Characters: Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Jason Todd, Damian Wayne, Bruce Wayne.
Synopsis: They are having a heated argument.
DICK GRAYSON
When his parents died, he grieved for a while, but eventually, he just... kept going. No regrets, no looking back.
He always managed to move on from bad things.
Or at least, that’s what he told himself while stuffing the candy you’d bought together onto the highest shelves — shoved all the way to the back where you wouldn’t notice them, even if you tried to reach.
That way, you’d have no choice but to talk to him.
He’d already lost count of how long you’d been ignoring him. The only thing he knew for sure was that he couldn’t stand sleeping alone.
Not again.
After the fight, he’d said maybe the two of you should take a breather. Cool off before things got worse.
So when he came back later, apology already rehearsed in his head, breakfast tray balanced carefully in his hands, he walked into the bedroom almost excited.
What Dick hadn’t expected was for you to take his words that seriously.
When he said take a breather, he meant maybe thirty minutes. An hour, tops. Just enough time to calm down before saying something unforgivable.
Not... whatever this was.
Not you refusing to talk to him altogether. Not sleeping on opposite sides of the bed. Not acting like the two of you were suddenly strangers trying to rethink your entire relationship.
The breakfast went untouched.
So did the small pout on his face.
You didn’t even let him sit beside you when he tried to talk.
He ended up sleeping on the couch.
The next day was fucking miserable. His mood was awful, and everyone in the manor could feel it hanging in the air.
Grayson didn’t act like this. Even with his half-assed “I’m fine,” it was obvious he was anything but.
And when he finally got back to the apartment that night, exhausted and emotionally wrung out, he went straight for the bed, practically collapsing on top of you like he needed the contact to survive.
You pushed at him weakly, nowhere near as firmly as you had the past few days.
He let out this quiet, bitter little laugh but still refused to let go.
“Baby, stop,” he mumbled softly.
Even when you tried to shove him off again, he just held you tighter, burying his face against your neck like he was starving for you.
“Please,” he whispered, completely drained.
JASON TODD
Jason could be such a fucking asshole sometimes — selfish, cold, always running his mouth before thinking twice. It was easier for him to let people hate him than let them get close enough to actually understand him.
Not that he acted that way around kids or women. Around them, he kept himself restrained. Distant. But the second he felt cornered — exposed in any way — those sharp looks and cruel words came out like second nature.
A defense mechanism. The only one he’d ever really had.
You knew that.
You knew about his mother leaving him behind like he was nothing. Knew how, for one brief moment, Bruce Wayne had made him feel wanted — safe — only for Jason to end up feeling abandoned all over again.
Trust didn’t come easy to him. Neither did vulnerability. Loving you probably scared the hell out of him.
So instead of fighting back, you swallowed the hurt along with your pride. You waved your hand dismissively, avoiding his eyes as you muttered a quiet, “Forget it,” before turning around and walking away.
And somehow, that felt worse.
Jason swallowed thickly as he watched you leave.
You didn’t yell at him.
Didn’t demand an apology.
Didn’t ask him to take back a single thing he’d said.
You just… left.
Like you were tired.
After everything he’d thrown at you, all you wanted was for him to forget it.
But he couldn’t.
Because after that, something changed.
You still talked to him. Still answered when he spoke. But there was distance in you now — something careful, almost detached — and Jason noticed every second of it.
It made his chest ache.
And, if he was being honest, it scared him enough to make him paranoid.
TIM DRAKE
This time, the fight started over something stupid.
You’d turned off Tim’s alarm so he could finally rest on his day off. In your head, it was a small act of care — something gentle.
Tim didn’t see it that way.
He had deadlines, reports, a million things waiting for him, and when he woke up hours later, disoriented and exhausted, the soft good morning kisses you pressed against his face quickly turned into frustration.
“No, because this isn’t about whether I should rest or not,” he snapped, shoving himself out of bed. “It’s about the fact that you don’t get to interfere with my work. You don’t get to decide when I stop.”
You frowned, trying not to react to the sharpness in his voice. “Tim, you hadn’t slept in two days.”
“Yeah? And just because you don’t have the same responsibilities I do doesn’t mean you get to make choices for me.”
The words hit harder than he intended.
Your expression changed immediately. Hurt. Shocked.
“Tim.”
But he was already too angry, too exhausted, too worked up to stop himself.
“Mind your own business, and I’ll mind mine.”
And after that, neither of you were exactly kind to each other.
The argument ended with Tim slamming the front door hard enough to shake the walls.
