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tojisbbg · 1 year

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❈ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸 𝗺𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗮𝗴𝗮𝗶𝗻 ❈

❝one day i will stop falling in love with you, some day, someone will like me like i like you.❞

♡ manjiro sano ♡

pt.1, pt. 2

a/n: highly requested for pt. 2!! you ask and i shall deliver 😌

content: mikey x reader (y/n), very heavy angst, right person wrong time, you’re mikey’s childhood friend, he’s getting married (lolz), not grammatically checked/edited

...

it was currently seven in the evening, the newlyweds bid the last couple of guests goodbye. throughout the whole event, mikey tried his very best to plaster on the most convincing smile he possibly could to mask the chaos going on inside him.

there was never a second where you’ve left his mind, ghosting through every lane in his brain as he couldn’t focus on anything but you. he felt guilty, knowing that perhaps his marriage wasn’t going to last as long as he had hoped for.

“better invite us to the housewarming party, sano. your wife’s cookies are no joke.” pah nudged mikey, a small laugh leaving his chapped lips as he faintly nodded his head. mikey watched pah walking towards the door before suddenly stopping, watching as his friend bent down to fix the bottom of his wife’s dress. the hopeless boy couldn’t help but watch, observing the affection and love reciprocating between pah and his wife, before they both left together.

in the back of his mind, the memory of you zipping up his jacket properly during the cold winter season, lending him your scarf and making sure that he was all warm and snuggled up was fresh in his mind. you always made sure that he never got sick and when he did, you would ditch everything in your agenda to make it your business to nurse him back to health.

no one has ever cared for him like you have and mikey knew what he had to do.

“honey?” the voice of his wife awakened him from his train of thoughts, turning his head to the side as he was met with a warm smile. god, he felt so guilty for what he has done and was about to do.

“yeah?” he responded, waiting for her to ask.

“i was thinking that the two of us could have a small movie night when we get home.” she suggested, eyes twinkling with hope as mikey gulped harshly.

home.

they bought a house together and planned to live there forever until time was up. but, he always wished that it was you instead. mikey couldn’t bare to look her in the eye, clearing his throat as he tried to think of an excuse.

“it’s been a long day, you must be tired. i’ll drop you home and go over to ken-chin’s place since he suddenly left and isn’t answering my calls. get some rest, okay?” he lied straight through his lips, and his poor wife was too naive and quickly sympathized with it.

“of course, i hope him and y/n are okay. let me know what happens, hm?” suddenly, she wrapped her arms around him, making him freeze.

it felt so wrong, like he was being suffocated. mikey didn’t like this one bit at all, it felt too new and unpleasant. he’s been with ___ for a couple years by now and these things were never an issue. yet, after your sudden confession, the regret of not coming clean to his feelings years back ate him alive.

“hm, let’s go.” mikey gave her a smile, placing a hand on her back as he led her out of the church.

the drive to his house was not very long, giving him enough time to quickly slip out of the annoying suit as he slipped on a pair of jeans and a flannel. he saw his wife sitting on the couch, a small bag of chips in her hands as she munched on the salty snack while watching a rom-com movie. she noticed him and gave him a wave, making mikey want to rip his hair out as he just wanted to tell her the truth.

but, he wasn’t ready yet.

he walked over to her and place a faint kiss on her forehead before looking down at her.

“i’ll be back soon.” mikey assured, making her nod as she watched his figure walk out of the front door.

the ride to the brothel was about thirty minutes, making mikey curse on why he bought a place that had to be so far. the urgency to see you grew stronger and stronger with every light and block he passed. mikey quickly parked his car after arriving in front of the brothel before rushing out to go up to the floor where you and draken lived on.

the elevator dinged and he stepped off, now standing in front of your door. his breathing became irregular, anxiety swallowing him up whole. all the possibilities of you hating him and banishing him away from your life scared him to death. a shaky fist came up to the wooden door, knocking twice.

the door opened, revealing his tall best friend, staring down at him with a death stare that made chills run down his spine.

“ke-”

“what do you want?” draken brashly cut him off, making mikey’s lips agape as this sudden behavior from his right-hand man was completely unexpected. surely he knows that you might’ve ranted to draken about whatever happened between you two, but usually draken doesn’t like to get involved in neither your or mikey’s personal life.

“i just came to see y/n and talk with her, five minutes is all i’m asking for.” mikey chewed on his lower lip, eyes sternly on his shoes as he couldn’t bare to see his friend look at him with such hate-filled eyes. draken bitterly laughed, making mikey wince in pain as he knew that this was going to be bad.

“oh, so now you wanna see her, huh? you disappeared for nine fucking years, sano. nine damn years! you didn’t care about my little sister at all, whether she was alive or dead. did she tell you that she fell sick from not eating because she was looking for you? how she couldn’t sleep a single night in peace ‘cause she thought you were dead? of course not, you were too busy being blind and fucking some other bitch.” draken yelled through gritted teeth, making mikey look up at him with anger.

“mind your fucking words, don’t call ___ a bitch.” the shorter spat out, tension growing between the both.

“how rude of me, i forgot that you were a gentleman. well then, goodnight.” draken scoffed, attempting to close the door before a foot lodged into the remaining space.

“please, all i’m asking for is five minutes.” mikey begged, tears welling in his eyes.

“you had nine years to talk to her, but you didn’t. there is no five minutes, mikey.” the taller spoke, voice know cracking as mikey’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“w-what do you mean? where’s y/n? don’t just stay quiet, answer me!” he grabbed onto draken’s arms, only to have it harshly ripped away from his grasp.

“she’s dead! y/n is dead, my sister is gone.” the tears that draken has been holding on since mikey has arrived came flooding down, as he glared at his best friend with bitterness.

the words kept on repeating inside of mikey’s mind, taunting him as it felt like time has stopped. for some reason, it felt as if his body turned into stone, he couldn’t move. suddenly, a wave of rage began to build up, making him grit his teeth before balling his fists. anger clouded his sight as all he saw was red, eyes darkening.

“you piece of shit!” mikey bellowed, lunging towards draken before landing a hard punch on his jaw. remi screamed in horror, panicking as she saw both men breaking out into a violent fight.

“you knew about her tumor! you fucking knew and you didn’t tell me?! what kind of a fucking friend are you, traitorous jackass!” mikey continued to throw endless amounts of punches on draken’s face, receiving some back as well, but no matter how hard draken hit, he felt numb.

“stop!” remi yelled, before throwing her shoe at mikey’s head, making him wince at the stinging pain the heel left. draken was on the ground, breathing heavily as he shoved the smaller figure on top of him to the side.

“do you think that beating each other to death will bring y/n back? do you think she’ll be happy? huh?!” the girl sobbed, landing a hard slap on each of their cheeks as both draken and mikey looked down at the floor in shame.

“her death was inevitable, that tumor was a ticking bomb. she’s finally free from those painful chemo sessions, headaches, vomiting and seizure episodes. she won’t suffer anymore.” remi sadly smiled, body trembling as draken pulled her into his chest.

“i deserved to know, she was my other half.” mikey lowly spoke, tears pooling in his eyes, blurring his vision.

“you didn’t deserve shit, sano. all y/n has ever done is love you with all her heart. you were her world, everything revolved around you. yet, you failed to notice that. what did you do instead? you fucking disappeared without a word. oh and even better, you found some chick too. you never cared about my baby sister, you didn’t! so stop acting like the victim here.” draken sneered, meeting mikey’s teary eyes as he grew quiet.

“i was trying to protect her, i was afraid that my presence in her life would do more harm than good. i was scared that one day something bad would’ve happened to her because it involved something to do with me. i couldn’t risk it, that why i even disbanded toman.” mikey explained, breaking out into a painful cry as his heart bled.

“did you even love her?” draken questioned, watching the man in front of him choke on tears.

“god, i loved her to the moon and back! she was all that i could think of every second that i breathed. if i knew sooner, then i would’ve never left. i would’ve never been a coward, i’d stay by her side to protect her. i could’ve had more time!” mikey yelled in agony, making draken grab a hold of him.

“it would’ve never been enough! y/n didn’t tell you because she knew that it would’ve destroyed you.” draken hugged him, patting his back as remi joined them both as well.

after a few minutes, draken decided to take remi outside for a small walk, feeling like they needed some fresh air. this gave mikey some time to go see you. he hesitated for a bit, not being able to face you even though you were long gone. but, he eventually mustered up the courage and opened your door.

there, you laid on the bed like a pretty flower, your skin pale as snow due to the life in you being drained out.

“i know you told me that you didn’t wanna see me again, but i missed you. i don’t wanna let you go, y/n. i can’t live without my other half, i love you so much.” he cried, stroking your cold face as his tears fell on your cheek.

if only he knew, he would’ve cherished you longer.

---

mikey walked inside his house, eyes swollen from crying in the car, nearly getting into an accident twice from his blurred vision.

he saw his wife with a teary face, her friend my her side rubbing her back. the both of them noticed his appearence, and instead of a look of relief, the both of them looked angry.

mikey stood in his place, watching his wife rise from her spot and walking towards him before landing a harsh slap on his face.

“you fucking cheater! you don’t love me, i was your escape route. you love y/n, don’t you?” she asked, voice becoming shaky as she looked at mikey through glossy eyes.

mikey remained quiet, and there she got her answer.

“i knew it, i knew it! yet i still had some trust and hope within you that my guts were wrong. that maybe those little gestures you both gave each other was nothing but platonic. i was wrong, you and that two-faced bitch lied to me!” she screamed in agony.

“watch you mouth! you don’t get to call her that, you heard me? everything that she has ever done for anyone was nothing but a selfless act. you don’t know her.” mikey said through gritted teeth, making his wife scoff.

“yeah? well, you can now go back to her and continue to kiss her mighty ass ‘cause i want a divorce.” she sternly said, crossing her arms over her chest before walking to the door with her friend.

“i’ll get you the papers by next week.” mikey bluntly said, not even trying to fight or defend himself. he was tired and he didn’t want to live in an unhappy marriage for the rest of his life knowing that his heart belonged to you and only you.

“why? i wish to cut my ties with you as soon as possible.” she said with disgust laced in her tone.

“because i have to attend y/n’s funeral.” mikey deadpanned, making his wife’s mouth gape open.

“huh, guess karma is real. that’s what you get, sano.” his wife’s best friend taunted, making his now ex-wife giggle.

“i’ll come tomorrow to get my stuff. i can’t stand to stay here for another minute. also, i hope that two-faced bitch burns in hell.” she cockily said before heading out the door, slamming it shut.

---

it’s been about a month since you’ve died and mikey hasn’t visited your grave yet. he was there for your funeral, seeing how draken never requested the morgue people to not take off the promise ring you both have on your pinky finger. but, he didn’t stay for the burial.

mikey sat on the bench by the river, sighing as he fished out the pack of cigarettes he bought earlier. he opened the lid, plucking one of them out before placing it on his lips. as he brought his lighter closer to the end of the cigarette, your voice echoed in his mind.

“see, much better than cigarettes. but i was being serious, mikey, i don’t wanna see those near your lips or reach ever again. swear on my life?”

he took it out, placing it back in the package. mikey stood up, walking towards the garbage can before throwing out the pack of cigarettes.

mikey decided that it was time to see you.

he reached your grave as you were buried in the nearest cemetary, easy for your sibling to visit you on the weekends. mikey sat in front of your tombstone, placing the cup of chocolate pudding on the ground.

“felt like you wanted some.” he smiled, opening up his own as he took a scoop of the sweet treat in his mouth.

“how did i do it, y/n? how did i live all those years without you? now that you’re gone, i feel suffocated. it feels like i’m falling in this bottomless pit with no one to save me.” mikey’s voice broke, tears stinging his vision as he bit his lips to conceal a choked out cry that itched to leave his throat.

“you just have to find happiness again, mikey.” a soft voice spoke from behind him, the familiarity of the tone set chills all over his body. he turned around, eyes widening in shock as he couldn’t believe it.

“y/n?” he called out, but it was barely a whisper. mikey knew that you were dead, and that perhaps he was going insane, but he didn’t care.

you smiled at him, taking a seat in front of him as you grabbed the chocolate pudding he brought for you.

“are you real?” mikey finally mustered up the courage to ask, making you chuckle as you grabbed his hand. your flesh was cold, making him intertwine his fingers with yours in an attempt to give you some of his warmth.

“it’s time to let me go, mikey. you have to live, travel, start a family and just be happy; without me.” your eyes held so much sadness and depth, it no longer twinkled with hope like before, making his heart ache.

“i can’t. i need you by my side, y/n. please, come back.” he begged, shaky hands coming up to cup your face. tears began to stream down his face as he softly cried, making you sigh as you pulled him in a hug.

“do you remember our first meeting?” you asked, gently stroking his hair as he nodded.

“i told you, there’s too much love in this world to be consumed by regret or grief. i’m not saying that you shouldn’t grieve, but you have to pick yourself up and continue with the rest of your life eventually. that’s what i want, mikey.” you spoke, making him look at you with glossy eyes.

“if only i knew sooner, i would’ve done things so much more differently.” mikey sniffled, making you shake your head in disagreement.

“that’s why i didn’t tell you. my condition would’ve consumed you and i didn’t want that. i didn’t die in vain, i died knowing that i had a loving family and person who loved me for who i am. i’m happy, mikey and it’s time that you find that happiness too.” you assured, kissing his forehead as small drops of rain began to fall.

“i envisioned a happy life with you, with one or maybe two little kids running around our house. ken-chin and remi visiting us on christmas, road trips and so much more. i’ll wanted to marry you, y/n! you’re the only girl that i have ever loved, the one my heart belongs to.” mikey broke down, trembling as the rain drenched him. you couldn’t help but let a few of your own tears fall, watching the man that you love crumble to pieces.

