#and then immediately afterwards hes like What the fuck that was weird SNAP OUT OF IT I HATE THIS GUY

[luveline]

Hi id love to send u a request but I just can't match your genius mind, id looooveee more zombie!au Steve!!! 🥺🥺🥺🫶🏻🫶🏻 maybe smth about r or Steve almost being bitten by a geek?

hi!! thank you angel!! zombie au steve x fem!reader, 3k

"Sneaking around with your boyfriend would've been considered sort of scandalous a few years ago," you think aloud, eyes skipping over medication labels slowly. "Now it's the norm."

"We are the opposite of scandalous," Steve says. 

You push pill bottles aside to meet his eyes through the gap in the shelves. He narrows his gaze. "You know how you saw me naked, like, a week after we met?" 

Steve's glare turns playfully salacious. "Yeah?" 

"Did that make it less, uh, important? Not important. Was it less intimate for you when I was naked on purpose?" 

Steve returns his eyes to the pill bottles. "No." 

"Is that weird for me to ask you?" 

"No, that's not weird, why would that be weird?" He looks up again. His expression softens. "Don't worry, it's not weird. It's a normal question. You're wondering if I was… desensitised." 

"Yeah, exactly. Were you desensitised?" 

Trust Steve to say something snippy and then feel bad enough afterwards to immediately backtrack. There's no need for him to feel guilty because you'd known he was joking, and if he weren't it wouldn't matter to you —you know being outside of camp makes him nervous, and tightly strung. You aren't expecting him to be all smiles, especially when you're asking peculiar questions. 

"If anything," he says, his voice a murmur that evidences shy affection, "it was way more special. I knew you back to front already, but the first time you showed me you, on purpose, it was different." 

You grin at him. "Like a look don't touch scenario where you finally get to touch?" 

"I'm trying to be sweet on you." 

"What was it like?" you ask. Your smile is audible. 

"Like fucking relief." He reaches through the shelves to squeeze your hand. "You're being slow." 

You take your hand back and return to the task. You're looking for anti-seizure medication for one of the children at camp. It's an important mission and neither of you had hesitated when Joyce asked you to go, but you can't say you enjoy being out here. Talking to Steve makes things better. Easier to cope. Talking to Steve about loving him and being loved by him could make you forget a pike through the chest. 

You move to the next shelf below. 

There aren't many drugs for epilepsy. You aren't sure the child even has epilepsy, but no one has the knowledge to identify anything else. Sarah (Robin's fast friend from camp) read in her field medic journal that a seizure can be caused by lots of things, and she also said that sometimes what looks like a seizure isn't a seizure at all. What is it, then? you'd asked. 

The page was missing. 

You're working through a mental list of four drugs methodically, scanning and rescanning the labels on the bottles in the back of a pharmacy. This is the raw stuff, the kind that sometimes needs to be ground and poured into capsules with filler, so if you do find the right meds you'll also need to find a pestle and some other equipment. It's a hassle, but it's worth it completely if it helps. 

"Clonazepam," you read. You lift your head. "Steve, that's the right one, right? Clonazepam?" 

Steve's head snaps up. "Yeah, that's the last resort one. Where's that?" 

He rounds the shelves to be on the same side as you, seemingly hoping for similar medications to be in the same place. His hand drops casually to your shoulder as he bends, reading each label with a determined brow. 

"Valproate," he says, relieved, hand closing around another bottle. "Okay, two options. Thank god." 

"Do they have the side effects on the bottle?" you ask. 

Steve turns the bottle but there's no second label.

"The side effects are usually worse than the original problem," he says, frowning, "remember those migraine pills we found, the leaflet?" That's how bored you and Steve had become at one point in your isolation, you'd started reading medical pamphlets. "I'd rather have a headache than lose my sense of smell." 

"Depends on how bad the headache is. You keep looking for the, uh, the carba-Tegre one. I'll go scout the equipment." 

"Tegretol," he corrects lightly. "Carbamazepine, brand name Tegretol." 

You're impressed by his memory. He sees that, and he lifts his hand to you. Palm your way, you can see he's written the names of the medication as you'd been advised to find by one of the camp members, a retired carer who worked bedside for a lady who suffered from epilepsy. 

"Your spelling is terrible," you say. 

"Whatever," he says flippantly. You're barely ten paces away when he adds, "I love you." 

"I love you too," you say. There's no need to call. The building, this entire town, is silent. You'll hear a geek a mile away. 

You poke at dusty equipment sceptically. You don't need filler, you don't think, but it affects absorption, maybe? You're not a pharmacist nor a chemist, whoever's watching knows you didn't have time to become much of anything, you're just doing as the retired carer advised. There's a press contraption with what feels like hundreds of caplet sized holes toward the front. You put it in your bag and lament its weight as you search for a pestle. 

"I've found the filler," Steve says. "There's a huge container of it. Lactose. And another of starch."

"Starch, like potatoes? We could put her medicine in mash potato."

"I think we just need a pestle and a weighing scale now. And some hand sanitiser." 

"I'll have the scales and the sanitiser, what about Robin's deodorant?" you ask. 

"At the front. I'll get it. You'll have another one?" 

"Please tell me they have that Carribean Crush one again, it was lovely." 

"You're lovely. I'll find it." 

The weighing scale must get its name from how ridiculously heavy it is. That along with the pestle has your bag feeling like a boulder attached to your neck. Maybe Steve will be willing to share the load with you. Actually, there's no need for maybe. If you tell him, he'll carry it with you happily. 

You scan the room for useful things. Batteries, food, things you've trained your eye to pick out of a bomb site if necessary. You pocket a pen for Steve and leave the rest where it lays, stepping out into the slightly bigger medications room before rounding a plexiglass wall to the pharmacy counter. Steve crouches down the aisleway, rejected roll-on deodorant on the floor beside him. 

You're about ten feet away from him when the geek lunges for him. 

You can't even tell it's a geek at first, it moves quickly, quietly, smooth as a living human. They've become diverse as the infection thrives, and you should've been thinking about that fact. You should've been standing at the front of the room. 

You freeze. You freeze and you waste time. 

"Steve!" you shriek. 

Steve's flat on his side, kicking with the entire force of his body. The geek actually bounces back with the force of each kick, but he's persistent, and stronger than he should be, a mottled hand on Steve's shoulder and decaying teeth snapping with a sound like cracking marble near his face. Steve tries to scramble from under the geek and its face falls down by Steve's ribs and upper arm. He yanks his arm away, and there's an odd ripping sound. 

You run so fast down the aisle to protect him that you can't slow, the entire weight of your body and the heavy bag you carry throttling the geek with a horrid slap against the glass door. It flies open and you topple out onto asphalt, sliding across the geek's body and taking the brunt of your rolling in your hands and the top of your face. Steve shouts a war cry and barrels after you. You go on knees, hands trembling and rushing as you grab for the knife in your belt. Steve lands on top of the geek and drives the blade of his pen knife straight into the crease between its brows, grunting as he goes, his breath coming too fast. 

You've clipped your head on the floor, the warmth of blood trickling down your brow. It doesn't concern you. 

What concerns you is the sizable tear in Steve's coat. 

He almost cuts you with his knife as you run at him, yanking the sleeves of his coat and jacket down. 

"What– what are you doing?" he asks. You tug at his sleeve like you've been possessed, panic a coil that won't loosen in your throat. "What–?" 

If he's been bitten, you'll have to saw his arm off. It's the most horrible thing you can think of, hurting someone you love, hurting the one person you love most. Your breath is half sob as you finally get his outerwear off of his arm. You don't know how to do that to somebody and especially Steve, how could you ever sever a limb? But if it will stop the infection, if it would save him—

You push the long sleeve of his t-shirt up his arm and stare down at his arm. Bruised near the wrist, pale, threaded with dark-green veins, his skin is unbroken. He hasn't been bitten. 

You pull his arm to your chest and almost break down there in the street. Steve stands with his coat hanging off of his one shoulder and doesn't respond to your actions for a long, heavy second. 

"You thought it bit me," he says. 

Your breath catches. 

"It didn't bite you." 

"No," he says, "it didn't bite me." 

"Your coat." 

Steve pulls you back inside of the store. He looks around the room twice, and then leads you to an empty corner to hug you. 

You're frenetic and frantic at once, hands sliding up and down his arm, eyes tracing his light skin like an injury might materialise. 

"It didn't bite me," Steve says, "but you're bleeding." 

You hiss as his fingertip locates your cut forehead. It must be a very small cut considering how little it bled. You've had head injuries that wept for hours, leaving you dizzy and disorientated from the subsequent lack of blood. This one's a wimp. 

You've also seriously hurt your shoulder from the backpack's weight and your small skirmish. You're not going to tell him that, not now, not when you've been dropped face first into the horror of potentially losing him forever. 

Steve eases out of his jacket. He takes your hand from his arm and pushes both sleeves up, bearing both arms in front of you. 

"It didn't get me, honey. Try to calm down." 

He says it softly, with no judgement or condescension. Only concern. 

"I'm fine," you say. 

It's strangled, you'll admit. Steve turns his arms to show you both sides before he tilts your head up and toward the meagre filtering sunlight, analysing your head injury in detail. 

"Did you hurt yourself? When you fell, did it feel like you hit it hard, or was it something sharp?" You don't answer, and he gets snippy. "Y/N, tell me. Did it hurt?" 

"Steve, you're the one who almost got bit." 

"And you're the one who almost died of a fucking concussion not that long ago, in case you forgot. Sit down. I'm not kidding, sit down." 

You blink, mildly startled by his hissing, and sit on the ground. He's being snappy because he's panicking, that's all it is. You hold back an unhelpful comment that your concussion had been months and months ago, so it kind of was long ago. 

He lets his coat and jacket fall to the floor and jogs back up the aisle to the bandages and gauze. He takes a detour for antiseptic, and then he sets himself down in front of you. 

"Did you hit it hard?" he asks. 

You shake your head. 

He doused a piece of gauze in antiseptic. "Sting," he warns, washing the length of your forehead with his makeshift wipe. He quickly swaps the bloodied one for a clean one. "Hold this." 

You hold it. He gets back up, scouring the shelves by the bandages until he plucks out a small box. He crushes it with his hand and the medical tape inside falls into his waiting palm. He sits again, tears two strips, and lines the edges of your gauze with them. It would all be much easier if they had big band-aids. 

"Show me your pupils, baby," he says. 

Steve, for his street smarts and survival skills, used to freak out about injuries. But Steve freaking out freaks you out and he guessed that soon enough, so every cut and bruise these days is met with a silent approach. It's the opposite of your reaction. Embarrassment starts to creep in. 

You widen your eyes and let Steve check your pupils. 

"Same size," he says. 

"It's just a cut." 

Steve shuffles across the floor so his thigh is pressed to yours, rather than having his back to the store. He breathes out slowly, breathes in quick, and then forces the bottom of his palm into his thigh cruelly. 

"How the fuck did that happen?" he asks. If he weren't being hyper vigilant, he'd be scrubbing his eyes in a tell tale nervous tic. "We haven't had something like that in months. We swept this whole place when we came in, where the fuck was he hiding? I feel sick." 

"You do?" you ask, terrified. 

"It didn't bite me," he assures you again. Thankfully without any annoyance. 

"It ripped a chunk out of your coat with its teeth. Forgive me for thinking your skin was less hardy than pressed plastic." 

Your acidity shocks you both. 

Things are awkward for a split second, 'cos it's difficult to feel awkward around someone who you've spent every second of the day with since you met. You feel for a moment that you could just take him by the shoulders and shake him. You love him, you could never hurt him, but he has to see sense: he doesn't understand how much you need him. Not to keep you alive, but to give you a reason to do it yourself. If he got bit, you'd die. Plain and simple. Internally first, but surely the heartbreak would murder you in the end. 

"I didn't know you were so disagreeable," Steve says. 

"I didn't know you knew a word that long."

Steve laughs, startled. You want to be mad, but you're so thankful that he's not dying and so suddenly wiped you can only laugh with him.

"I forgot how quick you are when we fight," Steve says. 

"We don't fight anymore." 

"That could be amended. Especially if you're going to get fresh with me."

"You started it." 

"I always start it." Steve flicks your shoulder."Let me see your head," he says. You turn your neck so he can see the outermost side of your head. "You swelled up like a helium balloon when you fell through that floor. It was right at the back of your head and I could tell something was wrong… This is fine. It bulged out last time." 

"It what?" you demand, pulling another rare laugh from him.

He winds down, clasping your knee. You cover his hand, and only then do you realise it's shaking.

"Steve, you almost died." 

"But I didn't die, I'm fine, and you need to stop freaking out because high blood pressure is definitely bad for a concussion. You could die yourself if you don't relax, seriously." Steve clears his throat. "Sorry, for getting heated. And thanks for knocking that guy clean off of me, what was that? You holding out on me when we wrestle? That was clean." 

"That was like, a mom's adrenaline thing. No, not 'cos I'm your mom, idiot. Loved one's adrenaline. I thought you were gonna die and suddenly I could've run for fucking gold in the Tokyo Olympics." 

"How did I get some of that? Whenever you're hurt I just feel like crying." 

"I think the crying bit comes after. Maybe if you tried getting to me quicker you'd have enough adrenaline to save me." 

He smiles before he talks, so you know it's going to be bad, "If a geek eats me during an adrenaline rush, am I a human Red Bull?"

"Okay, you have to keep an eye on the store because I need to be hugging you," you say, giving him little time to disagree as you climb on top of his lap. 

It's not comfortable nor sexy, but for once you don't care how heavy you are. You wrap your hands around the back of his neck and cradle his head, his face hooked over your shoulder so that he can still see your surroundings. He slides his hands underneath your coat and hugs you in turn. Your heart's still racing, and his hands are still shaking, but you lived. He lived. You've defeated danger for the hundredth time. 

"This really doesn't get any easier, does it?" you ask, petting his hair.  

He pats your back. "No, I don't think so. S'why I need you with me." 

"That's why I need you." 

Steve dots a quick kiss against the column of your throat. When he puts his chin back atop your shoulder, it's with a heaving sigh. 

"I can't believe you almost got bit," you say. 

"Yeah, well. Nobody has any manners anymore." 

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington drabble #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things 4

[carlsdarling]

No Mercy Part II

This was requested a lot. The hate-love-story between Carl and Y/N, who is Negan's daughter, evolves... Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, slightly violent sex (consensual), angst, abusive language

During the following weeks you and Carl just couldn't stop doing two things: Fighting hatefully and fucking each other. It almost became a ritual. And the more violently you argued, the better the ensuing sex, which was always rough. After you spent an evening at Ron's to watch a movie with him and Enid, Carl was convinced that you had been drooling over Ron. "You were checking him out the whole time," he kept angrily accusing you as you headed home to Rick's house. "You probably want to fuck him."

"So what if I am? What's business is it of yours, Carl?" you snapped. "Maybe he's better than you? Not that it's that difficult."

By now you'd reached the house. Carl opened the door, roughly dragged you over the threshold and immediately pushed you into the pantry next to the kitchen, where he ripped off your jeans and panties, shoved you face-first against the wall and without foreplay penetrated you from behind, fucking you with hard thrusts. "Carl, yes, please," you whimpered, pressing against him as your head kept hitting the shelf above you.

He buried his face against your neck to silence his moans. "I've wanted to rail you all evening, but you presented yourself to Ron like a slut! How many times do I have to tell you that you're my personal fucking property?" snarled Carl, pounding even harder, aggressively rubbing your clit with his right hand. He covered your mouth to prevent the other people in the house from waking up as you cum and screamed out loud. " Do you see? See? You hate me, and every time you cum on me you beg for more," he gasped contentedly, enjoying his orgasm. His cum dripped onto the floor as he pulled out of you. Upstairs you continued, the whole night was filled with angry sex, and in the morning you both had quite a few bruises, hickeys and scratches to hide.

Subsequently, the situation between you began to change slowly and almost unnoticeably. You started sneaking into each other's room more and more often in the late evening and eventually having sex in bed. What was new was that you didn't always argue beforehand. Then a few times you found yourselves lying together afterwards, cuddling and exchanging caresses. Whenever you became aware of it, one of you would angrily stop it right there and start a fight, whereupon either you or Carl would storm out of the room and the old ways would be reinstated. You hated Carl, and he hated you, and sex was just a way of expressing that hatred and it had to be violent.

