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#i think that what i tagged the last one but who knows!
suguann · 2 days
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tags. fem!reader, the overused 'i know we're supposed to be fwb but i fell in love with you anyway' trope, confessions, gojo mentally spiraling during sex over how much he's in love with you because that's a very him thing to do [18+ only]
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Gojo can’t tear his eyes off you as you move above him—riding his cock like this would be the last time you’d ever feel it inside you. That thought twists his insides, his fingers digging into your hips as if you might float away before he ever really had a chance to voice the words he’s been too scared to say.
But he couldn’t really stop you if you wanted to leave—that’s how the groundwork of uncomplicated arrangements like these work, at least in the beginning. He likes to think that a lot has changed since that night in your living room between two drunk, lonely people with nothing to lose aside from your torn underwear in his haste to get them down your soft legs and an old condom tucked away in his wallet.
The feeling sneaks up on him without his knowing, a throbbing in his chest that festers and grows over time until he can’t ignore it anymore or contain it in the proverbial cup of his hands no matter how hard he tries.
It doesn’t dampen how much he wants to mold the shape of his cock inside your tight little cunt, to ruin you for anyone else who thought they even had a chance, to have his name be the first thing you think of when you cum. He wants to make every part of you his, and he only hopes you want the same thing, too.
He groans at the thought, gripping you tight to slam his hips up into you. “Tell me who’s fucking you so good. Tell me who’s the only one that gets to make you cum.”
“You, Toru!” you sob, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself from falling against his chest. It has his balls drawing up tight, and he sucks in a breath to stop this from being over too soon.
“That’s right, pretty girl,” he grunts. “I’m the only one who gets to see you like this. I’m the only one who gets to feel this sweet princess cunt.” He leans up to suck one of your nipples into his mouth, groaning when he feels you clench down around him.
“I-I’m gonna cum,” you choke out.
“Yeah?” His fingers circle over your clit as he shoves his cock deeper inside of you to take you there faster, nipping at the swell of your breast. “Fuck, give it to me, baby. Lemme feel it.”
His name is soft and sweet on your tongue as you cum, squeezing around him until his eyes roll back from how good it feels. It has him following after you, grinding his cock as far as it can go while he pulses and fills you to the brim. There’s so much that he feels it leak out of your little hole and drip down his balls to pool in an uncomfortable wet puddle forming beneath him.
He rolls away from the mess when you both catch your breath, his softening cock still tucked away between your wet thighs. You stroke his hair, your nails lightly scratching his scalp, and he buries his face into your chest, words weighing heavy in his chest.
Maybe he should cut the bullshit already, say what he wants to say, and get let down easy while he still has a chance to recover from rejection—
“Sleep with me?” he asks, voice muffled and a shade of red high on his cheeks.
You giggle, lightly tugging on his hair. “I probably need at least—”
“No,” he cuts you off nervously, heat rising to his ears. “No sex. Just to sleep…here. With me?”
When you don’t say anything right away, he wonders if there’s any way he can take back his words and whether you’d believe him if he told you it was all a joke. But then you tug the blanket over both of you, tucking the corners in so the air from the ceiling fan doesn’t reach your cooling skin, and continue running your fingers through his hair.
There’s a warmth in his chest, which he thinks might be what love feels like.
After a moment, you say, “If you steal the blankets, I’m kicking you off the bed.”
Gojo snorts, smiling against your breast. “But it’s my bed.”
You hum. “Yes, and I’ll do it anyway.”
“Just so we’re clear, I’m still going to fuck you later.”
“Go to sleep, Satoru.” He can’t see it but knows you’re smiling, too.
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strangersmunsons · 1 day
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Eddie goes shopping with you. eddie munson x gn!reader, ~900 words
“Okay, now what do you think of this?” You hold out a crisp white button-down shirt.
“I think that’s great,” he says automatically. 
“Eddie,” you sigh impatiently, “you’ve said that about every article of clothing we’ve seen today. I need like, an actual opinion.”
“That is an actual opinion.” He sounds offended that you might suggest otherwise.
“C’mon, I’m trying to look professional! You gotta help me.”
“I am helping!” Eddie holds up both arms to emphasize his point — he’s laden with bags from the stores you hit earlier in your shopping venture, weighed down with the new clothes you’re purchasing so as to better look the part for your new job.
A small giggle escapes you in spite of your exasperation. “I told you you don’t have to carry any of those,” you remind him, folding your arms across your chest.
Eddie scoffs. “And what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you haul this crap around all day?” He shakes his head, dark curls tumbling about his soft face. “No way. Wayne raised me right, thank you.”
“Well, that he certainly did,” you admit, a rush of affection warming your chest. Unable to help yourself, you reach out and pinch his little cheek between your thumb and index finger.
He pouts at the gesture, pretending to be annoyed; but really, a thrill shoots through him at the brief moment of contact. Oh, what he wouldn’t give for you to be touching him always. 
But it’s not like that. Not for you two.
Eddie tells himself that it’s okay, that he’s accepted it, he’ll content himself with daydreams and fantasies as he always has —
“Do you think black looks classier, though?” You’ve turned back to face the clothing rack again, thoughtfully fingering the silky fabric of a dark shirtsleeve. Your eyes narrow. “Or is it almost too formal?”
Eddie blinks dazedly, then shrugs. “I dunno. I wear black all the time, no one’s ever put me up for best dressed.” He frowns. “I suppose it’s a little different when it’s a Metallica t-shirt, though.”
You poke him playfully. “Or ripped jeans.”
Eddie swats your hand away, heart leaping.
You snicker in response, then soften. “For the record, I do like the way you dress. It goes with your whole thing, y’know?” You motion towards him vaguely, hands waving up and down his figure.
“My thing?”
“Mmhmm,” you hum. “The hair, the attitude, the music. Even your name. The whole thing.”
“What does my name have to do with any of that stuff?”
You shift your weight from foot to foot as you think about how to word your answer, tongue poking ever so slightly out of your mouth — an unconscious imitation of the face Eddie often makes when he’s focusing. He swoons a little when he realizes that you’re picking up some of his habits.
“I mean, if I didn’t know who you were, and someone told me to pick out the guy named Eddie Munson from a crowd of a hundred people, I could do it like that,” you tell him, snapping your fingers on the last word. “No one has ever looked more like they should be named Eddie Munson than you.” Your eyes cut over to his. “Does that make sense?”
Bewildered, Eddie’s eyebrows have shot up so high they’ve all but disappeared under his bangs. “…kind…of?”
You pat his shoulder, amused. “Don’t worry about it. Just look at the shirt.”
Obediently, his gaze flits back to the top. You smile expectantly, and he works to offer some sincere judgment. 
“Um, it looks comfier than the white one? Not as starchy.”
You nod sagely. “True.” You examine it more closely, a flicker of uncertainty clouding your features. “Do you think it’d look okay on me?”
Of course he does. He thinks you look nice in everything. In your pajamas, in your dressiest formalwear — it doesn’t matter. He never wants to hold you any less. To him, you’ve always the most beautiful person in the world. Whatever you happen to put on your body is irrelevant.
But this is the whole point of him accompanying you; he practically begged for you to let him tag along, swearing that it would be fun and that he’d help you. You’d been a smidge embarrassed at first, certain he’d grow impatient with your indecisiveness and bored with the constant vanishing into dressing rooms, but you seem comfortable now, letting him tote your bags around and asking for his advice. He hopes you’ll take him again next time, and then the next time, and then again after that…
“Yes, I do. I think you’d look really wonderful,” he finally answers. “You look incredible in everything you wear. Honest. You don’t need to worry about anything you buy today.”
Your eyes shine, a bashful smile spreading across your lips. “Really?”
“Of course,” he replies, face reddening. “You — you could wear a potato sack and make it look good, frankly.”
You laugh. “Yes, I’m sure that would be very flattering on me.”
“Hey, I think you could rock it.” He knows you think he’s teasing you, but he means it. And he’ll tell you again, and again, and again, until you believe him.
He’s got nothing but time.
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I'm Not Like Everybody Else (Natasha Romanoff x Reader)
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Tag List: @mxxnmocha​ @madamevirgo @fl0ating @natasha-danvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @summergeezburr @natashasfirefly @sighsam @nowthisisliving27 @captain-josslett @hcartbyheart​ @stop-drop-and-drumroll​ @tribblemakingalicorn @aaron-despair​ @becka107​ @peggycarter-steverogers​ @rooskaya-yelena​ @cpt-bolter​ @natashadeservedmore @indiavance555 @thewidowsghost @waltermis
Word Count:825
Natasha Romanoff POV
“I’m bored Tasha… spar with me?”
“No”
“Watch a movie with me?”
“No”
“But I’m boreddd Natasha… you need to entertain me!”
“Go annoy your girlfriend Yelena, I am not moving from this spot for the rest of today. It’s my only rest day I’ve had in the last 2 weeks so please just let me do nothing in peace.” I say to my frustrated sister, having just come back from back-to-back missions I am addiment on not moving for the duration of my day off today.
“ugh Kate Bishop is busy with old man Barton today and I really can’t be bothered to be nice to him at the moment, I have to much energy for that.” Yelena groans as she slumps down onto the sofa next to me, I can’t help smirking at the little nickname she has for Clint something that I will have to repeat back to him at some point.
I go to answer Yelena but the noise of the common room door opening and an unfamiliar female voice grabs my attention, both myself and Lena turn to face the newcomer who is walking beside a smiling Steve and once my eyes meet her e/c ones I instantly am blown away by her natural beauty.
“Hey Nat, Yelena, please meet our new team member Y/N L/N. She’s come highly recommended by Hill and Fury so please make her feel welcome” Steve informs us with a smile on his face, I hear Yelena introduce herself with a nice welcome but I am not paying attention to what she is saying instead I am taken back by the blinding smile that adorns our newcomers face.
“Hey L/N nice to meet you, looks like Thor has competition for being the best-looking Avenger” I finish my sentence with a cheeky wink, my smirk falls slightly when I notice that Y/n was not blushing like most women would and judging by the little chuckle coming from the annoying blonde next to me it seems Yelena has noticed that as well.
I watch as Y/n gives me a polite smile before being ushered out of the room by a talkative Steve, I follow the girl with my eyes and once she is out of my eye line, I turn to Yelena who seems to be dying of laughter.
“Oh my god! She didn’t even say anything! Wow Nat you seem to have lost your touch” I roll my eyes at the tease before punching my sister hard in the arm, grinning victoriously I turn and walk out of the room leaving my pouting sister all alone.
That first meeting was about 3 months ago and it’s safe to say my attempts at flirting with Y/n has not gone down well, I have been using my trademark Romanoff charm and all I get is a smile and a nod not someone who giggles and fawns over me like everyone else does and I have had enough!
I stomp to Y/n’s bedroom and after knocking on the door I am greeted with a warm smile, something that instantly makes me melt into a puddle. I gaze into her e/c eyes fully aware that I am sporting a dreamy smile but I couldn’t care less, I am happy to be in the presence of this goddess.
“Are you alright Natasha? You’ve not moved since I’ve opened the door?” A look of concern etched onto Y/n’s face as she softly speaks to me, I am snapped back into reality at her voice and not thinking I just go for it.
“Why don’t you respond to my flirting? I am trying my hardest to get you like me but you aren’t giving me anything! I am giving you the Black Widow treatment most people would kill for that!” I vomit out, I cringe to myself as I am speaking but I just can’t stop myself.
“I’m not like everyone else I don’t respond to flirting; I much prefer to spend time with a person and get to know them. I don’t want the Black Widow; I want to know the real Natasha Romanoff.” Y/n softly says making me nod along with her words, how dumb am I? why didn’t I think about this.
“I’m sorry Y/n I’ve spent my whole life around people who just want the Black Widow that I didn’t think some people would want to know Natasha instead. Can we start over? Hi my name is Natasha Romanoff” I say with a soft smile, I put my hand out in front of me and I squeal internally when I feel the soft hand of Y/n slip inside it.
“Nice to meet you Natasha, my name is Y/n L/n pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  Y/n softly tells me with a big smile on her face.
“Would you do me the honour of coming out to dinner with me tonight?”
“I couldn’t think of anything better Romanoff”
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teddiesworldd · 7 hours
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after the world ends.
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ghost finds you out in the woods during a zombie outbreak and falls in love with you. (2.6K words)
a/n: i feel like my shorter fics always do much better than my longer ones but i just couldn't help myself - this idea has been on my mind for a while and it was so sweet i just had to write it down and share it with you <3 also, if you'd like to be added to a taglist, let me know!
tags/warnings: nsfw, mdni!!, ghost x female reader, apocalypse au, mentions of weapons, killing (zombies), survival situation, unprotected p in v sex, cute fluffy stuff in the middle of a zombie apocalypse because why not?!, soap makes an appearance
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day 17 of the apocalypse, 3 weeks after the first outbreak.
you had lasted this long purely by camping out in the back of your car, rationing whatever you'd managed to bring in from your kitchen at the beginning of it all. but as supplies got low and you were down to your last water bottle, you were forced to venture out into the nearby woodland, gathering whatever you could forage from the streams and bushes. you knew absolutely nothing about surviving out here. you couldn’t hunt and could barely light a fire. the first day of winter was in less than a month and you had no real shelter to keep you warm. you had no idea which berries were safe to eat or how to filter water. all you had was your kitchen silverware for protection and your best winter jacket for the weather.
you’d last about 2 weeks out here at best, and that’s without the fucking zombies. 
you'd been walking for about an hour since leaving your car, and to be honest, you didn’t think you could find your way back now. everything looked the same. you had found only a pocketful of what you could only guess was edible, and a protein bar from the pocket of a dead guy’s jeans. every single noise scared the hell out of you. and the bite marks on his neck raised your adrenaline tenfold. 
thud. thud. snap.
footsteps. sticks breaking underfoot. 
“who’s there?” you called out. “i’m- i’m serious, come any closer and… and… i’ll kill you!”, shouting now, cold hand gripping your rusted kitchen knife tightly.
you saw a huge figure behind the trunk of a nearby tree, and he chuckled lowly at your brave attempt to scare him away. “you don’t scare me, sweetheart”, the voice said, deep and rough, walking out from behind the tree, “thought y'were a rabbit or something - cute lil' thing, rustling in those bushes. and if i was infected, you’d be dead by now, with a mouth on you like that.”
he was an absolute giant of a man, 6 and a half foot at least and built like a brick shithouse. he was in full military gear, skull mask over his face, armed with a rifle in hand and knives strapped to his chest and belt. he approached you slowly, palms facing you like he was trying not to spook a stray cat. part of you wondered if you were hallucinating - you'd not been sleeping well from the nightmares of the infected night after night.
“no use shouting, anyway - they’ll find you straight away making all that noise.” he continued, leaves crunching under his black boots, walking closer, “what’s a girl like you doing out 'ere, all alone?”
you were frozen in place, like a deer in headlights. he was already intimidating as fuck without the massive armoury hanging round his waist, but now he was so close you could feel his breath on your face. a thought crossed your mind that if he tried to kill you now, there would be absolutely nothing you could do to stop him. it made a shiver run down your back.
his gloved hand reached out to hold your chin. you looked up at him, eyes welling up from the pure fear that ran through you.
“lost?” he said quietly, tilting his head to get a proper look at you. 
you nodded slowly.
“well, you won’t get far with that old thing, love” he smirked through the mask, eyeing the blade in your hand. “here, i’ll take you back to camp with me, make you a proper meal, yeah? when did you eat last?”
you engaged in some light small talk on the way, finding out he was called “ghost” and he used to serve in a special operations unit for a private military company. i guess it made sense that the best survivors would be the soldiers. you mentioned how you’d been living in your car for the past two weeks, which seemed to amuse him. he probably thought you were just some dumb girl who’d somehow managed to scrape through until now.
he wasn’t wrong, really.
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his camp was much nicer than the back of your car. 
it wasn't far from where he'd found you. they had lots of weapons and food and beds. and people. there must of been about 10 men in total. the infected weren’t really an issue with their impressive arsenal. there was a large fence surrounding the camp and the men took it in turns to kill anything that tried getting inside. it was pretty clear that ghost was closest to one of the other ex-military guys called soap. they sat together when they ate and stayed up late at night talking together around the fire - matching dog tags glinting in the dim light. you often watched them through your tent door - enjoying their company but not wanting to interrupt their conversation. you listened as they talked deeply, recounting their time serving together, telling stories of bravery and bloodshed. it became your routine to fall asleep listening to them.
after about 3 or 4 weeks, following the first snowfall, you’d adjusted to life in the camp. you'd managed to pick up a few skills from soap, who often spent the mornings taking you hunting or showing you how to use the guns - a hand on your waist as he lined you up for the kill shot. he had a sweet nature and silly charm to him, telling you ridiculous jokes that only made you laugh because they were so stupid. you would never tell him that though - he thought you found him hilarious.
however, it was ghost you’d grown closest to, giving you anything and everything you needed. he was mysterious and that drew you to him. one time, he took you down to the river to wash the cookware and yourselves, and you'd caught a glimpse of him pulling off his clothes and mask, blonde hair and muscles seeing the light of day. you couldn't deny it - he was gorgeous.
he often checked on you in the evenings, making sure you’d settled in okay. he sat next to your bed, running a gloved hand over your head, rubbing small circles into your scalp.
“you like the boys?” he’d ask, “they treating you okay?”
and you’d nod, just like you’d do every night.
“not scared, are you, doll?”
you shook your head.
“good. just making sure.”
and with that, he’d leave, heading to his own tent to rest, or out to guard the fence.
but one night, before he got up to get some sleep, you grabbed his hand. he looked back at you, dark eyes watching yours.
“stay?” you whispered.
and he did, without a word. stripping off his heavy gear and perching next to you in bed, rough camo trousers scratching against your bare shoulder. 
and he stayed, just like you asked. watching over you like a dog and keeping you safe.
sometime in the night, you’d turned to face him where he sat, resting an arm over his thigh. but he didn’t push you off. he just let you rest - your warm breath causing a dampness throughout the tent. 
it was only when the winter sunlight streamed through the tent that you realised he really did stay - all night. you opened your eyes to see he’d settled in next to you, his sleeping body alongside yours in the small camp bed, your arm still around him. 
and when you tried to pull yourself away out of embarrassment, he pulled it back, keeping it over his chest. 
