Not hiding a damn thing, but showing it off for all its worth.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned when the sweatshirt hit the bed, your arms still in the sleeves, but the look underneath now fully revealed to him. He could feel the blood going to his dick, just seeing you on display like that getting him up to half mast in seconds.

“Not a lot of coverage on this version,” you mused, sticking your thumb under a bra strap. “Maybe an edit for the second try?”

Bakugou growled, taking a step forward, but you weren’t done just yet.

“I was also thinking maybe full panties next time,” you said, turning around, sitting on your heels. The sweatshirt hung just below your ass, framing round cheeks that were caged by thin elastic crosses, and that was it. Not so much as a triangle of fabric to speak of. “Maybe write: Property of Dynamight on them? Or is that too much text?”

That was all it took for Bakugou to pounce. One arc of his fist had his shirt thrown with a smack to the floor and then his hands were on your shoulders, spinning you face up as he pushed you flat on the bed.

“You know I don’t like unnecessary words,” he growled.

And then he was kissing you, a hand running up the falke stockings pinned on your thighs as you pulled your arms out of the sweatshirt. One leg came up automatically to wrap around his hip, and Bakugou began rutting against your center, fully hard already. On his second grinding thrust, his pants snagged on the scrap of lace you were wearing. Wetness was already glistening on his trousers and he moved his thumb down to your core, groaning at what he felt.

“Crotchless panties?” he mumbled against your mouth. “You’re making this too easy, sweetheart.”

“Shouldn’t have to work so hard on your birthday,” you mewled.

There was a rumble in Bakugou’s throat, half scoff, half chuckle. “Yeah, remind me of that next year, will you?”

You were soaked already—the swipe of his thumb told you that much. Either you’d gotten really excited when he’d texted you that he was coming home early, or you’d…gotten yourself excited at some point after. Either way, it meant that foreplay could wait for round two.

He pulled his thumb away from your core and pressed it against your lip, smudging what lipstick had survived the kisses down your chin. You were half ruined already. You stuck your tongue out and licked at essence on his thumb before sucking it into your mouth, eyes wide as you looked up at him. Fuck, he could feel himself straining against his pants, grinding circles against your half-bare cunt for a spot of relief.

After you licked him clean, he took his hand back, leaving your mouth open and wanting as he began to fuss with the front of his pants. He caught your smudged lips again, holding your jaw with one hand as he pushed his pants down with the other. He pulled his lower half away from you, kicking off the pants—hadn’t bothered with boxers for the commute home—and let them slide off the edge of the bed.

“Ready?” he asked.

Your smile was big and you bit the tip of your tongue, nodding your head twice. That was all he needed. He grabbed his cock in his fist and slid it through your wetness just once, and then he pushed himself in.

Immediately, he felt the drag of something hard and angled against your lower wall right along his cock, pressing from tip to base as he slid home inside of you.

“Woah,” he groaned. “What the fuck?”

You giggled, the action making your walls flutter against him.

“Got myself a new toy,” you said coyly, wrapping your legs around his hips. “Promise you can get yourself something pretty on my birthday too.”

Bakugou reach a hand around your thigh, feeling the elastic garter pulled taut against the stockings that were rubbing so deliciously against his back and his hips. He grabbed a handful of your ass, and the tips of his fingers felt a rounded edge of warm metal slid just between your ass cheeks.

“You fucking naughty minx.” Bakugou grinned, showing all his teeth, rearing back out of you before thrusting back in, feeling the novel pressure of the toy on the way out and back.

No wonder you had been so wet to begin with. You must have lubed yourself up before putting in that butt plug—which wasn’t small, from what he could feel of it. He could imagine you, one leg up on the sink, ass sticking out as you fingered yourself, mouth dropping open when you inserted the toy. How cold it would have been when it first touched your pert little hole and how you’d gotten it all warm for him as you waited with your little secret for him to get home.

“It’s curved to hit prostates,” you gasped as Bakugou rocked hard, steady thrusts into you. “In case you’re interested.”

The thought, much to Bakugou’s surprise, sent a thrill right through his belly down to his dick. He couldn’t help but slam rapidly into you, making your eyes roll back. Fuck, was that something he wanted? It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about, and he didn’t have the mind right now to ponder it.

“God you feel so big.”

“You feel so tight, sweetheart,” Bakugou grunted, refusing to acknowledge the fresh heat that was on his cheeks after your previous comment. “Squeezing me from all sides.”

The butt plug left it so there was barely enough room in your pussy for his cock to pump in and out. The pressure was hard on one side, making him fucking twitch every time the head of his cock caught against it, leading him to opt for long, deep thrusts in and out of you. It was so good that he didn’t even care if the only present he got for his birthday was a little hunk of stainless steel halfway up your ass. He’d gotten home five minutes ago and already he could feel his balls tightening, threatening to bust a nut.

“Just think of it, Katsuki,” you said, your voice dreamy as he fucked you raw. “All the women wearing this set, thinking of you when they show it off for their partners. All wishing that you were the one fucking them. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, baby? But they’ll never have anything but their husband’s sad cock that they pretend is yours.”

“Fuck,” Bakugou growled, putting a hand on the headboard and nearly splintering it in his grip. You were riling him up and it made him want to press his palm flat against the burnished oak and let off his quirk, send shards flying. His hand was already drenched with more sweat than it should have been, just like with those villains earlier. Goddamn this time of year. He couldn’t help it; his quirk begged for it. He was in dire need of release of some kind, and it wasn’t like he could cum yet. He had to know how your pussy felt when it convulsed around him, ass cheeks tensing and squeezing that toy hard against his cock until he was spurting into you.

Bakugou let off a few crackling pops from his palm, moaning as relief filled him, the tension lessened for a moment. A faint smell of wood smoke spread through the room, slightly embittered by the resin blackening around his hand. One more scorch mark on the bed frame. You groaned underneath him, taken by the sight of Bakugou’s ever-tight control slipping for you. You knew he’d fuck you through the bed until the rest of the frame gave way if he wanted. You’d both be flat on a busted mattress and he’d keep going until he felt you clench around him.

“How’s that sound, Katsu?” you continued, your voice growing higher as Bakugou took his hand off the headboard and pressed four fingers, still sweaty and heated from his quirk, against the lace covering your clit. It was soaked through. “A-Ah, you’d like the idea of a woman home alone, dressed up just for you, fucking herself on the dildo she hides in the back of your closet, screaming out your name and hoping to God that her neighbors don’t hear?”

Bakugou couldn’t do the long, slow thrusts anymore. Your legs had grown tighter around his waist, your calves soft and silken against his ass as he kept his thrusts deep. The butt plug was rubbing against the base of his cock as he pounded into you, his fingers swiping over your clit with little finesse, but speed and steady pressure making up for it.

“But no matter…” you continued, the words coming out in little huffs as you panted with your head thrown back. Bakugou couldn’t resist leaning down and licking a line up the length of your neck, biting your earlobe when he got to the top, “no dildo, no matter how expensive, no matter how long and fat, will be good enough. The whole time…they’ll know they’re missing out. Oh, fuck.”

All of a sudden, your thighs were squeezing tight against his hip bones, arms thrown over his back and finger scratching hot lines that would mark him even more as yours tomorrow. Then you were gasping, walls squeezing and Bakugou fought against your grip to pull out just enough so that the metal toy was rubbing just over the cleft of his head with every convulsion.

He didn’t stand a chance. There was hardly any warning before he was cumming into you, streaks of his seed dribbling out of you. He couldn’t even pump himself through it; you were gripping him so tightly and, more than that, he didn’t want to move. Everything was white hot, so he just waited it out, barely moving save for where his hand was still rubbing over your clit.

Eventually you stopped him, grabbing his wrist just as the grip of your cunt loosened around him. Then you brought his hand, glistening with moisture, up to your mouth, and broadly laved your tongue from the base of his fingers to the tips, looking him dead in the eye. You then brought his hand down to your neck, and allowed him to streak the combined fluids across and down your décolletage.

Fuck—there was no way he was going to work on his birthday next year. He’d let villains overtake the city first.

“They’ll know they’re missing out,” you breathed, and it took Bakugou a second to figure out that you were continuing your voyeuristic fantasy from before, playing it out to the end, “They might even think they understand. But the only one who will truly know, is me.”

You smiled, your eyes and grin both heavy, sleepy, sated.

“Got that fucking right,” Bakugou said, pulling out of you, his cum already dripping down your ass. He eyed it, only catching a glimpse of the glinting metal plug before your legs fell to the bed, spread and limp. He smacked your hip lightly with one hand. “Roll over.”

In no mood to argue, you flipped willingly, ass up, plug still hidden from view. The lingerie was damp in some spots from where your wetness had spilled from your pussy. He leaned his mouth towards one of the strips of elastic stretching against the swell of your ass and bit. You gasped, back arching, and Katsuki smirked as he pulled away.

“A fucking lingerie line?”

A chuckle escaped your throat. “It was supposed to be a joke, but now…”

Katsuki pinched the elastic with his fingers and snapped it, watching the slight jiggle of your cheeks as you jolted. “No.”

“But Katsuki,” you whined.

“Mm,” he amended, as close to ‘maybe’ as you were going to get. You both could always talk about the idea—truly ridiculous idea—later. Katsuki put a hand on one cheek under the strips of lingerie and spread it.

There was the plug, a stainless steel handle. It was thin and shaped like an oblong donut, not like one of those cheap bejeweled things. This one, even just what he could see of it, screamed quality, and, for a moment, Bakugou wondered again what it would be like to wear. If you’d gotten it in, he sure as fuck could. And he did hold a certain anatomical advantage in using it.