Then the day came when Carl went out with Rick and some others, but they returned without him. "Where's Carl?" you asked in a squeaky voice, looking all around for him.

Rick looked utterly distraught. "We lost him," he muttered.

You felt like you'd been thrown into ice water. "Is he... dead?" For some inexplicable reason, the thought of never seeing Carl again shocked you. Even more unbearable was the idea that he might have turned into a walker, soulless and distorted.

"We don't know, we were separated by a bunch of walkers. We need to get back out there now, with more people, and search for him." Rick ruffled his hair.

For the next few hours you couldn't think clearly, nervously pacing from room to room, and when you finally saw Rick and Michonne approaching the house with Carl between them, you felt sick with relief. Carl looked pale and exhausted, and he was completely sweaty, filthy, and stained with blood and other weird substances. "You stink," was the first thing you said to him, and you turned up your nose. „It’s disgusting.“

"Screw you," he said wearily.

You waited for Carl to go into the bathroom and entered ten minutes later when he turned off the shower. He was sitting on the toilet lid, and was busy patching up his numerous bruises. Hastily he adjusted his bandage to hide his missing eye from you; you had never seen it. "I really thought you got killed, Carl," you blurted out.

He stood up and met your gaze in the mirror. "You would have liked that, wouldn't you?" he asked with a sneer, but there was something else in his beautiful blue eye. The one he still had.

You quickly nodded. "You bet," you agreed with him. "Anyway - I'm disappointed you're still alive," you said venomously, and went to your room.

It wasn't long before Carl showed up to throw you on the bed recklessly and wanted to fuck you. You had hoped he would do so; your whole body was craving him, and eagerly you wrapped your arms around him.

But he stopped the attempt shortly after with his face wrenched in agony. There was a bloody Band-aid stuck to his stomach. "Carl, what is it?" you asked, startled. "Are you in pain?" Before he could stop you, you grabbed the Band-aid and loosened it. It wasn't a bite, just a nasty cut that looked infected. The wound was located just below the scar he already had when he had been shot back then and Hershel had saved his life.

"It's not that bad," Carl claimed, taking the Band-aid away from you and reapplying it to the wound.

"Yes, it is," you countered, "You need antibiotics."

"Why do you even care?" he asked dismissively, frowning.

"Oh, I don't," you promptly returned. "Go and do whatever you want. I couldn't care less how you feel. But you can't rail me in this state anyway, so you're useless, so piss off," you hissed, pushing him away and tossing a pillow at him. Carl gathered up his clothes, showed you his middle finger and left the room - but not without turning around once more, winking at you and mockingly throwing you a kiss. You shook your head with an annoyed grin and switched off the light.

Then everything happened very quickly. The next morning, Rick caught up with you in the hallway as you were about to go to the bathroom. Carl had taken some medicine - in the end, he had listened to you - and now he was fast asleep. "'Get your things together,'" Rick ordered. "You're leaving."

"But... why..."

"Your father's people captured Gabriel," Rick informed you angrily. "The Saviours have a hostage, we have a hostage. We'll trade you."

Stunned, you stuffed your few belongings into a bag, then Rick hustled you into the car and drove you to the main gate. "I'm sorry you didn't have a chance to say goodbye to Carl," Rick said.

"Carl and I hate each other," you said coldly. Rick looked at you with amusement, but made no comment.

After some mutual accusations and insults between him and Negan, you were handed over to your father at the same time Gabriel was walking towards the Alexandria gate. Before you realized it, you were sitting next to your father in the car, and you were on your way back to the Sanctuary.

Negan looked at you from the side. "Are you alright? Have these bastards done anything to you?"

"No, Rick treated me well," you said tersely. You had been caught completely unaware of what had happened. Ten minutes later, you felt the sourness of stomach acid filling your mouth. "Stop the car. Stop the car right now. I'm going to puke," you managed to say. Negan stopped the car, you yanked open the door just in time and vomited onto the asphalt.

"Are you sick?" your father inquired as he restarted the motor. "Maybe the fish from last night was rotten," you evaded the question.

(yessss there will be a part 3... tell me if you liked the plot development 🥰)

#carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes smut #carl grimes #carl fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #twd #carl grimes imagines #the walking dead

[lilac-hecox]

i don’t have a specific request but something with spommy or kimney? congrats btw!

Spencer/Tommy - Spommy - Staff Meeting

*This is inspired by the reading Youtube Comments Sm*sh P*t Theater and the Smoshoffice series and is meant to be silly and wacky

--

“So, just a reminder that we’re all co-workers here and we want to be professional with each other, and while Smosh doesn’t disallow relationships between employees this is still a workplace,” Nate says, fidgeting a little at the whiteboard in front of the conference room. “Questions?” Spencer raises his hand. Nate eyes Spencer warily, but nods. “Spencer?”

“So, how come Anthony can call Ian submissive and breedable but I have to get a warning when I ask Tommy about his penis?”

Tommy, who is across the room, drops his face into his hands. Anthony and Ian are seated next to each other at the head of the table. Anthony immediately turns red and Ian chokes on his cup of coffee, sputtering a little. Courtney is quick to hand Ian a napkin.

“Um,” Nate says, “I guess we shouldn’t really be calling each other submissive and breedable either?”

“That was a joke,” Anthony stresses, his face going a darker pink.

“Yeah right…” Chanse mumbles from the opposite corner of Spencer.

Angela offers her hand for a high five as she lets out a stream of giggles. Chanse gives her a pointed look and shakes his head, and he quickly takes her wrist and lowers her hand for her.

“I want to be clear that Spencer and I don’t really talk about my penis all that much,” Tommy says.

Spencer looks wounded, “I was just worried about you!”

“Anthony and I are just friends,” Ian says, “I want to stress that too.”

Amanda rolls her eyes, “Anyone who thinks Ian and Anthony are really just friends raise your hand.”

Spencer glances around to see not one person in the meeting has raised their hands except Ian and Anthony themselves.

“Well fuck,” Ian says.

“You two were cuddling in the bean bag chair in your shared office,” Shayne points out.

“We got tired from writing the new sketch!” Anthony says defensively.

“You called him hot yesterday,” Damien adds.

“I’m hyping up my best friend!” Anthony insists.

Ian’s face is red.

“Angela said she knows what Damien sounds like when he has sex!” Anthony retorts.

“That was one time!” Angela snaps.

Damien groans.

Nate is quickly losing the room and stands nervously in front of the lot of them.

“Guys, bring it back in- “

“Courtney said the other day that Garrett is ‘kinda daddy’!” Ararsha says.

Courtney’s eyes widen, “Arasha!”

“Sorry, I got caught up in the moment.”

“Yeah, well you said you would take Amanda to O-Town!” Courtney says in return.

“Oh,” Amanda says the same time Arasha huffs.

“Guys!” Nate says.

Spencer stands and he can hear Tommy groan.

“I’m in love with Tommy!”

Zoe bursts into the conference room and flicks the lights on and off suddenly, gaining the room’s attention.

“This is an office and not middle school so sit down and let Nate finish, please.”

The cast takes their seats and Spencer feels his face get hot. He doesn’t dare to look over at Tommy, his confession hanging heavy in the air of the room.

The meeting ends with Nate scheduling everyone for a mandatory workplace conduct training. Afterwards, Spencer is at his desk, pretending to work while silently freaking out.

“Hey, um, Spence, you busy?” Tommy asks, drawing Spencer’s attention from his computer screen.

Spencer wants to say yes, but he blinks and then shakes his head.

“Not really, what’s, um, what’s up?”

Tommy moves and sits on the small couch that is in the game’s office hub. Spencer rolls over closer to Tommy, scared of what the other man might say after Spencer confessed to his feelings during their morning conference meeting.

“So, this morning…was that, uh, a joke or do you really feel something towards me?”

Spencer feels his face getting pink and hot.

“I, um, like you a lot and I get if that’s weird for you and you hate me now or- “

“As if I could hate you,” Tommy says, fondly, a smile on his face.

“You don’t?”

“I think you’re an idiot, but like, in a puppy kind of way, you know?”

“Don’t you hate dogs?” Spencer says.

“Dogs but not puppies.”

“So, there’s a chance here?” Spencer asks, a smile on his face.

“Yes, but no more asking about my penis in public,” Tommy says.

“Deal,” Spencer says, “but does that mean I can ask about it in private?”

Tommy laughs, “I mean, I hope so.”

#spommy #ianthony #damangela #polysmosh #smoshships #300 follower milestone #my writing #my fics #my fic #fic requests #follower prompts #this idea was kicking around so i decided to just write it

[plumfondler]

Eddie likes having his hair played with, we know that, but the amount of things he agrees to while blissed out is hilarious

Steve has a crush on Eddie and keeps trying to flirt. Eddie is very tactile and has no personal boundaries so Steve isn't sure if his crush is reciprocated until he finds the move.

They're at Steve's for a movie night and Steve is on the couch. Eddie is on the floor between Steve's legs with his snacks and Steve has the urge to run his fingers through Eddie's hair. Eddie freezes and so does Steve, who instantly apologizes.

"No no. No, that was. No that was fine, that was good that was fine." Eddie stumbles over his words and snaps his mouth shut.

Steve smirks to himself and starts playing with Eddie's hair again; Eddie sighs and relaxes.

Steve runs his nails over Eddie's scalp and Eddie lets out a small moan, immediately clearing his throat afterwards, chugging the rest of his beer.

"How you doing, Munson?" Steve asks once the movie is over.

Steve had been playing with Eddie's hair for at least an hour at this point.

"Good, I'm good," he answers, sounding extremely subdued.

"You tired or anything? We could watch another movie if you don't feel like going home?" Steve offered.

"Yeah that sounds great, whatever you wanna put on."

"Anything I want?" Steve asked, dragging his nails across Eddie's scalp again.

"Y-yeah, yeah baby, anything you want," Eddie's breathing sounded slightly labored.

Steve's face flushed. Eddie had certainly never called him that before. Steve had Eddie under some kind of spell.

"Alright, want to watch Grease?"

"Sure yeah." Eddie seemed miles away.

"or we could watch this weird porno I found in my dad's office."

"Mmhmm yeah, yeah that works." Eddie's head sagged forwards as Steve's fingers dragged down his neck.

"or we could just make out on the couch for the rest of the night."

"fuck yes, finally."

Steve's hand stopped and Eddie's head shot up as his brain caught up with the conversation. He spun around and looked at Steve.

"I'm sorry can we start over? I had a brain malfunction and cannot be held accountable for anything I said while you were playing with my hair." His eyes were terrified, pleading.

"Well I was lying about the porno, but not the other things. Did you... Not mean what you said?" Steve asked, fidgeting with his hands.

Eddie's eyebrows flew up to his bangs and he leapt onto the couch, straddling a stunned Steve, his hands on his shoulders.

"Oh my god you're serious? You-"

Steve smirked and cut Eddie off with a kiss.

▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️

Send me your headcanons!

#Steddie #steddie headcanon #ask plumfondler

[0-r-a-y-0]

Wisdom Teeth— Romantic #15

In which: Nick gets his wisdom teeth removed and his brothers and Jasper have to take care of him.

Warnings: Drugs, a TON of dialogue

“Are you nervous?” Chris asked, in a teasing tone. Both him and Matt have already gotten their wisdom teeth removed, now today would be Nick’s turn.

“Yes, I’m nervous! Who wouldn’t be?!” Nick snapped, trying to calm his nerves before going into surgery.

“It’ll be alright, you won’t even feel a thing.” Jasper comforted.

“Yeah but my mouth will hurt like hell after.” He complained.

“It’ll be fine. You’ll get through it. You can do this.” The boy said, gently grabbing onto Nick’s hand.

“You’ll be fine! Time will fly by and you won’t even it happened until you’re off the anesthesia.” Matt chimed in.

“That’s exactly what I’m worried about! I don’t want to be acting weird afterwards.” Nick responded.

“You’re appointment is in five minutes, we should go in and get you signed in.” Chris suggested.

Nick sighs, opening up the door and getting out. “Let’s go then, I just want to get this over with.”

They easily get signed it and they wait in the chairs until a lady comes in and calls for Nick. He sighs again and gets up.

“Wish me luck guys.” Nick muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets before walking up to the lady.

They make small talk while they’re walking to the room. When they enter, he was instructed to lay down in the chair while she looks at his teeth.

“Okay, this is only going to be a little poke. It’s going to numb your gums so you won’t feel the procedure while you’re asleep.” She claimed, putting a needle into his mouth and injecting the liquid, then doing the same of the other side of his mouth.

“Good, good.” The surgeon muttered. “Now this is the anesthesia, close your eyes, relax, and count backwards from ten.” She instructed, holding up a different needle to his forearm. Soon, he drifted off from consciousness.

When he woke up, everything was blurry and lights were bright. He adjusts and sits up, everything moving in slow motion but still not being able to process anything around him.

Chris looks up from his phone, seeing Nick was awake. “Hey Nick.”

“Huh?” He asked cluelessly, looking around until he spotted Chris. “Hey Matt, my mouth feels soooo weird.”

“It’s Chris actually.” He corrected, standing up. “Let me go get Matt and Jasper real quick. Hang tight.”

“Sorry…” Nick muttered, looking down at his hands.

“Hey, it’s alright. Your vision is probably a little messed up.” Chris replied, rubbing his shoulders for comfort.

Chris was only gone for a moment, and when he returned he brought Matt and Jasper with him; just as he said he would. Nick perks up at seeing Jasper, his spark suddenly being brought back.

“JASPERRR!” Nick exclaims, throwing his arms up, but then dropping them immediately. “Woahhh, my arms feel heavy…”

“Alright, let’s go.” Jasper said, grabbing Nick’s hands and pulling him off the chair.

“Slow down! I’m dizzy.” He exclaims, stumbling in his grip.

“I’m not even moving, hun.” The boy laughs, holding onto him so he wouldn’t fall.

“I don’t like this feeling. It’s like an out of body experience.” Nick demonstrates, clinging onto Jasper and looking around the room. “And I want my bed.”

“The sooner we get out of here, the sooner you get your bed.” Jasper confirmed, almost dragging him out the room and down the hallway, back to the waiting room.

“I told you to slow the fuck dowwwnnnn!” He exclaims, tripping over nothing but air.

“Sorry hun, I just can’t stand being here any longer. I want you to get comfortable and get some rest like you’re supposed to.” Jasper says, stopping so Nick can get his grip again.

In the car, Matt drove, Chris sat in the passenger seat and Nick and Jasper sat in the back, per usual. “Jasper, everything is spinning, it’s making me dizzy and everything is moving in slow motion. I don’t like it.” Nick slurred, laying his head on the curly haired boy’s shoulder as he cluelessly gazed at the ceiling.

“That’s normal, don’t worry. It’ll wear off.” Jasper claimed, rubbing his arm for comfort.

“You’re so high.” Chris stated with a giggle, looking behind them.

“HIGH?!” Nick snaps his head towards him before suddenly calming down. “Twenty years sober for nothing.”

“You didn’t smoke or take anything. It was so you wouldn’t feel anything during the surgery.” Matt explained. “And besides, you aren’t even sober, you were smoking weed last week.”

“Surgery? What did you guys do to me?” He slurred, over exaggerating hand gestures. “Wait…if I’m high, does that mean my eyes are red?” He pulls on his under eyes to show more of his eyeballs.

“No, they’re still white.” Chris answered, recording.

“They didn’t give you marijuana, Nick. It was anesthesia.” Matt adds.

Nick pulls out his phone and turns on his camera, looking at his eyes. “If I’m gonna get high it might as well have been weed.” He sighs, putting his phone back in his pocket and laying on Jasper once again. “I want my bed.”

“You’ll get your bed, we’re almost home.” Jasper whispered, kissing the top of his head.

“Was there a lot of blood?” Nick wondered.

“What?” The other questioned, confused.

“During the surgery. Was there a lot of blood?”

“No, there was barely any. But, you are still bleeding in your mouth. That’s why you have the gauzes, it helps stop the bleeding.” Jasper confirmed, trying to be as reassuring as possible.

“I don’t like blood.” Nick comments.

“We know you don’t.” Chris responds.

