#idk what this title is i thought it was neat

[nonbinaryaubrey]

i wont because i dont tend to like writing fics but also i. so badly want to make a fic for Playing Forever AU titled domino effect

#i just thought that title for it would be neat ... #i think itd start riiight after basil dies. and focuses more on what happens with the group afterwards and less on the headspace stuff. #atleast for a bit idk #i like thinking up fics i just dont rlly want to touch fic writing. i enjoy writing its just harder to do on my own #aubrey.txt

[esvcort]

cw: suggestive, nsfw, dubcon-ish(?) if u squint

author's note: my first post, woohoo!! this is literally just an idea dump, very cliché scenarios and idk what this is actually lolll

the kamisato clan's head finds out about your hobby in an unexpected way. he made the effort to finish all of his tasks for the next two days, an act to spend more time with his lovely wife, having been mostly absent for the first few months of your arranged marriage. it was late in the afternoon when he retired to your shared room, waiting for you to return from your trip to inazuma city. you picked up a hobby to busy yourself with, as he wasn't always around the estate. you have developed a liking for reading books from the yae publishing house, going there at least once a week. his eyes find your desk on the side of the room, with papers haphazardly scattered all over it. he chuckled to himself, shaking his head at your surprising messiness. in an attempt to tidy up the space, his eyes catch some words on the paper in your neat handwriting.

the fireflies had already lit up the night when you arrived. you slip off your geta when you reach the entrance of the estate. your feet are slow and quiet as you walk towards the room, clutching the newly bought books and writing materials close to your chest, afraid to disturb your husband, who must be resting at this time. your eyebrows raise in surprise as you slide the door open to reveal ayato sitting on the edge of the bed.

"my lord! why are you still awake this late at night?" the title you call him makes him smirk. he stands up from his position and stills in front of you. a smile paints his face, and your eyes automatically drop down to the beauty mark under his lips.

"i thought i told you not to call me that, sweetheart." ayato gently pried the materials from your hold and put them down on your nearby desk. an small noise bubbles from your throat as his warm and lithe fingers brush against your hand. "i am your husband, and you are my wife. i believe we're past such formalities, don't you think?" his lavender eyes stared at you as his figure loomed over your own, and he waited for your response.

"i, uh," you stammered nervously as his towering presence created an intimidating aura. you stepped backward, leaned your hands and sat slightly on the desk for support. "i didn't think we were affectionate enough for each other to cross such a line, my lord."

he laughs a little, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "i suppose, so. although," your heart beats faster as he slowly walks towards you, leaning in close, close enough for your noses to brush each other now and then. this is the closest you've been to ayato in the span of your marriage. the unusual proximity does wonders for you; your heart beats faster, and your senses are heightened. you can feel the warmth of his body as both of his hands cover your own, effectively trapping you against the table. your husband leans over to whisper in your ear. "i would believe you if your insistence on calling me "my lord", didn't remind me of something."

"a-and what may that be, my lord?"

"'my lord's hands slowly inch up the supple skin of my thigh under the fabric, all the while pinning me on his desk.' sound familiar, darling?" your eyes widen in shock, and a strange feeling like electricity crawls all throughout your body.

"that- it's for a book i'm writing!" you turn your head to defend silently, followed by an audible gulp.

"why didn't you tell me you were writing such a book for the yae publishing house, hmm? is that why the books you buy also have such explicit themes, sweetheart?" more embarrassment comes over you in the mention that he has seen the content of your books. you guess the additional plain paper covers you had put over them were not enough.

"well- it- it helps for reference?" you answer, unsure and embarrassed that you had just indirectly admitted your inexperience. ayato lets out a breathless laugh and smirks. he faces you and takes your chin in his hands. he looks down on you; his light purple eyes pulling you into him, hypnotizing you away.

"darling," he purrs, and the deep rumble of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. your breath gets caught in your throat when his hand moves to your shoulder and carefully pushes you down on your back on the desk.

"my lord," you call out weakly, getting lost as you feel him settle himself between your legs. his tall figure hovers above you as his hand reaches the hem of your yukata. he bends down and kisses the corner of your open mouth. the desire to be touched was consuming you.

"if you wanted reference," he bucks his clothed hips on yours and takes pleasure in the pant you breathe out. your legs wrap around his waist, feeling hot as he continues to grind down on you slowly.

"i could show you much more than what your meager book has."

likes and reblogs are much appreciated!!

#esvcort #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #genshin impact #genshin smut #genshin ayato #arranged marriage au #esvcort drabbles

[haowrld]

seventeen + dates — seventeen x gn!reader

synopsis : going on dates with each seventeen members! self explanatory title ✨

notes : seventeen x reader, fluff, humor, romance

warnings : mentions of dying (as a joke), one curse word

a/n : not proofread. i think my brain has been drained. working on thirteen members could literally be like working on thirteen stories…wow like idk how ppl write for thirteen ppl

masterlist

choi seungcheol

dog cafe dates. the excitement he has when he sees multiple dogs running to him. seungcheol hadn’t touched his dessert when tapped your shoulder, “yn look,” he whispers to you when you see a dog in his lap, sleeping peacefully. and wow, it makes your heart melt, “do you want to feed it?” you give him a snack for the dog, the dog immediately jumping at the sight of it. looking at the dog who is licking seungcheol’s fingers, it would definitely remind you of his dog kkuma. seungcheol would hold your hand as both of you would talk about pets. this date was definitely such a serotonin boost for seungcheol and you would know that he might visit this café more often.

yoon jeonghan

lego building dates. “flower lego set?” with music filling the room, you and jeonghan would have different things to build, “there’s so many blocks…” you mumble to yourself as you look at jeonghan who’s calmly working on his lego set. “i finished the other flower,” jeonghan would always tell you when he’s finished with each pieces. each lego building with jeonghan will never be awkward, his hums with the music and the sound of clicking of legos, this date with him is always calming. as both of you finally finish building the lego set, he would smile as he places his flower bouquet lego set next to your orchid lego set. “let’s build a castle next,” he jokes, making you playfully slap his shoulder.

hong joshua

pottery dates. pottery has become one of joshua’s many hobbies, and he thought maybe he could show off his neat skills. “you’re doing amazing yn! love the handle of the cup,” joshua would compliment you doing the little fixes of your cup, joshua would also try to help you out with your cup, hands touching, “here, so you do this…” he quietly says as he guides your hands, smoothing out the clay. even when he’s focused on painting his plate, you would see him stealing glances at you. you’re painting stars and (◠‿◠) in your cup, which joshua would notice and give you the same eye smile. both of you would place your finished products in the coffee table and place paper flowers in the cup.

wen junhui

picnic dates. “okay, three, two, one” as junhui removes the blindfolds, you are welcome with the morning light, and junhui’s warm smile. wine glass are filled with refreshments as you both share stories and just enjoy each other’s company, you also take pictures of junhui from time to time. playing with junhui’s hair as he’s resting his head on your lap, he looks at you with eyes that are too much for your heart to handle. “question, do you love me?” he asks you, even though he already knows what you’re going to answer. with all your heart, you love wen junhui.

kwon soonyoung

amusement park dates. the atmosphere is filled with energy and screams of both kids and adults. both of you hold hands after a fun go-kart ride, “maybe we could grab something to eat,” you mention before soonyoung goes to a full stop before running to the large rollercoaster “let’s go ride that rollercoaster!” as soonyoung drags you closer to the ride, you feel a pit on your stomach, seeing the large loops and hearing the loud screams of the people. the ride would be shaky as you’re taking deep breaths, you look at soonyoung who’s telling you how much he loves you and how he’s going to miss you and everyone, you begin to become teary eyed, not because of soonyoung saying he loves you, but because you’re almost at the drop.

jeon wonwoo

videogame dates. so many games to choose from, maybe switch games, or maybe stories with storylines. “we could play bread and fred,” you mention as wonwoo looks it up curiously. wonwoo’s room could be filled with screams, seeing your own character literally face plant would be the most funniest and stressful feeling you have ever felt. “if we jump at the same time–ah AHH,” wonwoo screams as his character accidentally falls with you. but at the same time it could be filled with tears. as you tear up from playing a sad game, wonwoo would wipe your tears away, cuddling with you.

lee jihoon

sleepover dates. “it looks so pretty,” jihoon looks at your bright smile at the pillow fort that he made for you. there would be bunch of snacks laid out neatly and the tv is airing one of jihoon’s favorite anime (what a nerd). as jihoon rambles about the beautiful gem that is cardcaptor sakura, he looks over to you sleeping, as much as he wants to watch you sleep, how dare you sleep on his essay. you jolt awake, feeling a bit of pain on your forehead. “i haven’t finished talking and here you are sleeping,” jihoon says as he steals the blanket from you. “it’s too cold!” you get closer to jihoon, cuddling close to him. “i’m too tired for this..” you say which makes jihoon laugh, “yeah, i’ll tell you about it tomorrow, just get some sleep,” you look at jihoon with tired eyes before saying quietly, “goodnight..”

xu minghao

dinner dates. “you look handsome tonight darling,” minghao smiles before gently holding your face and kissing your lips. the mood of your home is romantic, rose scented candle is lit and piano is quietly playing in the background. minghao would tell stories of his family and many more you haven’t learned about. clinking your glasses, minghao shuffles in his seat before giving you a small box. “i thought you might like this…” as you open the box, you find a small silver necklace, decorated beautifully. minghao smiles when you give him a tight embrace.

kim mingyu

shopping dates. mingyu is literally going to drag you around each shop that catches your eye, like would notice you would be eyeing at an outfit at the window before mingyu is just casually saying, “wanna buy it?”. even with the tags in your outfit mingyu would immediately be taking pictures you as if you are an actual model. “yn, what do you think of my fit?” don’t forget to give him compliments when he comes out of that dressing room looking stylish. “i think this ring looks pretty on you,” mingyu shows you a lovely ring before sliding it on your pointer finger, see now you guys have matching rings.

lee seokmin

joyride dates. seokmin would blast the speakers with his favorite songs, having a fun time just driving around. “can i press the horn?” seokmin at first would look at you confused as you are unbuckling your seatbelt, BEEP BEEP, it would go quiet before seokmin would burst out laughing. you guys would have food bought from mcdonalds and park at some empty parking space. “stop stealing my fries!” seokmin slaps your hand away. you guys would stargaze at the sky, taking a sip of your drinks. “isn’t the sky beautiful tonight?” he looks at you curiously, before thinking about what to answer. “yes. you’re beautiful tonight,” he answers, as he gives your hand a tight squeeze.

boo seungkwan

arcade dates. as soon you guys would walk in, there’s so many things to do in this bustling arcade, should you and seungkwan shoot some hoops? play fighting games? you find a thriller shooting game, taking him as he says, “wait! what if we actually die..!?”. after trying to save seungkwan from a bunch of zombies, you notice seungkwan’s eyes sparkle, the claw machine has a stuffed bear that has the vibes of seungkwan…? “UGH! THIS CLAW MACHINE IS RIGGED!” seungkwan sighs in frustration as he looks at his game card, he has one more try. looking at you gives him a bit of hope, as he looks at the toy, carefully, it drops. you and seungkwan scream in excitement, quickly grabbing the bear, seungkwan looks at you before giving you a quick kiss.

chwe vernon

ice skating dates. vernon was always the type to try out new activities and this one was another one on his bucket list, “woah, woah,” the cool air brushes against your face as you slowly put your skates on the ice ground. vernon, of course is easily gliding on the ice rink. he would try to help you get used to skating, though it usually causes both of you to slip on the ground. “vernon, don’t think i could do it anymore…” you tell him, “ai, come on get up, get up,” he takes your hand, pulling you up. “let’s take things slow, ‘kay?” vernon holds your hand, as both of you carefully move around the rink. though there was a bit of shaking and nervousness from you, vernon is willing to take things slow for you.

lee chan

beach dates. “chan! how do i look?” ‘wow, can i marry you right now?’ is what chan would say to you, but he can’t form any other response but just “wow,”. you and chan would collect sea shells, looking the most prettiest one and showing it to each other, “mine looks prettier,” you say, “no! mine is better!” chan retaliates. other cute things you guys would do, hand holding while walking along the shore. it’s sweet and all until would suddenly push you close to the water, falling in the process. “you little shit!” chan laughs at your predicament, “wait yn! no AH!” you grab chan into the water getting him soaked. “now we’re even,” you grin as chan laughs, tackling you.

#🍙﹕written by mellow #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fics #seventeen scenario #seventeen headcanons #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #svt headcanons #seungcheol x reader #jeonghan x reader #joshua x reader #junhui x reader #soonyoung x reader #jihoon x reader #minghao x reader #mingyu x reader #seokmin x reader #seungkwan x reader #vernon x reader #chan x reader #scoups x reader #jun x reader #hoshi x reader #dokyeom x reader #dino x reader

[si1verghosts]

you and me found love (lost under the shade)

re4r leon s. kennedy x fem reader (no use of y/n)

wc: 3.3k

18+ | cw: mentions of drinking, smoking, sex | tw: illusions to suicidal thoughts; author's general preoccupation with death and dying

read on ao3

title: falling asleep on a stranger by pierce the veil | art: taft bridge under the rain [#127] by carmonamedina

a/n: i honestly don't know if i am doing this whole tagging thing right idk how to tag on here so sorry if i missed anything.... anyways, this is the first thing i've managed to finish in months - i did not imagine the first leon fic i'd actually post would be reader insert but here we are!! i hope u enjoy :D

not beta read - all mistakes my own or done purposely due to my general disrespect for the grammatical conventions of the english language.

i do not own leon, yadda yadda, please don't sue me <3

please do not use my work to train any sort of AI chat bot and/or writing generator.

-----

"I can't be what you want," Leon had said, voice even. "Maybe you should try to find someone else; someone who can… be around."

Someone who can give you a straight answer. Someone who doesn't come home bloodied and bruised and can't tell you why. Someone who doesn't make you feel like it's all just a lie. 

You had never heeded any of Leon's suggestions before - "You should go," he had whispered after that first night, and the second, and the third - but you wish you had; so you give it a shot now. 

You let your friend set you up with the guy in accounting at her job she had been telling you about for months. "And get this - he always wears a tie bar! He just seems so put together," she had raved to you over drinks the weekend prior.

Accounting, tie bar, put together. Nice, neat, safe. 

You had shrugged, "give him my number."

He's waiting for you outside the bar when you arrive, jogs over when he notices you approaching, holding his umbrella out over you. It's unnecessary - the cold precipitation is hardly a mist, barely coating the strands of your hair. "You look beautiful," he smiles. It feels rehearsed, platitudinous. You thank him, letting him guide you inside. 

His hand brushes your arm as he helps you out of your jacket, skin soft. You pull away with the shock of it, covering with a small wave of beckoning. He falls in behind you as you traverse the familiar path through the room to your usual spot, settling in before he can manage to make a show out of pulling out your chair.

Same table, different seat; back against the wall - it's a whole new perspective. No longer focused solely on the person across from you, it's as if the whole world falls into your line of sight. It suddenly makes sense why you always found it so difficult to hold on to Leon's attention.

He slinks away to acquire your requested vodka soda from the bar. You pick at your nails until your fingers shake, shifting to look out the windows. The rain has picked up, pelting the glass and obscuring the view. You long for your car and the pack of menthols tucked away in the glove box, nobody to quit for now. 

He returns with your drinks, water for himself - "trying to cut back on carbs, you know? I've been making real progress with my lifts lately." 

"That's great," you smile. 

He leans in, beginning to chatter away excitedly about weights and protein and bicycles and Wall Street. His cologne reeks of business school, of polo shirts and white picket fences and 2.5 kids. You hope you are nodding at all the right moments. His tie bar catches the light of the Budweiser sign hanging behind you, silver glinting red, as if informing you you aren't.

It's hard, much harder than it reasonably should be but you've forgotten how to do this. Leon and you hardly spoke; the silence was easier - until it grew violent from your overreliance. 

You catch the ring of the doorbell over the drone of his voice, a familiar shape of blonde hair and brown leather entering your peripheral vision. You turn, a sick sense of satisfaction slithering up your spine. 

Shoulders hunched and hands shoved deep in his pockets, he shakes off the water droplets clinging to his hair like a dog. He picks his head up, blue eyes and dark circles meet your gaze almost immediately.

You raise a brow, I took your advice; happy?

He spins around, setting the bell off again as he slips out the door. 

"I'm sorry," you interrupt your date, who had been entertaining himself, seemingly never even recognizing your shift in attention. "I'll be right back." 

You are out the door a second later, shoving your arms back into the coat you thankfully remembered to grab, shielding your skin from the rain clouding your vision. Blinking away the droplets from your lashes, you spot Leon making his way down the sidewalk and take off after him, catching up as he nears the corner. 

You call to him, voice near enough to stop him, but only for a moment. "Go back inside," he throws over his shoulder, continuing forward.

You want to reach out and grab him, make him turn to look at you, but his shoulders are set in a tense line. Your touch is sure to set him off like a slingshot. 

Steeling yourself, you dart around him, blocking his path. You find yourself in front of him without any idea of what to say. You gape at him stupidly, chest heaving from the exertion of chasing him down; maybe you should've asked what's-his-name for a good gym recommendation before you ran off.

Leon entertains you for a moment before he huffs, eyes narrowing, "what are you doing?"

It's an excellent question - one you had never bothered to stop and ask yourself. 

What are you doing? 

Why did you agree to go for drinks? Why had you put on the dress Leon had carefully unzipped and let pool around your ankles just a few weeks ago? Why had you asked Mr. Tie Bar to meet you at the bar you knew Leon always popped into after work? 

Fuck. 

You swallow harshly, "trying." 

"Trying?" Leon reiterates, almost laughing. "And what is it that you are trying?"

Normal. To get over you. To make you mad. Honesty. To make you look at me. To make you want me like I want you. Safety. To hurt you. To get you to say something, anything. Trust. To get you to make me stay. To get you to stay. 