“then marry me, sano.” you looked at him with adoring eyes, making him shoot you a confused look. you took off the promise ring on your pinkie before handing it to him. he took off his as he placed it in your palms, eyes never leaving yours.

he slid on the ring on your ring finger as you did the same to him. mikey gave you a soft smile before caressing your cheek.

“god, i love you so much.” mikey mumbled under his breath, leaning in for a kiss. you accepted it, and for some reason, your lips felt warm and soft.

“i love you too, which is why i need you to live for me. i’ll always be here with you mikey, somewhere safe and sound.” you placed a hand over his heart, making him cry harder as he nodded.

“okay. i’ll try, for you.” he offered you a broken smile, kissing your hands as you hummed.

“goodbye, mikey.” you said, and it made his heart drop.

“wait! don’t leave just yet! ple-”

but it was too late because now it was just him who sat alone by your grave. mikey saw that the pudding he got for you was gone, making him believe that the vision or ghost of you was in fact real.

you came back to him, even if it was for a moment.

mikey knew that he had to give his life a chance, a chance that you never got. which is why he promised to live to the fullest for you.

---

big flashing lights nearly blinded the famous race car driver as he cleared his throat, waiting for the interviewer to bombard him with questions.

“mr. sano! what a pleasure to have you here, thank you for joining us today.” the woman politely said, making mikey give her a small smile.

“the pleasure’s all mine, thank you for having me.” mikey smoothly replied, making the crowd swoon. for a man that was pushing his mid-thirties, mikey looked amazing, without a doubt. his voice was crisp and honey-like, making it hard for people to resist him.

not to mention the generous heart he has.

the interview was pretty long, consisting of questions that made mikey talk about his childhood, goals and inspirations. until the burning question hit him like a truck.

“mr. sano, you’ve got quite a fanbase.” the interviewer started off, being cut off by the loud squeals of mikey’s fangirls, making him chuckle.

“we all want to know, are you single?” the question pondered in his head, but mikey knew the answer and didn’t hesitate.

“i’m not, actually.” he revealed, making people gasp and scream from shock.

“who’s the lucky girl if i may ask?” the interviewer continued to ask for further information. mikey smiled, thinking about the only woman that will ever own his heart.

“my best friend, y/n. she’s my wife who unfortunately passed away a few years ago due to an inoperable brain tumor. she’s the love of my life and i miss her every day. i funded the research foundation for inoperable brain tumors in memory of her. she’s the biggest inspiration in my life and i hope she’s happy when she watches over me.” mikey spoke into the mic, making the crowd briefly go silent before a loud wave of claps echoed through the room.

“you’re a great man, mr. sano, i’m sure your wife is very proud of you. she sounds like an amazing woman.” the interviewer offered a consoling smile.

“she was. y/n was brilliant, she was smart and talented in almost every aspect. she’s my other half, which is why it made it hard for me to learn how to live without her after she passed away. but, she always told me how there was too much love in this world and i shouldn’t be consumed by grief. so, i picked myself back up and started something to give other people hope for a better tomorrow.” mikey explained, seeing how the audience was in tears from his heart-touching words.

for a breif moment, mikey saw you amongst the crowd. his eyes widened, seeing you in a beautiful cherry sundress, similar to the one you wear every summer in high school. you were clapping and you blew him a kiss, to which he caught as his eyes teared.

mikey knew that he would never stop falling in love with you and that he would let you break his heart over and over again.

because his heart belong to you and only you.

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willowser · 6 months

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you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds.

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating.

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is.

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

#narrator voice: willow did not have the spoons to extend the ending #whoopsie #okie okie part 2 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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someobsessionrequired · 16 days

Text

OP characters

Would they let you paint their nails?

(Only MILDLY suggestive for Shanks...because yknow...its shanks)

Luffy!

You can absolutely try! He's not against it but this boy will most definitely run off about two fingers in

His color of choice was a ruby red that was supposed to get a coat of silver glitter, sadly you did not make it that far

The few fingers you did get done are completely back to normal within a day from a mixture of picking and chewing at them unconsciously

Sanji!

Is absolutely enthusiastic that you asked him! Tells you to choose whatever color you love the most so he has a constant reminder of you

Most definitely gets a nose bleed the moment you touch his hand, but other than that he sits patiently

Takes extra care in the kitchen to not damage said nails, if they flake off over time he will ask you to fix them for him

Zoro!

Definitely not overly enthusiastic about it but will begrudgingly agree after an idea hits his 2 working brain cells

He will get you to paint his two middle fingers a lime green, and will exclusively use this opportunity to flip Sanji off any chance he gets

Does not last long though within a week all the polish has chipped off

Nami!

100% down, she will request to paint yours as well afterwards

The two of you will be rocking a cute tangerine orange, every couple weeks you two will sit and touch them up again together

Brook!

He will absolutely crack a bone joke about how he does not have nails to paint

Will let you paint the tips of his boney fingers though, he would ask for a shade of blue that reminds him of his dear friend Laboon

Shockingly with a protective coat the polish stays wonderfully for many werks

Robin!

Another who is very happily down and requests to do the same for you! She will make a whole event of the time, tea, and some light reading in-between coats drying

If this becomes a regular ocurance she will mix up colors between dark violet shades and deeper pinks

Jinbe!

This man is not quite sure what you are asking of him but agrees with a hearty chuckle

When you ask him to pick a color he will ask for dealers choice, he does not particularly care about the polish but enjoys the way your face lights up when he agrees

Sadly does not last long on him ask with so much swimming it is bound to break down quickly

Ussop!

Beyond down! Another to make a whole event of the time, hair, face mask, and nails

Paint his nails while he tells you beyond Preposterous stories, the self care will be going both ways that night and by the end both party's will be refreshed

He would choose a forest green and after it drys attempt to do little designs of vines and flowers on them, to a somewhat success

Kid!

You would not even have to ask, this man would run out of his own polish and ask if you had any

A bit annoyed when you ask to paint them for him but agrees under the terms that he can make the two of you match

This man is red all the way, the more like fresh blood the better, will let you once in a while spice it up with painting his middle fingers black

Killer!

God he really did not want to at first but he is a softy and will agree after he sees your disipointment

At first he thought about matching with his captain but quickly decided against that settling on a deep ocean blue

With the amount of fighting this man gets up too it does not last long, but once a week will go to you to have them fixed up

Heat!

Obsessed with the idea! Another to have an entire self care night with you

Will pick a deep firey orange with a lighter orange glitter on top, has you help fix up his dreads as each coat drys, he struggles with the ones behind his head so that where your main focus will be

Afterwards will do the same back for you choosing for your nails to half match his, instead having a sparkly blue on top

This will become a regular occurrence

Wire!

Loves the idea, he's a man of few words so things you can do together that do not put pressure on talking are his favoites

He would wants a darker purple as to complement his outfit, after you finish he would place his hand out and after a moment of confusion you'd understand this him offering to do the same for you!

He takes great care of his nails but fighting takes its damage on them, when they get too bad he will simply approach you and hold out his hand to show how chipped they are, you get the message and fix them up for him

Law!

Absolutely! ...not...

He rejects it flat out multiple times and after so long you just stop asking...

That is until one night all the crew was drinking and celebrating their latest victory, after several too many drinks he approaches you, definitely even in his intoxicated state finds himself struggling with his words to request what he wants

After a while of anxiously waiting for the captain to tell you what he wants he simply asks you to follow him, assuming you are in trouble you are shocked to find him request such a silly thing

Happily you lead him to your chambers digging around in your bag you pull out a matte black polish

The next morning he wakes with a ragging hangover on top of the shock of his nails now painted, wants to be angry but knows it looks damn good, continues to take damn good care of them as well

Penguin! & Shachi!

Okay if you ask one they will not only agree immediately but also drag the other along

Unshocking this will not be an easy endeavor, it starts off strong with the two of them dumping out every color you own digging though struggling to choose a color

Eventually they will settle on a color each, penguin having picked and icey blue and Shaci with an almost neon orange, they request you do every other finger with each color

After you finish up they do the same for you each boy taking a hand, it starts off fine but quickly turns into the two insulting each other over how messy they paint, it turns into a competition of who can paint better

Bepo!

Often you find yourself napping and relaxing with Bepo so after a while of this you mentioned the idea of painting the polar bear's claws

He is absolutely giggling and squealing at the idea, quickly requesting for the most fun color you could think of, this boy wants glitter and do not cheap out! A light icy blue base with as many rainbow sparkle coats you can muster up

He will treasure them and keep them as safe as he can but will come to you with tears in his eyes as they peel off, give this boy a huge and fix them up for him!!

Shanks!

Absolutely will but requests you sit on his lap as you do it, this man will use any sneaky trick to get what he wants but as long as you both are happy he's winning

Wants a shade of red that matches his hair, once you finish up his hand he will ask you to do the other hand, out of pure Instinct you look towards where his other hand would be as he lets out a deep vibracious laugh poking fun at you for the rest of the night

Mihawk!

We'll say no the first time you ask but if you mentioned it a few times he will eventually give in requesting the most simple soild black you can find

After you finish them he takes a moment staring at them before nodding at you and sending you on your way

Over the next few days you'll notice anytime he walks by a mirror to straighten up his outfit he will take a moment to appreciate the nails and how well they complement his look, he may not want to admit it but you can tell he is feeling himself up

Will eventually ask you to fix them up over time as he says he's grown fond of them

Writers note!

Thank you reading! Requests are open for headcanons, fics, and really just about anything!

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thewritetofreespeech · 6 months

Note

Could I request Atsushi, Dazai, and Chuuya with an s/o who has a thread manipulation ability?

Atsushi

“What are you doing?” Atsushi asked as he saw [Y/N] in the breakroom. Their hand waving over what looked like a cape.

“Oh, this is Ranpo-sama’s. He asked me to fix it for him.” The holes in the fabric stitching together like new from their ability, Ties that Bind. “It got nicked on the last mission he went on and he’s been upset about it ever since.”

Atsushi smiled. “It’s nice of you to fix it for him.”

“It’s really no trouble.” Invisible threads spread out from [Y/N]’s back, almost like wings, to pick up some tea & biscuits on the counter and place them on the table. “A thing like this is nothing.”

Atsushi continued to smile. “I wish I had a more useful ability like this. Mine just seems to have the power to destroy.” At least that was how he felt sometimes.

“Don’t say that Atsushi, your powers provide you with the ability to protect.” [Y/N] told them, as they poured the tea themselves with their own two hands. “Every ability has its pros & cons. I won’t say that I’ve used my ability for the best purpose all the time.”

Atsushi never asks them about how they use their ability on missions. They don’t go together often, but he knows enough that the ‘pros & cons’ they are talking about usually means people get killed. “Don’t say that your abilities aren’t useful though.”

He smiled again and sat down at the table, in front of his poured tea. “Ok. I won’t.” He promised. Enjoying the rest of the afternoon with [Y/N].

Chuuya

Chuuya growled as his opponent mocked him again. “What’s the matter Port Mafia-san? Can’t hit a target you can’t catch?”

This guy, this idiot, had the ability to teleport anywhere he chose. Chuuya figured it must be short range, or at least an area in sight, since he hadn’t left the building yet. But it was just getting really annoying because he could catch him if he just brought the whole building down! But apparently he wasn’t allowed to do that….anymore.

“You Port Mafia goons are all brawn and no brains! You need to get up pretty early in the morning to get one past Monsieur--!” The idiot stopped talking, cutting off what Chuuya had to assume was an annoying introduction, when his arm was suddenly caught in a mass of silvery string.

“My, my, so loud…” The annoying man looked alarmed as he saw [Y/N] come out of the shadows. He wanted to tell him that he should be alarmed. But he had been so annoying that Chuuya didn’t want to help him. “You know my mother always told me that people who just keep talking, usually have nothing of value to add to the conversation at all.”

The annoying man smirked at their reply. “Nothing of value, eh? We’ll see about that!”

He teleported again. Trying to come up behind [Y/N] for some alleged clever attack, but found himself caught in another bundle of threads. When [Y/N] cooly looked over their shoulder at him, the idiot became visibly scared and teleported again. This time away, but again in another mass of threads.

This continued over & over with the idiot trying to teleport out of his situation. Panic and fear apparently making it impossible that he had already fallen into [Y/N]’s literal web. The more he tried to get out the worse it became. Until all that was left was a silvery white mask of threads, suspended in mid air by their attachments, and the idiots muffled screams.

“I could have had him.” Chuuya remarked when it was all over.

“I know you could have dear.” [Y/N] cooed. Trying to soothe his pout. “But, leadership is so stingy against property damage these days. This way is much easier.”

They linked arms with Chuuya and walked out with him. An associate team already there to collect. “Don’t let that idiot get out!” He ordered them. “Let him rot in there for all I care.”

“That’s my big strong guy!”

Dazai

Dazai wheezed as he came out of the river. His left arm still handcuffed, but broken off from his right, giving him the opportunity to push his wet hair out of his eyes. ‘Damnit’ He thought. ‘Failed again. I was sure the barrel trick would have worked this time.’

“Have a nice little sail?” Dazai looked up the bank to see [Y/N] standing there. Pristine and infatuating as ever, but with that icky face they made when he tried one of these stunts. “Did you at least ask the shopkeeper this time before you stole his barrel?”

“He didn’t seem to mind.” Dazai replied as he walked up the bank. Sore, but alive. Like he hadn’t been punished enough for being alive. “I take it this is you then? My plan was surely fool proof this time.”

“Then it obviously wouldn’t work since you are a fool.”