“This car makes me feel sick.” The redhead said in a daze, bouncing his leg and slightly shaking.

“Hey, hey, calm down.” Jasper instructs, holding Nick’s hands. “I know you want your bed and you don’t like how you’re feeling but we’re almost home and you’ll feel better.”

After a few minutes of Nick panicking and everyone else in the car trying to comfort him the best way they can, he finally calms down and Matt finally pulls into their driveway.

Once they’re inside, Nick and Jasper go into his bedroom and lay down on his bed. “I’m so sad.” He comments.

“Why’s that, hun?” Jasper asked.

“I don’t know. It’s just…editing is starting to get stressful but I can’t edit now because I can barely move fingers. I’m so tired and I want to sleep but not tired enough to actually sleep, and I hate sleeping as well! An—and sometimes I’m worried that I’m not enough and I’m just a waste of space. Maybe I’m not funny, and I don’t look good with my red hair, and that I’m not good enough for you even though I’m trying my best. I don’t know how much longer I can actually try without giving up. Everything is just becoming too much and I just want to relax and take a break for once and to spend time with you without being busy or stressing about videos or editing. And I love talking but my mouth is starting to hurt from these gauzes or my “surgery” that I apparently got done without me knowing, which I don’t know why you’d do that to me! But my mouth is hurting from it and I’m always talking and always loud but now I won’t be able to be loud anymore. Sometimes, I’m really insecure about my voice because I have a loud ass voice and yell everything without meaning to!” Nick vented, his rant almost turning into nonsense.

“Well, you have a break right now. You’re on break for the whole month, no editing, no filming, nothing. And you’re not a waste of space. You’re really funny, I’ve never laughed harder with anyone but you, you look handsome with your red hair and mullet, and you are more than enough for me. You are everything I’ve ever wanted, and I love you so much. If it makes you feel better, I love your loud ass voice.” Jasper claimed, laying down next to him and holding him close. “Also, you chose to get that surgery. We can’t force you to do anything.”

“You think I’m stubborn?”

“Oh, I don’t think, I know you’re stubborn. But I think that’s why you made it so far. You refuse to give up and you made it to almost six million subscribers and you’re very successful. Being stubborn is a good thing, darling.”

“Mkay, I’m going to sleep now.” Nick stated, changing positions to get more comfortable.

“Alright babe, I’m right here if you need anything.” Jasper replied, but it was too late. Nick was already out. He sighs and gets up, making sure he was the correct pain killers out for when he wakes up.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo

[phantasmiafxndom]

Having a wet dream of being dommed by gn!reader and the awkward interactions afterward? W/ any TWST character(s) u want :D Please and Thank you in advance! Feel free to ignore if you don't feel up to itt

I'll pick a few that seem interesting! :D

. . .

Ruggie

• He's... not exactly sure how to feel about this. The dream involved him getting pinned face-down, ass-up, manhandled by his tail, and fucked until he was sobbing. Now that it's had some time to process, Ruggie is having an internal conflict about whether he should be deeply ashamed of himself or just roll with it. It's not that weird, right...? The real issue is that he can't stop thinking about it, and that's just making things awkward.

• In the end, Ruggie manages to convince himself it's fine... until he runs into you. As soon as you smile and say hello, his mind snaps right back to the hazy image of you holding him down. At that point, it's not hard to guess that something's wrong with him. Ruggie flees the situation as quickly as possible. He really, really wanted to act like nothing was different, but the immediate flush of heat that hit him upon seeing you has him burying his face in his hands with a whine as soon as he's alone. This is awful.

Vil

• For a little bit, as he wakes up, Vil doesn't quite track what's real and what's not. He's drifting under the lingering bliss... right up until reality comes crashing down. After that, he's just plain horrified. Why his subconscious would provide such a detailed fantasy of you spoiling him with praise and soft touches, making him melt and whine while you... Okay. This is bad. Even the detailed steps of his morning routine can't clear his head.

• And as the day goes on, it only gets worse. The longer Vil has to steep in his shame, the more it eats at him. He's distracted and tense all day, trying so hard not to think about how a mere dream could make him flush and fidget even hours later... and then, he runs into you. For once, he's not managing to be quite so dignified. Vil knows he's doing a terrible job of acting normal, but he just can't pull it together. He winds up snapping at you, his temper flaring up to try to spare him some measure of pride.

Sebek

• It takes a minute for the memory of the dream to register, but as soon as it does, Sebek is furious. The details are hazy, but he can all-too-clearly picture himself kneeling at your feet, nuzzling into your hand while your shoe was pressed right up against— Nope. He's ignoring that thought forever. Every part of this situation has him in an awful mood, and that takes the form of even more volume, a shorter temper, and a blush that won't go away.

• When he sees you for the first time that day, he almost breaks whatever's in his hands. You'd better hope you don't try to start a conversation, because it's not going to end well... for him. In the process of sputtering out his indignant, borderline incoherent response to his own shame, Sebek is sadly bound to let something slip. He's too agitated to realize when he's said it, but there's at least one way-too-obvious hint about what's bothering him. And that's if he's lucky enough to still be subtle.

Idia

• The poor guy jolts awake in the early hours of the morning, drenched in a cold sweat, and so, so hard. And he remembers everything. As Idia lies there, still painfully aroused, the only coherent thought in his head (the rest is just screaming) is sincere regret for whatever hentai decided to curse him. The dream was downright explicit. He's trying very hard not to think about it, but imagining you fulfilling so many of his favorite tropes...

• In the end, Ortho has to all but drag him out of bed. Leaving his room is impossibly more terrifying now that the dream is weighing on his mind... and when you pop out of seemingly nowhere to say good morning, Idia barely holds in a shriek. He can't speak to you at all. It feels like he's either going to cry or be sick, and when you, concerned, press the back of your hand to his forehead, the contact sends a shock right to his dick. At that point, he's just going to retreat to his room and stay there.

Ace

• Snapping awake with a yelp and a full-body jolt is already unpleasant, but when Ace registers the stickiness in his underwear and the lingering memory of you with your hand wrapped around his dick, edging him until he couldn't think of anything but begging... his brain short-circuits for a second. When he's finally able to think clearly and haul himself out of bed, he doesn't know whether to be pissed or just plain embarrassed.

• As it turns out, embarrassment wins. Ace makes it through maybe two minutes of semi-normal interaction with you before the lingering memories of the dream bring shame crashing down. The moment a distant echo of good boy flashes through his head, there's no recovering. Of course, Ace takes out his panic by being an utter jerk. By the time he storms off, you'll be left wondering what could have left him in such a foul mood... and why he kept turning increasingly red every time he made eye contact.

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Ruggie #Ruggie Bucchi #Vil #Vil Schoenheit #Sebek #Sebek Zigvolt #Idia #Idia Shroud #Ace #Ace Trappola #Headcanon #Reader #TWST Canon #Lemon

[viscerax]

Don’t know if I can request here, so if I can’t I’m sorry :( but if so, can I request hcs of finney dating a cheerleader? Maybe cheerleader defending finney with fluff??

Finney Dating a Cheerleader HC's

Okay so, this man was absolutely FLABBERGASTED when he found out you liked him too.

Hes had girls pretend to ask him out as a prank/a form of bullying, so he figured thats just what you were doing

I think he tried to ask you out first, but got super nervous and ended up asking to borrow a pencil... after school.

You asked him out after one of his baseball games. His game ended like 30 minutes after your cheer practice was out, so you ran from the school to the baseball field in time to watch the last ten minutes of the game and asked him out afterwards

Finney just stood there like "Huh??? Me??? 🧍‍♂️" he definitely thought you were either pranking him or you had just gotten him mixed up with someone else.

First date was a football game. Which was a weird date because the two of you didn't really get to hang out until after the game

Finney is SO SO AKWARD. You're his first for everything. First kiss, first partner, first girl to hold his hand, everything.

You constantly joke about how he would probably look good in your uniform, and although he'd never admit it, he's kind of curious now

Now a small scenario

You knew that Finney wasn't popular. You knew about all the mean shit the other girls said about him. Sometimes they'd call him harmless things, like nerd, or weirdo, but what bothered you most was when they would constantly bring up his encounter with the Grabber.

The situation had scarred Finney, physically, mentally, emotionally. He acted like it didn't bother him to much, but you knew how badly it hurt him. So, no one got off without a few bruises from you if they ever brought it up, whether it was to his face or around other people. If you found out, they were done for.

Many people doubted you, since you were a cheerleader. But you could throw a few good punches.

One particular day, some bitch had whispered something to her friend while you were passing by in the hallways. Yoy stopped dead in your tracks, immediately tying your hair into ponytail and turned on the heel of your boots, a very fake smile spreading across your face.

"I'm sorry, what the fuck did you say, bitch?" Your fists were clenched at your sides, and suddenly the girl didn't seem too confident anymore.

"I said that your boyfriend is going to grow up and become some kind of serial killer. So I'd be careful if I were you. The bimbo girlfriend is always the first victim. Unless of course, you go along with him." The girl snickered to herself, but her laugh was cut off as you slammed your fist into her face, making the back of her head collide with her locker. Suddenly, everyone was paying attention. You grabbed a hold of the girls ponytail and tugged it so that she was looking directly into your eyes.

"Finney isn't a fucking serial killer. He's gone through something terrible, and a weak bitch like you would snap. But he didn't. He persisted. So maybe next time, you should be more careful about the lies and shit you say about other people. Especially Finney." You sighed and slammed her head into the lockers again before spinning on your heel, facing the crowd and smiling, taking your hair out of the ponytail and waving as you walked off.

#the black phone #the black phone x reader #black phone edit #headcanon #finney shaw #finney x reader #finney blake #reader is a fucking badass

[brandwhorestarscream]

a crackshipp here( for the baby one-shots)

tarn x prowl

Ooooh methinks... Prowl is the one carrying. Usually I'd cast Tarn, but hear me out: pampered captive carrier. I dont know how they got together, I don't know if it was a one night stand to relieve stress or this is a post-war peaceful resolution where everyone is on the same side and everything is a-okie dokie and they somehow started dating. DUNNO. BUT! I can tell you this for sure: Tarn is still a weird obsessive freak (affectionately) and as soon as he finds out Prowl is sparked up he takes matters into his own hands.

He doesn't let Prowl go anywhere without him. It doesn't matter if they're living on the Peaceful Tyranny or in an upscale apartment in Praxus, Prowl does not get to leave his vicinity without Tarn. He hates it. Tarn is obsessed with him, obsessed with the sparkling, and especially obsessed with the baby bump. He can't keep his servos off of it, always trying to touch and caress it and trying to get bitty to kick at him. It'd be sweet if it wasn't so annoying.

Prowl's ready to bite his helm off within the first few days. He has work to do and he cant very well get it done with this overgrown guard dog breathing down his neck and insisting he stay in berth all day! He's carrying, not dying, Primus! He practically has to beat Tarn back with a bat just to get enough privacy to bathe. And even then he stays right outside the door, "just in case". In case of what? Fuck if I know. He's paranoid. That's a decepticon sparkling he's carrying, he needs to ensure top care and safety at all times!

When the baby comes, you can bet your ass it's the tiniest, nubbiest little Praxian, all done up in orange and white with blue optics. Summery orange dreamsicle of a baby. Tarn can hold them in one servo. But before they van meet their sweet little angel, they have to get through the labor first. Prowl snaps a grand total of 8 of Tarn's fingers during the birth, and afterwards grabbed him by the throat, dragged him down with strength Tarn did not know he had, and snarled at him in a voice that would make Unicron proud, "You did this to me! Get the frag away from me! Get out, GET OUT!"

Tarn was promptly removed from the delivery room with his neck dented impressively and broken fingers kinda just dangling there. He gets fixed up afterwards, dw.

Once Prowl has finished possibly the most difficult herculean task of his life (and god knows he's undergone a lot of shit in just the last 4 million years alone), he goes completely limp on the berth and immediately loses consciousness. He doesn't get to see the bitty at first because of this, but the trade off is they're clean and dry when he comes back. They're also crying, doing that soft little newborn bleat that kinda sounds like a wee little goat. His arms are shaking and he can barely lift them, struggling to sit up and mumbling, "My spar'ling... l- lemme sssee'my spar'ling..." slurring cuz he's so exhausted but desperate to see them.

The newspark is carefully placed on his chassis and he turns his face to carefully kiss their forehelm, whispering that it's ok, he's here now, mommy's here... and they calm right down. The feel of his spark so close and the sound of his voice was just what they needed: the world is big and loud and bright and cold and so, so scary, but feeling his familiar presence makes it all ok.

When Tarn finally gets to see them after getting fixed up, they're both asleep, snuggled together on the berth. He truly doesn't mind, just gladly takes a seat to watch them. He's never seen such a peaceful expression on Prowl' face, and is definitely marveling at how incredibly tiny their child is. Listening to the sound of their tiny, frail systems, the way their vents makes the softest little puff everytime they exhale... it makes his chassis feel tight. Overfull. Warm, in a way he never has.

The first time he gets to hold the little dreamsicle he's shaking a little bit. He won't admit it, but he is. They're so small! They fit in a single servo! What if he breaks them, they're so fragile! He's never had to be careful with his hands before, not like this! He's made for breaking and crushing and hurting, not- not delicate cradling and gentle touches like this! Prowl rolls his optics and says he's doing fine. Warns that sparklings can sense emotions so much stronger than adults, and if he's stressed then the sparkling will stress and that will make them cry.

Once Prowl has recovered from birth and the three of them are released, Tarn tries so hard to be a good sire. He wants to be involved but in the beginning, there's really not that much their infant needs. It's just a lot of carrying and hushing and feeding and he feels like he's not doing enough. He's always hovering and worrying, asking if maybe the sparkling needs a bath or to be burped or to be put down for a nap. It's so much less chaotic than he thought it would be and that makes him anxious. Prowl is constantly rolling his optics and telling him it's fine.

Their sparkling is safe, they're healthy, they're happy. Their optics are bright, their spark is pulsing just as it should. They're refueling and recharging well, and they react to our EMs and our spark energy. You don't need to constantly be actively doing something: just being there with them is enough. Tarn's not good at just sitting around doing nothing, but sometimes that's just what a sparkling needs: to just be quietly held for hours on end. That's one of the most important parts of early bonding, quiet, intimate physical contact near the parental sparks. Prowl has never seen someone go quite so stir crazy over a baby before, but it's definitely amusing 🤭

Once the sparkling finally starts walking around, Tarn finally gets what he wanted... and immediately regrets it because they've got a full fledged wild child on their hands. Into everything, waaay too smart for their own good, incredibly curious, boundless energy, and extremely inclined to mischief, the whole nine yards. They're constantly chasing them around, constantly saying, "What's in your mouth?!", constantly pulling bitty fingers out of places they shouldn't be, and no amount of babyproofing can save them XD

#ask game #prowl x tarn #what would this ship name be lmfao

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Muzan fucking snatched Ingo I can't. It literally would be better if he died.

(Yeah civilians make better sense)

Another unrelated proposal but it's darker

There's a long arduous period in which Ingo was in like the weird Castle thing and he did have his memories.

He knew he wasn't supposed to be here. He wanted to go back to his brother.

he struggled

Until one day he broke (it took years but is is all worth it)

( it's a fun little Pet Project to Muzan all to create such a lovely little prize. a puppet at his very word ingo lucky he gets to keep his personality most of the time because he finds it so amusing)

(Muzan wants to break him he's going to let him keep his memories as he scrubs them away by hand practically killing his determination)

( this is what I'm saying by no Pokemon character would be this brutal man it has to be him)

oh, and that explains why nobody in the corps ever made the connection of "ingo was killed by demons and then immediately afterwards we were seeing a new twelve kizuki that seems to have power over darkness" it's bc it wasn't immediate. there were months (i don't necessarily see it taking years, but maybe) in between for them to assume he died, accept that, and forget that they never technically confirmed any bodies as his.

and what if during that entire time, while ingo's struggling to escape, muzan's also slowly drip-feeding him his blood? he's had long enough to experiment that by now he knows exactly what doses he can give without snapping his mind and ruining his new toy (bc what muzan wants out of this isn't another loyal dog, he wants someone who can think, who can strategize, and if he keeps his personality too, well that's all the more fun), so it's also this slow, agonizing transformation, becoming less and less human, more of his memories slipping away with every step, and he desperately wants muzan to stop but there's also that addictive feeling, on some wretched base level, he wants more he wants to be stronger-

haha wouldn't that be fun.