You feel yourself frown, the familiar pressure of tears building behind your nose. You try to swallow the feeling but it just mixes with the venom stuck in your throat, bubbling back up after mutating into a bitter twinge of anger. "What the hell does it look like, Leon? You told me to try to find someone else - that's what I'm trying."

He rocks back on his heels, crossing his arms. "Well, it doesn't really seem to be working out, does it?" 

"It was going great, actually." You smile, hoping it's not as hollow as you feel. 

"Oh, yeah?" He cocks a brow, lips pulling into a sly smirk. "Then why are you out here with me?

"You," you huff, at a loss. His words seem to be coming easier than ever while you choke on every one. You shrug, "You looked upset when you left."

"And I'm sure that's exactly what you wanted, right?" His smirk stretches into an acetous grin. "Came to relish in the tears, huh? Sorry to disappoint." He moves to brush by you, but you plant yourself in his path once again. 

"I can't believe-" you start, but stop short. Because you can believe he'd think of you that way - you'd never given him a reason to think otherwise. 

You think back to the silence that had made its home between the two of you, realizing you had used it as a confidant, letting it absorb everything you should've given to Leon instead. 

"I just wanted to check on you, see how you are doing." Your voice comes out as small as you feel under the weight of Leon's gaze. It's ironic - all this time you just wanted him to look at you, and now you wish he'd turn his eyes anywhere else. 

He snorts, short and irascibly, "I don't need you worrying about me."

"I know you don't, Leon," you throw your hands out, rainwater flicking off your skin with your exasperation. "You've made that very clear. But I can't help it - I'm going to anyways." 

"You shouldn't."

"Why not?" You half-yell, half-whine. You cringe at the sound, feeling slightly delirious; freezing cold and nearly begging him to let you care. 

 "Because you can do better." His voice is even once again, feelings stacked neatly away and locked up tight. 

"You don't get to decide that for me," you spit, ears ringing with the echo of your too-loud voice. 

"Yeah," he nods. "I do." 

He steps around you again, intending to disappear down the side street. But this time you grab him, fingers latching onto the slippery leather of his jacket, his arm as tense as a bowstring under your grip. 

"Let me go," he requests without turning to look at you, voice still even, even, even. It's a courtesy, he could easily pull free - but you are sick of his kindness, his courtesies; that's how you ended up here. You don't want them anymore.

"Make me." 

"Let me go," he repeats, slower and thicker. 

"No." If you want me gone, you'll have to force me. You don't say it, but you know he got the message when his shoulders slump, fight draining out of him all at once. 

With the thrill of victory that ripples through you, you make the mistake of loosening your hold on his jacket. He seizes the opportunity, twisting your arm and grabbing you by the bicep, pulling you close. He is running hot despite the chill of the rain, you have to force yourself not to relax into his heat. 

A moment passes, and then another. Neither of you move. The precipitation falls in sheets around you. You can't bring yourself to care. 

Your gaze slides from his chest to his neck to his jaw, backtracking the path of a stray raindrop. You chance a glance at his eyes, finding they are already on you, steely blue shimmering with the light of the streetlamp behind you. 

You love him. 

You wish the ground would crack open, allowing you to freefall straight down to hell. You imagine that would feel better - less painful - than this. 

You love him, and your skin burns with the feeling of it. You want to throw up. You want to kiss him. You want to pound your fists against his chest, curse him for doing this to you. 

You settle for allowing a sob to escape your throat. 

He releases you from his hold instantly at the sound. You scramble to grip his jacket to keep yourself upright - it's pitiful, the teeth of the zipper biting into the skin of your hands. The sharp pain comes as a tether, gifting you the space to ground yourself, to shove the tears back down. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers, tight and clipped. "I didn't mean to-"

"No," you cut him off, voice rough, grating. "It wasn't. You didn't hurt me."

"Okay," he mutters. 

You laugh. You love him and you can't help but laugh, sinking into the insanity of it. 

You feel him start to stiffen again, unsure. The feeling of his discomfort building under your fingers forces you back into yourself, realizing where you are, that you've been causing a scene on the corner down the block from his apartment. 

You release him, but you don't step away, tilting your head just enough to take in the sight of him - parted lips and a handful of freckles, blonde hair tinted green by the neon sign over the entrance of the convenience store a few feet away. 

"I'm sorry," you croak out, drifting back; wishing the rain would melt you down, suck you into the storm drain. That's the only thing that could pull you from him, you think; swirling down the gutters with the cigarette butts and the fallen cherry blossoms until you're laid to rest at the bottom of the Potomac. 

His nose twitches. "For what?"

That I can't find someone else, can't force myself away from you.

That I love you, but can't tell you.  

"For," you throw your hands out, weaker than before. "All of it."

He nods, "It's okay."

You don't want it to be, but you suddenly feel exhausted. Too tired to fight, to pull any more truths from him. 

"Take me home?" You request, you plead. 

He nods again, holding his hand out to you. "Yeah."

You intertwine your fingers with his own, the roughness of his callouses and scars soothing in their familiarity. 

The walk to his place is short. You don't bother trying to shake off the water before entering, leaving a trail of raindrops up the stairwell, down the hall, through his front door, across his apartment to the tiled floor of his bathroom. 

He reaches into the shower, cranking the hot water, allowing the stream to heat up as he helps you out of your wet clothes. He removes the drenched fabric piece by piece - jacket first, then your dress, unzipping it with even more care than the previous time. It doesn't slip off with the same ease, but his gentle fingers pull it from your skin until it falls away. He crouches to undo your shoes, allowing you to step out of them before reaching up and rolling your nylons, guiding them down your legs. 

He moves to do the same with your underwear, fingers resting on the waistband as he glances up to you, silently asking your permission even though he already has it, always will. There's no heat behind his actions, but the tenderness sears your skin all the same. You nod, a low ache settling into the center of your chest as he slides them off you before standing. You unclasp your bra; he doesn't comment on the matching set.

The steam of the boiling shower envelops you as you undress him in turn. You struggle with his belt buckle, stiff fingers uncooperative. He takes over and you drop to your knees to untie the laces of his boots, finding them mercifully secured with single-knots. You make quick work of them and he reaches down to help you up, moving you out of the way before he kicks them off. 

You assist him in pulling his shirt over his head, peeling the cotton away from his skin. You unbutton his jeans as he removes the clips from your hair, wet strands falling limply in front of your eyes. 

"Go ahead and get in, I'll go throw this stuff in the wash." His voice is mellifluous, sickeningly soft. 

It makes you feel like a kid, incompetent and helpless. You hate him for it. You hate yourself for twisting his kindness into something dark and disgusting. 

"I can help," you offer, because that's all you can do; already leaning down to collect your things. "You have to hang the jacket, it's-"

"Wool. I know," his hand brushes your back lightly, "it's okay. I'll be right back."

You straighten up, allowing him to guide you across the bathroom and help you into the tub. You slowly ease your way under the hot stream as he slides the shower curtain closed. 

You watch the shape of him through the cloudy plastic, shucking off his jeans and pulling off his socks. The sobs you had just barely choked down twice before make another escape attempt, clawing at your throat as you watch his shadow collect your clothes and move down the hall. 

You shut your eyes against the sudden emptiness of the room, against the tears and the silence and the panic; against the loathing and inferiority. You take the coward's way out, turning away from it all to hold your face up to the showerhead. 

He returns quickly, rustling around for a moment before slipping into the tub behind you. His presence awards you the bravery you needed to crack open your eyes, to clear your throat. "You're wrong, you know."

Exhaustion overshadows his amusement as he hums in question, "about what?"

Picking your hand up, you reach out slowly to slide your fingers along his collarbone, circle the puckered scar on his shoulder. "That I can find someone better." 

He scoffs, dropping his head, hair fluttering down to obscure his face. 

You move your hand to his neck, thumbing his jaw. "If anything, it's me who doesn't deserve you, Leon." 

He shakes his head, but you ignore the action, continuing before he can protest. "Nobody can take care of me like you do - not even myself. I'm sorry" - for needing you, for burdening you; for loving you even though I'm unworthy of it - "for pushing you. I understand there are things you can't share, but I want whatever you can."

You sigh, shifting your hand at his neck to pull him to you; he follows you easily, achingly. "Even if it's just this." 

He nods minutely, hooking his arms over your hips and resting his forehead on yours. Answer delivered on a breath that floats across your lips, "alright." 

You remain in his arms, his agreement echoing in your mind in time with the beat of your heart in your chest. Seconds morph into minutes, only moving when the water begins to grow cold. 

You wash first, your shampoo and conditioner still on the rack next to his own. Leaving him under the stream, you make your way to his room after wrapping yourself in one of the towels he'd brought into the bathroom. 

Home. You had asked him to take you home and he brought you here, despite your own place being just a few blocks further in the opposite direction of his from the corner you had been on. But his assumption was right; this - he - was home to you.  

The emptiness of his apartment was unsettling at first, but it quickly grew comforting - no regrets staining the carpet; no photos on the dresser of you as a girl you don't remember being. Here you could be untethered from the past you didn't want; white walls graciously offering a clean slate, even if you didn't deserve it, didn't earn it. 

There is a shirt of his waiting on the bed for you, a pair of your pajama pants in the drawer next to his. Your stomach turns at the sight - no wonder he had tried to push you away; you had subconsciously settled into his space, his closet and his bed. 

Your mug in the sink, your pills behind the mirror - the reckless domesticity of it all is startling, terrifying. He had given you an inch and you had taken a mile, too eager for the chance to be something new. 

You pull on the clothes, making your way towards the balcony, a wave of nausea rolling through you under the soft cotton. Outside, it's still raining, translucent ropes sluicing off the overhang of the roof. 

You almost immediately regret stepping outside, feeling as if it's a betrayal of the care Leon took to get you warm; but you needed it. The chill of the air forces your thoughts to line up, to wait to be addressed one by one.

His hand leading you home, your wool coat hung to dry, his shirt waiting on the bed for you to occupy - each act a silent invitation; the realization stirs inside you, grips your collarbones from the inside. 

Could it be…?

You should ask him, but you've asked for more than enough tonight. 

He slides open the glass door, sweatpants low on his hips; the lamp on his nightstand illuminates him from behind, feathering out all his sharp edges. Maybe it's not love; maybe it's just lust, desire - a need so great it's all-consuming. You have no point of comparison to use as a frame of reference, to assist in finding the distinction. 

"I was away for a few days, there's not much in the fridge. Is ramen alright or do you want to order something?" He asks and it's love, you are suddenly sure of it. 

You turn; the sight of Leon in the buttery glow of the bedroom acting as a beacon, guiding you through the terror. "Ramen is fine."

#(writing) #leon kennedy #leon s. kennedy #resident evil 4 #leon resident evil #resident evil 4 remake #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy x you #leon kennedy x fem reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #geez how many variations of the leon x reader tag is there... #i do not think i got them all but this is More than enough

[five-crows-in-a-trenchcoat]

Yknow, it took a very long time for me to realise what the title of pokemon x y (and z) meant bc up until then they were all pretty solid counterparts. Red, blue and yellow, the primary colours. Gold, silver and crystal, the luxurious. Ruby, sapphire and emerald, not only precious gems but the rgb colours (and just colour matching the legendaries too). Diamond (the classic ‘most valuable’ stone), pearl (the classic ‘most valuable’ biological ‘stone’), and platinum (the classic ‘most valuable’ metal). Black and white.

After x and y we of course had sun and moon, sword and shield and finally scarlet and violet (infrared and ultraviolet, the two ends of the colour spectrum. The only reason they wouldn’t have called it pokemon infrared and ultraviolet is bc pokemon red already exists and ppl would think it was a gen 1 remake, and ultra sun/moon also already exists).

But back when x and y came around, and I thought ‘it’s just letters, I know that the legendaries sort of look like them but if it’s opposites then shouldn’t it be a and z?’ (Cool how they brought that back with legends z-a)

And it took me way too fucking long to realise that x y and z are the three digital planes to symbolise Pokémon’s first mainline 3D game. Idk I just thought that was neat.

#pokemon #pokemon x and y #pokemon xy #pokemon red and blue #pokemon gold and silver #pokemon crystal #pokemon ruby and sapphire #pokemon emerald #pokemon diamond and pearl #pokemon platinum #pokemon black and white #pokemon sun and moon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon scarlet and violet #pokemon legends za

[seokgyuu]

idk what the other heathens (affectionate) have asked for but i just think it’s neat how serious and cute seokmin gets when he’s kissing you. like he holds your face as he’s kissing you deep and slowly and he’ll mumble in between each one about how he loves you and he’d constantly have eye contact and look between your lips and eyes and i just… really wanna make out with him

- nova (it’s not really a request BUT FOOD FOR THOUGHT hehe)

a/n: well hello there nova <3 this turned out a bit different than what you asked for, but i hope its still fine!! literally just went with the flow of making out with seokmin.. hehe. kinda liked the idea of him being a loser that just happens to be an absolute ace when it comes to making out *giggles*. let me know what you think!

TITLE: sweet, sweeter, seokmin's kisses

PAIRING: Seokmin(DK) x Fem!Reader

GENRE: frat au (just mentioned that they are in a frat lmao)

WARNINGS: mentions of drinking alcohol, loads of kissing, it is suggestive but no smut, still MDNI!

WORDCOUNT: 1.4k

TAGS: @honeykyeom, @onlyseokmins, @playmetheclassics, @the-boy-meets-evil, @dkakapizzaboy my fellow dk ferals <3

Playing Truth or Dare was so Middle School. Not that that stopped anyone from playing it at Jihoon’s birthday party. 

You were seated cross legged next to Chan, a beer in your hand that surely had reached room temperature by now. Wonwoo was the one doing a dare for fifteen minutes, still counting. He had been dared to call his first girlfriend and tell her he wanted her back (which was absolutely infuriating and manipulative and horrible, but you were surrounded by a bunch of frat dudes who didn’t know boundaries) and she still hadn’t picked up. Why he kept on trying, you didn’t know. Perhaps he really wanted her back.

“Just leave a message, what the fuck,” you finally breathed out, face in a frown and the circle of dudes all turned to look at you. God damnit, why did their frat have to be the most unpopular on campus and why were you the only one feeling enough pity for them to actually come to their lame ass parties? 

“But then we won’t get to see her reaction!” Soonyoung protested, but you groaned and shook your head at him.

“Okay, and? I’m pretty positive she’ll call him back once she sees the thirty missed calls, Soon.” 

To that, none of them had a response. Soonyoung exchanged looks with Wonwoo and Seokmin, and finally decided to give in. Sighing in relief, you relaxed against the couch behind you, watching Wonwoo spin the bottle this time. It spun for a good thirteen seconds before it stopped - pointing at Seokmin. He, as confident as always, with a huge grin on his face said: “Dare!”

Maybe you should have seen it coming. The round had been going on for way too long for no one to be dared to kiss you - the only girl at this joke of a party. The thing was, Seokmin wasn’t ugly. More so the opposite. He could have been a campus heartthrob if only he hadn’t decided to join this fraternity. SVT was a sad example of how frats can become unpopular when they get led by the wrong people. And while Seungcheol, the leader since this semester, tried his very best to get their reputation up - it hadn’t worked just yet. So, yeah, Seokmin was handsome and buff and hot and all that. But he was Seokmin. He was silly and goofy and laughed a little too loud and always tried to cheer everyone up even when no one wanted him to. Thinking about it now, it did sound kind of nice of him. Still. Did you want to kiss him? Not really.

“I dare you to kiss Y/N! But not just a peck, like full on kiss kiss her!” Wonwoo grinned and your mouth dropped open.

“What the fuck is kiss kiss supposed to mean?!” You asked, and Wonwoo shrugged

“You’ll figure it out!”

Taking a deep breath, trying your hardest not to once again yell at the man with the round glasses on top of his nose, you finally looked at Seokmin, who’s eyes seemed to be just as wide as humanly possible. 

“D-Do you mind?” He stuttered out and because you weren’t a buzz kill, you shook your head and put your cup down, uncrossing your leg and instead crouching over to him. 

“Just kiss me and shut up,” you mumbled and Seokmin visibly swallowed, his eyes gazing from your eyes to your lips and then, finally, he leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours. 

At first, you were confused. Because why the hell did his lips feel so soft? Never in your two years of knowing this man had you seen him use chapstick. Seokmin kissed the way he smiled. Warm. And sweet. And somehow better than anyone you had ever kissed. Almost automatically, your eyes fell shut and your hands landed on his cheeks as you slowly sat up, taking him with you. He kissed you deeper then, his hands on the small of your back and when he parted your lips with his own and let his tongue slide into your heat, you almost felt like moaning. It wasn’t necessarily because you were turned on but because he was just so good at this. 

“Okay, okay! Damn, get a room!” Chan had thrown his empty solo cup at your head and you had, with a strange sense of sadness in your heart, separated from Seokmin. Or at least your lips separated because your hands were still on his cheeks and his were still on your back. For a few seconds you just stared at each other, blinking away and then you were back on your place on the floor, head buzzing and heart thumping. 

What had just happened? Seokmin’s taste still lingered on your lips, on your tongue. It left you breathless, left your stomach doing flips over and over again and your brain yelling at you to kiss him again because, fuck, how long had it been since you’ve kissed someone and liked it? While the game continued, Seokmin now asking Chan a question after the youngest hast picker Truth over Dare. You allowed your eyes to flicker to Seokmin, seeing the red on his cheek and the way his lips were wet and- 

“Seokmin, I think you wanted to show me something in your room earlier.” 

The words left your mouth before your brain caught up. Chan, who had been in the middle of answering the question you hadn’t even heard, and everyone else in the circle, stared at you. God, you hoped Seokmin got the hint. If he didn’t, this could end up extremely awkward.

Seokmin was also looking at you, eyes back to being big and round and his mouth was hanging open slightly as he seemed to wreck his brain as to when he had said that. But when he saw the look in your eyes, saw the silent pleads, it clicked. His cheeks got even redder.