They were avoiding the question, which gave Dazai all the information he needed to know. Of course it had been them.

Ties that Bind. A thread manipulation technique that had incredible defensive and offensive capabilities. Virtually limitless from distance. Practically indestructible bindings. And one other very special technique.

‘Threads’ were not only bestowed upon [Y/N] in the literal sense. They were also metaphorical. Through their ability they could connect and manipulate the secret threads of life between people for their own gain. Relationships. Consciousness. Memories. And yes, even, the intangible thread of life force. If they put their mind to it.

“Why won’t you just let me die?” Dazai asked them. He wasn’t begging. He was still too proud to beg for death. “It must be a terrible drain keeping my thread intact all this time.”

“Don’t act all pious by pretending it would be my benefit to let you die. If I can stop your idiocy, for as long as I can, I will.” They turned to walk away, and of course Dazai followed. He’d already tried to kill himself once today. He didn’t like a double show. “Where would I be without you, Dazai? You just plan to leave me alone?”

“I offered to have you come with me, but you refused.” He replied. Shrugging his shoulders like he’d asked them to come with him to a café, not the other side. “I even offered to let you choose how. Or to use your ability. Being bound together for all eternity by your invisible threads sounds like a wonderful way to go!”

[Y/N] hmphed. “I don’t want to die like you Dazai. I know I can’t stop it forever. But I don’t want to speed it along.”

The tall brunette shrugged at that. Respecting their decision. “I suppose, for now, I can’t either. With you keeping my thread whole, I guess I’ll have to stick around longer.”

“Is it really that horrible living Dazai?”

He wanted to tell them yes but…when he looked into their eyes, all he could think of was, “no. I guess not horrible.”

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kechiwrites · 1 year

Text

not quite heart-shaped

simon “ghost” riley x medic!reader

synopsis: you and simon both have the 14th off, and by god you were going to make the most of it. pt. 4/?

wc: 2.3k

cw: afab + fem!reader, fluff, banter, cunnilingus, fingering, teasing, very light breeding kink, femme pet name (princess), no use of y/n ever.

an: the return of medic reader, special thanks to @weebitofaslag who with a single comment reignited my love for their dynamic. babes all my knowledge of the military comes from romance novels, mw2 campaign and my fleeting contact with the canadian armed forces. so like if i get something wrong…don’t tell me. happy valentines day!

pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3

"Three." The tense quiet of the bedroom is disrupted by your offer.

Ghost stands in front of you, and despite his crossed arms his posture is deceptively casual.

He scoffs at your pitch. The standoff is common for the two of you. Basically foreplay at this point. Pretending to be irritated and annoyed with each other until you're basically begging to rip each other's clothes off.

"No way." He grunts, but doesn't provide a number of his own.

You can't keep the disbelief out of your tone.

"Less than three, Simon? You're losing your touch!"

That does get a rise out of him and he stops leaning against the bathroom door frame.

"More than three. Anything less than five is a waste of both of our days off. But you knew that, didn't you, princess?"

"I don't know if I have five in me to give, honestly." You choke out, already tugging off the sweater you wore.

"If I'm eating you out, I'm spending the day down there." He huffs.

You're breathless when you finally respond, your cool and collected demeanour crumbling in the wake of his assertion.

"Yeah okay, that's fine, but wanting to fuck me after? I may not even be conscious." When he doesn’t respond, you gasp dramatically, like a soap opera lead discovering a villain’s plot. "Maybe that's what you want! Simon! Who knew you were so depraved?" It’s easy to be silly with him lately, even more so when you’re both free of the oppressive air of the base you’re both stationed at.

"Get on the bed or get out of my house." His shirt’s already off, and it’s oh so hard to stay on the task of mocking him when the cut muscle and little bit of fat on his torso shine under the room’s low light. With the mask still on, and the dark fabric of his pants obscuring his bottom half, he makes quite the sight. The pale, wide expanse of his chest, only broken up by tattoos and healed, pink scars and sandy, blond chest hair makes your mouth water. He steps towards you, hooking the thumb under the mask and pulling it up. It feels as though the cloth is moving in slow motion, your heart beating loud and erratic with anticipation. When he stops so it rests on his nose, you exhale, not quite disappointed, but you sure as hell aren’t relieved.

“Sex in a bed?” You question facetiously, willing your brain to revert back to being a little shit. You know he can’t stand when you're being a brat, it reminds him of just how easily he’d lost control, just how messily he’d fucked you the first time, but around Simon you just can't seem to stop yourself, “You're spoiling me.” You lay back on the bed as ordered, contorting your arms to shimmy out of your bra, then your bottoms, tugging your underwear along with them. Not a thong this time, a fact that seems to disappoint Simon when he notices your regular boyshort panties entangled in your discarded sweatpants.

“Yeah, don't get used to it, I'm just tired of the smell of antiseptic.” He mutters, kicking your discarded clothes off to the side.

You snort derisively, spreading your legs so he can lay between them, allowing for him to brush the petal soft skin of his lips against your hip, your thigh, just above your knee. “Ladies and gentlemen, the last true romantic.” You mumble, patting the top of his head, lamenting your inability to card your fingers through his fine blonde hair.

Your entire body jolts when his tongue comes in contact with your clit, a full body shiver alerting Ghost to just how badly you'd needed this. He hasn't shaved and his stubble scrapes the soft skin of your inner thighs, forcing a jolt up your spine, shuddering breaths escaping your lungs as his mouth gets better acquainted with the lips of your cunt.

He drags his tongue over you in your entirety, taking special interest in the skin just below your entrance, he stays there, skimming, sucking, licking, until you're worried he'll manage to give you a hickey there, on your fucking taint. He has you dripping with his spit and your own slick, and the sound when he returns to your clit is obscene. He brings both hands up towards your abdomen, but neither continues the course to where you want them, on top of your chest, plucking at your nipples, or even around your throat, obstructing your airway. Instead, Simon's left hand pushes down on your abdomen, and his right gently shifts the hood of your clit up so he can abuse it better.

All the soldiers in all the world and you had to hook up with the one who eats pussy like that?

"Fuck." You wince, and you twitch away from him as best you can, which only makes him suck harder, like he’s giving you ‘two for flinching’. You groan loud and unashamed, assured by the privacy afforded by not fucking on base for once. Your toes curl and relax over and over, the periodic tremble of your hips against his mouth has him holding you down as best he can, determined to pull more sounds from your wide open mouth. Your whole body tenses and you let out a litany of curses only disrupted by stutters of his name, all while you clench around nothing. He’s mumbling into you as you come, but whatever he’s saying ultimately doesn’t fucking matter when the vibrations of his voice make you want to cry or scream or kick Simon in his stupid masked face.

There's barely any hangtime between your orgasm shuttering through you and Simon circling his arms around your thighs before he tongue fucks you mercilessly, letting the tip of the muscle broach your entrance while he drags the edge of his teeth over the still buzzing flesh of your labia. He hooks his arms around your thighs and pulls you onto his face, until you get with the program and begin rolling your hips, pressing your clit against the bridge and tip of his nose, allowing his tongue to push deeper within you.

Your body is already dripping its satisfaction all over his chin, and this time with breath barely in your lungs it takes longer for him to get you into a place of desperation again. But by God, does Simon Riley get you there. This time he takes a break from the constant contact between your cunt and his tongue to slip one of his thumbs into your entrance, fucking you with slow and deliberate strokes, like a promise of what he’ll do to you later when he finally fucks you. Long, greedy swipes of his tongue jar your brain like a hit to the head. You try to struggle away, levering up with your arms before he tugs you down again like a fucking ragdoll, like you trying not to lose your fucking mind is a slight inconvenience to him. He lays wet, panting, open mouth kisses over the pulsing heat of your cunt, and when you you raise your head to - fuck you don’t know - curse his entire bloodline, you can see he’s helplessly grinding his hips into the mattress, seeking some sort of friction while he tongues at your folds, while you soak him to the knuckle. It’s hot, hotter than it has any right to be and you flop back down, turning your head into his pillow to muffle your moans. Old habits and all that. Unfortunately, the pillow is steeped in Simon’s scent, and your eyelids drift closed when you inhale deeply. Your breath stalls and you ride out yet another climax on his tongue, this time very grateful for the way he fingers you through it, even if his thumb isn’t nearly big enough. The bed beneath you bears the brunt of your orgasm this time, damp sheets attesting to your fervent enjoyment.

“What a mess you’ve made.” He speaks, once you stop huffing, voice disturbingly even, like he didn’t just factory reset your body. Which is…incredibly irritating.

“You know technically as a doctor I outrank you.” You snip, nose in the air.

“So?” He lifts his head, but his eyes are still locked between your legs, not quite able to decide if he wants to move from where he is so clearly comfortable.

“So…” you mock him, squeezing your thighs around his neck, until his stare is redirected to your face. “you should be fucking nice to me, asshole.” He digs his thumbs into the back of your knees, until you release him. Slowly, he drags himself up, over your body until he can lay on his back next to you.

“You know, I really should have finished inside you that first time. Knocked you up and had you taken off base.” And wouldn’t that have been a fun conversation for you to have with your CO. ‘I’m so sorry ma’am, he wears a mask and has big hands and knows my kinks. I had no choice, ma’am.’

“Stop talking or I’m gonna sit on your dick.” You whisper, shutting your eyes against the harsh beam of the light overhead. Your heart rate is finally starting to settle, and you’re grateful for the moment of reprieve, the few moments he gives for you to stitch your mind back together, to regain purposeful use of the human language.

Shoulder to shoulder in his bed, and no longer occupied with singing Simon’s praises, your mind begins to harmlessly wander, unhelpfully cataloguing that you aren’t even halfway through what he’s planned for you. You also start to filter through your responsibilities due in the coming days. It’s automatic at this point, a system you developed during school, when papers and projects and your social life all constantly contradicted each other. You’d come, at the hands of yourself or someone else, and your orgasm cleared brain began building a calendar. Nothing today, of course, you’d cleared your schedule and no one had questioned why. Most people wouldn’t question anyone taking off Valentines.

The “holiday” never really stuck out to you in the past, for one reason or another. Work, med school, family stuff, hell sometimes you just didn’t fucking feel like it. But this year, today, you can’t help yourself.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Simon.” You puff, keeping your eyes trained on the ceiling, letting your brain make patterns out of the popcorn ceiling.

“Ah,” he vocalizes, voice gruff. “Right.” he shifts in his bed, and you figure you’ve got about 30 seconds before he gives you the dusty combat boot. Your face burns with embarrassment, why the fuck did you say that? When did he ever give you even the slightest inclination he gave a shit about some overblown, capitalistic, aggrandized-

“Here.” A bag of jellybeans is unceremoniously plopped onto your bare chest, right between your tits.

“Where were you hiding these?” You gawp, struggling to string together a sentence as you examine the bag of colourful candies. It has a bow on it. You finger the pre-tied ribbon, stuck on with an adhesive pad.

“Under the bed.” He grunts, rubbing at his eyes and the bridge of his nose, like he’s fending off a headache, but you think he may just be embarrassed, if the pink tips of his ears are anything to go by.

“This is sweet.” You choke out, and you have to sink your teeth into your already swollen lower lip to stop from giggling hysterically. “Thank you, Simon.”

“Mng.” He makes the noise in his throat, forgoing the English language for the easy comfort of grunts, watching you tear the bag open and chew on a handful of the brightly coloured beans. All at once, like some kind of animal. The flavours don’t quite go together, strawberry and buttered popcorn and root beer. Others you can’t even begin to pin down. But you're too frazzled to eat them how you usually would, your favourites first, then making combinations with whatever’s left, guided by the suggestions on the back of the bag. And ultimately, it’s not altogether too unpleasant. It works, in a fucked up, saccharine sweet kind of way. Kind of like you and-

“Alright, put it away.” He rasps, turning over to cover you with his weight once more, sliding down to get started on orgasm three.

He plucks the bag out of your hands and drops it on the nightstand near you, devoid of any knick knacks or photographs, just a beat up 70s style alarm clock that acts as a pedestal for your candy.

“My beans!” You shout, trying in vain to secure the confection for further enjoyment. You give up your fruitless endeavour when Simon sinks his teeth into the flesh of your breast on his way back down to your pussy.

“I didn’t get you anything.” You moan, pressing the cool palms of your hands to your overheated face, soothing the mix of embarrassment and giddiness stirring in your mind.

“I’ll live.” He grouses, bending your knees, holding your thighs up and together with both palms at the back of your knees. You can’t see his face. Have never seen the whole thing, but you’d bet all the jellybeans in the fucking world, that Simon Riley’s cheeks are pink.

the beans were soap’s idea for sure. poor guy’s definitely heard them fucking more than once. support city girls, reblog what u like. happy valentines.

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x black reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut #kechiwrites #cod mw2 smut #cod fic #ghost x black!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x fem reader

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l8rs-gat0rs · 6 months

Text

You got some time?

Pairing: Carol Danvers x AFAB Spider person!reader

Warning(s): smut ;) , flirty Carol, reader is also kinda a flirt, CAPTAIN KIIIINK, Carol using her powers in you in you, degradation, moderate fluff, Dom Carol is a warning itself.

Summary: The Captain's got some free time on her hands and so do you, you decide to have a night out because superheroes don't get many of those. As the night goes on, Carol decides time isn't the only thing she wants her hands on and you have the exact same idea.

Word count: 3.4k

I know, I know, I have requests to finish but my brain would not let me write them until I finished this one. I will get to the requests soon! I swear😔

Happy kinktober btw!!!! One of the best times of the year if I do say so myself😌 I obviously didn't participate in all 30 days bc I've tried in previous years, and it did not work out Haha, but here's at least one fic for Kinktober before it ends!

