The Nail Polish Fic Was Too Cute !! I Loved It, You Perfectly Wrote Bakugo’s Character 😂💓

And you deserve so many more!! Congrats on the milestone, and I can’t wait to see you meet so many more🥳🥳💜💜

Y’all….

I can’t freaking believe this.

Freaking 50 followers… I absolutely cannot believe this would happen to me. At first I had hoped that I would at least get like 20 or something but I did not expect 50

Thank you guys so much!! I’m honestly so happy at this moment and I want to cry cuz each and everyone of you are amazing for going out of your way to follow me, a stupid teenager with a dream. Thank yall so much TwT

I would tag each and everyone of you to show my appreciation but I have no idea if yall would be ok with that so I wont

But I’m going to tag my friends lol

@pswaney12 @oreosmama @nakochan @bloodyphoenix

Could you write something nsfw maybe breeding for Sokka?

Baby Fever (Sokka x Reader) (NSFW)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You were great with kids, and it just so happens that your husband Sokka wants to give you a few of his own. 

A/N: Aight y’all, someone finally gave me permission and I went off. Seriously, hope you enjoy this cuz 👉👈 it’s a lil dirty🥺. Lemme just say goodbye to a few followers cuz I know they ain’t stickin’ around after this😑. Anyways, enjoy!

Warnings: Pure smut, breeding kink, dirty talk, unprotected vaginal sex, (slight??) cum play

Word count: 3228

        Giggles erupted from the corner of the ice building Sokka stood near. Whooshes and crashes of water split through the air while he waited for you to finish your daily waterbending lessons with the youth of the Water Tribe. 

        “Now, boys and girls, let’s work on streaming the water,” he couldn’t help but move into view around the cold wall, leaning against it and watching you with a small smile. “First, find your source. It can be the ice, the water under the ice, or the water in the fountain.” 

        You waited with all the patience in the world as the seven ten-year-olds around you dashed towards their chosen sources, often pushing past each other to get there. It was only when an older boy pushed down a smaller, younger female waterbender that you interfered with their competitiveness. 

        “Kole,” you gasped, kneeling down on the ice to help the girl to her feet, “apologize this instant!” 

        The little boy, black hair in disarray and a sneer on his lips, only stuck out his tongue before grumbling, “She was in my way first.”

        By now, the girl was crying as you hugged her to your side, running your hand through her hair comfortingly. “Shh, it’s okay,” you hummed before glancing back up to the Kole with a fire in your eyes. “Kole?” 

        Sokka knew that tone and raised brow of yours from personal experience; it meant stop what you’re doing before I kick your ass to Timbuktu. 

        The submission was instant; in seconds, the little boy was scuffing the feet in front of the girl, mumbling an apology while avoiding eye contact. 

        “Kole?” you repeated, this time more insistently. He understood right away and offered his arms in a hug, as per tradition in your class of waterbending. It was a dangerous art where people often got hurt simply during training, and you had learned early on that a hug along with an apology was key to showing that their desire for forgiveness was sincere. 

        As per usual, the little girl accepted, they split away without another word, and you were able to continue on your lessons. 

        In all honesty, Sokka admired the way you handled the children. Back when he used to travel the world with the Gaang, it wasn’t completely uncommon to see rather abusive benders trying to pass on their wisdom to the younger generation. They would ignore when students became hostile and aggressive toward one another, but you, meanwhile, allowed none of that. 

        You were always patient with the kids, and only raised your voice purely for audible purposes. Not once had Sokka seen a child actually glare at you and mean it. 

        “Hey,” you smiled, shaking Sokka out of his thoughts. You joined him against the icy wall and leaned back, staring at your students alongside your husband. 

        “Hey,” he grinned back, looping an arm around your waist and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I saw that little altercation earlier. Why didn’t you just let ‘em duke it out?”

        You snorted and batted him on the arm, ignoring his surprised squawk. “If I let them ‘duke it out,’ then I have to deal with scraped knees and bloody noses. Trust me, I don’t wanna hear those cries and you don’t wanna hear me complain about those cries.” 

       Both of your gazes are drawn back to the class, and just beyond you catch a glimpse of the sky. 

        “Ooh, hold on, let me dismiss them and we can go home.” You pat Sokka’s arm before jogging back to the students. 

        “All right guys, let’s talk about homework!”

                                ===

        The walk home is silent as the moon just barely settles into the sky. Stars twinkle alongside it amongst the black beyond and you curl into your husband’s side more, enjoying the view. 

        Meanwhile, Sokka’s gaze is locked on your face. He just couldn’t shake off the thought of you with those kids. 

        Of course, it never bothered him before, and it didn’t really “bother” him now. If anything, he just kept letting the same thought run through his head over and over again. 

        She would be so wonderful with our children. 

        The thought of you surrounded by little YNs and Sokkas was enough to have his grip around your shoulder tighten. 

        “What’s wrong?” you ask, pulling away just as the view of your home crested in the distance. You took one look at his face and knew he was thinking more than he could handle. 

        “I just…” he purses his lips and grabs your hand, leading you closer to your guys’s hut. “Hold on. Let’s talk about this in private.”

        In an instant, you were tense, watching with slight fear as Sokka fumbled to open the door. Is he breaking up with me? Why? I thought we were happy together…. 

        You sit when he gestures you to, tentatively leaning back onto the living room sofa while Sokka sits on the coffee table across from you. The air in your part of the room is bitter, but his half seems to be sizzling with excitement and uncertainty. 

        “YN,” Sokka finally pipes up, snatching the hands from your laps and intertwining them with his, “what do you think about… um…”

        Playing the waiting game was so much worse than taking the news straight. All bush, no beating. “Well?”

        Your voice is surprisingly impatient but level, but it only serves to worsen the situation as your lover begins to fiddle with your fingers. Oh, come onnnn.

        “Spit it out, Sokka!” That pushes him to act, and in seconds, he’s got your hands turning purple with his nervous grip. 

        “Y-YN, have you ever thought about having kids? W-With me, I mean.” 

        The words, or rather the insinuation of them has you biting your tongue, holding back a surprised hum. You know the noise would only serve to have Sokka sprint out the door, scared to ever look you in the eyes again, so you refrain from even changing your facial expression. He was always so terrible at reading them. 