He put his thumb and forefinger to the phalange and gave the toy a twist, pressing it just slightly deeper into your hole. You groaned, your voice low and deep in the pillow like when he gave you a back massage. He smirked and kept at it. Seemed this was a birthday gift for him after all.

“Katsu, don’t tease,” you moaned. “Sensitive.”

Bakugou, however, had no mercy. He flipped you over again, pulling a little yelp from you, and then picked you up bridal style, carrying you off the bed.

“Where are we going?” you asked, your voice suddenly much more awake.

“Shower,” he answered simply. He squeezed the meat of your upper thigh. Not quite your ass but close enough for the point to be made. “I’m not done with my present yet.”

#bakugou smut #bakugo smut #bnha smut #mha smut #tw: voyeurism #not/sfw #bakugou birthday bash

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

She’s Mine (Protective!Bakugou x Punk!Tattooed!Reader) feat. Erasermic

Warnings: racism, implied homophobia (not by anyone in the main cast), sexism, discrimination/discriminatory behavior, Modern!AU, Aged-Up!AU, features Bakugou’s parents, Erasermic, Kota, Eri, Mahoro, Katsuma and all of Class A defending you when insults start to fly.

Synopsis: This is not the first time you’re seeing Bakugou’s family but it is the first time you’re meeting his grandmother, who is not the best company to be around. He comes to your defense after you stand up for yourself and he had no qualms about sticking his face in the old hag’s because he’d be damned if he lets anyone talk to you like that. You’re his.

Words: 3.2k

“Y/N’s here!!!” Mitsuki called over her shoulder as she threw the front door wide open before you could even ring the doorbell.

Her son had texted her that you two were on their way and she was eager to see you. With the job and your relationship with her son, you two were busy bees and didn’t come around as often anymore.

Which is why she insisted that her stubborn son at least come around for his birthday since it only happened one day out of the year. Then he could continue doing whatever it was that he was doing.

Luckily, you were on her side and helped convince him to go just this once.

You laughed at the pitter-patter of tiny feet scampering across the cherry hardwood before dropping everything to catch the little kid that tunneled into your legs.

“Y/N!!! You’re back!!!”

Eri’s ruby red eyes sparkled with joy as she clung to your legs.

“I missed you!!!” She shouted excitedly, hugging your knees tight.

You giggled, resting a hand on top of her head. “I missed you too, munchkin.”

Bakugou snorted behind you and you were reminded of his presence. “Oi, brat. Are you going to let us in or what?”

Eri stuck her tongue out at him childishly before dashing back inside, a trick she learned from her big brother Izuku, doubling back to grab your hand and hauled you inside with her. You casted a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend but he shrugged, giving you the go-ahead.

He would catch up to you two troublemakers later. Besides, he knew you would want to see all the kids first.

Kota, an orphan whose extended family gave him up for adoption, along with the siblings, Mahoro and Katsuma, were all under Aizawa’s guardianship.

After he adopted Eri, it sort of just snowballed until he was in too deep. He told Mic repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault that he had a soft spot for orphans.

His husband had merely shook his head with a laugh and hoisted Katsuma up higher so that he could reach the cupcakes they were going to sneak behind his back before dinner.

Mitsuki closed the door behind him as her son kicked off his shoes.

“She gets that from me.” She said proudly as she gazed lovingly at Eri. She loved having her around the house.

Since Aizawa and Mic lived relatively close, they came over often since she was feeling rather lonely with an empty nest.

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

His mother glared at him for his language but didn’t reprimand him like she normally would and his eyes turned into hateful slits.

“Don’t tell me—” He started, gritting his teeth.

“They’re here.” She said with a heavy sigh.

Bakugou cursed vehemently under his breath, his brow furrowing deeply as he fought to control himself. He was banking on them not making an appearance today.

His grandparents on his dad’s side, though he adored his grandad and thought the world of him, he absolutely could not stand his grandmother.

She was racist, sexist, had limited views on literally everything and would raise hell if she didn’t get her way and she was a huge pain in his ass.

Even his own mother couldn’t stand her and that was saying something because she tolerated everyone to some degree, despite her odd love language when it came to him.

They were both shit at communicating but it had gotten better as he got older.

Now, the worst things that happened were spats here and there when they disagreed but his mother was usually good about backing off if she felt he could make the right decision for himself, which wasn’t often but it was better than none.

Bakugou strolled inside and his eyes softened for a second when he saw you playing with Mahoro, Kota sitting on your lap as Eri was climbing all over Midoriya. You four were currently playing Monopoly and Eri exclaiming in shock as she realized she was losing since the devious Kota was slowly claiming more and more property.

“Haha!!” He cackled, rubbing his hands together evilly. “You landed on the purple one!!”

“No fair!!” Eri protested. “I don’t have enough money!!!”

“Too bad!!”

“Deku-niichan.” Eri cried, her eyes watering and you nearly fell over laughing as he frantically tried to get her to stop crying.

The rest of his old class from college was already here, as per his mother’s request and Kirishima’s invitation.

Shinsou, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida were all near the food, the previous class rep serving drinks even though it wasn’t his job to play host.

Tokoyami was currently engaged in a conversation with his dad and as Bakugou spun around the room, he realized every last one of his old classmates had shown up.

It was fucking crowded in his house.

But the spark of joy he felt diminished the instant he saw his grandmother and he scowled, straying to your side almost protectively as her eyes burned into his back.

This.

This was why he didn’t fucking want her here. He didn’t want her to rain judgement upon the person who had won over his heart.

No way in hell.

Look, you weren’t fragile by any means. Your heart was filled with a healthy amount of self-esteem and you had built up your walls to protect yourself against people who had something to say about your many tattoos or piercings, yet you still were the kindest soul he had ever met.

It was in the way you walked and interacted with people, a genuine smile always present on your features as you gave them more respect than most would give you upon first glance.

Bakugou knew you could handle yourself but you shouldn’t have to with his own fucking relatives. That shit was messed up.

You glanced at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye and your gaze dropped down to where his hands were clenched into fists, jaw locked tight and you sigh, softly urging Kota to get up and continue playing with Mahoro and Katsuma until you got back.

The boy grumbled but did as you asked, easily getting swept up in the competition of the game as you drifted to Bakugou’s side.

“I know that look,” You murmured into his ear, your hand covering his as you ignored the idle chatter coming from your friends and family around you. “What’s wrong?”

Bakugou clenched his teeth and debated about it for a second.

“Nothing.” He spat out eventually, choosing to deal with the old hag himself and you let him go when he stomped off, knowing that Kirishima or Kaminari would handle whatever it was that just happened if he didn’t want to talk to you about it.

Momo greeted you warmly and a smile slipped onto your face as though it had never left.

You hadn’t bothered to dress all that nice or different from your usual getup, feeling more comfortable in leather and all black that looked like you just came from a rock concert but you got the feeling that not everyone was feeling it as much as Jirou was when she came over to compliment you on your fashion taste.

Shoji and Koda each greeted you respectively and before you knew it, the catered dinner arrived and it was finally time to eat. The judging look you had been aware of from someone you didn’t recognize passing by as you brushed it off as unimportant and focused on helping Mitsuki set the table.

You clapped your hands gleefully when Eri pitched in to help, complimenting her on how well of a job she did as she finished and you beamed at her when she smiled up at you.

Of course, Aizawa needed to help her since he didn’t want her to stand on a chair and lose her balance but it was easy enough to lift her up. She wasn’t that big yet.

He had already told Mic he was dreading the day when she would grow up and have to leave home to start her own life and his husband patted him on the back sympathetically, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

They loved their children and their children absolutely adored them.

You had told them as such on more than one occasion since they got insecure that they weren’t adequate parents but you reassured them that they were perfectly imperfect.

They put their kids’ health, safety and happiness before everything else and did everything they could for them.

You wished your own parents had done that for you.

As soon as you set down the place settings for everyone and called everyone in for dinner, they flooded the huge dining table that overflowed into the living area to accommodate everyone.

Bakugou had left for a second to grab something from his old bedroom, promising to be back right away and you reassured him that you would be fine.

You were barely into helping Mic convince a stubborn Kota to take a spoonful of green beans onto his plate, Shinsou helping Aizawa with Mahoro’s vegetable serving, when a throat cleared itself loudly.

The lively chatter died all around the table died down as grey eyes pierced your own and you stiffened but held your ground.

You knew that look, you had seen it too many times.

The older woman opened her mouth and spoke.

“So, you’re my grandson’s girlfriend?” She enunciated, looking you up and down from where she was sitting at the head of the table, her hands setting down her knitting project to glare at you. “I don’t see why he’s dating you.”

The expressions of shock at her vulgar words made several of your friends angry in your defense, Iida and Todoroki trembling in anger and Mina’s eyes narrowed as she dropped her happy-go-lucky personality in favor of ripping her a new one.

But before any of them could act, she was continuing evenly.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to dress properly and looks like that, I mean, it’s already bad enough that your skin is that color, my dear, and you’ve ruined it even further with those ugly things.” She spat, unaware of the wrath she was evoking from every single person in the room.

Kaminari’s electric eyes glowed as he saw red. “Bad enough?”

“Excuse me?” Shoji seethed with unparalleled anger rising up in his chest, a rare sight for the normally calm and collected man.

Jirou, Ochako and Momo were furious at the way she was talking down to you and they shared a look amongst themselves, communicating wordlessly that this wasn’t going to be allowed to get out of hand any longer.

Kirishima was visibly shaking and even the normally shy Koda was fuming in his seat, openly glaring at the elderly woman who spewed insults at you.

A chair scraped back as Midoriya shot up but you shook your head, holding your finger up to your lips as you subtly gestured for everyone to hold back.