#the nemesis speaks #the nemesis answers #anonymous #poke slayer

[out-of-control]

SOLO

words: 682

warnings: non-serious suicide mention, disordered eating mention

summary: jax reflects after headlights.

When Jax wakes up, alone, he realizes he’s wearing a Metz shirt. The first thought he has is, I have to kill myself. The second thought is, I have to kill Jim. The third thought is, I have to burn this shirt immediately. 

He balls it up and shoves it in the back of his closet. 

–

He’s an idiot, he thinks, banging his head against the kitchen cabinet as he pours water into the coffee maker. He’s such a fucking idiot for thinking someone like Jim would wanna be with him. He can’t believe he had the fucking gall to ask. Jax is not a relationships guy, his life can’t support them, literally everyone agrees. He’s a fun guy, a casual guy, a fling guy. He doesn’t even know why he thought he wanted something steady in the first place. 

Because he makes you feel so happy, a little voice in the back of his head says, and Jax calmly picks it up and strangles it. There’s no way Jax could last in a relationship anyway. He’s just not built for it. 

When’s the last time you slept with someone who wasn’t Jim? another little voice counters. Jax punts that one into space. Jim’s a fuckup, anyway, he pretty explicitly said as much, and, despite how much he likes the guy, Jax is lying if he says he can’t see what Jim means. 

A third little voice pipes up, what the fuck, are these fuckers multiplying, but this one has a more insidious lilt and it says If he loved you back none of it would matter to him, and Jax pauses, a hand already outstretched to snap its neck, and thinks, miserably, Point. 

The coffee maker beeps cheerily. Jax ignores it. Suddenly the thought of putting anything in his stomach makes him feel sick. 

–

Jax tries to avoid Jim afterwards, figures it’ll be weird, figures Jim probably doesn’t wanna see him after that whole fucking nightmare. 

He doesn’t even make it a week.

To his credit, at least it’s not because he cracked and called Jim. It’s just a freak accident. He happens to catch sight of Jim across the room, a Monday night party at some chick’s house, he doesn’t know her, he doesn’t care. Before his brain even catches up with his actions, he’s pushed himself off the wall and lurched over, Solo cup slopping over his hand in his haste. “Hey!”

Jim’s face brightens as he sees Jax and he turns away from the guy he’s talking to. “Hey yourself,” he slurs, clearly as drunk as Jax is, which is saying something. “Jax, this is–” 

Jax doesn’t care. He literally doesn’t care who this guy is. In fact, if he’s someone Jim is trying to fuck, Jax actually hates him, he thinks. Spurred by a sudden, vicious, incredibly uncharacteristic spike of jealousy, he completely bypasses even acknowledging the guy and goes straight for Jim’s mouth. 

Although he makes a sort of surprised noise, Jim sticks his own tongue down Jax’s throat pretty quickly, and lets Jax bend him over backwards, lets Jax kiss him hardcore and dirty in the midde of the room. Jax’s boot slips a little on the floor, and he realizes he dropped his cup to fist his hands in Jim’s shirt and didn’t even notice.  

I missed you, Jax thinks, inanely, because it hasn’t even been seven days. 

When they come up for air, the guy, whoever he was, is no longer there. A handful of people are giving them side-eyes, but Jax literally cannot be assed to care. A girl hoots from somewhere in the crush, “Get it, boys!” and Jax thinks, May as well give them a show. He turns back to Jim and pulls them flush, wrapping a hand around the back of his skull and kissing him even more messily. Jim doesn’t seem to mind, gripping Jax’s lower back tight and slipping a thigh between Jax’s legs. 

Pulling away, Jax shouts, over the music, “Hey. You wanna find someplace quieter?” 

Jim nods, and together they stumble out of the room. 

#words

[kingrove-a]

he´s stuck. stuck between feeling helpless and so, so angry with no way to relieve himself of it AGAIN. he can feel it building underneath his skin, the way it pushes against the boundaries and threatens to explode in spectacular fashion. in a way, it´s almost sickeningly familiar. for the past year he´s found himself lost, almost missing the anger and rage that had always come to him so easily whenever he´d left the hargrove house with new bruises, with new cutting words echoing in his ear. he´d thought that feeling angry was at least better than feeling nothing            but now that he´s back here again? he feels sick. he forgot that this particular kind of rage was always accompanied by HUMILIATION. 

every time billy walks through the bland hospital halls and sits in the cheap, creaking chair right next to the machine that monitors the life of max in a steady beat he feels it flare up again and again. he´d been there, he was right there and it didn´t matter one fucking bit. none of it did because that fucker didn´t even die in the end. once again, billy was STUCK watching, STUCK doing jack shit, STUCK taking hit after hit without a chance of retaliation. 

he feels like a pressure cooker about to burst ;; and meetings like this sure didn´t help the matter either. the group of them - the ones who know ; a group he´s officially a part of, no matter how far on the side. they sit and talk about shit they have no clue of, try to prepare for everything when no one has a clue what the hell is even coming. they all know they´re in the eye of the storm and shit is about to hit the fan and billy just needs to DO something. something other than standing in the corner listening to people talk and talk and talk. 

it´s ugly when the thread finally snaps - it´d only been a matter of time and billy had seen it coming from a mile away, but couldn´t be bothered to stop. old habits are hard to break, even if they leave him feeling like shit afterwards. in the moment, the release of all the pressure is all he cares about - in the way his fist impacts with the wood behind him, in the way his voice rises to a roar - the old chief and he are head to head and billy is daring him with flared nostrils and a raised chin ;; he knows the chief wants to take a hit, can see it in his eyes - they are so close, billy is so close to get what he wants when it´s the RUSSIAN out of all people who interferes. who gets hopper to back down and turn away - who leaves billy squaring off against empty space - all of the energy puffing out of existence, unsatisfying and more importantly unresolved. 

billy had left, then - not before the other man had caught his shoulder, telling him to meet him here again the next day ; a gesture billy had shrugged off immediately, bristling and on edge - a sharp don´t fucking touch me spit right at him - but he´d left, taking himself out of the equation before he could humiliate himself even more than he already had. did he make himself out to be a complete fucking fool? yeah. had he thought about ditching the weird foreigner, leaving him to wait all fucking day for him? absolutely. had this been a year ago, he probably would have. but he´s not the same, for better or for worse; billy is still unsure. 

  whatever it is, it makes him show up the coming day only twenty minutes or so late. a half smoked cigarette hangs loosely from his lips as he gets out of the camaro, cracking his neck as he slams the door shut, turning to @kamchatkatraitor​.      ❝    alright, i´m here. the fuck do you want ?   ❞

#kamchatkatraitor #v // I GOT ON MY KNEES AND I PRETENDED TO PRAY (s4) #// omg dont mind the length please i love to ramble lMAO #// please feel more than free to make this shorter hELP

[gallus-rising]

snippet of an overheard conversation between a city watchman and a walking corpse examining the body of a young man.

City Watchman: Okay, but it’s weird how he can turn into a puddle like that, right? I don’t think we talk about that enough.

Walking Corpse: Hmm, suppose so.

CW: I don’t know how that could possibly be natural.

WC: It’s not.

CW: What?!

WC: Yes. Before you ask, I don’t know how he does it, but he figured that trick out sometime around... hmm. *The walking corpse pauses, as if in deep thought.* Sometime between the fall of king Armeditis and when he lost his leg to that bear trap.

CW: King who-

WC, snapping his charcoal fingers: That’s right! He tried to use the bear trap to demonstrate the new trick. Didn’t go quite as planned, I think.

The two go back to working on the body in silence for a moment

WC: The surgeons had to hack off a decent chunk of his leg to get it free. When he woke up afterwards and saw... Well... He couldn’t very well do his job one legged, and they don’t make prosthetics for shapeshifters. Almost immediately he grabbed a scalpel and- *The walking corpse mimes stabbing and cutting open his gut*

CW: Good Lord.

WC, nodding: I’ll tell you though, he made himself a puddle doing that! *The walking copse wheezes a sound that might’ve been a laugh. The city watchman looks sickened.* Sorry, bad joke.

The body below them groans and begins to stir.

CW: Oh, fuck no. *In a flagrant display on inhuman power, the city watchman raises a hand in the air, then swipes it down in a chopping motion, conjuring [SPIRITUAL ARROWS; FORBIDDEN BOWMAN’S TECHNIQUE: ONE THOUSAND AND ONE NEEDLES] rendering the body to pulp in seconds.* Hey, now there’s a puddle for you!

The walking corpse doesn’t emote. He lost the ability to do so long ago.

CW: Bad joke?

#*furious pecking* #oc talk #just Conner and The Man doing research on an incapacitated Crow #nothing to see here

[thatotherfanfic]

Chapter 6: We Don't Have Time to Unpack All of That!

CW: Stalking (past tense), mentions of abuse, mentions of homophobia, panic attacks, oops we're in love

He'd never felt this safe before. Smooth sheets against his skin, a heavy comforter wrapped around him, his arm draped over someone soft and warm…

"Kazuichi." It sounded underwater. Kazuichi groaned and pushed his face into the shoulder in front of him. He shuffled closer, relaxing as a soft belly pressed into his, skin to skin. 

"Not going," he mumbled. "Don' need to go to school."

A bright laugh shook them both. Kazuichi tightened his hold and buried his face in a pillowy shoulder.

"Kazuichi. " That was Teruteru's voice, for sure. Kazuichi sighed and snuggled up to him. "This is lovely, but I have to get up."

"Bullshit," Kazuichi slurred. "Back to sleep…c'mon…"

Teruteru kissed his cheek. Kazuichi nosed around until he found his mouth, kissing it sloppily. Teruteru let out a breathy laugh, but then he pulled back.

"Kazuichi, wake up," he said, shuffling up to sitting. "Goodness, look at you. Do you even know what you're doing?"

Kazuichi whimpered and tried to pull him back, but he ended up with his face pressed into Teruteru's belly. Actually…that was really nice all on its own.

In the distance, he heard a grating beeping noise. What was that about? 

Then Teruteru pinched his arm. Hard. 

Read on AO3

"Ow!" Kazuichi's eyes flew open. He pulled his arm away, blinking heavily and trying to glare up at Teruteru in the dark…

Shit. Fuck! Where was he? Why was he in Teruteru's bed? Why were they snuggling together?

He scrambled back, cursing. Teruteru crawled after him. "What the hell are you doing?" Kazuichi squeaked, nearly falling off the bed.

"Keep your panties on," Teruteru said dryly. "I'm turning on the light." 

Teruteru crawled over Kazuichi's lap and stretched his arm out, and then the lamplight clicked on. Kazuichi sat frozen in place, clutching the blankets up to his chest as if he had boobs to protect. 

His eyes felt grainy and his lips felt sore and his stomach hurt. A lot, actually. It felt like he'd swallowed a bag of cement. Teruteru clicked off the alarm clock and reached into a colorful plastic bag. 

"Here." He unwrapped a chocolate truffle and popped it into Kazuichi's mouth.

"Mmph! Hey, what –"

"Don't swallow," Teruteru said with such authority that Kazuichi froze up immediately. "Suck on that while I get you something."

Kazuichi did. He shuffled back against the headboard, pulling the covers up to his chin and trying to make sense of everything as fast as possible.

He was in Teruteru's bed. He was naked in Teruteru's bed. Last night he asked Teruteru to cook for him, and he did, and then he asked Teruteru to blow him, and he did, and it was an amazing fucking time, and afterwards he felt so sleepy, he…he must have…

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he whimpered around the chocolate, his voice cracking. 

"Hm?" Teruteru looked over his shoulder. He was filling a kettle at the kitchenette sink. "I thought I just did."

"No, last night, asshole!" Kazuichi almost swallowed the chocolate on reflex. He pushed it into the side of his mouth with his tongue instead. It was a good-ass chocolate, at least. Fancy, probably. He'd definitely never be able to afford it himself. 

Teruteru shrugged. "You looked tired."

"Y-yeah, but – but –" Kazuichi spluttered. He was breathing quick and shallow through his nose. The chocolate melting in his mouth was the only thing keeping him sane. "Y-you didn't have to – I mean, not that I wanted – is this some pervy thing? Like I'm your – your little wife, or something?!"

Teruteru shot him a baleful look. "Your words, not mine." Kazuichi flushed hot. "And what did I say about calling me a perv?"

Kazuichi sucked hard on the chocolate. "To…not do it," he grumbled. He hugged his stomach. "Seriously, what's the big deal? It's the truth! You creep on people and say weird shit all the time!"

"I don't creep on people!" Teruteru snapped. He turned away to reach into a cupboard. "Anymore." 

"You did when we were first years," Kazuichi insisted, curling his knees up to his chest. He felt nauseous. "Don't try to say you didn't! I was there! Remember that one time we –"

"D'you really think I'm the same kid I was in first year?" Teruteru set a mug down hard on the countertop. "Lord!"

Kazuichi gulped. It felt good to throw barbs at Teruteru – well, maybe not good, but safe. Normal. But it set him on edge when Teruteru got angry like this.

"W-well –" He knew he was digging his own grave, but he couldn't stop himself. "What about last night? You like to feed me until I-I can barely move, and then you like to fuck me! Don't act like that isn't weird!"

"That's not pervy." Teruteru leaned against the counter and smoothed his hair back. In the lamplight, it was hard to read his expression. "That's kinky."

"Same difference," Kazuichi whimpered, but he curled in on himself. His stomach was waking up, and it was not happy about the condition he'd left it in.

Teruteru threw up his hands. The kettle started to sing, and he turned to pull it off the stove. "At least one of us has experienced personal growth over the past two years," he quipped. "For goodness' sake. I suppose you're the exact same person you were at fifteen too, are you?"

"Shut up." Kazuichi put his hand to his head. Thankfully his beanie had stayed on while he slept. "I-I was stupid back then." 

Had he changed? Other than growing a few inches and putting on some muscle, he looked about the same. Why should he change, anyway? He liked his hair and his jumpsuit and his hot pink color contacts…or he thought he did. 

After Hajime betrayed him last term, mirrors had stated showing him the same dumb reflection he thought he'd abandoned in middle school: a pathetic crybaby hiding behind neon colors and fawning over cool kids who would never like him back…

He swallowed the chocolate. Maybe he hadn't changed at all. Maybe he'd never change. Maybe he couldn't.

"My point exactly," said Teruteru. Kazuichi's throat tightened up. "And isn't your life better since you stopped that ridiculous behavior towards Sonia?"

Kazuichi gulped. He pulled his beanie down lower. "No," he growled. "I feel worse. At least I was happy in first year. Now I –" 

His throat closed up. That wasn't really true. He felt happy in second year too, when he hung out with Hajime all the time. But ever since the end of last term…no, before that, ever since Hajime started blowing him off to hang out with Nagito…

When was the last time he felt happy? Did he even know? He screwed up his face and pressed his forehead against his knees. 

"Why do you care so much, anyway?" Kazuichi mumbled, trying to steer the conversation back somewhere safe. "I never see you get mad when anyone else calls you a perv."

Teruteru walked over and set something down on the bedside table. "We are not nearly good enough friends for me to answer that," he said cheerfully. He tapped Kazuichi's shoulder. "For your stomachache. I'm gonna take a shower. Chin up, okay?"

He kissed Kazuichi just next to his ear. Kazuichi squeaked and pulled back, spluttering as Teruteru disappeared into the bathroom, humming to himself. 

Kazuichi blinked hard. He was tearing up, of fucking course. He blamed sleeping in his contacts. If Teruteru had just woken him up last night, this wouldn't have happened …

The sound of the shower hissing to life brought him back to the present moment. The present, where he was sitting curled up in Teruteru's bed, naked except for his beanie, with a stomachache from hell, clenching his teeth and trying not to cry.

He glanced at the bedside table. Teruteru had left a mug of tea and a pink Pepto-Bismol. He sniffed it, then popped it in his mouth. It tasted like cherries.

The tea made him feel a little better. Not a lot. Teruteru was making him think about Hajime, and first year, and middle school, and whether or not it was his fault everybody hated him, and that sort of thing usually ended with Kazuichi guzzling three or four sodas and panicking until the sugar rush kicked in.