        “Honestly Sokka? No.” He visibly deflates, but you continue before he can scram. “But I must admit I’m not against the idea. Of course, they’ll probably be little troublemakers, but I think we could handle their— well, I could handle their rowdiness, I’m not so sure you have the- what? What’s wrong?”

        There’s this look in his eyes. It’s not angry, or nervous. It’s not even happy or hopeful. 

        No, it’s… hungrier than that. There’s a hint of desperation tinging his brown orbs that has the pit of your stomach tightening with heat. 

        “Can we try now, then?”

                                ===

        Clothing is strewn everywhere, Sokka having been in such a state of pure eagerness that he hadn’t even moved you to the bedroom. Your back is flush against the carpeted floor, the pattern imprinting itself in your skin as you grip the underside of the couch. 

        His teeth and lips are everywhere, biting and sucking where he can to mark you as his. Your other hand grips the leg of the coffee table, it’s solidity making you feel somewhat grounded as Sokka draws whatever sounds he can out of you with just his touch. 

        “Gonna fill you so much, baby,” Sokka grunts against your throat, thrusting into your thigh at the whine you give off. “You’ll be so beautiful, so full of my children.” 

        “Yes- nghh,” you choke out, hips involuntarily pushing up at his touch. His fingers— oh Goddd— drag your panties down and away from your legs, but they don’t go far. Sokka drops them onto the coffee table you hold onto for dear life before he returns his attention to you, dragging a single, long finger up and down your slit. 

        “Look at this pussy,” he smirks, pressing his other hand on your hip to keep you from squirming. “Dripping wet just for me. You want my cum, don’t you baby?” His grip is bruising and through your fluttering lashes, you can see his muscles straining to keep you in place. The indent and outline of every muscle he’s grown into over the years has your core clenching, tightening around nothing. 

        “Mmhmm- OH!” The sudden press of his fingertip against your swollen bud has you shaking, trying desperately to get away from the delicious, almost painful touch. “Ah fuck!” 

        Sokka eats those naughty sounds from your throat right up, smirking against the skin of your neck before he trails down, down, down to your chest, latching right onto a nipple without warning. 

        “Mmmfuckkk.” At this point, you’re fairly certain the things leaving your mouth aren’t even words. Your brain can barely form a coherent thought thanks to the harsh circles Sokka rubs into your bud, abusing and abusing the bundle of nerves without a care in the world. 

        Screaming at the pain-fueled pleasure, you dig your heels into Sokka’s back, pressing him closer even though you know your body can barely handle the sensations. 

        With a dirty pop, Sokka pulled away from your rosy nipple, pressing a kiss to the tip before transferring to the other. This one must have been his favorite, because you don’t even get a warning before his teeth are nipping, teasing the tender skin while he hums in delight. 

        “Oh FUCK, please Sokka!” you hiss out, hands leaving the couch support and the table leg only to dig into his hair. Somewhere along the way, his hair tie must have broken because you dig your hands freely into the dark strands that hang by his ears, tugging and pulling in a desperate attempt to tether yourself to reality. “Please.”

        “Please what, baby?” he teases, pulling away and leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses up your body to your lips. “What do you want? Use your words, babe.” His smirk brushes your mouth with every word before he captures your bottom lip between his. By now, the finger kneading into your clit has turned into a thumb, and you gasp at the feeling of his middle and ring finger filling you up. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

        “Please fuck me, Sokka. Fill me with you cum,” you plead, hips bucking against the rapid movement between your thighs. The pace he’s set with his hand is nothing compared to what he has in mind, flashing you a shit-eating grin.

        “Of course, babe, your wish is my command.” Too soon, his fingers have left your aching core abandoned, the only thing staying behind is the thumb on your bundle of nerves, slowing its pace to draw out your pleasure. 

        The hand previously on your hip lands right next to your head, fingers flexing against the carpet as he directs his length to your womanhood. After Sokka leans back to watch his actions, you turn your head and press a kiss to his bare wrist. You don’t see it, but he smiles at the contact. 

        And then you feel it. The stretch. Sokka’s burying himself inside you, deep, deep, deep all the way to the hilt. The burn of it is only lessened by the slow patterns on your bundle of nerves, leaving you gasping. All the air in your lungs escapes in a hot second as you whine, mouth open to form an “oh” as your lover’s length opens you so deliciously.

        The dull ache loses out completely to the pleasure when he begins thrusting, driving, pounding into you at a speed that has your head lolling. 

        “Yeah, that’s right,” he grits out, “take it baby. Fuck, you take me so well.” Each word is accentuated with a harsh plunge of himself deeper into your tight heat. The high-pitched moans you let out only urge him on, feeding into the ego that fuels his dirty mouth. “Take it all. You’re gonna look so pretty with my kids inside you.”

        He sets a pace that you’re almost positive is going to leave your back with a rug burn in the morning. Every time that coil deep in your stomach tightens, every time you clench around him as he delves back into your throbbing core, the force of it all pushes you away. He can only keep you in place by returning your thighs back around his waist; they had fallen away when he first thrusted inside you, your body almost going limp at the quick wave of pleasure. 

        “This little pussy takes me so well. Can’t wait to fill it with my load,” he grunts out, hissing at the burn of your wandering fingers against his scalp. Using your grip, you tug him back down, pressing his forehead against yours and arching your back at a particularly deep stroke against your walls. The hand busying itself against your burning clit falls away to slide under you at the opportunity, pressing your heaving chest against his just to feel more of you, all of you against him. 

        “Ahhhh shit, harder Sokka!” Breathy moans fall from your lips faster than you can take them in, and you don’t notice your hands in his hair have transferred to digging into his back until he groans at the contact. As usual, he obeys your every need, ramming into you harder than you thought possible. 

        Every time he bottoms out effortlessly inside you, you’re jolted back and forth. The heat slowly building inside you is at its edge, ready to burst with just a little more. “Yes, Sokka, more! More! Fuck, you feel so good!”

        The praise spurs him on as the loud slapping of his skin against your own fills the hut, growing into an unsettled pattern as he quickens, pushing into your tight walls as fast as they can take him. “Fuck yeah, YN. Let me pump this tight little hole full of my cum. Let me see you holding my kids like you should be.”

        At his words, you feel yourself fall over the edge, throbbing and clenching around his length without warning. The scream of his name at your release helps him let go too. Plunging himself as far as he can go, Sokka stops inside your quivering core only at his limit, letting himself fill you up as much as you can take. 