“for warmth, yeah?” he said quietly, voice all deep and sleepy.
and how could you argue with that? these were trying times, after all. 
after a moment's silence, he said “you’re a pretty thing, love. always thought so, even when i first met you and you were all scared and dirty.” he continued, heavy eyes looking down at your vulnerable form. “soap thinks so too, but you’re mine, yeah? i found you - you’re mine.”
there was something about the possessive glint in his eye that showed you he really meant it - his gaze trailing down from your face to your uncovered hips that had shuffled out the sheets in your sleep.
"cm'ere" he said, taking your arm in his grasp and pulling you towards him. "i mean it, love. do you wan' to be mine?" eyes watching your face to see how you'd react to his question. your faces were close now, closer than they'd ever been. he'd looked after you so nicely, giving you everything you needed, protecting you from harm all this time. you couldn't help but agree with him. how could anyone not fall for this attractive man who cared for you so much? and the feeling of his chest under your hand made you fall for him even harder.
"yeah," you whispered against his masked face "...yours."
your small hand reaching up to reveal his lips under his mask. he pulled you in, kissing you softly. it was short but there was so much behind it. you could tell he wanted more but he was holding back. he didn't want to accidentally push you away by moving too fast. he pulled back to look at you, hands cupping your soft face, which was still clouded with sleep.
"you're so beautiful, you know that?" he spoke so softly now. it was like the walls he'd put up had fell instantly. he just wanted a moment to be yours. no one else's. not the camp's cook or the guard or the hunter. just yours and nothing else.
you pulled yourself back to his face, kissing him again but soon moving your lips down to kiss his chin, and then his neck. but you didn't get far before he stopped you.
"no, no, love. let me take care of you - you deserve it." he said, turning you around so you were on your back, head resting on your plush pillow as his touch relaxed you.
it was almost as if for just a moment, you weren't in the middle of a fucking nightmare. you were at home, in your own bed. maybe you'd met him at work or out on a date - anywhere that wasn't in a forest full of zombies. and he'd taken you out for dinner a few times and you'd decided he was sweet enough to be kissing down your body, rolling his tongue over your nipples.
but here you were, in a camp full of strangers, being transported by this man who you barely knew, covered only by the walls of a thin tent. but it just felt so right to let him take you like this. you trusted him with your life. and in return he worked your body like magic. his touch was so gentle - yet his skin was so rough compared to your own.
"you want me inside you, baby?" he spoke to you so softly, having kissed down to the top of your underwear now. his eyes watched you, waiting for your permission to carry on.
"please," you replied, "i want you."
that was all he needed to hear. he pulled off his shirt and your underwear, tossing them both to the side. he admired your body shamelessly, eyes tracing the outline of your waist and your body. you couldn't help but do the same, entranced by the way his muscles practically glowed in the light that streamed through the tent. he was built like a rugby player, pure muscle but with a good layer of fat on top to smooth everything out. you watched as he unbuttoned his pants and pulled out his cock.
he was huge. you knew he was a big guy but you weren't expecting it to apply to all of him. it was definitely bigger than anyone you'd ever been with. his tip was an angry shade of red from how hard he was, precum running down his shaft. noticing the expression on your face, he reassured you.
"don't worry, i'll be gentle with you."
he lined himself up with your entrance, your wetness being enough to allow himself to push slowly inside. it stretched you more than you ever had been, causing you to hiss as it dipped inside you. he bent forward down to kiss you sweetly, silencing your pained noises, shushing you each time his lips left yours. he continued to move in until he bottomed out inside of you.
"you okay?" he grunted, "tell me when to move, love."
you paused for a moment, adjusting to his size before nodding to let him know he could start moving.
he didn't fuck like you expected him to. you thought a guy like him would be railing you like an animal, but no. he made love to you, his slow but deep thrusts hitting all the perfect spots in your gummy walls. it was pure bliss, and he thought so too, struggling to keep back his grunts each time he thrust into you.
"fucckkkk baby," he'd say, dog tag hanging down as he fucked you, "your pussy is so tight, gripping me so good". he hooked your legs behind his back and moved his big hands onto your hips to hold you in place. " is it good for you too, doll? you look so pretty with that fucked-out look on your face." he went on, smirking at you like he was proud of his work.
you couldn't even form words, let alone piece together a decent response. he felt amazing, pulling all the way out so only his tip was inside of you and then pushing all the way back in again, until you were an absolute drooling mess, jaw slack and whining on his cock. and just when you thought it couldn't get any better, he moved his hand between your legs and rubbed lazy circles on your clit with his thumb. almost instantly your pussy started pulsing around him - with you blubbering out incoherent swears and moans - having sent you completely over the edge in a matter of minutes. he wasn't far away either - your clenching making his hips stutter back and forward as he helped you ride through your orgasm. you could of swore you were seeing stars by the time he pulled out of you and came over your stomach with a moan, pressing his forehead to yours.
it took you both a few minutes to come back down again, giggling and kissing his lips once more. your arms found their way around his neck, holding him close to you. you were both a panting mess, clothes discarded across the tent floor and the scent of sex heavy in the air.
"my girl- you're gorgeous," he managed to huff out, catching his breath. " 'm never getting over you."
when news broke that a zombie apocalypse was spreading, you had no idea it would lead to this hunk of a man in bed with you - spoiling you and loving you like this. you weren't complaining, though. not at all. at least something good came from it.
he cleaned you up so carefully, being sure not to press too hard on your sensitive body. and when he'd made sure you were okay, he brought you something to eat and led down with you, stroking up and down on your back, drawing shapes and letters on your skin. part of you couldn't believe this was the same guy who you watched shoot a zombie in the face through the fence the other day. his hands were so gentle, always cautious not to hurt you under his touch.
and as your eyes grew heavy again, revelling in his embrace, you heard him say something into your skin.
"simon," he said quietly, face buried in your neck. "my real name's simon."
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bearsintreesofficial · 13 hours
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hello! i am going to be completely honest - we need your help.
next month, we are going on our biggest uk headline tour yet. we are being joined by people we admire deeply. it is going to be the best show we have ever done. and to be blunt - we would like as many people as possible to know about it.
to us, even getting to do this tour feels like a miracle. ykno, it was originally scheduled for last october. our london show would have been callum's birthday! and it was meant to coincide with releasing our new album. however, we had to push the album back. so the tour got pushed back. our spirits were dampened. there were people behind the scenes who did not respect us. so, we decided to respect ourselves. nearly six months later, we are sitting on the best album of our lives. we funded it ourselves and we are releasing it ourselves. we are going to own it, wholly. and that feels SO damn good.
i do not mean this post as a sad story or as a complaint - i am incredibly proud of where we are and what we have done. i just want to explain why it took so long to get here. there are some things we cannot accomplish without your help. selling out this tour and proving that we are the best damn dirtbag boyband in the world is one of those things.
so i am asking you, please - reblog this post. tag mutuals who don't have tickets yet, or mutuals you think would take a chance on us. boost this post as far as you can. whether you live in the uk or not, we want this tour to be inescapable. for everyone to know it is here, and for everyone to feel welcome.
selling out this tour means we can do bigger shows in more parts of the uk later, and allows us to play more shows in EVERY corner of the world too. it proves the point that we are here to stay, that we can do this on our own, and that y'all know how to be louder than the rest.
we promise to give you the best show of your lives, if you promise to give us everything you have.
thank you for reading.
uk/eu tickets are on sale here.
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deadbranch · 1 day
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So dumb question time again. I saw where you reblogged the callsign post. But you said y’all just call them nicknames.
When I did the barest do research, I know should’ve looked harder, the only place I really found that used the term callsign were pilots.
(Also I forgot the word pilot and almost just wrote flier but had enough sense to google what are people that fly planes called)
In the COD wikis I’ve read they use the word Alias(es) and not callsign.
Is callsign just a pilot term? Or is it also used throughout the military?
I know I could probably google it more but honestly your lived experiences and even opinions give an interesting perspective on it all.
Sorry your tags got me thinking about where the term that is used so heavily in the fanfic side of the fandom came from and why we use it.
You mean this post?
Ok. Here's where the fandom rage quits my blog:
The term "callsign" is used incorrectly in roughly 99% of military-themed fanfiction.
In the army, a callsign (or call sign) is specifically used in radio communications, not as a moniker or nickname to be used in in-person communications.
More precisely, a callsign is a combination of alpha and numeric characters, like Echo 3-1, Bravo-6, or Watcher-1. Callsigns are also used to ID listening posts, HQs, and permanent telecom installations, such as 620-Kilo in Cold War West Berlin. The radio operator on site would ID as 620-Kilo rather than an individual callsign, and when their shift is over, the next operator ID as 620-Kilo also.
Only field operators use individually designated callsigns, unless the callsign ID the vehicle (like a tank or armored-heavy), which means anyone using the radio for the vehicle ID as the vehicle callsign.
A callword (or call word) is the name of a receiver or station using letters/words but no numbers, like Actual, Cloud Castle, or Whiskey Foxtrot.
U.S. pilots (navy/air force/army air cavalry) are different from most of the military. Pilots get permanent callsigns (not always with numbers) during training and it follows them during their career. To be fair, they spend a lot of time on the radio, so having a permanent callsign makes sense.
Names like Ghost, Soap, and Gaz are aliases or nicknames. They're not actually callsigns.
The Call of Duty fandom fell in love with using the term callsign because it sounds more "military" to their ears than alias or nickname.
In my writing, I avoid using the term callsign because it's usually not the proper word to use in a given scene. To be fair, I have yet to write a pilot fic or one where there's extended training discussion about the proper use of radio-telephone operation in field ops.
My husband was an airborne RATELO (radio-telephone operator) and had a callsign for several years, but no one ever used his callsign unless literally talking over the SINCGARS system with him. I operated a radio for a week and I don't even remember what my callsign was. It was something forgettable from the NATO alphabet* with a number after it.
In the army, in person you're either your last name or your nickname.
SpecOps often call each other by their first names ("what's up, Dave?" LOL), their last name, or a nickname.
CIA & CID use aliases. They call those guys spooks for a reason. You never know who you're actually taking to since they never use their real name.
In the context of Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, I still maintain that Alex Keller isn't Echo-1's government name. He's CIA. That was never his name. And he was never here. :)
*The NATO Phonetic Alphabet, for reference:
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MASTERLIST
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dearhargrove · 3 days
Text
Survivors
Evan Buckley x reader
summary You're taking care of Christopher when Buck comes home, looking absolutely drained and in shock and goes straight to Christophers room. You overhear the news and make sure to care for both Chris and Buck.
word count 1639
tags pretty much episode 14 season 4, Eddie gets shot but it's not described, Buck is sad :(, Chris being the precious kid he is
a/n the way I sat there in silence when Eddie got shot is crazy. Like first they hurt us with Athena and Bobby's fight and then one second passes and Eddie (my bb) gets shot I'm so confused 😭 anyway I couldn't take it when I saw bucks reaction so I wrote a fix it for me. Also I screen recorded off of an illegal site to make gifs LMAO
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You're washing the dishes when the front door opens and closes, footsteps echoing through the hallway and living room - right past the kitchen.
“Eddie?” You call and the steps stop. Instead of the man you'd expected there's your husband, Buck. He looks distraught, eyes bloodshot and lips bitten raw. What the hell happened? He doesn't even really look at you, it's like he's looking through you. “Buck? You okay?”
He licks his lips and blinks a few times but he doesn't reply. He walks straight to Christopher's bedroom, you following after him in confusion and worry. Why was he alone and why did he look like he'd seen a ghost or worse?
He stops before entering Chris’ room, but not to wait for permission to come in but more like hesitancy. He balls his hand into a fist and takes a deep breath before walking in. You take his spot in the doorway and watch with a worried frown as Buck squats down in front of Chris who's sitting on his bed, playing a video game.
“Where's Dad?” Buck looks down and you see him swallow again before he looks into the kids eyes. “He's.. not coming home tonight, Chris.”
Chris seems almost unbothered by it but considering that Eddie had to stay in the hospital overnight almost regularly due to his job, it was a reasonable reaction. But Buck doesn't seem to think the same and shakes his head minimally.
“Did he get hurt? In a fire?” Chris inquires and Buck turns his head to the side and slowly shakes it in negation. Before explaining it he sits down next to Chris and pinches the bridge of his nose, frowning. “No, not- not in a fire.” He takes another deep breath before continuing, “The truth is someone hurt your Dad.”
It's been a while since you've heard his voice so sullen and raspy from crying - probably since the last visit from his parents and that was weeks ago now. You slowly and quietly come into the room as well, standing at the foot of the bed and next to Buck with his back turned to you.
He regards you with a short glance before focusing back on Christopher, confirming his question, “Yeah, a bad guy.”
You see him reach up and wipe under his eyes, frowning in empathy as you put your hand between his shoulder blades and slowly move it up and down in hopes to calm him down a bit.
“Is he gonna be okay?” Chris asks and you're glad he did because you want to know too. Buck looks at him again and nods. “Your Dad is tough. He's a fighter.”
“He's with the doctors now? The ones that fixed you?” Chris inquires and Buck nods. You see the conflict on his face before the ten year old nods, “Then he's gonna be fine.” You hum and Buck glances your way before focusing back on Chris. Just as he's about to say something his phone pings twice and he looks down at it.
Over his shoulder you see the message as well, stemming from Bobby.
Out of surgery. Doctors say it went well.
Your heart basically drops in relief and Bucks seems to as well when his phone drops from his hand and he pretty much caves in, dropping his chin to his chest as he sniffles and exhales deeply.
You thread your hand in his hair and he automatically leans into you, resting against your stomach as he starts to cry. His hands grasp at your hips before his arms wrap around you and he sobs.
“Shh, it's okay, baby. Eddie's gonna be fine. Right, Chris? Your dad's strong.”
The young boy nods and you smile assuringly as he reaches out and wraps his arm around Bucks shoulders to pat his back. You melt at the sight and ruffle his hair which he usually doesn't like - only his dad is allowed to - but now he just looks at you with worry and confusion.
“How about you go and get ready for bed, hm?” It's not a question and it is a reasonable time for him to head to bed anyway, so he complies and slowly walks to the bathroom.
When he's out of earshot you sit next to Buck and let him fully wrap his arms around you and put his head on your chest as he cries. “H-He got shot right in front of me,” he starts with hitching breaths. “He just dropped and his blood was all over me-” he sobs deeply and you kiss his head while trying to process this yourself. He got shot?
“You couldn't have prevented it, love. He's gonna be fine. Eddie survived a lot, he's going to pull through this time, too.” Buck shakes his head and pulls back enough to look at you, blue eyes glossy and chin quivering as he gasps between another sob.
“It shouldn't have been him!” This devastates you and you cup his face in your hands, your worried expression replaced by a stern one. “It shouldn't have been anyone. Not him and not you, either. You hear me?”
He whimpers and you sigh, wiping your thumbs under his eyes and placing a long, soft kiss on his birthmark. “As soon as we can, we'll go visit him. But now you have to be strong, for Christopher. He looks up to you, if he sees you sad he'll be sad, too. Let's get him to bed, and I'll take care of you after.”
You take his hand and put it over your heart, exaggerating your breaths so he could match his and calm down. Right when he does he opens his eyes again and his frown fades enough to only be barely visible. “‘m sorry.”
The shake of your head is immediate, shutting up any further apologies. “No. It's good to let it out. I'm here so you can do exactly that if you need to. I love you, Evan. Nothing's gonna change that.”
He pulls his hand from your chest and tangles it with yours instead, gently kissing your knuckles and then your inner wrist.
He used to hate his name after it reminded him of his parents- of how they treated him. It reminds him of a life where he had to endure pain to receive love and attention.
But when you say it, it makes his heart beat faster in a good way. It makes him want to move on from his trauma or at least learn to deal with it.
And moreover it makes him feel validated. With you, he's not just Buck. He's also vulnerable, emotional and a bit cheesy. He's Evan. Evan, who's had more jobs in more cities than he can count on one hand because he was trying to find his place in the world. Evan, who likes the ocean but has been uneasy around it ever since the tsunami.
You smile lovingly and peck his forehead just as Chris comes back inside. He's wearing some dino pajamas and you ‘ohh’ at him which makes him giggle and turn as if to show off his outfit.
You move up from the bed - Buck going with you and standing at the foot of it - and untuck the bedsheets. “Get in there.” Chris grins and lays down, letting you tuck him in.
“Don't be sad, kid.” He says to Buck, who tries and fails to hide a new round of tears building up in his eyes. You had no clue where and why Chris sometimes calls Buck or even Eddie ‘kid’ but both of them seemed to love it.
“I'm just a bit worried for your Dad. But he'll be fine,” he adds the last part when you glance at him warningly, not wanting Chris to worry, and smiles. “Goodnight, bud.”
You leave his nightlight on and the door open as you leave.
Buck settles on the couch and watches as you approach and stand in front of him.
He leans back into the couch and looks at you with those puppy dog eyes that make you melt every single time he looks at you. Damn him and his beautiful eyes.
“I'm really scared. I don't know what I would do without him… when he laid there and looked at me, I-” he inhales sharply and looks at his hands, picking at his nails and reopening an old abrasion in the process.
You take his hand into each of yours to stop him and sigh, “I think you're gonna have to move from monthly sessions to biweekly, babe.” You know his therapy has been helping him a lot and you're glad he's working on coping with his trauma, but this addition is going to complicate not just his home life but also work - especially when Eddie comes back.
He groans and pulls you down until you're sitting on his lap, knees on either side of his thighs and his hands on your hips. “I appreciate your help, lovie, but just let me try and rest a little right now, please?”
You smile and card a hand through hair, moving to get off his lap so he could get comfortable on the couch. “Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and you're pushed onto your back before he's leaning over you, laying between your legs.
“You're gonna use me as your pillow?” You prompt and he nods, laying his head on your shoulder and nuzzling his nose into your neck and against your pulse point. You're familiar with his constant search for proof that you're alive and well; you supposed it comes from not just the job but his abandonment issues, too.
It didn't matter to you though, as long as you got to hold him at the end of the day you'd let him maneuver you into whatever way made him happy.