He pulled the comforter around him like a cocoon. That bag of chocolates was sitting open in arms reach, so it was definitely fair game. He grabbed one and unwrapped it shakily, then popped it in his mouth and sucked hard.

Miss Sonia. God, he tried not to think about her. That part of his life was so embarrassing…

—

Two years ago, their homeroom teacher Ms. Usami took them all on a class trip to the beach. Kazuichi was ecstatic. Girls in swimsuits? Miss Sonia in a swimsuit? He wouldn't shut up about it. Everyone probably hated that.

Back then he spied on people all the time – pretty girls, cool guys who wouldn't talk to him, teachers who might be about to spill the beans on what they'd cover on the test next week – and in retrospect it was creepy and weird, and no wonder nobody liked him.

So one day, of course, he decided to spy on Miss Sonia while she and the other girls laughed and chatted on a secluded section of the beach.

"I so detest that Kazuichi!" Miss Sonia had said, and his heart leapt into his throat. (She was talking about him! ) "It is impossible to feel safe when he is around. How I wish someone in authority would address his behavior!"

Every single girl nodded in agreement. That threw him a little bit.

"That's always how it goes." Mahiru shook her head. She was taking pictures of a group of birds diving into the sea. "Boys act like creeps, and no one does anything to stop them. It's disgusting."

"'Boys will be boys,'" Ibuki mocked in a singsong voice. Everyone groaned.

Akane looked up from burying Ibuki's legs in the sand. "Don't worry, Sonia. We've got your back. If that twiggy little skeeve tries anything, I'll teach him a thing or two!"

She flexed a huge bicep. Kazuichi, who was hidden behind a large leafy plant, had to bite back a squeak of terror.

Hiyoko scoffed. She was lounging on a beach chair in the shade, still wearing a lightweight kimono. "Don't bother. Let's just have Peko run him through with her sword and save us all the trouble."

Peko stopped cycling through fencing positions long enough to look over at Hiyoko, her expression oddly blank. "Is that a serious request?" she asked in a low voice, as if someone had asked her to pick up a gallon of milk. 

Akane, Ibuki, and Hiyoko burst out laughing. After a second, Sonia started to laugh, too. Kazuichi gulped and sank lower into the weeds. That was a harsh joke, but…it was just a joke, right?

"Part of me wishes you would," she said, smiling brightly, "but I would not have any of us risk jail time on his account."

"He's soooo not worth it," Hiyoko agreed. Everyone nodded. 

"On the bright side, I don't think any of the guys like him either," said Akane. "Except maybe that Teruteru kid."

Hiyoko gagged. "Ew, don't bring up that pig. You'll make me vomit." 

"Wait, wait, Ibuki has an idea!" Ibuki jumped up, scattering sand everywhere. "Kazuichi and Teruteru should so totally get together! Then they can creep on each other instead of us, and they'll both love it!"

Everyone dissolved into laughter. Well, except for Peko and Chiaki, and even Peko had a small smile on her face. 

Kazuichi's heart stopped. Then it sped up like crazy, and blood rushed into his face, and he thought he might throw up.

"I'm not gay!" he wanted to scream, but that would blow his cover, and apparently murder might be on the cards if anyone caught him out here.

"That's disgusting!" Hiyoko crowed, throwing her head back and cackling.

"No, it's amazing!" Akane cried. "They're perfect for each other!"

"They deserve each other," Mahiru corrected, smirking. She snapped a few photos of her friends, most of them looking happier than Kazuichi had ever seen before. He wished they would go back to insulting him.

Chiaki looked up from her video game. "People like that are usually very unhappy with themselves…I think," she said, placing a finger to her mouth in thought. "I wonder…would a relationship like that make them happier, or would they make each other worse?"

"Worse, I hope," Hiyoko said with an evil smile. "I wanna see them destroy each other."

"Wait!" Sonia clasped her hands together. "Stop this at once! I have something important to say!"

For a moment – one stupid, delusional moment – Kazuichi thought she might defend him. He held his breath.

"I have thought of a 'ship' name for them," Sonia said, barely containing her laughter. "Stalker x Stalker!"

Chiaki laughed suddenly. That set off the rest of the girls again, except Akane, who looked confused.

"Huh? What's the joke? I don't get it."

Kazuichi didn't stick around to hear them explain. He snuck away from the beach as quietly as he could, face burning, stomach twisting, heart slamming against his chest. It weirdly hurt to breathe. He walked back to the boys' cabin, holding his stomach and gulping back tears. 

They were laughing at him. He could take it if girls didn't like him – detested him, even – but they weren't supposed to make fun of him! They weren't supposed to casually say they wished he was dead and then joke about him hooking up with a dude!

"I'm not that pathetic, am I?" he whispered to himself, curled up alone inside the boys' cabin. Everyone else was out having fun, like normal people. "I'm not weird! When you're into a girl, you've gotta…I mean, Dad says you're not supposed to give up…a-and she's really pretty, so I have to be into her, right?! A-and so I – it's not my fault! I didn't do anything wrong!"

He spent the rest of the beach trip pretending everything was fine, desperately trying to prove he was into Miss Sonia (and not guys), and pointedly not stalking anyone. It didn't make anyone like him any better. On the last day, Ms. Usami found him having a panic attack in the stairwell to the dining hall, and he had to pretend he was having an allergic reaction to shellfish.

So no. Looking back on it, his life had not improved after he stopped creeping on Miss Sonia. Because now he knew all the girls were laughing at him, and all the guys hated him. And at first he thought it wasn't his fault, this was just how he was, this was how he grew up, but…

"Because you're a jerk," Teruteru had said last night. "You're completely self-centered. You don't care about what other people want. You only care about yourself."

Third-year Kazuichi pulled his beanie over his eyes and shoved a few more chocolates into his mouth. He was sitting in a snowfall of shiny wrappers now, sniffling and gulping as he tried to force the wheels in his brain to stop spinning. 

It was his fault, then. Teruteru was right. It was his fault everyone laughed at him and Hajime left him and nobody wanted to be around him anymore.

What was he supposed to do about that?

— 

Teruteru fully expected Kazuichi to be gone by the time he left the shower, but there he was, curled up on his side and covered in candy wrappers. The bag of chocolates was half empty. Teruteru clicked his tongue.

"Shouldn't'a left that out," he said to himself, and Kazuichi curled in tighter on himself. Teruteru had thought he'd gone back to sleep. 

"Are you planning on running away soon?" Teruteru asked lightly. "I'm gonna make a quick breakfast. I'll make you a bit if you'd like." 

Kazuichi sniffed. "It's fucking…not even five thirty," he mumbled, pulling the blankets tighter around himself.

"Thus is the life of a chef," Teruteru lamented, pulling eggs out of the fridge. "Honestly, I don't know why I have to help with breakfast. Lunch and dinner are so much more cultured, don't you think? After I graduate, I'm not going to work anything but evening shifts." 

He glanced back at the bed. Kazuichi didn't say anything. He was tearing a candy wrapper into shreds. 

Here comes the temper tantrum, Teruteru thought, but he couldn't help feeling a pinch of worry. A quiet Kazuichi wasn't usually a good sign.

"Do you drink coffee?" he asked. "I'll make you a cup."

Kazuichi shrugged. "That shit knocks me out," he mumbled, starting on a new wrapper. Teruteru took that as a yes.

"Doing alright over there?" he asked a few minutes later, when Kazuichi had failed to do anything other than destroy candy wrappers and wipe his nose on the pillowcase. Teruteru risked leaving their omelets for half a second so he could toss Kazuichi a box of tissues.

"You know, I'm getting a little concerned about how much you cry," he said, as if he were joking. "It seems excessive." 

Kazuichi put the pillow over his head. He didn't say anything else until Teruteru had plated up the omelettes and came over to shake his shoulder, certain he had fallen asleep again.

"I don't wanna get up," Kazuichi said, head still under the pillow.

"Well, you have to," Teruteru said. He pulled the pillow away and handed Kazuichi his clothes. "Your breakfast will get cold. Besides, I'm not leaving you in here all day."

Kazuichi pushed himself up to sitting. He refused to meet Teruteru's eyes. 

"I don't wanna get up, ever, anymore," he grumbled. He hugged his knees to his chest and blinked hard. "There's no point. I wish I could just crawl into a ditch and die." 

Teruteru stared, slack-faced. Kazuichi gulped and hugged his clothes to his chest. 

"Wow," Teruteru said, unsure exactly how to respond. He laughed nervously and tapped his forefingers together. "So, remember when I said you might be depressed?" 

"Shut up, I'm not depressed." Kazuichi glared at him. His eyes looked horribly red and puffy. He sniffed as he yanked on his underwear and shoved his legs into his jumpsuit. "I-I just – I was joking." 

"Crying for a joke, huh? Very committed –"

"Stop it!" Kazuichi's voice broke. He stood up and grabbed the bedpost for support. "Stop – stop making those little comments that sound nice but you're actually making fun of me. I hate that! Just yell at me, like a normal person!"

Teruteru held up his hands. He retreated to the table. "Noted. Not to cut this conversation short, but I do have a kitchen to get to, so I'm going to eat my breakfast before it gets cold."

He started on his omelette, and to his relief, Kazuichi followed suit. Even if he dumped almost the entire sugar bowl into his coffee and followed it with an obscene amount of milk, at least he wasn't lying around with that dead-eyed stare anymore.

Teruteru watched him carefully as he ate. He'd expected a panicked outburst this morning, definitely tears, maybe even a fight. But to see Kazuichi withdrawn like this was somehow much worse. It looked like he was thinking hard, and to Teruteru's knowledge, Kazuichi really wasn't the thinking type.

"You know I'm here for you if you ever want to talk," Teruteru said. He rested his chin in his hand and tried to look bored. "I won't tell anyone. My lips are sealed."

Kazuichi swallowed hard. He had just bolted half the omelette in two seconds, and now he looked on the verge of tears. 

"It's just…" His voice was very high. "I'm – I'm having a really hard time right now."

Tears spilled over his cheeks as he dug into the omelette again, wiping his face on his shoulder and cursing between bites. Teruteru drank his coffee in patient silence.

"Cause like –" Kazuichi gulped the rest of the omelette and hunched over his coffee. "I was fine, everything was fine until Hajime left me – and then I started freaking out, and then the thing with you happened, and now everyone's laughing at me, and I don't wanna see them anymore, but they're everywhere, so what am I supposed to do? Stay in my room forever? And the worst part is that I did this all to myself, because I was a stupid, stupid kid, and I'm stupider now, and I – I don't know what to do! Where am I supposed to go? Home? My old man will kill me when he sees this!" 

He pointed to the love bite just above his collarbone. Teruteru frowned. 

"Your dad's against you getting laid?"

"If I'm getting laid by a guy, he is!"

Teruteru waved his hand dismissively. "Then don't tell him. I'll help you make up a story –"

"I can't lie!" Kazuichi snapped, staring wildly into Teruteru's eyes. "You've seen me! I suck at lying, and he'll know, and he'll beat the shit out of me, and he'll kick me out, and I c-can't…I can't do that, I can't! He's the only person I have left, you don't understand –"

Kazuichi was crying in earnest now, gasping for breath and sobbing between words. Teruteru sat facing him helplessly. It felt like someone had knocked the wind out of him. 

"Hey," he said, scooting his chair closer. He was gonna be late, but this was more important. "Hey, look at me. It's gonna be alright."

"No, it's not!" Kazuichi yelled. He started hyperventilating. Teruteru had seen a fair number of Kazuichi's panic attacks before, everyone had, but this was a whole new level. Kazuichi looked scared for his life.

Tentatively, Teruteru reached out and touched Kazuichi's hand. Kazuichi sobbed and grabbed hold.

"Well, look," Teruteru said softly. "Right now you're safe. Right now I'm here. So –"

Kazuichi shook his head. "You're leaving," he interrupted, his voice shaking. "Y-you said so. You have to go to your…kitchen thing, or whatever…"

"You mean my practical hours for my talent?" Teruteru drew back in mock offense, squeezing Kazuichi's hand. "Don't 'or whatever' that!"

"Y-yeah, well…" Kazuichi sniffed, his typical defensive tone creeping back into his raw voice. "I will if I want to. What else am I supposed to call it? It's not a job; they're not paying you."

"It's wage theft is what it is," Teruteru said. He handed Kazuichi a napkin. "Which is why I'm completely fine staying with you until you calm down. They'll survive without me for one morning."

"I –" Kazuichi gulped. "I am calm. I'm fine. That was – that was –" He sucked in a sharp, shuddering breath. "Ignore that."

"Will not," Teruteru countered. 

Kazuichi blew his nose one-handed. "You're such an asshole," he whimpered, but his breathing was coming back to normal.

Teruteru wished the bag of chocolates wasn't so far away. Then again, Kazuichi had already eaten his fair share of them, and they might just make him feel worse.

He wished Kazuichi wasn't so afraid of non-sexual intimate touching. It was killing him not to sit on his lap and kiss the tears away. 

Kazuichi, for his part, seemed to be coming down from his panic attack. He sipped his coffee and took deep, shaky breaths. "I didn't mean to tell you any of that," he mumbled. "It – it was that dumb omelette."

"Oh, it was the omelette?" Teruteru said, amused. He scooted his chair just a little bit closer. Their knees interlocked, just barely brushing each other. "I've never seen my cooking do that before."

"Sh-shut up." Kazuichi wiped his nose on the back of his hand. "Your food makes me feel…things. Like…shit, I don't know. Stuff I'm trying not to think about. It all just kinda hits me."

"Really?" Teruteru stroked his chin. "I'll have to remember that. I'll admit, I'm surprised you keep coming back for more."

Kazuichi shuffled his feet. "Well…" He gulped. "I-it's good! It makes me feel better! Don't read into it too much. It's just food."

Teruteru put his hand to his heart. "If you keep saying that, I really am going to have to get back to breakfast."

He chucked Kazuichi's chin. Kazuichi spluttered. His face was already red from crying, but Teruteru saw his throat bob. "Fine! I'm doing better anyway. It's not like I needed you to stick around."

"Ground rules," Teruteru reminded. "Remember?"

"Oh, fuck your ground rules!" Kazuichi huffed. He leaned his elbows on his knees, bringing his face inches from Teruteru's. "I'll say what I want…"

He trailed off. His eyes dropped to Teruteru's mouth; he wet his lips. Teruteru's breath caught in his throat. Their hands still rested intertwined on Kazuichi's lap. He felt Kazuichi adjust his grip, his palm hot and very sweaty.

This was silly. They'd already made out three separate times, and two out of the three had ended in sex. Teruteru should just close the gap already.

But this felt different. It was so obviously non-sexual, and Kazuichi had made it very clear what he wanted out of this relationship. Besides, Teruteru didn't want to send him into another panic attack. The first one had been heartbreaking enough.

So he waited. Kazuichi shifted forward, and Teruteru's heart leapt into his throat.

Then Kazuichi let go of his hand and stood up abruptly, pushing the chair back. He wiped his hands on his jumpsuit and gulped audibly. 

"I should – you should go," he said, eyes darting about the room. He cleared his throat. "Don't wanna make you late."

Teruteru stood up as well, shoving down his disappointment. "Yeah. You're right. I reckon –" Now he cleared his throat. "I expect they're struggling without me."

"And I need to…" Kazuichi glanced at the clock. "Jeez, it's early. M-maybe I can find a job or something this morning, get some cash…"

Teruteru nodded, clearing the table. "That sounds like a good idea."

"Yeah, cause I'm totally broke, and I haven't been able to buy a Coke in like twenty-four hours, which is totally why I freaked out back there…"

"Twenty-four hours?" Teruteru deposited the dishes in the sink. "That sounds like an addiction."

"Shut up!" Kazuichi scratched the back of his neck, pushing his beanie out of place. He jerked it back down and cleared his throat again. "Anyway, thanks for…uh, breakfast."

"Anytime." Teruteru nodded. "Oh, um, hold on. Before you go…" He hurried into the bathroom and returned holding a stick of concealer. "Use this to cover that mark, if you want people to leave you alone. Um, it may be a tad dark for your skin, but…well, you're greasy enough that people shouldn't notice."