        It’s warm, so warm as he releases, face dripping sweat as it scrunches up in concentration,  and it’s only when he pulls out that you realize how much he has given you. You mewl at the feeling of it dribbling, allowing your legs to drop to the floor like your hands at the sides of your head. “Oh fuck,” you sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as Sokka leans away, shifting backwards on the carpet to watch your still-pulsing hole as it leaks. 

        You don’t acknowledge what your lover’s doing until it’s too late and you moan at the too-soon intrusion. “Sokka-”

        “Shh, relax baby,” he soothes, collecting the combined remnants of yours and his release with two fingers, pushing it back in far enough that he’s sure it’ll stay. “You’ll look so pretty with our child in your stomach. Just hold it in, baby. Keep it inside.” 

        When his hand accidentally brushes your overstimulated bundle of nerves is when you try to squirm away, only to be stopped by his hands on your ankles tugging your bottom flush against his knees. “Sokka…” you trail off in surprise when he actually pulls your lower body up on the lowest part of his thighs.

        You never knew he was so serious about having children. Of course, you wanted it too, but seeing the childlike excitement in his eyes as he allows gravity to do its work clues you in that you had underestimated him a bit. 

        “Hold it in, baby,” he repeats quietly, snagging your panties off the coffee table and sliding them back up your legs. In an instant, they’re damp with both of your releases, but he still presses the fabric against your slit like it would somehow seal the combination inside you. 

        Your heart warms when he gently lowers your bottom half to the ground, grabbing your wrists and pulling you flush against him in a hug. Your back, just as you had assumed, is rubbed raw and sore from the carpet below, but suddenly the twinges of pain are more bearable when Sokka massages the skin with gentle hands. 

        Your arms wind around his neck, leading to your fingers delving into his knotted hair as he grins into your shoulder, pressing slow kisses against the skin. 

        “God, I really, really hope that worked,” he mumbles excitedly, hands dropping down to wrap your legs around his midsection. 

        “Me too,” you giggle, holding on for dear life when he stands and carries you to the bedroom. Kicking the door shut, he totes you all the way to the mattress. The cold fur of the bear pelt serving as your blanket is a stark contrast to the hot carpet of your living room. It soothes your back as Sokka reassumes a position over you, hair hanging in his face as he settles on his knees between your thighs. 

        “So how soon can we find out?” he asks, pushing your body up far enough that he can lay completely flat on top of you and not leave any limbs hanging off the bed.

        “Mmm, I’m not sure. I think Katara said she found out after about two months.”

        “Damn.” Sokka curses as he nuzzles into your skin, sighing at the sensation of you untangling his dark strands with tender fingers. “That long?”

        “Maybe more, maybe less. Pretty sure every pregnancy is different.” Your slow combing through his knots stops when he lifts his head, flashing you a bright grin. “What?” you giggle in confusion. 

        “Pregnancy, babe. You could literally be pregnant with our child right now.” Between your thighs, he’s practically vibrating with excitement, hand slipping out from under you to brush against your stomach. 

        “Okay, okay,” you laugh, pushing his hand away and rolling your eyes. “I know for sure it doesn’t happen that fast.” 

        “Oh really?” he raises a brow.

        “Yep.”

        “You’re sure?”

        “One-hundred percent.”

        “Well then,” Sokka taps his chin in thought, “why don’t we do something while we wait?”

        “Like what?”

        “Oh, I don’t know,” his darkening gaze darts down to your bare chest, only covered in a single love bite right in the valley of your breasts. It dashes back up just as quickly, but the damage is done; pupils enlarged, you can already feel him getting excited all over again. “Maybe we should… try again. Just in case it didn’t work the first time.”

        You’re still sore from the first round, but a couple wandering fingers already gliding down to your thighs once more leaves your first answer in the dust.

        “Sure, why not,” you shrug.

        “HELL YEAH!” Sokka thanks you with a swift kiss on your nose. “Now let’s make some babies!”

Just Playing Twister (Todoroki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: You guys were just playing a game of Twister. Midoriya knew that. They’re always just playing a game of Twister… right?

A/N: Just looked up the dorm room layout and my whole story got shot to hell, but I don’t care. We’ll just say they changed rooms or something. Hope you like it!

Word count: 608

       “I don’t bend that way!” 

       It was nine o’clock at night and all the little green broccoli wanted to do was study peacefully. Sadly, that plan was thrown out the window when you and your boyfriend Todoroki began to make a racket no different from two rhinos hopping on a Pogo stick next door. Midoriya had seen enough movies and TV shows to know it was just a game of Twister, but you two had been going at it for a while now, and you had grown a tad too loud for his liking. Your voices even sounded exhausted, so he was wondering why neither of you had thrown in the towel at this point. Alas, the game continued, and Midoriya now sat at his desk, rubbing his temples tiredly and listening to ear-raping music through his headphones. 

       It was never enough. 

       “My legs are shaking!” Then just forfeit!

       “Don’t lose it now, baby, keep going.” Come on, Todoroki, whose side are you on?

       Midoriya, groaning in frustration, rips away from his desk and the deafening music and collapses on his bed. Using the pillow behind his head, he covers his ears and prays it was the magical cure he’s been searching for. 

       “Ow, fuck Shouto, move your hand.” Dammit.

       “I’m already there. Just one more round, YN.” You’ve won enough times, dude, just STOP. 

       But you never did. The game just kept going and going. Midoriya finally stood up, walked over to the wall, and just, you know, tap tap. The family-fun game is put on pause for a second and silence ensues. The All-Might disciple victoriously fist pumps the air before hopping back to his desk. No one had ever been so happy to return to homework before, until…

       “That spot is mine. Only mine.” Well shit, Todoroki, there’s about six other circles the exact same color so why don’t you calm it? Midoriya cringed over how serious his dichromatic friend sounded. The dorm next door was treating Twister like all life on Earth depended on the game to survive. It wasn’t that thrilling, right?

       “The floor is too hard for this.” I heard that happens after playing for AN HOUR. Have you considered, gee I don’t know, stopping?!

       “We might need a new mat.” What the hell, how do you do that?

       All right, enough was enough. This wholesome, age-appropriate game needed to end right now. Midoriya stood from his desk and exited his room with a determined face. He appreciates your guys’ good-natured competitiveness, but not when it lasts for two hours. Who has that kind of stamina?

