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gglitch1dd · 21 days

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Hiya glitch! Just out of curiosity, in a completely dif timeline if Katsuki hadn’t cheated in the first place, would y/n and him ended up at least having a family in the future as well? If so about how many kids do you think they would have had if they considered it?

Also since you head canon Izuku to have only boys and Eiji only girls, what’s your headcanon for Kats? :0

Hey lovey!! In a different timeline where Katsuki hadn't cheated, I do think reader and him would end up pretty happy together. There's no sign showing that they wouldn't. I do think Katsuki would have more girls than boys though. His life would go a bit like this:

DILF Katsuki's Perfect Ending

DILF Bakugou Katsuki x Wifey Reader

Katsuki sat up with a gasp, clutching his heart. He sat in bed his crimson eyes wide in fear as his heart beat a million miles an hour. He noticed you shift next to him, turning to look up at him confused, your eyes still clouded with sleep. Katsuki looked at the window noticing the few strands of morning light seeping in. He saw you saying something but he couldn’t hear what you said. He grabbed his hearing aids from their charging doc and put them in his ears.

At sound returning to his world, he took a deep breath.

“Katsuki?” You placed a hand on his arm as you slowly sat up in bed. Your eyebrows furrowed in worry. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Katsuki looked at you before looking off to the side. “I had a nightmare.” He let out lowly, his voice still deep and scratchy with sleep. He looked greatly disturbed by whatever this nightmare was about. You moved over closer to him, tilting your head confused. “I cheated on you and you married Deku.” He started making your face fall and your eyes wide.

“And you had all these little broccoli haired brats! And they were everywhere! Five whole boys, Y/N, for that fucking nerd! And you were so happy and I was miserable and I missed you so much! And I regrated everything and I was married to Eijiro and we had a divorce and then I had this kid from an egg doner or something, he seemed like a good kid, but I was a terrible father! It was horrible! You were all over Deku being such an amazing wife and making him all these dumplings that made him look like a fucking pig and-”

Katsuki stopped rambling about his dream as you giggled at the explanation of what he had been through in his sleep. You leaned against his arm, looking up at him amused. That was not the first thing you thought your husband would tell you this morning. “Really Katsuki? Me and Izuku?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. “That must have been one hell of a dream, Katsuki, but I’m here.” You took his large hand in yours, intertwining your fingers. “Your wife of two decades, I’m here.”

At that reminder his shoulders eased as he moved to wrap his arms around you and pull you back to lie in bed. He took a deep breath, just feeling you wrapped up in his arms. You always fit so good there, where you belonged. He tightened his arms around. “Yah, you’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking.” He grumbled. “You’d never marry Deku.”

“…”

“…Y/N!”

You let out a laugh at the pure distress in the way he said your name. “I’m pulling your leg, Tsuki. I have no reason to marry Izuku. I have you and the kids and that’s all I need.” You told him honestly, resting your head on his chest with a smile. He nodded in agreement with that statement, an affirming grunt. “But now that we’re awake, we should get breakfast and wake up the kids.” You reminded him.

He let out a low grumbled. “Right. Those little parasites.” He grumbled making you laugh as you carefully started getting out of bed, but Katsuki wouldn’t let go of you.

“Hey! They are your little parasites Mr Bakugō.” You reminded him, tapping his cheek.

He playfully scowled at you like the big man child he was. “Don’t remind me.” He joked, rolling his eyes.

You tried wrenching yourself free but it wasn’t working. “Katsuki. Let go of me.”

“No.” He stated adamantly as he pulled you closer, moving to roll on top of you.

You let out a laugh at how impossible he was being. You tried pushing him off you but the giant prohero was not budging one bit. “You’re heavy!”

He clung to you like a koala. “Too bad.”

After convincing Katsuki that you could take a bath together as long as he got off of you, you headed to freshen up before you both left your bedroom. Katsuki went to his domain which was the kitchen. He slipped on his pink frilly apron that his dad used to wear and got started on breakfast as you came down the steps with your four year old and youngest child.

You sat Kazue on the ground and she went waddling over to her father immediately, grabbing onto his sweatpants. Katsuki looked down at the little blond girl with poofy pigtails. She tugged on his pants before looking up at him with her little Dynamight plushy in her arms. She sucked on her thumb before looking up at him. “Morning Poppa.” She greeted softly.

Katsuki smiled at his only quiet child. He grabbed a cloth and wiped his hands before picking her up. “There you are my angel.” He said, kissing her chubby cheek making her smile as she took her thumb out of her mouth and wrapped her arms around his neck. He held her with one arm, putting her on his hip as he continued to make pancakes. “Poppa’s making pancakes. Will you eat one?” She nodded her head, keeping her head in the crook of his neck.

Letting out a loud yawn walking into the kitchen was your eldest. You smiled at the sight of him as he automatically made his way to you. He placed a kiss to your cheek before resting his head on top of yours. You chuckled. “Morning Eitsuki.”

“Mornin’ Ma” He grumbled tiredly. The blond teenager basically just clung to you, recharging whatever battery he wasn’t able to last night.

You moved a hand to his face softly. “Up gaming all night?” You asked. He let out an affirmative sound. Katsuki let out a tsk. Eitsuki raised an eyebrow. He let go of you and moved to sit at the kitchen island as well. “Morning Pops.” Katsuki let out a grunt in reply. Eitsuki turned to you, deep blood crimson eyes looking at you. He motioned to his father. “What’s wrong with him?” He asked confused.

“Your father had a bad dream. He said I got married to Uncle Izuku.”

Eitsuki let out a scoff as he took out his phone from his pocket. “Bad dream?” He leaned back. “Sounds like a fucking nightmare.”

“That’s what I said!” Katsuki said loudly, turning back with a pointed look, trying to emphasise his point. “Deku can’t be the number one fucking hero and take my wife! Not over,” He pointed his spatula to his chest. “My dead body!”

You rolled your eyes at your excentric husband and looked back to your eldest. “It’s so nice to have you for the weekend from UA. How’s it going?”

The sixteen year old shrugged. “It’s alright, Mr Aizawa is pretty fed up though. Said he was getting war flashbacks or something.”

Katsuki scoffed at the mention of his old teacher but a small smile on his face as he shook his head, turning back to flip the fluffy pancake perfectly. “He’s just scared cause he already had to deal with us once upon a time.”

Eitsuki opened his mouth to speak when-

“POPPA!” A loud shout called as a girl entered the room. The twelve year old held a phone to her ear as she peaked into the kitchen.

“DON’T FUCKING SHOUT!” Eitsuki barked at her with a scowl on his face. “IT’S LIKE EIGHT IN THE MORNING!”

“I WASN’T TALKING TO YOU!” Hikaru screamed back.

Your husband rolled his eyes before looking at his second eldest child. “What is it Hikaru?”

She turned to look back at her father. “Can I go out with Hana and Sachiko? We want to go out to the mall?” She asked as she leaned against the doorpost. The girl looked a lot like your mother in law Mitsuki and had the same fiery temper that the Bakugō’s had.

Katsuki was silent for a moment as he thought about it. He looked too you. You shrugged, not seeing a problem with it. He looked back to Hikaru. “Only if your brother goes with you.” He motioned to Eitsuki.

Eitsuki and Hikaru both got wide eyes, clearly neither of them liking that arrangement. “WHAT!?”

“Pops I don’t want to go with her and her annoying friends!” Eitsuki stated as he motioned to his sister. “They’ll drag me around like a headless chicken!”

“And I don’t want to be stuck with him!” She pointed at her brother with a finger. “He’s ugly! He ruins the entire trip!”

“I AM NOT UGLY!”

“WHO TOLD YOU THAT? MOM!”

“POPPA!” Running into the kitchen was your eight year old, Suzume. “Are you taking me to gymnastic practice?”

“POPS DID YOU HEAR WHAT SHE JUST SAID TO ME?”

“HE SMELLS TOO!”

“BUT WHAT ABOUT GYMNASTICS!”

“EVERYBODY SHUT UP!” Your husband shouted, effectively silencing everyone.

He looked over at his family with wide eyes. He put his fingers to the bridge of his nose with a scowl as he sighed. Kazue looked up at her father with a tired look but snuggled back into his neck, burying her face there. At the feeling of his youngest he sighed.

He opened his eyes and looked to Eitsuki. “You! You’re going to the mall with your sister, you’re there for three hours then you can drag her ass back home. You!” He pointed to Hikaru. “You’re brother is going with you whether you like it or not. I’m not letting a bunch of twelve year old girls go around a mall by themselves. You!” He pointed to Suzume. “Mom’s taking you to gymnastic practice, make sure you’re ready by ten. And you!” Katsuki looked to you. You looked up from where you were sipping your coffee.

You looked around before smiling. “You seem like you’re handling things, Tsuki.” You affirmed with a smile. “Good job.” You gave him a thumbs up.

Katsuki rolled his eyes as the kitchen started up with talking again. His two eldest were arguing, his third was busy trying to convince you to let her bring her new costume to gymnastics and at least his youngest seemed very comfortable in his arms. Despite the chaos that was the Bakugō family, Katsuki smiled.

-Glitch1d

#mha x y/n #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou #bnha #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki #dilf bakugou #dilf katsuki bakugou #dilf bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #mha #katsuki x you #katsuki x y/n

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smallnico · 1 month

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durge desensitizes to casual positive affection and friendship compilation

also known as real feline durge hours. esper's companions look at them and say Is Anyone Gonna Manhandle That Murderous Twink and then not wait for an answer. contexts/explanations under readmore for the curious

lae'zel and esper do morning exercises and meditation together. most of the time they pass the time in silence, but sometimes they're joined by the local wildlife. esper is a great fan of showing their friends things they might find interesting as a form of affection instead of words, especially with lae'zel, since they have a common discomfort with small talk.

esper doesn't like looking at themself in the mirror, so their makeup is always ancient and haphazardly applied, a fact that distresses the more image-conscientious shadowheart. she and esper have a sibling-like relationship fuelled by mutual amnesia and goth solidarity, among other things, but sometimes a sister has to take it upon herself to fix her stinky sibling's wings.

i already expanded on wyll and esper's dynamic a bit in this piece and i didn't feel like drawing the same thing twice, but suffice it to say, they have absolutely no idea how to talk to each other, but still look out for each other. the joke here is about how i've done a couple of long rests in-game with just alcohol i've found. hey 5 camp supplies is 5 camp supplies

jaheira unearths esper's forgotten mother issues. no real things to add here. no thoughts only cub.

gale said way back in act 1 that esper reminded him of tara, and esper isn't leaning into that on purpose per se, but as i said for lae'zel, they like getting their friends things those friends might enjoy. they also love chaos. show your evocation wizard some love by bringing him extremely destructive spells to play with. show your durge some love by casting chain lightning and letting them watch

i have no justification for this one lmao. esper isn't a Huge fan of being picked up and hefted around like a sack of oats, but maybe they should've thought of that before being small and scoop-uppable. socially, esper and halsin don't click especially well, but esper is fundamentally a creature, and therefore pretty easy for halsin to understand. obviously they don't mind that much :J

esper and karlach voted two most touch-starved nerds in faerun, they help each other cope by sleeping in a cuddle pile like cats. karlach runs warm even after getting her engine tuned up, but esper doesn't mind. she's cozy

astarion is by far the person esper is the most verbal with, probably because he's the only one who really thinks the durgeisms that slip out are funny and #relatable. everyone else errs on the side of caution with esper, but astarion knows he's allowed to take liberties with them, and he does. they have the same sense of humour. these two freaks are completely insufferable together because they're vibing so hard on a level incomprehensible to everyone around them, but astarion can put a stop to esper's self-destructive internal stress engine, and esper can drag him into helping and working hard. the others have no choice but to tolerate them as a couple because no matter how unhinged they are as a unit, they're so much worse for society on the whole as individuals. do not separate them

if you read all this, hope you enjoyed this illumination of esper's party dynamics, i love you <3 enjoy

#smallnico art #baldur's gate 3 #the dark urge #bg3 #bg3 dark urge #bg3 lae'zel #bg3 shadowheart #bg3 wyll #bg3 jaheira #bg3 gale #bg3 halsin #bg3 karlach #bg3 astarion #bg3 companions #esper #smallnioc #bg3 comic #durgeposting

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hwatermelons · 7 months

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heyyy 🤭 i love love loveee ur ateez writing!! can u do a soft n fluffy bf!ateez when cuddling at night? u can do any writing style u want! <3 thank uuu

ateez ⋆ cuddling at night with them

⋆ 1.6k words ⋆ bf!ateez x gn!reader ⋆ fluff! so much fluff ^^ ⋆ warnings: lots of close physical contact, face touching and chaste kissing ⋆ a/n: ngl i giggled and kicked my feet while writing this even though it took me forever (i'm so sorry about that;;) thank you sm for the request! also, wooyoung is a history nerd.

╭──────────────────────────.★..─╮

hongjoong ⋆ art

hongjoong smiles as he runs his fingertips down the side of your face, snuggled into the blanket facing you. when you'd asked him to trace your face to sleep, he'd wondered why anyone would ever want to be touched that closely at first. but when you explained that it was something your parents used to do when you had a nightmare as a child, he was delighted to offer the same level of comfort.

hongjoong outlines the perimeter of your eyes, nose and lips, working his way from the top of your forehead to the tip of your chin. soft kisses follow his fingers. your eyelids grow heavy as he smooths back your hair, tracing each strand from the root to the tip. he's in no rush to finish his masterpiece, and helping you fall asleep in the middle of it is an added bonus.

you were the most fascinating person hongjoong knew, a tapestry woven in five senses. so to him, you deserved his full attention in order to do justice to your likeness. your lover studies the way the way your lashes flutter in your sleep, memorizes the sound of your steady breathing, contemplates the texture of your skin and all its lovely imperfections that give life to your form. if he could, hongjoong would paint a vision of you on the insides of his eyelids so he could see you every time he dreamed. he settles for painting your face instead, the slow movements of his fingers detailing each cherished feature.

seonghwa ⋆ solidity

seonghwa always loves to surprise you with back hugs during the day, especially with the way you melt into a puddle in his arms every time. so it's no surprise that his favorite way to fall asleep at night is flush against your back, face pressed into your hair and hands holding onto yours, wrapped around you in a tight embrace. seonghwa needs your weight against his chest just as much as you need his solid reassurance behind you. the best part is being able to feel his heartbeat pump out a steady rhythm, the perfect white noise for quieting down any extra thoughts before you fall asleep.

you lean into him, eyes slipping closed. the familiarity of it is impossible not to sink into. seonghwa presses a kiss into your hair as you drift off, his arms a firm reminder that the outside world can't get to you here.

yunho ⋆ beauty

yunho can't imagine falling asleep in any other way than watching your eyelids droop inches from his face through his own sleepy haze. and that's exactly where you are tonight, just like the night before, and so many nights before that. forgetting about the weight of the world in your lover's arms, even if it's only for a couple hours. unknown to you, however, said lover is currently busy fighting a losing battle in his mind against the urge to shower your sweet, drowsy face in kisses.

yunho sighs. he's been trying so hard to hold back for the past hour. but it's late, and he can't sleep, and more importantly he just can't resist anymore. he leans in and touches your foreheads together, then rubs your nose with the tip of his. in his defense, he can't help it! you're just too adorable to him. but when you open your eyes, he panics.