"Hey!" Kazuichi's voice cracked. He pocketed the concealer. "I'm not that greasy!"

Teruteru clicked his tongue. "If you say so…"

They left at the same time, checking the hall for any witnesses before they slipped out into the early morning. Kazuichi cleared his throat again as Teruteru turned away.

"Do you think…uh, tonight, we could…" He looked away, an insecure smile on his face as he flicked his tongue out for just a moment. It was a nervous tic of his that Teruteru hadn't seen for quite a while. He hadn't realized he missed it.

"Tonight?" Teruteru was pretty sure he'd planned to hook up tonight with someone he'd met online, but that hardly mattered. He'd cancel it. Or postpone it, at the very least. "Sure, why not? Craving anything in particular?"

Kazuichi's face brightened. "Um, well…I didn't really get to try that stew. Back when we first, uh…you know."

Teruteru nodded. "Understood. Well, I'll look forward to it."

This time, the blush on Kazuichi's face was unmistakable. He nodded, shifting from foot to foot.

Someone's door handle rattled. Kazuichi blanched and scrambled to his room like a startled rabbit.

That broke the spell. Teruteru hummed to himself as he hurried to the kitchens, enjoying the heat in his face, and electing to ignore the tug of sadness in his heart that wished Kazuichi had kissed him instead of running away.

It's just sexual favors, he reminded himself. We've been very clear with each other. There's no point in catching feelings that aren't going to be returned, so stop mooning over him and enjoy what you have!

That night he fed Kazuichi until he could barely breathe, then took his time fingering his asshole and stretching him out until Kazuichi cried from overstimulation. After he'd played with him a little more, touching and kissing him until Kazuichi begged to be filled, the screams and curses and pleads for more were the sweetest music Teruteru had ever heard. 

Kazuichi fell asleep in his bed again, hugging him tight. In the morning, they ate pancakes in awkward silence.

"Can…can we do it again tonight?" Kazuichi asked at the door, not quite meeting Teruteru's eyes.

That would be four nights in a row. He should really give himself a break. Truly, he should give Kazuichi's stomach a break. It was a mystery where this guy put it all.

But one look at Kazuichi's unsure, eager face erased all his self-control. He nodded.

"It would be my pleasure," he said. He winked. Kazuichi blushed and ducked out of the room. 

As soon as the door closed, Teruteru's smile fell.

"Honestly, Teruteru." He pinched his cheeks. "Get it together!"

He saw Kazuichi eating breakfast again late that morning (honestly, this man was impressive), arguing with Ibuki over nothing, and a warm rush of affection rose up into his chest.

There was a possibility he was well and truly screwed. He might just have to live with that. 

#kink fic #teruteru x kazuichi #teruteru hanamura #kazuichi soda #wg fiction #panic attack #danganronpa v2 #idiots in denial #don't like don't read #takes one to know one fanfic

[hotwings0203]

Guys I’m having another Bakugo brainrot

Tw: bullying, noncon, nonconsensual peeping, manipulation

Remember that one episode of MHA where the class goes to the sauna and M*neta tries to check da girls out over the wall?

Imagine the same scenario, but years later when they’re all older

The class wanted a reunion, just to relax and blow off some steam

You’re with the girls, and you all lay back in the hot water reminiscing about the older days when everyone was still getting the hang of their own quirks

Mina brings up this exact same scene but years ago.

“Ohmigosh, do you guys remember the last time we came in our first year here and Mineta totally tried to get a peek at us?”

“Ugh, I hope Iida is keeping a good hold on him right now,” Ochacko giggles, kicking her feet up to rest on a rock

You hum in agreement, tilting your head back to rest against the wooden wall separating you and the boys.

As it was, Uraraka was almost spot on with her hopes. Except, Iida and Tokoyami were out getting refreshments for the rest of the boys, leaving the remaining group to their own plot.

Which was lead by Mineta, of course, who had the brilliant idea to spy on the girls, just like they almost did years back.

“Guys, come on, please they’re right there!” He practically salivates, wildly gesturing to the tall wooden wall in front of them.

Most of them shift uncomfortably and groan about him being a creep as usual, but the rest stay silent.

Mineta takes their lack of outright refusal as fuel to keep blabbering.

“Look, we almost got away with it back then-“

“-You mean you got away with it, we didn’t do shit. And you didn’t exactly get off scot-free, Kota completely demolished your attempts and you landed ass down on Four-Eyes’ face,” Bakugo drawls, leaning his head backwards and looking up at the obsidian sky. The boys laugh, remembering the ridiculous event.

The night is cool, the stars littering the inky atmosphere take the pressure off of Bakugo’s lungs. For weeks now they’ve been training like dogs, battling each other and even minor villains for extra practice of their quirks. This trip was supposed to be a leisure getaway, not a free porno.

But the grape-headed perv is insistent, scoffing and waving the blond’s quip off like some annoying fly.

“You know, there’s something in it for you too, Bakugo. I’ve seen the way you look at Y/N.”

This causes a murmur and a couple of light beers towards the blond, who in turn snarls and ignites his hand to quell the commotion. All of them had an inkling that Katsuki Bakugo had finally set his sights on some poor girl, and that was you. It was such a rare sight to see his face flush slightly when you walked past him, the way he stuttered over his words a bit when you two would be conversing amongst the same group, and best of all, when they would see how he would excuse himself to the bathroom or locker room occasionally when your hero suit would tear in certain places after battles.

“Shut the fuck up 3’2, unlike you I don’t need to ogle at those brain dead bimbos.”

“Oh? I didn’t realize you thought of Y/N as a ‘brain dead bimbo’, Bakugo, I’ll be sure to let her know how you feel” Mineta grinned maliciously, and the boys ‘oooo’ed at the jab.

Bakugo’s voice caught in his throat.

“You wouldn’t,” he growled, rising slightly out of the water.

“I already know you’ll kill me afterwards, but I’m prepared for the repercussions if you don’t help...cooperate here,” Grapehead inspected a cuticle and feigned a yawn.

“Come on Bakugo, it’s not like it’s gonna hurt anyone! Well keep this to ourselves,” Denki chimed in a little too eagerly.

“Yeah, I mean, we’re only asking for your and everyone’s support so that we can focus better on training y’know? A little fun never killed anyone.” Sero threw his arm over Kirishima’s shoulder, who blushed at the whole ordeal but kept silent all the while.

Katsuki looked around. Slowly, others were starting to really listen in and look interested at the outcome of Mineta’s plan. Surely a little peeping wouldn’t be too bad would it? And plus, it was only a one time thing.

Shoto was faring the same way as Kirishima, quiet and maybe embarrassed at what they were planning on doing, but no outright refusal. Even Deku had a weird longing glint in his eye, the same kind he would get when he used to fawn over All Might.

He thought about it for a minute more, a chance to see you, naked, honest, and pure, splashing around with your friends as you let your femininity dangle as it pleased.

“Do whatever the hell you want. I’m not taking blame if the bird and glasses come back, though.”

Hushed cheers and excited murmurs erupt from around the spring, and they huddle together to form a plan.

A couple minutes later, the boys were grouping around the wooden panels. Todoroki had burned a hole into the soft wood, and sero had used his transparent tape to cover it up so that the girls couldn’t see it from their side.

And there they were, completely bare, hair flowing, curves showing, voices mature and high pitched giggles emanating from around the water and bank.

Bakugo seeks you out immediately after the hole is made, shoving his way through the crowded bodies much to the amusement of others. But he doesn’t care, all he wants at the moment is to see you in your most honest element.

He doesn’t have to look long, because you’re right there, you’re right in front of them, only a few meters away. Your back is facing them, but the sight of your smooth, naked back and the round curve of your ass squishing against the rocks underneath you is enough to make Bakugo’s cock bob painfully above the water. It’s not too hard to hide his erection since the boys’s attention is elsewhere at the moment.

Your hair is open, and he wants nothing more than to feel it in his hands, run his fingers though your scalp and pull so hard that your neck is snapped back, he wants to know what kind of noises you’ll make for him, would you sound shrill and high pitched or would you wail and bellow for him to let go?

They can hear the girls talking amongst themselves, the hole in the wall makes their voices more audible and clear.

“Quit playing coy, Jirou, we know you’ve got your eye on someone,” Hagakure’s body is nowhere to be found as usual, but her chipper voice rings out from the middle of the hot spring.

Jirou is a few feet away from where you sit, her body also being shown for everyone to see. Bakugo glances at Kaminari to confirm his suspicion, but gags and quickly looks away when he gets an eyeful of his friends’ erect cock.

Not that Bakugo himself has room to talk, though.

“I mean, not really, it’s not a big deal.” The ravenette shifts and hides her head from the rest of girls’ cooing.

“Uh huh, sure. You’re not fooling anyone Kiyoka, I’ve seen the way you look at Denki. You two can’t keep your eyes off each other, it’s cute,” you purr, and Bakugo holds himself back from shoving the other guys out of the way just so that he can hear your voice the best.

Squeals and sounds of splashing fill the air, and Sero and Kirishima whisper excitedly and clap their red-faced friend on the back. Denki can’t keep the 50K watt smile off his face, and even Bakugo grunts and knocks shoulders with him, letting him know that he was happy for the human charger.

But then Jirou claps back with her own snarky observation, and the boys fall hush at the new revelation.

“Alright, you wanna talk about ogling Y/N? Then tell me, how’s Deku doing?”

“Or Bakugo, too,” Mina adds slyly, and now all the girls’ attention, as well as the boys’, is on you.

Bakugo felt like he had whiplash. He would’ve been elated, on Cloud 9 even to hear that maybe you had something for him too, had shitty Deku’s name not have been thrown in there too.

And he looks around wildly for the green haired freak, the freckles dusted across the expanse of his face even more prominent from the deep blush quickly forming, his scarred hands holding the sides of his face shaking in awe and gleeful shock.

But the rest of the boys aren’t as oblivious to how Bakugo seethes at his rival’s joy, from the way the water gets hotter from his quirk sparking underneath the rippling waves. Kirishima scoots closer to his friend and gently lays a hand on his shoulder as if to say, calm down, man. Not right now.

And so the hothead leaves it for the time being, opting to hear your response.

“I-it’s really nothing, they’re both just good classmates like the rest of the guys,” and although your back is turned to them, it doesn’t take a genius to know that you’re embarrassed too, your leg skittishly bouncing in front of you is making your ass jiggle from the back, much to the delight of the salivating boys.

Bakugo wants to spill blood when he suddenly realizes your body is being shown for the rest of these dogs to see

The girls start teasing you, your splutters being drowned out by their playful accusations.

“Come on L/N, whose cuter?”

“Dont act all coy now, I know how nervous you get when you’re all close to Bakugo. I mean I don’t blame you, have you seen his muscles? He could crush someone’s head with those things!”

“Yeah, but have you seen the way she giggles when Deku starts his mumbling tangents? That’s a classic crush right there.”

Bakugo is getting desperate to hear your answer now, some of the boys have left, feeling like they had their full of excitement for the night. They saw some tits and ass, heard some gossip, end of story.

The only ones remaining were Bakugo and his gang, as well as IcyHot and Shitty Deku.

Shitty Deku, who seemed equally eager to hear your response.

It pissed him off that he wasn’t getting the message to fuck off, even after all the growling and death stares he was receiving from his childhood friend.

But he guesses after a lifetime of dealing with it, it doesn’t scare Deku as much as it does anymore.

Maybe he’ll have to amp it up, later

“W-well I mean both of them have their own respective...flaws and strengths I guess..sometimes Deku can be kinda hard to talk to ‘cuz he’s so shy, but Bakugo can be a real jerk at times, too.”

You trail off, and Bakugo scoffs to himself. Him? Flaws? Those two words didn’t go well in one sentence together, but nonetheless he continues to listen. He wouldn’t refute the notion of him being an asshole, he wasnt that delusional.

“And yeah, I mean Bakugo definitely intimidates me sometimes with how aggressive he can be, but Deku is definitely getting up there in terms of physical prowess. But in terms of who I like, I’d have to say-“

“Midoriya! Bakugo! What are you two doing over there?”

Iidas voice booms across the water, and all 6 of the boys jump back, startled at the intrusion.

“No, wait-“ Bakugo hisses, clawing his way towards the hole to hear the rest of what you had to say, but Sero and Todoroki shove him back and patch the hole up with fire and tape, shutting off your confession.

Deku waves his arms around wildly, stammering some excuse of dropping his towel in the spot where they all were sheepishly gathered. They eventually waded their way over to where Tokoyami had set the drinks down, but the blond was shaking with hot rage despite the cool refreshment that was shoved into his hand by a wary Kirishima.

“Don’t sweat it dude, it’s not like her and Midoriya are gonna da-“

“Finish that sentence and I’ll blast both your and his head off,” he glowers at the redhead, shorting a dark look to where an all-too-happy Deku was chatting with Todoroki, as if they hadn’t been drooling over their naked classmates merely a couple minutes ago.

Kirishima backs off with raised hands in surrender, leaving Katsuki to mull over the situation by himself.

You couldn’t seriously be interested in that green haired freak, right? I mean he could barely talk to a girl without tripping over his own damn tongue, for fucks sake.

Not that he was any better himself. He failed to acknowledge the times where you had merely asked him for an extra pencil, when he snapped at you for being such a fuckin’ dumbass that you couldn’t even remember to bring your own shit. He had done that out of pure impulse, but he regretted it the moment he saw your face fall, his heart clenching at the sight

He’d have to show you that he was the better option, regardless of if you wanted it or not.

And so when they had all gotten out of the water and gotten ready for food, Bakugo already knew what he had to do.

You were all eating outside in the camp pavilion, each at their own separate tables. He was sitting with the boys, all of them joking around and throwing food at each other while he was staring you down.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. How could you expect him to, after he had seen half of you bare already? It was sinful almost, the way you were completely in the dark about what he had seen and heard, while he himself was fantasizing about what you looked like and felt like on the front.

So when Deku came by your table, no doubt also having the same conversation of the springs in mind, wanting to get closer to you, Bakugo felt his sanity snap.

The fork he held in his hand started melting in his ignited hand, steam curling from his palm. He watched as the green-eyed fuck made successful shitty attempts to make you laugh, his eyes trained on where you gently laid a hand on his shoulder after something he said that made you throw your head back and howl with glee.

“Hey man, your fork-!” Kaminari yelped, pointing at the disfigured mess of metal in his friend’s steaming hand.

“Huh?” Bakugo was pulled out of his irate daze, and he quickly dropped the fork when he saw what he unconsciously did.

They all looked at him for an uneasy minute after noticing the expression on his face, no doubt understanding he was furious about being compared to Deku once again in front of you.

“Look, Bakugo, don’t really take what Y/N said to heart. We don’t know who she actually likes, and Midoriya’s just her friend...” but Sero trails off hesitantly after glancing in your direction, seeing Deku’s dreamy expression as your hand still continues to rest on his shoulder.

“Just let her come to you, yeah? You don’t wanna force anything on her, that’ll make her really uncomfortable-“

-“Shut the fuck up Shitty Hair, and mind your own damn business,” Bakugo interjects, abruptly unscrewing his drink and standing up, unable to lose you to some broccoli- headed bug-eyed fuck.

He stiffly walks across the pavilion to where you two sit, and feigns a swig from his bottle. Your focus is still on Deku, so you don’t notice him approach until he comes up behind you two and ‘trip’s, falling forward and strategically spilling the liquid all over Deku’s back and your front.

You squeal as your blouse is drenched, and Deku shoots up from his seat to grab some napkins while searching for the perpetrator.

“What the- Kacchan?”

“Oops.”

Bewildered, you look at the two while dabbing the wet splotches on your shirt, Mina and Tsu jumping into action to help you.

The boys exchange a weird look, and although Bakugo gave his version of an apology, he doesn’t look very sorry. In fact, if you saw it right he looked almost...smug? With a bit of anger?

Deku wasn’t any easier to understand either. His voice was lilted as usual while he grabbed napkins, but his gaze never left his childhood friends’ and his eyes weren’t exactly the big doe-eyes you had grown fond of.

They were darkened, and narrowed as they bored into Bakugo’s eyes. Neither one of them was looking away from each other, and there was a weird tension in the air that everyone could sense.

But you couldn’t focus on that right now, you had to go and wash up.