       Midoriya knocked on your door angrily before barging in.

       “Okay, you two need to stop playing right n- OH MY GOD!”

                               ###

       Midoriya squeaked when he saw you enter the classroom with your hot and cold boyfriend attached to your hip. He ducked his head like nobody’s business and proceeded to observe his desk like the eighth wonder of the world. The poor hero-in-training couldn’t bear to look the two of you in the eyes. Ever. Again. The blooming mark on his nose from where you had thrown a pillow at him also stood as a stern reminder to never speak of what he had seen either. 

        It wasn’t a game of Twister.

He Wants You to Sit on His Lap (BNHA Headcanons)

*GIFs not mine*

A/N: yall...it’s been a while hasn’t it? I hope you’re all doing well, and maybe this is weird, but I’m really glad you guys are reading and enjoying my stuff💜 I do want to post more, I really do, but right now it seems like all that will come out is headcanons. I don’t know what the future holds!!! BUT--perhaps we shall call the next few weeks… wait for it... headcanon season (dun dun dun). Anyways, enjoy!

Word count: 1288

Kirishima Eijirou:

“YNNNN”

First he draws out your name.

“YNNNNNN please!”

Then it’s the nicknames. 

Pumpkin, sweetcheeks, babygirl, princess.

One time he even says “lover” but after a fierce glare and a not-so verbal tirade, he decided it was best to leave that one for the bedroom.

Once you make it past the first phase of whining and bitching, he moves onto his second, more convincing tactic.

Those goddamn puppy dog eyes

You’d think a manly man like Kirishima would refuse to stoop so low

Oh how wrong you are.

His bottom lip juts out and you can just see the smallest glimpse of his razor sharp fangs looking more pg-rated than ever as he pouts at you. 

And once you look, you can’t go back. Like Medusa, he’ll have you stone-solid, unable to look anywhere else but into those eyes that make guilt pool in the pit of your stomach. 

A little glimmer in his eyes once he knows he has you hooked as your glare falters. 

And then

“...please?”

Damn him. And his muscular thighs under yours. And his immovable arms wrapped around your waist. But most of all…

Damn that fanged smile of victory. 

Kaminari Denki:

Oh yeah. He’s gonna annoy the hell out of you. 

Not so much like Kirishima with the pet names--as he’s certainly been on the receiving end of a vicious punch one too many times

(should have known “sugar tits” wasn’t gonna fly with you)

--but more so with the puppy dog eyes. Quickly, he realizes that is quite ineffective on you--or, perhaps it is just ineffective for him

Either way, as previously mentioned, Kaminari will beg for you to sit on his lap until your ears bleed. 

One time he even short-circuited your headphones when you tried to block him out. A risky move, indeed, but somehow he didn’t manage to fry every one of your brain cells. 

“YN!”

“Hey! Hey! YNNNN!”

“Hey YN, come sit on my lap!”

“Come onnnn, I promise I won’t do anything!”

“Okay, maybe I will, but I promise it won’t be anything you won’t enjoy!”

He was great at annoying you, and, to be honest, it worked most days. However, there are always those few exceptions where he truly just… gets under your skin. 

“No, Denki! Now, let it go!” The words explode from your lips like a popped balloon, and in seconds you know you’ve made a mistake. 

Hindsight, days like these almost always happen during your time of the month (yeah, yeah, TMI, I know), and that of course was part of the reason you were apprehensive about sitting on his lap.

But, shit, even the most heartless of people would give in to those misting eyes. 

He’d go silent, glancing away with a small nod and an “okay” you could barely hear over a pin dropping. 

And your heart climbs up your throat when that easy smile of his doesn’t return in seconds. 

Give in. Always, always give in to a sad Kaminari. 

“YN, you don’t have to-”

“Shut up,” you grumble, wrapping your arms just a bit tighter around his shoulders as you drop your face to his neck. 

He stays silent. But, naturally, that’s just not Kaminari’s style. In seconds, you feel his normal grin return as his hands slither down your back, reaching just to where your body meets his lap. 

“I told you,” he squeezes the muscle, “this was the best position for a butt massage.”

Fuckin’ perv. 

Todoroki Shouto:

Ha

Pfft.

Pft. 

Yeah right

Like you’re strong enough to deny this man that one time in his life he actually asks you to sit on his lap. 

Don’t kid yourself. 

“YN?”

“Hmm?”

There’s a hint of pink on his cheeks as his hands nervously run up and down his thighs. But buried deep, deep in his heterochromic eyes, so deep even you couldn’t see it, there’s a touch of mischief. 

“Can you sit on my-”

Fuck yes.

“Fuck yes.”

In the blink of an eye, you’ve settled yourself into his lap like it was your own personal throne.

(If you had told him those exact words, he would have shown you another one)

His hands, shaking at first, settle on your shoulders, then on your hips, until finally he skittishly sets them palms-down on the cushion of the couch. 

After a minute, he finally acknowledges your look of confusion and shrugs a shoulder. 

“I don’t know what to do with them.”

Good lord.

Glancing at the ceiling for just a second, you take a deep breath for patience before grabbing his hands and wrapping them around your abdomen. 

“Put them here,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze and making a move to spin on his lap and press your back against his chest.

Except--

“Fuck.”

You freeze, not moving an inch (which seemed to be complete irony considering his situation). 

“Don’t move like that.”

Ha

Pfft.

Pft.

He shouldn’t kid himself. 

Of course you were going to move like that. 

And now, you were going to move like that all night long.

Midoriya Izuku:

Not in a million years will this boy ask you to sit on his lap. Even if you told him to ask you, he’d still burn brighter than a tomato before stumbling out an excuse and sprinting away. 

But you knew. 

After a while of being together, you began to see his ticks. His little hints that he wanted you to come closer. 

And then just a little closer. 

And then so close that you were practically (literally) sitting right on top of him. 

Yeah, you knew his ticks. Midoriya is a shy boy, if not a boy who refrains from asking things of others that may or may not cause them to go even slightly out of their way to help him. 

But you knew. 

Interestingly enough, when he wants you to sit on his lap, it’s not anything major. 

First, he licks his lips. Not in an “I wanna taste you” kind of way--more like a “Hey, you got any spare Chapstick?” kind of way.