"ahhh, was that too much? i should've asked--" you interrupt him by pulling him into a tight hug. yunho yelps in surprise as you bury your face into his chest, hiding the rapidly rising blush across your cheeks. "it was perfect," you mumble, the words muffled by the soft fabric of his shirt.

yeosang ⋆ trust

the only reason yeosang shies away from touching you in public is because that's something he wants to share only with you. it's sacred. to him, physical touch is a promise between two people, that they'll hold on and never let go through all the bad times, and celebrate all of the good together. from a kiss on the cheek stolen by san or wooyoung to a smothering group hug from the other members, yeosang only allows those closest to him to touch him. so when he lets you wrap your arms around him and tuck yourselves into a blanket burrito and smooth back his hair and press kisses to his temples, you know he can finally fully trust you. you smile to yourself as you hear yeosang's breaths even out, your cherished angel slipping into sleep.

san ⋆ smile

san holds you like he's afraid you'll leave if he doesn't keep up his vice-like grip. to him, there's no such thing as being too close to you. he rarely leaves you completely alone during most of the day, taking the chance to smother you in hugs or kisses whenever you let him at home, and he's always a text away if you two are apart. at night, you're all his, and he loves the fact that you have no escape now. your arms mirror his, wrapped tightly around his waist. but you add your own touch by massaging up and down his spine, earning a soft sigh from him. you can feel his back muscles relaxing through the shiba inu patterned pajamas as he settles his head in between your neck and shoulder, leaving a kiss at the spot he ends up at.

and then san looks up at you with one of those smiles. the ones where his eyes scrunch all the way up but he's too elated to care about how silly he looks (in his opinion, not yours). no matter how long it's been, he still can't believe he gets to see you from this angle every night, the way no one else can.

mingi ⋆ envelop

mingi physically cannot fall asleep without using you as his personal teddy bear. his favorite way to hold you is with his chin resting on the top of your head. you'd be curled into his chest, and he'd have his arms around you like he can't bear to let any part of you escape his grasp.

your princess adores being able to protect you, to watch over you, to feel needed in such a fundamental way. he kisses the top of your head, and you feel him relaxing into the embrace, the tension leaving his muscles. mingi tries his best to keep his eyes open for you, but ends up drifting off first from your warmth. as you shift into a more comfortable position, he subconsciously pulls you in tighter, soft breaths tickling your scalp.

wooyoung ⋆ tale

"tell me a story," you probe wooyoung as he lays his head on your stomach. he loves being pampered by you, and he always looks forward to the end of the day for this. his hair is the longest it's been in a while, and you've been absentmindedly braiding and unbraiding sections of it as he replays one particular step of the choreography he and the others had worked on today on his phone. you can tell he isn't nearly as satisfied with it as he wants to be. but it's getting late and inspiration isn't striking him, so he decides to set down the phone and humor your wish.

wooyoung always seems to have some interesting tale to tell, like the adventures of a legendary historical figure, or the origins of a certain korean tradition, or even the story behind the most seemingly mundane things.

tonight's feature is the latest gossip from the servants working behind the closed doors of an ancient prince's private grounds in the Joseon era. apparently, he’d been busy plotting a coup against his father, the king (“right under his nose!”). but it was completely justified because he planned on passing the throne to his youngest son instead of him ("the audacity!"). wooyoung enthusiastically details the bloody fratricides the prince committed ("i'm pretty sure one was enough to send the message??"), eventually scaring his last remaining brother into abdicating the throne after less than a year ("a single year!").

unnoticed by wooyoung, you fall asleep in the first five minutes of his retelling. he goes on for half an hour before he realizes you've started to snore. at first he's half-jokingly offended, but he knows you were exhausted from the long day. still, that doesn't stop him from taking a picture of your face smushed into your pillow for future blackmail purposes, before snuggling up in the sheets with you. you won't be spared from the story over breakfast tomorrow (hey, you asked for it!), but for now he's perfectly content with hooking his arms around you and falling asleep on your chest, careful not to wake you up in the process.

jongho ⋆ serenade

jongho loves loves loves singing you to sleep. and he loves it even more when you ask him to. from the crook of his arm, you look up at him and softly make your request known. his eyes sparkle in assent, and the gentle hum of 'star 1117' fills the room as he plays with your fingers resting on his chest. you reach up to pinch his cheek, finding him too adorable in this moment, and he makes a face. jongho pinches both of your cheeks harder in retaliation, refusing to let go and chuckling when you swat at his hands. "when i said i'll return all of your love tenfold, i meant it," he teases, fully prepared to smother your face in a bear hug if you dared to acknowledge the cheesiness of his words.

╰─..★.──────────────────────────╯

⋆ likes/reblogs appreciated ⋆ do not repost ⋆ taglist: @gottagetback2u, @mazeinthemiroh

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cyanhydrangea · 3 months

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Nerd(s) [Bayverse Donatello x Reader]

Summary: Donnie thinks you're always avoiding him because he's a nerd, he's about to find out the real reason

Warning: mentions of bullying

Donnie notices you love to spend your free time with his brothers

You often meditate with Leo

You workout with Raph

You play video games with Mikey

But he also notices you never spends your time with him, just the two of you.

Once he invites you into his lab since he often see you stand at the entrance of his lab, but you immediately excuse yourself, saying there's an urgent thing to do at home. (He could hear mikey's whine, saying "aren't we gonna play skateboard [name]??")

Donnie feels like you're always avoiding him, and it saddened him.

Out of curiosity, he once stalks you online, because he had to admit he might has a 'lil crush on you. He found your social medias and make a conclusion that you're quite popular. No wonder, you're gorgeous, after all.

Perhaps, you just don't want to hang out with a nerd like him.

At least, that's what he thought.

One day, you were exhausted and fell asleep on the couch at the lair. Donnie walked past by, heading to his lab but stopped when he heard something.

You, sleep talking, mumbling...

...chemical elements? In periodic table order?

Donnie got closer to you, to hear more clearly what you're saying in your sleep, and indeed you were sleep-talking periodic table of elements, in order.

Raph and Mikey's sudden presence, fighting over the last pizza they had, woken you up. And you weren't expecting the purple masked turtle to be so close to you

"Uhh, hi Donnie"

"Hi, uhmmm"

You get up to sit on the couch, Donnie's not sure if he should tell you what happened but he can't help it.

"You were sleep talking..."

"I did?"

"Yeah, about chemical elements...in periodic table order..."

You can feel your face got warmer, you can't believe what you just been told.

"Do you have any interest in chemistry?" Donnie can't help but ask.

You gulped, unsure how to answer it.

"I used to...I mean I still do, I mean---"

You sigh, "It's complicated....I have a love-hate relationship with science in general"

Donnie sits beside you, getting intrigued.

"You see, I used to be a massive nerd in school, but I get bullied for it everyday. I make a decision to change my persona when I started high school. I abandoned my love for science altogether so I won't go back to the nerdy persona and won't get bullied again"

You paused before you continue, "But when I met you and see you have this amazing lab with awesome inventions, my inner nerd self is dying to spends a lot of time with you. But you also reminds me of my past self, and the painful memories of getting bullied keeps replaying in my head"

Donnie's heart breaks hearing your story

"I'm sorry you've been through those traumatic events"

You tried to smile, "It's ok, it's not your fault or anything"

Donnie locks his determined eyes with yours "I want to assure you that you're safe here, w-with me, whenever you're ready for the joy of science again"

You blushed by the eye contact, "T-thank you"

The thought of spending time with your crush doing things you love makes both you and Donnie feels a warm, fuzzy feeling inside.

#CyanHydrangea

Date Written: 17/01/2024

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uarmymoonlight · 4 months

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after the afterparty

pairing: nerd!namjoon X ex-mean girl!reader

genre: frenemies (? sorta) to lovers, rivals to lovers, college!au, one-shot, angsty, smut,

summary: after a night of partying with your (now ex-)classmates, namjoon finds you alone in the kitchen and unspoken feelings and desires come rushing to the surface

warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, reader’s a bit of an asshole, namjoon kinda idolizes her, lots of untold backstory for the #angst, tit/nipple play, biting (lightly)

words: a little over 4.8k

taglist: @kyglover @luaspersona

crossposted on AO3: here.

image by @/chimigraphic on twitter

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

You finally take a deep breath of the cold night air. Eyes closed, beer in hand, hip leaned in against the kitchen counter. Another deep breath.

This night took a real toll on you: 2 hours of pre-game plus 4 of partying and an unbelievable 2 and a half more of after-partying, all in the name of socialization and redemption. But it’s over now.

You let the silence embrace and erase you. The outdoor lights paint the room with a faint blue and the only sound is a car passing by and the sink leaking. It’s just you there. The rest have gone to bed – their own or someone else’s - or back to their own airbnbs. But, as tired as you are, you stay there in the kitchen. This last moment of silence before you leave this place for good. And these long nearly 9 hours of today won’t matter. The people at the party won’t matter. Not even that award-stealing, headache-inducing, infuriating, dimpled assh–

A noise stops your thoughts. You turn to your right to see Namjoon kneeling down to catch the water bottle he’d dropped.

“Namjoon.”

“Hey”, he licks his lips “I...I thought everyone else was gone or sleeping.”

“So did I.”

A beat of silence goes by and then another, a longer one. You could almost laugh at the silence that sets between the two of you. Had this happened a while back, you would’ve already told him to fuck off and probably insulted him somehow. Then again, had this been back then, he would’ve been vexing you endlessly by refusing to let the silence just be, doing that nervous back-and-forth on his heels he used to do all the time and talking your ear off.

This isn’t back then, however. So now, you’re just looking at each other.

Alright. You said you’d change your attitude, didn’t you? Here’s a test for you to prove you did. Your chance to do something to Namjoon you’ve never done before: be nice.

“Congratulations.”

He scoffs, incredulous.

“You’re congratulating me?”

You can’t say you’re surprised he asked. There was a time you’d rather have eaten your own two feet before ever complimenting Namjoon to his face, a time you’d have done anything to not stay in the same room as him. Let alone just the two of you together.

“Well, I did tell you I would, when you deserved it” you remind him “You won the academic decathlon, graduated top of the class, and you got the girl. You deserve it now, so there you go: congratulations.” you raise your glass slightly to him.

He hesitates.

“I got a girl.”

You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. You keep staring at him with those piercing eyes of yours. He hates them. Hates how much he’s always been so aware of them. Hates how much he’s always been so desperate to understand the emotions behind them. But, most of all, he hates how beautiful he finds them, how much they make him feel so on the spotlight, so special.

He watches you open and close your mouth. Once. Twice. You’re speechless? Now here’s one for the history books, he thinks. You’re probably debating whether you should ask him or not about what he meant by that. And God, he hopes you do. He wants you to ask him, he so desperately does. He needs you to want to know what he means. He needs this opening to tell you exactly why Seulgi isn’t the girl, he needs this one chance to tell you what he’s been holding in for so long, the feelings that are always on the tip of his tongue.

Namjoon waits for you to ask. But you don’t. You look away.

You can’t ask him, because that question leads to things you’ve already shut the door of, a long time ago. And he should know better than to try and get it out of you. But he’s Namjoon. Namjoon, always the hopeful idealist, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. And you, always the scoffing pessimist, the egotistical cold bitch. So, you take the coward’s route and when you look back at him all you say is:

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” So there’s no point in talking about any of this, is what you don’t say.

“I know.”

Again, neither of you talk for a while. In silence, you simply look at each other. The air between you is tense with something neither could name exactly. Namjoon breaks the silence this time.

“Dance with me?” he extends his left hand to you.

“There’s no music.”

He shrugs and insists “Dance with me.”

You look at his still stretched hand towards you and it’s almost a perfect flashback of that one night so many nights ago. When he had also reached out for you, in ways more than just physical. When Namjoon had laid out so much of himself for you and all you did was spit it back at him.

“You owe me this one”, he says. Maybe he’s an ass for insisting on this, but God knows you actually do owe him at least this one. You do, and you know it. “You didn’t even talk to me at my party earlier”, he adds.

And it’s just another time that you realize he really is a much better person than you are for using the party as leverage, and not…Well, everything else you’ve done. It’s something you’re not sure you would’ve done for him.

You softly put down your beer on the counter, looking at it while you do so. Anything to not look at him just yet. You need those extra few seconds to…You don’t know what for. To prepare? To breathe? It isn’t to think, surely. Maybe that’s it. You need to not think about what you’re going to do. When the can touches the counter, you spin it a couple times, staring at the label.

With your peripheral vision, you can see Namjoon’s offering hand still out. Again, you remember another moment, a long time ago, when he offered his hand too. You had refused it. God, you suck at this not thinking thing. Andnd you suck at not being a coward.

You finally peel away from the counter and walk quietly to namjoon. You stare at his hand and, taking your time, you slide yours in it. Feeling every inch of his skin until both of your hands are completely touching, and when that happens, you feel a breath you didn’t realize you were holding come out. You feel a bit pathetic for it. The worst part is you hear Namjoon doing the same thing.

Namjoon is smart, you know that. You and everyone who saw him beat you at everything academic-related year after year after year. He’s smart. But he’s not truly smart. If he were truly smart, you think, he’d pull away right now. If he were, he’d turn his back away from you for good.

He doesn’t. He slides his hand from yours to your elbow, caressing your forearm on his way and pulls you in. His fingers on his right hand brush against you, starting with your fingers and going up until he settles it on your waist, pulling you in even more. Not letting go of your elbow, he places your hand on his chest and you complete the action by sliding both your arms around his neck.

You still haven’t looked in his eyes, focusing on his shirt. Actually, his chest. You’d rather not think about that.

You feel his presence all around you, feel him on your skin even though very few parts of you are really touching the other. You feel his head close to yours, your feet almost touching. The two of you stand locked in place.

“Namjoon?”

“Yes?” His voice is little more than a breath.

“Move.”

You hear him scoff lightly and get brave enough to glance at him through your eyelashes. Only a shadow of a smile rests on his lips, so his famous dimples are nowhere in sight.

As he begins to lead you, that quivering bravery you felt moments ago vanishes. You go back to staring at his shirt while embarrassingly hoping you don’t step on his toes. You'd count your steps, instead of just hoping you're doing it right. That is if you knew how to do that. Shouldn't there be music in order to properly count the steps? Isn't that how it works? You count by following the beat of the song, right? But, then again, there's supposed to be music when you dance regardless of the counting. God, what a stupid idea. Why did you agree to this anyway?

Namjoon pulls you even closer, joining your chests and your thighs together as you draw in a surprised breath and let out a sigh. Now, your nose brushes against his lips.

Ah, right. That is why.

You really can't do this not-thinking thing. Product of years over worrying about your social status and over analyzing every interaction you had to make sure you came out on top. It’s actually a lot of hard work being the main top bitch in the area.