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sprytesukii · 15 hours
Text
you know me (better than i know myself)
bakugou katsuki x reader
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katsuki is hopelessly in love with his best friend until you waltz into his life and warp it beyond his recognition.
rating: mature, 18+, MDNI
wc : 10.4k (holy fuck)
tags : mild to heavy angst, fluff, eventual smut, hurt/comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), afab!reader, unrequited love (not between reader and kats), depictions of mild depression, genderfluid!denki, queer!katsuki, reader has a quirk, oral (reader receiving), p-in-v intercourse, unprotected intercourse (wrap it b4 u tap it pls!), soft katsuki, and they were roommates :0, Not Beta Read, i think that’s it T^T
an: this is the first thing i’ve genuinely written in over a year and jesus it was like i was possessed writing it LMFAO incredibly self indulgent and i had a lot of fun writing it! i hope you guys enjoy it (pls rb n leave feedback pls pls pls)
read on ao3
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the warm light of the coffee table lamp casts a beautiful shadow across the planes of eijirou’s face — his sharp, angular nose, smooth cheekbones, plush lips that form a sheepish smile — and katsuki can’t even appreciate it, not with the absolute bullshit that pours from his best friend’s lips.
“the fuck you mean, you’re moving out?”
the words come out a lot harsher than katsuki intends, but he can’t even bring himself to feel guilty, not even when kiri’s face screws up in clear disappointment.
“well, uh, i told you, this new place is closer to my agency so it makes more sense. the commute’ll be much shorter and, uh…” he trails off then, a pretty pink blush spreading across his nose, highlighting the small spattering of freckles that katsuki is certain he’s the only one who’s ever noticed, a broiling heat setting alight in his stomach.
he feels like he might die.
“and.. kaito finally asked me to move in with him.”
there it is. fuckin’ kaito.
katsuki is far from an idiot — people call him a lot of names (brash, inconsiderate, a righteous asshole), but never dumb. they couldn’t unless they were outright lying.
part of what makes katsuki so intelligent is his observance.
of course he’s noticed eijirou’s late nights, his suspicious absences at group get togethers, the sweet smiles he makes as he taps at his phone screen, the fucking hickies.
bakugou katsuki is not stupid. he’s incredibly observant. especially when it comes to the massive crush he’s been harboring on his best friend for the last three years.
he’s not entirely sure when his reluctant tolerance of the bright redhead shifted to something more but he knows he’s been viciously, painfully pining over him day in and day out in the weeks (months, years) since.
and it’s not like kirishima hasn’t had partners before. he’s nearly impossible to resist with his intense attentiveness, his willingness to go above and beyond for those close to him, not to mention his insane physique, built from long hours out on the field and in the gym.
it’s no wonder katsuki has been in love with him for as long as he has been — eijirou is perfect.
perfectly imperfect, of course. he gets upset when katsuki sorts his clothes for him (“i’m an adult, okay? it makes me feel like you’re parenting me, man.”) or when he lectures him on his diet, or when he shuts him out after being friends for so long (when his feelings become too much to handle), but eijirou’s the only one who’s stayed.
katsuki has tried flings and a few more serious relationships but those have ended quickly because he’s just too much.
too loud. too frustrating. too closed off. too him.
but not for eijirou. never for eijirou.
that’s why when kiri mentioned he was talking to this new guy, he brushed it off. it would be like all the others who would eventually break it off because of the long hours at work or eijirou’s boundless enthusiasm and katsuki would be there to pick the sopping wet, heartbroken kiri off the ground and put him back together. they didn’t deserve him anyway.
but this kaito? apparently katsuki’s eagerness to ignore eijirou’s flings made him blind to what was happening — eiji wasn’t his anymore.
he’s moving out.
he’ll be gone forever.
subconsciously, katsuki realizes he’s been silent for far too long and that eijirou’s face has lost the hurt and is now painted with concern and confusion.
fuck, even now, he’s concerned. he cares so so much, except in the way katsuki craves.
“uh,” kirishima’s gentle voice breaks him from his thoughts, a big hand finding its way to katsuki’s knee, “are you okay dude?”
the touch sears through the expensive black joggers katsuki is wearing and he flinches so hard, he jostles the coffee table to his side. he barely sees kirishima’s brows furrow as he launches himself to standing, the telltale burn behind his eyes signaling the incoming wave of tears.
he can’t see katsuki like this, he fucking can’t.
katsuki marches to the kitchen, opening up the fridge and blankly staring into it while he tries to will the water back into his face and still the turmoil burning in his chest.
it feels like he’s aflame, like he’s suffocating, drowning.
he can hear kirishima’s steps behind him but thankfully stopping a reasonable distance away as he calls his name again, desperation coloring the word.
fuck.
with everything he has in him, katsuki grabs a random bottle from the refrigerator (a smoothie eijirou made for him with far too much kale and too little milk and a little note attached with his name and a smiley face. he’s gonna be sick.) and turns to face him, a strained, shaky grimace painting his lips.
“that’s-“ his voice cracks hard and he desperately clears his throat, blinking hard when he sees eijirou reach out for him and stop. “that’s fuckin’— that’s great. ‘m happy for you.”
the words feel like glass inching their way out of his throat and while he knows he sounds anything but, the words seem to do the trick, kirishima’s face lighting up like a fucking christmas tree.
“that means so much to me, man!” this time, he doesn’t stop himself from wrapping katsuki up in a hug, the full body contact sending a wracking shiver through his body. “and don’t worry! we’ll still hang out all the time and i’ll — yes! — finally be able to introduce you to kaito — you’re gonna love him, and-“
katsuki has to tune him out, if just to keep a hold on his sanity because otherwise, he’s gonna break.
he keeps it together through the rest of the conversation about kaito, tuning in only to give time appropriate grunts and hums while pretending like his entire world isn’t imploding in on itself.
he keeps it together, miraculously, as kirishima packs up his things, the evidence of their entwined lives for the past five years disappearing into cardboard boxes over the span of a few weeks.
he even keeps it together when he meets kaito on the move out date, even if it’s just barely. kaito is handsome — tall, taller than katsuki, with windswept brown hair, bright brown eyes and a dimple in his left cheek. if he wasn’t so fucking in love with eiji, he wouldn’t mind taking a piece out of him, but as it were, the sight of kaito makes him genuinely sick to his stomach.
it’s even worse that kaito is so nice. his quirk is even nicer — some nature type that makes it impossible for plants to die when touched by him. they turn to him like he’s the fucking sun and eiji does too.
by the time all kirishima’s stuff is packed up in the back of kaito’s truck, bile is burning at the back of katsuki’s throat as he says his final goodbye to kiri in the way of a bone crushing hug that doesn’t last as long as he wishes, as he craves.
kiri sends him a blinding smile as he climbs into the passenger seat of the truck, looking all too at home against the worn blue leather seats.
it’s now when katsuki wishes he was a little less observant because the hand kaito gently places on kirishima’s thigh and the subsequent full body blush makes him sick.
he waits on the curb the appropriate amount of time as the pair drive away before racing back into his building, up the stairs, into his unit and straight to the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet and heaving, chills wracking his body despite the sweat on his brow.
nothing comes out (praise whoever above because katsuki hates vomiting) and he slumps against the porcelain, resting his heated skin against the toilet seat.
he thought… fuck, katsuki has no idea what he thought, but he didn’t expect it to hurt this bad. he feels a little like he’s dying and lot like he’ll never be okay again. that kirishima walked out with his heart and all he’ll be for the rest of his life is a walking husk of a human being.
a wave of nausea overtakes him again and he debates leaning back over the toilet, but exhaustion overwhelms him and he falls asleep against the wall of his bathroom, sweaty, sick, and heartbroken.
(the next morning, he wakes up to a pounding headache and two texts from eijirou.
he drinks a shit ton of water first and pops an advil before opening the messages.
EIJI (18:21) : just got to kaito’s! dude it’s so nice i can’t believe ill be living here now ><
katsuki has to take a deep breath to fight against the wave of pain that hits him right in the gut, but he keeps reading, the second text simultaneously warming him and twisting the knife.
EIJI (18:25) : i’m gonna miss you so much kats T^T so weird living without you
he stares at the message until his vision swims before liking the second message and turning off his phone, tossing it onto the couch and trudging to his bedroom, slamming the door behind him.)
the next few weeks prove to be incredibly difficult.
a new case is brought to best jeanist’s desk and as the best sidekick at the agency, he’s placed in charge of heading the search and capture of an elusive invisibility quirk villain.
the days are long and exhausting, and more often than not, he doesn’t even have time to miss kirishima or notice his things missing from the apartment — he gets home, makes a barebones meal and collapses on the couch for what feels like a four hour nap until he has to turn back around and do it all over again.
it’s sustainable until it isn’t.
a few too many missed meals and restless hours of sleep has him passing out in a morning briefing, prompting best jeanist to send him home for a mandatory two week “vacation.”
it’s a prison sentence, is what it is.
at home, there’s nothing to distract him from the utter lack of kirishima, from the idea that the one person who has seen all of him and loved him anyway has left.
most days it’s too much to bear, so instead, he sleeps.
the usual tidiness of his space slowly deteriorates as he wastes away, waking only to scarf down whatever is left in his refrigerator before going right back to bed.
his friends text him often — hanta, denki, even fuckin’ hitoshi — but he ignores them all. the texts from kirishima are the hardest to delete, all concerned words and pleas for them to just talk, but he does it anyway.
it’s better this way, he tells himself. this way, no one else is dragged down by his self pity.
izuku ends up being the one to break the streak on day nine of radio silence.
a knock resounds at his door and he ignores it, pulling his blankets high above his mussed blonde hair, effectively hiding him from view as he hopes whoever is there spontaneously combusts or, better yet, just leaves.
when the knocks stop, he believes the latter has just occurred and he sighs in relief, completely missing the sound of metal creaking and his doorknob falling to the ground.
he’s debating on taking another melatonin to find the sweet release of sleep once more when his bedroom door opens up and he startles, launching up out of bed, hands and quirk at the ready to destroy the intruder, but he’s slow, too slow.
izuku is on him in a moment, pinning him to the bed and disregarding his gnashing teeth and cursing to look him over with a detached gaze.
“katsuki,” he says, voice firm in effectively shutting him up, despite the way he wriggles for freedom (so ineffectively, it’s embarrassing), “you look like dogshit.”
a harsh bark of laughter escapes katsuki’s throat and even from his angle where he’s pressed into his pillows, he sees izuku’s expression soften.
“you���ve lost your tact, deku,” he responds, his words gravelly from disuse. izuku scoffs but lets him up, taking a step over a pile of clothes on the ground to lean against the desk opposite of the bed.
with his newfound freedom, katsuki sits up, absentmindedly rubbing his now sore shoulder, the pain oddly grounding. izuku watches the motion with the intense focus he’s carried throughout his entire life, though he’s a far cry from the boy who used to break his bones and cry over injured birds.
now, he’s built like a brick house, forest green curls tapered into a flattering modern undercut, the fat from his cheeks transforming into something more chiseled and adult. his eyes aren’t as soft either — they’re tired and, as he looks at katsuki’s form, tinged with worry.
“where have you been? no one has heard from you in a week.”
katsuki rolls his eyes, looking away from the gaze that pins him, the gaze he tried so hard to get to look at him without fear. there isn’t a hint of fear in them now, but katsuki is afraid there’ll be disappointment and that’s almost worse.
“none of your fuckin’ business,” he grunts out and he immediately knows it was the wrong response. besides eijirou, izuku knows him the best and after all they’ve been through, he doesn’t deserve this.
he never deserved any of it.
with that thought spinning around in his head, katsuki rubs a hand over his face with a quiet curse, leaning back against the headboard.
“fuck, i’m sorry,” it comes out as a mutter, but its effect on izuku is instantaneous. the previous hardness of his expression melts and he moves closer, his bushy brows furrowing together. katsuki can barely look at him but he does anyway, he makes himself. izuku deserves that much (he deserves so much more but one day at a time).
“we’re just worried about you,” izuku says quietly but without pity. never pity. “what’s going on?”
maybe it’s the way izuku’s freckled face reminds him far too much of eijirou’s own spattering of constellations or maybe it’s the fact katsuki hasn’t eaten in over fifteen hours, but he shatters in that moment, crystal tears filling up carmine eyes.
if izuku is startled at katsuki’s sudden change of emotions, he doesn’t show it, instead moving to envelop katsuki in his arms, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of his shoulder and let go.
katsuki tells him everything and by the end of it, his head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton and his eyes are puffy and red, but he feels better than he did all week.
izuku just looks thoughtful from his place sitting near the end of katsuki’s bed, the pair parting somewhere in between katsuki’s admission of throwing up when seeing kaito and kirishima together and his accidental confession of stealing one of eijirou’s hoodies from one of the boxes (it sits right under his pillow, but izuku doesn’t need to know that).
“i’m really sorry, katsuki. that fucking sucks,” izuku ends up saying and katsuki’s initial reaction is anger. he spills his heart and guts out to izuku and all he gets is that sucks? but when he opens his mouth to give deku a piece of his mind, he realizes that it does suck. it sucks royal ass and there’s nothing he or izuku can do to fix it - at least not yet - but the acknowledgment, without any attempt to give advice or make everything better, does wonders for katsuki.
he pushes out a watery laugh, his lip ticking up into a smile - for the first time in weeks - and izuku lights up a little. “yeah. it really fuckin’ does.”
the smile izuku sends back is blinding and for the one thousandth time, katsuki is reminded why the symbol of peace is just that.
they talk for a little while longer before izuku forces katsuki into the shower. he takes a long time, letting the scalding hot water turn cold before he emerges to find that his childhood best friend has started cleaning up the mess that has become of his apartment.
katsuki watches on for a moment until izuku raises an eyebrow at him and offers him a trash bag which he takes wordlessly, a wave of affection crashing over him so quickly tears come to his eyes. he blinks them away but he doesn’t miss the knowing smile izuku sends his way.
the pair work together in relative silence until the apartment is spotless and katsuki’s stomach is grumbling something fierce. izuku makes his way to the fridge but is met with nothing but a half carton of eggs and a rotting smoothie in the far corner, a sticky note attached to the lid. he fixes katsuki with a small, sad smile before digging through his drawers for a takeout menu.
when the food arrives, katsuki finishes it in record time and he can’t tell if it’s the fact they remembered to make it extra spicy or if it’s because he literally can’t remember the last time he had an actual meal, but it’s the best thing he’s eaten in a long time.
after they finish, izuku turns on the television and they both spend the evening shit talking a d-list hero film until they fall asleep on the couch, bodies slumped against one another, holding each other up.
that night seems to have knocked something loose in katsuki because the next morning, he wakes with his first alarm and heads to the gym for the first time since his mandatory vacation. by the end of it, his arms are burning from quirk overuse and he’s completely wiped, but he feels more like himself than he has in ages.
he finally texts his friends back (barring one) and they greet him back with high levels of enthusiasm and concern. it feels good to be received back into the fold with the love he’d thought he’d lost, his cheeks hurting with how much he’s smiling as the messages roll in.
katsuki finishes out his sentence and goes back to work on the fourteenth day with an earnest apology to best jeanist and a new lead on the villain after pouring over the case files in between hyperintensive workouts at the gym. best jeanist is quietly impressed, but the squeeze to the shoulder he gives katsuki tells him he was more worried about him than he let on.
the next few weeks pass in a blur, but this time it’s more pleasant. he watches shitty movies with izuku, deletes instagram when he sees a photo of kaito and kirishima on holiday in america, starts attending a pottery class on the weekends he has off with mina and denki, continues to ignore the texts from eijirou that are becoming more and more infrequent as time goes on, smokes with hanta and shinsou one evening and laughs harder than he ever has, and life feels like it’s slowly gaining its footing once again.
he realizes three months after kirishima had moved out that he should probably start looking for a new roommate or downgrade to something more reasonable. he seriously considers the latter, but when he looks at the space he cultivated right after he graduated from ua, he realizes he can’t quite give the place up.
he posts an ad on craigslist that night.
the next time the group goes drinking (kirishima is suspiciously absent, despite his reentry into the country a few days prior — mina mentioned it), katsuki brings up his roommate problem and denki latches on, his cheeks pleasantly flushed from the wine he’s been sipping on.
“oh, oh! i know - i know the perrrrfeeccttt roommate for you,” he slurs, toying with the earring dangling from his ear and fixing his excited gaze on katsuki’s face. “they’re like.. the besttt, dude, you’d - you’d love them.”
the words are vague, but when katsuki opens up his mouth to ask for more details, denki’s eyes widen and he rushes off to the bathroom, a hand over his mouth, nearly tripping over the his platform shoes and maxi skirt.
the topic of the roommate is quickly forgotten then, but it resurfaces a few days later at pottery class.
katsuki is glaring holes into the side of his slightly lopsided vase on the pottery wheel, internally going through the steps to see where he went wrong. denki to the left of him laughs and chatters as he makes his, frankly, hideous ceramic, the clay warped beyond recognition.
something in his one-sided conversation brings his attention to katsuki who’s startled at the sound of his name coming from denki’s mouth.
“yo, you still looking for a roommate?” he asks, tilting his head as a strand of hair falls from the lengthening ponytail at the back of his head. without alcohol in his system, denki looks a little more hesitant to be approaching this topic, but does so when he isn’t met with a howitzer to the face.
the group doesn’t know much of anything, just that kirishima and katsuki aren’t talking, so they tend to tread lightly around the subject. katsuki appreciates it, genuinely, but he’s not going to shatter at the sound of eijirou’s name - not anymore. it hurts still, of course, but the pain has dulled to a steady hum that he can ignore if he tries hard enough.
“yeah,” he grunts, turning his eyes back at his vase. “why? you got someone in mind?”
denki grins, showing off the lightning tooth gems on his canine. “hell yeah! i’ll give you their number — they teach the watercolor class here on tuesdays and they’re so cool.”
he speaks about you with obvious adoration and katsuki belatedly wonders if the two of you are dating, but doesn’t voice this curiousity, instead wordlessly handing denki his phone to put in your contact as “ROOMIE” with what feels like a hundred paint emojis after it. katsuki smiles at his friend’s antics and can’t quite bring himself to change it.
the colorful contact remains untouched for about another week until he gets a rent notice and remembers the little paint palettes in his phone.
in the middle of his morning workout, he taps out a quick text to you, before tossing his phone to the side and promptly forgetting about it.
katsuki [09:27] : Hey. I’m Bakugou. Denki gave me your number. I’m looking for a roommate. You interested?