Then his hands will twitch. And he’ll lean back in his seat and stare at you.

*at your thighs

And finally, his legs will stop bouncing (because, really, when do they ever do that?)

His mouth will open and close repeatedly like a fish, almost like he’s trying to say your name but he’s suddenly forgotten how to speak. 

It’s awkward looking, really, and it certainly did take you a while to learn exactly why the hell he was looking at you so. 

But then--hallelujah--it finally clicked. 

And then you’d rise from your seat, make your way over to him, and plop down into his lap, ruffling his hair and pressing small kisses to the freckles dotting his cheeks. 

“If you wanted me to sit on your lap, you should’ve just said so,” you grin. A small whirl of contentment conjures in your chest when he rubs his hands up and down your sides.

It takes him a minute to summon the words he so desperately wants to say, and as that time passes, he peppers his own kisses along your chin.

Then they come to him.

“Thank you, baby.”

The Bigger the Hoop (Terushima x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Terushima’s got your heart held in his hands. And your earrings stuck in his ears.

A/N: It was soft and cracky at first, but then it grew serious, so idk. I kinda like it, and I hope y’all do too! Btw, thank you so much for the support recently, it makes me happier every single day!

Word count: 1812

        “Yuuji, I’m back!” You shut the door to your house and kick off your shoes, ready to relax the night away with a fun movie and a hot boyfriend by your side. His response to you is unsettling, however. 

       “You’re not supposed to be home yet!” What? Your brows furrow at the words and you set down the DVD you had bought for the night. 

       “What’s that supposed to mean?” He doesn’t answer. The rest of the house is dim and the only visible light is coming from under your door, so you follow it. Ever so curious, you sneak your way up the stairs, cringing at every creak that occurs. 

       “Get out of me!” You can hear Terushima’s panicked whispers from inside your room. “Get out, get out, get out!” Oh god, was he cheating on you or something? In your own house? What a jerk! 

       “Terushima?! What are you doing?” You feel betrayed, but you needed proof before you could smack the shit out of him. He used to always flirt with other girls before he chose you. I should have known.

       “I’m busy! Don’t come in!” Anger flooded through you. Now he didn’t even want you in your own room. You’re crossing the line, mister. 

       “What are you doing, Terushima?” Your shout echoes throughout the house and you slam open your bedroom door. And there, not here, there, he sits. Your blond, erratic boyfriend is slumped in the center of your bed, looking winded and terrified all at the same time. That wasn’t what caught your attention. It was his ears.

       “Umm… nothing?” He nervously smiles at you before looking away, lowering his hands from the hoop earrings currently stuck in his pierced lobes. 

       “Pshh, damn baby you look good!” You burst out in laughter, watching the blush on your boyfriend’s face grow.

       “Shut up!” He’s embarrassed, and that’s a new look for the playboy. Instinctively his hands slink back up to the hoops caught in his ears, hiding them from sight. Your giggles grow into breathless squeaks at this point, no different from the mating call of a desperate hyena. 

       “Ohhh my God, you are the cutest hoe on this side of the block! How much?” You collapse onto the bed next to him and he doesn’t hesitate to vengefully poke you in the side. You yelp at the tickle it causes.

       “Sixty-nine bucks. Plus tips,” he miserably quips, standing up to look in the mirror on your wall. “Now help me get these stupid things out of me.” 

       “Hey wait a minute, hold on now. If it’s Barbie dress-up time, we gotta get the whole garb together-” 

       “Hush it.” He glares at you playfully before pulling at the silver circles with twitching fingers. You chuckle and hop off your mattress, coming to his rescue. 

       “I’m just saying I have some heels in my closet too if you wanna-”

       “Shut up!” You snicker before swatting his hands away, inspecting the issue. 

       “Please tell me you at least cleaned them before you put them on.” Your squint at the swollen piercing before giving a swift tug.

       “Of cou- OW SON OF A BITCH-rse I did, I’m not an idiot.” While stepping closer and redirecting his head closer to the light on your ceiling, you give him a doubting look. “I’m not always an idiot.” He corrects himself while rolling his eyes. Your triumphant chuckles are swapped out for a silent gasp when his hands land on your hips. Terushima raises his brows while his signature smirk grows. His thumbs lift your shirt little by little and caress the soft skin of your waist.

       “You like that?” he whispers, leaning closer to your burning form. You nervously clear your throat and return to the task at hand. 

       “Of course I do. What I don’t like is the inevitable sacrifice my butter will have to make to unwedge my hoops from your ears.” His confidence never dies that easily, but his smug look drops and he pulls back slightly. It’s a small win for now. “What were you even doing anyway?”

       “I was trying to….” His voice trails off into mumbles while he finds interest in your dirty carpet. 

       “What was that?”

       “I wanted to…” he murmurs too quietly to hear once again. 

       “Excuse me?” You tug on the earring to grab his attention and he hisses at the sensation. His hands grip harder at your sides. 

       “I wanted to see what I would look like! You know… with them in.” His brown eyes strike through your own as he shyly awaits your response. 

       “And the verdict is…?”

       His eyes glow proudly. “You have the sexiest boyfriend on the street.” The hotshot arrogantly simpers at you and you smile back before rubbing your nose against his. 

       “Yeah, I noticed.” You stick out your tongue at him before worming out of his grip and leaving your room. His heavy steps trail after you.

       “Aww, no need to be jealous, baby.” Terushima’s reassurances are less than helpful, “I only got my eyes on you.” 

       “Good.” The sincerity in your usually-playful tone halts him in his steps.

       “YN, I’m serious. You know that, right?” He grabs your hand and draws your attention to him just as you open the fridge door. A blast of chilled air ruffles the single blond tuft hanging down on his forehead and it almost makes you forget what you were doing. 

       “You want Tillamook or Country Crock?” You turn back to the refrigerator dismissively. 

       “YN-”

       “This one’s fat free-”

       “YN!” Two hands urge you to face him, both rough but tender against your cheeks. His eyes capture yours and he bites his lip apprehensively. 

       “Do you think we should melt them-” He pulls you into a bear hug and squeezes the sarcasm right out of you. Man, I was saving that up, too. 

       “Hug me back, coward.” There’s no room for argument, not that you wanted to resist anyway. You squeeze him back even tighter and fend off the burn in your eyes by pressing your face into his neck. Who knew you needed a hug so bad?