Briefly, you wonder what people would think if they saw you right now in his arms. You wonder what Namjoon thinks of this whole scene.

And what an interesting scene it is: the dim lights covering you like a blanket while you quietly embrace, a dance that is little more than just swaying softly to a soundtrack of whispers and wind. You can see your pale reflections on the window. The image akin to that of ghost lovers lost to time, only united by the sound of emptiness when time is frozen. Maybe is because of that image of emptiness and stillness, and because you already decided to leave that you tell him:

"I'm sorry.” It's said so softly, so hopelessly, that Namjoon nearly misses it.

There’s so much he could say to that and yet…He puts a hand on your chin and pulls you away just enough to look at your face. With your eyebrows frowning and your beautiful eyes wide scanning him, you look as scared as Namjoon feels. Namjoon traces your face with his thumb: eyebrow to temple to cheek to your lips. This last caress makes your lips part a little, enough for only a thread of air to pass, and eyes flutter.

There’s so much he could say, but there's only one thing he wants.

Your lips touch in a strong kiss. A kiss that is like that first leap of courage into a cold pool. You know the water will be cold at first, but you also know that if you don't jump, you'll never get into the pool. And just like in a pool, neither of you breathe for a while. Just like in a pool, Namjoon is terrified of that first splash of water, scared you'll push him away.

The kiss ends and you catch your breaths. Not for long, though. You grab the lapel of his jacket to pull him in again and relock your lips. Now, you make sure it's a proper kiss, you take your time learning how to kiss him and how you two fit. After a swirl of your tongue, you feel his hand on your lower back put more pressure and pin you closer. Your legs open slightly and he puts one of his legs a little in between yours, his crotch rubbing against yours as you kiss. As you sink your finger deeper into his jacket, Namjoon firmly grabs the back of your neck and presses his hold. The shivers all over your body and your moan encourage him.

A surprised gasp leaves you when Namjoon, with one hand grabbing your neck and the other around your waist, moves you until your back is against a wall. The cold surface touching your back provides a small break from the hot and heavy air between you and him. A small part of you - the part that isn’t busy kissing him - is a little shocked at how strong he got. When you first met him, he was all height and bones. You’d heard he’d started going to the gym some semesters ago, but you sorta refused to really acknowledge it and, when your eyes and body acknowledged that independently, your brain made a conscious choice to ignore it. At the moment, you don’t have much brainpower to make any choice besides making out with him.

Namjoon likes to think he's self aware enough to not be an arrogant prick, but he can't stop the feeling of pride taking over him as you touch him with such clear appreciation of his new physique. He responds to it with his own devotion, intoxicated by your trademark perfume, the same lingering scent that would always tempt him whenever you left a room.

You feel his toned chest and your hands travel along his strong shoulders. And you feel a bit stupid, a bit clichè, because you put your hands on his upper arms and squeeze his biceps. Kinda like in those stupid movies where the sweet bimbo cheerleader fakes coyness as she fawns over the totally not humble quarterback’s muscles. Okay, so, yeah, maybe it’s a bit eye-rolling worthy, but God! his biceps! If his biceps weren’t enough…his thighs! His thighs are huge and strong and you think you’re not really ashamed of how you gladly let him put one of them between your legs. Also, you don’t care that you two are unabashedly dry humping each other, like two horny inexperienced teenagers. Well, suppose that goes with the cheerleader-quarterback thing. Besides, Namjoon certainly doesn’t seem to mind, guiding and motivating your movements by stroking your ass.

Jesus, dry humping someone should not feel this good. You keep going, more, more and more, feeling yourself get wetter with each move, feeling Namjoon get harder each time you feel his dick brushing against your lower belly. He lifts your leg and repositions himself at a better angle so it isn’t just the friction that’s doing it for you, but the hard pressure of his dick too making you nearly lose your mind in need of him - and he's barely touched you. How come you're affected by him like this?

You open your eyes to see him leaving messy kisses along your skin, making his way down your neck past your collarbones. When he reaches your cleavage he makes it a point to maintain eye contact and lazily kisses the space between your breasts. Again, Namjoon isn't particularly conceited, still, he shows a boastful smirk at your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continues his way down your body, his hands trailing its contours and feeling the soft silk of your dress he wished you weren’t wearing.

To him, you’re beautiful like a queen: proud, imposing, and powerful. You’ve always been. He thinks it’s your sharp, intelligent eyes, your intent look, but it’s also your straight and confident posture. Looking at you at the moment, though he can still see that spark of intelligence, your eyes are heavy-lidded. Your posture is not insecure, it’s solicitous, fully ready to give in to him. But you’re still you and because you’re still you that there’s still a hint of royal impatience in the way you press yourself against his body, demanding more out of him.

The vision of him going down past your belly button makes you take a breath and arch your back in anticipation. You'd sooner kill yourself before saying you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you do feel something. It takes all your little sense of self control to not grab his hair and lead him straight to where you want him. You don’t have a chance to actually do this since he’s already dipping even lower, eyeing you with malice and desire and nearly driving you crazy with need. You feel your nipples harden when he strokes your folds through your panties with his thumb before pushing the clothing aside.

“Namjoon”, you moan.

He lets out a low growling sound at that and begins exploring your pussy. Fingers and tongue take turns touching and tasting you. His fingers open and stretch you while his mouth sucks on your clit. You think you mumble something along the lines of “yes” and “there” a few times. Your fingers curl in response and your hips move following his rhythm. He licks and sucks and tastes and touches and strokes and you feel yourself closer to cumming with each movement.

Once more, you catch a glimpse of yourselves in a window. The sight is one of pure depravation. You see how dishelved you look, your lips swollen from the kisses and hair an entangled mess on your head, dress hiked up as one of your legs is proped up on Namjoon’s shoulder, a hand of his squeezing your thigh.You’re a bit impressed at how he’s still at it, when your last few hook-ups seemed to want to eat you out as quickly as possible only to say they did it. You’ve never really seen a man who seems so happy to eat pussy like Namjoon. You watch your reflection for a little bit longer while he continues edging you.

Enough. You need all of him now.

“Namjoon”, you say breathlessly. It was a command, but your mind can only think about his tongue on your pussy. You try again. You forcefully pull his head back “Namjoon.”

He hisses a bit due to the force of you pulling his hair.

“Yes, Your Highness?” you squint your eyes in annoyance hearing the mocking nickname he gave you so long ago. You hated the nickname, because you knew it wasn’t a compliment, just a veiled insult of his. However, hearing it while he’s on his knees for you…not bad, you think, not bad at all. Especially when his already deep voice sounds deeper and raspy, the words coming out with a drawl.

“Bedroom. Now.”

He’s up in a second, leading you upstairs. The way up is confusing and chaotic, with the two of you nearly running but barely letting go of each other, hot and lewd kisses exchanged while you walk. You have no idea how Namjoon finds the right door. He stops kissing you only to open the bedroom’s door, which you quickly shut behind you. He tries to put you against it, but you flip him and press him to the door instead.

For a moment, you only look at him. Spreading your hands on his muscular chest, you listen to your heavy breathing.

“Y/N.”

You kiss him again. You put your lips on his neck and take your time there, busying your hands with taking off his jacket and then unbottuning his shirt. When you finish, you stroke his bulge through his pants. Namjoon lets out a hungry hiss that has you rubbing your thighs together. The point of stroking him was to tease Namjoon, you wanted to see if you could get him so worked up as he’d done to you. Unfortunately for you, you find out that that’s a double edged sword and it’s sharper end is pointed towards you, because the more you touch him the more you feel yourself get hotter. Having him in your hand only makes your mouth water.

There’s only one thing you can think of right now. You pull his member out of his pants, stroking the full length once before you turn him and push him down on the bed. Namjoon watches you crawl onto the bed and fully take off his pants and underwear. It’s not slow and sweet or careful. Every motion of yours is aggressive and fast, eyes gleaming with a hungry determination Namjoon is sure is mirrored in his own eyes. You’re beautiful, so so beautiful. On all fours over him like a fucking lioness ready for her meal. Just looking at you like this makes him even harder.

Maybe the gentlemanly thing would be to stop and tell you there’s no need to repay the favor of earlier. But, well, maybe Namjoon isn’t a gentleman, after all. And he’d surely never deny you of anything, not when you so clearly want him. The idea of you wanting him just a fraction of how much he wants you is the best feeling in the world. Or rather, the second best. Because the first is definitely the feeling of your mouth on him.

You take his full length in your mouth, coating his dick with your saliva. Namjoon watches as you alternate between teasing kitten licks on his cockhead and properly sucking him off, your hands griping the base of his cock. God, you’re not simply beautiful, you’re gorgeous. He fights against the urge to roll back in his eyes in order to watch you going down on him. Your hair is thrown around, some of it tickling his thigh while your head keeps bobbing up and down, your makeup is smeared and your dress is a crumpled mess. And you’re gorgeous.

You make eye contact with him with your lips still wrapped around him and he thinks he’s gonna die. Or cum. Probably both. Maybe it’s his dick talking, but he thinks he’d die happy right now.

“Tell me what you like”, you tell him.

“You.”

The immediate blurted out answer shocks you a bit. You scoff.

“You really can’t keep it in.”

In the split second you don’t move, Namjoon starts to deflate. He ruined everything. He waits for you to get up and leave.

You don’t.

You lean forwards and kiss him. The kiss is nothing more than just the press of your lips together. You ignore the still lingering doubt in Namjoon’s eyes. Reaching past him, you go through the drawers on the nightstand. As you look for condoms, your tits are hanging above Namjoon’s head and he peppers kisses on them. After a few seconds, you get the condom out the drawer.

Namjoon tries taking it out of your hands.

“Give me, I can do it.”

“No”, you stop him. “It’s fine.”

You kiss him lightly on the cheek. Namjoon has to stop for a bit. You’d never been so…soft with him before. Not even in those few months long ago when you had been something akin to friends.

Not wasting any time, you put the condom on his cock. You quickly take your panties off and guide his lenght to where you want it. You two stare at each other as you sink yourself on his cock. Moaning at how he stretches you out. You love how full he makes you feel. He’s so big, his cock makes you feel so good. Having him in your mouth was one thing, having him inside you was heavenly. You place a hand on Namjoon’s chest.

“Lay down.”

Because you personally believe feminism is about having a buff hot nerdy guy under you while you get yourself off.

Head on the pillows, he watches you move your hips, leading him in a slow sensual rhythm. Moaning, your head rolls back in pleasure, mouth open to help you breathe better. The two of you pick up the pace, you bouncing on his cock a little then reverting back to grinding.

“Y/N, your dress. Please.”

Understanding what he means, you pull your dress above your head and toss it to the side. With both hands holding your hips, he only gives your tits a dazed glare. He keeps watching when you take your own hand and play with your tits. Namjoon growls and thrusts his hips upwards harder when you lick two of your fingers and use them to play with your nipples, caressing and pinching them, your palms massaging the rest of the soft flesh.

“Like that?”

The raspiness of your voice, that sparkle of meanness in your eyes, that one raised eyebrow on your face…it’s all almost too much for Namjoon. You are gorgeuous. And he’s so impossibly hard.

“Yeah.”

The word almost doesn’t come out. You shake your head and giggle at him. Only you. Only you could be bouncing on a guy’s cock, suck him off, have him eat you out, and, with just a little giggle, make the guy blush. Still, if feels so good to make you laugh. Even if it’s at him. So good.

Almost beats being inside of you. Almost.

Namjoon flips you and lays you down on the bed. Immediately after you hit the mattress, he’s already on you, mouth licking and sucking on you tit. His pace gets faster, more franctic, more desperate. Hitting deeper and deeper. When he hits a sweet spot, you moan louder.

“Yeah, there. More. More. Yes. Yeah,” you repeat the words like a mantra.

“So beautiful”, he tells you. “Almost there, baby.”

God, the pet name. “Can’t take it anymore”, you say.

“Yeah, you can, baby. You can take it all.”

He knows you can. You - open wide for him, hair spread on the pillows like a halo, nipples hardened for him, pussy clenching around him - can take it. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

On top of you, Namjoon looks like a fucking beast, in the best way possible. Eyebrows furrowed and barring his teeth, his honey skin sprinkled with sweat. A drop of it slips from his forehead and falls on your cheek and you finally cum. Moaning his name over and over. He put his mouth again on your tit, gritting your nipple between his front teeth. With a final moan out of you, Namjoon empties himself inside the condom.

For a few seconds, you don’t move, just listen to each other breathing. Namjoon feels himself getting softer inside you and, on the back of his mind, he dreads the moment he pulls out from you. Dreads the moment you realise whatever you were doing was over, and so was your business with him.

Still, he can’t stay inside you forever. He pulls out.

He busies himself with taking the condom off him and throwing it away while he notices you get tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up. He mentally kicks himself for not doing it for you, but then again, maybe you don’t want him doing this for you. That’s another kind of intimacy you haven’t given him the greenlight to do. Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

You put your dress back on and his heart aches. “First door to the right. Hey, uh - “ he begins before you leave “I’ll go get water. Do you want some?”

You shake your head and leave the room.

Silently, he puts his underwear and pants back on and goes to the kitchen, trying all the way down to not think of you.

He stays a little bit longer than needed in the kitchen. Even after everything, he still can’t feel sure of anything with you. There’s still that ugly feeling of inadequacy whispering in his head that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Tonight was just a fluke.

Namjoon goes back to the bedroom expecting you to not be there anymore. He imagines you jumping out of the bathroom window to escape him or sneaking off through the roof. If he wasn’t busy feeling sorry for what you two could’ve been, he’d probably laugh at the scenarios he made up.

When he opens the bedroom door, though, he finds you there. Curled up under the sheets on one side of the bed. Your eyes are closed and your face is serene. He hesitates.

“You’re not gonna sleep?”

You ask without opening your eyes. Namjoon doesn’t answer, but he climbs onto bed behind you. He doesn’t touch you, but he’s close enough that you feel his warmth beside you and his breathing on your neck.

A while of silence goes by. He’s not sure if you’re already asleep. However, there’s one more thing he needs to say to you, even if you don’t hear it. Something he was too much of a coward to say before.

“Stay.”

You open your eyes. You’re careful to make no move to alert him you’re still up.

You think about his request. Stay. Part of you wants to, part of you - a very small and recent part of you that is hopeful, a part that is only there because Namjoon coaxed it out of you - says you could stay. Stay. You could stay with him. Stay in his bed. In this city. Stay…

Like you said, though, that is a very small part of you. The biggest one is a coward.

When Namjoon wakes up to an empty side of the bed the next day, he instantly knows what happened.

You left.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

author’s note: my first attempt at writing smut (at least full on smut, star to finish), hope it doesn’t suck :DDDD any and all feedback/comments are appreciated

#kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon fanfic #rm x reader #rm imagine #bts fic #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts angst #bts smut #my writing #kim namjoon #namjoon #rm #bts

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murder-cookie-dust393 · 21 days

Note

Shadow Milk Cookie. Chloroform. Yandere. Do what you will with this information.

-🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍👨

I'm gonna put you as the anon listed above since- That's what I assume you mean?