“I gotta change and maybe take a shower, I can feel it sticking to my skin,” you scrunch your nose in disgust and tell Mina as you stand to leave. Deku offers to walk you, but you wave him off kindly.

As you pass by Bakugo, you can feel his eyes rove up and down your body, very obviously staring at the way your white shirt clings to your chest from the liquid, sending chills up your spine.

But he doesn’t come after you, not yet.

It’s only after everyone has finished up from their dinner and headed off to bed almost 20 minutes later that the showers finally, finally warm up enough for you to dip a hesitant toe in.

Curse the old pipes.

*******

He watches you from the dark, the only light you’re provided with is the dim emergency light from the rusty bulb, the camp counselors having been shut the facility’s lights off merely a half hour ago. But you were stubborn in waiting for the water to warm up so you were left alone in the showers, shifting uncomfortably in your sticky wet clothes.

And then miraculously you get up for the umpteenth time to check the temperature of the water, and it’s finally deemed appropriate for you when you sigh in relief and start taking your shoes off.

He hides in the door partition, his cock hardening slowly as he thinks of you alone with just him and his mercy. You were going to pay for almost breaking his heart and prancing around with stupid fucking Deku instead.

But asides from his rage, he still liked you, a lot. He wanted you to want him as much as he wanted you, so he decided to try and attempt to make your first time with him as gentle and as special as he could in the dirty cabin showers.

Bakugo waits with bated breath for the right moment, and the second your hands grip the end of your shirt to pull it up, he slowly emerges from the dark.

“You know, I’m glad you came here alone, at night. It’s almost like you wanted this.”

You jump violently at the low voice coming from seemingly nowhere, and you wildly look around for the source until you see him...coming at you slow from the inky abyss of the room, like a predator stalking his prey.

His figure seems to loom even larger than he actually is, the shadows of his tall body bouncing off the walls and grazing over the top of your head. He seems to be in no rush, taking his time with his hands in his pockets, eyes flashing dangerously at you as he stalks forward until he’s backed you up against the deteriorating wall, chest to chest with you.

“W-what the hell, Bakugo,” you stammer nervously. “This is the girls room, you can’t be here-“

And the hand you raise to push him away is caught in his calloused ones, your other wrist is quickly seized as well and slammed above your head. You cry out in pain and try kicking out, but he wedges a bulky knee in between your thigh and shoves his face mere millimeters away from yours, a mean leer adorning his normally-attractive face.

“What, I can’t be here? And here I was thinking that you almost liked me. But oh, I forgot, Deku’s your favorite, right?” The grip on your wrist tigthens and his leg flexes from in between your thighs.

You squirm and sob, about to ask what the hell he was talking about-

Oh.

Oh no.

He sees the understanding pass over your face, and he laughs cruelly at the horror that comes with it.

“You heard me? How?”

“Not just heard. I saw you, too.”

He lets his eyes drop from your neck, to your chest, and then to the juncture between your legs which was being massaged by his knee.

Tears well up in your eyes as you realize he was watching you this entire evening in the springs. How he got away with it, you didn’t want to even know.

“I saw your hair open for the first time, and not in that stupid hairdo you always do for school.”

He trails his hand softly up the sides of your body and up your neck until he reaches his big hand into your scalp. You whimper and gasp as he laces his fingers through your locks, seeming to caress you but then harshly yanking your head back so you had no choice but to look at him head on.

“I saw your ass pressed up against the rocks, and I wished it was up against my cock instead.”

He removes his hand from your hair and snakes it down to your bottom, kneading and slapping it lightly. You writhe even harder now, too scared to make a noise in case he hurts you even worse, just wanting him to get the hell off of you.

“But I didn’t see the front of you. I imagined what you would look like with tears streaming down your face while I was stuffing you full of me”

He plays with the edge of your shirt, a dark look in his eye as he plays with you. You try to budge your hands but to now avail, only serving in annoying him and shoving his knee up further into your crotch. The pressure on your clit is immense, and your legs start shaking as you’re forced to be suspended almost midair on his knee.

“Take this off,” he says softly, the rasp catching in his voice.

“Bakugo, please. You don’t have to do this, I swear I won’t tell anyone-“

“You think I’m worried about if you’ll tell anyone? Hah! I already know you won’t, wanna know why?”

He leans in, inhaling the scent of your hair and grazing his nose along the side of your neck. You force yourself to breath in and out, feeling an impending heart attack.

“‘Cause if you do, I’ll make sure to fuck you in front of everyone, especially on Deku’s broken body.”

And then you can’t stop them, the tears fall from your body shaking in pure fear at his threat.

You knew he wouldn’t actually do something like that, but hearing it snarled in your ear so softly made you believe it all the same, the power he held while you were fucked, literally and metaphorically.

“Now I’m not gonna ask you again. Take this shit off before I burn it, bitch.”

You don’t want to piss him off further, so with trembling hands you lift the edge of your sticky uniform and start to pull it off, but he stops you with a frustrated grunt.

“Slowly. I wanna savor this while no ones here.”

You bite your lip and suppress a scream as you do what he says.

And oh, does he ever savor it. The shirt clings deliciously to your breasts, and he licks his lips as it ruffles up and over your head. Your skin is perspiring from the humid air, a sheen of sweat lightly decorating your collarbones. Bakugo can’t hold himself back any longer, and you yelp when he comes at you suddenly.

He lunges at your face and pins your arms down by your side again as his lips mesh against yours, his kiss filled with clacking teeth and a thrashing tongue against your lips. The knee you’re straddling is bouncing lightly up and down, jostling you on it and causing your cunt to pulsate with heat.

You let out a distressed moan, and he swallows it greedily, using the advantage of your open mouth to delve deeper into your wet cavern. You open bleary eyes and flinch when you find his already wide open, staring back into unforgiving vermillion orbs.

He pulls back slightly, panting. “I bet Deku didn’t get this kind of treatment, huh? It’s all for me right?”

You don’t know if he’s genuinely asking you or just being insane, so you don’t answer him. Fortunately and unfortunately for you, he doesn’t care for your response, rather more focusing on dragging you by your neck towards the hot showers.

You slip and stumble as he shoves you in a stall, gaining your balance only too late when he turns and locks the door.

“Look, I’m sorry okay? I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings, just forget you saw or heard anything at the springs, it was just girl talk, stupid stuff that didn’t mean anything-“

“-even if it didn’t mean anything to you I’ll make sure you believe what you’ll feel after I fuck you senseless.”

And with that, he tugs off his clothes and licks his lips at the sight of you cowering against the wall, naked and oh so vulnerable.

He slowly shifts towards you, pressing his body flush against your trembling one. You can feel the outline of his erection on your thigh, and you swallow at how big it is.

“I don’t wanna have to close your mouth or restrain you when I’m balls deep in that tight cunt. So don’t do anything stupid and this’ll be a whole lot easier for you.”

He reaches a hand down and lightly strokes your labia, relishing in how you whimper and jerk against him, but don’t dare try to stop his hand.

Smart girl

Another hand finds its way to your tits, tugging and pulling at your hardened nipples. You gasp and arch into his touch, slowly coming undone from his ministrations. He humps against your leg like a teenage kid, grunting while he does so.

His mouth is attacking yours once again, but now you’re too tired from the constant surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins to even move your head. You just let him play with your body, your heart, your soul.

“I think the princess is wet enough for me now,” he leers at you when he pulls his fingers away, scissoring his digits to show the strings of wetness he pulled from your pussy.

You squeal and grab onto his chiseled arms as he suddenly hikes his hands underneath your upper thighs and picks you up, forcing your legs to wrap around his middle for support.

He slams you against the wall, the water cascading down your head is making your hair stick to your face, and in a strange and sudden show of intimacy Bakugo softly moves your locks away from your eyes. Your gazes lock, yours desperate and tear filled while his scarlet hues show no signs of mercy, but rather a strange predatory hunger.

Your arms scrabble behind his head and on his shoulders for balance as he slowly sinks you down on his length. You hiss and throw your head back at the sensation of being filled, and he eats it up.

He watches the way your mouth opens, your eyes widen, as every sinful sound your body can make escapes you.

As if he needed more of an ego boost

You wail as the last inches are sucked into your dripping hole, and he lets out a mean breathy laugh.

“Fuck, you really were ready huh? I should’ve taken you weeks ago, little slut.”

Your brows furrow and you try to turn your face away but he snatches your chin in a hardened grip.

“Uh-uh, none of that shit. You were doing so well, don’t turn away from me now.”

He slowly starts to roll his hips minutely into yours, not exactly thrusting but enough movement to make your cunt flutter and throb.

“What do you want me to say? You got what you wanted!” You whisper to him, more tears falling down freely down your cheeks.

He can’t help himself, he groans and surges forward to lick the salty rivers up, gripping your ass tightly when you flinch.

“Tell me you love me. Tell me how much you want me, how much better I am than that green-haired bastard and I won’t shove it up your ass.”

You can feel his abdomen clench and shake from the effort he’s making not to completely batter your cervix so you give in quickly, afraid of what he’s like when his thin strands of self restraint snap.

“I...I love you Bakugo. I really want y-ooh!”

The last bit of your sentence is choked off as he lifts you up all the way to his tip and slams your hips down his length. You gasp and weave your hands through his hair for support, your legs violently shaking at the pain.

He grunts and starts really giving it to you, setting a fast pace as he bounces you on his cock. Your head is bobbing around, you’re fairly certain there’s drool coming down your lips but you can’t find it in you to care as he fucks you into oblivion.

After a couple of more painful thrusts he pushes you against the wall and removes your hands from his hair, holding them above your head against the wall. You’re trapped with your upper half plastered against the dingy tile while your lower half is wrapped his dick.

Your cunt swallowing him down is the only leverage you have, so your whole body weight presses down on his shaft. He moans loudly at the pressure on his tip, your gooey hot walls clamping around him from every angle and you yourself can’t help it when your eyes roll back at the sensation.

He rocks his hips up, and up you go as well, whining and clawing at the wall behind you, desperately grappling onto your sanity as well. Your tits bounce with each thrust, and his glinting eyes take perverse joy in their obscene movements.

Bakugo starts moving in earnst now, deeming the slow strokes enough prep for you. He batters your womb, reaching places not even your fingers could access, making you go cross eyed.

He sees this and snickers at your pathetic state.

“Fuck yeah you little whore. You’re gonna learn no one else can satisfy this slutty pussy like I can.”

You give him nothing but a choked gasp in response. You head moves like a bobblehead, you can’t even see clearly from the water cascading into your eyes. He’s just a towering blob of ashy blond hair and large muscles.

His hips start stuttering in their rhythm, drawing to a close from his contrasting pounding minutes earlier. Your nails rake over his forearms, holding on for dear life as he pants and groans into your ear like an animal. His dick spasms inside you for a second or two, and then Bakugo suddenly holds you tight against him, wet bodies pressed against each other as he cums.

He lets out a loud moan as you whine into his shoulder at the sensation of his hot seed filling you up. You’re held against his heaving chest for a moment of two, the both of you catching your breath until he slowly backs up and lets you slip to the ground.

It’s suddenly very quiet, the sound of the shower is drowned out by the ringing in your head. You’re shaking, shock overcoming your abused body as you refuse to look at him.

But he won’t have any of that. He steps forward, and you flinch yet again, scrambling backwards to put very necessary space between him and you.

“You got what you wanted. Please leave, I won’t say anything to anyone.” You breath out shakily.

He’s silent for a moment before you hear him chuckle. His low chuckles grow louder and more derisive, he’s booming with sinister laughter and you snap your head up in horror at him.

“You think this is done?”

He crouches to your level suddenly, elbows on his knees as he cocks his head at you, eyeing your naked body that he so recently claimed as his. His gaze travels down to where his cum seeps from between your legs, and you quickly cross your limbs over to prevent him from seeing the lewd sight.

“You’re mine now, Y/N. I already told you, you’re not gonna be talking to Deku, or any other guy apart from me. You think they’ll even want you when they find out how you loved being fucked in the dirty showers? Everyone’s gonna call you a slut, nothing else.”

“No, that’s not true you-“

He crawls to you, and it’s so mesmerizingly terrifying to see a man of his build crawl to you like some deranged humanoid that you shut up, words caught in your throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” He says softly. “You’re my bitch now, and you’ll do whatever the fuck I say, when I say it.”

Bakugo might’ve felt a little bad to see the girl he liked so scared of him all because of his doing, but the way you trembled and crossed your legs like the stupid, helpless little girl that you were erased every hesitancy from his mind.

He grabbed your cheeks and smushed them together, paying no mind to the pleas and whimpers you let out in retaliation.

Licking a long stripe up your neck, you shivered when he growled, “now clean up and be outside in 10 minutes, you’re sleeping in my bunk tonight. The guys are all asleep so we’ll just take an empty room in the cabin.”

He released you and stood back up, grabbing a towel for himself along the way. Drying his hair off, his back was turned to you as he started picking his clothes up too.

You just sat there in a daze, wondering what the hell just happened.

“Oh, and Y/N?” He was dressed, and he was at the door now.

“If you think about doing anything stupid or take longer than 10 minutes, I’ll come back in and get you personally. And I’ll make sure that we stay here for the rest of the night, just in case you like your little time alone that I’m giving you too much.”

#tw: noncon #bakugo smut #yandere bakugo katsuki #bakugo x you #bakugo mha #bakugo bnha #yandere bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha yandere #yandere Bakugo #bnha yandere #bnha smut #mha smut

[brainrot-buffet]

Hi! Just here to say I adore your Modern AU with all my heart cause the crew was just taken away from us way too soon </3 I also saw your Claggor x reader work and wondered if you would write a Mylo x reader one too? Preferably in the Modern AU and you can decide if it’s already dating or getting together <3

Oh man. You guys don't know how many Mylo x Reader ideas I have just sitting in my drafts. I make them when I cry about the huge lack of content for him, not to mention how much slander this guy gets. Therefore, this post sounds more like a long scenario told in headcanon form in order to feed every Mylo stan for a while, I mean this is Brainrot Buffet for a reason ;-;

Notes: Fluff, mild mention of Cupcakke

---

Mylo x GN!Reader Headcanons (Modern AU)

Mylo needs someone patient and forgiving, someone willing to be open-minded whenever he says something not everyone's ready to hear, and takes time to understand why he is the way he is

People weren't so kind to him as a kid; He learned at a young age that the world doesn't give a fuck about you, so it's best not to give a fuck in return and flip it off (this is why middle fingers are his favorite symbol)

He shields himself by becoming a sarcastic loudmouth with an egotistic exterior — AKA a person who doesn't have a lot of friends outside his own siblings

In short, it's gonna take some time for Mylo to truly warm up to you

You befriended him after the two of you got paired up for a group project; Spending a while on it together made him realize that you two get along well, so he decided to continue annoying talking to you afterwards

He'd have an easier time opening up talking to someone just as opinionated and snarky as he is; Bonus points if you're non-judgemental, don't take his words too seriously, and know when to tell him to shut up

Ngl, he was expecting you to stop talking to him when he says something in front of you that's considered "controversial" by social standards (that's actually a good word to describe him: controversial but correct)

One day, he whispered to you that a pretentious classmate's violin playing was shit despite the entire class excessively praising them for their "talent"

Mylo realized what he said too late and immediately froze, mentally cursing himself for potentially losing ANOTHER new friend

Then, he heard you snort, and GIGGLE

You whisper back trying to suppress your wide grin, "I thought I was the only one thinking that!"

That day marks the start of Mylo gradually allowing himself to let his walls down for you

---

Once he gets comfortable as friends, Mylo doesn't hesitate to tease you every chance he gets; You'll often have friendly banter and jokingly roast each other (He's going easy on you though, he's not as unhinged as he is with Powder)

You both learned how to skateboard together, buy bagels and soda from local delis after school, sneak onto the school's rooftop to draw vulgar imagery and Mylo's face on the walls, have karaoke nights on his laptop in his room, etc.