Aizawa’s nostrils flared from where he was covering Eri’s ears while several of his former students took care of the rest of the kids to make sure they wouldn’t hear this.

To their horror, the grandmother wasn’t even close to being done as she pointed a gnarly finger at you.

“Your job as a girl is to stay in the kitchen and attend to your husband. To even think you’re worth anything if you weren’t involved with my grandson is absurd.” She hissed at you venously, her skewed ideals rooted deeply in her beliefs and how she was raised. “You are a disgrace to even breathe the same air as someone like me.”

“Mother!!”

Bakugou’s father frantically tried to amend what had been done and Mitsuki was about to yell at her but you stopped her.

Everyone’s eyes turned on you as you took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I won’t apologize for being who I am.” You said quietly but firmly, failing to notice someone coming down the stairs and overhearing your steady words as they flowed from your lips like honey.

Not tricks. Just genuine sympathy, like you didn’t even hear her say all those horrible things to you.

It was supposed to be your boyfriend’s day and you weren’t going to ruin it for him in the same manner that she had just done.

“I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you think that we should be allowed to love who we love?”

You inclined your head slightly, allowing a sliver of the emotion you felt to slip onto your face as you glanced pointedly as Aizawa and Mic.

After you noticed her staring so openly at you, you also noticed that she would scowl whenever the two men would walk in the room and play with their kids and while you would take whatever she was going to throw at you, you weren’t going to tolerate the same for them.

They didn’t deserve that.

Holding up your arm, you inspected the ink running up and down the length of it. “As for my appearance, my style is my own. I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

There were a couple of snickers from Jirou, Kaminari, Sero and Mineta as you put her in his place and Todoroki leaned back in his seat, gazing up at you proudly as you stood your ground without firing any hate back at the old woman.

Hagakure clapped her hands jubilantly as a few cheers of agreement sounded around from the table but you had one more thing to say.

Your eyes softened. “I understand how you may feel about me, but I don’t need your acceptance. I love myself just as I am and if Katsuki ever feels differently about me and we split, then we’ll split. But please do not judge my love for him based on how you believe I should be. I am who I am and I won’t ever apologize for that.”

“And you never fucking have to.”

Bakugou strolled into the dining area, smirking at the old hag who had the nerve to look shocked at his appearance. Of course she would be so fucking disgusting to say something this horrible to you when he wasn’t within earshot.

Bitch.

Blood relations didn’t excuse behavior.

Narrowing his vermilion eyes at his grandmother, he faced her head on as he took your hand into his.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” He declared, tenacity and stubbornness dripping off of his tone as he snarled at his grandmother. “And if you ever speak to her like that again—”

He nodded in time to Mic and Aizawa, the men who had mentored him and taught him almost everything he knew.

“Or either of them, including the rest of these shitheads, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The veiled threat hung in the air and you squeaked as Bakugou abruptly dragged you to the front door.

“Where are you going?!” Mitsuki cried out, worried that you both were going to leave without eating anything and she was sad to think that her mother-in-law had driven you away.

Bakugou gnashed his teeth at the confused clamour that arose from his classmates. “Out!! We’ll be back later!!”

You could hardly get a word in edgewise as he dragged you all the way out to the car after barely giving you enough time to put on your shoes.

“Katsuki!! What—”

Your bewildered protests were interrupted as he whirled around and kissed you hard. You melted into his touch as his hot palms settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him. Whining softly when he pulled away, you panted as he breathed hard against you, his exhales fanning out over your face.

You were in a daze as he led you to the car, buckling you in before he got in the driver’s seat.

And he drove, taking a detour that would take him towards the countryside where there were no people, no places, just you and him.

Just how he liked it.

The painted lavenders and pale pinks of the setting sun faded to midnight black with stars twinkling high above you as you cruised around for hours before he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quietly and you immediately grabbed his hand that wasn’t currently occupied with steering.

“No!! You don’t have anything to apologize for—”

“Yes I do.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel a fraction as he slowly explained that if he had told you earlier about what she was capable of instead of ranting to his best friend like an idiot, maybe he could’ve—

“Katuski.”

Your soft murmur brought him back down to planet Earth and you shook your head firmly.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him without wavering once as he brought the car to a stop just at the edge of the trail. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Bakugou slammed his hand against the steering wheel angrily. “Yes it fucking is!!!”

He ranted and he ranted about how he had come downstairs only to hear his own flesh and blood spitting those vile insults that you didn’t deserve at all.

You didn’t deserve it at all.

You were quiet when he finished and when his chest was heaving with the spent rage he had aired out, you asked, “Feel better?”

“Like hell I do!!!” He snapped at you, about to go off again when he noticed the bemused expression on your face. “What the fuck, dumbass?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Why the hell aren’t you bothered at all?” He questioned, genuinely flabbergasted.

Eyes clearing in understanding, you traced the back of his hand with your fingers. “Because it doesn’t bother me.”

At the sight of Bakugou opening his mouth, you hurried out, “I mean, do you really think someone like that gets to cut me down? Her words don’t mean anything to me.”

You hesitated and opened yourself a little bit, trusting him not to take advantage of your weakness because while her words stung in the moment, it was nothing your heart couldn’t come back from. But…

“If you were to say them, it would hurt a lot more, but I don’t think you would— eep!!”

You yelped as he dragged you over to his seat, yanking at the seatbelt that got in the way, but pulled you to his chest once he released the safety clip.

“Never.” He breathed against your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I would fucking never.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

There, in his car, you two stayed in a tight embrace under the stars until you it got late enough that you insisted you should go back and at least spend the rest of the time with your friends, which, if their sleeping schedules hadn’t changed since college, there was a good chance almost all of them would still be up.

So Bakugou drove you both back, his heart a little more at ease after he got to hold you close and be alone with you.

That was all he wanted.

Well… He thought to himself as he unconsciously brushed his left hand over the small velvet box that had been hastily stuffed in his pocket the second he grabbed it from his room.

That and one other thing.

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hoedorokishoto · 3 years

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MHA Characters when you are pregnant/Dads.

Dedicated to my very best friend who is having a hard time at the moment, and I thought some headcannons of dilf my hero characters would cheer her up.

Eijiro Kirishima

The cryer.

Crys when you are having sex to get pregnant, crys when the test is positive, crys while you are vomiting in the toilet and crys when your jeans stop fitting because of your bump.

Assures you that crying is manly and sticks by that.

Fusses over you as soon as you find out, even putting foam bumpers on tables and corners so you do not hurt yourself or your growing bump.

Is so excited to tell his friends. Calling Bakugo immediately after finding out, the pee was still warm on the stick as he dialed.

Yelled into the phone with just random words that had something to do with babies. No actual sentences.

Watches in awe of your body and how it changes. Loves all the stretch marks that you may grow.

Thinks growing a human is the most amazing thing anyone has ever done. Constantly asking weird anatomy related questions.

On that note says things like, “Babe, can you believe my cum helped make this tiny human growing in your stomach!”

As your due date gets closer, watches you like a hawk. Any slight noise you make, makes him thinks it go time. Already at the door with your bags and your just like “I literally yawned.”

When you do go into labour, he is right there next to you. Holding you close as he sits behind you, holding your legs back, your head rolled back and rested against his shoulder.

“You are doing amazing baby.” “God, I fucking love you.” “You are already the best mum in the whole world.”

Crys as soon as your baby is born, crys with you as he leans his head on your shoulder and watches you and your baby have skin to skin.

You wake up to him holding your only hours old baby. Whispering to them how much he loves them and nothing bad is ever going to happen to them and that they are the best thing he has ever done.

Katsuki Bakugo

Gloats when you tell him you are pregnant. “Of course you got pregnant the first time, I’m the best.”

Even though he leaves the room with the biggest goofiest smile on his face.

The night you both find out he starts sleeping with his arm around you and his hand firmly cradling your stomach.

Wakes up before you every morning and makes you food, then hold your hair back as you vomit said food into the toilet.

Complains to no end. But never leaves your side and rubs your back as he puts a cold washer on your forehead. Wiping vomit and spit away from your face.

“We have to tell that old hag! She has been bugging us about having a brat since our first date.” He would say even though he is beyond excited to finally tell his parents.

“I’ve never been more excited! I knew you had it in ya!” This leads to dinner being over and the two blonds yelling back and forth.

Masaru just sits next to you and offers you some tea as his wife and son bicker. Both of you used to it by now.

You tell all his friends eventually. “Congratulation Kacchan!” “Shut up Deku, don’t talk too loud around my unborn child. I don’t want them to catch being a loser!” Even though you see the small hug he accepts out of the corner of your eye.

Keep his phone close to him regardless of what he is doing. Does not want to miss any videos or picture you might send of you bump. Or in case something happens.

Always brings home snacks that you crave. From gummy bears to celery. You name it he buys it. Again he complains and pretends you annoy him but he would do absolutely anything for you.

Wakes you up unintentionally in the middle of the night by spontaneously putting baby furniture together. Pre parental panic finally hitting him as he hammers different pieces of wood together.

“Tsuki? Are you gonna come to bed?”

“I can’t! I’ve got to get this together and then I’ve got to fireproof everything in case the kid gets my quirk and then……”

“Fireproof? You think it’s just gonna blast its way out of me and already have a quirk?” You laughed.

He smiles, finally calming down. Then gets mad again and says not to make fun of him.

Your due date finally comes and still nothing. Even after eating multiple pineapples, bouncing on many exercise balls and having as much sex as you could manage there was still no baby.

10 days later your water breaks and you rush to the hospital.

The baby getting stuck on the way down. Being as stubborn as their father.