I unintentionally put shitpost aha

Disclaimer: MC is still gender neutral, they are just referred to as queen for chess role purposes.

Tw: Eyestrain for the art that goes along with this piece, chloroform-like magic, kidnapping to a different dimension, implied future murder

You find yourself in a dark void. So black, you can't see anything through the shadows that swirl in your vision. You're not sure what it feels like. Is it threatening? Or is it a sense of peace? You aren't sure. This sense of the unknown makes you anxious.

Suddenly, a big blue eye opens in front of you, the colour glowing within the dimmed surroundings. The shade of blue reminded you of Lapis. A very bright one. But the eye itself, it was terrifying. You nearly wanted to break into pieces right then and there.

"Oh, my queen! You're finally here!" A voice eagerly chirps, a slightly maniacal tone to it. It seemed ecstatic to see you, too much so. You couldn't form an answer, still processing your odd environment.

"I've missed you~ It's been ages since I've seen your face! You don't look any different- oh, maybe you're just a little prettier, you silly thing!" The voice giggled as the eye blinked. The eye squinted upwards as if it was smiling. But wait, why did it act like it's seen you before? You don't know who this entity is. Not even what it is. Is it a cookie? A beast? Confusion swelled within you as the seconds passed.

"My sweet...What is that face?" The voice slowly faded away, as your world suddenly blackened once more.

——————————————————

"MC, are you okay?" You wake up to the face of Strawberry. She seems concerned, her big brown eyes down-turned. How cute. "You were shaking in your sleep."

"Um yeah, I'm okay. I just had a weird dream." You respond, still lying on the grass where you and the group are camped. You clutch onto your blanket a little tighter.

"Like a nightmare?" She tilts her head to the side.

"Not exactly. I can't put it to words..." You mumble off, trying to recall the eye that spoke to you.

"Oh okay." She glanced at the blue and violet sky, commenting, "It's almost sunrise. Do you wanna prepare jellies with me? I'm sure the others will wake up soon."

You nod and sit up before flailing your blanket to the side.

——————————————————

You and your friends are going through the forests of Beast Yeast, cautious of all the creatures and evil beings lurking by. That is until your group stumbles upon a random chessboard on a glass table. In the middle of the fucking path, in the middle of fucking Beast Yeast. Instead of black and white, the board is in different shades of blue.

"What in tarnation is this?" Wizard leans closer, staring at it intensely. Fidgeting with his fake beard, or in other words, his scarf.

Chili Pepper butted in, "The fuck you mean bro, this is obviously a dumb chessboard-"

"LANGUAGE!" Gingerbrave suddenly turned out to stare at Chili Pepper uncannily, before smiling again. "I'm sure it's something dangerous! Let's not touch it."

"Guys,"

"Or it could be a chessboard and table someone decided to randomly leave here."

"Shush- I'm always right." Gingerbrave did an imaginary hair toss.

"Guys..."

Wizard raised his hand, just like a nerd, "No? I am, thank you. By the almighty power of magic I-"

"You're an ice cream. Also, you're the one who's screaming for help half the time." Chili Pepper chuckled, poking at Wizard.

Strawberry took a breath and sharply, albeit quickly spoke, "Guys!"

The whole group turned to look at her, which made her flush with embarrassment. She pointed at the chessboard. "The pieces are moving on their own." When the gang looked back at the gameboard, they were met with a surprising sight.

The chess pieces moved by their own accord. Which revealed that the darker blue side was winning compared to the lighter blue. It was a competitive fight, with both sides making quick moves. It was mesmerizing, you aren't sure why.

You reached out your hand and touched one of the pieces in curiosity. Only to feel a sudden freezing cold gust fly at you. Your surroundings become dark, just like your dream as the yelps of your friends sound out around you. A sinister chuckle joins along, as your body is thrown into a blackened world once more.

"Honey! Honey, honey, honey, my honey."

You stand before a jester cookie, covered in eyes. He grins, his clothes like the blues of the chessboard. He swiftly goes over to you, cradling you in his arms. You can't move, overcome with a freezing cold that leaves you immobile.

"I've waited much too long on your reincarnation. We could have had a wonderful marriage by now if it weren't for that bastard Elder Faerie." He spoke softer than before but had a spit of venom for the name Elder Faerie. He leans closer, uncomfortably so. He makes a minuscule hum before pecking your mouth.

"I'll just keep you here for a bit until I have everything ready." Out of nowhere, a shadow comes for you, binding you in it. You start to feel drowsy. "We'll be so happy once more, I promise." Your vision starts to swirl into darkness, to the point you can't make him out anymore.

You fall asleep, unable to fight off the dreadful binds.

——————————————————

"My Queen~! Wake up! I have everything ready for you." You're nudged awake, as the binds come off you. You find yourself on a throne: cold and metal. As look forward, you are shocked to see a glowing chessboard just like the one you saw on the path. But also freaked out to see Strawberry and Gingerbrave tied up in the same binds, floating in the air.

"Wha- What is this?" You stammer, overwhelmed with all that has happened in the last few moments. Was this a joke? A jester terrorizing you and your friends, what a lovely day.

"Why, it is the moment you get to see your idiots crumble right before you by the hands of your rightful husband, me: Shadow Milk Cookie!" He comes over to you, putting a crown on your head. It was plain, just a metal crown with no jewels or anything else.

"And you're the queen! The most powerful one on the board!" He giggles, patting your hand. You tense at his touch, wanting to get away from this glorified position you were in. But time and time again, you can't move away from your spot. It's as if you were hardened glue stuck to a label that no one can seem to pry off.

"I don't know what reincarnation you talked about before, but whatever it is, stop it! My friends have done nothing! I don't even know who you are!" You plead, wanting his weird reincarnation thing to stop. You felt guilty for thinking of touching a moving chess piece in Beast Yeast. Gingerbrave was right: everything is dangerous.

"Honey..." Shadow Milk frowned, holding your face in his hands. He looked disappointed rather than enraged. "I know your memories are somewhat faded, but those cookies are distracting you. Distracting you from me, your beloved." He lightly bumps his face against yours, staring into your eyes.

"What do they have to do anything with your dead lover?" You ask, a little too harshly, but needing to get the message across.

He gasps. "They aren't dead! They're right before me!" He puts his jester hat on his head, going over to Gingerbrave and Strawberry. He glares at them briefly with his dual-chromed eyes before returning to you.

"Just let me. Just let me kill them." He hisses with a grin. His eyes scare you, the way they're wide open with insanity. "I need some desperate alone time with you and also get our marriage decided once more." Shadows started to succumb to the world, except for the light from the board.

"No! Don't you dare!" You shake your head, unwilling to let him get away with this. Your poor friends. Just what kind of madness did you pull them into?

"My Queen! When will you let me kill them? They are insignificant to our love!" He exclaims, reaching a hand out to you.

Oh, what a devoted lover isn't he? Waiting for eons for you only for you to be so disgusted with him.

——————————————————

This was really fun to write. Now, I’m not quite caught up on the lore yet. I just read his profile and said fuck yeah so…mhm.

I will say, I didn’t go exactly chloroform, but the same aspect of it with his magic.

I used honey cuz I was like “Old. But also insane. Equals honey.”

Alright I’m gonna go do homework now because I’ve neglected other work (APRIL AND MAY IS HELL FOR MEEE)

- Celina

#cookie run #yandere cookie run #cookie run x reader #cookie run kingdom #yandere #yandere x reader #crk x reader #crk #yandere shadow milk #yandere shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie x reader #yandere shadow milk cookie x reader

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pariahsparadise · 4 months

Note

Can we get an enemies to lovers with JJ Maybank x gn!reader-

JJ and reader just annoy the hell out of each other, but maybe A gets into a fight and B decides to patch them up. They end up confessing to each other. <3

nav. | m.list

a/n: i haven't written in over a year, maybe two. this is completely unedited and also not proofread AT ALL. sorry this is so late and so shitty, anon from april 2023.

pairings: jj maybank x gn!reader

wc: 1.3k

"What are you doing here?"

JJ starts, and is immediately punished by the pang of pain that rushes through his body. He pretends not to notice how your eyes glance over him, analytical, filing away every sign of weakness. He hates being vulnerable, especially when it's in front of you, but he doesn't exactly have a choice.

"Can I come in?" he asks, instead of answering your question. Wordlessly, you step aside, letting him walk past you before closing the door softly.

"Bedroom," you tell him, your tone gentler now. He wishes that's how you always talked to him. "I'll go get the first-aid kit."

JJ nods and finds his way to your bedroom, passing the framed certificates and shelves that adorn the hallway, filled with stacks of trophies and medals that you amassed over the years. Although he usually makes fun of you for being such a nerd all the time, the gold is a stark reminder of how you're actually extremely intelligent. You're worth something. Unlike him.

Maybe his issue with you has always been jealousy. Jealous that you've managed to achieve so much for a Pogue, despite having had the same opportunities as him. But it's more likely that he hates you because you're so icy, rational in your arguments, your words always so polished as they slice into him, cutting him down. He can see the judgement in your eyes when he smokes weed or drinks in front of you, when he cracks a stupid joke about the brunette he had in his bed the other day. He can feel the contempt in the insults you hiss at him when he goes too far and pisses you off completely.

But despite it all, he hates that he still wants to win your approval. That he wishes you would let him make you laugh like John B does, or sling an easy arm around you the way Kiara can.

He sits on your chair when you gesture for him to, placing the medical kit on the table next to it. JJ finally takes the time to focus his eyes on you, glancing over your white night shirt and impossibly short shorts. He feels a pang in his chest. There are dark circles under your eyes, and your hair is all messy. He obviously woke you up from some much-needed sleep. If he plans to win you over, which would already be extremely hard at this point, this would definitely be another set-back. Based on his past experiences, you're not particularly kind when you're sleep-deprived.

Which is why he's surprised when you begin cleaning his bleeding knuckles with the kindest touch in the world. The warm cloth is not nearly as comforting as the feel of your palm on his skin is, and he represses the urge to sigh.

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" you ask him, moving on to apply some antiseptic to his cuts.

"Why should I tell you anything?" JJ asks, attacking you unthinkingly, reverting to his natural state of being in conflict with you. You stay uncharacteristically quiet, not responding to his taunt, and after standing still for a second, you go back to cleaning his knuckles.

Fuck. JJ's eyes fall shut, and he groans inwardly. Here you are, having let him into your home and bedroom, cleaning his injuries, and he's still being a dick to you.

"I'm sorry, I-" he suddenly gets cut off by your hands cradling his jaw, lifting his face up. JJ nearly gasps, and flushes out of his embarrassment when he sees your raised eyebrow, knowing you caught his reaction.

"Well, I was just going to apply some cream to the bruises forming here," you say, and you trail your fingers along his jaw, "but if it's such a problem, maybe I-"

"It's not a problem," JJ says, too quickly.

Without another word, and only the sliver of a self-satisfied smile, you treat his jaw and face.

JJ has always known he loves being the center of your attention. He revels in it, the way you glare at him after he provokes you, the way you yell when he steals your book. He loves being the only thing on your mind. But sitting here now, feeling your thumbs smooth along his cheekbones and your soft gaze, he knows there's most definitely a better way to receive it.

"What happened?" you ask again, and this time he tells you. Some tourists had been disrespectful to Kiara's parents at their restaurant, and it escalated to a fist fight between Kiara's dad and JJ and four other guys. The tourists must have had some level of common sense, because they more or less went easier on Kiara's dad, laying harder into JJ to make up for it.

"Assholes," you say when he's finished, barely concealed rage in your eyes as you appraise JJ and the injuries on his body with new context.

"It's fine, really," JJ reassures you, standing up. "Thanks for cleaning me up, but I should be on my way now-"

"Sit the fuck down." you spit at him, and he drops back into the chair with astonishing speed. "Take off your shirt. That fight was practically four-on-one, I'm not going to believe that you walked away with just grazed knuckles and a few bruises to your face."

Hesitantly, JJ removes his shirt. To your credit, you don't audibly react to the massive craters in his skin, colouring him in shades of ugly red and purple. Your eyes widen slightly, and after a few long seconds, you're back to normal and treating him with the same gentleness as before.

"Thank you for this," he says, more earnestly this time. You let out a hum in response, too busy doing your best to alleviate his pain. He goes on, "I mean it. You didn't have to do this, and I appreciate it."

You let out a sigh, raising your eyes to his face, "Of course I had to do this, JJ, it's the decent thing to do. I wasn't going to turn you away in the middle of the night, not in the condition you're in."

"Even if you think I'm some heartless bitch," you add, a moment later.

"I don't think that," JJ says, earning a scoff from you.

"Right," you mutter, straightening up and away from him. You pack the materials back into the kit and shut it with a loud snap, which is when JJ realises that you're done treating him. He puts his shirt back on and gets ready to make his exit when you stop him, again.

"Just sleep here tonight," you tell him, gesturing at your bed.

"What-no. Where will you sleep?"

"The couch." You don't even let him say two words of protest before immediately cutting him off, "Don't be obstinate. It's too uncomfortable there for you, especially considering the state of your torso, it's too late for you to walk back home or call someone to pick you up, so you'll stay here. I'll text John B to pick you up in the morning."

JJ listens to all this, taken aback by the amount of thought you've put into taking care of him. He scans your face, noting with surprise that your cheeks pink slightly when you make eye contact with him.

"What?" you say, a little flustered. He just laughs quietly, "Nothing. Just didn't realise you cared about me so much, 's all."

"Again, not a heartless bitch. Of course I care about you."

And just like that, there's a tectonic shift. The two of you are relatively unchanged, but there's this unspoken understanding that passes between you. It's the reason why you're able to press a soft kiss to an unblemished part of JJ's cheek before you slip out of the room, and why he's able to put his arm around you late one night when the whole group is hanging out at the Chateau.

He can't help but feel that the beating was worth it, really.

#woah that's a shitty ending #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fluff #jj obx #obx #outer banks #outer banks ff #outer banks fanfiction #obx imagine #jj maybank x fem!reader #jj maybank x male!reader #jj maybank #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #outer banks imagine

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sinimake · 4 months

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Now, it's Johnny specific headcanons! Read Kenshi's here

Took a gap year to earn his college funds, but when he got accepted into a film school, his family wanted him to sign up for the army. So one morning, he just went out, took an interstate bus, and started living on his own.

He worked many menial works here and there, barely surviving, so he started to enter underground cage fights in the night for quick bucks. The first time he got in the ring and the announcer asked for his name, he chose Johnny Cage on a whim.

His college years were wild. Almost always drunk every night bc he's landed a job as a bartender in a local bar. Alcohol is conveniently within arms reach and is an effective painkiller to the punches he took in the ring fights. That's when his addiction started.

He got his Johnny tattoo when he was shit faced and sad. He desperately wanted to shed Johnathan Carlton name off himself, so he marched into a tattoo parlor to have a permanent reminder on his chest. People think he's narcissistic to have his name tattooed so big on his body, Johnny never corrects the meaning of it bc it is better to be seen as an asshole than weak.