The second he got into the car, regret settled heavy in his chest.
Because Tim overthought everything.
Every failed relationship. Every mistake. Every moment where he’d been too distant, too busy, too emotionally unavailable. The thought looped endlessly in his head until he felt sick with it.
You’re ruining this too.
You’re going to lose them too.
By the time he sat down in front of his computer, he couldn’t focus on a single thing. His leg bounced anxiously under the desk while his mind tortured him with scenario after scenario of you getting tired of him. Leaving him. Finding someone softer. Easier to love.
Someone better.
The anger faded quickly, leaving behind only exhaustion and this horrible, crushing sadness.
So when he finally came home hours later, all that was left of his pride was exhaustion.
Quietly, almost nervously, Tim slipped into bed beside you.
He turned toward you carefully, watching your face in the dim light for a second with this small, hopeful look in his eyes. Like maybe if he stayed close enough, you’d roll over and pull him into your arms. Maybe you could both pretend the fight never happened until morning.
But you didn’t move.
You just turned your back to him.
And suddenly the room felt unbearably cold.
Tim bit down hard on his lip the second he felt tears gathering in his eyes, embarrassed by how fast they came. Still, he couldn’t stop them. They slid silently down his cheeks while he stared at your back, trying not to make a sound.
When you still didn’t turn around, the quiet sniffles eventually broke into shaky, uneven crying.
Because that was the moment it really hit him.
You weren’t going to comfort him this time.
Please.
Please kiss his swollen eyes and tell him you’re still here.
DAMIAN WAYNE
To everyone’s surprise, Damian Wayne was actually a good boyfriend.
It sounded absurd to anyone who only knew him from a distance. With the way he carried himself — sharp tongue, permanent scowl, an attitude that pushed people away before they could even try getting close — nobody expected him to be soft with someone he loved.
But he was.
Painfully so.
Damian was romantic in a way that caught you off guard. Quietly sentimental. The kind who noticed insignificant details you'd mentioned months before.
There was something unbearably delicate hidden beneath all that hostility.
And little by little, you had managed to reach it.
You peeled back every layer he tried so desperately to hide behind until you finally touched the vulnerable parts of him nobody else got to see.
At first, it felt like a victory.
Like warmth blooming inside your chest.
Being trusted by Damian Wayne felt sacred. Intimate. You thought you understood him now — the things he feared, the things he buried, the things he struggled to say out loud.
You were wrong.
Because somehow, Damian always found a way to shut you back out again.
One wrong moment, one careless outburst, and suddenly every wall you thought you’d broken down was standing taller than before.
You pressed your lips together tightly, forcing yourself not to say something impulsive.
The silence in his bedroom felt horrible.
Cold.
Suffocating.
“What’s wrong, Damian?”
He didn’t answer.
“Damian,” you tried again, irritation slipping into your voice this time.
The entire day had been fine. More than fine, actually. He’d left his classes early just to spend time with you. You’d gone out to eat together, watched a movie back at the manor, stayed curled up against each other for hours.
And then suddenly he changed.
Short answers.
Dismissive looks.
Ignoring you whenever you spoke.
The worst part was that he’d done it in front of your friends.
Having your boyfriend act cold and irritated toward you in front of your classmates was humiliating.
“I already told you. Nothing.”
“Then why are you talking to me like this?” you asked, frustration finally bubbling over. “If something upset you, how am I supposed to fix it if you won’t talk to me? We’re together, Damian. We’re supposed to work things out.”
He laughed quietly under his breath, but there was nothing amused about it.
“God, you’re irritating.”
You stared at him silently.
And there it was again.
That look.
Distant. Closed off. Like he’d shoved you outside the walls all over again.
“Do you genuinely believe something is wrong with me?” he asked mockingly. “I have far more important matters to deal with.”
Your chest tightened painfully.
“Fine.”
The second the word left your mouth, Damian hesitated.
Barely.
But you noticed it.
“What?” you asked flatly.
You grabbed your backpack from the floor and walked toward the door of his room.
Damian watched you the entire time without speaking.
Because what was he supposed to say?
That he hated how your friends interrupted the date the second things started feeling intimate? That it bothered him watching you laugh with them while he sat there feeling invisible? That he’d wanted your attention to himself for once?
It was supposed to be his time with you.
His moment.
The bedroom door shut softly behind you.
And suddenly the room felt unbearably empty.
Damian sat down at the edge of the bed slowly, his chest tightening with every passing second until it became difficult to breathe. His eyes burned.
You hadn’t even tried to stop him from pushing you away this time.