You had to be rushed for a C-section. Katsuki never leaving your side. Refusing to go anywhere even as they prepped you.

He looks very good in scrubs.

He stroked your face as he sat next to your head, the large curtain covering anything too gory from both of you.

Flinches when he hears the first cry, looks into your eyes and presses his forehead against yours.

“You did it Teddy bear. You are so fucking tough.”

Let’s a tear slip as he watches the baby get weighted.

Cuts the cord and watched the tiny little human you have made in awe.

He always though he was born to be a hero. Now he thinks he was put here to do this, be the best dad that he can be for his little brat.

Shota Aizawa

Being a dad falls into his lap accidently both times.

First with Eri and second with your 2-year-old daughter.

You met in the girl’s section of a clothing store, him holding up 2 equally as ugly sweaters and looking very confused.

You and your daughter walked up to him and offered him a hand and the rest is history.

Doesn’t know how he got so lucky to have 3 girls that he adores more than anyone else.

Can’t comprehend that anyone would want to treat you or your daughter badly and makes it his mission to treat you right every single day, so you forget all about the past.

Activates his quirk, his hair floating around his face and watches your daughter yell and laugh as she runs around and gets caught up in his capture scarf, Shota just catching her before she hits the floor.

Let’s both the girl’s braid and put bows in his long hair and blush on his cheeks.

You have photos but have been threatened that if anyone sees them, he will have to take drastic action.

Loves watching Eri and your daughter play together. Singing songs and hugging each other as you dance around the living room.

Takes the girls to U.A. to meet his students. All the students cooing over them, saying how cute they are. Midoriya making both of them candy apples as Mirio picks you both up and puts you on his shoulders.

You both fit it. It’s like you were the missing piece and now he is whole.

Starts to think that maybe it’s a good time to give the girls a sibling.

You agree but, in the meantime, you adopt 2 cats, both of them making themselves at home rather quickly.

Shota will forever be thankful that he picked up those 2 ugly sweaters as he looks at his bed which is currently occupied by his 2 daughters, 2 cats and you. Lightly snoring, small hand over your swollen stomach.

#shota aizawa #katsuki bakugo #eijiro kirishima #mha #bnha #bakugo x reader #kirishima x reader #aizawa x reader #mha x reader

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notdonesimpin · 3 years

Text

Point Of View ~k.b.~

katsuki bakugou x gn!reader

warnings: fluff

synopsis: no one believes that katsuki is a good boyfriend until they see if for themselves AKA the three times people how sweet bakugou can be.

a/n: ah so i’ve neglected bnha quite a bit.. debated keeping this to myself but everyone needs a bit of soft and respectful bakugou. hope you enjoy :)

You weren’t oblivious to the worry and concern in people’s eyes when you told them that Bakugou was your boyfriend. The two most infamous things said in response were: “You’re joking, right?” and “Are you okay? Does he get violent with you?”

It was quite frustrating to reassure people that being with him was okay. You know he's a good guy. Why does everyone assume that he’d be a shitty boyfriend? Why doesn’t Bakugou want other people to see the more tame side of him that he’d developed the past two years you’d been together?

Everyone learned to just take your word for it, though they’d never really seen him be affectionate with you. That’s why it was so shocking once they actually saw the true nature of your relationship with him.

1: Your Parents

“Bakugo!” your little sister yelled, running up to hold onto his leg.

His eyes widened as he looked down at her, confused as to where she came from. “Hey, Rugrat. What are you doing running around by yourself?”

“Mom and Dad are over there!” she points to a store in the distance and continues talking, “Are you here with my sibling?”

She stepped back, grabbing onto his extended hand as they walked towards your parents.

“Not right now. They’re here somewhere with their friends.”

“I thought you were their friend,” she pouted, “Are you guys not friends anymore?”

Bakugou sighed, “I’m a different kind of friend, Rugrat.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tenshi! There you are!” your mom says, rushing over to the two of them.

“She saw me and ran over. Sorry about that,” Bakugou awkwardly scratched the back of his head, feeling uncomfortable with the apology passing through his lips.

“She must really like you, then. She never does this with anyone,” you mom notes, slightly impressed that he won your sister over within a few short months.

He softly smiles, looking down at her, “I think we just understand each other.”

“You still haven’t told me what’s so different about you being friends with Y/N!” she points at him.

He squats down to chat with her, “It’s the kind of friend that gets to hang out with a cool kid like you in their free time.”

“That’s the best!” she exclaims.

Bakugou’s phone buzzes, and he pulls it out to see a text from you that asked where he was. “I have to go, but I’ll see you at your birthday party.”

“Promise?” She sticks out her pinky.

“Promise.”

He clasps his pinky who hers quickly before getting up and saying a quick goodbye to your mother and rushing off.

Tenshi grabbed your mother’s hand as they watched him.

You came into view with a few bags on your arms and he immediately took them from you despite your apparent protest and gave you a quick kiss before walking in the opposite direction.

Your mother realized that she may have had the wrong idea about Bakugo this entire time.

2: Class 1-A

“How are you not sore from weight training yesterday?” you whine as you both walk towards the classroom.

“I train all the time. You just aren’t used to it,” he smirks, nudging you slightly with his arm.

“Whatever. You didn’t even go easy on me, a beginner.”

“I’ve never gone easy on you. Why would I start now?”

“Fair point,” you shrug as you walk through the classroom door and all eyes immediately fall on the two of you.

“There’s the cutest couple in school!” Mina exclaims.

You both look at her bewildered by her statement.

“I didn’t know Bakugou actually had a heart,” Iida muttered, looking at something on Kirishima’s desk.

“What did you do?” Bakugou whispers with a hint of agitation in his voice.

“I didn’t do anything. I have no clue what they’re talking about!”

“Kirishima saw you guys at the New Year’s Festival. He took a really cute picture of you guys!” Kaminari explained, walking over to show you both the picture on his phone.

You both looked at it to see your little sister, Tenshi, on his shoulders with a smile on her face as she pointed at one of the booths. Bakugo had one hand keeping her stable on his shoulder and the other was laced with yours. He had a large smile on his face as if he was laughing at something you said.

“What were you guys talking about?” Mina asks.

“None of your fucking business,” Bakugou grumbled, pushing past all of them to his seat with you in tow as he continued, “If you ask us another question, I will kill all of you.”

“Bakubro, they wouldn’t let you kill us even if you wanted to,” Kirishima laughed.

“You even gave them your jacket!” Sero exclaimed, “I remember when you tried to fight me for even trying to borrow a blanket when we were in your room!”

“He can’t let his precious girl get cold,” Kaminari sang.

Bakugou grumbled, crossing his arms as he sat down, knowing that anything he said would only fuel the fire.

3: His Parents

“Holy shit!” you exclaimed as your umbrella bent backwards, officially breaking after three long years of service.

The rain didn’t even have a chance to touch your body before Bakugo quietly handed his umbrella over to you, taking the broken one from you. “Don’t need you catching a cold.”

As soon as you took it from him, he took his jacket off and wrapped it around your backpack. He forced your broken one closed and held onto it to throw away later.

“Katsuki, you’re going to get soaked,” you tried to argue.

“I’ll be fine. My backpack is waterproof.”

“At least get under the umbrella. What if you catch a cold?”

“It isn’t big enough to even cover your backpack, dumbass. I’ll be fine. I haven’t gotten sick in years.”

“I’ll just put my hood on until we get to your house and then walk home from there with the umbrella.”

“Not happening, I’m taking you home. I can’t let you walk by yourself.”

Thirty minutes later, Bakugou walked through the door absolutely soaked from head to toe with two broken umbrellas in his hand and his jacket wrapped around his waist..

He let out a huge sigh as he dropped his backpack and took off his shoes.

“Katsuki, I need-” Mitsuki’s eyes widened as she looked at him.”Go get out of those clothes and take a shower! You’re going to catch a cold in those if you stay in them any longer!”

“You don’t have to yell, you old hag!” he snapped as he walked to the bathroom.

After he showered and put on some warmer clothes, he was met with the curious eyes of his mother and father as he took his towels and clothes to the washing machine.

“What?” he questioned, pausing on his way.

“You had two broken umbrellas and were absolutely soaked. What happened?”

“Y/N’s umbrella broke, so I gave them mine. It’s too small to do anything but cover their body, so I wrapped my jacket around their backpack so their stuff didn’t get wet. I was soaked by the time we got to their house, so there was no point in putting my jacket back on, but I promised them that I’d use the umbrella on the way back and it broke from the wind.”

Their jaws dropped.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he grumbled and justified himself, “I didn’t want them getting sick. They don't take good care of themself when they feel bad. Can I go to my room?”

“Yeah, yeah. We’ll let you know when dinner’s ready,” Masaru said.

Katsuki walks off without another word.

The next morning, Mitsuki was yelling at Katsuki to get up from the other side of the house, but she wasn’t getting the usual response back.

She paused outside his door when he heard the low murmur of his voice as if he was on the phone and slowly cracked the door open.

“Do you want me to come over?” she heard you ask.

“No, I can’t take care of you and me. If you catch my cold, you won’t eat like you’re supposed to. I swear you’re like an annoying little child when you’re sick.”

“Always so mean,” you laugh, “I can take care of myself, Katsuki.”

“I know you can, but I want to take care of you, so shut up,” he coughed, “And don’t hang up on me until you are inside of the school safe!”

“I feel so bad. You got sick because of me.”

“Well, make it up to me by kicking ass in class today, okay?”

“Don’t I always?” you tease, causing him to softly laugh.

Mitsuki smiled to herself as she quietly closed the door, hoping that you’d be in her son’s life forever.