One really good perk of his bartender job was talking to the patrons and hearing their life stories. It really helped Johnny's acting career in the long run, where he understands his roles deeply and delivers the portrayals from heart.

He got a golden raspberry award for his The Flesh Pits movie. Threw the tropy out of the window once in anger but now he displays it along with his other achievement awards as a reminder.

He's an ambassador of many luxury brands.

He's very timely organized person where he plans his days down to every hour. Hates when there's a sudden change in his timetable.

When Johnny and Kenshi have a movie night, not only does he narrate what's happening in the scene, but he nerds out on what exact techniques of shots and lighting are used.

A big car enthusiast. Gives his cars the names that are in Mambo No. 5 by Lou Bega. (A little bit of Monica in my life—)

Snores in his sleep, specially when he's really exhausted.

His music taste is mainly girly pop, but sometimes he belts out on old school rock songs.

Loves improv acting. Sometimes, he drops in at random improv club nights to participate in one or two sets. It is always fun to see the crowd going "is that Johnny Cage? THE Johnny Cage?" whenever he goes on the stage.

A serial double texter. Will send you random ass pictures with no context or whatever. It is especially funny bc Kenshi can't see the pics, and the voice-over feature of his phone gives him the most obscure descriptions that have the man facepalming every time.

Is a big coffee guy but always gotta have them with milk and sugar bc he can't handle bitter taste of americano.

Has love and hate relationship with paparazzi cameramen. When he's out with the earthrealm defenders, his friends sometimes get the feeling of being followed. They say the concern to Johnny, thinking some outworld danger is hunting them or something just for the actor go "no worries that's just my regular paparazzi, Jeff. HI JEFF!! HOW YOU BEEN DOING TODAY?" "I'm fine! How about you, Johnny?", "WOULD YOU LIKE SOME COFFEE? IS HOT OUTSIDE!" "yeah."

^then sometimes it's like this: "CAN YOU GIVE ME A BREATHER FOR A SEC?! YOUR CAMERA CLICKING IS SO LOUD!" "MY RENT IS DUE!" "NOT MY PROBLEM!"

He's an ambivert. Quiet night ins are as much appreciated as parties. He needs winding down moments but will go batshit insane if he doesn't get at least one human interaction a day.

#johnny cage #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 2023 #johnny cage headcanons #johnshi #johnshi headcanon

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wigglywormy · 14 days

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blurred lines, sharp twine [bakugou/deku, 5.6k, nsfw]

okay. so I haven't written a fic in over 5 years!! can y'all believe that? i used to be so active on this blog, pumping out fics day and night, but life got busy and before I knew it over 5 years have passed omg.

of course my first fic back would be something like this lol. this was written for @wreckingtickles who shares my undying love for bakugou getting absolutely destroyed. they prompted me with a fic featuring bakugou's stirrup leggings and that kinda spiraled into this huge monster of a fic.

please enjoy 8) (also i made an ao3 to cross-post my tickle fics on!)

warnings: nsfw, feet, intense tickling, bondage, veryyyy slight dub-con, minors DNI.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but he definitely doesn’t really try to hide the fact that he’s a little on the strange side. He knows he’s a gigantic nerd (he’s thoroughly reminded of that fact by Bakugou everyday), he knows he’s a little awkward, and he knows he’s maybe even a little bit of a freak. But, through the years of trauma, war, violence, and near-death, he’s come to accept that life is much too short to deny who you are.

Moving in with Bakugou after graduation was something Izuku didn’t even have to think about. Bakugou set up a few apartment viewings, and it went completely unsaid that the smartest decision for both of them would be to stick together. Roommates equaled cheaper rent, and since they both were working under the same agency it was easy to align their schedules. Normally they patrol together (the Wonder Due didn’t get its name for nothing), but occasionally - especially lately - Bakugou has been picking up more shifts than usual.

Izuku can’t help but notice how tired Bakugou has been lately, especially tonight, coming home from his 9th day in a row of patrol. The door closes softly behind him - he must think Izuku’s asleep already as it’s around two in the morning, and Izuku turns slightly from his position curled up on the couch to watch Bakugou toe his boots off. He’s already changed out of his hero uniform, clad in only his leggings and a soft, worn looking hoodie that Izuku’s pretty sure belongs to him.

Bakugou leans his head against the wall in the foyer for a brief moment, sighing deeply, and Izuku’s heart aches at the noise.

“Late night?” Izuku asks, closing his book and setting it on the coffee table.

Bakugou jumps. “Jesus - shit, you scared the fuck outta me.”

“Sorry,” Izuku murmurs, a slight smile on his face.

“The fuck are you still doing up?” Bakugou grumbles, finally making his way over to sprawl on the opposite end of the couch, sinking into the cushions with a grunt.

Izuku shrugs. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Which, technically isn’t a lie, but. Still. Even when he lays in his bed at night during one of Bakugou’s shifts that he’s not partnered on, he finds himself teetering between sleep and wakefulness as he listens carefully for the front door to open and shut, signaling Bakugou has gotten home safe for the night. Codependency wasn’t something Izuku was planning on adopting after the war, but his heart just can’t seem to relax if he doesn’t know that Bakugou is home and safe. Breathing. Alive.

Normally it’s fine, but since Bakugou has been working himself to death the past few weeks, Izuku’s own sleep schedule has taken a toll.

Bakugou doesn’t look bloodied or bruised now, though, which is a good sign.

“I thought your shift ended at midnight?” Izuku asks, his eyes unconsciously skimming over Bakugou’s exhausted body as he slumps further down into the cushions. He folds his arms over his chest, burrowing into the oversized borrowed hoodie, and Izuku smiles because Bakugou is so loud and brash, but right now, here and safe at home, he allows himself to be soft with Izuku.

“It was supposed to,” Bakugou grumbles, rubbing a hand over his face. “One of the interns got caught up in a stupid bank robbery and ended up with a fuckin’ concussion, so I stayed late to help finish up some of his paperwork.”

“That’s sweet of you, Kacchan,” Izuku teases, and Bakugou rolls his eyes, stretching his legs out to rest in Izuku’s lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugou says, voice tense with exhaustion, “I’m a fuckin’ saint.”

Izuku let’s his hands fall onto Bakugou’s ankles, rubbing gently with his thumbs, and he swallows heavily as his eyes trail down Bakugou’s body, the black leggings hugging his muscles tightly, all the way down to the thin straps holding the stirrups along the arches of his feet.

Izuku wouldn’t openly call himself a weird guy, but shit, that’s another thing about moving in with Bakugou after graduation. Getting to see all of these new and exciting sides of him; tense and angry and bloody after a fight, soft and exhausted after a long boring shift, sleepy and comfortable on his day off.

But the damn stirrup leggings have Izuku trying desperately hard not to act up.

“Do you - uh, want a foot rub or something?” Izuku blurts out, his thumb pressing into the bone of Bakugou’s ankle.

Bakugou’s eyes narrow, and Izuku offers a small nervous smile, trying not to seem as if he’s too interested. He just wants to help his friend relax, okay? Nothing weird about that. It’s not like they haven’t massaged each other before after a long day of hero work. Bakugou’s great with his hands, and Izuku’s arms and shoulders get knotted up so tightly after hours of using his quirk.

Bakugou still has smudges of dark eyeliner around his eyes since he hasn’t washed his face yet since patrol, and it makes his gaze piercing in the low light of the living room. He’s quiet for a moment, contemplative, before shrugging eventually and folding his arms across his chest.

“Fuck it, I ain’t gonna say no to a free foot massage,” He shrugs, “Lemme take these stupid fuckin’ leggings off first - ”

“No!” Izuku blurts out, and he chuckles awkwardly as his grip tightens on Bakugou’s ankles. “I mean - um. You don’t have to, it’s fine.”

This time, Bakugou looks… curious, which is the only way Izuku can describe his gaze. He bites his lip a bit as he thinks, and when he wiggles his toes a bit, Izuku feels warmth pooling low in his belly. Bakugou’s feet are surprisingly slender, his arch defined beautifully, ideal for someone who has to be quick on their feet. His toes are slightly pink, as are the soles of his feet, and they look soft from being in his boots all day. Izuku swallows thickly, but god, he just wants to touch.

Is he into feet? Who knows, maybe, he honestly hasn’t thought too much about it until recently. Maybe he’s just into Bakugou’s feet? When Bakugou wiggles his toes again, Izuku finally glances up and catches his gaze.

“Well? What’re you waitin’ for,” Bakugou says, his voice softer than it’s been all night.

Izuku’s hands are large, tan, and calloused - a stark contrast against Bakugou’s pale skin, and at the fist press of his thumbs into the arch, Bakugou exhales quickly through his nose, body sinking further into the couch.

It’s a little difficult to massage his feet with the strap from his stirrups hugging his arches, but at this moment in time Izuku would rather die than ask Bakugou to take them off. He moves over to just one foot, pressing both thumbs into the heel of his foot, and he slowly works his way up, calluses catching onto the legging strap as he moves upwards.

“Did the bank robber get caught?” Izuku asks, hands firm but delicate, watching as Bakugou’s toes twitch when he digs in beneath them.

“What?” Bakugou replies, blinking his eyes open where they’ve fallen shut. “The - oh, shit. Yeah. Sero was actually patrolling nearby so he got him while I took the dumbass intern to medical.”

“Don’t be so mean,” Izuku chuckles, “We were dumbass interns once, too.”

“Interns, yes. Dumbass? No,” Bakugou shoots back, but then he smirks. “Well, I wasn’t a dumbass. Can’t say the same about you, nerd.”

Izuku rolls his eyes, and he can’t help it when his touch softens, hooking a finger underneath the stirrup strap to graze his nail along the delicate arch.

The reaction is instant - Bakugou inhales sharply and twitches, looking ready to pull his leg back, but Izuku holds onto the strap, preventing him from moving away.

“Deku,” Bakugou growls, and to everyone else on this planet, the expression on his face would scream angry, sharp, intimidating.

But Izuku’s known him since they were kids. Izuku can read him like a damn book, and right now underneath that glare, Bakugou looks nervous.

Izuku keeps his touch soft, one finger hooked into the stirrup strap, while his other hand grazes right beneath the blonde’s toes. His foot twitches again, his toes curling up tightly, and the only word that comes to Izuku’s mind is cute. His feet are cute, and apparently sensitive, and Izuku has no idea what monster has taken over his brain but all he wants to do right now is see Bakugou squirm.

He might be dipping into dangerous territory, but ever since they moved in together, Bakugou’s been much more open to physical touch. It almost feels like a game they’ve been playing, dancing around each other but never going to a place they can’t return from. They’ve fallen asleep cuddling on the couch. They’ve spent quiet days off with Izuku’s head in Bakugou’s lap, the blonde idly playing with his hair while they watch old reruns of All Might movies together. They’ve even spent a few nights together in bed, holding each other close when the nightmares creep up every few weeks.

But this? This might be a place they can’t return from. Izuku’s not sure what Bakugou’s feeling right now, but the lines are so incredibly blurred in this moment, and Bakugou’s cheeks are steadily turning pink, and Izuku knows he could pull away if he really, really tried.

But he’s not. He’s staying put, fingers clenched into the cushions of the couch, eyeing Izuku warily.

“You know,” Izuku says idly, moving one hand to grip Bakugou’s ankle, the other hand trailing his fingers up and down, up and down, so soft it’s barely there. “You used to be so mean when we were kids, holding me down and tickling me until I cried.”

At the word - tickling - Bakugou audibly swallows. “Not my fault you were so damn ticklish, idiot.”

“I could never really get you back because you were so much stronger than me,” Izuku muses.

“It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, I’m not fuckin’ ticklish,” Bakugou replies. His voice sounds sure and steady, but his eyes keep flickering down to where Izuku is still stroking up and down his sole. He’s tense, and Izuku can feel it - Bakugou’s trying so hard not to move, not to give himself away.

Izuku laughs quietly to himself. Of course Bakugou would see this as a challenge to himself.

“Of course you’re not ticklish, Kacchan,” Izuku says, “Maybe if you keep telling yourself that, it might actually come true.”

“It is true, you little shit - ah!”

He squeaks, his breath hitching, when Izuku flutters his fingers under his toes again. His other leg, the one Izuku isn’t holding by the ankle, jerks back, and Izuku thinks no, we can’t have that now, before tendrils of black whip shoot out, pulling his other leg back and twisting around the ankle.

“Okay, now that’s completely fuckin’ unfair,” Bakugou grunts, trying to sound unaffected, but this time Izuku can hear the shake in his voice. “The hell are you tryin’ do here, Deku?”

“Nothing,” Izuku says, a few more tendrils of black whip emerging to wrap around his other ankle so both of Izuku’s hands are free now.

“You call this nothing?” Bakugou tugs at his feet a bit, and black whip tightens to keep him in place.

Izuku ignores him. “I thought you weren’t ticklish?”

Bakugou frowns. “I’m not.”

“Then this is nothing,” Izuku teases, finally wiggling his fingers in earnest over both of Bakugou’s feet, now bound in his lap for him to do with as he pleases. The thought has his stomach flipping, molten lava settling low in his gut, and he can’t help his dick twitching in interest.

Bakugou’s reaction is beautiful, finally a small huff of laughter escaping him as he wiggles his feet as much as he can with black whip holding his ankles down. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands, and they keep alternating from clutching at the cushion beneath him to hovering in the air as if he’s fighting his instinct of reaching down and showing Izuku away. His eyes are averting, as if the thought of watching Izuku tickle him is too much, and oh, he’s so cute.

Izuku’s feeling a little nice at the moment, but Bakugou’s fighting his laughter, and Izuku wants to hear him, so he moves his fingers up, scratching underneath his toes. Bakugou does laugh this time, covering his mouth with one hand in surprise as the sound escapes him. His toes curl, trying to block Izuku’s fingers, and a few more tendrils of black whip slither out and wrap around each of his toes, effectively prying them back so Izuku’s fingers can burrow into the soft, sensitive flesh there.

“Wait - no, Deku - ah, ahah.” His laughter is light and staccato, little gasps in between his growls as he covers his mouth with both hands now, muffling himself as his eyes squint in mirth. Once again, he could get Izuku to stop if he really wanted to, but besides the tugging and squirming of his bound feet, he’s not doing much else to get away.

That thought intrigues Izuku, and his confidence grows as he scratches in between his toes, pulled back and vulnerable thanks to black whip.

“I always thought your feet might be sensitive, you know, with how much you sweat and stuff,” Izuku muses, gears turning in his head as he makes mental notes on where Bakugou seems to react the most to. Underneath his toes seems much more ticklish than between them, but the arch of his sole seems equally as sensitive, especially when he pulls back one of the stirrup straps and rakes all five fingers up and down.

Bakugou gasps. “Y-you’re a d-dick,” he growls, but the words melt into laughter as Izuku does the same thing to his other foot before letting the strap go with a snap.

He gives Bakugou a moment to breathe, and the blonde finally lowers his hands from his mouth. His face is extremely flushed now, and he’s looking at Izuku with a mix of murderous intent and… want?