Side note for story purposes: I know a lot of people have their own spider personas with suits they made for them, which might I add, I've loved looking at all the artwork of! Buuuut, just so one or two of the scenes make sense, the reader's mask is kinda like Jessica drew's. The one in the comics, not across the spider verse just so we're clear. Like, the nose, mouth, and chin are open and the reader's hair is out from the top.

~~~~18+ MINORS DNI~~~~

You swung through the streets of Queens, smiling as you saw people point at you excitedly.

You were doing your evening rounds and all was looking quiet, thankfully.

You swung onto a rooftop and landed gracefully.

You had to say, you loved New York City. You grew up with the sounds of cars honking all night outside your window, you found it to be charming rather than annoying.

On top of all the warm memories and friends you made in the city, one of your favorite things in the world, nothing could beat the view of the sun setting behind all the buildings and skyscrapers from a rooftop.

"It never gets old does it?" You heard a woman's voice behind you.

You turned around as she landed, recognizing her voice.

"Carol" You smiled.

"Hey spider girl." She smiled at you, using one of your titles endearingly.

"Captain." You said right back.

If you weren't staring at her so intensely, you wouldn't have caught the slight falter in her confidence as she looked away, clearing her throat before looking back at you.

However, before you could comment on it she locked eyes with you once more and spoke.

"I'm kind of jealous you've had this view all your life." She spoke quietly, moving to stand next to you and gaze over the view you had previously been looking at.

You turned around and smiled.

"Yeah, well I bet nothing beats space." You smirked and nudged her with your elbow.

She chuckled, turning back to look at you.

"It's not all that, lots of emptiness and darkness if I'm being honest, and I miss the people."

She turned back to the sunset before continuing.

"I like this much better." She sighed.

The sun shone a beautiful golden light onto her face. As the wind blew through her hair, the sun made it shine even more golden than it already was.

"Yeah, me too." You said softly.

She turned to you and smiled, a faint blush reaching her cheeks as she realized what you meant.

"Ew you’re so cliché," she punched your arm lightly, causing you to laugh.

"So everything clear on your front?" She asked, turning to you.

"Yup, just finished my evening rounds. There's no sign of any supervillains, and I left a guy webbed to a pole for the cops. Surprisingly quiet other than that." You shrugged.

She chuckled causing you to smile at the sound.

"Well, it's all quiet on my end as well, sooooo...." She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

"Soooo?" You responded curiously.

"Come on! We finally both have some free time, let's do something together!" She exclaimed.

It was true, you usually didn't have free time, and when you did, Carol wasn't free.

After thinking about it for a minute, you agreed.

"Alright, what did you have in mind?" You smiled, causing her to jump in the air and clap.

"How abouuuut, we watch a movie?" She pitched after calming down.

"Hmm okay, what kind of movie?" You asked absentmindedly walking up the side of the water tower that was on the roof.

Carol lifted her head to watch you as she mused.

"What about a rom-com?" She asked with faux innocence.

You stopped in your tracks as you stood upside down from under the water tower.

You attached a web to the underside and slowly descended, still upside down, till you were in front of Carol, her eyes following you the whole way down.

"A rom-com you say?" You smirked.

"Yeah, why not?" She shrugged.

"What's with the smirk?"

"Nothing, nothing....So is this like...a date?" You swung lightly, your hair swaying with you.

"So rom-com equals date to you?" She smirked.

"No, but you specifically asking me to watch a rom-com with just you, feels like a date."

"Okay, then what if it was a date?" She shrugged.

"Then I wouldn't be mad" You smiled, still hanging upside down, but stopping your swaying.

"Then it's a date." She said, moving closer to you, while watching your lips.

"Isn't this a bit cliché?" You whispered with a playful smile, referencing her earlier comment.

"What, you want me to be upside down too?" She joked.

You laughed before stealthily turning yourself upright and landing on the floor, letting go of your web.

"I mean we haven't even been on the date yet, Danvers." You chuckled.

"Fair enough, I can wait." She said coolly.

"Who said I was kissing you at all tonight?" You shot back.

"I just have a feeling," she smirked before turning to walk away from the water tower.

You followed her, smiling at her confidence.

"You look good in the mask by the way." She added, not turning around.

Your face felt hot at her unexpected compliment.

"Th-Thanks" You cursed yourself for stuttering.

She looked over her shoulder and smirked at your response.

"No problem, so, I'll meet you at the theater on 37th avenue?" She asked, turning around to face you and slowly walking backwards.

"Yeah, sure." You confirmed.

"I'm gonna wear something nice tonight." She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wow, the great Captain Marvel dressing up all for me!?" You gasped, over-exaggerating your reaction with your hand over your chest.

She stopped walking backwards.

"Not for you, it's just been a while since I dressed up." She rolled her eyes.

"Come onnnn, admit it! It's mostly for me." You smirked and crossed your arms as you finally stood in front of her.

"Well I'll admit one thing, you're special." She winked.

You felt your chest swell with warmth and you smiled like an idiot.

"Alright then, I'll dress up a bit too." You thought about what to wear.

"Oh? That sounds promising." Carol smirked before you saw her body start to glow with energy.

"See you soon?" She asked with a raised brow and she started to lift off the ground.

"See you soon, captain." You smiled and saluted her.

She smirked before flying off the opposite way of you.

"What. A. Woman." You sighed aloud to yourself with your hands on your hips before swinging towards your house.

When you get home you fretted over what to wear.

You didn't wanna go overboard, but it was a date, Carol also said she was dressing up...

You settled with a red button up, the first 2 buttons unbuttoned, tucked into black jeans with suspenders, topping it off with your favorite black chuck Taylors.

"Wow I look so gay." You chuckled to yourself.

You stepped outside your house and put your portable suit that Tony gave you in your pocket.

You didn't like wearing it that much, preferring the suit you designed yourself, but hey, when duty calls....

You got into the Uber you had ordered and gave the driver the address of the theater.

When you got there, you saw Carol already waiting outside, and boy did your jaw drop.

She was wearing a suit with a bow tie, her hair was in waves, and she topped it all off with shiny black dress shoes.

Her eyes lit up and she smiled when she saw you get out of the car.

"Jesus Christ Carol, I thought I was gonna be overdressed." You gaped at her.

She looked at you with a smirk.

"You look extremely good, trust me"

"And you look like you're going to a movie premier." You laughed.

"Hey, like I said, I don't get to dress up often. This was just hanging in my closet collecting dust." She gestured to her suit.

"Well in any case, you look absolutely stunning, Carol." You smiled at her, barely managing to keep your jaw shut as you glanced over her once again.

"Thank you, you as well. That outfit really...suits...you" She winked, giving you a nudge.

You rolled your eyes at her pun referring to her own outfit.

"God, you are so corny." You rolled your eyes playfully.

"Come on, you loved it." She laughed.

You cracked a smile.

"Okay yeah, it was cute." You laughed along with her.

"Oh, so you think I'm cute?" She smirked.

"Oh shut up! Lets just go buy the movie tickets before all the good seats are taken." Your face heated up, grabbing her arm and pulling her into the theater as she laughed, letting you drag her.

The two of you bought tickets to a rom-com that was currently playing in theaters.

People stared at the two of you, or maybe just Carol, but nobody had the guts to come up to either of you when they saw her hand around your waist.

You made your way into the theater with minimal distractions, the only one being a little girl saying hello to Carol and high fiving her.

You had smiled fondly at the cute interaction.

"I'm actually excited, I wanted to see this movie if I'm being honest." You explained excitedly.

"Well then, I'm glad we came." Carol said as you made your way to your seats.

The two of you had come in a bit late so the lights were dim and the trailers were playing.

When you sat down Carol immediately held your hand, causing heat to slap your face as you looked at your intertwined hands.

She smiled at you as you looked up to meet her eyes, which were already watching you.

"You're adorable you know?" Carol confessed to you in a hushed whisper.

"I could say the same thing about you." You smiled.

She smiled back, but before she could say anything else, the theater went dark and the movie began to play.

"Oh shit it's starting!" You whispered excitedly, moving your attention to the screen.

The two of you watched the movie mostly in silence, occasionally, you would feel Carol's thumb lightly brushing your hand, or you would make an energetic comment about whatever was happening in the movie.

You were secretly a movie buff, and Carol thoroughly enjoyed getting to see that side of you revealed.

When the movie ended, you filed out of the theater along with everyone else and it was dark outside.

You looked up at the moon, shining brightly through the clouds.

"We should do this more often." Carol broke the silence, bringing your attention back to her.

"What, go on dates?" You chuckled.

"I mean of course, but also, Just you and me, hanging out, no pressure, no crazy aliens coming after us, no big fights, or catching criminals. Just, having a good time. It's nice." She smiled.

Your heart warmed at the sincerity In her voice.

"Yeah, I'd like that too Carol." You grinned at her, stopping in your tracks and putting your hands in your pockets.

"And... I'd even go as far as to say I like you." You said softly as you smiled at the ground.

You looked back up at Carol and she had the biggest grin on her face and her cheeks were flushed.

You laughed loudly at her silent reaction.

"What?"

"I like you too." She simply said.

"I like you a lot." She moved closer toward you causing your heart to flutter.

"So what do you suppose we do about it, I mean, now that it's out in the air and all that." You nonchalantly waved your hands in the air.

She chuckled as she walked towards you until she had you backed up into an alleyway you hadn't even noticed you were by.

Before you could get a word out, she grabbed you by the arm and pushed up against the wall, kissing you passionately.

You practically melted into the kiss.

"Oh, I've been dreaming about that." Carol said breathlessly as she pulled away lightly.

You didn't say anything for a moment, your brain still processing what had just happened.

"Wanna come over?" You asked her quickly just as she was about to speak up.

She cocked and eyebrow and smirked.

"I'm down."

You practically dragged her down the street before hailing a taxi that was parked on the side of the road.

"Are you working?" You asked the driver through the window.

He nodded and you got in the car, Carol getting in after you.

"Someone's in a hurry." Carol smirked, putting her hand on your upper thigh.

Your head shot down to look at her hand as you saw it glow with energy, you felt it warm your skin through your jeans.

You looked at her, biting your lip to hold in a groan.

As soon as the Taxi stopped outside your apartment, you thanked the driver and got out of the car.

You walked to your apartment holding Carol's hand the whole time.

You pressed the elevator button and got in, thankfully no one else was in there.

There was a charged silence between the two of you as you watched the numbers on the elevator until Carol broke it.

"You want me to fuck you? Hard or soft? Fast or slow?" Carol said with a confident smirk.

Your eyes widened as you looked at her and she cocked an eyebrow.

"Oh shut the fuck up, Danvers." You grabbed her and smashed your lips against hers, moaning lightly.

You felt her smile against your lips before you heard the ding of the elevator, causing the two of you to quickly separate.

You speed walk to your door, ripping your keys out of your pocket, almost dropping your Stark spider suit before you shoved it into the keyhole and turned it, unlocking your door.

Carol pushes you inside and slams your back into the door to close it.

You let out a gasp as the motion winds you and Carol has an open lusty smile as her lips barely touch yours and she reaches next to you to lock the door.

After locking the door, Carol makes quick work of untucking and unbuttoning your shirt, feeling up your body.

She lets out a little excited sound as she watches you react to her touch.

"I know it was only our first date and kiss today but, I would like your permission to absolutely ruin you tonight." Carol asks, looking into your dazed eyes.

You nod without hesitation.

"Do anything you want to me, Captain." You groan.

You watch as her eyes get wild and a lustful expression graces her face.

Carol attaches her lips to your neck and immediately starts marking you. You feel her moan against your skin as she sucks on it.

Your moans fill the space of your apartment even more as she squeezes your chest underneath the sports bra while she works on your neck.

Once she is satisfied with her work, she plays with your hardened nipples as she whispers hotly into your neck, her warm breath contrarily leaving goosebumps on your skin.

"You're so pretty like this baby." She moves her thigh in between yours and pushes you down onto it.

You gasp out as you start moving your hips against her muscular thigh.

"Mmm that's it, just like that baby."

You watch as she pulls back and holds you up against the wall as she watches your hips working her thigh with her mouth hanging open.

You slip your hand into her pants and she lets out a moan when you start rubbing tight circles on her clit.

Carol closes her eyes in pleasure and moans loudly as you slip your fingers into her already soaking wet core, moving your hips fast against her thigh as she jerks her hips against your fingers.

Before the two of you get too lost in the pleasure Carol halts her movements, as well as yours. Before you open your mouth to protest, she looks you in the eyes and you see that they've darkened, her pupils blown out.

"As much as I'd like both of us to cum right here, right now, we should take this to the bedroom." She chuckles breathily as she pants.

"Mmmm, a modest lady huh?" You smirk as she helps you stand up straight again before you lead her to your bedroom.

"Hey, it's our first time, I want it to be amazing." She holds your hand.

You look at her and smile as you lead her into your bedroom, your heart feeling warm from her revelation.

"Me too," you nod.

"But I also need you to fuck me like... really bad." You add.

"I can absolutely do that " Carol smirks as both of you start to remove your shirts.

"Tell me how bad you want it." Carol whispered in your ear.

"Fuck, I want it so bad..." You groaned, your forehead falling against her neck as you breathed heavily.

Carol pushed you till the back of your knees hit the bed and you sat down, looking up at her.

"Fuck, those eyes... tell me princess, you want my fingers in you?" She asked, cocking her head as she slowly got down on her knees in front of you.

"God yes, I want your fingers-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, Carol had pulled your pants down and moved your underwear to the side, shoving two of her long fingers into you.

You gasped, your mouth hanging open while you stared at her with furrowed brows.

"I already knew the answer." She smirked.

"God, could you just shut up and-"

She pushed her fingers in deeper, all the way to her knuckles and you let out a choked moan.

"hmm? What was that baby?" She held her smirk, still standing on her knees.

You laid down, your back hitting the bed roughly as you slid down a little, pushing your core closer to her.

"F-fuck you.." You gasped as she pulled her fingers out and pushed them all the way back in, reveling in the wet sounds.