“O-Oh, yes! Yes, I did. Uhh, I think now is as good as ever to show you! S-sorry guys!”

It was safe to say none of the guys were mad once they caught on what was actually happening (it took them a good five minutes to count one and one together).

You were on top of Seokmin, straddling him, and your arms were locked around his neck while his rested on your back, his lips moving against yours so perfectly it felt like they were two puzzzle pieces designed to fit together. Kissing him was like tasting cotton candy for the first time, like going for a swim on an especially hot summer day. It felt right in all the ways a kiss could. You didn’t even care about the lack of him trying to touch you anywhere else than your back, just happy to feel his lips on yours and to have his tongue occasionally bump against yours. This wasn’t about initiating sex, no, this was something more and still less. Your fingers stroked the back of his head, felt the soft locks and when he giggled against your lips you almost melted. 

“I’m ticklish”, he explained then, the red back on his cheeks and you just nodded, kissing him again, hands moving to his face.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled, pressing your lips together. He wrapped his arms around you fully now, hands on your shoulder, and you felt the safest you ever had in anyone’s arms. This was crazy. This was Seokmin. He wasn’t supposed to make you feel this way. You shoved the thought away. It didn’t matter that he was in a bitchless fraternity. From now on you could be his bitch. 

Suddenly, you felt hin smile against your lips and you parted from him even though you didn’t actually want to.

“What’s so funny?” You asked, kissing his cheek. Seokmin chuckled.

“I kind of wanted to kiss you since freshman year.”

“For real?!” Your eyes widened. He nodded.

“Yeah. But when I entered SVT I kind of figured it probably wouldn’t happen.”

“Guess you figured wrong.” The smile on your lips was sincere and you let your hands rest on the sides of his face again. Seokmin smiled warmly, just like he always did.

“I guess so.”

And then he kissed you again, and whenever he stopped to giggle because you tickled him, you could feel yourself fall harder and harder into a Seokmin shaped hole you kind of felt like you couldn’t ever escape again. 

#svthub #dk fanfiction #dk x reader #seokmin x reader #seokmin fanfiction #svt au #dk au #dk imagine #svt imagine #dokyeom x reader #svt x reader #seventeen x reader #lee seokmin x reader #lee dokyeom x reader

[justallihere]

Firstly, thank you so much for writing sitq- I found it just as I finished reading IF and has very much kept me going! If you ever write any original fic and get published, I’d be very interested in reading as your narrative style is lovely.

Question I’m not sure I’ve not seen asked yet -has poor Xaden spend the week learning to do Violet’s hair while her shoulder is bad, and if yes what is Violet’s reaction going to be to this while she’s so unspeakably furious?

Additionally- can Brennan even heal her shoulder for her, or does that give Basgiath the information that they have a healer that they may want to keep quiet?

Thank you so much!! 🩷🩷

Honestly I started writing a tiny little drabble of Xaden asking Sloane to teach him to braid hair after @skyfallscotland asked but I didn’t love it and I probably won’t bother to flesh it out more, so you can find what I did write below the cut. As for Violet’s reaction—idk if it’s even a thing that will make it in, but it wouldn’t come up for a long time. Xaden wouldn’t just be like “I learned this for you this week!” so by the time she figured it out she wouldn’t be mad at him anymore

Re: Brennan it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Menders are rare but it’s not impossible that Tyrrendor would’ve had at least one or two since they started training their own riders. No one would immediately assume that it’s Brennan who would’ve healed her

“Sloane.”

“Yes, your majesty?”

Xaden gave her a dry look, but her face didn’t change. She only used the title sarcastically—otherwise she called him Xaden or, in recent weeks, when he particularly annoyed her, Violet’s husband. It seemed everyone in his life liked his wife better than him now. “I need your help.”

“I don’t like the sound of that.” She crossed her arms and gave him a searching look. “What’d you do? And why are you asking me?”

“You know how to braid hair.”

Understanding lit up her eyes, but she said, “I like this even less now.”

“Look.” He tucked his hands in his pockets and returned her unwavering stare. “Violet doesn’t always feel like doing her own hair. I’m trying to learn how in case she needs help. Are you willing or not?”

For a long moment, Sloane didn’t move. Finally, she said, “Fine. But only for Violet,” she added firmly. She turned away. “We’ll need more than just me for this.”

***

“That’s, uh. . . not quite right.”

“She means you’re fucking it up horrifically,” Sloane translated for Tessa. The dark-haired young cadet stood to Xaden’s right—Sloane sat on the table in front of them with her legs crossed, their model for the day as Tessa tried to talk Xaden through the process of creating the coronet braid Violet preferred. Tessa’s own hair was in two braids on either side of her head, twisted together at the nape of her neck into a neat bun. She had more variety in her hairstyles than Violet did, and certainly more than Sloane, who rarely bothered with more than a simple bun, or a braid for flying.

“You have to pull it tighter than that,” Tessa said. “Like—“ She stopped, stared at the mess of tangles that Sloane’s hair had become, and reached for the brush at her hip. “Just start over,” she said finally. A little sigh was the only sign of her disappointment. Earning any sign of annoyance or displeasure from Tessa was a feat in and of itself, and a good indication that this was going even worse than Xaden had thought it would.

He started over.

#storm in the quiet #snippet

[licorice-tea]

Everything In Between

Pairing: Penguin x reader

Content: Strawhat!reader, mentions of alcohol, fluff, pining, secret crushes teehee, kissing🤭

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: ah yes, my favorite barely mentioned or seen side character🩷 also i know he’s not a main character or anything but like pls give this fic a chance anyway🤞🏽idk guys he’s just so fine to me, something about characters with hidden faces or masks… anyway halfway through writing i realized this reminds me a lot of the song “In Between” by Gracie Abrams (which is unreleased i think?) and so that’s where the title is from😇 enjoy! <3

Edited 2/11/24

As a Straw Hat Pirate, you’re happy to enjoy the many blessings that come with having a lax and fun-loving captain. You and your crew often have parties often for no reason in particular, and when there is one; the celebrations are even grander. It definitely wasn’t part of your original “10 year plan”, but you couldn’t be happier that you wound up on the crew.

Beyond frequent opportunities for food, music, and dancing; getting to meet people from all around the world is a close second in terms of your favorite part of being a pirate. You’ve been to more islands than you could count at this point, and flirted with met people from all walks of life. Royalty, civilians, government officials, other pirates… God, did you love the pirates.

The Heart Pirates were probably your favorite of all- outside of your own crew. Even before Luffy created an alliance with them, and you met them in passing on Saobody, you thought they were just great. So organized in their matching jumpsuits and everything- how neat! And the captain, Law, is a good looking guy, but he’s not the one who made you so giddy over simple glances that you would giggle and kick your feet in your room after being with him. No, that only happened when you were formally introduced to one of his subordinates- Penguin. You didn’t even really know the guy, but you were bored at a party one night and looking to have some fun. You ended the night with more feeling than you’d bargained for though; all because he came up and asked if you knew the difference between a Straw Hat and a Heart as a joke.

You cross your arms and tilt your head, intrigued, “No, what?”

“One’s a hat, and the other is a vital organ.” he says with a grin, red solo cup in hand. You can’t even see his eyes as he leans in, waiting for your reaction.

After a brief silence (which comes from you thinking, “this guy is seriously corny. And hot,”) you give him one in full; laughing like it’s the funniest thing you’ve ever heard.

“Oh! You… You liked it!” he chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

Your laugh is bright and clear to him despite the loud party atmosphere which you’re standing just a few paces away from. He’s mesmerized; and it could just be the party-high talking, but Penguin thinks he’d do just about anything to make you laugh like that again. Because, little do you know, he’s always sort of admired you from afar.

As you come down from your fit of laughter, you ask if he has anymore jokes like that one. He shakes his head “no” with a bashful smile.

“Aww, that’s too bad.” You touch his arm as you continue, “What’s your name, funny guy?”

The simple touch causes his confidence to skyrocket, and he takes a small step toward you. “I’m Penguin,” he grins, “ and you’re y/n, right?”

You nod, “It’s nice to meet you, Penguin.”

“Soooo, you think I’m funny?”

“Mhm, your partner doesn’t tell you that?”

“Nope, no partners here. None at all, not with me.”

Another giggle slips past your lips, “Good, I’d hate to get you in trouble.”

His voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, “Why would we get in trouble?”

“Well, we’re flirting, aren’t we? Or I’m trying to flirt with you, at least.”

Penguin feels faint. How lucky was he; not only to have a pretty person like you so blatantly flirting with him, but to have you flirting with him. The object of a long distance, mostly delusion fueled affection he’d harbored for… Well, however long it’s been since he first saw you in Sabaody. He doesn’t even want to finish off his drink- and it’s only his first of the night! But if he does, he might not remember this moment.

He’s so caught up in the thought of you that’s he’s simply nodding at your words, “Something something… dance… music…” Your lips are so pretty, and your voice might be the most melodic thing to ever grace his ears- besides your laugh, of course. And your hands are so damn soft- which is unexpected for a pirate, but most fitting for someone of your beauty.

Wait, since when had you taken his hand? And led him away from the railing? …What had he agreed to go again?

Well, who knows, and who cares! He’d gladly let you lead him to your cabin right now, if that’s what’s happening, and once the door was closed he’d be more than willing to-

“Penguin? You ok?”

His cheeks flush when you look back at him “Yeah! I’m good, great even-“

You turn fully so you’re walking backwards, and take his other hand so both are interlocked. “Not having second thoughts, are you?”

Penguin realizes you’re standing closer to the source of the music (the skeleton man… what was his name?) and at the center of the deck. “No, no of course not…”

“Mkay,” you smile, putting one of his hands onto your waist and resting your now free hand on his shoulder.

“Ohhh, right: dancing.”

Penguin tries his best, really, but you find that he’s a mediocre dance partner. He steps on your feet multiple times over the course of just 2 songs, probably because his eyes stay trained on you rather than observing and following your movements. You call it quits on the 3rd song and tell him you’re going to get a drink.

“So much for having fun with a cute guy tonight.” you mutter to yourself under your breath before taking a sip of your drink. He was so zoned out, it’s like he wasn’t even interested all of a sudden. Major turn off… Scratch that, a major disappointment, considering you were still very much on.

That’s when Penguin finds you at the drink table, and pours himself some sort of liquor before he steps closer to talk to you. “So much for not drinking tonight, but I’m gonna need it.” he thinks to himself. He steps closer and waves at you.

“Hey y/n, so I uh…. I kind of lied. I don’t really know how to dance- not like you do, at least.”

You smile and wave off his concerns, “It’s fine, I had fun anyway.”

“Ok, good, good…”

He’s biting his lip, and even though you can’t see his eyebrows, you imagine them pinched together nervously. “What’s wrong?”

Penguin sighs dramatically and sets down his cup, “I’m not a liar, usually, I swear. I just wanted to impress you, you know?” This makes you laugh, though you try to reel it in for his sake. But damnit, it’s more than enough to ease his nerves and loosen his tongue. “I have a crush on you! And I think you’re-“

“Penguin.”

“…Yes?”

“You don’t have to comfort me, it’s really fine. We just talked for a little bit, I’m not hurt or anything…” you laugh.

“No I-“ he exhales, “y/n, I’ve liked you since I met you.”

“…We’ve met before?”

“Yeah, on Sabaody Archipelago.”

“…”

He waves his hands in front of his face, as if to reassure you that you’re not forgetting some vital piece of information. “We didn’t introduce ourselves or anything, but… I saw you. Every time after that, I tried to talk to you, but it never worked out. I guess tonight I got lucky though, right?

“Uh huh…” You don’t even really know what to say to that. So he’d admired you al this time… and you didn’t even know.

“Sorry, was that too much? I don’t want to weird you o-“

And since you don’t have the words, you settle on actions instead. With swift movements, you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him in for a quick, but gentle kiss. You feel his hat being tipped back from the angle, so you hold the back of his head to prevent it from falling. This leads Penguin to deepen the kiss, his tongue darting out to lick at your bottom lip. With a gasp, your lips part, and it’s all he needs keep exploring your mouth and savoring the way it fits with his. You hum, at first because you’re enjoying it, then because you feel like you actually shouldn’t be doing this. Either way it creates a pleasant vibration against his lips, and he groans. Having only meant for it to be a small peck, and with the resurgence of the feeling that you’re doing something scandalous, you push him away.

Still breathing heavily, you apologize profusely. “I don’t even know why I did that, I’m sorry.”

Penguin is also panting after the heated kiss you share, but he stops you. “No, no don’t apologize!” He holds your face in both hands and kisses you again, though much more forcefully than you had.

When he pulls away to gauge your reaction, your expression turns from momentarily stunned to genuinely happy. You laugh. God, why do you have to always laugh and look so perfect around him? It’s killing him inside.

“Was that good orrr…?” This only makes your giggles louder, and you try to look away so you can quiet yourself, but he keeps your face turned towards his.

“M-mhm, I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you-“

“Stop saying sorry!” Penguin sighs into your mouth as he kisses you once more, albeit softer this time and long enough for you to put your arms around his neck.

When you pull away, he grins while still mere inches away from your face. “So you liked it then?”

You shake your head with an equally bright smile. “I like you.”

#one piece x reader #one piece x you #fanfic #one piece #x reader #penguin one piece #penguin x reader #penguin op #op penguin #fluff #pining

[kiitsunekuro]

In the Neon Lights | One

Bakugou Katsuki x Exotic Dancer!female reader

WARNINGS: alcohol use, drug mention, mention of past abusive relationship, injury (no gore), some angst, fluff, smut, dom bakugou, sub reader, oral (both receiving), fingering, spanking, daddy kink, unprotected sex, breeding kink, degradation, praise. Bakugou prolly says some variation of ‘fuck’ too much. Idk it’s my first time writing for him.

Summary: Bakugou meets a pretty exotic dancer(reader) during Izuku’s bachelor party, but you’re hard to get to know.

Roughly 14.3k words. Quickly proofread.

No beta. We ball. I’m tired of looking at this so I’m posting it before I start to hate it.

18+ ONLY. NSFW. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

“Don’t see why I have to go.” Bakugou growled, crossing thick arms over his chest, glaring at his red haired friend who sat across from him on the couch in the break room of their agency.

“C’mon, man. You don’t even have to stay the entire night.”

“No, fuckin’ hate clubs.”

“It’s for your best friend's bachelor party,” Kirishima protested, then sighed, rubbing his eyes with his palms. “Look, one hour, and I’ll cover your patrol for you anytime you need me to, no questions asked,” He thought for a moment, before holding up two fingers, “Twice.” He crossed a finger over his heart and smiled as Bakugou growled his reluctance between gritted teeth, relenting.

“I’m not getting him any fuckin’ gifts.”

“You don’t need to-“ but his sentence was cut off as Bakugou stalked out of the room and slammed the door behind him. ‘Small victories’, Kirishima told himself. ‘Small victories…’

Bakugou groaned, smashing his face against his palms, rubbing his temples roughly. Sure, he wanted to support Deku on his day, it had been a long time coming, but the bachelor party everyone had planned to throw for him sounded ‘fuckin’ stupid’, in his own words. The whole idea of taking someone to a strip club for a ‘last night of freedom’ rubbed him the wrong way to begin with, add to that his disdain for the general club environment and it wasn’t getting any better. He was gonna have to get drunk to make it bearable, he decided. Maybe he’d even show up a few drinks in.

An hour at most, and then he’d be out.

———-

The club was a designated spot for pro heroes to attend without drawing media attention- all the staff and dancers had been vetted and were under strict NDA’s, so that was a small weight off of his shoulders. His already volatile public image didn’t need anymore controversy. Especially not after the incident with the reporter two weeks ago that had ended with dozens of articles with titles like “BAKUGOU: HERO OR MENACE?”

Bakugou hadn’t even done anything wrong, in fact he had saved the guys’ life. But that didn’t sell as many papers or draw in as many clicks.

It was a higher end club, catering to the wealthier crowd who wanted a more luxurious experience and prided themselves on their ability to provide top-notch service. Nobody clamored for his attention, nobody was taking photos or asking for his autograph.

Still, as he shouldered his way inside, already a little tipsy, he squinted his eyes against the bright strobing lights and obnoxiously loud music and sat down off to the side of his friends, turning to the bartender.

“Whiskey, neat.” He practically yelled over the din of the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Denki drunkenly hanging around an attractive brunette talking too loudly. Deku seemed to be politely but awkwardly enjoying himself, as he pried a girl's hand away from his thigh as she tried to whisper something into his ear that caused a blush to color his cheeks, and he laughed nervously.

Bakugou smirked to himself, he fuckin’ knew this was a bad idea.

“What kind?” The bartender interrupted his thoughts, pulling his attention back to her.

“Whatever, top shelf.” Bakugou muttered dismissively. She turned to grab a bottle of expensive looking liquor, and he swiftly caught her wrist in his hand. “Make it a double.” She nodded, pulling out of his grasp. Groaning, he dropped his head into his hands and pulled several large bills from his pocket to tip her- his nervousness felt out of character, out of his element, and he wasn’t used to this. He cursed himself for grabbing her, he was pretty sure that was frowned upon.

The hand of a dancer traced along his shoulders, she had seen him open his wallet, thick with money, and closed in on him like a predator.

“Hey baby,” she cooed, leaning against him with her breasts pressed firmly against his back. “How are you tonight?” Her painted lips curled into an inauthentic smile that made his skin crawl.

The bartender set his drink down in front of him, and he quickly pressed several bills into her palm, muttering some kind of apology and her furrowed brows softened a bit into a smile before she motioned to the girl beside him.

“Did you want to buy a drink for Angel?”

He gave an exasperated sigh as he pulled another bill from his wallet to hand to the dancer, standing up and turning his back to her he stalked over to his friends with his whiskey gripped tightly in his hand.

He seated himself beside Denki who was now tipping the same girl he’d been talking to as she danced, and drank heavily from his glass.