“Still not ticklish?” Izuku murmurs, rubbing his palms over Bakugou’s soles. The blonde twitches again, tensing, before relaxing when Izuku just rubs firmly, soothing.

“Once again - you’re a dick,” he grumbles.

“And you’re ticklish,” Izuku teases back, scratching his nails up the sides of Bakugou’s feet this time before making their way back to the soft, pink skin right beneath his toes.

“Don’t - Deku, st-stop! It f-fuckin’ - ”

“It what?” Izuku’s feeling mean now, and having Bakugou squirming because of him has his dick hardening more in his sweats. “It tickles?”

“I - I c-can’t - ahahaha!”

“You’re so strong, you can take it, can’t you?” And oh, Izuku’s playing dirty, because there’s nothing Bakugou hates than being told he can’t do something, and if he admits he can’t take the tickling, it’d be the same as admitting defeat, and Bakugou Katsuki is not someone who’s ever been defeated.

Although, Izuku thinks, watching as Bakugou covers his mouth again and squeezes his eyes shut, tickling might just be the key to finally defeating this man.

Izuku doesn’t like how muffled he sounds, though, so he uses more of black whip to sneakily slide up and twist around Bakugou’s wrists, tugging them away from his face. A few tendrils slip up his arms and slide underneath the sleeves of his hoodie, and Bakugou’s expression turns to panic.

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare,” He hisses, but his lips are still twitching on a smile which ruins the intimidation of it. “This is an awful fuckin’ use of your quirk - ”

“So was last week, with yours,” Izuku interrupts, “when you were too lazy to microwave the popcorn and tried to just explode it instead.” Izuku laughs, remembering how long it took them to fish out all of the popcorn kernels from every single crevice in the living room.

“At least that was for a good reason!” Bakugou protests, squirming when the tendrils of black whip slip higher into his sleeves, nearly grazing his underarms now. His breathing is short, body tensed and mouth turned down in a pout.

“You’re saying this isn’t a good reason?”

“What, so fuckin’ torturing me is a good reason to abuse your quirk?”

“It’s torture?” Izuku murmurs. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

If Bakugou’s face could get any pinker, it would, and he bites his lip hard when Izuku wiggles black whip into the hollows of his underarms, keeping it light and feathery. Bakugou can’t hold out for long, though, and soon he’s gasping on a laugh and wriggling as much as he can in the hold Izuku has him in.

This time though, Izuku fails to notice Bakugou’s feet squirming aggressively, and Izuku freezes and gasps when the blonde’s bound feet nudge against the very obvious hard-on in his sweats.

Izuku swallows, his hands darting down to grab a hold of Bakugou’s feet. His toes are still tied back with black whip, and Izuku resists the urge to brush his fingers along the skin because something is unraveling inside of him and having Bakugou like this is quickly becoming addicting. Instead, he ducks his head, words escaping him as he opens his mouth but not coming up with anything to say.

A few seconds pass, Izuku preparing himself mentally for an explosion to blast him away or for disgusted yelling and screaming to occur. He’s already mentally drafting the text to Todoroki to ask if he can move in with him when Bakugou inevitably kicks him out once he’s freed.

A beat passes. One. Two. The silence is deafening, and Izuku finally manages to raise his eyes up to glance at Bakugou, surprised at the curious expression painted there. Bakugou nudges his heels gently against Izuku’s dick again, and Izuku hisses and bites his lip, apologies already spilling from his mouth,

“I’m s-sorry, shit, um - ”

“I should’ve fuckin’ known you’d be into something weird like this,” Bakugou says lowly, tilting his head a bit, almost like a cat analyzing it’s prey. “You’re a little freak, ain’t ya?”

The words should be harsh and piercing, but Bakugou sounds like he’s…. teasing him. And not in the mean, bullying way that Izuku was expecting. Their eyes meet, and Izuku sees a small hint of a smirk when Bakugou presses his heels in harder, wiggling against Izuku’s clothed cock as much as he can in his restraints.

“Kacchan - ah,” Izuku sighs, cheeks burning. “What’re you - ”

“What is it you like about it, huh?” Bakugou asks, his voice low.

Izuku’s head feels like it’s going to explode. “I don’t… I don’t know? I didn’t even - I mean… I like….”

Bakugou raises an eyebrow. His arms are still held tightly with black whip, the tendrils under his arms twitch when Izuku stutters, making Bakugou squeak quietly and jerk in his hold. That has Izuku’s eyes darkening again, and Bakugou still hasn’t blasted him away. If anything he’s egging him on, and Izuku’s mind races with what this might mean.

“I like… you,” Izuku starts off slowly.

“Me?” Bakugou questions, and if Izuku isn’t mistaken, there’s a twinge of something akin to hope in his voice.

“Yeah, you,” Izuku breathes, all rational thoughts thrown to the wayside now. “But I also like… having you, like this,” Izuku plays with the stirrup straps on Bakugou’s soles, fiddling with the fabric, breathing hard when Bakugou squirms each time his fingers graze the skin. “I like feeling you squirm. Hearing you laugh. Having you all… y’know, vulnerable for me?”

As he speaks, a few more tendrils of black whip slip under the front hem of Bakugou’s hoodie, slithering up and tapping away at his ribs. That has Bakugou giggling again, and god, Izuku loves his laugh. This is different from his normal laugh, it’s softer and hiccupy and the sound sends white-hot heat straight to his dick. Shit, could he come from this? Just from having Bakugou squirming and laughing and bound up like a perfect little present?

“Jesus - Izuku,” Bakugou laughs, rubbing his thighs together, and Izuku’s eyes widen when he sees a bulge in his leggings, now visible from where his hoodie has ridden up.

Izuku’s brain short-circuits then, and he’s now laser focused on the other boy, fingers moving almost mindlessly as they go back to scratching beneath sensitive toes. Izuku keeps his eyes on Bakugou’s face, his expressions, every twitch of his brow, and the blonde chokes on a laugh and ducks his head, trying to hide his face since Izuku has his arms pulled aside.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku asks, growing bolder the more Bakugou squirms.

“Fuck, oh my g-god, I d-dont - !”

Izuku moves finally, and though he keeps Bakugou bound with his quirk, he crawls up until he’s seated, straddling Bakugou’s thighs where they’re squeezed together, and now Izuku’s just a nudge away from Bakugou’s own obvious arousal.

“You don’t like it?” Izuku says, and this time, he withdraws black whip from underneath Bakugou’s hoodie, instead sliding his own hands beneath the fabric to touch bare skin. His hands are warm and large, fingers curling gently over Bakugou’s deliciously tapered waist, and though he doesn’t do anything yet, Bakugou’s shifting and squirming beneath him already.

Bakugou’s eyes meet Izuku’s finally, and when Izuku flicks his gaze down to Bakugou’s cock, hard as a rock in his leggings, Bakugou groans and ducks his head again.

“It’s not - I don’t know!” Bakugou breathes out, frustration clear in his voice. “You’re just - fuck, it’s weird.”

“It’s not that weird, Kacchan,” Izuku murmurs, and Bakugou tugs helplessly at his arms again. Izuku hums, pulling his arms with black whip until his wrists are crossed, and then slowly - absolutely mean - he lifts Bakugou’s arms up and back until his elbows are bent, bound hands pulled behind his head and forcing Bakugou to lean back more into the arm of the couch. Izuku slides further up, straddling Bakugou’s thighs until their clothed cocks finally brush, and Bakugou breathes out a shaky noise.

“It’s okay,” Izuku breathes.

“Let me go,” Bakugou grumbles, but his eyes are averted, blush high on his cheeks, teeth gnawing at his lower lip nervously. And wow, having Bakugou nervous, beneath him where Izuku can feel the heat radiating off of his body, has Izuku grinding forward, rubbing their dicks together firmly.

Bakugou instinctively tries to buck his hips up, but with the way he’s bound up, he can’t get too much leverage. Once again, he’s still not blasting Izuku off into the sun with his own quirk, so Izuku drums his fingers against Bakugou’s bare sides, drawing little circles with his thumbs right beneath his ribs.

“Ah - ” Bakugou hiccups on another strained giggle, and Izuku grins at him sharply.

“What do you like about it?” Izuku repeats, tickling oh-so-gently, because now that he has his hands touching him, he can’t stop. He can feel every hitch of breath, can feel his body tremble with restrained laughter, and there’s definitely no going back from here.

When Bakugou doesn’t respond, Izuku creeps his hands higher, towards the upper part of his ribs. His hoodie is bunched up completely now, and although Izuku would love to remove the damn piece of clothing, he’s scared if he lets Bakugou go now, this electric bubble they’re both in will pop and Izuku will have missed his chance completely.

He grinds against Bakugou again, while at the same time finally digging into his ribs, and the explosive laughter that Bakugou lets out has Izuku groaning out loud.

“Okay - okahahay! Fuck!” Bakugou yelps, taking a breath when Izuku’s fingers finally pause. “I - fuck, I don’t know. I like… how it feels, not being… not being able to move or some shit, I guess.”

Bakugou looks like he’d rather die than tell Izuku all of this, but Izuku’s already gotten this far, and there’s nothing that would ever make him stop now. The blurred line is now vanished completely, and Izuku murmurs quietly,

“You like being tied up, Kacchan?”

Bakugou frowns, glaring at him, but doesn’t respond.

Izuku continues, smirking. “You like being tied up by me?”

Bakugou squirms a bit, staying defiantly silent.

“You like being tickled like this? Helpless, vulnerable, letting me do whatever I want to you while you can’t do anything to stop it?” Izuku has no idea where this filthy mouth of his came from, but he takes this newfound confidence and harnesses it, slipping a hand down to cup Bakugou through his leggings and squeeze.

“Nn - fuck,” Bakugou pants. “No, you asshole, I don’t like being tickled - ”

“I disagree,” Izuku says, and this time when he pinches at Bakugou’s ribs, he can feel Bakugou’s cock jump beneath his hand as the blonde gasps out a laugh. “I actually think you really like it.”

“Just - when it’s you,” Bakugou finally gasps out, giggling softly as Izuku crawls his hand higher. His words give Izuku pause, Izuku’s heart beating rapidly in his chest because oh. Okay. Just when it’s him? Because it’s him?

Oh.

“Kacchan,” Izuku breathes, a magnetic pull tugging at his chest until he’s ducking down and kissing the laughter right out of Bakugou’s mouth. The blonde moans, tilting his head to the side to kiss him deeper, and Izuku happily licks into his mouth, chasing the feeling of god, fuck, finally.

Bakugou jerks his head to the side though when Izuku’s hand creeps higher, fluttering dangerous fingers into his underarm, and he yelps on a laugh, squirming and bucking up into Izuku’s other hand still kneading at his dick.

“Oh my god,” Bakugou giggles, shaking his head back and forth, and Izuku takes a moment to duck lower and kiss his neck, licking up beneath his jaw, biting gently right under his ear. That has Bakugou squeaking again, and Izuku moans as he feels the blonde tremble against him.

“God, you’re so cute,” Izuku moans in disbelief. “How can you be so hot and cute at the same time?”

“Y-you should be - ah, ahaha - asking yourself th-that - fuck, Izuku, I cahahan’t!”

Izuku stops tickling him for a moment and grins. “You think I’m hot and cute?”

“Not right now, while you’re ti - ,” Bakugou cuts himself off with an embarrassed grunt, not even able to say the actual word, and Izuku takes note of that happily, “Also, fuck you, I’m not cute.”

Izuku doesn’t respond right away, instead opting for shoving Bakugou’s leggings down so they’re bunched around his thighs, freeing his dick, before settling back up where he was seated before. He pulls his own cock out of his sweats, and when he wraps a large, calloused hand around them both and strokes, squeezing perfectly tight, Bakugou throws his head back and moans.

Tendrils of black whip slide down his legs where his feet are still tightly held in place, and as they flutter and scratch beneath his toes more intensely this time, Bakugou actually lets out a small sob, his eyes tearing up as he simultaneously tries to tug at his legs while also squirming up into Izuku’s hand on their cocks.

“You’re feet are so sensitive,” Izuku muses, his pupils so dark his eyes look black, and although Bakugou can’t really kiss him back while he’s laughing, that doesn’t stop Izuku from swallowing up every little noise he makes, lips spit-slick and panting against Bakugou’s mouth.

“Izu - Izuku, plehehease - ah, fuck, fuck,” He sounds like something straight out of one of Izuku’s wet dreams, and Izuku leans back again to stare at his face. Bakugou’s eyes are screwed up now, tears leaking out from the corners, and Izuku coos at him.

“Baby,” he says sweetly, “Is it too much?”

“Y-yes, I can’t - Izuku please.”

“I think you’re stronger than that. It’s just tickling,” Izuku teases. Bakugou’s cock is leaking, and it’s making the slide of Izuku’s hand on them both so, so good. Izuku brings out some more tendrils of black whip, sliding them right back underneath Bakugou’s hoodie to return to the warmth of his underarms, and Bakugou screams.

“It’s so - ahhaha, it’s t-too much,” Bakugou whines, his breathless giggling mixed with moans that sound as if they’re being punched out of him, and his body is strung tight, so tight Izuku can feel how close he is to breaking.

There’s something so incredibly sweet about taking Bakugou completely apart like this. Izuku pants and grinds into his own hand, squeezing and rubbing the head of his cock against the blonde’s, and while black whip continues tormenting Bakugou’s poor feet and underarms, Izuku’s own free hand comes up to grip Bakugou by the chin, forcing him to look at him, eyes blurry through his tears.

“Tell me how it feels,” he whispers, his lips just a breath away from Bakugou’s, feeling the warm desperate noises coming out of the boy’s mouth.

Izuku swipes his thumb over the head of Bakugou’s cock, his own arousal forgotten as he slips down to squeeze at the base tightly, preventing the blonde from actually coming. Bakugou makes a guttural, desperate noise, and Izuku’s grip tightens on his face, keeping him there, watching him.

Izuku’s quirk is nearly everywhere by now, black whip slithering beneath the leggings to stroke behind his knees, a few more tendrils brushing and tickling at his neck, and even more settled beneath his hoodie, prodding and digging and relentless. The fight has completely left Bakugou finally, and he’s slumped against the arm of the couch, body shaking and fighting the plethora of sensations that are overwhelming him.

“Hey,” Izuku laughs a bit, “Baby, c’mon. Tell me how it feels.”

It almost feels evil, watching as Bakugou tries to speak, to come with something, anything to get Izuku to - what, to stop tickling him? To keep tickling him? To stroke his dick again until he comes all over himself? Bakugou’s brain is mush, and Izuku revels in the desperation painted on the boy’s blushing face.

“It - fuck, it f-feels like torture,” Bakugou manages to gasp out, but he bucks his hip up when he feels black whip dig into the ticklish dip of his hip.

“You like being tortured, it seems,” Izuku points out as Bakugou’s cock leaks another bead of precome, so red and hard it’s nearly purple.

“No - ” Bakugou hiccups on his laughter, eyes widening when Izuku raises a brow,, “I mean - fine, shihihit - yes, yes, I like it, god fucking d-damnit Izuku!”