"Shit, I could listen to your pretty pussy all day. You'd like that wouldn't you? Me fucking you all day?" She cooed.

You nodded aggressively, panting as the pace of her fingers started to quicken.

"Yeah? Oh I know, you love being fingered like a slut huh?" Carol started to pant.

You don't know what came over you but you moaned loudly,

"C-captain!"

Carol's eyes went wild and you felt warmth and a little buzz inside you.

You gasped out,

"Holy fuck!!" Your legs felt like they were going numb.

"Call me that again." She growled lowly, the pace of her fingers quickening.

You looked down at her and saw her hand glowing, before letting your head fall back and arching your back.

"Captain, fuck... don't stop." You moaned loudly.

"That's right, let your captain know how good she's making you feel. I can feel your slutty pussy practically sucking my fingers in." She moaned.

And she was right, you could feel yourself clenching around her fingers tightly as you rapidly approached your high.

"Yeah, oh god, I'm- you're gonna make me cum, Captain... Please... It feels so good, you make me feel so good...Please make me cum." You moaned in between pants.

"As you wish, princess." She smirked, her fingers combined with the warmth of her inside you sending you over the edge.

Carol continued thrusting her fingers deep inside you, watching your face as you writhed in pleasure, your back arching off the sheets once again as you grabbed the sheets tightly and moaned loudly with your eyes shut tight.

When it was too much to bare due to the sensitivity, you pushed at Carol's hand and she obediently pulled her fingers out.

You watched as her hand stopped glowing and watched her hungry eyes as she panted while examining her fingers coated in your juices.

She brought her fingers to her mouth and stuck her tongue out a little, barely putting her fingers in her mouth.

Once her fingers touched her tongue you watched with furrowed brows and your mouth hanging open as she moaned loudly, closing her eyes and sticking her fingers all the way Into her mouth.

She swirled her tongue around her fingers for a couple of seconds before pulling her fingers out of her mouth with a pop and meeting your eyes.

"Baby, you taste fucking amazing." She breathed out.

You groaned and let your head fall back on to the bed as your breathing started to fall down.

You felt the bed dip next to you and you turned your head, meeting Carol's warm gaze.

"How was that for our first time?" She smirked.

"I think it could've been better." You shrugged jokingly.

"Oh? Well, I guess that means it's time for round two."

#fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction writer #carol danvers smut #carol danvers x female reader #carol danvers x reader #carol danvers x you #captain marvel x you #captain marvel x reader #kinktober

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tobyislame · 7 months

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Hi this is awkward s/o person again, you have fueled my toby brain and I'd like to make another request (if you're willing)

What would he be like with his s/o on Halloween? Does he dress up with them, get candy, or maybe stay home and watch scary movies with them? And very important question...if he dresses up, who would he dress up as?

toby rogers x reader: HALLOWEEN EDITION!!!!

welcome back friend!!! i will always be willing i love your requests!! OHOHOHO i am going to get soo silly with this one

- toby goes fucking BALLISTIC over halloween oh my god. it's the only time of the year where he can go into town and just be normal. everyone's got masks on, everyone's donning costumes, so he blends in like butter on bread. being able to exist in a public space without so much as a dirty look is fucking elating, it's one of the only graces of normalcy that he gets and he milks the opportunity for everything its got. what most would treat like any other day, he treats like a paragon. for one night he isn't toby rogers, wanted dead or alive - he's just some guy.

- he's suuuper fucking annoying about it too. he wants to do ALL the halloween stuff and he WILL drag you along with him whether you want it or not. his mansion buds aren't exempt from this treatment either no one is safe

- before night falls and the real fun begins, you guys are staying in and he's making SURE you have a good day. he's got those cheap halloween cookies in the oven (you know the ones they got pumpkins on em), his place is done up with lights and tacky dollar store decorations, and he's got a pot of apple cider simmering on the stove that mixes with the woodsy smell of his cabin just fucking beautifully. he tries really hard.

- he gets really fucking into it, and you can't help but find his admittedly childlike excitement over it a little endearing. if you ever commented on it, about how he hardly gets this excited over anything else, he'd probably just get all weirdly defensive and dismissive over it. he's been this way about it since he was a kid, never really grew out of it. even after everything.

- he's putting out a SPREAD of treats for you guys: candy corn, caramel corn, the works. can't have it any other way if you're marathoning slashers. there's a sort of unmentionable effort he puts into it with the halloween paper plates he goes out of his way to get (steal), one of those little details that puts this subdued warmth in your chest. he wants to make everything nice for you. he wants for you to have good things.

- you two. on his pilled up couch. grandpa sweaters. steaming apple cider in thrifted (stolen) mugs. flannel blanket. crackling embers from the log burner. oh yeah baby

- he makes halloween movie watchlists. oh yeah he's serious about this. he only really likes the kind of stuff you can snag off rental store shelves: sleepaway camp for eye candy (we need more slutty slutty men in horror flicks), hellraiser but only the 1987 one, texas chainsaw massacre but only the 1974 one (he's got a crush on leatherface that he'll never admit to anyone or himself), the thing is his fucking FAVORITE horror movie of all time, throw the final destinations in there just for fun, stuff like that. saw movies are his guilty pleasure. even with you, he tries to be some hard-ass and play it off when he gets all spooked and jumpy, though the way he clings to you just a little tighter says something else.

- yea this man has split skulls and gotten brain matter stuck in his hair and horror movies still scare him

- now the most important question: costumes.

- ok i have two visions for what he'd be and in both events he's forcing you to dress up with him: for one i can totally see him throwing on some ferris bueller getup and dragging you along as either sloane or cameron, or y'all are going as bill and ted and he's calling dibs on bill (so he has an excuse to wear a crop top it's totally only for the costume). if you refuse to dress up he will not shut up about how you're "no fun" until you give in

- he also uses the holiday as an opportunity to terrorize the general public. you guys are hiding out in corn mazes and jumping out at whatever poor soul happens to walk by like some surprise scare actor, pretending to be ghosts to scare off the kids who think hanging out at cemeteries makes them cool. he's the village menace. genuinely the HOA puts up a sign saying look out for this guy

- he takes you "trick or treating" but with the biggest quotations ever. he'll go around to the houses that just have bowls of candy out with a sign that says "please take one" or something and straight up just take the bowl

- when he isn't having (mostly) harmless fun and treating the townspeople like his plaything, he's treating you to some good wholesome traditional halloween activities, and he's a massive sucker for those. like, no fucking question about it he is dragging your ass to the pumpkin patch. if he's lucky he can get a five finger discount on some caramel apples for you two. of COURSE he's hauling some pumpkins home for you guys to carve, even if he'll just inevitably leave them to rot on his porch but he SWEARS he'll throw them out soon he SWEARS

- he insists on going to at least one haunted house even though he's the one that always gets you two kicked out for clocking scare actors. he's banned from most of them

- at some point in the night you'll probably end up crashing some college house party and, even though they scare him shitless, nothing makes him feel more like a guy than standing around with a red solo cup in his hand. he isn't there to make friends anyway (god knows he has no clue how), he's the one that just kinda pets the dog the entire time then leaves

- at the very end of day you guys are falling asleep tangled up in each other on the couch, smoke hanging in the air and the dvd screensaver bouncing around on the tv screen

#hes just a guy man idk what 2 say #he gets to hav a little humanity as a treat #ticci toby #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby x reader #toby rogers #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta #tobyhcs #tobyxreader

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mythicalmyles · 7 months

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Masky, Hoddie or Toby (You decide) with a hippie m reader ✨😤🫶🏻

Punk!Masky x Femboy!Hippie!Reader x Punk!Hoodie their implied demons

Guns/noncon/bottom male/degradation/feminization/cameras

The lake was welcomingly cold as you dipped your feet into it, the feeling of the flowers blowing in your hair was therapeutic. The sun was warm as you tilted your head back, eyes closed and soaking in the suns rays. Lately it seemed harder and harder to get yourself out here, despite living less then an hour away. The normalities of life always seemed to intercept your journey here lately, the last time had been two months ago.

The wind lightly blew at your skirt, the ruffled fabric rubbing against your thighs. A loud twig snapping had you spinning around, eyes searching the forest. Luckily the forrest only had black bears, at least you had a chance. However if it was a pissed off moose you considered your life already over, you had always been on the naive side of things. Convinced if you minded your business then everything else would leave you alone.

You stood up on shaky legs and quickly slid your shoes back on, making sure to keep darting your eyes around the forest. Part of you was annoyed, it was the only place you had been able to freely be yourself and now it felt like it was about to be ripped out from right under your feet. Your instincts kicked into overdrive, you felt like a tiny mouse backed into a corner.

You should’ve payed closer attention to your other side. A heavy body suddenly had you being shoved to the ground, whining as you hit the ground.

Your mind whirled when you heard the clicking of metal, ice flowing through you as the sound of a gun being cocked next to you overrode your brain. Panicked eyes turned to see the cause, the barrel of a gun filling your vision and trapping you still. Stones and broken branches dug into your thighs but you couldn’t take your eyes off of the gun. Your entire body quivered when you shakily looked up to see a masked man.

You didn’t need to stand to know the Goliath of a man was easily double your size, your breathing was shaky. Your mind was entirely frozen. The sound of a camera going off behind you felt like a bullet as you quickly flipped yourself over to see another man, his mask seemed impossibly black with red eyes and a big frown stitched on. You whimpered and pushed yourself back only to feel stone cold metal pressing against your now exposed ass.

Your eyes never left the gun as he used it to push your skirt up further. “N-no.” Was all you could choke out with a whimper, drawing a chuckle from both of the men currently standing over you. Tears dripped from your eyes as you looked up at the man with a frown, his camera set on you as his friend used his gun to dig into your ass. He intently watched as the gun made indents in your ass, biting his lip under his mask as he teased you. The sight of you shaking beneath him, so easily accessible had nasty thoughts running through Masky’s mind.

You let out a scream when Hoodie suddenly darted forward, his leather clad hands gripped your wrists tight as he yanked you up. You begged and sobbed until Masky’s gun pressed into your cheek. “It’s cute hearing you beg like a good bitch.” Masky’s voice was incredibly gruff, sending warmth to you stomach that you cursed.

Hoodie tied your hands behind your back, as Masky slipped his gun into your mouth. You whined around the metal as you sobbed openly, Masky wasted no time sliding the metal into your throat. He watched you without blinking as he fucked your mouth with his gun, you struggled against the rope Hoodie had bound your arms with.

“Well, theres no point in hiding.” Masky smirked as he pulled his mask off, dropping it to the ground. He had a few piercings and tattooes covering his face, you would’ve found him attractive if he didn’t currently have a gun lodged down your throat. You hated it but you could feel your own cock twitching under your skirt. “Look how hard she is.” Masky’s tone was mocking as he pulled your skirt up, Hoodies rough hands grabbing your biceps hard enough to bruise to keep you still.

You tried to turn away but Hoodie’s hand was quick to wrap around your throat, keeping you pinned in place. “Ple-please don’t do this.” You sobbed out, feeling petals fall from your hair and down your shirt. “But you made yourself so easy for us.” Masky chuckled, dark eyes pinning you in place. Masky’s hands carefully listed your shirt, dragging his leather clad fingers against your skin. His free hand kept the gun pointed under your jaw, giving you no option but to submit to the men currently having their way with you.

You gasped when Masky’s finger began circling your nipple, arching back into Hoodies strong chest. They both towered over you, Hoodie using one hand to keep you pinned to his chest while his other played with your other nipple. Desperate whines flew from you, your cock leaking precum. The rough leather of the gloves sent sparks running up your spine, dizziness enveloping your mind. Suddenly Masky was putting his gun back into its holster, freeing up both of his hands to grab and tug at your flesh.

Your face burned with shame as you moaned, Masky pulled your shirt over your head, leaving your arms trapped. The tight material of the shirt pulled your shoulders back, causing your chest to push out. You felt unbelievably weak completely defenceless between the two men.

You wanted to plead again for them to stop, instead biting your lip as you knew it’d only spur them on. Masky was groping your chest, his fingers squeezing and pulling your nipples. Both men relished in the moans they forced from you, Masky had to take a moment to appreciate your fucked out expression, his hands gripping your cheeks. All you could do was stare up at him with teary eyes as he examined your face. Tears dripped down your cheeks and your hair was stuck to your face, flowers that once lay neatly in your hair were now torn and you were left with petals tangled into your locks.

“Atta boy.” Hoodie praised, hand rubbing your stomach as your body finally dropped in their hold, submitting. You knew you had no use in fighting, and it’d only hurt you in the end. The feeling of fingers sliding into your hole had you tensing back up, yelping loudly as two digits began roughly slamming into your virgin hole. It burned but his long, thick fingers easily found your prostate. He was set on slamming into it, your screams echoing through the forest. “A-ah fuh-fuck!” You elled as you came, body curling into itself as Hoodie forced you through an orgasm.

You fell into Masky’s chest sobbing, wailing louder when he pulled your ass apart, spreading you open and allowong Hoodies fingers to dig deeper into you. You choked on the drool flooding your mouth, eyes rolling as your body was assaulted with pleasure. Your fingers had never gotten this deep and it wasn’t long before your overstimulated cock was back standing at attention, Masky’s thigh wedged between your legs. Your cock scrapped against his rough jeans, leaving your breath stuttered as the scratchy material ran against your balls and thighs. Hoodie slipped another finger into you, barley wasting a breath before roughly fucking you with them. Your thighs squeezed around Masky’s, high pitched keens leaving you as Hoodie fucked into you hard enough with his fingers to push you harder against Masky’s thigh.

“Fuck the slut already.” Masky growled out, Hoodie chuckled as he pulled his fingers out roughly. The squeal that left you went straight to both of their cocks, surprised either of them had managed to hold off for so long.