You just left.
Eventually, he collapsed face-first onto the mattress, burying himself beneath the blankets like hiding would somehow make the ache in his chest disappear.
He didn’t know how long he stayed there.
Minutes.
Maybe hours.
At some point, he grabbed his phone.
Your chat was still open.
Damian stared at your contact silently while his thumb hovered over the call button. His stomach twisted painfully with nerves.
Call them.
Don’t call them.
Call them.
Before he could think too hard about it, he pressed the button.
The ringing nearly made him sick.
Once.
Twice.
By the third ring, you answered.
“Hello?”
Damian froze.
Your voice was soft. Careful.
And suddenly, all at once, the anger drained out of him, leaving behind nothing but this awful ache in his chest.
He opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Because right then, curled up alone in his bed with tears stinging his eyes, Damian could only think one thing:
Who was he without you?
BRUCE WAYNE
Why are you arguing with this man? Leave the old man alone; he has enough problems already.
• I admit it, I just wanted to write about Tim being a whiny crybaby. oc tim (?
Also, as you know, I don't speak English and it's translated thanks to technology :) I've had this in drafts for months ()
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first time sex with boyfriend!clark, inspired by the bed breaking scene in twilight.
no use of y/n
warnings: MDNI, smut, protected p!v sexual intercourse, mating press (can't stop wont stop), soft smut, planned first time sex, bed breaking, clark's accidental immobilization of reader,, rough sex, overall awkwardness.
pairing: long-term boyfriend!clark x girlfriend!reader
summary: you'd been officially dating clark kent since the senior formal at smallville high, but you've been inlove with him since you found out what love was. after countless trials and tribulations, targeted attacks due to your boyfriends... extraterrestrial abilites, you are finally going to fuck your beautiful boyfriend!
You can't recall a time in your life where you had sweat this much. The baby hairs on your forehead feel like they've been merged to the soft skin of your forehead like glue.
With your heartbeat going a thousand miles a minute, you are almost a hundred percent sure that if you glanced down at your chest, you would be able to physically see your beloved organ thumping in and out of your skin like a cartoon.
Soft groans leave your lips as you continue your mental and physical exertion. You glance over your apartment for the umpteenth time tonight, the soft glow or ten or so candles illuminating your space.
You take a deep breath in, the warm and comforting scent of vanilla and lemon drift through the air, tickling your senses. But having no amenity to your shaky nerves and sweaty palms.
It was meant to make the scene romantic, calming, so far it was doing an absolutely terrible job.
Off reflex, your eyes shift to the dusted-circular vintage styled clock that rests just above the crinkled cream paint of your wall.
The time 8:27 registers in your mind as you squint to read it, your mind recognizes that your boyfriend should grace the frame of your front door any minute now.
Almost as if on key, the familiar sound turning and clicking of the metal keyhole, bounces off the drywall of your living room. This is what you’ve been waiting for.
He’s home.
You watch as the door shoots open, all 6 feet and 4 inches of your beloved corn-fed farmalien farmboy stand in your shared doorway.
He stands and stares at you, hand still on his key in the door, as his eyes slowly register your figure in front of him.
As you stand in the middle of your living room, all shaved, and lathered in your favourite body oils and lotions, wearing the nightgown you had bought as a gag. The thin midnight blue colored silk, sit gracefully on your skin.
The now well-known sign for hope, placed just above your right breast.
Your nipples peak through the material in excitement of the anticipated events of tonight.
He only ever bought you the nightgown because it felt like a little joke between you too. But now, as he stands in the door way, frozen at the sight of you, accidentally squeezing the key in his hand into nothing but a metal rod with his bare hands, he curses himself. He curses the version of himself that just so happened to wander into the mall on an extra long lunch break. The version of himself who caught the familiar crest out of the corner of his eye and thought,
“Huh… maybe she’d like this.”
Because if it weren’t for him, he wouldn’t be standing in front of you, slack jawed, like an idiot. With a raging hard on at the sight of you.
Your eyes drift away from his shocked facial expression, down to the crushed key in his bare hand, then lower, to the ever so prominent bulge in his khaki colored “reporter pants.”
Your audible “gulp” is what breaks the silence between the two of you, for you at least. Clark heard your wet heat slide against the matching blue lace panties you chose to wear, when you glanced down at his pants.
He had never heard something so profound before, he didn’t even know he could do that. He decides to make a mental note for later, to focus on the sound of his co-
“Y-yeah?” He tries, his voice coming out to quiet on his first attempt, obviously because of you.