“Shh,” Izuku soothes, but he doesn’t release his hold at the base of Bakugou’s cock.

“Please,” Bakugou whines, and Izuku nearly comes when he realizes he has Bakugou exactly where he wants him.

“Please what?” Izuku releases Bakugou’s chin and his hand slips under the hoodie, pinching right at Bakugou’s top rib, a place Izuku’s learned makes him absolutely lose it.

“Pl-please let me - ah, ahaha fuhuhuck - please let me c-come!” Bakugou’s crying in earnest now, ducking his head down to press his forehead against the crook of Izuku’s neck, and Izuku’s heart leaps when the blonde bites down on Izuku’s shirt, trying to muffle his noises in the fabric.

It’s adorable, and Izuku sighs happily. “Of course, Kacchan.”

He grabs ahold of both of their cocks again, this time stroking in earnest, fast and quick. It doesn’t take more than a few pumps of his hand before Bakugou is crying out against Izuku’s neck, writhing beneath him as he comes, and Izuku keeps tickling him through it. The sensation is electric, Bakugou’s body fighting to distinguish between pleasure and torment, and Izuku groans loudly as he uses Bakugou’s come to stroke his own cock.

“St-stop,” Bakugou giggles, completely breathless, “Too - too f-fucking much - please - ”

Izuku ducks back down to kiss the sweet helpless laughter right out of his mouth, finally coming, his own come mixing with Bakugou’s between them. Izuku heaves a deep breath, slumping against Bakugou as black whip finally retracts, disappearing back into his body and releasing the blonde from their clutches.

It’s quiet for a moment, Bakugou’s arms having fallen limp at his sides, head still buried in Izuku’s neck as he catches his breath. When he shifts, flexing his legs a little, Izuku leans back, sitting up and brushing Bakugou’s hair back from his sweaty forehead.

“Holy fuck,” Bakugou manages, blinking leftover tears from his eyes. “You’re fuckin’ evil, you know that?”

Izuku giggles nervously, still riding the high of whatever the hell just happened between them. Bakugou finally lifts his arms, wrapping them around Izuku’s waist loosely, and Izuku’s heart flutters when Bakugou leans up to press a kiss to the corner of Izuku’s mouth.

“You liked it,” Izuku says, turning to kiss him properly, now able to happily lick into the warmth without Bakugou’s laughter hindering him.

“Fuck off,” Bakugou murmurs into his mouth. “So what if I did, huh?”

Izuku just hums, because that blurred line being gone means that now he can kiss Bakugou whenever he wants, and that thought has him grinning widely and winding his arms around Bakugou’s neck.

“Ew, no, don’t get your nasty jizz-hands in my hair!” Bakugou protests, and Izuku laughs out loud, pulling his arms back quickly.

“Shit - sorry, sorry! We should probably get cleaned up, huh? Your hoodie is covered in come.”

“Good thing it’s not my hoodie, then,” Bakugou smirks. His cheeks are still flushed, and Izuku rolls his eyes as he takes his come-covered hand and smacks it right into Bakugou’s cheek before darting off of him and running away like his life depends on it.

Bakugou shrieks and scrambles to chase after him, and Izuku’s laughter echoes happily through their apartment.

#bakudeku #dekubaku #bnha #bnha tickling #tickling #worm writes #tickle fic

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howlingday · 22 days

Note

Sun: Jaune, as a fellow bro, I will help you get laid. I swear on my life!

-One Week of Hijinks & Shenanigans later-

Sun: Never in my life have I ever thought that i'd meet someone with less game than Neptune.

Neptune, in the distance: FUCK YOU!

Jaune: I'm sorry...

Sun: See! This is what I'm talking about! You're so timid that not even the doms want a piece of you! Hands down, no woman is going to want ANYTHING to do with you.

Jaune: What if I don't want anything to do with girls?

Sun: ...

Neptune: ...Sun?

Sun: Sorry, I'm pretending I didn't hear that. (Takes a deep breath) Okay. Here's what you're gonna do. You're going to give me your scroll.

Jaune: (Hands over scroll) Okay?

Sun: Good. Now, I'm going to leave, and I'll be back sometime tomorrow morning.

Jaune: What?! But I can't get back to Beacon without my scroll!

Sun: Exactly. It's time you learned the way we learn to swim in Vacuo.

Jaune: How?

Sun: We're tossing you in the deep end. Later.

Jaune: Wait- (Shoved, Falls into crowd)

Sun: Let's go, Neptune.

Neptune: I... Er... (Sighs) Sorry, man.

Jaune: ...Guys?

--------------------------------------------------

Sun: Will you stop pacing? You're making me dizzy.

Neptune: Dude! Do you feel even the SLIGHTEST bit bad about what we did?!

Sun: Nah, not really. I mean, you're the one who's been walking back and forth since we got on the bullhead.

Neptune: No, I mean about how we ditched Jaune last night! I had to look Pyrrha in the eye and lie that I didn't know where he was, and that was only because I didn't know where he was!

Sun: Dude, he had to learn. Can you imagine having no game at 17?

Neptune: Yeah! Me!

PA: Now docking at Vale South Station.

Sun: ...Eh, you had some game. It was, like, nerd game, but it was still game. Jaune was more like-

Jaune: More like what?

Neptune: JAUNE! (Hugs) I was so worried about you! P-Please don't be mad at us!

Jaune: Er, i-it's okay, Neptune. I'm not mad at you. Just... disappointed.

Neptune: (Crying) That's even worse~!

Sun: Ugh... Great. You got Neptune going with the waterworks. Whatever, you get laid yet?

Jaune: No, not yet.

Sun: Motherf- DUDE! What, do I gotta toss you in a whorehouse to get you to man up?!

Jaune: No, not really. I found somebody else to help me with that.

Arslan: Hello, Sun.

Sun: Arslan? Hey, what's- GUH! (Falls over)

Arslan: That was for forcing this poor guy to sleep in the city overnight. If my team didn't get here last night, who knows what could've happened to him?!

Sun: He... asked us for help...

Arslan: Yeah, and I had to 'help' him after he was stuck with the results of your 'help'.

Neptune: Wait, you mean... You two...

Jaune: Oh, no. Arslan and her team just pitched in for the hotel room for the five of us. All she asked in return was me showing her around Beacon when we get there.

Arslan: Oh, that reminds me. (Grabs scroll) Thank you for your cooperation. Let's move team!

Neptune: (Team ABRN pass with glares) So... Lunch?

Sun: Y...Yeah...

#rwby #jaune arc #sun wukong #neptune vasilias #arslan altan

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vampzxi · 1 year

Text

𝚑𝚒𝚐𝚑 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕!𝚜𝚑𝚞𝚛𝚒 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗𝚜

another filler bc the shuriri fic is almost done! 😭 i’m sorry for the lag ive just had writers block. but i saw @inmyheadimobsessed ‘s post abt shuri being a silly jokester and that’s what inspired this :3

highschool!riri headcanons here!

taglist!: @letitias-fav @inmyheadimobsessed @pinkwright @abenomeiiii @generallysapphic @shuriszn @la-reine-insane @unknownpisces002 (ask to be added!) (sorry if i forgot you, just remind me!! i’m absent minded as fuck 😭)

academic

・❥・top of her class, obviously

・❥・probably tutors on the side

・❥・argues with teachers if they get something slightly incorrect

・❥・gets finished with her work early and bothers other people in class

・❥・gets in trouble for bothering people but everyone loves her stupid jokes

・❥・plays pranks on the teacher during test day

・❥・turns in her work late because she either forgets to or she’s too focused on making it perfect

・❥・hates group work and always bribes her partners into just letting them doing it herself so they get a good grade

・❥・mutters to herself while working, slightly pissing off the people around her

・❥・favorite subject is science and she wastes class time by ranting to her teacher about science

・❥・spends more time at school than she does at home

・❥・huge procrastinator

・❥・messy notes

・❥・doesn’t show her work, much to the dismay of her teachers

・❥・doesn’t bother to raise her hand in class

・❥・willingly shares her notes with anyone…for a price of course

social

・❥・jokester, rarely takes anything seriously unless it’s about her schoolwork

・❥・chronic class skipper, only attends if she feels it’s necessary

・❥・dabbles in the za 🍃 but not a stoner. just in social situations really

・❥・hopeless romantic but very awkward. she’ll gush to her friends about a girl but clam up when she actually talks to her crush

・❥・makes sex jokes. a lot. maybe too much.

・❥・has a burner tiktok account where she trolls people

・❥・loves parties but gets overstimulated really quickly

・❥・loves kids and will babysit for anyone. she makes little trinkets for each of the kids she watches

・❥・robotics club team captain

・❥・terrible at sports but loves to run. tried track and field in her freshman year

・❥・throws on sweatpants or a tracksuit whenever she wakes up

・❥・refuses to eat school lunch, will go off-campus with riri to eat

・❥・does everything with riri, literally attached to the hip

・❥・cat lover

・❥・video game nerd, favorite games include mortal kombat and smash bros

・❥・fidgeter

・❥・dislikes traditionally girly things, but loves jewelry and chains

・❥・guilty pleasure is hyper-pop music, but will deny it if anyone asks

romantic

・❥・if you do have a crush on her, good luck, bc she’ll be too oblivious to notice ☠️

・❥・her love language is touch, she’ll absentmindedly fidget with your hair or tap her fingers on your leg

・❥・knarly morning breath.

・❥・cant cook for shit so she relies on you for food

・❥・favorite date place is escape rooms or fairs/arcades

・❥・terrible road rage, so you’re usually in charge of transportation ☠️

・❥・leaves cute notes in your locker or texts them to you through the day

・❥・will blow your phone up with memes (usually dad jokes but you laugh at them bc it’s shuri…)

・❥・very possessive

・❥・offers to do your work for you multiple times, but the teachers know her so well that they can tell if she did someone else’s work

・❥・stupid flirty jokes that aren’t funny but they make you laugh anyways

・❥・very one-track minded, so sometimes she’ll forget to text you back. she makes it up to you in other ways

・❥・gets unreasonably upset if you start watching something without her

・❥・has a tongue piercing 🤫

・❥・posts you on her story/insta a lot, maybe too much. but she loves you too much to not show you off

・❥・very tender headed, will not let anyone but you style her hair

・❥・has a million alarms that she sleeps through, so you have to borderline punch her every morning to wake her up (heavy sleeper)

・❥・little spoon

・❥・favorite place to kiss you is under your ear or forehead

this was lowk so much fun to make ngl. i might do one for riri :3 thanks for reading! (shuriri fic is still on the works don’t worry) leave your headcanons in the replies or reblogs!

#black panther wakanda forever #shuriri #black panther #wakanda forever #dizzywrites #shuri fluff #princess shuri #letitia wright shuri #shuri #shuri black panther #shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri headcanon #highschool shuri #marvel black panther #riri williams

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rogueddie · 1 year

Text

The first time Steve and Dustin were alone together was the night they found Will. He had reassured Joyce that the kids would be fine, that he'd call their parents and, if needed, he would personally drive them home. Everyones parents were able to come to the hospital to pick them up.

Everyone expect Dustin.

So, Steve drove him home. He was giddy the whole ride, didn't bat an eye at Steve's presence the way the others had. He'd been more excited when Steve encouraged him to keep telling him about their side, about the little girl with superpowers and their little nerd game.

He'd invited Steve in for tea. Steve didn't have any left at home, had run out a couple days ago, so he agreed. He needed something warm after the day he'd had. He only hoped he wouldn't be intruding.

Claudia was horrified when she saw how bruised and bloodied he was. She had not only made him tea, but wrapped him up in a blanket and got her first aid kit. She was only really able to clean him up, most of the cuts beginning to heal just enough to be find on their own. Not that it made Claudia feel any better.

She'd only gotten more overbearing when Steve reluctantly admitted that his parents still weren't home yet. She insisted that he stay there so she can make sure he's still ok in the morning.

He has to argue with her when she tries to insist he sleep in her bed, while she stays on the sofa. Luckily, Dustin backs him up on that point. He points out that she'd make Steve feel guilty, which Steve quickly agrees with. Together, they convince her that Steve will be fine to stay on the sofa.

She made him breakfast in the morning. Homemade pancakes. She checks over his wounds again and, when she's finally satisfied that he doesn't have a concussion, she reluctantly let's him leave.

She calls him every other day, checking in on him. She stops commenting on his parents absence, just tutting. She only stops calling when, after two weeks, his parents do arrive home. They don't care about his bruises, simply remind him to keep his grades up, to not let the incident effect his basketball 'career'.

Steve finally took Claudia up on her offer to visit any time. She didn't care that he stayed the whole day, even offering to babysit Dustin when she wanted to go out for a little bit and was trying to find her usual babysitters number. He insists she doesn't pay him too, that she'd been letting him squat for long enough that he owes her anyway.

It becomes routine after that. Sometimes Claudia calls him to babysit, usually he's already there. Dustin complains a lot that he doesn't need a babysitter, but Steve can tell that he doesn't really mind. Dustin can rant about whatever he wants to Steve... mostly because Steve isn't really listening but that just means he can rant about the same thing as much as he wants.

The second time Steve turns up at Claudias house, bruised and bloodied, is far worse than the first.

She fusses a lot more, scolds Dustin for the plasters the kids had used to try and stop the bleeding. She had to reopen a lot of the cuts in order to clean them properly. She only needed to bandage one, holding the ice pack to his eye for him for some time.

"You can't keep getting hurt like this," she had tried to scold him. Her voice broke though, revealing the fear she tried to hide.

"He was protecting us," Dustin finally spoke up. He was unusually quiet, almost timid. "B... the guy was going to hurt Lucas. He said he was gonna kill him. Steve was protecting us."

After that, Claudia insisted that Steve join them for their Sunday roasts. At first as a thank you, for looking out for Dustin and the kids as much as he had. It soon becomes something... more.

It wasn't until Dustin dragged Steve home after Starcourt and the Russians, bruised and bloodied once again, that the subtext was no longer sub.

Claudia complained, loud and upset, that someone must have cursed the town, must have cursed her.

"If it wasn't for you having all your friends here, Dusty, I'd move us away. I'd pack all of our important stuff and we'd go, right now. Far, far away where nothing can hurt my boys ever again."

She'd been looking at Steve. She'd been making sure the medics had properly taken care of his wounds. She'd looked at him, pointedly.

"Where you two go?" Steve asked, trying to ignore the look.

Claudia had tutted, narrowed her eyes at him. "Us three. Our little family is already too small. Nothing could make me leave you behind, Stevie. Nothing."

"Oh."

She had smiled, fixing his hair.

Dustin snorted when he looked over. "You're catching flies, Stevie!"

"Shut up!" Steve threw a pillow at him. "You're such a brat!"

Dustin grabbed the thrown pillow, throwing it back at his chest. "You're one to talk!"

"Be careful," Claudia warned.

She sat back with a smile, keeping a close eye on them and making sure that they're play-fighting didn't get too out of hand.

She can remember when she first had Dustin, how much she'd wanted another son to keep him company, a brother who would love him. She can remember how distressed she was when she realized that she never would.