ROOMIE [10:16] : oh hey yeah i’m interested
ROOMIE [10:17] : do you want 2 meet td
ROOMIE [10:17] : i’m at the cafe on 5th n cherry
ROOMIE [10:17] : in the back
ROOMIE [10:19] : i’ll b here 4 a while
ROOMIE [10:19] : just come whenever
katsuki only sees the message at the end of his workout a half hour later. the number of messages in a row and less than ideal grammar makes him turn up his nose but he quickly taps out an affirmative, before dapping izuku up and heading to the showers.
he makes it to the cafe twenty minutes later, scanning the place to see what he assumes is you tucked away in the back corner, your table full with books, papers, paints, your laptop and at least four empty cups of coffee.
katsuki raises an eyebrow at the sight but walks over anyway, telling himself he’s doing denki a favor by meeting someone he thinks so highly of so he won’t feel too bad when he tells him it’s not going to work out.
you don’t look up when he stops at your table, too occupied with the piece of art in front of you, your face twisted up in intense concentration.
you’re quite pretty, he notes subconsciously, the hard set of your eyes and one track focus reminding him an awful lot of himself when he’s swept into a difficult case. your complete unawareness gives him more time to take you in, though, so he can’t even bring himself to be too annoyed.
you’re wearing a bright yellow chargebolt hoodie that clashes terribly with your garishly pink acid queen baggy sweatpants. a pair of cellophane socks cover your feet where they’re stretched out in the seat across from you and your shoes (made to look like the red ones from deku’s costume, jesus christ) sit haphazardly beneath the table, empty.
it’s such a bizarre sight, katsuki almost laughs — almost — but he doesn’t, instead opting to knock your feet off the chair opposite you so he can sit down.
“a big fan of heroes, huh?” he asks, the action coupled with his words startling you so bad, your knees hit the underside of the table, threatening to upend all the precariously balanced objects decorating the surface.
you look angry at first before you realize who it is and once you do, you just look relieved. it’s an unusual reaction, one katsuki rarely gets from anyone who isn’t actively in danger, especially strangers.
“you scared the absolute shit out of me,” you say tiredly, rubbing a hand over your face and sighing. katsuki watches you recognize your own impoliteness in real time, a sheepish smile spreading across your lips.
pretty.
“fuck, sorry,” you extend a paint splotched hand to him and he takes it, shaking it firmly before it falls back to his side, fingers tingling. “i get super into shit and completely forget where i am. kami gets onto me about it all the time. says i’m prime villain bait or some shit. i think he’s saying it most of the time to freak me out, but he might actually be right. don’t ever tell him i said that though.”
katsuki can’t help but stare at you as you ramble at him with the familiarity of someone who’s known him for months, not just a few minutes. it’s uncomfortable in a strangely nice way and he can feel his muscles loosen as the nerves melt away.
“aw fuck, i’m sorry again. i didn’t introduce myself.”
you give him your name, offering your hand out for him to shake once more which he does with an amused look painting his expression. you don’t seem to notice, your attention being grabbed by the piece in front of you again.
“i’m bakugou,” he offers after a moment of silence. you don’t even look up when you respond.
“i know. you sent me that text, remember? also you’re like, super fucking famous, dynamight,” you look up at him through your lashes, teasing, and heat unexpectedly blooms on the back of his neck.
what the fuck?
in a bid to gain back control of the conversation (and himself) katsuki asks, “what’re you workin’ on? dunceface said you’re a painter or some shit.”
your nose crinkles at the moniker, but you don’t say anything about it, instead turning the sketchbook around for katsuki to look at it.
the piece is stunning, but it���s visceral and he can’t help but lean back a little when looking at it, stomach dropping.
a deer lays on the ground, gutted, blood, guts and viscera pouring out of its abdomen as a figure just out of frame reaches inside and pulls out its heart.
katsuki is disgusted but intrigued and that feeling only amplifies when you press a finger to the painting and activate your quirk.
suddenly, the hand in the painting moves so realistically he flinches — he can hear the deer’s heart beat, can hear the way the blood trickles through the blades of grass, can smell the coppery tang and can feel the rush of spring wind blowing past his face.
it’s like he’s there, in the piece, and he feels both a little sick and also so alive.
“holy fuck,” he whispers, shivering, and you laugh, deactivating your quirk, bringing him back to the real world. the sounds of the cafe flood in, replacing the smell of blood and spring fields with coffee and loose tea leaves. he shakes his head, eyes a little blown when they look at you.
your expression is playfully amused as you bring your sketchbook closer to your person, resting your head on the palm of your hand.
“sorry,” you offer, but you don’t sound very sorry at all, “should’ve asked before i used my quirk on you. not everyone likes that shit.”
the words are so nonchalant but you look like you’re poised to watch him get up and leave, never looking back. katsuki doesn’t think he could leave if he tried.
“nah,” his voice feels raw so he tries to clear it but the feeling doesn’t go away. “you’re good. just surprised me, ‘s all.”
your mouth parts in muted surprise and you tilt your head, appraising him like you’re seeing him for the first time. katsuki feels surprisingly bare as you study him, but he doesn’t drop his eye contact, despite the heavy pounding of his heart from your intensity.
the pair of you sit in silence like that for a moment or two longer before you break it, asking him if he wants something to drink. before he can tell you he doesn’t drink coffee though, you flag down the waiter, ask for a hot cup of tea (“darjeeling or oolong,” you ask the waiter, not even sparing katsuki another glance, “he doesn’t look like he fucks with green tea.” it’s true. he doesn’t. his heart does a stutter step in his chest.) and when it arrives to the table, katsuki asks you to move in with him.
you agree.
the move in process is so quick and easy that when it’s done, it feels like you’ve been living there for years.
your belongings integrate seamlessly into his own. your books about art history and watercolor technique find their way onto his bookshelves filled with classic japanese literature and hero history.
(he comes home one day to see you propped up on the couch with a thick book on the origin of quirks and heroism in japan that you stole borrowed from his collection. he just cocks his head at you when you meet his gaze and you shrug.
“i’m not japanese, i don’t know any of this shit,” you say in way of an explanation. “besides, this is important to you. i wanna learn.”
you turn back to your book like you didn’t just completely shake the foundation of katsuki’s world for a moment and he stumbles off to the kitchen, heat burning at the tips of his ears.)
your plants find their way on every windowsill and while, once upon a time, it would’ve made him think of kaito and that sick, curling jealousy would wrap around his chest and squeeze, now? it just makes him think of you.
(it helps you can’t really keep them alive so nearly every other week the two of you are replanting something new in the pots and vases katsuki makes in pottery class.)
your favorite foods join his in the refrigerator and the two of you take your meals together more often than not. katsuki cooks and you clean, either eating on the couch while watching a documentary or at the dining room table as you talk and talk and talk.
(the first time katsuki misses dinner, you wait up for him, even forgoing your own meal to eat with him when he returns at 2 in the morning.
“don’t do that shit again,” he grumbles when he finds out what you’ve done, his scarlet eyes piercing your own. you shrug, unafraid, tired eyes trailing lazily over his tank top clad form.
“don’t tell me what to do,” you retort after a moment, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips, “i like eating with you.”
your honesty, unabashed and loud, always bowls him over and he has to take a sip of his ice water to feel steady again.)
the relationship between the two of you is easy, for once, and katsuki finds himself looking forward to coming home, to you and your witty comments, sharp intelligence, and your uncanny ability to see right through him.
he swears it must be a hidden quirk, the way you seem to just know — know what he wants and needs without even asking and your accuracy rate is pretty much unbeatable.
after a particularly bad mission where the property damage is unusually high and the civilian casualties match, the leading hero news journalist puts out a scathing piece about him, sending him into an emotional spiral.
you find him that afternoon, curled up in bed, staring at the window blankly. you crawl up in bed beside him and you don’t speak, don’t offer him coddling words of “everything’s gonna be okay,” or “you did the best you could,” because if that was katuski’s best, he doesn’t fucking deserve to be a hero. not at all.
but no, you don’t offer him empty words of placation. instead, you brush a lock of his hair off of his forehead and look at him with that all-seeing gaze, your expression neither soft nor hard, but understanding.
“you’re not gonna let that shit happen again, right?” you ask, tilting your head. katsuki shakes his head vehemently, the mere notion of the same amount of dead bodies on his watch sending a fire through his chest as he sits up.
“fuck no.”
“good. now come here, i painted something new and i need to see if i get ‘good job’ or ‘holy fuck that’s shitty’ eyebrows from you.”
and that’s that.
you’ve even given him a nickname and it inexplicably makes his skin feel tight, like he needs to tear it off and show you, like it’s a display of how you make him feel.
it’s a lazy sunday afternoon, one he’s required to take off by best jeanist, and he’s spent it next to you on the couch, listening to a few of your records while you paint a forest scene, a skittish doe front and center with rivulets of water streaming from beneath it.
occasionally, you’ll activate your quirk and katsuki can suddenly hear birds chirping and the creak of the wood before he’s back in your cramped flat, the sounds of city sounding below.
it’s jarring and yet, comforting, both your presence and the quirk, in a way that still doesn’t make sense to him yet.
“bambi, are you even listening to me?” the term of what he assumes is endearment startles him out of his thoughts and he eyes dart to yours, an amused expression on your your brow.
“who the fuck are you callin’ bambi?” in his shock, he can hardly conjure up the ability to sound pissed, confusion instead hijacking his words, making them come out soft and gruff.
“you, idiot,” you reply, like it makes all the sense in the world. “you’re like a deer to me. something in you is skittish, afraid and yet, you’re still so beautiful.”
what the fuck.
katsuki’s breath completely evaporates from his lungs and he feels like he’s going to pass out at your frank words. it doesn’t help that you don’t break eye contact or look embarrassed to have said something so, so… intimate.
he can’t even begin to parse through how to respond to something like that, but you know that too, flicking a little bit of paint water at him with the tip of your brush. he sees the olive branch for what it is and he grabs it with both hands, the annoyed sound rising from his throat on autopilot as you laugh, but your eyes are still so knowing.
he thinks about that day everyday after with sickening butterflies flapping around in his stomach and those only magnify when you choose to call him the new nickname every single chance you get.
katsuki would not dream of stopping you.
it’s about two months into you moving in with him and he’s going out drinking with the squad. he’s invited you about thirty times but every time you decline, citing that you’re behind on grading art projects and that show you were looking forward to is airing tonight.
(you’re a substitute art teacher at the local elementary school, a fact that genuinely shocked katsuki when he found out.
you’d laughed, wide and unapologetic at his reaction.
“i know i’ve got quite the potty mouth but i clean it up for the kids,” you say, eyes twinkling. “they kinda love me, i think, but it might just be the bob ross videos i put on for them every friday.”)
katsuki chooses not to push but he knows that he’ll end up cutting the night short, just so he can sprawl next to you on the couch and watch you paint.
you seem to know it too (how?? secret quirk, it must be) if the knowing look you give him isn’t enough as he goes to change.
when he returns to the living room, he’s clad in a nice black button down that’s unbuttoned enough to show off the strong planes of his chest and his thin gold chain, and a pair of black jeans that fit him and his tiny waist incredibly well.
katsuki knows he looks good in this outfit, but he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he stands in front of you, your eyes dragging down his body as slow as molasses, igniting the skin as though it was a physical touch.
your eyes meet his once again, molten and hot, and katsuki’s knees nearly buckle at the sight. he’s never seen you look like that - not at him, not at anyone, and he finds that he quite likes to be the center of your attention in this way.
“you clean up nicely, bambi,” you murmur, your voice a lower timber in comparison to your normal speech.
the blush spreads immediately to all visible parts of his body and he can fucking see you holding back a grin. “fuck off,” is all he can say before he spins on his heel, grabs his keys, and marches out the door.
it takes everything in him to continue walking, out and up to the train station and then to the bar, because all he wants to do is turn right back around, back to your home and back to that lava-like gaze you pinned him with earlier.
it’s you that’s racing around in his mind when he pushes the door open to the bar, but all thoughts come to a complete, grinding halt when he sees kirishima at their usual table, surrounded by all their friends and grinning like he’d never left.
he looks different - after all, it’s been about a year since katsuki had seen him last. his hair is longer and his roots are grown out, his skin has taken on such a warm glow and it, impossibly, seems like he’s gotten even bigger somehow.
it’s also impossible to miss the black band on his ring finger signaling a new engagement ring which he figures is what they’re meant to be celebrating tonight, eyes belatedly catching on the comically tiny “i’m engaged!” sash hanging around his chest.
the sight of kirishima sends the most heinous bolt of anxiety through katsuki and now he really just wants to call you to come get him and take him home, to make him forget all about his unrequited love. he moves backwards to do just that, but he’s already been spotted by kirishima himself.
fuck.
katsuki is frozen as kirishima’s happy expression falters when he meets his eyes, cycling through shock, disbelief, stark hurt and then utter relief.
he can see the way kiri’s mouth forms “katsuki” from a distance as he puts down his drink and moves towards him, his feet completely frozen until they’re standing face to face (face to chest, really) for the first time in months.
“hey,” kirishima says, hesitantly, breathlessly, as his hands flutter uselessly at his sides, like he wants to just pick katsuki up but is stopping himself. “can we, uh, can we go outside and talk?”
katsuki just nods because what else is supposed to do? and as they move out, he catches the worried gazes of their friends watching the pair of them from the table. denki and izuku, the latter of whom knows the most (everything) and the former who managed to figure most of it out on his own.
(“takes one to know one,” he’d said, bitterly when he’d confronted katsuki a few weeks ago about his unexplained mandatory leave all those months ago. katsuki was confused until kaminari flipped around his phone to reveal a photo of him and hanta pressed tightly together in an embrace that was strictly platonic and yet, horribly intimate.
katsuki’s lips drew together into a tight line as he settled against the brick wall kami was leaning against, trying to light the cigarette hanging loosely from his lips.
“you’re too good for plain face,” he says after a moment, attempting to channel his inner you, blunt and honest. “you’re gonna find someone better.” and just like all his thoughts as of recently, they’d flitted right back to you.
denki had watched his face carefully, cigarette unlit, a thoughtful look crossing his own expression.
“yeah,” he concedes, “i will, won’t i?”)
katsuki gives the pair of them a nod, holding up a hand to izuku who looks like he wants to follow them out of the bar, despite the pounding in his chest and the way he suddenly feels unsteady on his feet as they leave the building to step right back out into the cool, fall air.
kirishima’s stance is awkward and since neither of them smoke, they both just stand there, barely looking at each other and waiting for the other person to speak up first.
“fuckin’ hell- what’d you wanna talk about kirishima?” katsuki grits out, tired of the waiting game and suddenly, immediately, so exhausted. all he wants to do is be curled up beside you, with your all seeing eyes and gentle utterances of “bambi” in his ear.
the tact he’d lost in his haste to get this over with stings kirishima whose brows furrow in annoyance. “what do i want to talk about? i haven’t seen you in a year, bakugou, not since i moved out and you completely cut me off with no explanation whatsoever. i want to know why. what - what did i do wrong?”
his voice breaks on the last word and it sounds so sad, so uncharacteristically eijirou, that katsuki flinches, finally looking over at kirishima to see a broken, pleading man who lost his best friend for nothing more than silly, stupid feelings.
at once, katsuki feels all the fucking idiot asshole he is and it’s staggering how much that thought makes him feel like shit. he could’ve reached out, he could’ve, but he was so worried that he wouldn’t have been able to keep it together, spending time with kiri, and as time passed, the issue became that so much time had passed and he had no idea how to navigate this all over again.
he runs a hand over his face, leaning against the brick facade of the bar. “fuck,” he whispers, gravel crunching underfoot as kiri steps closer.
“i - i miss you, kats,” kiri’s voice comes out quiet and thick, “i got engaged and all i wanted to do was call you, but you weren’t there, you weren’t speaking to me and i-“ he takes a shuddering breath and katsuki’s eyes fill with tears.
“i was in love with you.”
the sounds of the street fade out as katsuki finally turns to look at kirishima, the tears falling down his cheeks.
“wha- bakugou, what?”
“i was in love with you and i couldn’t fuckin’ - i couldn’t do it. not to myself, not to you.”
kirishima face is drawn, pale and mouth gaping. his mouth closes, then opens again, then snaps shut, his head shaking in disbelief.
“why didn’t you - fuck - why didn’t you ever say anything, man?”
katsuki scoffs, the sound wet with grief. “are you shittin’ me? why the hell would i do that?”
kiri shrugs, long, dark lashes sweeping his cheekbones, leaving tiny wet marks. a year ago, the sight would’ve filled katsuki with rabid butterflies, but now it remains just an observation, one made passively and without thinking.
“i should’ve told you somethin’, i fuckin’ know that now, but i was - i was scared. scared of you hating me, scared of losing you. but i went and fucked that one up anyway, so,” katsuki laughs, self deprecating, and kirishima shakes his head vehemently, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him into a tight hug.
katsuki’s throat is tight as he gives into the embrace, burying his face into kirishima’s shoulder.
“you haven’t lost me, kats, and you never will,” kirishima whispers, pulling apart far enough to press his forehead to katsuki’s, red eyes meeting red. “i mean, who else is gonna be my best man?”
katsuki’s eyes widen and he takes a step back. “don’t fuck with me.”
kirishima shakes his head, a wet laugh escaping his lips. “not fucking with you bro. you’re my best friend. i want you there beside me on the happiest day of my life.”
after everything, after the year of no contact and the absolutely shitty way katsuki treated him, kirishima still wants katsuki by his side?
he’s honored, he’s out of his depth, he’s fucking nauseous, and he really wants to go home and tell you.
“i met someone,” he blurts and kirishima looks startled at the change of subject, but takes it in stride, a smile tugging at his face.
“that’s so great, dude, congrats! what’s their name?”
katsuki breathes it out and when he does, he realizes something, the force of it hitting him like a steel beam to the head.
“i think i’m in love with them.”
kirishima blinks, taking in katsuki’s tense form. he looks like he’s about to run away.
“i’m so happy for you, kats. really, i am,” kiri says, before being taken off guard yet again by the hug katsuki initiates.