       “YN, what’s wrong?” His arms slither around your back and his fingers crawl up into your scalp, scratching back and forth comfortingly. 

       “I’m scared.” Oh shit, tears. 

       “Why?”

       “You hold my emotions in your hands.” Your fingers dig into his back harder. 

       “I won’t hurt you.” 

       “I know.” Your throat grows tighter. “But I’m still scared.”

       “Why?” He repeats. His chin digs into your shoulder with every syllable, but you don’t mind. 

       “This is new for me. You’re new for me.” This was your first relationship ever, and it was with one of the most flirtatious, attractive, panty-dropping guys at Johzenji. He was dangerous. 

       “I won’t hurt you. You’re new for me too.” Your heart skips a beat before running a marathon, and you pull back for a split second. It was the same racing that occurred when you had heard him alone in your room. In that moment, you had been so afraid. Your heart had constricted the moment his voice worriedly spoke. Your chest had grown tight and you couldn’t breathe. It hurt to think he could hurt you, and that he held that power in that moment. But now, after his confession, you were both in the same boat, floating on trust alone. Your heartbeat quickens at his words this time not from fear, but from anticipation.

       “My emotions for you,” his timid tone draws you back into reality. “They’re just like, really strong and that’s kinda new for me, and umm....” He’s grown shy and scared, mumbling like a nervous trainwreck. You understand the feeling and gently pat his back to regain his attention. 

       “I know. I feel the same.” You smile comfortingly at him, and the world that had been fading around you both returns in an instant. Your back is cold while your entire front is on fire. Why… “Oh shit, the fridge!” You whip around and slam the door, the mood temporarily dampened by your outburst. Terushima snickers at your panic until you return your gaze to him. His eyes darken and he bites his lip seductively. 

       “Do you want to-”

       “I still have to get those earrings out of your ears.”

       “Right, right. Priorities.” The swelling around the hoops is now an unsettling bright yellow. 

       “What the hell did you do, by the way?”

       “I may or may not have not washed them-”

       “You said you did!”

       “I panicked!” You groan and shake your head at him. The butter in the fridge is just awaiting its fate, and as you bring it over to him, freshly melted, your boyfriend has the gall to speak up once more. 

       “So why were you so scared when you busted into your room? You looked about ready to bust a crime there, copper.” He raises a brow while nervously leaning away from the steaming bowl, only for you to tug him back forcefully. 

       “I was- STOP MOVING- I was scared you were cheating on me.” You shrug at your own blatant admission. Although the fear of him actually cheating on you one day is still present, the loving looks he keeps serving you even though you might just burn his ear off any second is making you soft. 

       “In your own house?!” 

       “That’s what I thought!” Terushima laughs and you catch a glimpse of his tongue piercing. Damn. 

       “OW!” Oops.

       “Sorry.” You hastily pull back the scalding dish of melted butter and tug at the earring, whooping victoriously when it slides out. “Got it!” 

       “Holy shit, that hurt like a-”

       “Next!” You push his head into the table and turn it to view the other ear. Totally ignored, he grumbles under his breath.

       “Just be careful this time, damn.” You “mhm” distractedly and peek your tongue out of the corner of your mouth in concentration. “By the way, you know I would never hurt you that way, right-”

       “I know, I know. But it’s just hard to believe that when you’re, you know, you.” 

       He scoffs. “And who exactly is ‘me’?” 

       “A player,” you respond simply before completing the same task but with faster, more experienced hands this round. Terushima’s silent in thought, and only whimpers once when it happens. 

       “I’m not like that anymore. Not with you. You know that, right?” 

       “Uh huh, sure.” You inspect his earlobes before grabbing a couple ice cubes and pressing them to the swelled piercings.

       “What do you mean ‘sure’?!” 

       “Hey, I’m just saying, the bigger the hoop, you know?” You mockingly dangle the silver earrings in front of his face with a playful sneer.

       “Oh come on!”

I'm so sorry it took me so long to finally read the second part. Again, I'm on my knees for desperate and in love Gaz. To have a man half as devoted as Gaz is would be a DREAM

ahhhh you're all good I just posted the final part and am mentally and emotionally exhausted...

...which means he is wonderfully whiny and needy all over again. I'm actually considering posting the blurbs i have left over from my idea doc for this fic but we'll see how this last part gets received first😬

but I'm so glad you enjoyed the second part!!🥹

Jsjsisjsisjsis I just want to know the reason why you are so underrated 😩🥺 LIKE SJSHSKS YOUR WRITING IS SO PERFECT I preach it ngl 😾❤️

Gonna give you all the love and support I have for you 😭😭✨✨✨

I love you and your writing style!! It’s so detailed and serene to me while I read it 😌

DUDDDDEEE YOURE MAKING ME BLUSH STOPPPP🥰🥰🥰

Thank you so much for the kind words! Really, I never expected even this much support when I started, so to get comments from such nice people is like a dream come true right now🥺💜 I’m so happy you like what I write and how I write, and I look forward to writing more now that I’ve seen this comment😚 thank you💜💜

Guppy Love (Todoroki x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: Fish don’t survive in coffee. You find that out the hard way.

A/N: My God, I love this one so much. Please enjoy!

Word count: 1486

        “Man, you are whipped for her!” Todoroki rolls his eyes at the statement. 

        “No, I’m not.”

        “You liar, you totally like YN!” Kaminari pokes his classmate’s arm obnoxiously. 

        “I don’t like her, so stop going around saying that,” Todoroki monotonously responded. 

        The class froze at the sound of a crash and a scream in the hallway. Suddenly, Mina bursts breathlessly into the room, her eyes wide with terror.

        “Yn fell in the hallway and-”

        Todoroki’s hand bursts into flames on his desk, leaving burns in the wood. 

        “Is she okay?!” He doesn’t wait for an answer before pushing past Mina and sprinting out into the hall. 

        “YN!”

        He finds you collapsed on your knees in the middle of the corridor with puffy eyes and red cheeks.

        “I dropped the fish tank.” You sniffle and shyly hold up a filled coffee cup with an orange creature floating ominously at the surface. “I don’t think Mr. Bubbles is gonna make it.” Your voice is tight with sadness as you stare ashamed into the overflowing cup. 

        “Yn, I’m so sorry.”

        “Can you make some water for him or something?” Your eyes glowed with hope as you stared up at him. 