Funny how things turn out, she thinks; funny that she did get her dream in the end. Even if it does come with a lot of stress.

"Dusty, careful! You need to be careful, watch out for his face, ok?" She raises her voice a little. She bites back a smile at the sheepish looks they both send her.

#stranger things #steve harrington #dustin henderson #claudia henderson #fic #ficlet #thingy ma do boo #genfic #STEVE HENDERSON RIGHTS

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hanrinz · 1 year

Text

𖥦 ٭࣭ 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 𝗔𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗖𝗟𝗔𝗦𝗦𝗠𝗔𝗧𝗘 !

includes: deku, bakugou, shoto, hawks, dabi & shigaraki

content warning: attempted crack, is based on what happened irl, chaotic! can be platonic/romantic! i have favoritism and it's very obv here

rosie's notes: bnha men but this time sum of this happened irl ?!? our school is holding a sports event & that gave me an inspiration to write smth ! and happy 100+ followers to me🫶 thank you everyone!!

꒰ 𝐃𝐄𝐊𝐔 ꒱

you know those nerds who would ramble on and on about their interests? yeah, that's him. although, this is already a given thought about him, i just know he is an all might defender! slandering all might is a big no, he would pull out all the reasons why all might is so amazing and therefore you have no reason to say such malicious things to the former no. 1 hero.

he would definitely be that classmate who's popular because he edit vids so well?!? his account is full of all might edits😟 it's very concerning.

he would let you copy his notes!! though it's not very readable.. overall he's a nice classmate to have!

꒰ 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 ꒱

definitely, the vice president who shouts at their classmates that are noisy, but also noisy himself. he definitely knows all the tea in the classroom! he says he hates drama but keeps receipt of every rumour and hush secrets.

the leader! he might be harsh at it, but at least it gets the work done. he's strict too! if you give him your work it must be perfect, well-written and up to his standard! he doesn't half-assed things, if you can't match up with that, it's better to work alone😞

꒰ 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐎 ꒱

the quiet guy who always has a handkerchief over his mouth, would talk occasionally. he's the one who would have a bunch of supplies! mans is built like national book store😤

need a marker? he got a box of those, in different colors too! don't have any paper? you can ask one from him! forgot your pens at home? he got your back!! he's that type of guy you would always want to be group mates with, he's just smart and participates very well!

꒰ 𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐒 ꒱

the teacher's pet, (pun not intended) he would always get straight A's, would always help the teacher with their things whenever they leave the classroom. he would also be the one to remind the teacher about the assignment that y'all agreed not to mention.

the students from other schools come to see him in every event your school holds !! you will always see him with different ppl taking pictures with him, definitely a social influencer!

he pranked dabi one time, trying to scare him. he got punched in the face resulting from him getting a bruise (didn't post for his selca week, got his fans in shambles wondering what happened to him)

꒰ 𝐃𝐀𝐁𝐈 ꒱

the annoying guy who teases you all day, also likes doing activities all by himself. is on the dance club??!?? he can dance!! and win in every competition he partakes in.

would receive love letters and chocolates on valentines day?? he hates those things, would probably end up burnt or just down the trash :( or maybe he would just give it away to his friends, either way he doesn't like it.

he gave you one though, from him too?!? very mixed signals, but it's dabi so it's bound to be one.

꒰ 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐈 ꒱

that guy who plays mobile games at school, when phones are supposed to be surrendered! surprisingly, is good at hiding his phone well and is very participative in group work!

he's that guy who wears hoodies even in the hot weather! does not give a shit about other ppl, unless it's correlative to him.

have a very messy sleeping schedule, one time he fell asleep on your shoulders he was warm and very cuddly too! nuzzled in your neck and inhaling your perfume.

dabi smacks him in the head to wake him up, he jolts from the impact immediately muttering a small apology to you, still groggy but would definitely ask you to let him sleep on your shoulders again.

#deku x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #hawks x reader #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha headcanons #bnha headcanons #mha imagine #bnha imagine #roses ‘r rosie

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mortiferumsomnum · 2 years

Text

Jason Todd’s Cooking: Ghost King Approved!

A continuation to THIS post!! EDIT: MASTERLIST

Jason wanted to punch Danny.

Don’t get him wrong! The kid’s a delight to be with! He’s compassionate, sassy, and a huge nerd on anything related to space. The daily hugs the kid had been giving him had also been curing him of his Lazarus Madness, allowing Jason to sleep at night without any bloodthirsty thoughts to ruin his night... morning... whatever.

But when you have dozens of ghosts lined up at your door at ass-o’clock in the morning, whispering of how they wanted to have a taste of your “Cooking the Ghost King Approves”, even you would want to punch the ghost-kid’s face. It didn’t matter if his coronation to Official King-hood is tomorrow.

He also looks like the Demon Brat, so his punchable-looking face enhanced!

They haven’t seen Jason yet, who was hiding behind some building and was still in his Red Hood gear. How did these ghosts even find out where his civilian self lived----- Dannyyyyyyyy. Of course these ghosts would keep tabs of where their Beloved Ghost King was frequenting. Fuck. He needs to get out of here.

How are these ghosts even going to eat Jason’s food anyways?! Can they?! He thought Danny was the only ghostly being capable of stomaching food from the living realm!!!

The ghosts looked really weird too. Unlike Danny, who looked a bit more alive what with his skin color becoming like Damian’s when in his Ghost Form, these ghosts are either blue or green. Some had human forms, others looked like blobs.

Jason furrowed his brows under his mask. How the fuck is he even able to see these ghosts?! The only ghost he’s only able to see was Danny for these past few days! Did being with the Ghost King... enhance his ability to see ghosts?! Or were these ghosts just powerful enough to keep a form?

So many questions!! Tim and Bernard would have a field day trying to investigate this. He could already imagine all the whiteboard markers and whiteboards the two were going to invest in, throwing idea, theory and facts at each other until they’ve gotten The Whole Truth of the matter down to their satisfaction.

Yeahhhhhh, no. Nope. Not dealing with this anymore. Jason has recently began caring about his mental health now that he’s slowly been purified. He’s not going to let his progress flop with an encounter like this.

He was about to fuck off to one of his safe-houses when he heard a familiar voice.

“What in Ancients’ name are you all doing here?!”

It was Danny, floating above them with his arms crossed and a glare on his face. Tim and Bernard tried to explain to Jason what the ghostly glamour was doing to avoid him from recognizing Danny’s face, but Jason was busy relaxing in Danny’s purification hugs to listen to the two excitable puppies yip theories at him. But, if the glamour weren’t there, Jason could bet that the glare would look similar, if not identical, to Damian’s.

“Your Highness!” the ghosts greeted, bowing towards Danny before excitedly straightening up.

They all talked at the same time, trying to explain their reasoning. It was entertaining how the little blob ghosts cooed and did little flips in the air.

With one hand held up from Danny, they all shut up.

“I don’t want to know your reasons, nor do I want to know how you all found out about this place,” he said. The way the kid said it reminded him too much of Bruce when he’s about to ground the batkids (Jason included). Then, Danny pointed to the side, a portal open that was definitely made by Danny himself. “I want all of you back to the Ghost Zone in the next minute. Do not disturb this place again.”

All the ghosts deflated, the human-looking ones slouching and hunching their shoulders, as they all floated into the portal. They all mumbled their apologies as they did so. Once the final, sad blob ghost plopped itself into the swirling portal, Danny closed it and turned to Jason with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about that, man,” he said.

Jason walked up to him with hands in his pockets, chuckling. “Must be tough running a kingdom, Your Highness.”

Danny groaned. “Please don’t call me that,” he whined.

“But Your Highness,” said Jason dramatically, because he’s a little shit like that, “I am but a mere commoner! I wouldn’t dare address you so informally!”

Danny snorted, punching playfully at Jason’s shoulder. “You’re an ass!”

Jason grinned. “Good.”

Then, as if remembering something, Danny brings out an envelope from one of his ghostly pockets and hands it to Jason. “Clockwork has a job for you,” he said. “But you can refuse if you don’t wanna do it. It’s a really tiring job, and you’d only be paid in ghost money, which isn’t even applicable in the mortal realm.”

Jason took the envelope, opened it, and looked over the cursive writing he imagined characters in Jane Austen’s books writing like. Well, almost like. The ink was in Neon Green.

“This Clock-y dude is...”

“He’s basically my advisor,” Danny said, not explaining more.

Jason hummed in response. Then, he shrugged.

“Tell Clock-y I’m not doing it, then,” he said, folding the letter and placing it back inside the envelope. “We’ll have our own feast here, with Timmy, Berny and your freaky friends. I’m not cooking for some stuffy, rich ghosts.”

Danny laughed. “I’ll tell Clockwork that,” he said with a grin. “I think he also wanted to taste your food.”

Jason huffed, waving a hand in the air. “If that’s all, I’m gonna head into my apartment and get some much needed sleep, thank you.”

Danny nodded towards him. “Sure,” he said, then he opened his arms. On instinct, Jason hugged Danny back. There was no purification happening, it was just a hug. And, damn, does this kid give good hugs. The Demon Brat should learn from him.

“Thanks,” Danny said when they pulled away.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason said, already walking to his home. “Get going kid.”

Danny chuckled.

Jason then heard the sound of a portal opening. The moment Jason unlocked his door, Danny had already left.

********

[Bonus Scene: Time with Tim!!!]

Tim wanted to punch Danny.

Now don’t get Tim wrong. He likes Danny. He doesn’t try to kill or maim him, he doesn’t insult him, and he even lets Tim hang out with him when he goes exploring to different parts of the Earth! Initially, it was to help him find his clone-sister that he hasn’t seen for 3 months because they ended up becoming a bit too competitive in their Global-Hide-and-Seek. After meeting Dani, the invitations to illegally visit other countries together became more and more. Bernard came with them sometimes. Heck, even Jason tagged along in some of them.

Where was Tim going with this again?

Oh yeah, punching Danny. Right.

You see... There was this baby ghost with a grandfather clock ticking in his chest and a clock in his staff floating in his apartment. And when the baby talked, he sounded like a grown man.

He called himself Clockwork. The Master of Time.

It’s only been 32 hours since he last slept. So, this definitely cannot be one of his sleep-deprived hallucinations.

And Danny mentioned a Clockwork once.... ohhhhhh.....

“Yes, oh.”

Now, Tim only knows Clockwork based on what Danny had told him. That he is a mentor and advisor, a friend and a parental figure. But, what Tim does not know is whether this... entity... wouldn’t attack him or see Tim as a threat.

So, you see why he wanted to punch him?? Tim shouldn’t be meeting ghosts while sleep-deprived, and now he’s meeting someone who may very well be a god.

And, well, this is Tim’s Fourth encounter with a ghost (his third encounter being with Cujo the ghost dog). Not all ghosts are going to be as friendly as Danny.

“I admire your alertness in this situation,” said the baby, and suddenly, the baby turned into an adult man. “But I come here in peace,” he continued. Now, he turned into an old man. “And I come here to ask for assistance.” He turned back into a baby.

Tim could only blink. He was still holding the papers to the latest cold case he was solving and he was swaying on his feet.

“Uhhhhh....”

“It involves the Ra’s Al Ghul,” he said.

Tim’s brain restarted. His whole body suddenly became very alert. The tiredness he was feeling was no longer there, and Tim had Clockwork’s full attention.

“What about him?” he asked.

Clockwork morphed into an adult, and then into an old man, stroking his beard as he waved his staff.

As if looking at a hologram, an image of Ra’s Al Ghul floated into the air. And, with a light tap, it was like watching a video start playing.

“Pathetic,” Ra’s spat.

The scene panned to Danny on the ground, heaving and crying as he clutched... Damian to his chest. Behind Danny, there laid familiar figures: himself, Jason, Dick and Bruce, and farther away was Danny’s friends that Tim had only seen in photos. Even without physically checking, Tim could tell that they were all... dead.

“Because of you, I have lost my heir,” said Ra’s. “My daughter had lost her dear son. And this world had lost some of the best heroes.”

“Shut up,” Danny growled. And that growl brought shivers down Tim’s spine.

“You call yourself a King? Well, I guess now you have gained more subjects to your pathetic little kingdom.”

“I said... Shut. UP!”

Tim watched with wide eyes as Ra’s was flown back. Then, as Ra’s back hit the wall, Tim watched as his soul was brought out of the old man’s body. Danny was there in front of Ra’s in an instant, clutching at his ghostly neck, and snarling with red eyes and skin turning from Damian’s lively brown to a ghostly blue pallor. Tim felt goosebumps forming on his arms.

Ra’s was writhing in Danny’s hold, clawing at Danny’s arms to try and get even an inch of oxygen. But Ra’s is a ghost in this vision of the future. He did not need to breathe. He needed to escape.

Ra’s form began to glow, and the old man began to scream.

Danny’s hold became tighter and tighter on Ra’s, not blinking for a second when the light turned blinding, causing Tim to close his eyes. Then, when he opened them, in Danny’s hand was... a glowing sphere.

“That is a core,” Clockwork said from behind him. Tim made no move to look towards him, only focusing on what Danny was going to do with it. “A core is what brings life to ghosts, as it is both their heart and their mind. Their soul. Their source of life. Without it, a ghost would not exist any longer.”

And just as Clockwork had finished explaining, Tim watched as Danny destroyed Ra’s core.

Danny then turned to look behind him. It was void of any emotion. So empty. It was back to its regular neon green, but it didn’t glow with life like the current Danny does.

One last look around, Danny snarled once more. He clenches his fists, and his eyes turned red. Then, Tim watched as Danny screamed to the sky, destroying everything around him.

The vision ended.

Tim had so many thoughts. So many questions.

“This future is not definite,” Clockwork says, and continuing as he turns into an adult, “and there are choices that can be made to avoid this.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Tim asked. “I’m thankful that you’re giving me a warning, something to investigate so that I could keep my family safe, but I have a feeling that this isn’t about my family at all. Neither was it about Ra’s, was it.”

“It is not,” said Clockwork, turning into an old man. Interestingly, this version of Clockwork reminded him of a grieving Alfred, whose eyes and expression made him look older and tired. “It is to avoid what Danny may become.”

What he may become.

Tim thinks of Bruce when he lost Jason. Bruce who became aggressive to the point he was close to killing himself. Bruce who needed a Robin to gain back the light in his eyes and become the Batman that the people of Gotham trusted to protect them.

However, unlike when he was young, he had experienced many things. Although it was him that Clockwork was showing this to, Tim knew that Tim wasn’t the only person that could help make a change to keep this future from happening. He wouldn’t have to take up the responsibility by himself.

Danny has people who would be by his side no matter what. Support him no matter the struggle. Perhaps it was because Tim learned all this that Clockwork was telling him.

And, yes. Clockwork seemed to know what Tim was thinking, because he gave him a grin, morphing into an adult. “It seems that my time here is up,” he said, opening a portal for himself. And without another word, Clockwork was gone.

#ayyyyy #dc x dp #dp x dc #jason todd #tim drake #danny fenton #danny phantom #this is a thank you for reading my other post!!#i hope you all like it!! uwu

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