The DJ began to call the next dancer to the stage, voice booming obnoxiously over the speakers. The girl that had just finished performing grabbed her bra as the floormen used what looked like some kind of long squeegee to sweep the money from the stage and into buckets.

“Having any fun yet, Bakugou?” Denki practically yelled over the noise, leaning close to him and swaying drunkenly. Bakugou could smell the liquor emanating off his breath.

“Fuck no. Seems like Deku loves it, you really know ‘im.” He rolled his eyes, sipping his drink and Kaminari glanced over at a very uncomfortable looking Midoriya. Bakugou was about to add something snarky when out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of the next dancer walking along the stage.

You looked stunning in the outfit that you’d chosen for the night, baby blue with gold lace trims and diamond jewelry glittering around your neck and wrists, flashing under the lights. For a moment, everything else faded into the background, the way he’d only seen in bad movies he’d been forced to watch.

You gave him a sweet smile as you started your set, heavily aware of his crimson gaze that settled onto you as you danced. Usually that wouldn’t make you nervous, but this time it did, weighing heavily on your psyche.

His attention toward you didn’t go unnoticed by Denki, who raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously as he leaned forward on the stage, several bills gripped in his hand. Bakugou’s eyes raked across your frame, hypnotized by the way your hips swayed as you walked toward the two of them and he felt his mouth go completely dry. His cock twitched in his pants watching you lean over, breasts still caged by your bra, soft and alluring. Denki said something to you and he narrowed his eyes, watching him hand you a wad of cash and you giggled, a perfect, gentle sound that made his heart jump a little. You made eye contact for a moment as you nod at something the yellow haired man is telling you before he sits back down, leaning back into the chair with a drunken smirk.

“What did you do?” Bakugou growls, tightening his grip on the crystal in his hand.

Denki shrugged, holding his hands up by his head.

“I’unno what yer talkin’ about, Bakubro.”

“What the fuck d-“ he can’t even finish his sentence before the same brunette from earlier walked up behind Denki and grabbed his hand, helping him to his feet. He turned for a moment to shrug sheepishly at Bakugou before being led behind a curtained room, leaving Bakugou to fume as he finished the rest of his whiskey and flagged a waitress down to ask for more.

She took the orders for the rest of the group, his attention now returning to you, watching as you danced, elegant and sensual. The movements of your body drew him in, almost making his mouth water. Your gaze settled on him as the second song began, and you slowly slipped the straps of your bra off your shoulders and he felt the heat in his cheeks begin to grow unbearable as he looked away.

“Don’t just stare, Bakugou!” Kiri called out “Give the girl her money.” He laughed as he tossed a handful of bills onto the stage. Bakugou swallowed thickly and leaned forward to set the money on the stage in a small stack, as you blew him a soft kiss and mouthed a ‘thank you’ at him, moving your hand from your lips and out in sign language for the phrase. You reached behind your back to unclasp your bra and Bakugou revelled in the way your tits fell and bounced without the support, willing his cock not to harden as he shut his eyes and breathed deeply.

When he opened them again, the waitress was back, handing everyone their drinks, a sparkler lit in a bucket of ice next to a champagne bottle as she set it down next to the bachelor, Deku. Bakugou lifted his glass in a half-hearted cheers for his friend before returning it to his lips. He nearly spit it out when he noticed that you’d seated yourself next to him and he choked, coughing and sputtering into his arm.

Your eyes flew open in mild surprise and genuine concern, moving your hand to his back,

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to surprise you,” You laughed softly and it caused his stomach to twist in knots, shaking his head, shrugging as he wiped his face with a beverage napkin.

“I’m fine.” He snapped, a little more rudely than he intended and finished his drink in one large swallow.

You nod, brows still knit together as you watched him pensively.

“Um, your friend, Denki?” You try, a bit apprehensive and he rolled his eyes.

“He didn’t say anythin’ stupid did he?” His nose scrunched slightly as he studied you through narrowed eyes, alcohol making its way quickly through his system. You smiled, shaking your head and it made his face burn hotter, certain his face must be flushed an obscene shade of pink between how flustered you made him and the alcohol raging through his veins.

“Ah, no. He bought you a few dances with me in the back room.” You motioned toward the curtains.

His stomach dropped and his hand gripped the arm of the chair he’s sitting in tightly.

“Fuckin’ bastard.” He growls, low enough he’s sure you can’t hear.

“Did you want to go now?” You tilt your head slightly, looking up at him with wide, doe eyes, offering him your jewelled hand.

‘Fuck it,’ he thinks, standing and gripping your hand in his, marvelling at how much smaller and softer it feels against his. He watched your ass as you walked slightly ahead of him, leading him to the designated lap dance area and pushed aside the blue velvet curtain to reveal a plush couch and ornate side table. You motioned for him to have a seat, and he fell back into it rather unceremoniously.

His eyes glued to your frame, taking in your features in the low lights and how they illuminated the high points of your nose, cheekbones, brow bone. He almost wished he could paint, just so that he could have this image of you forever, a vision in lights of neon pink and blue.

You approached him slowly, sliding onto his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands found their home on your waist, and he caught the scent of your perfumed hair, feeling dizzyingly high, heightening his drunken euphoria.

“You’re s’beautiful,” his speech slurred a little as he pushed some hair away from your face and you smiled, cupping his face gently with one hand.

“You’re pretty handsome yourself.” You murmur against his ear, adjusting your position so that you’re straddling him. He cleared his throat, hyper aware of the bulge in his pants as your ass brushes against his clothed thighs and your cleavage came tauntingly close to his face. It’s all he can do to hold himself back, fingers digging into the plush of your hips as his head empties of the blood rushing to his groin.

Slowly you roll your hips against him in time to the music, the intensity of your eye contact driving him into a frenzy.

“What’s your name…? I’on’t think I got it.” He seems almost shy and it endears him to you, to see a man so strong and powerful practically worshipping at your feet.

“Aria,” You tell him your stage name instead of your real one, and he narrows his eyes, knowing full well it isn’t real- but he doesn't press you for it.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeats, unable in his drunken state to stop himself from praising you. It wasn’t just your physical beauty he was drawn to, or your attentive, sweet demeanor. There was a sharp intelligence to you, something with your eyes- that intrigued him and made him want to pry you open and understand you, to know you better.

You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his hand up to your breast with the other, moving it against you, prompting him to massage it and he groaned.

“Fuck, I can’t do this.” He throws his head back and it hits the wall with a dull thunk and you jump, cradling his head for a moment,

“You alright?”

“Yeah, s’fine, don’t worry. I gotta- I gotta go.” He helps you off of him but pauses for a moment, reaching for a napkin and hastily scribbling his number down and handing it to you, coupled with a large tip, without looking you in the eye. “I don’ like places like this,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck, “That’s f’you though, if you- y’get it,” He grumbled and tossed the curtain aside with a bit too much strength as the fabric billowed around you. “An’ don’ fuckin’ sell it!” he called angrily over his shoulder, which is hunched up as he waved a dismissive goodbye to his friends.

You stand, watching him go, still frozen in place as you held the napkin and the tip in your hand before you can shake the interaction off. It wasn’t unusual at all to get numbers from clients- hell, you’d had people full on propose to you a couple times, but something about this interaction felt different in a way you weren’t entirely sure how to describe. You shake the thoughts from your mind and crumple up the napkin before tossing it in the trash and shoving the bills into your bag.

You doubted you could make someone like Dynamite into a regular, especially with how eager he had seemed to get out of the club just now. And you didn’t date clients, especially not pro-hero clients. That was one lesson you had learned the hard way that you weren’t eager to repeat.

You heard Denki and Kirishima calling you as you made your way to the bar for some water and turned to smile at them, waving.

“He wasn’t awful was he?” Kiri pouts, looking at you with sweet almost puppy dog like eyes, swimming from the alcohol.

“Oh, not at all.” You dismiss their concern with a wave of your hand, “He just seemed a little drunk and overwhelmed.” You laughed a little and handed the bartender a few dollars for your water.

“Katsuki? Overwhelmed?” Denki raised a brow in confusion. “Guess he must like ya,”

“You got some kind of aphrodisiac quirk?” Kirishima jokes, laughing and thanking you for taking the time to spend with them. You assured them it was a great time before they’re being dragged away by the other dancers, shooting you dirty, possessive glances.

For the first time since you’d started this job, you feel your stomach twisting in nervous knots, thinking of the handsome man you’d just had in the back room. For a moment, you close your eyes, breathe deeply, and bury the feeling before turning to meet your next client.

————-

Bakugou awoke the next morning with a blistering headache, groaning loudly at the light that streamed in through the window and spilled onto his bed, sheets tousled carelessly.

“Fuck,” he grunted, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. He turned one eye to his phone, lighting up on his nightstand, rubbing sleep from the other. Snatching the phone from its resting place, he quickly unlocked it and scanned the numerous messages that his friends had sent him through the course of the night after he had left.

Shittyhair: dude, you left out of nowhere, everything good?

Kaminari: broooo i paid for more songs than that, you owe me

Kaminari: and you should probably apologize bro, she looked real confused

Oh god.

He struggled to piece the night together, blurry memories of lights and dancers and alcohol. Then he recalled that he had met you, and he was pretty sure he had unceremoniously shoved his number at you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, louder this time as his head fell. “No more fuckin’ clubs.” He promised himself, no matter whose bachelor party it was.

And another thing that was for sure, was that he would never have one himself.

Still, for some reason he couldn’t shake the memory of you as he undressed for the shower. The ghost of your touch still lingering on his unwashed skin, the residual scent of your perfume on his clothes from the night before. He felt his cock twitch slightly at the memory of your legs spread over his lap, and his desire to lean down and run his tongue across your skin and taste you. He palms himself through his boxers for a moment, wondering what you’d feel like under him.

Shaking himself aggressively he turned the water on, eager to wash the events of the previous night from his mind.

How stupid could he be? Giving a random dancer his number like that? He figured he’d have to change his number, the same way Denki was onto his fourth one for the year as he had made a. habit of drunkenly giving his number out to women at bars and clubs. Jesus christ, he didn’t want the embarrassment of telling his agent why he’d have to change his number. Maybe he’d get lucky though, and you wouldn’t try to sell his number or maybe he’d written it down incorrectly- he was pretty drunk.

Maybe, though, you would text him. The thought made something stir deep in his chest as he scrubbed himself with body wash, wet hair sticking to his forehead in uneven spikes.

He would apologize to you though, he decided, and maybe try to mitigate any damage he had caused in the process. After he got off work, he would stop by the club to see if you were there again tonight if you still hadn’t texted him by then.

————

The end of the work day can’t come soon enough as he’s embroiled with petty crime, even getting bitten once by some low level villain with a poison quirk. It was more of an irritating itch than anything debilitating.

He wraps a bandage around it carefully, making eye contact with Kirishima as he rounds the corner to get ready for his own patrol.

“Bakugou!” He claps a hand against his back, “How ya feelin’?” He ignores the question,

“Do you know if uh, I could call that club to see if someone is workin’?” There’s a pained expression on his face. Kiri scratches his head briefly.

“Sounds like more of a question for Kaminari,” he laughs half-heartedly, “but I think generally, no? Crazy exes, stalkers and the like,” he adds as he catches a glimpse of the rising irritation in his friends eyes.

Bakugou feels his stomach lurch at the notion of stalkers. Did that happen often? He cursed under his breath and hoped you wouldn’t put him in the same category.

“Is this about that girl last night? Aria?”

“None of your business, shitty hair,” He growls, pulling his keys from his pocket and shoving past him.

“It’s fine dude, she was pretty, there’s no judgement-“

“It’s not fuckin’ like that,” he rounds on his friend, eyes narrowed in annoyance. Kirishima holds his hands up in front of himself,

“Alright, alright,” Bakugou relaxes and turns to leave again.

“Don’t mention this to anyone.” He grumbles, leaving the room with a slam of the door.

Bakugou’s still fuming as he gets into the driver's seat of his car and begins the twenty or so minute drive to the club. It looks strange in the dying light of the day, before all the neon lights had been turned on. It seemed out of place like this, as if it should only exist after the sun had gone down.

Shouldering his way through the doors, a girl at the front greets him with a smile.

“Good evening, Bakugou.” Of course she knew his name.

“I’m just here to see someone for a sec,” he glances around nervously, peering into the main room to see if you’re there. “Is Aria working?”

“Um, I don’t think so,” She scans the sign-in sheet at her podium. “It doesn’t look like it. She usually doesn’t work until Wednesday or Thursday,” He quirks an eyebrow at her, “She has school, I think? But she’s almost always here on Thursday.” She smiles up at him and he sighs, thanking her as he walks out of the door.

It was still only Sunday, and the anxiety eating away at his stomach would persist until then. He’d come on Wednesday, on the off chance you’d be back.

To his surprise (and though he wouldn’t admit it, his delight) you were in fact there when he returned late Wednesday night, still smelling like smoke and fire, walking briskly through the crowd.

You jump a little when you see him, heart pounding in your chest, taking you by surprise before youre able to pull yourself together for a smile,

“Bakugou!” You wave, “It’s nice to see you again.”

He wordlessly grabs your wrist and pulls you off to a quiet corner and sits at a table, pushing a chair out with his foot for you to join him.

“What’d you do with my number?”

No beating around the bush here.

“Oh, I uh, I threw it away. You were pretty drunk and I try to be respectful of people’s boundaries, yannow it’s just-“

“What?” His heart aches and his stomach drops and he’s not sure why. “Ya didn’… sell it or anythin’?” You shake your head. He scratches the back of his head, looking up at the ceiling, you awkwardly pick at your nails in the silence.

“It is nice to see you again, though,” You admit, and a warmth spreads through his chest. “Didn’t think I’d see you again, you left in such a hurry.”

“Ya didn’t text me.” He reminds you.

“You were drunk.”

“I’m not now.” You blush despite yourself.

“I don’t sleep with clients.”

“I didn’t say anythin’ about fuckin’.” His eyes narrow, vermillion eyes flickering like flames beneath the lights.

“I don’t… date clients. Or pro-heroes.” You add quickly.

He drums his fingers on the table top, eyeing you curiously. You suddenly seemed nervous and he didn’t want to pressure you into anything.

“Bad experience?”

“Something like that.” You play with a strand of your hair between your fingers.

“What if,” he breathes heavily through his nostrils and leans forward on his elbows, “Can I come see you here, then?”

“That’s fine.”

“Could you text me when you’re working? I don’t have all the free time in the world.” You laugh a little, relaxing and nod, giving him your number.

“Don’t spam me, and don’t get mad at me if I’m not always available,” you poke him in the chest playfully, “I’m pretty busy.”

“Door girl said you’re in school, hah?” He pushes your hand down, but rests it in his lap beneath his larger palm.

“Mhm.” You nod, feeling your mouth go dry at the subtle intimacy of his touch. “I’m a biomed major, so it can get intense sometimes.”

“D’ya ever get to relax?”

“Do you?”

He laughs, a rough and low sound that has your stomach doing flips.

“Fair enough, princess.” The pet name has your thighs clenching slightly, and you worry that your hand is shaking under his.

If he could give you time, provide a safe net for you to relax and study without working in this place, he would in a heartbeat.

————

Bakugou: workin tonight?

you: I am! :) I’ll be in by 8pm.

Bakugou: I’ll be there.

Bakugou: got something for ya

You: oh?

Bakugou: you’ll see when i get there

You: I can’t wait! <3

You set your phone down with a shaky breath as you got ready for the night. You never got nervous to see anyone at work, but even the sight of his name on your phone had your body trembling, and you wondered if this was sustainable.

It wasn’t good for you to keep a regular you might have feelings for, it complicated things and kept you from focusing in your day to day life.

For now, you’d let things continue to play out.

At work, you pulled off your street clothes and got ready for the night, lacing up thigh high boots with heels that made you a good seven inches taller. They were some of your favourites as they made pole tricks a bit easier, and you’d been working on a few new ones.

A couple other girls walked in, whispering behind you and shooting you some dirty looks.

Most of the girls were nice, but a few had developed some resentment toward you since you seemed to have the number four pro-hero wrapped around your finger. It didn’t bother you, usually. It was easy enough to brush off and there were plenty of other heroes with plenty of money that would come to spend their money on them.

Signing in at the front desk, you made your way to the bar.

“Could I get my shift drink, please?” You asked, hoping it would quell the nervousness in your chest. “Tequila soda?”

“Sure thing, sweetie.” She smiled as she poured you a hefty amount of liquor, tipping them well will do that. Bringing in a top ten hero would definitely do that.

You sit at the bar awhile, wincing at the bitter taste of liquor and shudder. Was there any soda in that?

You open your eyes wide to assess your level of intoxication, when you spot the large figure of Bakugou coming through the front door with a medium sized gift bag in hand. You stand up to hug around his neck and he bends down slightly, awkwardly wrapping one arm around your waist. You inhale deeply, drunk on his scent of burnt caramel and vanilla, the tinges of smoke and cinder.

He had to stop himself from kissing you on the cheek and cleared his throat, shoving the gift bag at you and averting his gaze.

“Here.”

You lead him again to the table that’s become your regular spot by now, haphazardly pulling out the box from within the bag. It’s black with a burnt orange ribbon, colors you recognize as being from his pro hero outfit, and you narrow your eyes at him quizzically.

He’s leaned over with his elbows on his knee, bouncing on the ball of his foot, impatiently waiting for you to open it.

Inside the box is a stunning set of lingerie in shades of black and shining rust colored lace, a dark green ribbon threaded through it, leading to a bow tied delicately in the middle. On the panties, the ribbon is on the back. There’s also a set of new heels inside in complementary colors.

“Oh, wow…” You breathe softly.

“D’ya like it?” one side of his nose is scrunched up, gaze half hidden behind spikes of messy blonde hair.

“Oh, I love it.” You ran your fingers along the sheer fabric. “Did you want me to put it on now?”