        “I don’t think-”

        “Please?” Todoroki sighs and gives in, taking a seat next to you on the ground and cupping his hands. In the one, he creates ice, and then proceeds to use the other to melt it. 

        With his fingers clumped tightly together to form a makeshift bowl of water, Todoroki tries not to grimace at the slimy texture of the fish you plop into his hand. 

        Mr. Bubbles doesn’t move. 

        “Maybe he’s just sleeping,” you say hopefully, your eyes locked on the guppy. 

        “Maybe he’s dead.” Todoroki observes your face for a reaction, but you simply bite your lip with drying eyes. 

        “Maybe you’re right,” you mutter before groaning and dropping your face into your hands. Todoroki shifts uncomfortably and sneers at the dead fish floating in his grasp. 

        “What should we do?” you ask. Todoroki’s eyes trail to you before glancing at the nearby courtyard, then returning to your face once more. Catching his drift, you gasp dramatically. 

        “No, I am not leaving him for dead in the middle of the school yard!” 

        “He’s already dead.”

        “I don’t care!” After standing up, you help Todoroki to his feet and cross your arms indignantly. 

        “We should hold a funeral in the bathroom!” You smack your hands together as if you’ve just discovered the cure for cancer. “It’s genius! And tasteful!” 

        “Or we could leave some bird a generous meal in the school courtyard.” You give him a withering glare.

        “All those in favor of holding a memorial service for our beloved Mr. Bubbles, raise your hand.” You raise your hand at your own suggestion then ask, “All those opposed?” Todoroki narrows his eyes at you. Even if he tried to “oppose,” water and dead fish would spill everywhere. 

        “It seems we’ve come to a compromise.” You smile happily at him and clap excitedly. 

        “That was, in no way, a compromise.” The emotion of Todoroki’s face is emptier than a teenage boy’s search history, but you try to ignore how it still manages to make your heart race.

        “No matter! Follow me,” you announce, directing Todoroki to the nearest bathroom... it’s the women’s room.

        “YN no-“ you giddily shove him in with a little too much force and Mr. Bubbles goes on a once in a lifetime (or is it death time?) flight. You both watch in horror as he falls to the ground with a squelching “splat.”

        Nobody makes a sound, completely aghast at the crime scene. The bathroom is hauntingly silent except for the gentle buzzing of the fluorescent lights.

        “I’m not picking him up!” Todoroki mumbles and you shout at the same time, voices clashing noisily. Neither of you wanted to touch the corpse. Swiftly, you look over at your partner in crime and nod your head towards the fish once, twice, three times all the while he’s shaking his head.

        “No way, I already picked up that thing once. It’s your turn.”

        “Oh come on!”

        “Plus, you killed it.” You gasp offensively while he raises his brows. The staredown doesn’t last long and you eventually throw in the towel, pursing your lips and rolling your eyes. Shoes squeaking against the tile, you skulk your way over to the fish.

        “Fine.” Crouching low, you investigate Mr. Bubbles from multiple angles, trying to deduct the best method of transfer. 

        “He’s not just gonna flop himself in, you know.” You hurl a murderous look at Todoroki for the quip before reaching out with pinched fingers towards your flubby friend. 

        “God, this is a bloodbath,” you grimace before tentatively snagging a fin and holding back a gag at it’s slippery texture. 

        “Grossgrossgrossgrossgross,” you repeat all the way to the toilet, unceremoniously tossing Mr. Bubbles into the bowl like a sack of flour. “Oh my Godddd!” you choke out, darting over to the sink and almost slipping in the water puddle Todoroki left on the way. 

        While you clean your hands, your companion peers in at a floating Mr. Bubbles, blanching at the sight of the fish’s blank, bulging eye staring unblinkingly at him. He backs away slowly and you join him by his side, gulping nervously. 

        “Let’s get the party started, shall we?” you ask with a shaky smile. 

        “Sure” is Todoroki’s lame response. You scoff before clearing your throat.

        “Well, Mr. Bubbles, you lived a good, long life-”

        “About two weeks.”

        “And it’s a shame to see you go like this.”

        “Just to be clear, we know it wasn’t your fault-”

        “Zip it, Shouto!” You point a trembling finger at him threateningly and he raises his hands in surrender. 

        “Anyways, even though I tried my very best to save you-”

        “You scooped him into Aizawa’s coffee mug.”

        “It’s still a sad day to watch you go. We will always cherish the memories we shared with you-”

        “Yep, those two that we made. The one where we bought him for two bucks and the other where you overfed him and gave him fish diabetes-”

        “Do you know how it feels to be strangled? Because you’re about to find out.” Arms akimbo, you stare at Todoroki with fierce, wide eyes. He shrugs. “That’s what I thought,” you nodded. 

        As you ramble on to your beloved fish friend, Todoroki can’t help but zone out and think about the situation he has found himself in. For the first time in his life, he’s ditching a class in school, and it’s only to throw a funeral for an over-caffeinated guppy. With anyone else, he would have left twenty minutes ago, but right now he wanted to stay. You were here, and Todoroki never knew why, but he always felt drawn to your presence. He had only known you for two months, but something about you made him want to break down the walls he had built up over the years. You were different, and you valued every moment of life you had. He adored that about you.

        Geez, maybe he was whipped.

        The gentle beating in his chest soon rivaled that of a racing stampede of elephants when you scooted closer to him and rested your head on his shoulder. Your heart sped up too, but you didn’t care to mention it. Instead, you chose to release a shaky breath when his arm slowly encompassed your shoulders. 

        “Um,” you swallow, “did you want to say anything?” 

        Todoroki held in a snort. “No, I’m plenty good.” The room fell into silence once more, but the atmosphere wasn’t solemn for a dead fish funeral. It was tense and shy, filled with teenage anxiousness that only arose when two requited crushes were together in one room. Todoroki started to grow uncomfortable, though.

        “So are you gonna flush him or...?” he trails off.

        “Oh yeah.” You lick your lips nervously and step out of his warm embrace before pressing down the handle. “Goodbye Mr. Bubbles. We wish you well on your journey to the... I don’t know, water heavens or something.” You step away with a shrug back into Todoroki’s hold. All is peaceful, until....

        Clunk clunk.

        Oh crap.