#katsuki bakugo #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo #katsuki #mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #bakugou katsuki x you #katsuki bakugo x you #mha masterfind

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katsukikitten · 3 years

Text

Part one, no real warnings yet. Enjoy!

Bakugou's personal phone rings from the pocket of his hero costume for the umpteenth causing his skin to pop. All the while Kirishima allows his ruby gaze to fall over the hot head, having a good guess about just who is blowing up his phone. Worry snatches at Kirishima's heart for a moment forcing the question from his lips, even if it meant regretting it.

"Are you sure your mom is okay?" Bakugou freezes in his step, inclining his head to fix a garnet glare at his so called friend. He sucks in a breath to yell, body tense and in a fighting stance before his phone blares again.

"FUCK!" He shouts into the night with only Kirishima and the moon to hear. The trees swallow his frustration as he rips his phone from his pocket, answering it so harshly the LCD beneath the screen ruptures.

"What?! What the fuck do you want you God Damn hag?! I'm WORKING! Saving LIVES!" It had been a long time since he had called his mother hag, long enough there was silence on the other line for a moment.

Then much like her son she takes a deep breath and now Kirishima, the moon and the trees know why Mitsuki was calling at such a late hour. Kirishima sighs with relief nothing is so dire as life and death, although for Mitsuki it is.

"IF YOU DON'T BRING THIS GHOST OF A GIRLFRIEND OF YOURS I SWEAR TO KAMISAMI THERE WILL BE NO MORE NUMBER ONE HERO WHEN IM THROUGH WITH YOU. IM GETTING OLD I NEED FUCKING GRANDKIDS. THINK OF YOUR SWEET OLD FATHER HE AIN'T GETTING ANY FUCKING YOUNGER!"

"That's what this was about?! Ma for the last fucking time I don't-"

"You don't what? One of those hoes you sleep with has to like even your rude ass. Bring a decent one home." And with that Bakugou is left with the sound of three tones and a ringing in his ear. He grips the bridge of his nose, having no earthly idea of how to get his mother off of his back, let alone find a woman. The phone rings in his hand again, the screen filled with dead pixels and rainbow lines causing him hot to be able to see. Somehow it registers his touch as he goes from memory to answer.

"What you fucking hag?!" He screams into the receiver.

"Wow. Rude." You reply with a bite, "Just calling to tell you boss that I'm clocking out, dickhead."

"I-I thought you were my mom."

"Oh and that makes it better?" What an ass!

"Fuck you." He growls, looking at Kirishima's watch, "You're clocking out way too early."

"No, fuck you. I requested to be off by this time MONTHS ago. You can ask Eijirou-san, you approved it so he made the schedule accordingly." You quip, twirling one of your knives in your hands, "Besides I've been working waaay too long today. Oh and I found that perp hours ago."

"What the fuck?! Why didn't you tell me hours ago?"

"I fucking tried, you ignored my call. This was my third attempt." You slam the knife through the paperwork on your desk wishing it were the hot head's thigh. You rise as your eyes glance over the clock. If you didn't hurry this stupid phone call up, you were going to be late. You needed to sneak in before midnight.

"Still too early for you. Normally you want the OT." He bites, causing you to roll your eyes.

Gods you hated this guy.

"Yea, well tonight is different." You'd pay in the long run for leaving so soon but tonight was special. She asked you to be there the last time you saw her and you promised.

You never break a fucking promise.

"Some subordinate you are bitch face." He growls then an idea pops into his head.

Subordinate.

As in you reported to him, as in Bakugou Katsuki was your boss. And well you had to listen to your boss to some extent and he knew you needed money, you tell him day in and day out it's the only reason you would even dream to work with him.

Although he has no idea why you are so hard out for cash.

So he sets the bait, offering you a deal you can't refuse.

"Tomorrow is your planned day off right?"

"Yea what fucking of it?!"

"I've got a special mission for you-"

"No." You interrupt, already feeling the exhaustion of your seventy hour work week stacking up.

"You didn't even let me finish you ungrateful brat. It will be three times your pay for half a day's work. Cold hard cash." The other side of the line goes silent. Licking your lips you think over his offer, fuck, that would actually help get your head above water.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

If only you knew how dark this tunnel was going to be.

"Fine. I'll take your stupid fucking offer."

"Promise?" His voice sounds a bit different, a little bit of a tease to it, as if he knows something you don't.

"What are we in kindergarten. Yea I promise, fucking headass." With that you hang up, rushing down the steps of the agency building and into the cold air.

Your phone buzzes with a text

BakaBoss: Meet me at the agency, 11am sharp.

You roll your eyes, turning your phone to silent as you watch the nightly set of nurses do their normal routine. Barely making it in time for the security guard and head nurse to make their way outside by the one way back door for a smoke. Both too lazy to walk around to the front of the hospital, sticking a thin splintering wood block between the jam and the door, giving you easy access to the stairwell. When they were far enough away you slip into the door, sure to place the wood where they left it before climbing the stairs two at a time, racing the clock at the top half of the 11th hour. The janitor would have already mopped her floor and the only nurse on floor six was currently on the ground level half way through the small tobacco stick, she wouldn't be sticking her head into room 609 anytime soon.

You draw in a deep breath, collecting yourself and forcing back the tears as you picked the lock, a skill set that not only were you amazing at but the very same skill that landed you here.

And by here you mean stupid ass hero work all thanks to some "reforming" program by Izuku Miydoria. Still it was better than having to break out of jail in order to make cash, her bills weren't going to pay themself.

You stick a stolen credit card in between the door jab and the door, right at the locking mechanism, although you could break out of just about anywhere, this would be the faster method of escape.

"Hey, sis, I made it!" You say softly but with excitement, watching as she keeps her back to you. Her eyes wide from a mixed cocktail of chemicals and trauma, she stares out into the sky, counting the stars.

It would be one of those nights where she was too warped to tell you were there. With a sigh you sink onto her mattress. If you could even fucking call it that. It was more like a box spring with a fitted sheet over top of it, you were still figuring out how you could sneak a mattress in.

"I got you something." You say crawling to sit next to her cross legged, she turns to you and it's like looking in a mirror. Except one of you is covered in visible scars and the other is not. Hers are more than skin deep. Seeing her dull gaze never gets any easier, she stares through you for a long time before she does as she always does.

Lifting her hand gently to cup your cheek so her thumb can slide over your scar.

"How'd you get this?" Her voice is barely hers and it grabs a fist full of your guts pulling them downward. Everytime she asks that question you see the shine of a blade, a swipe of a strong hand and vision filled with blood.

Yours, there's but never hers. You like to tell yourself that's what counts but maybe you had a hand in breaking her.

You clear your throat, pulling a bag onto your lap.

"Nevermind that." You gently guide her hand away from your cheek and to her lap. When she makes no motion for the gift bag you force a smile as icy guilt collects in your chest.

"It's for our birthday silly! Can you believe we are 26 today?" You place the pillow on her lap and her hands slowly go to the plush material.

For a moment she has returned, flashing you a smile as she pushing into the soft material before she flickers out again. Like a light with just enough current to wink in and out of existence.

Time passes and the clock strikes midnight, white clad shoes stomp against the polished floor signaling it was time to leave.

"I'll try to see you soon okay?" You lean over kissing her hairline before grabbing at the old, flat pillow. Shoving it into the gift bag as you silently bound the room. Pushing the door open slightly as you slip the stolen card into the back pocket of your black jeans. With that you are down the hall and through the backdoor without raising any sort of alarm as usual.

Suddenly your phone weighs heavy in your pocket as you think of what kind of stupid errand that asshole was going to put you on. The stolen card sings in your pocket, begging to be used. So you slip into a bar to give it a good use.

&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*&*

A blaring alarm yanks you from the bed in a sweating panic. Knife instinctively slashing the air before you send the blade into yet another digital alarm clock. Falling back into the mattress for just a moment's peace.

That peace doesn't last long once you show up at the agency. If anything is sours as you see Bakugou leaning against the bright white brick and in civilian clothes no less.

"What's this?" You pick at his black dress shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showcasing his banded forearms. He's paired it with a pair of black jeans, one knee ripped. Oddly it looks good together. Not overly dressed nor too dressed down. His vermilion eyes glide over your figure in your black body con hero suit. He sucks his teeth, hating this next part.

"Called clothes dumbass. Speaking of we need to get you something fitting."

"For what? What exactly is this 'mission'?"

"I'll debrief you later. Right now we need to get you new clothes." You laugh in his face before your rich expression turns deadly

"With what money?"

"Calm down, it's my treat Princess." He says with satire, the name sits odd on his tongue and even more odd in your stomach. He snatches at your wrist, "Come on before the stores get crowded and we get noticed."

You find yourself in a shop filled with dresses and fancy blouses. All of which you hate. Bakugou seems to hate them too, too guady for his taste. Still he shifts through the soft silks because he knows his mother will love it.

"Oi, you can't find a single decent thing here? I thought women loved shopping."

"Yea for shit we like asshole." You hiss to him, having only found a pair of dark blue jean's.

"Heh." He scoffs, rolling his eyes until he finds the perfect top. It looks decent and it could be your style. The one thing he learned about being undercover was to not stray too far from what looked natural or from the truth.

"Put this on. While I find a necklace." He shoves the silky top into your hands and you look at the price tag. Suddenly anxiety burns in the soles of your feet soaring up to close your throat.

"Bakugou. This is too much." Katsuki stops to glance over his shoulder, this is the first time you've used his name since he hired you three years ago. He sees your hand gripping at your bicep and he watches the rare tell sign that you're nervous as you chew on one of the scars that creeps onto your lip. He comes up to you, closer than he ever has been before, your senses flood with spiced caramel.