Constantly sends you Snaps and DMs you on Discord/Insta, spamming you with weird memes or TikToks he thinks you'll like; Added you to the Vander Crew Discord server where he makes you join voice chats with him, both of you staying up late to talk about anything and everything

During class work hours, lunch periods, subway rides to and from school, or when you're doing homework together, he shares his airpods with you so you can both listen to stuff on Spotify

He puts on Cupcakke at max volume just to try getting you to laugh in the middle of class; "D**pth***t" starts playing on his airpods and he just grins at you while wiggling his eyebrows

He keeps tons of pictures of both of you on his phone; Sometimes he'll find himself looking at your pics for a few seconds too long, causing him to get flustered and immediately put his phone away

He'll always bug you to hang out with him and his siblings + Ekko; Gets jealous the moment you start talking with Powder a lot (cuz who wouldn't wanna be friends with her???); Becomes super petty and argues with a CHILD in front of you

Will ABSOLUTELY throw hands if anyone tries to pick on you, and uses his gift of verbal savagery to make people cry if he has to; If you scold him for it, he'd be all, "What??? They had it coming!"

In return, whenever people try to "cancel" Mylo, you're always there to defend him and defuse situations which often means grabbing his ear and dragging him away; His honesty is something you love about him, but sometimes he just doesn't think before he speaks (which causes him to be HUGELY misunderstood by a lot of people)

---

He's probably already liked you for a long time, but it takes a while for him to realize he's caught feelings and would need someone to directly point it out to him

And that someone was Ekko

Mylo was making obnoxious kissy-faces behind Ekko as he was talking to Powder, and once she left Mylo called him a simp

Ekko: Well look who's talking, I'm not the one making googly eyes at Y/N all the time 🤨🤨🤨

Vi and Claggor back up Ekko, saying they've always been sus at how Mylo's much softer and friendlier to you in comparison to his "badass" persona

Mylo tries so hard to deny it despite his cheeks and ears burning bright red

Claggor comments, "Denial is the first step towards acceptance, Mylo"

After a day of mulling over it, he begrudgingly accepts his fate as a simp

---

The process of the two of you getting together can be described with two words: Slow. Burn.

Mylo's really curious to know if you think of him the same way, but is aware that coming on too strong might cost him his friendship with you

And again, he's never been in a relationship before, so he knows he's gonna fuck up by rushing and going into this blind

His behavior towards you doesn't really change after realizing his feelings, except for the fact that he flirts with you more often

The way you can tell Mylo is flirting is by observing what he does; His actions speak much louder than his words (which are also loud but you get the point)

For example, you'll be the only person he'll share his food with; He steals stuff from the cafeteria cuz the school lunches barely give kids enough to eat, and does his best to get two things instead of one if he can

Like he'll tap your shoulder and wordlessly take your hand to place a small muffin on your palm, expectantly waiting for you to eat it ;-;

Doesn't know how to comfort you emotionally, but will listen to you rant and take you out to do something with him to get your mind off it, or lifts your chin with his finger so you can watch him wiggle his brows while making funny faces at you

Becomes more touchy-feely with you: Grips your hand whenever you're walking down busy sidewalks, does that thing where he yawns and drapes his arm around you, lets his knee touch yours when sitting next to you, etc.

Develops a habit of resting his forehead on your shoulder, especially when he's exhausted; Also allows you to sleep on his own whenever you're riding the subway or a bus

His love languages are physical touch (giving) and words of affirmation (receiving)

All this guy needs is a genuine compliment or words of encouragement; Feels his stomach turn into mush when you tell him you think he's cute for the first time

It's cuz people always slandered him for his appearance: They call him Vegeta hair, shit for brows, paintbrush, Mylo admits they're pretty creative

Hearing you say he's actually not as ugly as people think reroutes his brain and boosts his confidence (and unfortunately ego) so much

---

It becomes a little obvious to others that you've developed feelings for each other, but are too scared of being rejected; You both end up pining over one another for a long time (months, years, your choice)

The breaking point occurs one day when you were having karaoke night in Vander's family car

You're both taking a breather and laughing after having finished energetically jamming out to a song when Labrinth's "I've Never Felt So Alone" starts playing on Mylo's phone

He notices what song this is and quickly sits up to change it; He secretly listens to sappy music but has an image to uphold (Fun Fact: He listens to this song specifically because it makes him think of you)

You stop him before he can reach his phone

You: I didn't know you listened to Labrinth.

Mylo: And you were NOT supposed to know, so lemme just—

You: What? No way I love this song! And it's the extended version?? Niiiccceeee

Mylo: Shut up... Thesongwastooshortok?

You chuckle as his response, and silence falls between the two of you as the bass fills the car

You're staring out the window at the colored lights and bustling people inside Vander's bar, ignorant of how Mylo's leaning against the steering wheel, blissfully admiring your face under the streetlight

You look back at him, noticing he's staring at you, yet he doesn't break eye contact

You then ask him if he's alright and if there's a problem with your face

Mylo doesn't respond, a beat passes before he slowly turns his body to you, biting his lip thinking that what he's about to do is STUPID, but this shit has gone on for too damn long and he needs to know now or never

He leans in close, just stopping inches away from your face; Despite the dim lighting from outside, you can see his pupils quickly flicker from your mouth and back up to your own

Mylo: The problem with your face is that my lips aren't on yours.

You are shocked; Pickup lines are a form of humor between the two of you but he was never this bold or looked this serious; In your mind you're like "DAAAYYUUUMMM okay, okay... I can dig this"

So you gently tug on the collar of his hoodie to pull him closer, feeling his quickened breathing against your cheeks as his ears become redder with each second

You: So... are you gonna fix said problem or nah?

Upon hearing you say that, Mylo gets the cutest, wide-eyed look on his face as his mouth hangs agape a little

And that's how you two end up awkwardly yet passionately making out in the car; He apologizes for his nose hitting your eye but you assure him it's alright, pulling him in to kiss him again

That's until Vi and Powder come out Vander's bar to tell you both to get back inside

Powder innocently mistakes the sounds of you groaning in pain after Mylo bit your lip too hard as both of you having a fight

Powder: VANDEEERRRRR!!!! MYLO'S HURTING Y/N!!!!!!!

Mylo: NO IT'S— IT'S NOT WHAT YOU THINK!

Vander: Mylo...

Mylo: POWDER YOU LITTLE SH—

#mylo x reader #mylo arcane #arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane headcanons #league of legends

[saintshigaraki]

the sun has not yet fallen

pairing: bakugou katsuki x gn!reader

word count: 2.2k 

excerpt: You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe.

a/n: me: i hate angst

       also me: writes this fic

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sometimes love requires work 

in case you want to read it on ao3!

Katsuki is in a bad mood. He was uncharacteristically quiet when he walked through the door which is more often than not a sign he was trying his damndest to hold back saying something just a bit too cruel. And you appreciate the effort, truly you do. 

On any other day, you would’ve let him be to work through his shit alone. He usually does that by cooking up something far too elaborate for a weekday night, and then after decompressing for a bit, he tends to slink back into whichever room you’re in and lay his head on your lap so you can work your fingers through his hair. 

You’ve found over the last two years that that is what tends to work best. Giving him space and letting him come to you.  

But today you’re feeling just as raw as he does. You can’t remember the last time you spent quality time together. You can’t remember the last time he didn’t go to bed so exhausted he was out before his head hit the pillow. You can’t remember the last time you didn’t feel this heavy cloud hanging over your head. You can’t remember a moment where there wasn't a timer counting down and down and down while you do nothing but wait for it to hit zero. You’re not quite sure what will happen when your time is up.

It’s selfish, probably, to want to be with him right now when you know he’s so weary, but you won’t even bother him, is what you tell yourself. You just want to be around him for an hour (or two) you want to stand so close to him you can smell the ever clinging scent of caramel and help him with dinner and think of brighter days. Better days. 

(You want things to go back to the way they were before. You want to cling to him, just for a short while, stuff your face into the crook of his neck while he tells you everything’s okay. That you guys are okay.

But that’s for another day. It has to be.

How many times have you told yourself that?)

You follow him as he stomps towards the kitchen. 

He aggressively grabs the ingredients for whatever he’s making and slams them on the counter, grumbling under his breath the whole time. You stand in the doorway worrying your hands, feeling awkward, and hating that you feel awkward in your own kitchen with your own boyfriend. 

It makes that awful nagging voice in your head grow just a bit louder. 

You approach him slowly while he sets up a pot filled with water and turns on the stove. He’s still grumbling to himself by the time you place your hand softly on his forearm. 

He jerks away immediately and narrows his eyes. You viciously stamp down exactly how awful that makes you feel. How small and unloved. 

“What do you want?” he says bluntly (and a little cruelly but a part of you says just ignore it, maybe if you close your eyes and cover your ears you can pretend that everything is fine, that you guys are fine) . 

That was part of his charm when you two first started dating. You loved that he was blunt, that he got to the point, there was really no guessing what Katsuki was thinking because he’d simply tell you and if it were any other day perhaps his words wouldn’t have bothered you as much as they did now. 

And it’s partly your fault, or maybe even mostly. Because you let it get this bad. You could have told him something was bothering you, that lately, you’ve been feeling a little insecure in this relationship. Katsuki was blunt but very rarely if ever cruel with you or your feelings. He would’ve understood, probably. 

But anytime you thought about broaching the subject with him, he always looked so, so tired. Bone tired. And you thought maybe it was selfish, to want him to comfort you over something this dumb. Over something as frivolous as this. He just needs time. 

(How much time, you wonder. How much more can you take? you ask yourself.)

“Are you fucking braindead or something,” he snaps, dragging you out of your spiraling. 

“I was just wondering if I could help. It’d be nice to cook dinner together.” We use to do it all the time, you almost say. Now you can’t even remember the last time you did. 

“You’re a shit cook,” he says. 

It’s true, and on another day, a brighter day maybe, you would’ve laughed. Or at least smiled. Because it was true. You are an awful cook, a shit one, as he so eloquently put it, especially compared to him. But that never mattered to Katsuki before. 

He always let you cook with him, always wanted you to cook with him, even if the majority of the time you ended up sitting on the counter swinging your legs and watching him do all the work. 

To be fair, afterward, you always cleaned the dishes. It was a lovely, simplistic give and take, one you wish you had again so, so dearly. 

“Yeah, I am,” you agree. You try to smile, but it feels forced. You’re tired, you realize, bone tired. 

You don’t say anything else and he turns away. You know that’s technically a dismissal but you elect to ignore and start unwrapping the vegetables. 

Just as you reach for a knife he grabs your wrist. 

“What the fuck is up with you right now?” he grounds out. 

“I just want to spend some time with you.” 

Your voice sounds frail, even to your own ears. 

And before he even opens his mouth you know what he’s about to say is going to bring all this to a head. And from the look on his face and the awful, gnawing in your gut, you know you’re not going to like it. You know that more likely than not, it’s going to break your heart. 

(A part of you can’t help but wonder if maybe your heart has already been broken. That it’s made up of haphazardly glued together pieces. Perhaps that’s why you feel so fragile. Perhaps the damage is done and you’ve just been waiting for Katsu to bring down the axe. To scatter the pieces. To finish the fucking job.)

“God,” he spits out. And it’s like a dam has been broken and every hateful thing he’s ever thought about you can’t help but come pouring out.  

“You’re so fucking needy, you can’t do a fucking thing by yourself. It’s like all you ever do is breathe down my fucking neck and tell me everything I’m not doing for you.” Distantly, you wonder if that’s true. It might be. Maybe it’s that ugly selfishness you’ve never really been able to hide. You thought you’d done a better job of tucking it away. You were wrong, it seems. 

“So I can’t spend every single fucking second of every single day with you, sue me. I’ve got my own shit to deal with, my own problems, or have you forgotten that I have a life outside of you?”

No, you think. I haven’t. Or maybe you have. You’re not really focusing so hard on his words. You tune them out as much as you can. You’re staring at his face, taking in all the details. The deep red of his eyes, the pale blond of his hair, the sharpness of his cheekbones, the slope of his neck, the little scars peppering his face. You used to sit on his lap and kiss each and every one, no matter how faint. 

You’re so weird, he’d say as you did it, but the tightness of his arms around you always spoke a different story. 

You’re going to miss that, you think. Holding him. Loving him. 

It takes you a while to realize he’s still yelling. It’s all hateful and cruel and so sharp. Like he’s taken a knife to your skin to flay you open, exposing every crack, every vein, every shattered piece of heart that makes you. You let it wash over you, like a particularly violent ocean wave.  

“Sometimes,” he says, his voice finally quieting to a bearable level, “I wonder why I’m still with you.” 

The breath you let out is shaky. No matter how ready you thought you were, there’s simply no amount of time that prepares you to hear those words from him. From the person you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. From the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. 

The silence between you two is deafening. And heavy. So heavy it feels as though your chest will cave in from the pressure. 

“Yeah,” you say at last, though you have to force the words around the burning iron poker in your throat. And then you laugh, you can’t help it. It’s all so fucked. You hate that it’s come to this bitter monstrous ugliness. 

When had this all started to fester, to rot? you wonder. Is this really all that’s left?

“I can’t help but wonder the same thing.” It comes out more bitter than you'd like. A small jab to try to even out the gaping wound he’s torn open in you. 

But it’s also true. 

You can’t see his reaction through the tears clouding your vision. You don’t really want to anyway. What’s done is done. What’s said is said. 

You grab your phone and keys and walk through the front door, closing it softly behind you. 

He doesn’t say a word.

You think if there was any part of your heart left unbroken, his silence has shattered it to oblivion. 

+

You walk for an hour or two. Until the sun has dipped almost completely below the horizon and it’s surrounded by hazy blood-red waves. 

It’s a good place to think. To set your jumbled thoughts in order. 

It takes a special kind of selflessness to love a hero, you realize. A type you don’t possess, not even nearly. You’ve always been just a little selfish when it came to love. But there’s no room for that when with people like Bakugou Katsuki. 

And that’s okay, you tell yourself. 

It’s a lie. It’s not okay. And the hollow aching in your chest that beats in time with your heart agrees. 

You look down at your phone. 

33 missed calls from Katsu 

You look back towards the setting sun just once. You don’t really know why. Perhaps to find some bravery in the beauty of it, to steal yourself a few extra seconds of this limbo you’ve found yourself in. Where everything is hazy and beautiful and hurts so bad you can hardly breathe. 

It’s not long before you’re biting the inside of your cheek, turning on your heels, and heading home. 

+

You don’t even have your keys fully out of your pocket before the door swings open, with Katuski on the other side looking a bit worse for wear, though you doubt you’re one to talk. 

His eyes are bloodshot and his nose is a bit pink. He’s been crying. You can’t remember the last time you saw him cry. 

(That’s a lie, you realize. You had gotten in the crosshairs of a particularly brutal villain versus hero showdown. The resulting injuries you suffered were severe. You’d apparently been a bit touch and go for a while. When you opened your eyes for the first time after everything, Katsu was right there, looking like hadn’t slept, showered, or eaten for days. Later you found out it’s because he hadn’t left your bedside since you returned from surgery. 

Katsu, you’d croaked out weakly, stretching out a shaking hand toward his face. 

He broke down into sobs so violent they wracked his whole body. It took him over an hour to calm down.)

You got about half a foot through the door before he threw himself at you. Wrapping his arms around you so tight it bordered on painful. He sinks down to the floor. You sink with him. 

He’s sobbing into your shoulder repeating a mantra of, I’m so sorry and I didn’t mean it. Please, please. I didn’t mean it. 

You think about that old saying. What a person says in anger is how they really feel. You don’t necessarily believe that. You yourself have said things out of anger that you in no way meant, that were purely thrown to hurt the person on the other end. 

You want to believe he didn’t mean it, more than anything you do. Because you love him. Because you really do think that Katsu is it for you. That he’s always been it for you. 

You pull away about as far as he’ll let you. 

“Do you love me, Katsuki?” 

The words hang in the air. You feel raw. Like you’re the one who has taken a knife to your own skin and flayed it all open for him. 

You don’t quite know vulnerability until you ask someone if they love you. It’s a different sort of weakness. 

“Yes,” he responds. His voice rough from his tears. “More than anything.”

You watch one last tear fall from his eye.

You hold his face in your hands and wipe it away. Softly. Gently. Lovingly. 

+

You guys are not okay and now that you’ve accepted that you think there’s a chance that one day, you will be. 

#bakugou x reader #bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki x reader #vicwritesbnha #bnha imagine #mha imagine #i’m thinking a shinsou hitoshi fluff drabble next 👀 #vicwrites