“of course i’ll be your best man, shitty hair. i fuckin’ missed you too,” he murmurs and he hears kirishima sniffle. “i gotta go but text me and we’ll get lunch tomorrow or some shit, okay? i’ve got a lot to catch up on.”
he pulls away to see eijirou’s big wet eyes stare down at him with unabashed care and love, and katsuki feels his heart swell.
he got his best friend back and now it’s time to get you.
kirishima agrees to the meetup wholeheartedly and lets katsuki go with a hearty pat on the back and a shouted “good luck!” over the sound of the rain that started up during the last moments of conversation before going back inside the bar.
katsuki considers blasting his way to you, but he knows the optics would be incredibly unfavorable and his pr department would have his head, so he races to the train station instead and hops aboard, his mind racing with thoughts of you.
his hair is plastered to his forehead with rain by the time he gets to his apartment building and the button up is molded to his body like a second skin. he’s uncomfortable, of course, but he hardly pays it any mind because before he knows it, he’s unlocking and pushing open the door to your shared flat.
he’s home.
you startle from your place upside down on the couch, your paints and sketchbook cluttering the coffee table at the side while the tv plays an ancient looking cooking show quietly.
katsuki is bowled over by the sight, the weight of what he now knows as love sending him stumbling a little on his feet. he has to hold onto the doorjamb to keep his footing.
you sit up, observing, and you tilt your head. “you’re back early,” you comment, curiosity lacing your words.
he nods, not trusting his voice as finally steps past the threshold, kicking off his shoes and putting on a pair of hideous hawks themed slippers that you’d bought for him on your own birthday.
you hum thoughtfully before standing and disappearing down the hallway, katsuki’s eyes glued to you as you go. he can hear the sounds of you rummaging around in the bathroom, his feet frozen to the floor when you return, a fluffy towel in hand.
“you should shower, of course,” you say with a grin, opening up the towel and draping it over his head to dry it before moving on to the rest of his sopping body. “but i figured i’d keep you from dripping all over that ugly rug you’re obsessed with.”
katsuki doesn’t respond, can’t, and you don’t push or question, instead diligently wiping him down until he’s marginally more dry, eg, not actively dripping on the hardwood.
you move to go dispose of the towel and katsuki’s hand shoots out, not of his own volition, to hold you in place. it’s here he notices how close you’ve been standing to him, your breath wafting over his collarbones.
“bambi?” you question, unafraid of him, just lightly confused, but you don’t move away from him, somehow picking up his need for closeness without him saying anything, and he snaps.
“i love you,” he whispers, the explosion in his chest coming out in just those three gruff words, his carmine eyes boring into your own with an intensity you match.
a small smile spreads over your lips and your eyes light up, joy thrumming over your skin. “i love you too, katsuki.”
it’s perfect and katsuki can’t stop himself from cupping your face and pressing your lips together.
the kiss is gentle and chaste, your hands dropping the towel, coming up to rest on his forearms and holding him in place as you move your lips softly against his own.
katsuki feels like the rest of the world could implode right now, could be on fire or flooding or being overrun by villains and none of it would matter, not a single fucking thing because you’re in his arms and you’re kissing him back and you love him.
these thoughts ignite a hunger in him, a flame stoking in his belly, and he pushes further into the kiss, his hands sliding from their place on your face. one cups the back of your neck while the other slides down your back, pressing you firmly against the front of his body.
he’s almost giddy, having you like this, and he’s sure you can feel it because you’re smiling into the kiss like this is the happiest day of your life.
he thinks it’s his.
you continue trading kisses like this in your foyer, but it only escalates when your tongue flickers across katsuki’s bottom lip and you sigh softly, back arching against him.
katsuki has to break apart from you so he doesn’t consume you in that moment, but you don’t go far (you never do), your foreheads pressed together while you breathe in each others air.
“fuckin’ hell,” he chokes out and you laugh. “can i please - fuck - i need you.”
his honesty shuts you up quick and you nod, biting your lip. “take me to bed, bambi.”
and that he does.
katsuki’s hand finds yours and he pulls you towards his bedroom — you’ve been in there countless times, to watch movies, to nap, to read with one another, but of course, it was never like this.
the tension is thick but it’s not uncomfortable at all. you walk over to his bed and plop down on it like you’ve been in this situation a thousand times. the action soothes any residual anxiety katsuki might’ve had as he walks over to you, your heated gaze tracking his movements the entire time.
“take this shit off,” he grumbles, tugging at the garish all might crewneck covering your abdomen and you swat his hand away with an amused look.
he can feel his pout forming at your smile, but you just shake your head. “don’t tell me what to do, bambi,” but still, you raise grip the bottom of the thick fabric, lifting it up and over your head before letting it drop to the ground, leaving you bare.
or almost bare, if not for the objectively hideous, brightly colored, thin, cheap and lacey dynamight themed underwear covering your body.
“what the fuck is this?” katsuki doesn’t mean for his question to come out so reverent, but seeing you clad in his colors sends a bolt of heat down his spine so strong, he’s quite literally never been harder in his life.
you don’t seem to notice (but you always do), tilting your head at him with a grin playing on your lips. “they were on sale. didn’t think you’d ever see them.”
katsuki’s brows furrow at that, his hands tightening from their place on your hips. “who the fuck else was going to?”
you shake your head, like there’s something he isn’t getting. “no one. it’s always been you.”
“fuckin’-“ katsuki surges for you, claiming your lips with his with an urgency that had previously been lost. you respond in kind and this time, you’re letting out all these quiet gasps and sighs, writhing beneath him. he has to see you fall apart.
he reluctantly detaches his face from yours, kissing down your neck and sucking marks into the thin skin there, one of your hands sliding up to tangle into his hair, keeping him close.
a moan escapes him at the feeling of your fingers on his scalp, nearly getting lost in the mindless action, but he has to keep going. he makes it to your chest, laving his tongue over one of your nipples, flicking the hardened bud with the tip.
“f-fuck, bambi,” you outright moan and katsuki has to grind down against the mattress, his free hand sliding to pinch and pull at your other nipple.
your body can’t figure out whether to arch towards or away from his ministrations, which katsuki takes special delight in. you’re always so in control of yourself, even when you’re not, so it’s beyond rewarding to be responsible for your destruction.
“bambi - fuck - ‘suki, fuck me,” you groan and katsuki’s eyes roll back before he pulls off your nipple with a pop, his lips red and slick.
“nah.”
“nah?” you parrot, leaning up on your elbows with the closest thing he’s seen to annoyance directed at him written all over your face.
“nah. ‘m gonna make you come first.” katsuki grins, feral, and you shudder.
“get to it then, hero.” the moniker, while meant to be sarcastic and biting, just makes katsuki moan, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your (dynamight !!) underwear and tossing them to the floor.
he leans in, propping up one of your legs over his shoulder to bury his nose in the crease between hip and thigh, inhaling deeply. you smell sharp and tangy and so you that he couldn’t stop himself from taking a lick, entrance to clit, if he tried.
you sigh at that first touch of his wet muscle, melting in the bed while one hand remains buried in his hair and the other splays above your head. you watch him move with that intense look and you don’t look away so he doesn’t either.
he doesn’t look away as he slurps loudly at your entrance, tasting the wetness that’s gathered there with a pleased hum. doesn’t look away as he swirls his tongue around your clit, pulling a sharp gasp from your chest. doesn’t look away as he picks up pace, swirling, flicking and sucking until you’re chanting his name and “bambi,” your body tensing up as you buck your hips up into his face. doesn’t look away when you cum hard, soaking his lips and chin to which he eagerly groans, slurping up all you have to offer.
you pull him up to stop him from licking you through your aftershocks, kissing him hard once he gets to eye level.
“please,” you beg, eyes wide and urgent. who is he to deny you or himself?
katsuki stands and shucks off his boxers in record time, wrapping a hand around his cock that’s hard and leaking, the tip bright red.
your eyes eat him up hungrily, lingering on the way his precum spills over his knuckles with every slow stroke.
“i’m gonna suck your pretty cock tomorrow, preferably before breakfast,” you comment breathlessly. katsuki has to wrap his fingers around the base of his cock to keep himself from coming in that moment, taking a deep breath and glaring at you when you giggle.
“condom?” you shake your head, leaning back and spreading your legs to show off the wet mess he’s made of you.
“‘m clean and i’m in love with you. fuck me. now.” you can’t even sound commanding, not with the whine lying beneath your words, giving away how bad you want him. how bad you want this.
if the way katsuki’s cock legitimately jumped at your words is anything to go by, he obviously feels the same.
“goddamit, can’t fuckin’ say shit like that to me, jesus,” he rambles, crawling back onto the bed and notching the fat head of his dick into your entrance before leaning down to kiss you, open mouthed and messy.
he pushes into you when your tongue is halfway down his throat and he nearly chokes on it. you’re so soft and wet and velvety — he’s gonna cum so fucking fast, holy shit.
of course, you know it too, know him like the back of your hand because you squeeze even tighter around him and slide your hand down between your bodies to rub frantically at your clit.
“you - oh, god, you feel so fucking good bambi, fucking me so well, always taking care of me,” your words slur together as your eyes roll back, his hips slamming into yours at a quick pace.
he wants you to cum first, wants it more than anything, but the dirty talk coupled with the way you feel clenching around him has him shooting off faster than he expected, a low, long whine leaving him.
his hips stutter against yours and fireworks go off behind his eyelids. it feels like he’s coming forever as he humps into you and that feeling is only prolonged by you coming around him, your cunt clenching so tightly, you force him out, his spend spreading all over your mons and pelvis with a choked groan.
after another long moment, he slumps against you, exhausted and happier than he’s ever been.
you hum contentedly, wrapping your arm around him to pull him half on top of you, your body succumbing to the tiredness that’s so quickly overtaken you.
“i love you, katsuki,” you whisper, the phrase thick with sleep and emotion. katsuki feels burning at the backs of his eyes so he buries his face in the crook of your neck to hide, kissing your shoulder when the words don’t come.
you know, though. you always do.
“fuck, bambi, we’re gonna be late!” you screech from your (now) shared room, the sound muffled from where your head is buried in the closet.
by the door, katsuki is trying (and failing) to tie his bow tie, the red fabric remaining uncooperative in his hands. he groans in frustration, raising a hand to run it through his hair but stopping short when he remembers how you painstakingly fixed it for him a few hours ago.
“i know! it’s this stupid fuckin’ tie!” he shouts back, staring at himself in the little mirror you purchased, smiling a little despite himself when he remembers that trip to the home decor store with you, picking out new items that represent the both of you for your apartment.
speak of the devil, you step up behind him, looking gorgeous in a red, floor length dress, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“you look really good bambi,” you grin, fingers dragging down his abdomen to rest on his waistband, but his hands stop your downward motion while he gives you a halfhearted glare through the reflection.
“don’t start that shit,” katsuki turns around in your hold to face you, your hands immediately finding his undone tie. you work efficiently, face so scrunched up and focused that katsuki can only lift your face to press a kiss to your lips.
you melt, kissing him back easily and when you pull away, his lips are tinged with your lip products, marked by you. “you have a little something…” you trail off, wiping it away, not realizing how he stares at you like you’re the sun and he has no other choice but to revolve around you.
“marry me,” katsuki blurts, heat burning at the tips of his ears after a moment of you looking at him in utter disbelief.
he worries for a split second that you’re going to say no, but then your face splits into the most blinding smile he’s ever seen.
“are you proposing to me right now, bakugou katsuki?” you tease, fingers toying with the tie around his neck.
he nods, his hands finding your waist as he pulls you closer to him. “so what if i am?”
you laugh and nod, tears filling your lash line as the lighthearted facade drops to reveal you, earnest and honest and so so in love with him.
katsuki has no idea how he got so lucky, what he did in a past life to have you in his life and agreeing to be with him, in his life forever.
“of fucking course, i’ll marry you,” you say, grabbing his face and kissing him hard. “and i want nothing more than to make love to you on our brand new ikea sofa, but if we’re late to kiri’s wedding, he’s gonna kill me and make you watch.”
even the empty threat you make through your happy tears centers you in katsuki’s life, like you know that you are the center of his world, of his entire universe. you always know, know him better than he knows himself and there isn’t anyone on this whole earth who he’d rather be with than you.
he doesn’t tell you any of this though, blinking back tears instead and agreeing with a laugh, before finally ushering the pair of you out the door.
the thing is, katsuki doesn’t have to tell you.
you already know.
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leonw4nter · 2 days
Text
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Silver Screen
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RE2R!Leon x F!Reader modern AU (The 300 followers special!)
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You walk into the room, an iPad opened to the latest installment of the fanfiction series you’ve been following for quite some time carried in the nook of your arm and salted caramel boba tea in the other. Setting the sugary drink on the table beside your spot on the couch, you temporarily put your iPad down to get into a comfortable position in the small pillow and blanket nest you’ve made for yourself. With a pleased sigh and an excited grin, you take a long sip of the beverage before finally picking the iPad up and have the coziest time of your life.
You were having a solid few hours of the coziest time of your life until you heard some soft sniffling coming from somewhere in the living room along with the faint pads of feet against the wooden floorboards. You look up, your eyes finally focused on something else other than pixels that formed words on a bright screen. There, you see him: your roommate Leon whose face is in his hands, ears red, and what seems to be muffled crying– no, sobbing as he walks around in circles.
Concerned for your friend and roommate, you get up from your place and walk up to him. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You place a hand on his broad back, patting and gently stroking it back and forth. Leon finally lifts his head up, wiping off his tears with the sleeve of his dark green sweatshirt.
“This author was not playing around, ended up crying.” is all he said which prompted you to try and hold back a giggle. So he’s been reading fics too, you think to yourself.
“Can I read it?” you ask, to which he nods and fishes his phone out from the pocket of his plaid pajama pants.
“Lemme find it real quick,” he responds. He’s still sniffling, the waterline of his eyes occasionally brimming with a new batch of salty tears before he blinks them away. He finally finds the fic he’s been reading, handing you his phone while he walks over to the kitchen to grab himself a glass of water to stop hiccuping.
“You sure you’re fine?” you call out before you read.
“Yeah! Fic was just really… it was just something!”
You start reading the fic, your eyes trailing on the words on the screen. The words seemed familiar so you guessed that Leon had stumbled on a fic you’ve read before. Wrong! It was your fic, a fic you finished updating around last night. No wonder it was too familiar. You stared at the phone in your hand with wide eyes like a deer in headlights, a child caught with a jar of sweets in her hands when she shouldn’t have been eating sugary things. Your gaze drifted to Leon in the kitchen, who was still somehow trying to control his breathing while chugging down water like his life depended on it. He didn’t seem to notice the sudden drain of color in your face so you continue to scroll down, checking if he left any likes or reblogs or comments on your work. Another bombshell dropped: he’s the top reader of your work and the one that’s been keyboard smashing in the comments, along with the… soulful, emotional reblogs. His account is the one that’s religiously kept up with whatever you post, whether it be new fics or just random vents. BiohazardBard, the sweet account who comments nice stuff like “Don’t worry about us, take some time for yourself! U got this!!” and reblogs with tags like “UEIXGOFQWV CRIED SO HARD U DONT EVEN KNOW IEWBRXXR”on angst fanfiction is your roommate and also your crush.
You stand there in silence, mouth ajar as you continue to stare blankly into his phone, unable to process the fact that he’s aware of your online persona but he doesn’t know that it’s you. You exit the app and turn his phone off, walking over to him in the kitchen and give him pats to his shoulder to really make sure that he’s okay. If he’s calmed down then you’re not– internally, that is.
“That fic uh… it truly was something,” you sympathetically say. “Guessed that the part where uh- she leaves him was the one that got the water works going.”
“Oh um nope, it’s the part where things were slowly spiraling down. Got anxious for them then just full-on bawled when shit hit the fan,” he explains with a sheepish smile. “This fic is just bars, I love it so much actually– Might print a copy of this to take to work when I can’t be on my phone.”
To have your fics reblogged and your account be compared to the unburned version of the Library of Alexandria is one thing but to hear your number one dedicated reader say that to your face? After a breakdown? Nothing will ever top that and he doesn’t even know he just ugly-cried in front of the author he keeps up with.
“Imagine someone coming up to the front desk to be like: “hi someone stole my bike” or something and they call you over and their resident cop is just red as hell and all slobbery,” you joke.
“Shut up! I’ll try not to cry, I’m going to build immunity,” he half-jokes before taking another gulp of water.
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You lay awake at night, staring into the dark nothingness of your room. Your feelings are all convoluted– joy, fear, embarrassment, amusement, excitement– and it’s hard to pinpoint what is ruling over you. Finding out that the man whom you’ve been hinting your feelings for is obsessed with your writing? In complete adoration with the products of your mind and skill? Hopefully he doesn’t suss out on your more romantic and sappy fics, inspired by real-life events you experienced with him (with more romantic and glittery bits). It doesn’t take even a minute to decide that you’ll be keeping this secret from him in order to not make anything weird between you two. Leon already seemed embarrassed after having been caught sobbing like that by a mere set of pixels on screen so you decided that this would be best for both of you. Unable to sleep due to the combined combination of boba tea and adrenaline, you sit up and reach for your phone because reading a fic or two before bed doesn’t hurt, right?
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It’s been a few days after the little “incident” and Leon’s been more open with showing you some fics he enjoys, occasionally giving his own reviews and recommendations for you. He’s still the same guy that keyboards smashes on your comments and on his reblogs, which makes you giggle since you know who’s been sending you that. He finally came home from a long day of work only to do some more work outside of office hours, catching up on reports that some absent cops left behind and was handed over to him. Making himself a cup of coffee, he stretches his arms and hands before typing away on his dingy laptop for the next 3 hours. A few hours later, you hear some giggling coming from him so you bring your head up and spot his head once again buried in his hand, ears red but from giggling this time. He swings his legs, accidentally nudging the leg of a chair so he yelps a bit, which tugs a little chuckle from you. His ears pick up on the jolly noise coming from you, his face glowing when he sees you smile (or are you just seeing things?). He asks for you to come over to him and points at something on the screen of his laptop.
“Thought you wanted uninterrupted time for work,” you ask.
“I’m on a break, I think I deserve it,” he confidently says. “Anyways, take a look at this. Starting from here until here.”
You expected that you’d see another fic of yours but it was from another account’s instead, which disappointed you a slight bit but not that you minded too much. You finished reading the lines, the corners of your lips tugged skyward with a subtle splash of baby pink tinting your cheeks.
“Damn, that’s sweet,” you comment. “Gosh, I want what they have.”
“Me too. Like, hey God I’m still here ya know! I’ve seen what you’ve done for others!” Leon adds on.
Um, hey Leon! I’m literally right here! Do you need glasses? I’m right beside you!
Since you two were having a nice moment sharing fics and fic lines, you decided to show Leon some lines from fics you love.