You shift on your feet before addressing him again, taking just a moment to push down the thoughts of fear that swarmed in your mind like a heavy blizzard.
“Are you gonna come inside or just stand there?” you say the words carefully, a quiet fear festers deep in your mind that he might superspeed away the next time you blink.
“Ah- yes, yeah im, yeah of course”
He takes a moment before responding, then shakes his head at himself once he realizes how silly he must look right now.
This isn't like the two of you.
Well it is like him to be skittish and awkward but it's not like you. You too had a cycle, he would be his normal awkward clumsy farm raised self, and you’d tease him for it.
You wish that you could find it in yourself to crack this sexual tension with a joke. But everytime you try to will your mind towards forming an actual thought, your eyes drfit back down to your Clarks… area. Leaving you speechless.
You had seen it before, of course you had. Like just last week when an artificially intelligent supervillain beat Clark half way into the ground, just when the sun set.
You can still feel the void of fear that burrowed in your heart at the sight of your superman, bleeding into your new cream colored carpet. And of course you had seen it when the lust eventually overtook the both of you, encouraging you to parktake in… other things.
Not sex though, never sex. Until tonight that is.
You slowly moved towards your boyfriend until your chests were touching, and you could feel his rock hard chest against your peaked breasts. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you crane you head up a little, to gaze into those deep blue eyes of his. The only thing that has succeeded for the past something-teen years, in consistently calming your nerves.
You’d always found comfort in Clark. The hint of fresh wheat, layered under a sea of cedarwood sent that had followed him around since primary school. Or the way his eyes bored into yours now, like it looked hard enough, he could see into your mind and reveal what thoughts bubbled in your head.
Taking a deep breath in, you feel the calm that you only ever feel with him. Whether they were calming you before your first fourth grade clarinet assembly, or breathing air into your lungs before you propose your next wild story to your boss. Whatever it was, you would be fine, because you had Clark, your Clark.
“Are you still sure about this? Because I'm not sure I know how to control my powers during uh, I could hurt you.” He speaks in the same tone you spoke to him in earlier, like he’s scared he’ll scare you away. Your thighs subconsciously clench at the thought of being able to make Clark feel so good, he’s unable to control himself.
Now it's your turn to calm him down.
“Clark?”
He sighs before replying, feeling his fears now more than ever. “Yeah?”
“We’ll be fine, you won't hurt me. We've dealt with worse than this.” You joke, feeling his tightly wound muscles release some tension under your soft fingertips.
Clark brings his hand up under your chin, tilting it up towards him at the same he just barely leans over to connect your lips.
You sigh into him, the taste of coffee and a a Clark Kent flood your senses as the two of you try to remove each other's clothes, without disconnecting from each other.
Your mind feels like mush by the time you feel him back you up into the wall, kissing you deeper now, both of his large hands gracing the sides of your jaw.
By the time you blindly stumble into your bedroom, knocking over several items on your way, you are finally out of air. Pulling your face away from Clarks, to pull as much air into your lungs as possible, you give his face a look over again. His lips are flushed with a pinky tint that bleeds into his neck, an effect tended to have on him whenever you kiss like this.
Clark takes this break as an opportunity to set you down horizontally on your shared bed, impatiently ripping the buttons off his shirt in order to remove it before moving to connect your lips again.
He glides his tongue along your bottom lip, silently asking for access which you grant him by opening your mouth a little wider.
He trails his mouth away from yours, planting messy, lusted kisses to the right corner of your mouth. He continues to travel, his mouth finding the sharp edge of your jaw, before moving over to the side of your neck, just beneath your ear.
Kissing and sucking repeatedly, with your mouth free of his, you moan and whimper into the open space of your bedroom.
The sounds encourage him to grind his clothed bulge over your pulsing, lace covered heat. He groans into the soft skin of your neck, the sensation feeling too good to withhold himself.
Forcing himself to pry his lips off of your neck, he lowers himself down to your lower body. Grabbing a hold of the flimsy fabric, pushing it up to your upper thighs, to reveal your matching underwear. He lets out a sound that is dangerously close to a whimper at the sight of you. Making you eager to see his face. When you drag yourself up to your elbows, giving you a good view of him, you carefully track his movements.
Watching as he hooks a thumb around the lacy fabric, the feeling of his finger against your sensitive skin causing you to shiver, he drags it down your freshly shaved legs.
The sight of your bare cunt rendered his thoughts void. Forgetting what he was here to do, brings his hands to either side, and uses his thumbs to stretch your lower lips. The action gives him a clear view of you, he lets out a sigh of admiration.