"Oi." His voice is smooth, almost soft as he touches a ringed index finger to your forearm. You fixate on the shining black ring and your old habits have you thinking of six different ways to get it off of his finger. The thought soothes you as much as his voice surprisingly does.

"I said I'm buying, remember you brat?" The teasing returns back to his voice before it turns gruff, "Now go change to make sure I like it. I'll be back in a second."

A woman unlocks a small dressing room for you and once inside you hold your breath. Counting as you remind yourself that you cannot and will not steal anything of value while your boss was here.

If you were any other person you would tap this Prohero's account dry, really rack up that platinum card you know sat in his wallet and sell the clothes marked up for a profit later.

But even as much as you hated Bakugou, you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

Instead you slip into the the outfit adjusting yourself this way in that as the neckline says enough without saying too much. The jeans curving against your figure in such a way doing as good as a job as your hero suit. You keep your steel toed boots as you step into the small hall with the three mirrors. As you turn this way and that Bakugou appears behind you, almost earning a knife to his gut. He forces the silver blade away before pulling out a necklace from a bag he just bought. The gold chain is dainty, going through the top of the garnet making it seen as if it were a suspended droplet of blood.

It marches the eyes that roll over you as he takes a step back before his harsh mouth breathes out a word.

"Fuck."

Instantly it kills your mood as your lip pulls back over sharp teeth.

"Tsk. It's not that bad, God how do you get any pussy." You grumble, smoothing down the black blouse.

"No, dumbass. You look...you look perfect." He stares into your eyes through the mirror, his smile growing wider as they wander over your scars and finally land onto that minimalistic drop pendant necklace.

Over something you've never been able to have, something you always had to swipe from an unsuspecting neck and then pawn.

"Now. I'm going to tell you here, in this store of crowded people so you don't cause a scene."

"What?!" Anger already begins to bubble in your blood. The blades that kiss your flesh start to scream for relief.

"From now on you have to pretend to be my girlfriend. Paparazzi are starting to swarm outside of this fucking boutique and my mom follows this particular trash tabloid since they love to use me as click bait. You just have to make it through dinner tonight and if shit goes south I'll pay you even more."

#bnha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha au #katsuki x reader #bakugou x you

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doki-doki-imagines · 3 years

Text

Gintoki & Kamui transformed into dogs

Sakata Gintoki:

-As always something went wrong with his actual work and some old hag transformed him into a dog. -He didn't understand he become a dog until a boy screamed at his mom "how cute is that samoyed! Can we get it?!" -No -Gintoki is a free dog, he doesn't need anybody, he's gonna solve the problem by himself! -"Ohhhh you're so cute~" -Ohhhh, his partner. Gintoki isn't a free dog, he is a couch dog, his partner's couch to be specific. -It didn't take much coaxing to convince his partner to take him home with them. -"Just for today, okay? Then we will search for your owner." -He just arrived and he's already treated like a king. "Maybe I should remain a dog forever" Gintoki thinks -They don't have dog food at home, but they dealt with dogs before so they know what a dog can and cannot eat. -Let's just say that the food that Gintoki is eating right now is better than most of his usual meals. -He gets cuddles, cuddles and even more cuddles. He can go in the bathroom when his partner is there and won't be called a pervert. -He doesn't have to work, nobody is gonna ask to pay the rent. -Dog’s life is the best. -"No! You can't eat sweets, they are toxic for you! Don't give me sweet eyes I'm not gonna give you my chocolate!" -Dog's life is shit. -At that point it's already night, his partner is in bed, him next to them. -"I really liked having you here, tomorrow we'll have to search for your owner...maybe I should buy a dog too, I'm sure Gintoki will like it too!" -No. Sadaharu is enough a pain in the ass and he doesn't need another, but for now, the only thing he can do is getting even near them with a sad look in his eyes. -"Ohhh are you sad dear? You must miss them a lot mh? C'mon get under the blankets, for tonight I'm gonna let you." -And who is Gintoki to say no? Tomorrow he'll have to run around the town to search for that hag and he is already tired, better sleep now. -"G-Gintoki?!? What are you doing here??" -Mh? He hoped to be greeted by a pat on the head, some sweet compliment...wait, is he back to normal? That curse must have been temporary! -But the look on his partner's face may last longer than a day. -"What. Are. You. Doing. Buck naked in my bed?" Gintoki started to sweat "It is a long story you see..." "Then make it short." A loud gulp echoed in the room. -After the situation got explained... "So you following me in the bathroom wasn't a casualty or your instinct. Or pushing your face between my legs. You didn't want cuddles, you only took advantage of the situation." Their voice monotone. Gintoki was sweating from head to toe. "Maybe?" -Yatos are powerful? Try to get hit by Gintoki's partner, you'll find yourself passed out on the ground before you can blink.

Kamui Yato:

-Kamui wanted a fistfight, for sure he didn't expect that man to turn him into a dog.

-He won btw. There is no way he's gonna lose, as a dog or not.

-Well, for sure the fact that he kept his strength even in that form helped him out.

-It was Abuto that directly delivered him to Kamui's partner.

-"But don't you need him?"

The look on Abuto face tells them that they don't need him. The first free day for Abuto and the crew, this may become a national holiday.

-Kamui still smiled in his puppy form, but his eyes told him a way different story.

-Kamui’s partner took him inside and laid him on the ground.

"So now you're a puppy, mh? Does this mean..." They were slow in their movements, after all, they didn't want to hurt Kamui "I can beat you?!" They only wanted to put his back on the ground.

Poor them.

-They could see Kamui wagging his tail, sat like a statue, clearly happy, from the bathroom, the room he threw them into, breaking the living room wall.

-Then they tried to take him out for a walk, leash on "Kamui I don't wanna lose you in the crowd!", but they found themselves face on the ground more often than not; he pulls like crazy.

-"Wait a moment...a second more...Tadaaaa! Now we should be able to walk".

Kamui upgraded to sled dog! Thank God it has been snowing a lot or they wouldn't know what to do.

-They were so proud of themselves, everything was going smoothly..."H-Hey Kamui! Where are we going?! OHI! SLOW DOWN, SLOW DOWN!"

He did. He stopped. The fact that they broke into(sled included) the Chinese restaurant he took them to, breaking a window and some tables is a detail.

-Look at him. Smiling, cute as hell, tongue sticking out, like all of this wasn't his fault. There is no way they were going to buy him food. NO. WAY.

-...

-They bought it. Because they are too weak. So now, between the food and the money to repair all the broken things, their wallet is empty. WEAK.

-"Pls Kamui this time let's just do a normal walk, I'm destroyed"

Did he listen to them? No. But at least nothing else was broken apart his partner's spirit.

-At least when at home he calmed down.

-He followed them everywhere, the bathroom, the kitchen ("I'm not gonna give you more food! Now is my time to eat!"), on the couch, then sat on their tummy.

-In the end, they understood that he just wanted cuddles. The moment they touched his fur they reached paradise.

-"Oh God you're so soft, so cute, so beautiful, please stay like this forever."

He bit their nose. He would have done that in his human form too.

-Kamui wanted to shower with them. And when Kamui wants something he gets it. It was a funny experience for his partner, for him? Not at all, now he understood why dogs hate baths. After two minutes he was already out, his partner laughing at him.

-And then, when they had to dry him?? HELL. He didn't stay still and his partner risked a finger more than once.

-Thank God the day ended and they went to sleep.

-The next morning, his partner woke up alone. Kamui was already in the kitchen eating everything that was inside the fridge.

-"Oh you're finally awake! I already started eating, hope you don't mind!" He said, eating on your lunch table and emptying the fridge like it was his.

They mind, but they also know Kamui doesn't care about it. But at this moment the question was another one.

"Are those my short? And that my fave t-shirt?"

"Ahahaha yes. I got them dirty while eating, I'm sure it's not a problem."

They wanted to cry.

"After lunch I'm gonna meet Abuto and the others" They could sense it wasn't going to be a peaceful meeting "meanwhile why don't we take a shower together?"

Now he was dangerously near to them. It wasn't really a question, his hands were already on their hips, ready to lift and carry them as a potato sack in case of a negative answer.

"This time it's gonna be my turn to laugh." Voice deep, a voice that told them what was going to happen to them soon.

But how could they say no to that voice?

#gintama imagines #gintama headcanons #sakata gintoki #kamui yato #gintoki x reader #kamui x reader #It's long so I've probably made a ton of grammar mistakes #I was in the mood for something not serious at all

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todourouki · 4 years

Text

Misery Business | K. Bakugou

a one shot

✰ SUMMARY the one where you didn’t mean to take the hothead away from his girlfriend, but you did anyway. It was nothing personal, you just knew that Bakugou Katsuki deserved way better than what he was settling for.

PAIRING Taken/Pro-Hero!Bakugou & Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT 4.6K

WARNINGS explicit language, mentions of cheating, cheating lol, suggestive language, angst, and some fluff at the end bc I cannot end my fics in a bad way I am weak sorry!

You were not a home wrecker.

At least, you wouldn’t say that to your own face.

You knew that the crush you had on Bakugou was wrong. You know that no matter how it is that you put it, or however strong your feelings are, or even however long you’ve even had feelings— liking a guy in a relationship was a huge no-no.

You weren’t the kind of girl to go around liking a girl’s boyfriend, though. It’s not like your feelings magically appeared out of thin air and now you’re stuck falling inlove with a guy that finds solitude in someone else— no, you aren’t like that.

Your feelings for Bakugou are much more complex, to say the least.

It all started in high school, when just the mere thought of the boy brought butterflies to your stomach with how strong and courageous he was. From his attractive face, to his blunt and explosive personality, you always found yourself admiring him when given the chance.