“Take a look at this one,” you say as you hand him your iPad. “His description of her had me clawing at walls and biting my fist.”
Leon takes the gadget from your hands with care and places them beside his laptop, reading the lines. He reads in silence and it appears that he’s going over the line again and again.
“Who wrote this?” he asks.
“Uh, scottfree.”
“I don’t think I’m getting out of this scot-free,” Leon jokes. “Pun intended.”
“And why is that…?”
“Because I wrote that.”
You look at him in confusion, two neurons in your brain making a very, very, very slow connection in this moment.
“You’re scottfree?! And also BiohazardBard?!,” you exclaim. So he’s also scottfree, the writer whose lines you’ve screenshotted takes up about a third of all images on your phone. Amazing.
“How do you know I’m BiohazardBard?!?!,” he exclaims even louder as he gets up from his seat.
“Because um– the fic you cried over some days ago is mine! And I saw your account name and profile and I found out that you’re one of my loyal readers!”
He looks like he’s ready to wither away into nothing, become dust and probably get sucked in a vacuum cleaner.
“God that’s embarrassing,” he quietly mumbles. “Tell me: is that fic the first fic you’ve read from me? My other account, I mean– the one where I post fics.”
“Scottfree? Um, no… I’ve read like– quite a lot, actually.”
He stares blankly at you, unsure on how to absorb the information dumped on him. He’s only got a half-asleep half of a brain cell now since the rest of them were allocated on getting those papers done with the other half of the remaining brain cell, which he thinks is now gone.
“While we’re at this, um. You must know that the descriptions I write for the love interests are usually what I wished I could say to you or how I’d describe you. When he’s telling her how magical it is to be around her presence? I’ve daydreamed one too many times about really saying that you,” he quietly confides in you. “If I want to write another story, I hope I could write it alongside you.”
They really weren’t playing with slow-burn romance where both of them are too shy to confess their feelings. It’s happening to me right now! I’m in the confession part of the story!
“I guess it’s a writer thing for writers to include parts of someone they like in their works because I did the same thing for my works, actually. If I wanna come up with a real sweet line, I just think about you and I wish that I’d say these to you. Maybe I’ll wish that whatever I write the love interest to say, I’ll hear you say them to me too and uh… manifesting is real I guess, I dunno,” you awkwardly laugh. “Guess the feeling’s mutual, huh.”
“Yeah. Wow, this is… this is amazing. Real amazing,” Leon softly says.
“Mhm.”
“So…”
“So… what now…?”
“I guess this makes as mutuals in terms of accounts and feelings," the blond grins.
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NOTE - Once again, thank you to the lovely 310 people who decided to follow me and keep up with whatever I post :)) I first came up with this while I was washing my cats' bowls and I intended for it to be a drabble but I just decided to make it a fic in the end. Still working on other reqs rn so expect some more posts in the coming days <33 If your usernames are somehow the same as the usernames that I made up for this fic then I didn't mean that and it's just a coincidence 😭🙏 Also y'all gotta hear me out on Francis Mosses from That's Not My Neighbor, he's cute :3 Judging from my mlist, I'm not sure if I love RE2R Leon hmm I'm not too sure 🤔 Anyways, that's all and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!! I <33333 UUUUUU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The dividers are made by @benkeibear , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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esnotxkios · 5 hours
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- ; CHRIS STURNIOLO ; -
' experimenting ' - requested.
✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪✪
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- ; warnings - use of toys, plot(?), smut, established relationships , mutual masturbation,
- ; 11:13 am
you and chris left the house early this morning before matt and nick had even opened their eyes.
usually, you and chris would sleep later than them considering the nights you had together.
but no, last night you two went to sleep extremely early as your morning plans would require you to.
because in the afternoon while you were at work you received a text from your boyfriend.
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and this lead to where you are now.
in a sex shop.
in downtown LA.
at 11:30 in the morning.
- ; 11:28 am
"chris if you get a boner from those sex dolls we are leaving."
"too late."
although he was joking, you still shot him a look.
but he didnt look back.
instead, he was looking at the large array of vibrators infront of you two.
"what are you thinking?" he asked, looking at you attentively.
"of you fucking me with one of these." you turned your head and looked up at him innocently.
"i meant what kind of vibrator are you thinking of getting dumb a-"
"is there anything in specific you two are looking for?" a voice chimed in before chris could finish his retort.
it was a store employee with purple hair and a face adorned with peircings whose name tag read "sapphire"
"im just looking for something to make my girl feel good." chris answered way too casually.
you again, shot him a look, but his eyes were locked onto 'sapphire'
"well, we have a lot of that here!" she laughed awkwardly.
you cracked a smile back.
chris stayed expressionless before saying, "well do you recommend anything for first timers?"
how the fuck is he so casual about this? you thought.
"i think i have just the thing! its on the pricier side.. so let me know if you want something cheaper!"
sapphire then walked to the back of the store where you heard the rustling of boxes.
"damn that bitch talks a lot." you whispered
chris giggled at your remark before the purple haired girl came back with a fairly large box labled: inspiring vibrating wand: powerful vibrations
the box was about a foot tall with a long black well, wand, on the front. it had a bright orange label that had '149.99' on it.
intimated by the large thing, you looked at chris, who was smirking and shaking his head in delight.
"we'll take it." he said like he had done this a million times before.
"alright, perfect! meet me over at the register." sapphire walked over to the counter.
"chris!" you whispered sharply. "thats too expensive!"
you tugged on his hoodie to prevent him from waking over to the counter.
he stopped walking and turned around"hey, anything to make my girl feel good, alright?"
you couldn't help it but get red in the face at this.
you obliged and followed him to the register, thinking about what was to come.
- ; 11:44 am
the ride home was excruciating.
you pressed your thighs together as you thought of how your new item would be used.
"you alright, baby?" chris put his hand on your thigh, not taking his eyes off of the road.
you squirmed impatiently under his touch
"i might have to you the wand on you right when you get home, huh?"
-; 12:00 pm
you entered chris's room and sat on his bed.
chris walked in a few moments later, the box in hand.
he immediately sat down next to you and started opening it up.
he pulled out an instruction manual first, "damn they have a whole instruction manual for this bitch? maybe we shouldve gotten something different.."
you laughed. "it's probably just how to clean it or some shit."
"oh, then we will definitely need that." he looked up at you and smiled, gaining an ego boost after saying that.
you smacked his hand playfully.
then he took out the wand and clicked the button to the highest setting.
the head of it wirred loudly, which startled the both of you.
chris quickly turned it off and laughed, he tried to pretend he wasn't thinking about overstimulating your dripping cunt with it.
but, his manhood gave him away.
"we might just have to use this now." chris said playfully as he discarded the box onto the floor, leaving 6 inches between you and chris.
"but chris" you were cut off by a sloppy kiss on the lips from chris.
he pushed you down on the bed hovering over you, kissing you.
when you finally caught your breath you spoke, "what if matt and nick hear?"
"pfft. they wont be up for at least another 2 hours."
you giggled and resumed sloppily kissing.
lips still interlocked, chris moved to the side so you could take your sweatpants off, and you did the same for him.
the kiss lasted a few more minutes before chris could bear it anymore, and he took his boxers off.
you broke the kiss so you could look at his soaking member.
he stroked it a few times before picking up the wand.
you swallowed, it burned.
he turned it on the second lowest setting and pressed it against your cunt.
"mmh.." you let out a small moan in response.
chris moved the vibrator up and down your clothed pussy.
his cock twitched as he could visibly see how turned on you were by this.
and although you were extremely stimulated by the wand, his aching cock didnt go unnoticed by you.
you grabbed the wand from chris's hand, signaling for him to take off your panties.
he happily obliged to this, taking them off with his teeth, which grazed you as he did so.
he lowered his tounge down onto your pussy, licking it.
you shuddered.
he licked your pussy again, this time with more strength.
he licked again and again and again until he couldnt help himself from sucking.
you moaned loudly.
your hand was getting sore from holding the vibrator, so you brought it down and rested it against chris's leaking tip.
"fuck." he moaned into your pussy, sending vibrations up your core.
this went on for a few more moments until chris's hips started to shudder, and your breathing became more rapid.
chris sat up, taking the vibrator off of its resting place on his dick, and bringing it up to your pussy.
he stroked his cock at the sight of your cunt, and you convulsing.
as much as you were enjoying this, you still wanted to help chris, so you grabbed the base of his cock and moved his own hand off of it, jerking him off.
"oh yeah baby- fuck- just like that" he moaned out as the pace of your strokes increased, focusing on his tip.
you could tell he was getting close.
with he free hand he stuck two fingers into your pussy. curling them perfectly and they explored you.
but with the sight of your boyfriend jerking into your hand, vibrator which was now at the highest setting assaulting your cunt, the feeling you knew all too well crept up on you sooner than expected.
"fuck- chris im cumming!" you screamed, the pleasure washed over your whole body in waves.
you came all over his fingers, the movement of your hand on his cock become sloppy.
this was enough for chris to let out a long moan "shit- me too-"
he came all over your cunt, and the vibrator.
your breathing, although heavy, became synchronized with his.
"i guess we are gonna need that cleaning manual huh?"
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i have no fucken clue where i got this motivation to write so.. this took me like an hour tff😱
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larluce · 2 days
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Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU
Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @star-rie , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 The tag list is increasing! I'm crying 🤧. Again thank you so much for all the love. I've been sick in bed, all depressed cause I couldn't speak or sing (I'm a musical theater student) and reading your comments cheer me up ^^.
LINKS TO THE OTHER PARTS OF THIS AU HERE: PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13
In "Remedy to Cure All Ills"
Arthur pacing around in his chambers after Morgana fell sick and he encountered Edwin.
Arthur: (thinking, trying to convince himself) She's evil, she's going to become evil, it's okay if she dies. She's evil, she's going to become evil, she must die. She's evil, she's going to- (Shouts and throws a lamp againts a wall, furious with himself)¡AAARRGH!(sinks in a couch an covers his face, thinking miserably) Why can't I let her die? I watched her take her last breath before my eyes before, damn it! This shouldn't hurt this much.
Merlin: (enters) Arthur?
Arthur: (sighs and takes his hands out of his face, exhausted) Don't you know how to knock?
Merlin: (with a comforting smile) You know I never do that. (gets close and puts himself infront of Arthur, bending down to be at his height) She's going to be alright, Arthur. She's strong. You'll see.
Arthur: (smiles back, but it doesn't reach his eyes) A man came to the castle this morning. He claims he can cure her. (thinking) Of course he can, he was the one who did this to her.
Merlin: (thinking, wary) Edwin... (says) How could he? Not even Gaius knows what's wrong with her.
Arthur: He says he has a remedy to cure all ills.
Merlin: That doesn't exist. It's impossible.
Arthur: I know that! But what other option do we have? Morgana is dying and we are farther from close to find a cure! We don't lose anything by trying (thinking) And we gain everything by doing it. Once he cures her I can kill him.
Merlin: (puts a comforting hand on his shoulder, hesitantly, but relaxes when Arthur doesn't reject the touch) You really love her a lot, don't you?
Arthur: (with unshed tears) We grow up together. She's like a sister to me. I can't let her die. (Thinking) Even when she doesn't share the same sentiment. I just can't.
Merlin: Wait till tomorrow. If she doesn't get better, you can fetch the man.
Arthur: I'm the prince, Merlin. You can't tell me what to do.
Merlin: But?
Arthur: It's too late the fetch the man now. I'll wait till tomorrow.
Merlin: (smiles) Wise as always, my lord.
Arthur: (caresses the hand on his shoulder, lovinly) Thank you, Merlin.
Merlin: (blushes, nervous) 😳 I... I didn't do anything.
Arthur: You did. (Looks at Merlin's eyes intendly) Thank you. (They stare a each other, faces inches from the other).
Merlin: (snaps out of it and moves away) I-I need to go 😅 (smiles nervously and walks backwards) Eh... Physician apprentice things to do- (collides whit the table and some things fall and he picks them up quickly) Sorry!
Arthur: (laughs softly) Don't stay awake late. Rest.
Merlin: Right... you too. I'll be back to dress you in a minute, so don't sleep until I get back! 😅 (Leaves, thinking) 'Don't sleep until I get back'? Really? 😳😖🤦‍♂️
Arthur: (Sighs, thinking) Sleep. If only I could.
It's rare the times Arthur has a good night of sleep. Nightmares or rather memories of the time Merlin was a tree always assault his mind. Specially the time Merlin was turned before his eyes and he couldn't do anything about it, too weak from his wound, too useless. It's better now that Merlin sleeps in the antechambers. He just has to open the door and watch him sleep there peacefully, human and alive, and his heart is at easy again. Now with Morgana at death's door there's no way he's going to catch any sleep at all.
Arthur: (whispers to himself) I still have time. Tomorrow. Just wait until tomorrow.
Time skip. For everyone's surprise, Morgana wakes in the morning all cured, like she has never been ill in the first place.
Uther: (happy and relieved) Morgana! (Goes to her) This is truly a miracle. I thought... I really thought...
Morgana: (smiles) Oh, you won't get rid of me that easily.
Arthur: We certainly won't. (Just as realived and happy, puts hand on her shoulder, unconsciously) I'm glad you're alright, Gana.
Morgana: (surprised he's showing affection to her again, but touched) Gana... You haven't called me like that since we were kids.
Arthur: (realising he put a hand on her shoulder and puts it away) Right. Sorry, I know you don't like it.
Morgana: (messing with him) Oh, you can call me like that if you want. If you let me call you... Art? Arthie?
Arthur: Don't you dare! (He threatens but then they both laugh and look at each other fondly)
Gaius: I still need to make a few tests to see if she is really out of danger, but for what I can see, she'll be fully recovered in no time, sire.
Uther: Of course. Thank you, Gaius.
Gaius: I don't consider this was exactly my doing (looks at Merlin significantly and Merlin makes himself small in his place). But I'm glad to be of service as always, your majesty. I'll prepare some concoctions to prevent any outbrake just in case. (Makes a bow and it's about to leave, but then turns to Merlin sternly) Merlin?
Merlin: (sighs) Coming (bows quickly and leaves with him)
Uther: (frowns, thinking) Is it my idea or did he vow in the direction of Arthur alone?
Arthur: (who saw all the exchange between mentor and ward) I'll go to inform everyone the good news. Morgana, father (smiles politely makes a bow to both of them and leaves too)
Morgana: (sighs, a little sad, thinking) And cold Arthur is back.
Time skip. In Gaius Tower. Gaius scolding Merlin.
Gaius: You used magic on the king's ward?! What were you thinking?!
Merlin: I was thinking that I didn't want her to die! She's my friend and she's very dear to Arthur-
Gaius: Arthur, Arthur. Is what all this is about isn't it? I know he's the prince and you care for him. But let me remind you, he's still the prince of a kingdom that bans magic. Do you have any idea of what would have happened to you if someone discovered you? if someone have seen you?
Merlin: (explodes) Yes I know! Of course I know! Every time a wake up, every time I breathe, I know I could be killed at any moment. I watch every pyre that is made fearing maybe I could be next. I watch every friendly face, knowing that if they knew, if they only knew, they'll see me like a monster. I have to look at Uther, the man that would have me executed, the murderer of all my kind, and I have to serve him and smile at him trying to no throw up every day. So yes I perfectly fucking know, Gaius!
Gaius: ...
Merlin: (with teary eyes and his voice breaks) But I can't stop doing it, I can't separate myself from it. And I tried, believe me I tried, but I can't. Magic is part of me, is who I am. So I'll use it however I see fit, whenever I can, because no one knows the risks of using magic in a kingdom that forbids my very existence better than I do!
Silence...
Gaius: You're right. I don't understand it. I will never understand it. Magic was never to me what it is to you. I'm sorry I didn't see it before.
Merlin: It's alright. I know you only worry about me.
Gaius: It's more than that. (puts both of his hands on Merlin's shoulders) Merlin, in this short time I've known you, you've become like a son to me. I can't bare to lose you.
Merlin: (smiles) You won't lose me. I'm sorry, I didn't want to upset you.
Gaius: Then for the sake of this old man, stop doing these things behind my back.
Merlin: Only of you promise to help me rather than forbid me of doing things. I still need guidance, I still need you.
Gaius: Alright (he hugs him close and then pulls away). Lets start with how you cured Lady Morgana. I don't recall giving you any healing magic classes.
Merlin: I didn't have to, I just had to call this little one out of her ear. (pulls out a beetle from his pocket) I think it was what was making her sick. Do you know what it is?
Gaius: (alarmed) Don't touch it! (picks a jar and opens it) Put it here. Now! (Merlin does it and Gaius closes the jar) It's an Elanthia Beetle. They can be enchanted to enter the brain, feed on it until they devour the person's very soul. Thank the gods you managed to pull it out.
Merlin: (who already knew all this, but still has to play ignorant) So Morgana was echanted? By who?
Gaius: There are many sorcerers who wish to cause harm to the crown, my boy. But, whoever it is, once they find out their plan failed, they are going to try again.
Time skip. Merlin leaves Gaius tower with Morgana's concoctions and almost jumps out of his skin, when he sees Arthur is there at the door.
Merlin: (scared, but trying to disimulate, closing the door behind him) Arthur! How long have you been there?
Arthur: (who heard the whole conversation, very affected) I... I just arrived.
Merlin: (relieved, but concerned for Arthur's state) Arthur, are you alright? What is it? (with growing panic) Are you ill? Did something happen to Lady Morgana? Arthur, answer me!
Arthur: (hugs Merlin suddenly)
Merlin: (too stuned to say anything) ...
Arthur: (Pulls Merlin closer to him, thinking) 10 years. You suffered my father's reign and then I made you still live in fear for 10 years.
Merlin: (red and still very concerned) Not that I'm not enjoying this gesture, sire. But, please, say something. I'm going to freak out.
Arthur: (pulls away gently) Nothing's wrong, Merlin. It just... seemed like you needed it.
Merlin: (confused) ... right. (Thinking) He must still be sensitive about Morgana. (coughs, trying to hide his red face) I have to... ehm... give Morgana her concoctions so...
Arthur: (playfully) Are you blushing?
Merlin: No.
Arthur: Your ears are red.
Merlin: They are not!😡
Arthur: Yes, they are. It's hard not to notice. They're as big as your face.
Merlin: Not as big as your fat ass!