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He smirks, already imagining how you’d look. “Had it made special for ya.” Your face is burning, and your limbs are shaking as you pull yourself to standing to go and change,

“I’ll be right back,” you promise as you grab the lingerie and shoes before disappearing into the dressing room.

Bakugou sits back, ordering his regular drink and avoiding eye contact with the other dancers vying for his attention.

“Hey handsome,” a pretty red head he hasn’t seen before saunters up to him.

“I’m waitin’ for someone.” He sips his drink without looking at her. Her lips part to say something, but it’s interrupted by the harsh sound of his chair being pushed back over the tile floor as he stands up, awestruck as you walk out of the dressing room, peeking over at him from behind the curtain.

He takes a few long, purposeful strides toward you, pulling you into him, heavy palm on the small of your back.

“Ya look fuckin’ perfect,” his eyes search yours, flashing to your lips and imagining his pressed against their softness, the way the lingerie shapes your breasts into perfect mounds, the bow near your ass begging to be untied. “I wanna fuckin’ ruin you,” he growls against your ear, the heat of his breath sends shivers down your spine.

“Oh…” you can’t stop the soft, breathless moan and he feels himself getting hard, closing his eyes tightly. It was relentless, and pathetic just how often he found himself fucking his fist to the thought of you now, at times unable to wait until he got home, fisting himself in the parking garage across the street.

He desperately wanted to meet you outside of here, to take you somewhere nice and get to know the real you. He wanted to give you everything, but he’d start small. He didn’t know how long it might take, but he had promised himself that he’d find a way through the emotional walls that you had built up, thick and seemingly impenetrable.

“Can I get a dance with you, princess?” He murmurs, lips a hair's breadth from the shell of your ear, you can feel him smirk when goosebumps dimple your flesh.

“Mmm,” You hum, leading him slowly to the back room so that he can watch the way your ass moves as you walk.

In the darkness of the back room, you turn to face him, raking your nails along the outside of his jeans and pressing him back into the couch by his shoulder. You sidle into his lap, and move the pull the straps off your shoulders but he stops you with a quick hand.

“Ya don’t have to do anything,” His crimson gaze is steady on you, fingers brushing lightly against your cheek, “I just wanna be here with you.” He rasps, pulling you so close to him your noses brush against each other. You wrap your arms around his neck and hum contentedly, forgetting yourself and pressing a kiss against his jawline that makes him shudder.

“You’re too good to me, Bakugou,” you whisper against his ear, and he closes his eyes tightly.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me,” he growls, fingers digging into the plush of your thighs. There was a harsh pang in his chest at your insistence on using his last name, desperate to hear you breathlessly moaning ‘Katsuki’, and he swore to himself he would some day.

He revels in the way your fingers trail along his well muscled arm, stopping when they feel the broken skin of a new injury and your face twists into an expression of concern.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, s’fine,” He smirks, “I’m one of the best, princess.” Your smile is bittersweet.

“I know.” Your fingers tangle themselves in his hair, “I worry about you sometimes, when I watch the news,” He raises an eyebrow.

“Me? I’m the one that should be worried about you, workin’ places like this.” You pull away slightly, tilting your head.

“It’s just a job.”

“Nah, not like that,” he shakes his head, holding your hands in one large palm. “Friend of mine mentioned stalkers, n I’ve met enough unsavory types to know what kinda people are out there.”

You nod, understanding.

“I’ve never had an issue with a stalker or a villain, but I did-“ you stop yourself, catching your words before the alcohol in your system let them go.

He pulls you closer to him by the curve of your hips.

“Y’can’t start somethin’ like that and not finish,” he warns, voice low. You worry your lower lip between your teeth, debating whether or not it would be too much to share. Your general role was to play therapist, entertainer, a momentary fantasy girlfriend. A modern day geisha.

You didn’t want to worry them with your own problems, which often seemed trivial in comparison to many of your clients.

“Hey,” he taps your forehead with a calloused finger, “what’s goin’ on in there, hah?”

You sigh, pressing your face into his neck, breathing lightly.

“It’s nothing, not really a big deal,”

”I’m sure I could handle it, then,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I uh, dated a pro-hero last year.”

“Somethin’ happen to ‘im?” He fidgets uncomfortably beneath you. You shake your head, staring at nothing in particular, anxiety rising in your chest.

“Just wasn’t a great guy.”

“That why you don’t date pro-heroes?” His eyes narrow, assessing your reactions.

“Well, that, and the whole constant worry about whether or not they’ll come home every night.” He says nothing. “Then the whole… job thing. It’s generally frowned upon to date guys from the club.” You add with a half hearted laugh.

“Didn’t stop you before,” he points out.

“Lesson learned,” your expression is solemn, and he sighs, pulling you into him tightly and wished he could let you know that he was different. That he wouldn’t hurt you, and he’d do everything in his power to keep you safe and happy. That he was one of the best fuckin’ pro heroes and he’d always come home to you.

Instead he just holds you against him, memorizing the curves of your body until it’s time for him to go.

You walk with him to the door, sharing one last hug before he squeezes your hand goodbye and leaves.

In the dressing room, you slowly remove your dance shoes with an exhale of relief. Another dancer you know as River rolls her eyes at you, glaring at the lingerie that you’re wearing.

“How’d you do it?” A slight sneer plays on her lips, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the lockers.

“Do what?” Your voice is laced with impatient agitation.

“You just really good at suckin’ dick?” You balk a little at this, mouth agape.

“I don’t fuck clients,” you snap, tossing your shoes into you bag.

“You fucked Shindou.” Her eyes exaggeratedly wide, cocking her head to the side. You hiss something through gritted teeth before averting your gaze and pulling on your street clothes.

“That was different.” You mutter, hints of shame weighing your voice down.

“Sure it was.” She rolls her eyes, standing up straighter. “Look, I don’t care what you do, but you’ve got a lot of girls in here pissed at you.”

“Sounds like a them problem.” You retort dryly.

“We’ll see.” She shrugs before leaving the room, and the rage that had been building in your chest unleashed itself as you slammed your fists down on the counter, breathing heavily. You wipe the tears from your eyes, checking yourself over before throwing your bag over your shoulder and heading home.

———-

The next couple days are busy ones for both you and Bakugou, him with hero work and you with school. He’s accepted the fact that you won’t text him unless it’s related to work, and he has to stop himself from asking you how you’re doing every few hours.

He worries about you when he doesn’t hear from you for a couple days, but it’s always just

Bakugou: working tonight?

You: no, I have some really important tests coming up.

He can’t help but wonder if you actually have a boyfriend that you keep secret from him and if that’s the real reason you won’t meet him outside of the club. Or why you’re opposed to phone calls, or even friendly conversation.

It didn't bother him too much, he liked to think of himself as a good judge of character and he’d seen your organic chemistry books and the massive amounts of anatomy and physiology notes you lug around with you in your bag.

What bothered him more than any of that was the thought that some other hero had beat him to you, and seemingly turned you off of them forever. It drove him almost crazy, wondering just what your type was and what they’d done to you.

If he’d had your actual name maybe he could have done some more snooping and figured it out, but he didn’t even have that. Tonight though, he had been pressured into going out to a quiet bar with his friends- he’d been spending more and more time away from them for reasons he kept to himself.

But tonight, at the bar, after a few beers he leans over to Kirishima, a thoughtful expression etched on his face.

“Hey, shittyhair,” he taps him lightly on the back of the head. “How well d’you know Aria? Said she dated a pro hero awhile ago,”

“Oh, is that where you’ve been?” He wore a shit eating grin on his face, “be careful with those girls, they’re masters at taking your money.” Bakugou scowled.

“Ain’t like that, fuck face. An’ that ain’t what I asked.”

Kirishima shrugged.

“I don’t know much about her, I’ve only met her a few times. She’s never mentioned that.” Bakugou grumbled, sitting back in his chair and sipping his beer. Kirishima signed, patting his friend on the shoulder lightly.

“I wouldn’t count too much on her, a lot of them are liars and-“

“Shut it, y’don’t know her. Only thing she’s lied about is her name.”

Kirishima treads carefully with his words, picking them out with discretion.

“In fairness, neither do you. I’m just lookin out for ya, bro.” He smiles, a pitying smile that makes anger boil in his chest. “But you could be right, it’s not like it’s never worked out for anyone before.” He shrugs, gulping from his own bottle hungrily. “If you really like her, it’s worth a shot.” He smiles again, genuinely this time, and Bakugou snorts, sipping his beer.

A few hours later, he’s drunkenly stumbling into his apartment, pulling off his shirt and collapsing back onto his bed, thinking of you. There’s no thought process as he pulls out his phone and begins to text you,

Bakugou: I miss you

Bakugou: Hope you're okay

When you don’t respond right away, apprehension nibbles at him and prods him to send another.

Bakugou: sorry for messaging, just had some drinks with friends and cant stop thinkin bout you

Bakugou: wish you coulda come with tonight, be better company than fuckin shitty hair

He palms the semi hard on he has in his boxers, a darkening spot where pre had begun to gather. Groaning, he pulled out his cock, wrapping a large hand around it, giving a few half hearted pumps and running his thumb along the tip spreading the pearlescent liquid, imagining that it’s you instead. He wondered if your hand would even be able to fit around his girth.

He wished he had pictures of you he could look at, but he didn’t even have that- just memories of you washed in the strobing neon lights of a dark club. The shine of your lipgloss and the smell of your hair haunted him, following him home on unwashed clothing. God, what he’d give to see that pretty mouth of yours wrapped around his cock, his hand pressing down on the back of your head as he thrust his hips up into your throat.

His hand moved quicker, filling the room with lewd sounds as a low moan ripped through his chest.

The ghost of your touch, the thought of your hips hovering over his as he pressed the fat tip of his cock into your tight entrance. Imagining the way your head would fall back in violent pleasure as he filled you completely.

Fuck, the way he wanted to hear you screaming his name, his first name, under him while his cock split you in two.

He reached his other hand down to grab at his balls as they tightened, nearing his orgasm, grunting, chest heaving as hot ropes of cum shot across his stomach, glistening globs of it clinging to the fine hairs scattered across his abdomen.

Collapsing in the twisted sheets, he waited for his breathing to even out before he grabbed a towel to clean himself off. There’s a soft light as his phone alerted him to a new message.

He hastily unlocked his phone, and saw that it was from you, your name at the top of the screen making his stomach churn.

You: Hey, Bakugou, sorry I’ve been so busy. I hope you had a good time with your friends!

He huffs, leaning back onto his headboard as he typed his response, closing one eye to focus his blurred vision on the bright screen,

Bakugou: would have been more fun with you

Another few minutes go by without a response. He taps the call button, trying his luck.

After a few more rings, he’s about to give up when the line clicks to life on the other side.

“Bakugou?” He hears your voice and his heart nearly skips a beat. His mouth goes dry as he attempts to swallow.

“S’right, I uh… wanted to hear from ya.” He curses himself, wishing he had something better to say. You giggle a little.

“Are you drunk?”

“…Maybe a little.” He admits.

“Mmm, I hope you got home safe.”

“You know I did, princess.” You smile on the other end of the line, pushing yourself back from your desk. There’s a few moments of silence before he blurts out, “D’ya not wanna see me cuz you got a boyfriend or somethin’?” He sits up, muscles tense as he waits for your response.

“Huh? No, I told you why, Bakugou.” He groans loudly, falling back on the mattress.

“Quit fuckin’ callin’ me that.” The whine in his voice is so unlike him, you laugh despite yourself.

“I’m just trying to be professional.”

“Fuck that,” he rasps, staring at the ceiling. It’s quiet again. “D’ya even like me?” Voice almost imperceptibly soft.

You’re quiet a little longer, unsure of how to answer. Of course you did, probably more than you should.

“I like you a lot, Bakugou.” You finally say, so quietly he almost can’t hear it.

“Who hurt you so bad you won’t even let me take you out for dinner?” His voice is a little more commanding this time, but not unkind.

“Maybe I’ll tell you eventually, it’s not that important.”

“It is to me, fucker’s not even around and he’s keepin’ me from the best thing that could happen to me,”

“I’m not that special,” Your voice is low, serious.

“You fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You have no fuckin’ clue what you do to me, and you better stop fuckin’ talkin’ like that about yourself.” His voice is almost a growl and it sends shivers through your body.

“Or what…?” You can’t help the tease that sneaks into your voice.

“Or I’m gonna have to do somethin’ about it.” He rasps.

Your fingers press against your clothed slit as it throbs with want. You try to play it off with a breathless laugh.

“Mmm that so?”

He hums lowly in response, and you can barely suppress a whimper building in your chest. You felt warmth spread from your center and ache for attention. Maybe after you hung up-

“Goodnight, Bakugou.”

“Night princess.”

There’s another moment of silence between you two before you finally hang up.

——

It’s nearly noon before you wake up the next morning, you’d been up incredibly late working on a paper and your body ached from the prolonged period of time you’d spent in your desk chair, hunched over your laptop.

Out of habit you reach for your phone, expecting it to be devoid of messages, but there’s a notification from Bakugou.

Bakugou: morning, sorry for last night. I was a little tipsy.

You: It’s okay, it was good to hear from you.

You put your phone down to get ready for the day, run some errands before heading into work for the night.

By the time you’re stepping out of the shower, there’s another message waiting for you.

Bakugou: hope I can see you tonight.

You: I’ll be there at 8 :) looking forward to it.

Bakugou: better be.

You smiled, shaking your head and went about your day. It was getting harder and harder to push thoughts of Bakugou from your mind, and you hoped beyond hope that you wouldn’t have to cut him off as a client because of your feelings, but it was looking more possible by the day.

Your anxiety raged in your mind with everything that could go wrong, and that had already gone wrong. What would happen if you fell helplessly in love with him? How bad would it hurt when he inevitably found someone who could love him back in the way he wanted? You couldn’t in good conscience string him along knowing how he felt, and cursed yourself for caring about him.

That was the other thing- what about when he got hurt? What if something horrible happened to him? You couldn’t bear the thought of it.

By the time you’re switching over your laundry to the dryer, the doubts had only grown, festering in your chest until the butterflies in your stomach turned into a noxious pit.

This wasn’t good, you were already catching flak at work for your relationship with Bakugou, and the history with Shindou still haunted you. You still caught whispers and snarky comments for it here and there, a poltergeist you couldn’t sage.

Nobody really knew the full details of what had happened, of how he’d been to you behind closed walls and how he had made you out to be a gold digging villain. Nobody knew how he’d hurt you and take advantage of you after getting you too drunk. Those details were always left out, hidden, covered up.

You slammed the dryer shut in frustration, resolving to end your work relationship with Bakugou, despite the clawing at your heart that begged to get closer. Shoving the feelings away, you reminded yourself that the last time you’d let someone in, it had nearly destroyed you.

You hadn’t picked the broken pieces of yourself back up and fixed yourself for no reason. You still had too much to accomplish to let another cocky pro hero derail you again.

By the time you’d returned from the grocery store, you had resolved to have a talk with Bakugou and try to end things amicably, it wouldn’t bode well for you to make an enemy of someone in such a high place, it was already hard enough to wash yourself of the reputation Shindou had branded you with.

You pull your phone from your purse and press the call button by Bakugou’s name and it immediately goes to voicemail. Trying one more time, it ends after a few rings.

Bakugou: at work, I’ll call you when I can.

Bakugou: everything alright?

You: yeah, I’m fine, just needed to talk.

‘Shit’. You wanted to rip the bandaid off, not let it fester longer. But you were running out of time, and had to get ready for work.

Even after you got there, your nerves hadn’t settled and every person that walked in had you jumping slightly in your seat. It’s after midnight before Bakugou gets there, smelling heavily of gunpowder and sweat.

“Rough day..?” you hesitated.

“It wasn’t too bad,” he assures you with a lopsided smile. You nod.

“Bakugou, I uh-“ He senses the reticence in your tone.

“This about why you tried to call earlier?” He interrupts you, suddenly serious.

“Ah, yeah.” your voice wavered under her vermillion gaze. “Listen I uh, I like you,” he turned his body to square yours, narrowing his eyes as his brows knit together in full concentration, “Too much, and I think it’s probably best if you… stop coming to see me.” You finish your sentence in a rush, staring at the bar counter as your eyes begin to water and your throat tightens into a vice.

Bakugou feels like everything had just come crashing down around him, lightheaded and confused, aghast at your confession.

“This about last night?” His voice a low rasp.

“No, I mean, kinda… no.” You add with more conviction. “I just can’t afford to do this again.”

“What the fuck are you talkin’ about?” confusion evident on his face. “This about the asshole you used to date? Cuz I told you I ain’t like whoever that fuckin’ jackass was,” he grabs your wrists, pulling you closer.

“I-I just, it’s still a lot, people at work still give me a hard time and I just started getting clients back after he ruined my name and-“

“Who?” His voice is deadly serious, eyes smoldering, burning into yours as he gripped your chin with a calloused hand and forced you to look at him. “He hurt you?”

You swallow and it feels like sand.

“Who the fuck was it, Aria?” The stage name feels like a knife in your heart.

“I’m sure if you ask around you’ll hear plenty of stories…”

He breathes deeply, pulling you into his chest forcefully, hand on the back of your head, tucking it beneath his chin.

“I don’t care about anything those dicks have to say,” He assured you.

“Please, Bakugou… please go.” Tears stream from your eyes as you push him away from you, his face flashing through a mixture of pain, confusion, and anger. You wipe your eyes delicately so as not to ruin your makeup, resigned to finishing your shift heartbroken. “Go, before I ask the bouncers to do it.” Your voice wavers, betraying you. He snorts,

“Like to see them fuckin’ try.”

Your eyes plead with him, not to make this any harder and his expression frantically searches yours, trying to ascertain your level of conviction before you look away from him, eyes downcast.

He stands abruptly, angrily shoving his chair back into the bar so hard it cracks and several people turn to watch the spectacle.