Their patience had worn thin though and Hoodie wasted no time in burying his cock into you. You voice caught in your throat resulting in you choking, shaking on Masky’s chest as Hoodie bottomed out. He felt impossibly large, his cock stretching more then you every thought could be done. Masky pressed his lips against yours, tongue easily sliding into your dropped mouth. He wasted no time in lapping his tongue around your mouth, the taste of you driving him insane as he swallowed every whimper Hoodie fucked out of you.

“He can’t take both of us, look at him with just my cock. Bet you like it though, right slut?” Hoodie grunted the most depraved things into your ear, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel your drool soaking into Masky’s shirt. “Such a good little slut, letting me fuck your tight little pussy.” You tried to protest, Hoodies words embarrassing you yet twisting something deep inside.

Hoodie didn’t think he’d last longer with your ass clenched tight around his cock, every time he pulled out your body resisted, trying to pull him back in and it drove him insane. He railed into you hard, insistent on emptying hiss balls deep into your stomach. It almost felt painful, his cock brushed right against your prostate. Every drag of his cock had you crying out, arching your back.

You came again, broken sobs flying from your lips as your body turned to jello. Hoodie couldn’t take how tight you got around him, his own eyes rolling back as he shot his load straight into your stomach. You could feel it flowing into you, his cum causing your belly to bulge further. All you could do was sob as you looked at your swollen stomach, your cock twitching with pain after being dragged through multiple orgasms.

You barley had time to recover before Masky pulled you into his arms, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You should be able to take me now.” His words left you shaking, you could barley take what you had already been given. Masky moaned when he heard your high pitched please’s to stop. “Thats it baby boy, beg nice n good for me.” You felt trapped, anytime you tried to stop him it just seemed to invigorate him.

Masky seemed even rougher then Hoodie, slamming deep into you and bouncing you on his cock. Your loud wails and moans bounced back to you, leaving you certain anyone in a hundred mile radius would hear you moaning with overstimulation. Masky grunted loudly in your ear, biting down onto your neck and drawing blood as he roughly bounced you on his cock.

Hoodie pulled his camera back out, taking pictures of Masky railing into you like a ragdoll. His muscles bulged as he bounced you restlessly on his cock. You wondered if it’d ever be over. Masky’s large hands grasped your ass, bunching your skirt up at your waist. Hoodie got some nice pictures of his dear friends cock sliding deep into your hole, your panties pulled to the side to accommodate Masky’s cock.

Your arms were wrapped around Masky’s shoulders, sobbing into the crevice of his neck as he abused your hole. Masky fucked Hoodies cum out of you, it dripped in globs from your puffy hole. Hoodie moved closer, taking pictures and using two fingers to spread you open causing more of his cum to come dripping out.

Masky suddenly slammed deep into you, his cum flowing through you. You almost felt like you were going to be sick as you felt Masky blow his load into you.

You felt practically no shame in openly crying when Masky dropped you to the floor. He used his foot to shove you onto your stomach, using his boot to press into the flesh of your ass and spread your ass cheeks. He groaned at the sight of your abused hole, dripping blood and cum. He could hear Hoodie snapping up pictures, Masky grinned as he pulled out his knife and sliced through the rope. You couldn’t help the moan that left when you were finally freed, blood quickly rushing back to your hands. “Get up.” Masky had no patience, instead grabbing you up. “Spread yourself for the camera.” You tried to plead only to end up with a harsh smack to your ass. You whimpered and quickly turned around. “Wait.” Masky mumbled, pulling your panties down to rest under your ass. He pushed to fingers into you and you sobbed loudly, the sound of Hoodie’s camera going off being blocked from your mind.

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kiestrokes · 7 months

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i like had this thought in the back of my head of like what ateez would be like with an S/O who has a physical illness bcs i actually have one which causes a lot of pain to my bones and i'm like in a constant state of pain and discomfort, been going on for about 12 years HELL YA ✊🏻, if i don't keep up on my meds (currently don't have the proper meds so it only tides me over for a little while-) then im basically fucked so IDK i feel like there isn't a lot of stuff written about this kind of stuff (im a sucker for shit i hardly ever am able to read abt) ALSO IM NOT 100% SURE IF YOUR REQS WERE OPEN BCS I DIDNT SEE ANYTHING POSTED ABT IT SO- YA- if you don't want to write it obviously you don't have to !! no pressure at all lovely

ATEEZ Caring for You: Chronic Illness Edition | SFW

Pairing: ATEEZ x Gender Neutral!Reader/You/Yn Rating: SFW Genre: fluff, slice of life, headcanons, imagines, scenarios. Warnings: chronic illness + immunocompromised talk.

🗝️ Note: Hey atiny anon! You actually asked the right person; I have fibromyalgia combined with a few other annoying chronic illnesses. Because you can't just have one 😓 I hope that you can find a decent fucking doctor and get on the proper medication soon. That's the biggest part of the struggle, finding a physician that will listen and is competent enough. I hope this was enough, I tried to assign each member a caring task that I felt fit them! Has not been beta-ed.

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted below.

Seonghwa

He’s here to help you prevent all the chronic pain that he can. Booking you massage visits. Trips to the hot springs. All the arnica rubs. Silly little games the two of you play, to keep your mind off the pain and depression spirals. His favorite is seeing who can build their new Lego set the quickest. Hwa is the biggest advocate for you, he would never return a dish at the restaurant when its wrong. But he will fight for you at every appointment, every pharmacy, wherever you need him to. Because he knows you've grown tired of fighting all the time.

Hongjoong

HJ's specialty is flexibility. You have a sudden burst of energy? He’s down to go explore that new pop-up market with you. You’ve come down with a bout of bone numbing pain? That’s cool, you’re getting changed into comfy clothes and piled up on the couch. Swaddled in your heating pad with all the snacks. Where he falls asleep on your shoulder. HJ never gets frustrated with your rapid change in mood or plans. Nothing but the most understanding partner you could ever have asked for, and boy is he so cute and snuggly when dozing on you. Small hands seeking your face for drowsy kisses that soothe your aches just a smidge.

Yunho

The quiet presence, the one who knows what you need before you say it. Passing you tissues, making you a cup of tea and most importantly holding you so that you can cry. Shedding angry tears about how frustrated you are with your own body for betraying you. For feeling weak. For missing out on things. He's gently calming every frayed nerve in your brain. Reassuring you that you're exactly where you need to be in this moment, and he will bring all of the fun to you. And he does, in small, manageable doses.

Yeosang

His way of caring for you is through caring for your outside. All the skin masks, hair treatments, skin softening lotions because if you feel cruddy, at least he can make you feel cute and comfortable. They do heal though, in their own way. The extra moisture of the humidifier and every cream and essence he buffs into your skin helps keep some of the aches away. Subsiding the itchiness of the nerve pain, just a little. And you can’t get over how cute Yeosang looks in each animal themed headband or with his hair tied back into teeny space buns or how nice his hands feel every time they glide over your skin.

San

Where Yunho is quietly attentive, San is passionately attentive. You cry, he cries (while holding you). Quite literally your pain, is his pain and he’s here to be with you through each step. No judgment is ever passed when he has to pick up your extra chores around the house. Because to him, that is the smallest act of service he can perform for you. San is the one who wishes he could take on your pain, that he could fight it and destroy it and it pains him that he cannot. So he will simply have to do everything else.

Mingi

He thrives on making you laugh and smile through tough days, because he understands feeling burdensome. Mingi never wants you to feel that way, he wants to make sure you verbally know that your presence is needed and welcome. His favorite thing is cuddled up in bed with you wrapped in your heated blanket watching shows. You looking so small in his arms, giving him the feeling of protecting something. He reassures you constantly, because he himself seeks constant reassurance. Mingi never tires of this, he will reaffirm every single self deprecating thought with a compliment even on his worst days.

Wooyoung

He cares for you with his skinship, which is incredibly healing. His happy heartbeat encourages yours. His strong hands make you feel loved and needed. Who would cuddle him if not you? Woo often reminds you, whispering the phrase into your ear as he traces his nails through your hair, or while rhythmically drawing circles on your spine. Making you float into dream land and anchoring you in the moment with him at the same time. Woo also loves making you whatever dish you’re craving, knowing you need energy to fight off fatigue and pain. And cooking is one of his many, many love languages.

Jongho

Needing to hoard all the extra rest you can get; you seek out solace at Jongho’s place for nap time. Jongho has taken notice, he’s also taken inventory as to which blankets of his you prefer, the pillows that keep you asleep the longest, what temperature you prefer the room to be based on what you’re wearing. All your favorite snacks before or after. New blackout curtains. He’s made his place your ultimate nap zone. New heated blankets. Duplicates of your fave lounge wear and socks. And he takes his payment in cuddles. Holding you tightly in his bed or sprawled on the couch. Sometimes he falls asleep himself and flips you onto your back to bury into your side like a full-sized teddy bear.

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gowonminajxx · 10 months

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⎯ fanged jealousy﹑

﹔a miguel o'hara + gn!reader fic :: a 2 part fic

﹔requested by a friend of mine on discord ^_^ for their direct request: ﹑"miguel is jealous bc the reader was talking to another spider person (punishment type shit)" . . .

﹔pre a/n :: ahhh the miguel brain rot continues! i hope you all enjoyed my last fic (which im coming out w a part 2 sooner or later.. this is just a feast for in between). thank u to my discord bff for requesting this cuz this is kinda like a toe curling concept sooo ily !!

﹔CWs :: swearing, physical action, miguel whining cuz he’s jelly ☠️

for the past year or so, you have been your world's one and only spider-person. thwipping webs all around the city, you would save lives on a daily -- that is, until you got caught up with work at the spider society headquarters on earth-928.

miguel o'hara, formerly known as spiderman 2099, would assign you the shortest missions ever, making you get bored every second you punched a villain's guts out on some random universe you never thought existed.

miguel and you weren't that close. you could call each other friends, but never the type to say that you could trust each other. the only thing you knew about him was that he was some sort of leader of this whole society. he didn't think anything of you at first, and never showed any care or praise about you, until now.

you had just finished your mission on one of the earths, and he had asked you to help out margo, formerly known as spider-byte to everyone else, with some research thing. you weren't quite paying attention, and your eyes practically drifted off to the screens behind him, showcasing some child crawling all over him.

on the way over to spider-byte's 'lair' — which you called it that, considering she's there all the time, as if it's a dungeon — you seemed to bump into one of the spidermen passing by. tall, built, slightly thin. his mask covered his face, but he seemed to unmask himself just for you, to speak to you face to face.

the two of you spoke for about ten minutes in the middle of the hallway, talking about miguel, missions, how strict he is, and other things that involved your jobs. you found yourself bonding with him a lot more than you expected.

after the conversation, you said your formal goodbyes to each other and walked out without another word. he gave you a soft smile every now and then, which made you smile back a little. no idea who he was, but he was a little cuter than you thought he'd be. you were on your way to spider-byte's lair now.

the day was practically almost over, and just as you were about to go back to your dimension to check up on some things, your watch beeped, a holographic image of miguel showing up. he had his mask off, and he looked rather angry as he spoke, trying to keep his tone under calm management.

"y/n. you went to go see spider-byte, right?" he facepalmed, sounding a little tired — yet annoyed -- as his words were low and felt rusty. you nodded, letting out a little 'yeah' as his head lifted up.

"could you see me in my office for just a moment?" his voice strained on the last bit, emphasizing as his teeth gritted. you flinched a little, your agreeable smile turning into a fearful frown. you shakily nodded your head before heading over.

as you arrived, he was still at his screens, working like the usual workaholic he was. he looked a little tired, bags underneath his eyes — which there usually was dark circles, but not this bad. he was exhausted. exhausted from something.

your eyebrow rose as his triangular shaped platform lowered, his stance straightening as he turned around to look at you. he wiped his face, scowling.

"miguel, you wanted to see me s-"

before you could even finish a complete sentence to him, miguel threw a nearby metal table at you, causing you to dodge it once your senses started tingling, the hairs on the back of your neck raising. you gawked at his sudden violence, before he started stomping towards you, a low grunt escaping his mouth.

"you got all distracted by some kid in the hallway, huh?" he groaned into his words, towering over you as your feet instantly stepped back as a natural reaction. you cowered beneath him, before trying to maintain your posture against the superhero.

"no.. i was just talking to him for a couple minutes. how do you.. how do you know this?" you tried to keep your words steady, but kept trembling, as your hands shook, ready to defend yourself. he stared at you angrily, frowning.

miguel let out an exaggerated sigh. "i had called spider-byte, and she told me that she heard you and some man in the hallway having a chatter fest." miguel strengthened, pointing an accusatory finger at you while you stepped further back. "didn't tell me what you two were talking about.. which is not to my surprise.." he quickly added, his voice trailing off.

"sir, it was just a quick conversation, no harm was intended." your chest was just a little over your knees as you nervously smiled at him, trying to make light of the situation — the tense one. miguel let out a low chuckle in response, mockingly.

"a quick conversation." he smiled, rubbing his temples. "i'll have a quick conversation. but a quick conversation before something important i've assigned you?" he held up his arms beside him, his arm muscles shining in the blue light behind him, while the rest of his body looked and felt like a tall silhouette. his head leaned into yours, like some sort of angry chicken.

you bursted. "why do you care? are you jealous or something?" your strained voice yelling audibly at him, echoing throughout the whole room.

— shit.

he stood there in silence, his eyes drifting off to the side almost as if he was thinking of something. miguel's head nodded at his own perverted and aggressive ideas, almost physical ideas. thousands of thoughts ran through your head all at once, your body freezing as there was traffic in your head. a feeling of regret surged through you as he just stood there in silence.