All of that went to shit when he decided to finally give one of the girls that were always fawning over him a chance during the beginning of your third year attending Yuuei Academy.

It was like you had gotten punched in the face, and now it feels like you’re just purposely getting stabbing in the heart every time you did as much as look at them.

That definitely explains why you’re sulking at your table during a school dance with a scowl on your face so you don’t have to see the happy couple waltz around the cafeteria floor.

All the top Pro-Heroes were assigned to attend the dance as academy alumni in order to ensure the safety of the students (as well as make sure students even decided to show up). You, being one of the top five heroes, were ordered to show up with no complaints.

The song currently playing finally changed from a low-tempo song to a much higher one, and with that, you decided to make that your imaginary queue to take a walk around the school’s building before returning to the large decorated area.

Your heel-clad feet dragged you all the way across the gymnasium, sending kids smiles if they were in your way and simply telling them that you were “getting some fresh air before the real fun starts.”

The doors slammed shut, and the solitude of the hallways engulfed in dark hues reflected against your strained eyes in a way that made you have to physically restrain your hand from harshly rubbing at it in order to make sure your make up stood intact.

The halls reminded you of a younger you (and by younger, you mean two years. you’re only 20 and already have the mind of some old hag) that used to run through these halls with a mini little green skirt and an imagination you wish you could still understand.

They also reminded you of the blond boy inside. Especially the room you stood in front of right now.

Almost as if it was second nature, your body made its way to Class 1-A: the place where it all began, the place where you met your closest friends, and the place where you fell inlove.

Opening the door, the lights turned on to reveal a classroom almost identical to the one you walked into every day four years ago. The desks were positioned the same, the posters remained in the same spot, and even the words on the chalkboard seemed oddly familiar.

The room reeked of new paint and textbook papers, and the only thing you really wanted to smell was the designer perfume clinging helplessly to your body so the odors of a high school class don’t even think twice about sticking to you.

Your body walked towards your old desk, Seat 12, the dress you wore clinging to your body as you pulled the chair out and nostalgically sat down. You were a first year all over again, and the thought made you laugh.

You looked embarrassing your first year— as embarrassing as someone who looks like you now can get. From the hideously overheated hair, to the emo phase you still seemed to sort of be stuck in, the world seemed too easy no matter what bullshit was going on the minute you sat down at that desk.

That explained how you felt now— no matter how much your heart yearned to be in the hands of Bakugou, the minute the cold sturdiness of the chair touched your warm body, all of that disappeared. For once, nothing in the world mattered. More precisely, Bakugou didn’t matter.

“Tch, I knew you’d be in here.” Annnddd there goes that.

Your eyes widened, now staring at a smirking blond wearing a black and white tux instead of the chalkboard you once zoned out on.

His arms were crossed against his muscular chest, and the muscles outlined the button up shirt in a way that should just be downright illegal. His face was gleaming with mischief, slowly walking his way over to the empty desk directly next to yours, taking a seat, and positioning his body in a lazy manner with his legs propped up against the table. Just like before.

“You know, this brings back a lot of shitty memories.” He grunted, stretching his arms behind his head and lolling his head to face you.

You nodded in response, glancing your head up to look at the lights in a way to move the gears in your brain to say something. Literally the same thing you used to do during Midnight’s long, tedious classes.

“Yea, a bunch of ones I’d much rather forget.” You said, looking over at him and watching as his eyes stared directly at the window you always found him staring out of when he wasn’t in the mood to talk to anyone in class.

“Always hearing your annoying ass mumble and suck your teeth used to really piss me off.” His words were masked with seriousness, trying to hide the playful smirk on his lips you identified much too quickly. With that, a scoff left your lips and you crossed your arms.

“Nobody said anything about the pencil you insisted on tapping for hours straight.” Your jab back made him chuckle, looking back at you with vermillion eyes that made you lose all sense of feelings.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you always forgot what it was like to look at anything before you looked into his eyes. That’s how scary it was— how intimidating it was to be under his presence. His eyes captured you, holding you hostage and probably never letting you go.

“At least we didn’t sit next to each other during our third year,” he began, placing a hand loosely around his tie as he continued to look at you in your eyes, “I don’t think I would have ever focused with the humming you did to the same damn song every day.”

“Yeah, instead of me though, you ended up sitting with your future wife.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid, STUPID.

It was like word vomit, the snarky tone slipping through your lips as if it was trying its hardest to come off in a jokingly manner, only ending up appearing as sarcastic as possible. It was like the words fell from your tongue quicker than you could punch your own esophagus.

Bakugou stood quiet for a moment, staring at you and knitting his eyebrows together as if deep in thought. Your eyes ended up leading you back to the words Relief Fund written messily against the green chalkboard to save your embarrassment.

You didn’t see the frown itching across Bakugou’s lips.

“We aren’t married, ya know. I don’t know why people decided to start that rumor.” He said, a sigh passing by his lips to quiet his tone as if he was scared his girlfriend was around to hear it.

“Might as well marry her. You’re not really the kind of guy that dates just to date.” Your words struck hesitantly in the room in a timid yet informative voice, and Bakugou watched the board as well so that you were both avoiding each other’s gaze.

“Yeah well I’m not sure, marriage is a big deal.” Bakugou was muttering, and the tone of his voice made you crane your neck over to where he was seated as you stood quiet.

What were you, someone who was basically inlove with him, supposed to say that?

You both stood in silence for a few seconds, the words in your throat itching to escape as the remnants of memories you both had both in class and just together in general filled your vision.

“I always hated this seat because I knew it meant that I would always be the person you would argue with.” You began, closing your eyes and releasing a strained scoff from your glossed lips.

You didn’t know what you were doing, or what you were talking about, but as the moon danced across the pale boy’s face and the music in the cafeteria continued to gently ring through the halls, the only thing you were thinking about doing was speaking more than you ever have.

“Morning after morning, I grew used to your loud voice and extremely hostile—” “HAH? I was NOT—”

You sent him a glare, immediately cutting him off and proceeding your weird speech that just couldn’t let anything go.

“Anyways, morning after morning, I ended up looking forward to the words you decided to call me and yell at me about for the day. It’s like, if it didn’t happen,” your arms moved in an animated way, catching Katsuki’s full attention as he looked on to your rant, “I felt like my day wasn’t really an actual day, ya know?

The one thing you loved appreciated most about Bakugou was his ability to listen. And when you say listen, you mean just listen. His ears were perked up in your direction, shoes turned towards you and eyes watching your movements like a hawk.

“And then—” you gulped, pausing for a second in order to think your words though. It was always now or never to you, the drama giving you a sense of hope against a man like that.

It’s either I bring it up now, or I never get to speak my peace, and I refuse to be one of those people showing up to the wedding yelling ‘I oppose.’

“And then it was here that I realized I was the biggest idiot alive by feeling the way I felt about this one person.” You said, eyes glaring at the wall in front of you blankly as you cowered behind the whisps of your lashes.

Bakugou said nothing, but from the corner of you eye, you could see him staring at the side of your face with an expression you had never really see on him.

“I spent years pining after some dumbass that didn’t even see the genuine interest I had in him.” Your words were like alcohol, and Bakugou was too busy drinking them all in to fully acknowledge what you were talking about.

“I watched him give in to this one girl though,” a lightbulb when off in the boy’s head and for once, he felt like the idiot in the room, “a girl that doesn’t even care for him.”

“Y/N..” Bakugou growled, almost as if he was threatening you and warning you to tread on light waters.

If there was one thing he ever respected about you though, it was that you were never scared of him.

Your eyes snapped towards him, a scowl on your face as you began to feel anger bubbling up in your stomach from the way he tried to shut you up. You were finally speaking your peace and he’s too much of a coward to let you finish?

“You know, I thought the first red flag of her trying to change his attitude was enough. I thought that maybe, just maybe, after her telling him that being number one hero wasn’t really tangible, he’d have some common fucking sense and see what everyone else sees.” Your words were like venom, your eyes not leaving his as you huffed in your seat.

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.” Bakugou’s voice was low and angry, laced with anger as he stared at you just as intensely as you stared at him. Your expression never faltered, and instead, you turned your entire body around in the chair to fully face him with arms across your chest.

“I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about,” you taunted, your anger only rising in value, “and so the fuck do you, Bakugou.”

“You know she doesn’t give a fuck about you and you know very fucking well she’s only with you because you’re Bakugou Katsuki!”

His name slipping off your tongue brought shivers to his spine as he sat up in his seat and glared at you with the tip of his ears painting themselves a light red hue.

He was angry— not necessarily at you, but at the fact that he was getting called out for something like this. He was getting called out for finally being with a girl and was getting shit for it from someone he saw as a best friend.

“You don’t know shit— you don’t even fucking know her.” His voice began to get louder, the bass in his voice causing your heart to vibrate as you shocked both you and him by slamming a hand against the desk in frustration.

“For God’s sake, Katsuki open your fucking eyes!” You only used his first name when your emotions were high, and that made the man’s hands shake in anger as he watched your outburst.

“She forgot your anniversary! She doesn’t make you your favorite food— fuck she doesn’t even kiss you unless there’s a shitty camera around!” You stood up, stomping your feet and watching as he stood up quickly after you and scowled over at your angry face.

“She doesn’t care enough to remember shit that you don’t like which is why you always end up at stupid shit like this and she doesn’t even care to meet your friends!” Your voice was now loud, the music of the cafeteria being long forgotten as you huffed over at him and slammed a finger into his chest at every syllable you spoke.