He slams the door behind him, and you’re keenly aware of the glances and whispers thrown your way. Fixing your hair and pulling yourself up straight, you snap at them,

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Or is your life that fucking boring?” Snatching up your bag, you chug your glass of liquor and hide in the dressing room for a while.

———-

“What the fuck, Bakugou?” Kaminari shouts at him over the sound of a crashing wall. A blast from him had just caused it to collapse and several bricks had narrowly missed their heads.

“Keep up, and it won’t matter,” Bakugou snapped, taking off after the small group of villains they’d been pursuing. Mina managed to trap one of them, knocking him unconscious with a kick to the back of his head.

“Just because you have a death wish doesn’t mean we do,” She seethed at him.

Bakugou ignored her, promptly cornering the remaining two villains until a flash of ice swept in front of him, freezing them in place. His head whipped around to see the scowling face of Shouto before him.

“I didn’t need your fuckin’ help, half n half bastard,” He glowered, sparks snapping around him as he seethed.

“Could have fooled me.” His calm demeanor did nothing to assuage the blonde. “You’re lucky I was nearby before you did any more damage.”

“Fuck off.” He snarled, shoving past him.

“Bakugou,” Todoroki called over his shoulder, “whatever this is about, you need to get past it. This can’t keep happening.”

“Yeah? You’re not my fuckin’ boss, last I checked.” Shouto sighed, greeting the police as they rounded the corner and he briefed them on the situation.

Mina and Kaminari had managed to catch up, breathing heavily.

“Dude, he’s right, you’re gonna get hurt.” Denki tried to place a hand on Bakugou's arm before it was promptly shoved away.

“We’re all worried about you, you know?” Mina admitted, still angry, but trying adopt an air of sympathy.

“I’m fuckin’ fine.” He practically snarled, before turning his back to them and stalking off.

“He’s going to get hurt.” The voice of Shouto startled them from behind, where he watched Bakugou leaving, expression unreadable. He had been witness to Bakugou's growth over the years, and seeing this side of him brought him back to their first year at Yuuei, and it didn’t bode well in the world of pro hero work.

“He’s hurting pretty bad,” Denki tried to sound sympathetic, but the knot forming on his head made it a little difficult.

Shouto looked him over wordlessly,

“If he can’t keep it out of work, someone’s going to get hurt. More than a simple bruise.”

Denki sighed, shaking his head. They all knew he was right, just not how soon it would happen.

It’s only three days later when Bakugou is head to head with another villain, this one stronger than any that had popped up in Musutafu area in recent weeks, his quirk gave him some kind of gravity control on living beings, and several heroes had already fallen behind in the rubble.

Bakugou had blindly chased him onto the roof of a skyscraper, bloodied and battered. One of his grenade gauntlets had started to malfunction. He took a step to leap forward when his foot suddenly felt like lead, and he was crashing through floor after floor of the building, unable to catch himself or stop his descent.

His vision got blurry as he faded in and out of consciousness, the sound of voices, and sirens faded into the background. He remembered being put into a stretcher, and everything else after that was black.

For a week after, he was in and out of consciousness. Flashes of angry fluorescent lights and the shrill, steady beeping of machines. Compared to these, the darkness feels welcoming.

Several friends came to visit him, Deku spending nearly all of his free time by his bedside, hunched over with his head between his knees.

Sometimes Bakugou muttered something unintelligible, and it's another few days before anyone can make out what he’s saying.

“You gotta get through this,” Deku murmurs, “we’re all rooting for you.” It’s a heavy few minutes that pass, the ticking of a clock as loud as thunder in his ears. “You gotta get fitted for your suit for my wedding.” His eyes started to threaten tears as he took in a shaky breath.

Bakugou’s eyes opened, blearily taking in the room around him, groaning as he tried to sit up, a mess of tubes and wires taped to his body.

“Fuckin’ nerd.” He grunted, voice hoarse.

“Kaachan?” Izuku’s head snapped to attention, kneeling by his bedside.

“Aria, where is she?” Is all he can manage before pain wracked his body and he collapsed back onto the bed. “Where is she..?” He opened one eye to meet Deku’s, who looked at him with brows knit in confusion. He thought the name sounded familiar, but it had been so long since he’d heard it that he couldn’t place it.

“Aria?” He repeats.

“The girl from your bachelor party,” he coughs, gripping his ribs tightly. “Her number is in my phone.”

“Oh… your phone got destroyed in the accident.”

“Shit.” He hissed through a clenched jaw.

“I can send someone to go find her?” Izuku suggested lightly and Bakugou nodded, closing his eyes before he fell back asleep.

———

It had been over a month since you’d last heard from Bakugou, and it hurt. It was your decision, so you really had no right to complain and instead buried yourself in work and school.

Still, you often found yourself unblocking him on your phone after a few too many drinks, only to block him again when you woke up sober, checking to make sure you hadn’t sent any messages.

Some part of you hoped that he’d burst through the doors of the club to come see you, demand your attention and refuse to leave.

But he didn’t, and your pride would never allow you to ask him to come back, so you dealt with the dull ache living in your chest.

After a few weeks, you had accepted that he wasn’t coming back and that it was nothing but a beautiful memory, content to leave it at that. Or at least that’s what you’d been telling yourself.

It isn’t even nine o’ clock when a red headed hero you vaguely recognize comes bursting through the front doors, still in his hero costume. Several patrons and dancers turn and chatter quickly erupts between them.

He searched the room, and the moment he made eye contact with you he froze, and beelined for you. Your eyes widened, taking note of the pained expression on his face and a thousand thoughts crashed through your mind.

“Hey,” He pants, a little breathless.

“Hi? You’re uh, Bakugou’s-���

“His friend, yeah.” He nodded, speaking hurriedly. “Listen, Bakugou had an accident and he’s uh, he’s been asking for you. He’s okay right now!” He added quickly, catching notice of your expression. “He’s awake and everything now.”

“What happened?” Your heart felt like it stopped, or like it had dropped into your stomach, or like you were about to throw it up on the floor- or maybe all of them at the same time.

You listen to him recount the situation and move to grab your things, but he stops you, placing a calm hand on your arm.

“You can stop by tomorrow,” You look at him like he’s stupid, shaking your head.

“I’m going now.”

“You can’t, visiting hours are over.” He sighs, recognizing the indignance on your face. “Look, he’s probably sleeping by now. We would have called you earlier but nobody had your number or knew your real name so…”

“So you had to wait to come find me at work.” You finish his sentence for him, regret twisting in your stomach. He nodded.

“So, tomorrow? If you need a ride one of us can come get you.”

“I can just take the train.”

“If you insist,” He doesn’t try to force you, but gave you his number to text you the details of the hospital and left you there to marinate in your remorse.

———-

You didn’t sleep very well that night, if at all, but the second you’re awake, you’re rushing to get ready to leave, unbothered with makeup or getting your hair done. You threw a small bag together and headed out of the door to make your way to the train station.

Your gaze is listless and glassy as you stand, hand gripping the support on the train, dread in your stomach growing until it felt like you had swallowed stones that sat heavy in your stomach.

The walk up to the hospital felt like an endless journey ahead of you, the sidewalk seeming to morph and stretch and grow longer with each step until you’re at the doors of his hospital room, reaching a shaking hand forward to push it open.

When you finally entered, he’s there, sitting up on a pillow and reading a book, all bandages and casts and tubes and machines.

“Bakugou,” You gasped, gripping your bag tightly. He turned to face you, expression softening ever so slightly. You raced over to him, gripping his hand in yours until your knuckles went white. “How do you feel?” You felt hot tears falling down your cheeks and you sniffled, reaching forward to place a delicate hand to his cheek.

“I’m alright, princess. Told ya, one of the best.” He grimaces as pain shoots through his side, but makes every attempt to hide it from you. You have the grace to pretend not to notice.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” He shrugs.

“S’alright, glad you’re here now.” You attempt a smile through stifled sobs.

Wiping your tears, you grip the front of his hospital gown, trying to muster some kind of anger at him and failing.

“Why’d you have to go and do something so stupid?” Your laugh is choked with sorrow and it hurt him to hear it.

“Didn’t think you’d care so much, Aria.” He rumbled and laughed, raspy and comforting. The sound of your dancer name made you wince and you told him your real one. “Only gonna call you that if ya start calling me Katsuki.”

“Alright, Katsuki.” You nodded, promising him.

“Can I kiss you now?” He scrunches his nose, furrowing his brow and you giggle, leaning over him and for the first time your lips met.

His fingers card through your hair, pushing your head to the side to fit his lips against yours. Your lips move, softly and slowly against his, gripping the front of his shirt tightly.

He pressed himself more firmly against you, parting his mouth to swipe his tongue across your lips and beg for entry- and you let him in. His teeth graze against your bottom lip and a soft moan escaped you, and he smirks, swallowing it in his own open, hungry mouth.

It’s several minutes before you pull yourselves apart, lips bruised and swollen from the intensity of the kiss and you stroked his hair, admiring the shades of crimson in his gaze.

“Missed you,” he mumbled, thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I missed you, too, Katsuki.” Your admission has you both reeling, you buried your face in his neck and breathed him in. The smell is familiar and makes you feel like you were home again, bittersweet nostalgia like heroin in your veins. “Sorry if I look awful, I didn’t really take the time to-“

“Shut up,” he swats your head, “You really think I give a shit about that?”

“Guess you’re not really in a position to judge.” You giggle and he rolls his eyes.

“Alright, smartass.” He took in your visage a moment more, hoping to himself that this wasn’t a dream and that you were really here, standing in front of him. Instead of pinching himself, he flicks you on the forehead, and regains some of his snark.

“Ow,” you rub your forehead.

“Ya gonna let me take you on a fuckin’ date now.” You give him a half smile, eyes glittering behind tears.

“If you get better, then I promise I will.”

“You got it, princess.” He smirks, before pressing another kiss to your forehead.

—————

His recovery isn’t fast, but it isn’t necessarily slow, either.

You tell him about your quirk for the first time and about why you had chosen your area of study. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious about it, and getting to know all the little things about you was something he cherished, even if he teased you for it.

You told him that you’d use it to help him, but that it was considered unethical until you had your license. He wouldn’t say it, but it was something he admired about you and reminded him of the days before he got his hero license.

Even if sometimes he wished you’d use it to ease his pain just a little bit.

“You’re a lot shorter without those heels,” he remarked, mussing your hair on the top of your head, swatting his hand away.

There were some things you still wouldn’t talk about, like family and your ex- that he was careful to tread lightly around. You’d tell him when you were ready, he assumed.

You often came around during his physical therapy sessions, conversation helping to keep his mind off of how hard it was for him at times.

“Bet you can’t cook for shit,” He taunted through painfully gritted teeth as he stretched his body, one arm over his head, torso twisted and elongated.

“I could cook circles around you.” You retorted, watching as his muscles twitched and relaxed with each stretch. He was fucking beautiful, and it made you long to run your fingers over the fine lines and veins on his body. You wanted to place loving kisses over each and every scar and wondered about the ones you couldn’t see.

“Guess you’ll have to come over and prove it, then.” He smirked, watching your cheeks turn pink and you shrugged shyly.

“Maybe I will.”

He was allowed to leave the hospital about a week later, and you were there to meet him as he finished packing his things.

“Hungry?” You asked, smoothing the sheets over the mattress he had slept on for so long, he dwarfed it by comparison and seeing him stand you realized how much larger than you he really was now that he was able to pull his powerful frame fully upright.

“Thought you said you were gonna cook for me?” He slips his bag over his shoulder, looking you up and down as you stammer for words.

You were excited, terrified, at the prospect of being alone with him in his house. He snorted, swatting you lightly on the side of your head.

“I’ll cook for you this time, idiot.” You blushed, as he took your hand in his and led you out the front doors of the hospital. Anxiety gripped your heart as you anticipated a swarm of paparazzi to be waiting outside, but there were none.

Katsuki watched you from the corner of his eye and snorted.

“Don’t wanna be seen with me?” His voice was light, and teasing but your expression darkened and he tilted his head as concern colored his gaze.

“It’s not that.” You didn’t want to explain to him about the ghosts in your past that could resurrect at any moment, that you worried the second they found out about your new life they’d come back to ruin your happiness again. You’d done your best to leave them behind, but the past was never quite dead.

“Hmm,” He hums, squeezing your hand tightly. His car had been dropped off for him and he unlocked it, letting you clamber inside.

“It feels strange to be in a car,” You murmur, running your hands along the fine leather seats.

“You took the train here every day?” He asked, mildly surprised.

“Mhmm.” You look out the window until you realize that he’s still staring at you. “What? There’s nothing wrong with public transport.” He shook his head as he started the car.

“Did you need to stop at the grocery store first?”

“No.” He scoffs, “I get them delivered.”

“Oh.” Your voice is soft and it dawns on you just how different his life was from yours.

“Did you need anythin’?”

“No, I’m alright.”

You finish the drive in relative silence, listening to the radio as it played quietly and he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel.

When you pull up to the building you can’t help but gasp, mouth open slightly and he snickers, getting out and handing the valet his keys. It’s modern, and slightly grand and you feel a little out of place here, but he takes your hand in his again, rubbing small circles against your palm.

His apartment itself isn’t very opulent, minimal high quality furniture with subtle displays of wealth. Nice clothes, gaming systems, and a computer set up that looks like it must have cost a lot of money.

He tosses his bag down by the couch and pads softly into the kitchen, opening cabinets and pulling out various ingredients, pots and pans, and you seat yourself at the island.

“This is really nice.”

He shrugs.

“I get by.” You scoff, shaking your head and he smirks.

He begins prepping the food and you watch him, admiring the subtle ways he moves and the way his hair falls across his face. Your stomach twists and a feeling you can’t fully describe takes hold of you, something heavy and tangible in the air.

Being alone like this with him, the intimacy of domesticity was something you never thought you’d see from the pro hero, and it filled you with warmth.

The curry he’d made was already spicy, but you gaped at him as he added a significant amount more to his own.

“Jesus,” you breathed.

“Scared?” Your eyes narrow as you snatch the bottle from his hands and pour a hefty amount into your own and he laughs as your eyes water when you take a bite.

“S’good.” You manage and he nods.

“Better be.”

You help him do the dishes and dry your hands when you finish. He reaches up to a cabinet above the fridge and pulls down a bottle of expensive whiskey and two crystal glasses.

“A lot better than the shit you got at your club,”

You sip it, following him to the couch and sigh contentedly when he pulls you into his chest, warm and secure. You hum as you nestle your face in the crook of his neck, shuddering when he places a warm kiss against your jawline. You return the favor against the pulse point of his neck. You feel him hum beneath you, adjusting your body with his hands on your hips so that you’re facing him.

“You really are fuckin’ beautiful,” He murmurs, vermillion eyes holding you in place.

“You’re one to talk,” You mumble, watching as his chin tilts forward, he pushes the pleats of your skirt up over your hips and his hand draws back to land a harsh slap on your ass, pulling a strained whimper from you.

“What’d I say about talkin’ about yourself like that?”

Your eyes water as he slaps your ass again.

“I asked you a question, princess,” his voice is dripping with condescension and it makes your clit throb.

“S-sorry,”

“Sorry, what?” His hand lands against you again, pleasure blooming along side pain when his other hand pressed against your clothed slit, taunting you with light movements.

“Sorry, daddy?” You try, looking up at him for approval, eyes glittering with tears and a desire to please that leaves him breathless.

‘Good girl,’ he thinks.

“That’s right,” He rasps against your ear, moving his hand to press your hips down onto his half hard cock, rewarding you. You whine helplessly, grinding your hips against his, desperate for some kind of friction to quell the aching heat between your thighs.

He trails open mouthed kisses down your neck, biting at the sensitive spot near your collarbone, and you moan, fingers digging into his hair.

He holds you against him tightly, leaning you back, pressing himself on top of you, fingers finding their way to the hem of your shirt. He slips his hand underneath it, your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe, light headed and unable to believe what was happening.

It felt unreal, to be here in his apartment, alone, and god he felt so good against you, his skin swelteringly hot and his weight was comforting as it pinned you in place.

You yelp a little as he shoves his hand under your bra, pinching your nipples lightly as his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh of your neck. You reach your shaky hands down to pull your shirt off and he helps you pull it over your head, deft hands reaching behind you and unclasping your bra.

He doesn’t waste any time closing his mouth around one of your sensitive nipples, sucking and pulling it lightly with his teeth while his other hand roughly massaged your other neglected breast, thumb rubbing circles over its stiffening peak.

You tried to grind your bare sex needily against his thigh but he swiftly halted your movements with one powerful hand on your hips.

“Oh fuck,” you groaned as he released your nipple and you shuddered when the cool air met wet skin. He leaned back, getting to his knees on the floor as he pulls your legs over his shoulders, placing kisses on alternating thighs, tauntingly close to your aching heat. He pressed one finger against your underwear, savoring the way it gathered your slick and grew dark with your lust.

“So needy,” He teased, biting near the apex of your thighs, hands holding your thighs apart as they fought to close around him. He hummed against you, breathing in deeply and you felt your walls spasming around nothing. He removed your panties in one fluid motion, nuzzling his face against your warmth, tasting you with small, rough licks that had you mewling and your toes curling.

He pulled his face away, running his ring finger lightly along your folds, gathering the slick that had your thighs sticky.

“God, you really are a messy little slut,” He growled, parting you with his finger and circling your entrance.

“Please, Katsuki,” your voice broke as you tried to grind your hips against his finger and guide them where you really wanted them.

There’s another sting as he slaps his hand against the side of your ass.

“Is that what you call me?”

“Daddy,” you gasped, feeling tears well in your eyes, “Please, daddy, I need you,”

“Need me, hah?”

He growled lowly, slowly slipping his finger into you and watched as your face contorted with pleasure, working you open slowly.

He joins it with another thick finger, scissoring them with agonizing slowness and dexterous fingers.