Bringing his head closer, he plants a soft kiss against your aching bud, before licking a stripe down your middle, collecting your liquids in the process.
“C-Clark!” his action calls you to call out.
You watch as he brings his face away from you to meet your gaze.
“I’ve waited long enough! take your pants off please” You dont even recognise your tone as the words fly out of your mouth.
Lightly chuckling to himself, Clark leans off of you and begins to lower his own pants.
You take the time to pull the nightgown completely over your head, leaving you completely naked. By the time you had undressed your self, clark had aswell.
Okay, here we go, this is happening, you think to yourself, eyes trained on the length that sprang against your boyfriend's stomach upon release.
You watch him roll the condom over the glistening tip, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him pick up a condom, let alone open one.
Both of his large arms brace his body on the sides of your head, leaning down close enough for his dick to skim along your inner thigh. Your hips squirm at the action, Clark brings a hand from the side of your head and uses it to line his tip up with your entrance.
“Can- hm, Can I?” He asks, tone stumbling as he tries to get the words out.
Unable to speak, you nod quickly as a reply, eyes focused on the crinkle that forms when he draws his eyebrows together in seriousness.
You feel the stretch before anything else, the feeling causing you to wince. Upon hearing your discomfort, Clark stops immediately, dragging his gaze away from where you are connected and up to your eyes.
“Does that hurt? Should I stop?” His worried tone matching his equally worried expression as he speaks to you.
“No don’t, don’t stop” You squirm at the odd sensation, unsure as to why you feel like you need him to keep going, if the action was causing you pain.
Listening to you, he continues to push deeper inside of you, until the majority of his cock is buried in your warmth. The connection causes a strangled noise to leave both of you in synchronization.
“I’m gonna move now, is- are you-“
“Yeah, yes, please start moving baby” The words leave your mouth in a strangled plea and Clark obliges. Beginning to set a steady pace of moving his abnormally long length, in and out of you.
The once painful sensation quickly shifts into a pleasurable one. In response to this, your body squeezes Clark impossibly deeper inside of you.
Bringing his mouth up to kiss yours, Clark is interrupted by a moan that leaves him without his permission, the combined feelings overwhelming him.
“Fuckkk” He moans into your open mouth, burying his head in your neck as his thrust increases in pace.
Clark halts his movements, shifting the two of you into a new position. Before you can question, your knees are up to your chest and he is buried even deeper in you.
The new feeling causes you to moan loudly into his ear, with his cock moving in and out of you at an even faster rate and his base grinding against your sensitive bud, the combined sensations render your thoughts useless.
“you’re, really tight hnghh g-gosh…” he moans deeply into your skin
You couldn’t do anything if you wanted to. You've lost most feeling in your legs, because of his sheer body weight repeatedly crushing into you. Hitting so deep inside you, leaving you unable to form a sentence.
Shifting again, Clark grips the wooden pole bedframe, an attempt to stabilize himself. In his efforts, the bed crumbles on top of the both of you. Even then, his pace doesn’t let up for a second, just shifts. His large muscular frame protects you from debris, while also trapping you under his mercy.
“I- Shit, something- fuck somethings happening. I can’t” his tone worried once again, but his movements show no signs of stopping.
“it’s o-okay, you can come, I… I think i’m close too” You cut yourself off with a loud, pornographic moan, something you were sure you’d be embarrassed about if you could think right now.
Clark realizes that you don’t understand, and he isn’t sure how to tell you about the recognizable heat that is building behind his eyes as his climax approaches. He knows it’s coming, and he knows he should stop. He’ll, he should’ve stopped when the bed came down on both of you, but he can’t”
Pumping into you over and over, hitting that same spot inside you that makes you cry out, you feel yourself bubble over the edge. Crying out as you reach your climax, dragging Clark along with you.
Only this time is different, he’s never felt it like this. His heat vision continues to approach with his release, involuntarily shooting out his eyes as he releases his load into you. His hand shoots up to cover the flame releasing from him, vision obscured with a red heat haze and his hand, his heat vision flashing into his hand for the entire duration of his high.
He whimpers and groans in both pleasure and pain, just barely managing to shield you from the heat of his eyes. After his peak, he squeezes his eyes back shut, bringing both his pain and pleasure to a halt.
Both of you breathe heavily into the other, in disbelief of the events that just occurred. Not exactly how you had imagined it but you still wouldn’t trade it for the world.
“Did… did you just?” Your broken voice breaks the silence first.