“You want to know what I think about her, Bakugou? Bestfriend to bestfriend?” The words bestfriend seethed through your lips like venom as your finger dug itself into the middle of his pecks. He said nothing, waiting for you to continue as his hands balled into fists along his sides.

“I think that you’re such a fucking pussy, you can’t fathom being with someone who doesn’t worship the ground you walk on the way she does.” You growled, narrowing your eyes at his angry expression as you took a step closer to him threateningly.

“I think you hate the fact that I’m right— the fact that she blatantly uses you and doesn’t give a fuck about you, and you hate the fact that I know you so well enough to know that—”

Before the last few letters of the words could slip through your lips, a warm hand slammed against your fingers and snatched it into his grasp as he began to huff in anger. The caramel smell only increased, and you could sense his quirk begin to flare the abnormal heat in his hands up every second.

“You don’t know shit,” he growled, his voice raising as he began to yell at you in your face, “you don’t know shit about me!”

“Are you shitting me?!” You exclaimed, grabbing at the hand that grasped yours with a grip so tight Bakugou had to glance at it quickly before reverting his eyes back to yours.

“I’ve known every little fucking thing about you since we were fifteen!” You yelled, tears threatening to spill down your eyes as the anger inside you finally erupted in a way you couldn’t control.

“Nobody asked you to be so invested in my fucking life anyway!” He retaliated, his voice booming through the room as you stared at him incredulously.

“I was so fucking invested in you because I’m fucking inlove with you, you idiot!”

Your voice silenced the room, the grip he had on your hand tightening as he stared at you with shocked eyes yet the same familiar scowl you were used to. Your expression never faltered the way his eyes did when he heard you, though. You stood your ground.

“It’s so annoying seeing the guy you are inlove with be so unhappy in a relationship because he feels as if he has no one else.” Your voice began to quiet down, a tear slipping down your eye as Bakugou watched you with a slightly softened face.

The hand gripping yours loosened a bit, still gripping it to his chest as he wrapped all his fingers around your bracelet covered wrist.

“It’s so annoying watching you try to force someone else to fall inlove with you, when I’ve been inlove with you for free for years. It hurts watching you try to force yourself to be inlove with a girl you know you don’t want to be with. It just fucking hurts Bakugou, so fucking bad.”

There was a crack in your voice that Bakugou knew all too well from the restless nights you’d spend together, and it didn’t take much for him to engulf your frame into a tight hug as he rested his head against yours. You dived into his chest, the familiar warmth wrapping around you in a way that made a few more tears slip from your eyes. You didn’t make a noise, but he knew that you were hurting.

Neither of you said anything, only holding each other until you removed yourself from him and wiped the tears off your face before he could see the evident streams marking your cheeks. He stared at you silently, as if he was contemplating something.

With timid eyes, he watched you fix the straps of your dress to find something to play with under his gaze. The silence was deafening, and was an unusual characteristic for the boy who always had something to say.

“You know she hates me, that’s why you never bring her around me.” You said, a tone of blankness carrying your voice through the room as your tears dried up and was replaced by the anger haunting your heart once again.

“No she doesn’t, she just feels like we’re too close.” Bakugou retorted, sighing and taking a seat on the chair he once occupied. You followed suit, leaning against the back of your own seat as you faced his body.

“Back in high school, I never told you this, but her and I argued in the bathroom once.” You informed, dryly chuckling as you watched his face contort with confusion.

“I told her that her pretty little face and fucked up manipulation wasn’t going to keep you around in the long run.” You stood quiet after letting him know, gulping some saliva down as you averted your gaze from his body to your painted nails. “Guess I was wrong.”

Bakugou didn’t know what to do. There were many things the man was capable of: he could destroy any villain in his way, was braver than any other fucking half assed hero out there, was smart as fuck, and could manage a relationship as well as being a top pro-hero because that’s just who he was.

What he couldn’t do, though, was fully digest the situation in front of him.

He bit his lip, running a hand across his face in frustration and staring meekly at your face. You couldn’t help but admire his frame as you did before. He was strong, well-built, smelled good, had great posture— there was nothing wrong with him. It was almost surreal.

“We’ve been dating for like two years.” Bakugou’s low voice broke the silence as he stared deep into your now glazed over eyes. You didn’t break the contact, hands rested against each side of the seat as you watched him speak.

“I’ve been dating her for two years and yet...” His words were lost, almost sounding as if he was hesitating the very same way you were earlier. You said nothing though, knowing he would stop expressing himself if you had opened your mouth.

“And yet I can’t help but imagine she was someone else.”

It was like every word he said was the last glass of water, and you drank it up against your skin in a way that brought goosebumps to his. You furrowed your eyebrows, silently signaling for him to continue.

“I never told you this,” he mocked your voice, his scowl still resting against his soft face, “but there was a time where I thought about what it would be like if we were a shitty thing.”

Everyone always assumed Bakugou and you would end up together. Whether it be from watching you both pin are each other relentlessly, to watching you fawn over him, and from just watching your interactions with one another— it almost seemed destined for you two to work out. Keyword: almost.

“Shitty Hair and Dunce-Face tell me all the fucking time that I’m an idiot for choosing this girl over you.” He scoffed, and you couldn’t help but feel your stomach tingle at the use of the name ‘this girl’ for his own girlfriend. “It’s not like I wanted to, you were always my first option.”

You stood quiet. The last sentence was lower than the others and sounded way more vulnerable. You couldn’t help but gape at him, repeating it in your brain as if they was the last words you’d ever hear again. You were always my first option.

Maybe it was the buzz you felt from the energy within the room, maybe you were drunk on adrenaline, or maybe you were just being a fucking dumbass, but the way your feet moved you from your seat to the desk he was sitting at was something you just couldn’t stop in time.

Bakugou hasn’t said anything beyond what he just finished as he watched you gently push his body away and hop up onto the desk. Your body was now inches away from his as you watched him shyly. You were always so obnoxiously close to him, so why is it that his stomach was throwing fireballs at his insides now?

“You deserve better, Katsu..” You lowly began, fiddling with the rings on your fingers as you glanced over at his body through your dark eyelashes. “Does she take care of you?”

Your words hit him in the chest and he couldn’t find it within himself to look away from you. He wasn’t sure what it was, or how you were doing it, but he was entranced by your every word and it was scaring the shit out of him. He found himself shaking his head, eyes never leaving yours as the scowl in his face began to soften.

“You’re a strong man, Katsu,” the way his nickname slipped from your lips nearly made him melt, the unfamiliar feelings he was so used to suppressing caused his head to jumble around and process your words, “you need someone who takes care of you the right way.”

You watched him, a hand lifting towards his head and running itself through his soft yet spikey hair. Bakugou always claimed he hated it when you played with his hair since that was something he thought no one was close enough to be able to touch, but he always seemed to lean into you unknowingly.

His chair scooted closer to the table, your legs now in between his lazily opened ones and his body aching to go closer into your touch.

“What are you suggesting?” His dark voice questioned, eyes staring at you as the once softened expression transformed into another of a slowly rising mischievous smirk. You were sure you were breathing earlier, but now? Not so much.

“Are you suggesting that I need someone else to take care of me?” His words hit you hard, your body facing whiplash from all the sudden changes of emotion.

You looked down shyly, trying to find the confidence you once had that was now lost in the gush of your flustered moment, yet Bakugou’s calloused, warm hand then reached up to your chin to perk it up to face his now standing body.

“Are you saying that you should be the one taking care of me?” He asked, staring at your eyes with more intensity than you were fully even prepared for. Your eyes dug into his as the feeling of his hands on your chin caused your brain to short circuit for a moment.

“You said it yourself, I’m a strong man.” You could feel the confidence drip from his words as you bit your left cheek to keep from whimpering at the intensity laced within the empty classroom. “I need someone to take care of me the right way, and I don’t think this girl is doing it Y/N.”

The use of your name caused you to tug your bottom lip between your teeth and blush behind his words. You didn’t miss the way his eyes quickly zipped from your eyes to your mouth, and back to your eyes once again. His body was now towering over your seated one, looking down at you as if you were the only person in the world at this moment.

Bakugou was out of it, to say the least. Usually he felt as if he had control over situations like this, but even with towering over your frame and his hand gripping your chin, he felt as if you were in complete control of the situation. He knew that his current girlfriend was probably coming to look for him, and he knew that everything was inevitable and he was simply just prolonging it.

That didn’t stop him from sliding his hand across your neck to grip the back of it and pull your face in towards him.

A kiss was the last thing you were expecting, and you would have gasped if his lips weren’t putting you in such a trance. It was like everything had stopped, time stopped, the dance stopped, everything was just on a hiatus.

His tongue danced against yours in a way that made you whimper lowly into his touch. His hands explored your body, rubbing against you in exasperated motions as you reciprocated by rubbing your hands across his chest, shoulders, and waist. It was like you were both doing the last thing you’d do before the world came to an end.

His lips moved feverishly across your own as tilted your head upwards to get a more comfortable position. A warm yet equally rough hand snaked it’s way back onto your neck and gripped your throat with such possession, you felt a tingle reach your lower half.

The intensity of the make out was one that put every other sound to shame as the room was filled with nothing but the small whimpers coming from either of you and the sound of your lips smacking against his. It was like a dream, and Bakugou couldn’t control himself any longer as he groaned into your touch.

It wasn’t until a gasp broke the seductive silence within the room, as well as pushed the two of you apart only to see his girlfriend staring at the two of you with wide eyes and a fizzy drink in both of her hands., that you realized something.

Shit just got really fucking complicated.

—

back to masterlist

I wanna have an angsty kiss moment with bakugou

>:( damnit anyways yeah like, reblog, comment, follow! thanks for reading! don’t forget to send some requests in <3

- heilly

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