“Oh shit…”

Your whole body tensed when he licked a long, flat line up your slit, circling your sensitive mound and sucking on it softly, your nails raking against the fabric of the couch.

“Oh fuck, Daddy,” You whined, back arching and he hums against you, curling his fingers against that soft, spongey spot inside you that had you moaning an equal song of curses and praise, that made you abandon all sense and coherent speech.

His fingers picked up the pace and you felt the hot coil in your stomach tightening.

He watched you come undone, crimson eyes locking with yours, intent on bringing you over the edge.

“Daddy, please, I can’t- can I cum, please please please…” You whine, struggling to breathe, eyes rolling back into your head as he sucked harder on your clit, tongue moving expertly against it with a ravenous urgency. He hums his permission and after a few more harsh curls of his fingers he feels the tight walls of your cunt begin to flutter around them and you keen loudly, grinding your hips helplessly against his face as he helped you ride out the harsh waves of your orgasm.

He pulled away from you as you caught your breath, a darkening spot on his pants where pre had soaked through. He pulled you close to him, kissing you with more tenderness and care than you anticipated, tasting yourself on his lips. You take his fingers in his hands and suck on the softly, tongue swirling around them and closing your eyes.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He mumbled, picking you up in his arms and resuming the kiss as he carried you to the bedroom. He lay you down and your fingers fumbled with his belt buckle while he ripped his shirt off over his head. He stood before you now completely naked, all muscle and skin and sweat. Your breath caught in your throat and you moaned softly,

“You’re so pretty,” you murmured, trailing your fingers down the sparse hairs of his stomach to where his cock sat, thick and long and curved delicately upward, making your mouth water to taste him- and you do.

You trail the tip of your tongue from his balls down the underside along the veins, leading to the pink mushroomed tip, slipping it behind your lips and humming as he threw his head back with a groan.

He placed a rough palm against the back of your head as you took more of him, eyes watering when it hit the back of your throat. He pulled himself out before thrusting back in, holding your head with both hands as he fucked your mouth at a heavy pace.

“Shit, fuck, fuck,” He grunted, watching you, glassy eyed as you obediently sucked his cock, “Good fuckin’ girl,” he pants, punctuating each word with a harsh thrust. Your lungs are burning for air when he finally pulls himself away, cock thick and throbbing. He pumps his cock a few times, motioning with his chin, “Turn over,” and you do, ass in the air, waiting for him.

You feel the mattress dip beneath his weight as he settles behind you. The sensation of his cock pressing against your slit has you pushing back against him, but he doesn’t give you any relief.

“Such an impatient little slut,” he coos, voice dripping with condescension as he ruts the length of his cock along your slit, spreading your slick. “God you really are a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He rasped, leaning his body over yours and you groaned.

“Please daddy, I can’t take it anymore,” You pressed your burning face into the pillows beneath you and he laughed cruelly.

“Poor little princess,” He ruts against you again, the head of his cock catching on your little bundle of nerves, sending jolts through your body. “How bad do you want me, hmm?” His voice lilts, taunting you.

“S-so bad, daddy, please… I’ll do anything.” Your eyes are watering now, driven mad by the anticipation building again in your body, impetuous hips pressing back against his length.

“Think you can take it, princess?” He practically spits the last word at you.

“Know I can,” you screw your eyes shut, gripping the sheets tightly. That answer seems to satisfy him, as he lines himself up with you aching center, slowly pushing the fat head of his cock inside you, reveling in the way your breath hitches and your body tenses up around him. He pulls away slightly before giving shallow, deliberate thrusts into your taut muscles.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight, angel,” His voice is strained, “Chokin’ my fuckin’ cock with your perfect little cunt, takin‘ me so well,” You whimper, adjusting to the stretch as he manages to bury himself into you entirely, stilling his movements for a moment. His cock is heavy, and you feel so fucking full, brain devoid of any thoughts that aren’t Katsuki.

He pulls back, feeling the way your silky walls try to suck him back into you, thrusting forward and pulling your hips back in time with his movements and you keen loudly as his cock presses against your cervix.

He sets a moderate pace, eyes half lidded as he watches you writhe beneath him, babbling incoherently.

“F-feels, feels so so good, daddy,” you whine pathetically.

“Y-yeah, baby, fuckin’, fuckin’ know it does,” He pants as he picks up the pace slightly, cock dragging along your walls, a white ring of cream building in his coarse hair. He fucked you forecully, hips snapping into yours as he held you up against him, pulling your back flush with his. He slows his pace, roughly massaging your breasts as he moves languidly in and out of you, leaving just the tip of his cock buried each time before canting his hips forward again.

“Oh, f-fuck,” The pleasure was unimaginable, and when he pressed a heavy palm against your abdomen you felt your body begin to shake. He brushed a rough thumb over your clit and you moaned, high pitched and breathy,

“Too much, daddy, I-I s’too much, please,” Tears began to flow freely down your cheeks as he bit down on your shoulder, pain blurring with pleasure.

“Such a good little slut for me,” He mumbles against your throat before pulling out of you and flipping you onto your back, setting himself between your folds, forcing your legs up onto his shoulders. He doesn’t wait to shove his cock back into you, and a scream dies in your throat as he fucks the air from your lungs and the only sounds are skin slapping against skin.

“Made to take my cock,” he breathed against your ear.

He pressed his weight down onto you, breath coming in ragged pants as sweat coated his brow from the effort of his movements.

“God, fuckin tight little cunt, feel s’fuckin’ good,” The filth falling from his lips made your body burn.

“D-don’t stop, daddy, please don’t stop,” Your breasts bounced from the ferocity of his thrusts, bed frame slamming against the wall.

“I’m not gonna fuckin’ stop, never wanna leave your fuckin’ cunt,” he grunted, feeling his own orgasm draw dangerously near, “Fuck you into the shape of my cock, my good girl.” He emphasized the possessive, pressed every inch of himself into you with deliberate thrusts, abdomen brushing against your clit and any thought that wasn’t him was gone from your mind- all you could manage was a string of

“Daddy, daddy, please, fuck me,”

“Gonna fuckin’ cum on daddy’s cock?” He rasped, gripping your hair in his fist, pulling back on it roughly when he felt you clench tightly around him. “Wanna cum again, you greedy thing?” All you could manage was a choked sob and nodded in response as he fucked you into the mattress. “Cum on my fuckin’ cock, then, come on,” His thrusts were becoming erratic as he got impossibly hard inside of you and you reached shaking fingers down to rub messy circles against your swollen clit.

You keened loudly as your orgasm ripped through you and you dug little half moons into his back with your nails, sobbing as the waves of pleasure washed through your body and he fucked you through your second orgasm. You’re still dizzy, vision blurred from the mixture of tears and pleasure as his muscles tensed. He moved to pull out but you tightened your legs around him,

“Katsuki, please, cum in me,” His expression darkened, eyes a conflagration of lust hearing his name, a breathy moan on your lips.

“Want me to breed your slutty little cunt?” He groaned loudly, and it made you ache and throb around him, “Dirty fuckin’ slut wants me to breed her, hah? That what you want?” There’s an urgency to his movements now, his desire to mark you as his, overrides every other thought and it’s enough to send him over the edge as he spilled inside you with a low growl, movements slowing into deep, purposeful thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into your sex.

“God, I fuckin’ love you,” he breathed, and you stiffened a little, caught slightly off gaurd. Was it just the haze of sex, the post orgasm dizziness that made him say… that?

He lay on top of you, both of you panting and struggling to catch your breath, placing hot, wet kisses against each other's bodies. His lips crashed heavily against yours, teeth clicking and noses pressed roughly together. He pulled away and your heart ached at the lack of contact as he pulled his softening cock from you with a lewd squelch.

“Katsuki?” You murmured, just barely a whisper.

“Hmm?” He stood, grabbing a towel to clean the both of you off.

“Did you mean it?” He studied your pensive expression.

“That I love you?”

“Mhm.” He closed the distance between you, taking your jaw in his hands and forced you to meet his gaze, hot coals glowing with emotion.

“Yeah, I’m in love with ya,” He says, sincerely.

“I… I love you, too, Katsuki.”

He leaned down and kissed you tenderly, before tapping your ass lightly and pulling away, holding your hand in his.

“Let’s take a shower, you’re all fuckin’ sticky.”

———————-

There’s a few days where you’re blissfully, indescribably happy. There really isn’t much that could be done to ruin your mood. You went through the day, feeling light and as if the ground beneath you were made of clouds.

But of course, it can’t last.

Of course, the past you’d been running from would catch up to you as soon as you’d stopped to appreciate the life you’d built around you.

It’s a simple text message from an unknown number that reads,

Unknown: does your new boy toy know about us? does he know what a slut you are?

Unknown: maybe he should get a look at the videos I have.

Your heart sinks, and you quickly delete and block the number, hands shaking.

It’s nothing, can’t mean anything, it’s just someone messing with you, certainly.

It isn’t until you’re checking out of a grocery store when a magazine cover catches your eye, and you freeze, squinting at the pictures plastered across the front.

They’re of you and Katsuki, walking out of the hospital, and another of the two of you walking into his apartment building.

Your mouth goes dry as you pick it up with shaking hands.

The cashier waves, calling you forward, and you put it back, hiding it behind a different magazine.

“Oh, sorry,” you fumble with your wallet as you pay and grab your bags, rushing out of the store.

‘This can’t be happening.’ You wanted to cry, to throw something, to disappear into the earth.

None of which happened, and you were still standing outside, mind reeling as a storm slowly began to roll in.

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki smut #katsuki smut

[louroth]

Well, well, well. Would you look at what the cat dragged in. (it's me, Lou!)

The time is here, and oh man, do I have a lot to say! Ever since this post was posted on my personal tumblr, on the fifth of may, I have been working like a machine on all things OUROBOROS. I had originally planned for this to just be a progress report/ announcement on what I will be working on now that I am free of the shackles of work, but, somehow, I managed to finish all bullet points, and more. So, let's get into it!

First off, the title.  Ouroboros becomes all capitalized OUROBOROS. Idk. It's neat. Next!

Art. Whew. I didn't think I could draw like this anymore- drawing has been more of a struggle than writing has been, forever, always- it was something I really strived to become good at, for a time. And I gave up. Only to pick it up again when I started ouro, and ever since I released that pressure, something just clicked and I have been churning out art like never before. I don't know if this is a fluke, a stroke of luck or if all that hard work I once did slaving away with menial art practice… but I'm grateful nonetheless. (A note on official RO art: I lost my ipad pencil somewhere on the lawn, lmao. I haven't been able to get a new one yet, so there is a slight delay here.) I am hoping that I get to make some commissions too, in the near future. Visit the forum to see some works in progress (amongst them, Yor's RO portrait!)

Onto the hellscape that is coding! I have been growing more proficient with CSS and html with the help of the ones that run so that we can walk; I have studied and researched and tested and tinkered until my eyes crossed, finding my way into this medium with the incredible guidance of the giants of whose shoulders I stand on. I will talk about this in detail on a later date. So I think it's finally time to reveal that yes, I am working on a twine version of ouro. I will develop it in tandem with choicescript; the porting over from one to the other isn't the herculean task I thought it would be.

Why am I doing this? Because I need to have a save system. I am continuing to write the whole alpha draft in choicescript in hopes that CoG will announce the ability to have a native save/checkpoint system, but if that doesn’t happen, I can’t publish this story without one. Unfortunately, I am not willing to code in a savesystem in choicescript myself, because this will be a large game, with far too many variables for that to be sustainable. Trust me, no one is more disappointed by that fact than me. If it comes to the point that twine publishing will be what I do, I will set my sights on writing a smaller game for hosted games. 

Now the meatier announcements!

New Socials!

Tumblr: You are looking at it!  This is the new, exclusively OUROBOROS blog where I will share all announcements and sneak-peeks, and future updates. I worked together with the dev of the theme and made it oh, so pretty and functional. Please check out their portfolio here, if you are ever in the market for sprucing up your (desktop version) of tumblr. They were a pleasure to work with. Amongst other things, it has a gorgeous header (again, only if you visit on web and not mobile) where I am showcasing fanart and official art. Go check it out! This month, I am showcasing a truly breathtaking art from KAIRELART, and you can find the full art here, or follow the links in the “FEATURED ARTIST” tab in the top bar.

I hope you enjoy this new haven for OUROBOROS! I will be answering questions once a week (saturday) and ramping up as I adapt to this new schedule, more on that further below.

My old tumblr, honeypeabrain, will revert back to being my personal blog. Feel free to keep following me there, but know that it will be inundated with shitposts, crass humor and the occasional poetry dump and personal post. You’ve been warned!

Discord!

By the good graces, this was ROUGH to set up. Working with discord bots is akin to wrangling code, and it was well and truly, a war. But with the help of many, it is finally all done and ready for anyone to join and talk to me and others about OUROBOROS and anything else between heaven and earth. 

I will also greatly appreciate if any future bugs and feedback are submitted through here, so I can keep easier track of it. Come join us! (18+ ONLY.)

Patreon & Ko-Fi

Yep! Ko-fi is just a place to toss me a coin if you wish to help me towards the goal of new PC parts to make testing easier, or to just show appreciation for those that have it to spare. Patreon however, already has a multitude of posts and will be a hub for exclusive NSFW sidestories that you get to vote on, loredives and extensive sneak peeks, Q&A’s, polls and weekly dev logs. 

Right now, there are only two tiers, but I expect it to grow as my story does. I have many plans, but I am going at a steady pace. 

Amongst tiered content, there is a (free) NSFW story with female MC and Idren to read there right now, if you want to check it out! I am mgoing to post it on tumblr and the adult thread here over the weekend.

NOTE: I stupidly didn't realize that patreon had a review process after I pressed launch, which I did just a few minutes ago. Sigh. I am going to post the short on tumblr and the adult forum thread as soon as I get to it.

It is not mandatory by any means, so if you do choose to support me, you have my eternal gratitude as these places will be the sole source of income for me.

Onto writing:

The best news out of this whole bunch is that I have worked so hard on editing and writing, that in the past month I have all but finished a two chapter update! I have a chunk of about 5-6 thousand words left to write, and I am going to buckle down over the weekend to see it through. I wanted to have it done so badly for today, but I lost three days of writing time last week due to still being weighed down with work. I hope it isn’t too disappointing to have to wait until monday for the demo update! I am going to post a link to an as-I-write updated demo on Patreon and Discord, if you want to see the ugly face of raw wip drafts. Otherwise I will post the demo update here on Monday with a comprehensive post!

And now!  the biggest news is… from now on, I am writing full time!

This is what I have been tossing and turning about every night ever since Easter. It started as a silly idea while talking to some friends and family about how I was looking for a change in career. And then, little by little, that idea whittled down to a plan, carefully carved by my partner and his whispers of a happy future, a finished dream project, and something to be proud of until the day I wither and die. 

Somewhere between then and now, I grasped a tiny sliver of bravery and held on for dear life. 

I quit my job as a teacher, and instead of accepting a cushy office job, I started behaving as if OUROBOROS and writing was my work (for all the moments I could afford). I have researched and tried different methods from week to week, and although I was still tired from work, I felt like I was onto something that could build into a sustainable future. 

I have no doubts that this journey will be bumpy and long, but sometimes all it takes is to take that first step, and do it with determination. It might all crash and burn and fail in a spectacular way, or with a whimper, but then I will know that I have tried. I will know that I gave myself the chance to be who I want to be, work on what means so much to me. 

And that’s it. I think the hardest part of formulating this post (I’ve written about 50 versions of it!) is getting to the point; the kernel of what makes it so special to me. So, in my heart of hearts, what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm gonna give it my all- and while I know the road to having a sustainable career in writing is rough and ever winding, I do know for sure that I am ready for a challenge, to pour my heart and soul into it until the day I rush out of the office screaming IT IS DONE. IT IS DOOOOONE!!! 

If you decide to join me, I will treasure your company like a lantern in the dark. Hand in lovable hand, let’s fucking go.