Arthur: Have you been staring? 😏
Merlin: (even more red) I...😳 stop wasting my time, get out of my way!😡
Arthur: That's no way to talk to your prince, Merlin.
Merlin: Fine (with exaggerated courtesy). Your highness, my lord, sire, would you make me the enormous honor to remove your royal, pompous, supercilious presence out of my way?
Arthur: (laughs, but steps aside)
Merlin: Thank you, my lord. I'll be forever in debt with you. (Bows in mockery and leaves)
Arthur: (thinking, as he watches him leave) You chose to save Morgana with your magic this time. You shouldn't have risk it. But thank you. You won't have to suffer for so long this time. I'll create I world where you feel safe, you won't have to hide and be scared anymore. I promise.
101 notes · View notes
toji-girl · 3 days
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two for one | r. haitani x r. haitani
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synopsis: Rindo needed a place to crash for one night, but it ended up being a lot longer than that where he has to listen to you get fucked by his brother when it should be him, but maybe Ran won’t mind sharing.
wc: 3.2k
tags: 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + fem reader + not beta read + repost from my old blog + dubcon (sex while high) + mfm threesome + bondage + sensation play + unprotected sex + creampie + overstimulation + sex toys (vibrator) fellatio + spitting + girlfriend sharing + one instance of ass slapping + cum eating + pet names + cunnilingus + fingering + light praising + light dirty talking + flirting + teasing + male masturbation + shot gunning + dry humping + nipple play + any missing tag lmk!
an: this is my first time having something so long for the Haitani's so please forgive me if they are a bit occ! but I am such a sucker for brothers like this and older brothers who know what you need *insert dreamy sigh*
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“Thanks for inviting me over and letting me stay the night,” Rindo told you and Ran, but mostly you, as he settled on the other couch watching his older brother sling his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer.
Envy settled deep in the pit of Rin’s stomach, as he wondered how his brother got someone so sweet, beautiful, funny, smart, and amazing, while he was stuck with women who only wanted what was between his legs and the money in his pockets which he didn’t mind much but there was something about his brother having you that didn’t sit right with him. 
You smiled and turned the tv down. “You don’t have to thank us. Your heater went out and it’s cold outside. Plus, what kind of soon-to-be sister-in-law would I be, and what kind of brother would Ran be, if we didn’t let you stay?” You asked, looking at him with sympathy. 
Rindo choked on his beer as he sat up bouncing his gaze between you and Ran who smiled kissing your cheek. He knew the feelings his sibling had for you, the lingering stares, or the subtle touches on your waist to get by you, knowing he didn’t have to touch you, cause he swore he could feel the electricity tingle through him.
“Sister-in-law? Where’s the ring?” Rindo asked, feeling the jealousy eat away at him and the fact that his brother looked so fucking smug knowing exactly what was eating at him. 
“It’s getting resized right now, but I proposed last weekend.” Ran replied, holding and kissing the back of your hand with a smile as he stared at Rindo with cool violet eyes, sensing his little brother's feeling, the rage that unfurled in his chest and radiated through him.
Rindo nodded and plastered a fake smile on his face as he stood up and cleared his throat. “If you’ll excuse me I think I’m going to head to bed. Goodnight and congratulations.” He said, then headed to the small guest room shutting the door and trying to ignore the sounds of your giggling carrying through the apartment.
He hated that he was so stuck on you but you’ve been around ever since he could remember stuck to his older brother while treating him like he was the third wheel and he was in a way but he wanted to be with you in the way his brother was, man always wants what he can’t have. 
Ran kissed your neck and pulled you onto his lap, wrapping his arms around your waist as you two sat on the couch still. “I think Rindo is a little jealous.” He murmured, grazing his chin over your shoulder.
“Why do you say that? He’s good-looking enough. He could probably get anyone he wants.”
He raised an eyebrow leaning back as he trailed his hand up your back. “You think he’s attractive? It’s the Haitani genes.” He teased. 
“No. I don’t want your brother.” You replied giggling.
“I was just stating the obvious is all.” You continued teasingly, kissing his cheek before getting off his lap to clean up the coffee table.
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One night turned into a whole week of Rindo staying with you and Ran.
The second night was another night of hanging out, drinking, and talking until bedtime.
The third night Rindo laid in bed with the pillow covering his ears, trying to drown out the moans from your and Ran’s room. He could hear you whimpering and begging for more, to let you cum, but all he did was deny you, talking you through the tears as you wiped them away, clenching your thighs around Ran’s head.
All Rindo could do was shut his eyes and envision him between your legs, his tongue lapping at you lazily to savor your taste. He would take his time, slowly sliding two fingers in and out of your wet cunt until you were begging him to cum inside you, your lips would pout when he would continue to bring orgasm after orgasm until your legs were shaking.
Only then would he thrust into you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head at how wet you were.
Groaning, he fought the urge to pull his boxers down and relieve his aching cock. The walls were so thin, he could hear the wet sucking sound as Ran fucked you from behind while playing with your clit, your moans were now muffled by the pillow you shoved your face into, knowing Rindo could hear you.
The depraved part of you actually wanted him to hear it all. You knew the next morning it was going to be awkward but for now, you didn’t care, it felt way too good.
When the sun rose the next day, Ran was already at work, leaving you and Rindo home alone to clean up the place. “So, did you two have fun last night?” He asked when you walked into the kitchen, as he stood at the oven making lunch, eyeing you with such intensity it felt like he was staring at your soul.
“Yeah, sorry about the noise. The walls are thin, you know? Besides that, how do you like staying here?”
He chuckled, “Oh, trust me I know. I didn’t think I would spend my week listening to my brother fuck his girlfriend.”
You held your hand up showing off the ring that was sent back, “Fiancée,” You said, correcting him as you placed the mail on the counter, sorting through them after sitting on the barstool. 
Rindo grunted and rolled his eyes, flipping his sandwich. “If you want to, you can stay on the couch, so it’s not as loud.”
“Better yet,” Rindo began leaning over with long arms to pluck the piece of mail from your hand, watching you open your mouth, he cupped your cheek tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, “you could place a ball gag between those pretty lips of yours.”
It was wrong the way you clenched around nothing and crossed your legs looking away, unsure what to say. He leaned in closer until his lips were close to your ear, fanning his warm breath over you and down your neck. 
“What? Cat got your tongue?” He asked before pulling away with a knowing smirk. 
You cleared your throat and snatched the letter from his hand, getting off the barstool with blood pooling in your cheeks and heat in your cunt, as you walked out of the kitchen into the living room, to see Ran walk through the front door with a grin, as he kicked his shoes off seeing you.
“Hi. How was your day?” He asked, walking further in to wrap you in a hug while kissing you.
“It was good, quiet. I’m glad you’re home. How about yours?” You told him, returning the kiss before he sat down pulling you on his lap, snuggling his head in your neck.
“It’s better now that I’m home. Is Rindo still here?” He asked, kissing your shoulder.
“I am yeah. Do you want me to leave so you two can have alone time?” Rindo asked, walking into the living room with a tray as he took his usual spot on the other couch, placing it on the table. You leaned over looking at what he had and raised an eyebrow.
“You’re going to smoke pot right now? What if our neighbors smell it?” You asked as he packed a bowl and grabbed the lighter.
“They won’t. And it seems like you could use a hit to loosen up.” Rindo teased before taking a hit, as you rolled your eyes at his words. He leaned his head back against the couch, the way he looked with his hair falling and framing his face, a white puff leaving his lips, had the small fantasy of him and Ran fucking you coming back, as he handed the pipe to Ran.
“Let’s shotgun.” You whispered in Ran’s ear scooting closer to him. He smiled and took another hit, grabbing the back of your neck softly slotting his lips against yours blowing the smoke in your mouth before pulling back to look at you with a grin. His hand slid to your jaw as he turned his head to face Rindo who was watching you both with heavy lids.
“Do you want to fuck her?” Ran asked in between kissing your neck.
Rindo nodded his head and sat up holding his hand out for you. The unspoken agreement set in stone as Ran helped you up, and leaned back as you stood up and walked over to Rindo, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck. 
Leaning in, you kissed him, tasting the heavy smoke as he tangled his tongue with yours, using his hands to greedily roam over your back, trailing down to your ass, squeezing the flesh.
He wasted no time claiming your mouth, until Ran cleared his throat, grabbing the bowl and handing it to you. His eyes trained on the way you took a hit, this time blowing the smoke in Rindo’s mouth while he bucked his hips, rubbing his clothed dick against you. 
His hands were a bit rougher than Ran’s as he slid them under the front of your shirt to cup your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your nipples, smirking as he felt them pebble under his touch.
There was no way you could deny the way you felt towards Rindo now the way you ground against him, wanting to remove the clothes that hindered more of his touch. You pulled away with hazy eyes to see saliva being strung from your and his lips.
He stared at you speechless and breathless. “What? Cat got your tongue?” You teased using his own words against him while getting off his lap, leaving him to watch you grab Ran’s hand and walk to your shared bedroom shutting the door.
“And you’re sure you don’t find my brother attractive?” Ran asked teasingly, shedding his shirt before sitting on the edge of the bed.
You did the same and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck, and peppering his face with kisses while playing with his hair. “Maybe I can admit it now. I guess I do have a thing for the Haitanis. You mused, playfully batting your eyelashes.
Ran leaned back wrapping both arms around your waist, easily maneuvering you on your back and under him. “Oh, you’re dirty aren’t you?” He asked kissing you, trailing his lips down your neck and chest, stopping at your breasts, gently squeezing the flesh as he kissed each nipple before drawing one in his mouth, slotting himself between your legs that wrapped around his waist, your fingers now buried in his hair.
“And such a tease for leaving poor Rindo out there to jerk off I’m sure. How about we play a little game?” He asked, letting go with a wet pop as he looked at you.
“What kind of game?” You asked growing curious, feeling your slick drip from your cunt that you rutted against Ran.
He sat up and flickered his gaze to the top drawer in the dresser that was filled with various amounts of sex toys. “I’ll give in to your little fantasy but the thing is I’m going to use that bondage kit you got, you’ll be blindfolded and will have to guess who’s touching you.”
The image that he wove with his words had you grunting softly with need, he was going to make your dreams come true and who would you be to deny such a thing? 
“I can agree with your game.” You replied with an airy giggle. 
“You know the safeword in case you need to use it and I’m sure Rindo wouldn’t mind,” Ran smirked.
That’s how you found yourself on your knees with cuffs on your ankles, that were clipped to the cuffs on your wrists that were behind your back, putting you into a hogtie position. A blindfold cut off your vision, heightening your other senses while Ran and Rindo talked in the living room, going over what you two spoke about in private as he connected the cuffs and brought out all the toys laying them on top of the dresser. Your heart was racing when the door clicked open and you heard the footsteps coupled with their breathing.
Silence hung heavy as the bed dipped with someone’s weight. Your mind was muddled with so many thoughts that you couldn’t tell who was kneeling behind you, trailing his fingertips up and down your sides slowly before drawing lazy circles around your nipples, his cock flexing against your bare ass. “Guess who?” He whispered in your ear low enough your brain barely registered the words.
Fingers pinched and pulled your nipples softly. Then just as soon as they were there they were gone. You heard someone snap and a chuckle that sounded like Ran’s, but you weren’t sure. A low humming sound made you jump. A soothing hand stroked your back, coupled with a kiss on the shoulder made you relax, whilst feeling the cool tip of the vibrator against your clit, sending low vibrations through you.
“Oh!” You gasped, bucking your hips. He applied more pressure as the other party kneeled in front of you, kissing your chest. Reaching your nipples once more, he swirled his tongue over the bud teasing you. You could tell it was Rindo because it didn’t feel familiar. 
Between the toy and Rindo’s mouth, you were rapidly growing closer to your orgasm, when two fingers toyed with your slick entrance, tracing it before slowly thrusting inside you, carefully making sure to keep the toy in place.
They both pulled away to get into position. One of them sat in front of you, making quick work of pulling his pants down. Freeing his cock, he slowly helped you lower your head, tapping your lips with the swollen tip.
Parting your lips, you sucked it in before taking more into your mouth. His hand rested on the back of your head, watching you bob up and down his cock, spit pooling around the base, while the other kept his fingers pumping in and out of you.
You still weren’t sure who was who with the sensations running through your body, the person behind you reached down and unhooked your wrists from the connecter for your ankles to spread your legs wider, and giving you the opportunity to rest your hands on the bed, after putting the vibrator down and setting it to the side.
The game that you and Ran had set was slowly falling apart because he couldn’t help the grunts from his mouth as you deepthroated him. “She really does have a pretty pussy, shame you get this all to yourself.” Rindo groaned, letting a glob of spit drip from his lips and onto your cunt, adding to the lewd squelching from him fingering you as his thumb rubbed your clit, mesmerized by the sight of his slick fingers each time he pulled them out.
Ran rolled his eyes as you went faster knowing who it was. They still kept the blindfold on even though you knew who was who. Rindo continued feeling you flutter around him as he grazed your g-spot. You moaned around Ran, feeling your climax burst like fireworks. 
“We’ve got a creamer, huh?” Rindo teased pulling his fingers out as he positioned you higher on your knees, putting your ass higher in the air and making it easier for him to grab your ass, burying his tongue between your folds.
His tongue lapped away your cum, then massaged your clit while keeping you spread open for him. He was relentless in the way he ate you. Rindo wasn’t shameless in the way he grunted and groaned. “You taste even better than what I thought. So sweet. I could eat you up for hours. Would you like that?” He asked in a teasing manner, slurping you loudly.
It was hard to answer with Ran’s cock in your throat, so you pressed back harder against Rindo’s mouth, gripping the bed sheets until you pulled away from Ran panting. “Fuck-please!” You slurred, still high from your first orgasm, and the weed that left your body feeling like you were floating, weightless, and in pure bliss.
“Please what? I don’t think we heard you.” Ran groaned looking at the smeared drool on your mouth and chin that strung to the mushroomed head. You pouted and went back down with vigor, hollowing your cheeks, intent on making him cum, while Rindo pulled away to grab the vibrator again, placing it against your clit.
Arching your back, you gave him the perfect view of your pussy that contracted tightly. He could visibly see your hole flutter around nothing, the vibrations sending you into another climax.
“When I look at your cunt next it’s going to be dripping with my cum.” Rindo told you as he sat up, trailing kisses up your back, slowly sneaking his hands up to squeeze your breasts once more before kneeling behind you, freeing his dick that he took in his hand, rubbing the tip up and down collecting your cum and his spit before pushing the head in, leaving it there as he felt you clench.
Ran leaned his head back, letting you hold his hands and take control of the pace and depth. Looking back down, his eyes fixed your mouth. Part of him wanted to remove the blindfold, but he resisted the urge to, while Rindo thrust in more inch by inch until he was bottomed out. You heard him gasp as he gripped your hips tightly.
“Damn. You’re so wet and so fucking warm.” He grunted, pulling out to slam back, finding a rough and fast pace. You could feel his balls slap against your clit with each thrust.
The bedroom smelt like sex mixed in with a tinge of sweat. The sounds of unashamed moans and the bed creaking roared in your ears while the Haitani brothers fucked you. Rindo watched the flesh of your ass ripple from each rut of his hips as he bent over you, grabbing the toy, placing it against your sensitive clit again.
“I love it when you clench around me like that sweet girl.” He praised massaging the small of your back, slowing the pace, making sure you felt him throb inside you. He wanted you to remember this as much as he will.
Ran was first to reach his climax cumming down your throat. You greedily swallowed it all then sat up. Ran took the blindfold off as you took in ragged breaths. 
You stared at him while he cupped your cheek, holding your stare as his brother neared his orgasm, but he wanted to delay it, slowing the pace even more before going fast with deep strokes that left your toes curling. “Gonna cum.” Rindo grunted, throwing his head back then shooting thick ropes of cum inside you.
Rindo slowly pulled out, thumbing you apart to watch you push out his load, letting it drip down your thighs and onto the bedsheets that you and his brother slept on. “Holy fuck. Can I stay a little longer?” He asked and teased, earning a glare from Ran who helped you lay down.
Then both of them laid on either side of you, caressing you and making sure you were good enough to get in the shower, where they washed you and helped you out then back into bed under the covers after Ran stripped it and replaced the soiled sheets with new ones.
“Seriously, can I?” Rindo asked with more conviction. 
Ran watched you for several beats before looking at his brother. “This was a one-time thing.” He warned, not knowing that Rindo and you felt differently.
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diazsdimples · 1 day
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WIP Wednesday
Tagged by @theotherbuckley @steadfastsaturnsrings and @puppyboybuckley (who published the final chapter of the Mudslide Fic, PLEASE go read it!)
I wasn’t gonna do this today cause I had the shift from hell and didn’t manage to write anything yesterday between birthday things but I managed to cobble this together after my shift! Frostpunk AU weirdly came back to me so please enjoy this small snippet!
Much to Buck’s relief, both Edmundo and Christopher are still alive when they make it back to the city, in record time as Bobby will have him believe. Rappelling down the cliff with two semi-conscious, reasonably unstable patients is more difficult than they’d initially anticipated, so in a rush of fear as he watches Bobby struggle with Christopher, Buck offers to bring the boy down himself.
Much like they did the day Buck carried Christopher to the cabin, they strap the child to Buck’s chest, using a small harness stored in the med kit on a “just in case” basis. Christophers head clunks repetitively against Buck’s chest as he pushes them off the cliff, slowly letting the rope out with each jump. He wishes that it wasn’t a two-hand job, that he could cradle Christopher’s head with one hand and keep the rope moving with the other.
Above him, Bobby abseils down with Edmundo dangling to the side of him in a basket. They’d done one last temperature check on the two of them before descending into the heavy, cold mist that lay over the city, and Edmundo’s had been the lowest they’d seen it since the rescue. The way Eli’s face had paled and he’d instantly tugged Bobby aside, talking with him in low, hushed tones was enough to tell Buck about the state of his health.
It made a cold, thrill of fear rush down Buck’s spine, settling in the pit of his stomach as a constant reminder of how precarious Edmundo and Christopher’s situation was, as he carried the small boy to safety.
The moment Buck and Christopher touched the ground, they were pounced on by a team of medics, headed by Hen.
“What’s the story, Buck?” Hen asked as she hurried to help peel off Buck’s outer layers and unclip him from the harness.