miguel suddenly opened his mouth to speak lowly. "jealous." he blurted.

"jealous of what?" he let out a sinister chuckle, backing you up into the wall slowly. he looked absolutely crazy in the moment, his hair a little ruffed up, dark eye circles, it all came together just to make you tremble underneath him. his hands gripped onto your shoulders before speaking again.

"what would i be jealous of, y/n?" his low voice sent chills down your spine. fear creeped up your covered back as his head towered over yours, getting closer and closer to your neck every second, his fangs revealing. miguel's hot breath tingled against your skin as he got closer, and you could feel the long fangs he had out, his hunger overrunning any thoughts in his head.

you did this to yourself.

a/n :: IM SO SORRY BUT THIS WAS JS TOO GOOD OF A CLIFFHANGER. i hate to leave yall sad like this but it was the perfect moment for the cliffhanger i promise i'll get to work on a part 2 😭 THIS IS MY LAST CLIFFHANGER PIECE I SWEAR. ITS JS TEW GOOD TO WRITE CLIFFHANGERS.

#miumiulicious #atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv smut #miguel o’hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099 spiderverse

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lululandd · 6 months

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pretence;

pairing: simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

word count: 1,111

warnings: you’re kortac and also ghost’s ex, fluff

notes: written with my oc’s wholeass background in mind so idk if this will make that much sense (im too shy to ask someone to beta)

summary:

You know that sweet precipice right between being awake and falling asleep? That’s where you happily were before rudely disturbed by a knock on your door. With a groan and a grumble, you gingerly sat up on the 141 base’s creaky bed ready to greet whoever it is on the other side with a glare.

It was Simon.

“What?” A sore remembrance fills your heart and you unconsciously clench your jaw.

There was almost an apologetic look in his eyes when you stared up at him, “Wanted to check up on your arm.”

“It’s fine, Simon.” you vaguely gestured around you, “There’s like two hundred people here. If I speak a little louder, Roze is next door ready to help, or re-break my arm, depending on why I made a ruckus.”

You see him subtly shift his weight from one leg to the other, “What’s wrong with you? Can’t sleep?” When he didn't reply, you asked him with a resigned sigh, “Do you wanna come in?”

He side-stepped inside the moment you opened the door a little wider. You see him clench and unclench his fist reflexively inside his jacket pocket, apprehension emanating from his being as if he had done something wrong and is afraid of oncoming consequences.

Seeing him in such distress annoyed you a little bit. He was still the same man you dated ages ago, with the same mannerisms and same behaviour. The same Simon Riley who broke up with you out of the blue with a single post-it note and a dead phone number. As much as that broke your heart and trust in him—and anyone else that came after—it would be a lie if you said you don't have some lingering feelings towards him.

“Allright, bend over.” You instructed.

When he bent over with face away and his ass facing towards you, you couldn’t help but suppress a laugh. “The other way, idiot.”

He straightened his back, turned around, then bent at the hips and knees, making his face somewhat level to yours. You can see the fine lines on the outer corners of his eyes along with the sun-damage where his mask doesn’t cover his face.

A small little peck wouldn’t hurt, would it? The evil little part of your brain assures you that this is completely normal and you’re just helping him feel better so he can sleep.

Feeling you kiss his mask, he stood back up and removed it startlingly quick, making you jump back a little. He shoved the mask in his pocket before fixing his hair, shuffling it around, making it look a little more decent.

Moving slightly to his side as he lowered himself, you lift your hand and gently cradle the far side of his cheek before landing a soft kiss on his temple, his crooked nose, the corner of his mouth, and finally where his dimple would be if he smiled.

It showed itself as he actually did smile, first towards the wall in front of him, then towards you. “That it? Remember getting more back then.”

You tapped his cheek lightly, “Uh huh.”

He looked around your room as he stood up, his knees not so subtly cracking as he did. “Aight. Just making sure you’re fine.”

The man was always like this. You knew if he did something remotely affectionate, he had mulled over the action for hours, if not days. Simon cares about a lot of people, but he has learnt from years of experience it’s much easier for him to care from afar. Looking up records to see how people progress, eavesdropping conversations, pretending to be at the medic building the same time as the people he wanted to check up on, but if he comes up to someone personally it means he didn’t get the answer he sought for and nothing he previously did alleviates the worry and concern.

Studying his bare face, you saw something that made you want to laugh again, so you dragged him to the little cubicle of a bathroom and stood him in front of the sink with you next to him. The mirror was at a completely wrong height for him so he had to bend and brace himself on the small sink. The tight space could barely fit you both.

“Do you see it?” You started, smiling ear to ear as you looked at him from the mirror.

Simon stared at himself, then at you in the mirror, the actual you, and then back at himself. “All I’m seeing is self restraint to not pin you to the sink right now.”

You groaned at that, but tried to keep focus. “Your face has three shades.“ you pointed at the obvious discoloration around his eyes, “ There’s the tan not covered by the balaclava,” then you pointed at the more subtle tanned blend around his mouth up to his cheeks, and the tip of his nose. “The part not covered by the skull mask, and then the skull shaped part that’s safe from all the sun. Do you see?”

His eyes widened when he finally caught on to what you said and scrambled closer to the mirror, prodding his face. “Bloody fucking hell, I look like a fucking muppet.”

“You know, since it’s already tanned in the shape of a skull…You could use it as a base for a face tattoo.” It was now his turn to glare at you, so you continued, “Wouldn’t it be really funny if one day you get unmasked by an enemy and then they just see another skull?”

He was about to retort when he stopped himself as he saw you try to hide a yawn.

“Get some sleep, lov—“ He stopped mid word as he caught himself. “I mean, yeah you need some sleep.”

You nodded, feeling his hand on your lower back as he guided you out of the shower brought you back to that distant feeling of safety and security that was always present when you’re around him. Maybe he wants another chance, maybe he really was just worried about your broken arm, but you won’t know if you don’t do anything about it.

“Goodnight, Simon.” Twisting away from his hold, you faced him and raised your good arm and leaned in for a hug.

It came as a surprise when he stepped back and held you a little way away from him. “Don’t. It’ll put pressure on your arm.”

“How about you start worrying when we get home and it’s just the two of us?”

“What?”

“You’re gonna take care of me once you’re on leave right? Make sure I don’t go hugging people or sleep on my side or accidentally bang my bad elbow on the edge of a very sharp kitchen counter.”

“You’re fucking evil.”

Despite the acid bite in his tone, he showed up at your door two weeks later, both arms gingerly wrapped around your back, enveloping you in a gentle hug.

#call of duty #call of duty imagines #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #scuffed writing

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wannaeatramyeon · 9 months

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Meeting Ryuhei Kuroda for the first time

Leans F!Reader. You, new in 2A. Pre-relationship.

"Why don't you pester Y/N instead? They seem like your type."

Mitsuki continues flipping through the pages of new candidates for the game. It seems promising this time. Enough range to satisfy the VIPs.

"But Mitsuki, you're my type and I'm your type." Ryuhei pouts and whines, a daily routine he has adopted, "When are you going to admit that to yourself?"

"No." She peers over at him, face cold and dismissive, "You're not."

"Ouch, that hurt!"

What was that saying again, treat them mean and keep them keen? Would it work on Mitsuki? Ryuhei contemplates this, striding along the corridors and scratching idly at his chin.

Maybe you could be the pawn in his game. Just until Mitsuki realises that he's perfect for her.

He recalls your face during your first day. Body bowing at a ninety degree angle. Perfect with your formalities and show of respect, no one can deny that. But he and he alone saw your smug, condescending smile as you looked up at him like a challenge.

What was that supposed to mean? Ryuhei isn't sure he's met you before, he tends to not forget a face as striking as yours or such a look of defiance.

And what exactly did Mitsuki mean by you being his type?

"Hey," Ryuhei leans against the doorway of your office, mask off, playful grin on his lips.

You take one look at him and return back to your task.

"What are you doing after work tonight-"

"I don't think so, Nomen."

Damn. This is a dagger to his heart, rejected by two women in one day.

"Y/N," he grumbles, "You don't even know what I was going to say. As you're new here, maybe I was trying to be generous and show you the ropes. Have you thought about that?"

"Ryuhei," If this guy is going to drop his professional conduct, so would you. "I know your type. It's not going to work on Neko and it's not going to work on me. You're pathetic."

Ah, there's that smile of yours again.

Who's pathetic?!

It's bad enough that Mitsuki thinks that.... and that's understandable. But Ryuhei has absolutely no grievances with you.

Fuck. He angrily adjusts his pillow, hoping to take out some of his frustrations, allowing his temper to simmer down and for his brain to stop buzzing.

It doesn't work.

As he lies awake, he realises he can't remember the last time he thought about anyone else's opinion other than Mitsuki's.

"Didn't sleep well?"

Ryuhei sips his coffee, narrowing his bloodshot eyes over the top of his cup and flips you off with his other hand.

"Nomen," strutting over, your hand covers his middle finger and pushes it back down, "Behave please, we're at work."

You turn on your heel, flicking your hair in his face and purposely knocking at his coffee.

His grip loosens.

The cup, still nearly full, falls. Brown liquid spills down his suit, staining his white shirt and mustard tie.

"Oops, sorry!" You smile, baring your fangs and blowing him a patronising kiss.

Ryuhei should be annoyed, should be bristling and hostile.

But, the kiss lands and embeds itself in his mind.

#lookism #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism x reader #lookism fic #ryuhei kuroda #ryuhei kuroda x reader #ryuhei x reader #wannaeatramyeon #begone from my thoughts you foul sex pest man #stop this #god hes so fucking pathetic (affectionately)

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fixfoxnox · 2 months

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These Bones Are Broken

Summary: Roach nearly loses someone he cares about and it causes a break in his mask.

Warnings: Panic Attacks, Skin Picking, Hair Pulling, Mental Break, Discussions of torture

Note: A comm from the wonderful @theunbitten thank you <3

Roach was something of a statue. That's what Soap said, at least.

He was quiet and he was focused. A beast with a single-minded determination to his cause. Nothing seemed to bother him, nothing ever distracted him from the end goal. It was as impressive as it was intimidating.

Soap and Gaz had witnessed him unflinchingly torturing men, sparking the pieces of a car battery together in preparation for getting information on their next target. They'd watched him mow down waves of enemies without ever wavering. No exhaustion, no fear, no nothing. He was a statue.

At times, Soap found himself tempted to say Roach didn't feel anything at all. He was a robot or couldn't feel pain or something equally as terrifying. He thought Roach was incapable of anything except for his focus and his work. He knew he was wrong, even if it was hard to believe at times.

He'd seen Roach's emotions in little tics. The twitching of his eyebrow or the slight curve of his lips. The way his voice would waver with anger and grow stronger in victory. Roach hid well. He hid all of those emotions that he had with so much skill. Soap knew better, though. He was smarter when it came to emotions than anyone gave him credit for. He could see right through Roach's walls.

Sometimes, it was difficult. He would question himself as he watched Roach blow a man's brains out right in front of his family. He wondered if he was seeing things that weren't there as Roach flayed a man alive, desperate for information.

He knew he wasn't imagining things, though. It was just hard to see. It was hard to see because Roach never broke.

Roach gave an annoyed huff through the mask covering the bottom of his face, the puff of heat warming his face for only a short moment. The little huff was the first bit of emotion he'd managed to give since he'd stepped outside to meet Soap and Gaz.

The two were finally back from what was meant to be a short recon mission. Roach could only assume it had turned to shit, considering he'd lost comms with the two about an hour into the job. It was enough of a shock that he'd nearly had a panic attack the moment the comms went out.

He'd spent an hour pacing around their little base of operations. He kept tugging at his hair and picking at his nails, forcing himself not to move from the room he was in. He knew if he did, he'd immediately make his way out to the van in the garage and try to stage a rescue operation. He hadn't even known if the two needed rescuing.

His mind, of course, had spiraled. He couldn't help but think of his first life, of that mission where they'd been separated and the comms had been shit. He'd spent his time panicking over it, thinking of what could have happened after smoke and fire filled his lungs and choked the life from his chest.

He'd run through every scenario. Shepherd's men turning on Soap and Price, gunning them down as they tried desperately to escape the mess they'd been led into. One of the two sacrificing themself for the other, running into the battle as a distraction so at least one of them could get away.

He knew it would have been Price to do so. He hadn't known the man for long, but he knew him well enough to know that Soap was like a son to him and he wasn't going to risk losing him. From what Soap shared with him in that first life, he knew it was because the man hadn't been able to protect Gaz. He knew he wouldn't be likely to make the same mistake with Soap.

He knew Soap though, much better than he knew Price. He knew Soap wasn’t the type to let that happen so easily. He wasn't the type to let people sacrifice themselves for him. He already felt guilty enough about the deaths he had no control over. Roach couldn't see Soap allowing Price to even think of doing something like that.

On occasion, he let himself dream that maybe the two made it out alive. Maybe there was some sort of kindness in the universe and only he and Simon were killed that day. Maybe only they had faced the sting of betrayal and the pain of a bullet.

He couldn't let himself have even that. He knew that even if the two had survived, even if they'd somehow managed to stop Shepherd, they would have been fugitives. They would be on the run and, knowing them, they wouldn't give up on the mission. They'd keep chasing Makarov until they killed him or he finally killed them. No matter what, he knew they likely hadn’t made it out alive.

The thoughts never helped him in moments like this. His entire goal had been to stop anything like what happened in the first life from ever happening again. He wouldn't let anyone he cared about be hurt, ever again. Not when he’d been given an opportunity to stop it.