#OUROBOROS #ouroboros-if #interactive fiction #hosted games #CYOA #twine #dev log #progress update #honeypeabrain #smacking tags on this post like they're skittles im aiming into a beasts mouth #I DIDN'T REALIZE PATREON WAS GOING TO REVIEW MY PAGE (literally cried about it because I planned everything so meticulously) SOB #anyway :') but a small stepping stone on the long journey ahead #I am going to take the dog for a long walk and then upload the demo/spicy short as I say hello to anyone joining the disc #I hope to see you there :>

[bee-ina-boat]

hello gay people. i mentioned awhile back about a possible concept for a tma au but its mixed with mythology/religion based stuff. i have since finished this chunk of concept/reference art of the Ceaseless Watcher for this au!!!

im dubbing it: The Magnus Mythos!! please talk to me about it i am insane

putting my rambling au nonsense under the readmore!!!!!

edit!!!: new mythos post just dropped :3

alright- bare with me because my thoughts are everywhere lol

random various au information:

the fear entites are instead more general gods, much like those from various mythologies (greek, norse, egyption, etc.) like the eye, rather than an entity that feeds on the fear of being watched, is rather the god of knowledge and sight!

all of the gods have influence over the world, some mortals will devote themselves to one specific god entirely, others will become devout to multiple, and some will simply be neutral among all 14 and live life out as they please.

avatars are mortals who have been blessed with power by the gods while creatures (like mr spider, the not them, etc) are simply beings who have been born into the world by the gods power seeping into it. artifacts are items that have either been blessed/cursed by the gods or avatars, or have been affected by the gods power seeping into the world also.

theres multiple sects, cults, and churches for each god much like how many real life religions have different sects with their own rules and standards. some have beef, others do not.

the gods themselves are entirely morally neutral, they have their own interconnected relationships with eachother, and kind of view mortals as pets in a way, picking favorites and seeing them as of lesser importance in comparison to themselves.

since the gods here arent necessarily evil and theyre actually sentient beings, their titles are changed to be more fitting (the mother of puppets -> the mother of fate as an example)

the story is set in an era resembling the early 1900s because idk. vibes are neat i guess

thats all the basic world building crumbs for now, ill go deeper into it when i have more art and story stuff ready!

for now- heres some actual lore :3c

Jonah magnus is basically eye jesus. thousands of years prior to the start of the story, the eye favored him and he became a messiah of sorts.

the House of Magnus is a church sect of the eye founded in what is now london. but it doesnt operate JUST as a simple church. many sects of the eye devote themselves to gaining knowledge of the world around them and the House of Magnus is no different there. operating with a library, research centre and all. the research not just on history and knowledge, but also the holy and divine. documenting stories that deal with the divine powers and researching cursed/blessed artifacts aswell.

its a common legend that if one tells their story under the eyes watch (either in a church of the eye or directly to an avatar of the eye) that theyll receive good fortune and foresight, and since the House of Magnus has become a well known sect of the eye, many will come far and wide to detail their accounts under its roof

all of this documentation leads down to the Magnus Mythos, a large archive under the church where the written documents are filed, curated and cared for by the head Archivist. as such, the position of Archivist has become a most sacred role among worshippers of the eye comparable to the head of the church itself.

they arent just revered for their care of the mythos (though the devotees of the eye view the care of documented knowledge to be a sacred and ever important responsibility) Theres a prophecy, hand woven by the Mother of Fate herself, one that states an ordinary archivist will one day be gifted by all 14 of the gods and awaken the great change, bringing about a new and blessed age.

but is this newest archivist even ready for such pressure and commitment? and what if the prophecy is more devious than one might think?

oooOOOOoooOO mysterious lore- i know this is heavily self indulgent but i refuse to apologize for that because im havin FUN. if you read all of that just know i love you so much and i hope you liked it ;w; im very excited and ive been working on archivist +archival assistant lore for the past few days and im excited to do art for them ;_;

#myart #my art #scopophobia #trypophobia #eyes tw #religious themes #religion tw #tma #magnus archives #the magnus archives #magpod #tma fears #the fear entities #the ceaseless watcher #elias bouchard #jonah magnus #tma au #the magnus mythos #digital art #long post #the archivist

[quohotos]

Okay so there are some things I really miss about reddit...

You don't really miss it until it's gone, but (at least using a third party app) it was really easy and immediate to control exactly what you saw. The process of blocking a tag on tumblr is a little bit clunky. I have to go into a sub menu in the settings and then type out the tag I can't just right click and filter it out.

It's really difficult to modulate how much horny content you want to engage with here. I don't think reddit users were any more or less horny than tumblr users, I just think it was easier to keep the separated. Obviously everyone's experience is different, but it was really easy to feel out the tone of a community and sort them into categories of horny and not horny. When something was a little risque or inappropriate it was very easy for the poster or moderator to mark it as such. I felt safe browsing reddit on my laptop in class because I knew that as long as I didn't click on anything marked as such I wasn't gonna get any weird looks from the person behind me. I'm not trying to be puritanical about the morality of horny content or anything like that, I just liked being able to very clearly chose how much of it I wanted to engage with. If I wanted to seek it out, it was easy to find, but it wouldn't come to me when I wasn't asking for it. Maybe with time and experience I'll figure out how to do that here, but it's still something I miss.

The third party app that I used didn't render profile pictures. I thought it was pretty neat to not have much of an identity. Idk, I'm a shy jealous person and seeing all these pretty talented people is very intimidating. I didn't mind being a nobody when it felt like everyone else was a nobody.

I do not know where to find the good memes here. I'm sure they exist, but I don't know where they are. There were just some amazing injoke shitpost subs that I really vibed with and I haven't found out an equivalent here.

I thought of some more things so I've edited them in

I miss having an easy distinction between NSFW blur and spoiler blur. It made discussing media so much safer, I felt like I could participate in am evolving discussion without risking ruining the surprises. You could also use it creatively for memes, like making osha violations be tagged as NSFW and blurred so you'd click on it expecting to see some ass but instead it's like dude standing on a swivel chair.

Putting tags (well, they were called flairs, and you could only have one) up front on a post was so nice. When talking about a show I could immediately see what seasons were being discussed before even reading the title. It could also serve as a hint about what was actually behind a spoiler/NSFW blur. The tags on tumblr are so much fun, and are very versetile but I feel like they're an addendum to the actual post content, whereas reddit flairs were a heads up.

On the whole though, people have been nice and helpful here, and I'm really grateful for that. Hopefully I'll learn to adapt and feel as at home here as I was there... but man I just keep staring at my dash and thinking "you're not my real dad".

#new to tumblr #reddit blackout #reddit migration #tumblr #tumblr etiquette

[pixiedust-poppers]

you know funny enough, I feel like Jake and the neverland pirates would actually do really well as a Disney channel show for older kids (like say Gravity falls) instead of a preschool show. You’d be able to get more into lore and emotional stuff. Maybe even plot?

I don’t know, if they ever did decide to reboot the show it’s a neat idea.

*grabs your shoulders and shakes you excitedly*

THAT'S WHAT I'M SAYING!!!! LIKE!!!!

Ok, I think there is something to be done with Jake and his crew and his dynamic with Peter and Hook. Like for example how do the kids feel that Peter is only here for a day or a few hours, just enough to help with their issue? I'm sure the kids have a bit of an unhealthy attachment to him as he's really the only guardian figure they know, and as shown in Peter Pan's return, they all crave his attention so bad that they fuck up the mission trying to impress him! Like sure they can call him to bring him back to Neverland, but they don't perhaps he implemented a rule that they can only call him for emergencies. Which is also kinda hm. But you know he doesn't completely neglect them.

Word vomit incoming

Now let's take this a step deeper; what about Peter's relationship with them individually, it's clear he has a favorite, and it's Jake like that isn't a contest. Even if the show tries not to portray it in that manner it's obvious (I mean for fuck sake his name is in the title lol). His item(s)? A wooden sword personally hand-carved by Peter himself. After completing the Forever Quest, a golden sword called the Destiny Sword (towards the end of season 3) turns him into Captain Jake after giving the others a rousing speech about teamwork and how they can all get together to defeat Fathom with it. So it's clear he's the chosen (I'll touch more on that pressure later) by Neverland. But what does that mean for Izzy and Cubby? I mean sure they got items from him and he does care about them, but they're not as special as Jake. And they're never going to be, I mean god, Disney didn't even bother to make them Birthday episodes yet gave Jake two, then gave Skully and a minor character one. So it could develop into them realizing that while they are well-liked they aren't loved by Peter, Cubby is in denial about this revelation as he has gotten more gifts than Izzy. Izzy, the only girl in the main cast, is grated by this knowledge, she KNOWS and she has known for a long time. Enough to the point where perhaps she deserves a villain arc (then a redeemed villain arc) with the help of Captain Hook, who sees this opportunity to manipulate her for his gain.

Ok so jumping, let's go back to that Captain Jake issue. I personally didn't like Season 4, I thought it was shit BUT this new Captain Jake in a reboot could bring up an interesting little angst point called, "The pressure of being forced to be THE responsible one when you're only still a child." You might have all these other well-established Captains around you but, they depend on you to think of ideas, and come up with solutions to save the day, if you fail then it's on you but you're only 8 or 10 years old!!! A user mentioned this before but Jake could develop an entirely new personality as a Captain to make himself seem smarter and more capable than he actually is! This can go two ways A) he burns out and he burns out REAL bad and rather fast. B) The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and the realization of how much power he holds makes him realize he can almost do whatever he wants because he IS the 2nd most powerful person after Peter. This then comes his Power-tripping arc and the consequences of Peter not dividing this power between the trio, and being gassed up everyone, which raises his ego through the roof. This can only end badly obv and it does, how? idk but just know it does.

As for Captain Hook, because this is New Disney he can't be 100% back to his OG self but he can absolutely be raised to be more of an asshole in a Disney channel show and probably a bit fucked up. But you also would have to thread carefully on how you do these things, because one wrong move and Disney will have you rewrite the whole thing and tone it down more than need be. I also think there would be more to explore with the kids and their dynamic with him, since they also would have more nuance to them. They could have more stakes with him, and could honestly do more messed up shit with them he could make them have an inner conflict, he could manipulate one to join his side temporarily. Put the kids in more life-threatening situations that they don't come out unscathed from. Hell, you know what, I want him to win some episodes and get his way with Jake and his crew being powerless to stop it. It would teach a lesson that some days, you just can't win, someone who is nasty will win and get away with it and you have to be ok with that! (if you have resourced all your options first) Life will not always go your way. As for him and Red Jessica, show a toxic relationship, I mean come on do you REALLY think she has a thing for hook lol, it was shoehorned Hetero-shipping bait and it worked now can we do something else with it? As for smee, sharky and bones? I guess they can be less friendly to the sea pups, it would be more of a loyalty thing rather than a personal thing.

Also, the show could bring back the lost boys, to make the island seem less empty than it is, and maybe a different set of kids to replace the Native Americans.

Finally, to end this word vomit, the relationship between the kids. I really beg it be explored more. Now don't get me wrong they can have a wholesome and loving bond but not everything has to be peachy-keen. Like sure Jake is their captain but do they, not envy or resent him in some way? For example, they're all bright but Izzy is shown to be the brightest she has more knowledge about Neverland and its artifacts, so why is she not captain? Is it because she isn't naive enough? She isn't as nice or forgiving as Jake? She has no issue snapping at you when she's fed up? Then there's cubby, does he even have the real guts to be cut up for this type of thing? The classic "why him and not me?" type of deal. Then there's Cubby, does he hate being just stuck as coconut boy by his peers and other pirates? Will he ever break out of his shell, does he have a breaking point with his friends? Then Jake gets annoyed that they're not as in sync as they once were, he kinda hates that they're developing on their own and steadily gaining more and more independence. They're willing to talk back to him, be rude, and do less trio activities. Which leads to more conflicting ideas, possibly fights, and less "what I say goes!". He is scared of them changing and becoming their own individuals, he's scared that they might be growing up.

Sorry this is so so so long and rambly, I just have a lot to say about a reboot for this show that I cannot help myself.

#I also think it could be a bit more horror adjacent. specifically cosmic-eldritch horror #*monster too! #but as you can see I’m v passionate about a reboot for this show #it has potential if Disney is willing to experiment and be unsafe! #will it? maaaaybe..? #jake and the neverland pirates #jatnp #ask #also I will get your other post I promise!!

[bonefall]

So way back in the day on the original Warriors website, there was an area where you could submit questions about the series that the Erin's would answer and then post the question and answers on a FAQ page. Someone asked about prefixes that the Clans don't use because they're considered sacred, and the answer had been iterations of Moon-, Star-, or the Clan names themselves, so Sky-, Shadow-, etc.

Obviously this isn't true for canon anymore, if it ever actually was (citing here: lack of continuity between the Erins) but I'm curious to know if your AU has any prefixes that the Clan's absolutely refuse to use for one reason or another? Whether they be sacred or maybe they're considered "cursed", like perhaps a particularly evil cat has tarnished the prefix forever. (Such as the lack of Maple- prefixes in canon books post-Mapleshade! Maybe not intentional, but a cool world-building detail nonetheless!)

Stemming from that, do you think any prefixes would/could be turned into insults/curses later on down the line? Basically, what's the culture like for names? My favorite part of Warriors has always been the names, and the Erin's had such a nice thing going until it was tossed out the window. The system you use with Clanmew and all is super neat and I'd love to know more about Clan naming traditions! Also how each leader names cats - idk if it was you or someone else that I follow, but I saw a post talking about how each leader has a distinct way to name their warriors.

(Also small fun fact while on the subject of names, a friend of mine submitted a question asking about who Bluestar's parents were, and the answer was Duskflower and Stormtail. This was a few years before Bluestar's Prophecy was published, so she was very upset over them changing "Duskflower" to "Moonflower" when it did finally come out!)

The Duskflower thing is actually a misconception: What happened was that in a field guide, the Erins wrote that the name was "Moonflower," and then felt that "moon" should be sacred. That's when they started using "Duskflower," until Bluestar's Prophecy came out and they agreed with the editors that the older information should take precedence

(Rare anti-retcon win)

But anyway I have no banned or sacred names! I don't like that concept! Possibly because I am from an old fandom era of 'traditional namers' that just used it as an excuse to bully people and have bad taste. Hawkfrost's name ROCKS MY SOCKS and they all died mad while I'm still here.

My rules with namings is that EVERYTHING must make sense in-universe. So I don't like lyrical naming very much... names like "Friendlyface" or "Empyreanmist" are funny, but I don't see how a kitten would end up with those names unless every cat in their Clan stopped taking their lives seriously

(Or are in WarriorClan. BB!WarriorClan renamings are going to look WILD)

That also means ecologically invalid names get cut or end up being translation quirks. Names like Cypress, Olive, Myrtle, etc.

I don't ban "insult" names either, but I do rule that they are typically ShadowClan. They have a very dark sense of humor.

And yes I am the one with leader naming styles! So far these are the styles:

Bramblestar: terrible. Doesn't consider names beforehand, often comes up with titles that are awkward or unimpressive

Harestar: Reverant and thoughtful, tries to name based on friendships, interests, and quirks.

Mistystar: Names litters according to 'themes,' often sharing suffixes or picking similar ones.

Brokenstar: Only ever gives "cool" names with deadly and strong connotations.

Firestar: Names awkwardly, but genuinely. Surprises his Clan constantly with banger names (Lionblaze) or shockingly uncomfortable ones (Brambleclaw).

Onestar: Names practically, trying to limit suffix repeats and tonguetwisters.

So on.

#Better bones au #Bone babble

[murahel]

I shall try to articulate my thoughts on Soundwave (ending, at least) after reading the 2005 IDW issues he was in. More specifically, the whole "believer" thing with Optimus Prime.

So, from what I've read, Soundwave doesn't strike me as the most important character of the whole continuity. Like, you've got Megatron changing sides, Shockwave's time-travelling, Starscream becomes Cybertron's ruler (*shocked*). Soundwave's just tryna do his thing with the True Decepticon WayTM, peace and all when there's no one else (of the commanding Decepticons) left.

Then he gets blackmailed by Optimus (damn bro seriously) and has to follow him into battle and then he sees him rise a Titan with just a word. (Also the whole thing where he reads a human's mind and finally sees them as equals? Looked a lot more solemn on Pinterest but I'm glad I still read it myself.)

And from this point, to me, Optimus and Soundwave have the same goal. Soundwave always believed and wanted all Cybertronians to be equals, and now he thinks so of all sentient lifeforms. Like Optimus.

You know the Autobots give me "yeah that'd be neat" vibes when they talk about equality (although I may not have read enough issues about them). They're like that cuz they're good guys, you know? They follow Optimus cuz sure, he's the Prime, he's the Autobot leader, but he's also their friend. Soundwave feels more like a vow.

And I think it's interesting he's the only one with Prime against Sentinel Prime (or whoever that truly was in the end in White Heat), even if I'm sure Sentinel was like "nope nope Arcee nope don't want to die". Sentinel calls Soundwave "a believer" (true believer? It's only been 12h and I'm already forgetting things) and just. He's a Decepticon. They've been at each other's throat for millenias. We're not talking about a goody-two-shoes Autobot who's always been on Optimus' side, or any bot who's not aligned. Soundwave wants the Prime title out the window in his quest of equality, and there he is a believer. A believer in the one true Prime.

And in the end sure, there are lots of bots who bring Optimus to defeat Unicron, Arcee first. Alive and dead ones. But I can't get over the fact that it's the faith of Soundwave that gave him the last boost he needed.

Idk I just think he's neat.

BUT OH MY GOD WHY DOES HE KEEP DYING—

#tf posts #idk I just feel like there's something here #don't pay attention to my tired ramblings #tf idw #tf soundwave #soundwave #transformers comics #transformers #transformers idw #optimus prime #arcee #shockwave #megatron #tf ravage #rip ravage

[neet-elite]

im really delirious on pain meds atm so that's why i've been absent haha but i wanted to ramble a little about potential future plans for the game im making/ why here instead of the blog? because they're dream scenarios that might not come to fruition and i dont wanna let anyone down by posting abt them on the main game blog at @degenerate-game. anyway,

i wanna implement a phone system, where you can text and call NPC's, as well as receive random text and calls FROM NPC's throughout days. i want there to be special conditions met for specific texts and images, for example: have a love interest high enough and they might try to convince you to skip work by sending you nudes, begging for you to come and "help" them >:D

ID cards that contain the PC's stats, relationships, etc. i wanna make chibi versions of all the character creator items so that it reflects perfectly on whatever you choose. maybe also ID cards that you can collect from all the love interests with special info? there's gonna be an inventory system so it's possible :D

gods. i wanna create a detailed religious system that involve many gods, and eventually have them be romanceable too after tedious worship and offerings. maybe also tie specific gods to specific love interests? something about gods. want to allow the PC to pick a god (or none at all!) to provide offerings to for... something. like benefits, idk, i just thought of this today so it's not fleshed out at all lmao.

and somewhat related to gods: titles. i want there to be in game PC titles related to what you end up doing in the game. Mimi the Newbie for example of the begginer one? idk i also just thought of this today too, but gods would have titles like "God of Tradition". the PC could have something like: Dog of Lucas, if they decide to go Lucas's route. i dunno i just think it'd be a neat detail to at a glance see what route you're going down from the title.

little windows into rooms on the playable screen that have clickable areas to them. Rather than always clicking links to progress, it could be cool to for example… go to work as a barista, and click on the coffee machine to start work, or the door to leave, and maybe a love interest shows up while you're working and you can click on them to have an event or something.

#💭ramble #hums #im also working on an angel sketch sheet when i can foxus #but this post took me like an hour to write lmao #im so sick and on so many pain meds #they make me sleepy hehe #also my friends bday package came today! #with a bday card and a sweater her mom knit for me #and my favourite treat that only gets sold where she lives #i cant wait to send another package back to her <3 #rlly picked my mood up today despite my pain :D!