“Found this guy and his dad half frozen yesterday. He’s probably 7 or 8 years old and got moderate to severe hypothermia. Eli’s been monitoring him and he’s stable but barely conscious. Probably malnourished and seriously dehydrated,” Buck pants as he lowers Christopher onto the stretcher Hen has prepared. The kid’s light brown curls fall over his face, curling against his eyelids and Buck reaches out a tender hand to brush them back before he can stop himself.
If Hen notices, she chooses not to mention the look in his eyes as he does this.
“Alright, we’re going to take him to the med tent now. What about his dad?” Hen asks as two medics swiftly hoist Christopher’s stretcher into the air and run off in the direction of the nearest med tent.
Buck watches, half in a daze as Edmundo is lowered to the ground. His lips are pale and chapped, and his face looks lifeless and devoid of colour as his head lols to the side. A sick feeling creeps through Buck’s body as he thinks of how close they came to not making it back. How close Christopher came to losing his father.
“This is Edmundo Diaz, severe hypothermia, dehydration and malnourishment. He’s had issues with his oxygen and heart rate consistently through the journey home. Hen, he’ll need around the clock care, someone to stay with him, to keep an eye on him,” Buck says, hearing the urgency in his voice as he speaks. He doesn’t know what compels him, other than a sense that Edmundo is the other half of a magnet that’s drawing him ever closer, but Buck continues talking. “You guys can’t spare another medic but I-I don’t mind sitting with him. I’m good at taking his vitals a-and I could keep an eye on the kid.”
Hen eyes him, as if trying to read what his true motivation is. “Go,” she finally says, inclining her head towards the tent. Buck doesn’t need to be told twice.
No pressure tagging @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @evanbegins @smilingbuckley @thekristen999 @elvensorceress @rainbow-nerdss @wikiangela @daffi-990 @watchyourbuck @disasterbuckdiaz @bucksbackwardcap @fortheloveofbuddie @aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @kitteneddiediaz @epicbuddieficrecs @spagheddiediaz @loserdiaz
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glenechoslasher · 1 day
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"Savior" ||
Arthur Morgan x GN!Reader
Rating: None
Length: 2.1k
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Asked by: @photo1030
Ooo! Random thought, maybe can link to my last request. Reader (or character, your choice) gets hurt and Arthur has to take care of them. Maybe shot in the leg and he has to carry them. They get to see a softer side to him, being all caretaker and protective.
Protective Arthur is just... *chef's kiss* I can't explain it but seeing him so good with a gun, being able to down someone within seconds then to turn around and be so gentle with you?? I need it, crave it, even. Thanks for the ask, hon!~
*
It was supposed to be a simple bank coach robbery, just a quick in-and-out sort of situation, and you insisted that you go along to assist Mary-Beth and Sean, but with Arthur being as worried as he always was, he felt it was best to tag along and make sure Sean didn’t pull you into any other mischief. The Irishman, of course, took offense to that, but he didn’t exactly mind that you two wanted to tag along. The more the merrier, even if the cut of the pay was less.
As much as Arthur tried to insist you remain back, you were headstrong and refused to let him tell you what you were capable of. You’d had a successful string of heists you were able to pull off with the other gang members, so why would this one be any different? Without much argument afterward, you rode off on your horse behind Sean and Mary-Beth, and a disgruntled Arthur followed you all from the rear. 
It was difficult to put into words how this made Arthur feel, but he knew that going along to assist would have eased his discomfort, and hearing Sean’s plan to distract the coach was more than entertainment in itself. But with Sean being inept with firearms, Arthur had ridden alongside your horse to listen in on the plan. 
Mary-Beth was more than excited to get out of the camp and put her talent to good use, and even more so when you had offered to tag along if they wouldn’t mind. “Oh, this is excitin’!” She exclaimed with a large smile on her face. “Easy enough to flag ‘em down, I think.”
Sean was proud of his idea and felt that he should have had more credit, but Arthur, being who he was, was unsure and unimpressed with Sean’s usefulness when it came to stressful situations. 
“I’m just keepin’ an eye on you, MacGuire, I know they’re solid,” he stated matter-of-factly as his horse trotted along to the speed of Ennis. 
“Alright, alright, you get knocked out on a mission one time-”
“More than once,” Arthur corrected. 
The Irishman just scoffed and shook his head. “Look, you can write about it in your journals, but let’s get back to my job, the one I brought y’all in on!” He huffed.
You couldn’t help but laugh at how much those two men were always at each other’s throats, no matter what the other was doing. “Let’s focus, gentleman, the lady and I will have this done lickety-split, it’ll be a cakewalk.” You looked over at Arthur with confidence shining in your eyes, and you thought you caught a glimpse of a smile from across his face, but it was gone before you could blink. 
Sean led the way until they came to a crossroads, then he told you all to keep the horses out of sight as he scoped out where they could hide for the time being. “Alright then, here we are, they’ll be comin’ from the North any minute, you both know what you’re doin’, right?”
Arthur just scoffed and shook his head. “Course they know what they’re doin’,” he replied gruffly.
You jumped down from your horse and patted its muzzle gently. “Mary-Beth is gonna run out and flag ‘em down, I’ll be off a ways to scope out the guards, and you two will be behind the log. Sean will ring off some shots, and Arthur will come in and clean up while I pick ‘em off from behind. Easy.”
Sean looked satisfied with that response and nodded. “Alright, perfect! Now, Morgan, let’s go and get behind this log, you-” he pointed in your direction, “-get over to those trees and don’t be spotted. Mary-Beth, get ready.”
The redhead felt proud of this plan, he was sure everything would work out, and he had the details down to a T. Everything went fine until it didn’t.
Instead of spooking the guards to throw them off, Sean took aim after hearing the way one of the men spoke to Mary-Beth and scoped him from his spot behind the log. Arthur immediately began to fire, albeit reluctantly since Sean was deviating from the initial plan. He hadn’t caught sight of you yet, but he figured you were doing alright for yourself. Then suddenly, a man lunged for Mary-Beth and held a gun to her head, his arm clenched around her throat.
“Let GO of me!” She snapped, trying her best to claw at his arm.
“Got your little lady friend here! Drop your guns!”
Arthur removed his rolling block rifle and watched the man hide himself behind the woman through the scope. “Dammit, he keeps movin’, don’t got a clear shot.”
“I got it!” You suddenly yelled out, and before you had a chance to line up the shot, the man had heard you and took aim. The shot rang out and the bullet penetrated your upper thigh. 
Your scream echoed out and Arthur finally had a clear shot to take the man down for good. “Sean, get Mary-Beth! I got them!” He said as he threw the gun over his shoulder and took off running where you’d fallen to the ground. “Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbled to himself as he finally caught up to you. 
You were trying your best to hold onto your leg the best you could to apply pressure, but it didn’t help much, you couldn’t stifle the scream you released when it hurt a little too much. “Shit, guess I messed that up badly…”
“Nah, you didn’t, lemme see,” Arthur said as he moved your hands, checking out where the wound was. “Ah, right through the meat of the leg but just missed your femoral artery. You’ll be alright, just gotta treat it when we get to camp. C’mon, it ain’t gonna feel pretty.” 
Arthur grabbed his bandana and tied it around your leg the best he could to keep pressure, then he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to his horse. 
Sean and Mary-Beth had cleaned out the coach and the dead men’s pockets as he took care of you, but Mary-Beth felt awful. “Are they gonna be alright?” She asked, her tone laced with worry. 
He just nodded and helped you as carefully as he could onto his horse, but the discomfort was a lot, yet you remained as strong as you could and held onto the horn of the saddle. “Call my horse, please…” You whimpered. “Can’t leave ‘em here…”
“You worry ‘bout yourself, your horse’ll be fine,” the gunslinger assured you as he hopped on behind you. “It’s gonna hurt with the ride but the faster we get back the better. Y’all go on, we’ll split the money when we meet back, don’t let anyone follow you.”
“Sir, yes sir,” Sean said with a meek smile, feeling awful you’d been hurt. “Take care of ‘em, will ya?” 
Arthur nodded in response, whistled for your horse to follow, and rode off as quickly as he could. The ride was definitely painful, but you managed to hold out long enough until you got back to camp, where Arthur had taken you to your tent, which thankfully had some privacy. He left you alone for all of two minutes when he came back with all the necessities he needed to fix you up proper. 
You lay there on your cot, and as you tried to look up at him to speak, all you could do was groan in pain until he placed his hand gently on the back of your neck, having you sit up slightly. “Here, take a shot of whiskey, it’ll help a bit. I gotta dig the bullet out and cauterize the wound.”
After hearing all that and swallowing the burning liquid, your consciousness was in and out, very hazy, until you saw black and just heard the sound of Arthur’s voice. 
Hours later, you awoke with a dry hoarseness in your throat, your eyes blinked rapidly to adjust to the low lamplight that had been inside your tent, and you looked up to see Arthur beside your cot. He already reached for the deerskin and placed it to your lips. You drank greedily at the water until you felt satisfied enough to pull away, coughing from the coldness. 
“There you are,” Arthur greeted softly, removing the deerskin from your grasp. “You’re gonna be fine, just gotta stay off the leg for a while,” he commented. “You feelin’ alright?” He leaned over and dunked a cloth into a bucket of water, then wring it out, and placed it gently over your forehead. 
You looked over at him and smiled softly. “Didn’t know you were so caring,” you joked softly, chuckling to yourself. 
Arthur waved his hand dismissively and scoffed. “Had my fair share of bullets is all, makin’ sure you don’t pull a stunt like that again, you hear?” 
You nodded and a small smile crept across your face, you couldn’t help but stare up at him and admire the man. He acted as if he didn’t care much about others, that he wasn’t any better than a stone-cold killer, but here he was worrying about you and taking care of you. Usually, it was left up to one of the women who were more well-versed in bedside manner, like Miss Grimshaw, but Arthur had insisted on your behalf. Naturally, he didn’t tell you this, it was Mary-Beth who informed you when she came in to visit while Arthur had gone to refill the bucket and grab some more medical supplies from Strauss’s wagon.
“Oh it’s been real sweet, he ain’t left unless he needed to get somethin’ for you,” Mary-Beth beamed. “Almost like somethin’ straight out of one of my books, he’s been real particular, too.”
“Of what?” You questioned.
“He hasn’t let anyone other than me and Tilly into your tent, even was on edge when Charles offered to help.” 
This information made your cheeks feel warm, he was practically babying you back to health, you’d never seen this side of him before. “Wow, I would have never expected Arthur Morgan to be at my bed-side,” you teased as you looked up at the young woman. 
She nodded, still all smiles. “Well, I hear him comin’ so that’s my cue, better leave you to it or else he’ll kick me out,” she joked and stood up from the chair. “You feel better, and holler if you need anythin’ from us.”
“Thanks, Mary-Beth.”
She nodded her head and left the tent, then was quickly replaced by Arthur, who set the bucket down beside his chair and had a bowl of stew in the other hand. “You think you can eat yet?”
You hummed in response and wet your dry lips with your tongue. “I can try if it’ll make you feel better.”
“It would, now here,” he offered as he slowly placed his hand beneath your shoulders, giving you a little push to help you sit up.
“Heard you’ve been fussin’ over me since we got back, that true?”
Arthur sighed, knowing damn well Mary-Beth was going to say something to you at some point. “It ain’t a big deal, no big drama,” he waved it off. “Just makin’ sure you’re gonna be okay, which you are, by the way.” He held the bowl until you were ready to take it and try to feed yourself, but still leaned forward in case he needed to grab it from you. “Just rest up and you’ll be right as rain soon enough.” You grabbed the bowl and smiled over at Arthur, the adoration in your eyes quite apparent. “Arthur… thank you, I know you’re gonna think it’s no big deal, but it is to me. Couldn’t have made it without you,” you remarked. “I owe you-”
“You don’t owe me nothin’, well, except maybe one thing.”
Your head perked up and you offered him a smile. “Anything.”
With that, his mouth curled into a wide smile, thoughts running through his head as if he could have said so many things, but those thoughts would be shared later. For now, he figured he should settle on the obvious. “Promise me next time you ain’t gonna go runnin’ with MacGuire, you need a job done, you ask me.” He sat back in the chair and offered a lopsided grin. 
Thankfully you didn’t bring the spoon up to your mouth; you’d laughed and almost dropped the bowl. “Sure thing, Arthur, anything for you.” Your eyes locked with his and you couldn’t help but feel like you owed him more than that, but for now, you owed him to get better and listen for once. You’d show him how grateful you were when you could use your leg again. 
“Hey, Arthur?”
“Hmm?”
“Thanks again,” you said softly. 
The man just chuckled and lit up a cigarette after getting your permission. “Anytime, sweetheart.”
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alkaline-wtr · 3 days
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ELEVATOR
Ghost x gn!reader
Description: Ghost and reader are neighbors who get stuck together in an elevator. Genre/Warnings: Ghost x reader, gn!reader, fluff, angst, a little hurt comfort, possibly enemies to lovers, imagine WC: 987
My Masterlist
**AN Good morning! Here's a little fluff, I don't exactly know if the genres I tagged it as fit, but either way i thought this piece was cute. Enjoy.
Ghost steps onto the elevator watching it close slowly, the doors are almost shut when he hears a voice.
"Wait!"
He peered through the two metal plates you come walking quickly down the hall.
Ghost lets out an irritated sigh realizing it's you.
You and Ghost were neighbors. Living on the same floor of the apartment building. For some reason, despite your efforts over the last year Ghost just didn't seem to like you. In fact, he despised you.
Ghost wasn't exactly sure what it was about you that made him dislike you so much. Maybe it was your intrusive nature.
You put your hand in between the doors causing them to retract.
"Good morning, Simon. How are you?"
You asked in a sweet voice as you stepped onto the elevator beside him.
"Fine."
Ghost grumbled in response. You smile back at him but there is a sadness in your eyes.
Ghost presses the button for the first floor. He is obviously in no mood for small talk.
The elevator begins its descent. A low hum emits from the fluorescent lights overhead. Filling the uncomfortable silence between you.
You're watching as the numbers go down when suddenly the elevator comes to a halt rumbling beneath your feet.
The first thought that comes to Ghost's mind is confusion. His hand reaches across you and taps the button a couple times.
You watch with wide eyes as Ghost fiddles with the buttons.
"We're not stuck, are we?"
Ghost's glares at you,
"Obviously." He snapped.
Normally the comment would have hurt you but all you felt at this moment was the rising panic at the realization of the situation.
Ghost sighs pulling out his phone. He immediately notices the absence of the little white bars on the top of the screen.
"No reception."
He states, holding his cell up in the air in an attempt to find a connection.
The pounding of your heart is like a drumbeat in your chest. The warm wave of the fear and adrenaline washing over you makes you feel disconnected. You don't hear Ghosts frustrated grunts.
You'd always had anxiety, and this was one of your biggest fears.
Ghost lowers his Phone and looks down to you.
"What?"
Ghost asks annoyed. Pure terror is apparent on your face.
"I-I just- This... has always been a fear of mine."
You stuttered.
His expression softens. Ghost was well aware of anxiety and the effects it can have.
"It'll be okay."
His attempts at reassuring you don't seem to work as your breathing grows shallower.
Instead of the usual irritation Ghost felt being in your presence, he felt sympathetic towards you. Understanding first-hand how you were feeling in this moment.
"I suffer from anxiety too sometimes."
His voice is soft, and you can see something in his eyes you never had before, vulnerability.
The momentary silence between you two is loud. Your eyes are locked with his before you finally speak.
"Simon?"
The words are soft. He looked at you expectantly.
"Why do you hate me so much?"
The whispered question hangs in the air. Ghost breathes out a sigh averting his eyes.
"I don't..."
He stops himself from answering and thinks. Ghost hadn't really had a reason. He just wasn't fond of you. His negative feelings were unjustified. As he thought back to all the previous interactions, he realized you'd never been anything but nice to him.
With the pain and hurt of his difficult past, He'd found it hard for him to tolerate your positive and bubbly attitude. He was hurting deep inside, and you only brought that to light.
The truth was you hadn't done anything wrong, Ghost just couldn't separate his feelings of frustration from his opinion of you.
"I owe you an apology, y/n. I've allowed my own frustrations to interfere with my behavior towards you. It is unfair, and you never deserved to bear the brunt of it."
You looked at him shocked by his words. Ghost didn't seem the type to apologize.
"Will you please forgive me?"
He asked. Ghost knew you had every right to turn him away. After the way he had treated you for so long, he didn't deserve your forgiveness.
As always you proved to be kindhearted with your generous response.
"Of course. We all have our struggles. I appreciate you being honest with me."
You smiled at him. Your smile seemed so genuine and pure.
"I know this may mean nothing but if I'm honest with you, I've always liked you."
Your admission takes Ghost by surprise. The truth of the matter was that you had feelings for Ghost for a while. By hanging around and being friendly you hoped he could eventually warm up to you. Although, it had all seemed stupid now, you should have just communicated.
Ghost searched your face for any indication of what you were thinking. He had no idea how to respond. So, he did the only thing that came to mind at the moment.
A rough hand grabs your cheek forcing you to face him. Ghost hovers his lips over yours for a moment a silent way of asking for your permission.
When you didn't pull away Ghost took that as an okay to continue. His plush lips brush against yours.
You stiffen in hesitation, unsure of your actions. This had been a moment you'd only dreamt of and now that it was happening you didn't want anything to mess it up.
Finally, you lean in, kissing him back.  laughing nervously, when he pulls away.
"I almost forgot that we are stuck in an elevator."
You whisper. Ghost chuckles to himself and glances around
"Oh yeah. We aren't we."
He leans across you and presses the emergency call button. As you're waiting for Ghost to find a solution to the situation you can't help but smile to yourself feeling giddy and excited about what is to come.
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anincompletelist · 1 day
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feb + march recs <3
[other rec links below the cut!]
y'all know the drill! as always, please remember to leave kudos and a comment if you enjoyed the fic or show support in other ways, and be kind! mind the tags and if you come across something you dislike, please kindly (and quietly) move on.
I had quite a few recs to catch up on - and am STILL catching up on - as I have been MIA with physical/mental health shenanigans as of late (so please excuse the fact that these are a bit angsty skjdhkjhd). thank you as always to these authors and their beautiful words for being a comfort! I love having a full 'to-read' list! :D
see you again soon, and happy reading! <3
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back with more soon! see my other recs below:
vol i
vol ii
vol iii
vol iv
vol v
emotional hurt/comfort
kid fics
tag for all recs
xx
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