He'd been brought violently back to himself by another tug at his hair, this one much harsher. He hadn't even realized how tight he'd made his grip or how much he was yanking. Not until he pulled his hand back and looked down at the clump of hair laid in his palm.

He'd stared at it for a long moment, scrutinizing the little tuft and the way his hand shook around it. It was ridiculous. He was behaving poorly, letting his feelings run wild. He couldn't do that, not now, not when he had such an important mission to focus on.

He'd clenched his jaw in a flash of anger. His teeth gave a painful protest as he grinded them together, taking a long careful moment to come back to himself. He didn't have time for any of this, he needed to try to get communication with the two men back up, to find out what happened and where the two were. If they needed help.

It was a short walk over to a trash so he could let the hair fall freely from his hand, out of sight and out of mind. He relaxed his jaw and let his face fall into something more neutral, something more blank. No one was around to see, there was no reason for it. But, he knew, he knew that if he didn't do something to hide how he was really feeling at that moment, it would be hard to hide it all later, when he needed to.

He'd managed to finally get comms back up after another thirty minutes. He only allowed himself a small sigh of relief when both of the men confirmed they were okay and were in their transport. According to them, things had gone tits up.

It wasn't until they'd arrived that Roach got a proper answer about what happened.

“You're both alright?” Roach gave them both a quick once over, noting a few new scratches and bruises, but nothing that seemed too bad. His eyes traced over Soap's body in particular, checking him for anything that might indicate he needed immediate medical attention. He knew he wouldn't be able to calm himself until his eyes had their fill. The most he'd noticed was the curious way that Soap was standing, clearly favoring one side over the other.

Roach narrowed his eyes at the man and opened his mouth to question him, he was beaten to it by the man himself, his voice just a bit strained. Just enough for Roach to notice.

“We're fine, nothing that we couldn't handle.” He gave Roach a toothy grin and Roach noted with careful eyes that his lip was split. “Just ran into a bit of trouble, these guys were a bit more wiley than we'd expected.”

“And what exactly happened?” He tilted his head at the two men, allowing his eyes to temporarily move away from Soap and over to Gaz. He gave the man a quick once over as well and was satisfied to see that the man appeared to be in much better shape than Soap. That was good, at least he could be certain Gaz was okay.

The two men glanced at one another for a moment and that alone was enough to tell Roach that something had gone horribly wrong. Or, at least wrong enough that the two were concerned about it.

“They knew we were there.”

“What?”

Roach could see both of them hesitate, it was Gaz who finally spoke up. “We don't know how, all we know is one second we were just watching, the next second our comms were down and we were in a gunfight.” He motioned toward Soap quickly, “We only managed to get comms back because this one literally tripped over the jammers they were using.”

“Jammers,” Roach did his best not to clench his jaw again, “they knew we were coming.” He crossed his arms over his chest and tried to think of how it could be possible the men knew they were coming. The best he could come up with was some sort of security breach.

They’d been making waves in terrorist circles recently. It was one thing when one person turned up dead, it was another thing entirely when several high-up people in those circles turned up dead. He knew they'd been getting some attention, he just hadn't thought anyone would actually be able to find them.

“It's good the two of you got out.” He resisted the urge to run a tired hand over his face, “If you were compromised, it means we need to pull back a bit. We're being too obvious. Our target can wait.”

The two men glanced at each other again and shifted a bit, as though they were nervous. Roach narrowed his eyes at the two and his eyes drifted back to Soap in particular. Did the man look paler than usual?

“About that,” Soap croaked out, “uh, well, Gaz should explain.” His voice sounded weak and Roach noted with concern that he seemed more tired than he had moments ago. He pushed it down for the moment and turned his attention to Gaz with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, uh, we had an opportunity,” he cleared his throat and glanced at Soap again, “when all the chaos was happening, I guess they decided to try and move the target out. Soap and I happened across their path. And…”

Roach waited for him to continue, but Gaz only shifted nervously again. He gave him another moment of silence before pressing, “And? You ignored them, right? Kept going to the transport?” He paused for a moment, observing the two's guilty faces with rising panic, “Tell me the two of you did not try to take on an entire convoy of men by yourselves.”

The resulting wince from Gaz was answer enough. Roach had to fight down the wave of panic at the thought. He'd been here, safe inside while Gaz and Soap were fighting an entire convoy of men by themselves. All it would have taken was one misstep, one misstep and one of them would have been gone. Dead, and this time their blood would have been on his hands.

He was panicked at the thought and that alone was enough to fill his voice with a shaking rage as he spoke.

“What in God's name made you think that was a good idea?” He paused for a moment, taking in a slow breath to try and help the shaking of his voice. “Do you understand how fucking stupid that was? How easily one of you could have fucking died?” His voice rose slowly, “And where would that leave us? With your blood splattered in the fucking snow and no information to go off of. A meaningless sacrifice.”

He nearly spit the words between them, his heart pounding in his chest. He was harsher than he meant to be, and he didn't realize until they'd already escaped his mouth that it sounded as though he didn't care for the fate of the two men in front of him. They wouldn't know that he was angry and panicked because of how much he cared for them.

“We did get something,” Soap protested. Roach looked over to him and took a reactive step forward. Soap looked as though he was going to collapse. “Show him, Gaz.”

Roach's attention was stolen away from Soap for just a moment, just long enough to watch Gaz turn around and make his way to the van the two men had taken on their mission. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as Gaz unlocked the back doors of the van and turned to give him a quick look. He was nervous.

Roach wasn't sure what he was expecting when the man opened the door to the back of the van. He didn't know if he thought perhaps they'd managed to snatch some data or a computer system or something. What he did know, was that he hadn't expected the door to open and reveal the very target the two men had been watching, now bound and gagged in the back of the van. They'd managed to take him.

It was only with a great deal of self-control that he managed to keep his mouth from gaping open like a fish. This was much better than any computer or intel and, though he was still pissed that the two men had done something so stupid, he couldn't help but be pleased they'd at least gotten something out of it.

“See,” Soap's voice was smug, even around the clear strain, “it wasn't for nothing.” Roach turned back to him, prepared to say something about how even if they got something it was still too dangerous. Then he saw Soap sway and the blood he wasn't able to hide anymore as it finally soaked through the layers of his jacket and sweater. “It was worth it.”

Soap gave one last sway before his eyes rolled back and his legs gave out underneath him.

Roach hadn't left Soap's side since he'd been patched up.

It had been a rush job, quick work between him and Gaz to get the other man inside and onto a bed so they could look over his wound. It was pure luck that the bullet hadn't hit anything important. Any further either way and Roach doubted he would have been able to stop the bleeding and get the wound patched up properly.

He was lucky they were able to close the wound with staples. His hands were shaking far too much for stitches. If Gaz had noticed the way he was shaking as he cleaned blood from Soap's chest, he didn't say anything, a fairly wise choice on his part.

Roach, for what it was worth, had managed to stay relatively calm while he waited to see if Soap would wake up. Though, he knew that perhaps calm hadn't been the right word. There was no part of him that was calm, but his mind had shut itself down and retreated into a hazy cloud of nothing.

He didn't feel like he was able to think, everything was so foggy and thick around him that he had trouble believing that anything was real. He just felt…wrong. Like he was just going through the motions, not really living, just existing. All while he waited patiently by Soap's bed, checking his vitals and making sure he was getting enough fluids through the IV drip.

Gaz had offered to take over for him several times. To allow him a break so he could sleep or eat or something. Roach had denied him. He wasn't hungry and he wasn't tired, he just was. He existed only to sit and make sure Soap didn’t die on that bed. That he made it through the night like he was meant to.

There were a few hours, every now and then, when Gaz came and sat with him. He never tried to say anything, he just watched Roach and watched Soap. Roach was sure his own thoughts and worries were weighing on him enough, it was good he didn't try to take on Roach’s as well.

Soap, luckily, didn't take long to wake up. It was two days before he finally stirred, rising from his forced slumber as Gaz and Roach were sitting at his bedside. He'd come to with a slow groan, mumbles about how hungry he was slipping past his lips before he'd even opened his eyes.

Roach managed a sigh of relief as Gaz snorted, “Course you'd only be thinking about food after almost dying.” The words were spoken with a bit of laughter and poorly hidden fondness, but after days of nothing they finally broke through Roach's cloudy mind to send a spike of dread down his spine. “Here, I've had some crackers ready for when you'd get up.”

Roach sat quietly, watching to make sure Soap didn't choke on the little bit of food they were going to start him out with. The man practically scarfed the crackers down, making it clear that it had been a good idea to only give him a bit of food at first. It hadn't stopped him from complaining and begging for more. Gaz turned him down without a second thought.

There was a bit of silence for several long moments, Roach needed to allow Soap to get his bearings before he said or did anything else. So, it wasn't until after he’d watched the other man take several long sips from a glass of water and hold a small conversation with Gaz that he stood.

The movement caught the attention of both men, their eyes turning to follow him. Roach stood still for a long moment, trying to find the right words. His hands clenched into a fist at his side before relaxing again. He repeated the movement another few times before Soap finally asked, “Roach?”

“What you did was stupid.” There was silence, Soap looked away from him. “Don't do it again. And next time you get shot, tell us instead of waiting until you pass out. You understand?”

Soap gave a slow nod, guilt painting his features. “Understood.”

Another moment passed before Roach turned away from the two men and started toward the door of the little room they were in. He paused in the entryway, his hand gripping the doorframe as though it was a lifeline. He took a moment to breathe before he looked over his shoulder and offered a simple, “I'm glad you're alright.”

He didn't wait any longer before leaving the room and beginning a slow walk toward their little holding cell. He thought now would be the time to try and get some information out of their prisoner. Now that he knew Soap was safe. Now that he knew Soap wasn't going to die. Now that…

The fog that had been lying over him for the past few days seemed to dissipate, rising into his head to gather and gather into a pool of pain and anger and so many emotions he'd refused to acknowledge for the longest time.

He kept walking forward, pushing his feet to move even as every step felt heavier than the last. He kept moving, it was what he'd been doing for his entire life, there was no reason he couldn't do it now.

His breathing grew labored, his vision seemed to blur. He couldn't understand why. Why couldn't he see properly? He paused then, placing a hand on the wall next to him for support as the gathered fog in his head threatened to expand outward. His chest felt heavy, as though it was going to collapse inward. A part of him felt that his ribs had already given, had already punctured his lungs, and were slowly stealing the air from him, just as the fire and smoke had.

There was something wet on his face. He brought a hand up slowly, touching his cheek and pulling his hand away slow enough that he could see the tear caught on his finger. Another slipped down his cheek. Then another and another and another and another and-

A sob ripped its way from Roach's throat, so overwhelmingly powerful that he was sent hunching over. His hand found his chest, touching the skin to try and calm his heart. It was going to beat out of his chest, the painful thudding he could feel from his throat to his stomach made him sure of it. He thought for a moment he was going to puke with the pain it brought him.

Air struggled to pull through his throat as he sobbed. A painful cry that would only cease for a split second, long enough for him to take a drag of air that pained his throat with how sharp it was. It was all painful. It was all pain, all of it.

From his head to his chest to the very tips of his fingers and his toes, he was overwhelmed with the pain. A never-ending thing, worse than anything physical he'd been forced to endure. He'd been burned alive, shot, choked to death on thick smoke and none of it was as strong as this. None of it hurt so much as this pain.

Soap could have died.

Everything Roach had done, everything he did now, it was all to make a better life. A world away from the danger and the torment they’d all been forced to endure when they'd lived for the first time. And yet, he'd almost lost Soap to it.

He'd allowed Soap to become a part of his group, a part of his team to stop those fuckers who'd ruined him and everything he loved. In doing so he'd endangered one of the people he cared about most. He'd risked one of the only things he knew that he could gain back from that first life.

He was disgusted with himself. How could he have allowed that? He had Soap, he only had Soap. He didn't know if Ghost had been born again, if he'd died already, if he was too fucking late to do anything because he was worthless and slow and-

Another breath of air choked his lungs. He reached, with tears blocking his vision and pain in every move he made, not for help, but for a little cord around his neck. For the comfort of three rings he'd designed himself. For the comfort and the reminder of why he did this. Of why he would continue to do what was needed.

There were men out there who wanted to take everything from him. Who wanted to kill and hurt and torture him. To ruin him. And Roach knew, beyond anything, that he wouldn't let that happen. The only answer was to find them first. To burn them before they burned him.

As suddenly as he started, he stopped.

He stood, his face wiped of all emotion. He didn't bother clearing the tears or their stains from his face. He just started forward again. His footsteps still felt heavy, his chest still hurt, his head was so full he was sure it was going to burst. He kept moving forward. He didn't look back, not in the direction he knew Soap and Gaz were, not to the past, not to anything. He stared forward, his face stoic.

As he neared the room where their prisoner was, he pulled a knife from his belt. There was no show with it. He didn't twirl it around in his hand or admire the shine. The blade gave him no pleasure. It was a tool, a tool he didn't look twice at. He didn't have time. He kept moving forward, pushing the door open and observing the weakened man in front of him.

He moved forward. There was work to be done.

#gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #soaproach #ghostroach #ghostroachsoap #angst #cod mw #call of duty #call of duty mw2

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