        Both of you watch in horror as the toilet clogs, water rising higher and higher until it overflows, carrying the dead fish with it. Yours and Todoroki’s eyes follow the journey of Mr. Bubbles as he rides a wave all the way to the tips of your shoes, stopping perfectly to stare up at the two of you with vacant, enlarged pupils. 

        You sigh and smack your palm against your face. “I’ll go get the janitor.”

        “I told you we should’ve just hucked him.”

        “Shut it, Shouto.”

AYYY SO HAPPY TO SEE YOU BACK!! I hope your semester went well and you’re having an awesome holiday season!

YOOO IM GLAD TO BE BACK🤩 I missed this blog and everyone on it so damn much🤧

Semester and seasons are goin great my dude, I hope you’re doing great too!!💜

Petty Competition (Kageyama x Reader)

*GIF not mine*

Summary: After you get a new pet in your home, Kageyama can’t help but feel a little neglected after a while. It’s all Snickers’ fault.

A/N: Thank you all so much for 400 followers! I’m so glad so many people like my stuff! Here’s a funny little imagine I got an idea for from this prompt by @otpdisaster​ once again. I hope you guys like it! Thanks again!

Word count: 1078

        Kageyama has never been the best of friends with your new pet Snickers. 

        “Hey YN-”

        “Woof!” 

        “Shut the fuck up!”

        Snickers was an innocent golden retriever puppy, but your boyfriend just knew his father was Satan, and he was bred in the seventh depth of hell. 

        “Tobio, he hasn’t done anything, just leave him be,” you would scold before allowing the dog to shamble up into your lap. Innocent, my ass, Kageyama would think while watching you pet him. Ever since you got the dog, he took up all your attention, all your time. Well, on the other hand, it’s not like your boyfriend needed constant affection but… oh fuck it, who was he kidding. He was jealous over a damn puppy. 

        “He’s glaring at me, look!” Kageyama points an accusing finger and sneers at the dog, who returns the look before tucking its head back into your lap. With a raised brow, you shake your head at your boyfriend and scratch behind Snickers’ ears. 

        “Stop being so ridiculous, babe,” you roll your eyes before lowering your face to the inhabitant of your lap. “You’re not evil, are you?” You smile widely at the sight of his tail wagging rapidly while he pants in your face. “Oh no you’re not, no you’re not! You’re a good boy!”

        Kageyama narrows his eyes at the gut-churning scene before him and glances away with a scoff. The demon spawn currently reveling in all your love looks over and makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like snort all the while trying to lick your face. 

        “YN, did you hear that?!” Kageyama jumps up from his seat and waggles his finger at the pet, “That smug bastard just laughed at me!” You ignore him in favor of lifting your puppy in the air and hugging him close to your chest. The love fest currently happening on the sofa across from him lasts for quite a while, and your boyfriend can only stew in his own anger in the meantime. Then, finally he comes up with a distraction technique. It was perfect!

        “Love.” You perk up at the nickname. It’s only used on rare occasions, when Kageyama is nearly dying inside from a lack of affection. Right now, he feels pretty desperate. Desperate enough to whip out that trump card, at least. “How about we watch a movie, hmm?” His eyes are dark, and the synthetic smile on his face evokes a chill down your spine. 

        “Umm, okay,” you gulp and slowly set down your dog, who lightly whines at the action. Kageyama smirks, only chipping at the tip of the revenge iceberg. “What movie?” Your voice is tight, but you’re not exactly as nervous as you sound. He can tell by the way you bite your lip. 

        “You choose, love.” His whisper warms the pit of your stomach, and you nod as if in a trance. 

        “Okay,” you repeat, getting up and turning to leave the room. Snickers pops right up and begins to follow you, only for you to usher him back. 

        “Stay here, boy,” you pat the top of his soft, fuzzy head, “I’ll be quick.” With a smile at your dog and a blush at Kageyama’s parting wink, you exit your living room in search of the night’s entertainment. 

        Now, it wasn’t often that your boyfriend had a day off practice to spend the night with you, so he had to make every second count. A movie was the perfect opportunity to soak up all the love you could provide. At least, that always used to be the case before you adopted the leech. He couldn’t remember the last time you ran your fingers through his hair instead of Snickers’ while he relaxed on your lap. 

        “You’re not winning this,” he hisses at the snarling scoundrel on your carpet, lifting up out of his seat to reinforce his glare. 

        “Woof!” The dog bites back, plopping his rump down directly in front of Kageyama’s feet and staring back up at him with endless, black pupils. “Woof, woof!” 

        “Woof, yourself!” Kageyama barks back, baring his teeth threateningly. Snickers’ rears back on his paws and lifts his butt into the air, shaking his behind anxiously while he growls. 

        “Woof, woof!”

        “Woof, woof to you too!” The resident human in the room slips off his armchair and drops onto the ground, crossing his legs and engaging in a completely justified, but overall nonsensical, argument. 

        “Ruff!”

        “Ruff you, you furry fuck!” 

        Snickers huffs in his face and barks louder, splashing dog drool every which way. Kageyama gags at the feeling and frantically wipes it away while jeering at the sac of fur.

        “Eww! Gross, you lumpy bastard!”

        “Woof!” Snickers places his paws into the volleyball player’s lap and yelps in his face. In return, the boy bonks his forehead against the dog’s own and returns the shout. 

        Five minutes pass. Nothing changes. 

        “Ruff! Ruff, ruff!” the puppy rumbles. 

        “Right back at you, you son of a bitch!” Kageyama grumbles back, his tone deep and frustrated. He presses his face closer into Snickers’ soft snoot. “You fluffy-faced, attention-stealing piece of-”

        “What the hell are you two doing?” Both rivals stand at attention at the sound of your voice, separating and spinning to face you. Your face is scrunched up in utter confusion at the happenings on your living room floor. The skin under your eye twitches and a vein in your forehead pops. Snickers is the first to act, barking excitedly and hopping up to meet you. The joy is short-lived, as your beloved ball of fluff is flung back onto the sofa cushions as Kageyama scrambles up and tackles you in a tight squeeze.

        Tucking his face into your neck, he grumbles, “It all went to shit the second you wanted a dog.” You giggle and rub his toned back up and down, tensing when he presses a flurry small kisses to your collarbone. 

        “Oh c’mon, it looks like you two were bonding when I first came in-”

        “Never!”

        “Woof!”