Clark remains frozen, mortification from his lack of control and the fear of hurting you flood back into his mind as the sex haze over his mind lifts.
On instinct, he raises himself off of you, too quickly. The speed of which he removes himself from you causes a whimper to leave your lips, another thing he curses himself for.
“I am so sorry baby, I don’t, I didn’t even-“ He speaks hurriedly as he rolls the condom off of himself and throws it in the trash. You curl into yourself, weirdly unable to move your legs.
You groaned in response to his apology, you had meant to tell him that what had just happened was the best experience of your life but, unfortunately you couldn’t form that sentence.
Ever so carefully, he brings his hands underneath your knees and neck, slowly lifting you from the broken mess that used to be your bed. Nuzzling into his strong naked shoulder, you blink, and you're in your bathroom.
Dimly lit by candles you had set earlier, you wince as he sets you down on the side of your tub wall, the cold metal feeling uncomfortable on your sticky thighs.
“Clark..” you speak slowly
“Yeah baby?” he over at you from where his head is poked under your bathroom sink, gathering materials to clean you up.
“I cant even move my legs right now” You say with an undertone of amusement in your voice.
The two of you erupt in a soft fit of giggles as you both glance back into your bedroom, the room completely wrecked. Clark moves over to you, kneeling in between your thighs, resting both his hands on opposite sides of your knees.
“Okay seriously, did I hurt you?” He says, doing that thing he always does, looking through your eyes into your thoughts.
“Clark, that was…” you trail off, recapping the events of the night. Leaving your boyfriend in nervous anticipation. “It was?” he asks shakily, in fear that you’ll finally decide dating an alien is too weird for you.
“Fucking amazing, Clark.” You say with a soft laugh.
The corner of his lips tilt up in that familiar dorky little smile that you know so well. “Always so crude…” he says to himself, slowly beginning to clean the liquids off your inner thighs.
Dating Clark isn’t perfect, and it never will be. But you know two things for sure. Number one, is that Clark Kent, Kal-el, Superman, whoever he is… Is your forever.
The second thing you know for sure is, you definitely won’t be able to walk tomorrow.
PLEASE LIKE AND COMMENT, I DEEPLY APPRECIATE IT. FOLLOW FOR MORE.
You broke up clean. No names, no explanations, no closure. Now he’s back… Watching your stories, haunting your sidelines, asking questions he’s terrified to hear the answers to. You were never really done with him. And he was never strong enough to let you go.
4.6k words
Part of the ''Exes who cant stay away'' series
Toji
warnings: sub/switchy!plug!choso, ex!bf!choso, captain of a basketball team female!reader, fake non-chalant Choso, mentions of weed/ Choso smoking it, jerking him off, him fingering you, creampies, squirting, dick riding, car sex, desperate/ pathetic Choso, overstimulation, crying Choso, pussy drunk Choso, manhandling, boob sucking, choking
‘’So did you or did you not sleep with him?’’ he whispered, inches away from your face. You could feel his breath on you as he exhaled, the smoke of the weed he was smoking grazing your lips. Earlier that day, during basketball practice, your friends spoke about something interesting while stretching. Everyone seemed to be in a relationship or was getting there with someone. Finally, your last single friend announced she would finally confess her feelings to her crush. The whole team cheered her on before the conversation focused on you.
You had hoped they'd forget you. But no. Every day, every single day they'd ask you if you had finally met someone. All the asking and nagging drove you crazy but they just cared about you. They were concerned. Deep down all of them knew you weren't really over your mystery ex. They had never seen him, nor heard a name. You liked keeping your business to yourself. It got to a point they thought you had made him up or were schizophrenic. When you two broke up a few months ago, you arrived on the court, bawling your eyes out for hours. It seemed like you really liked him. So they backed off when you told them to drop the topic and get to work.
On the court, you felt free. The only thing on your mind was making points, throwing the ball, dunking it. You could turn off your brain and soul for a few moments. It was like your body was moving on auto pilot and your brain was on stand by. Like a breeze if fresh air on a hot summer day.
You loved it.
‘’Well done everyone!’’ you spoke when your coach gathered you all together. After going over the game plan for the next day, you guys were free to leave. And you were the first to run into the locker room. Your friends knew something was up with you. You were acting weird and secretive. Well, more than usual. Before changing, you stared at your phone, making sure you weren't running mad. Making sure you weren't seeing things before practice. You checked your phone and there it was. A message from him.
After you two had broken up, you hadn't attempted to reach out to him. He didn't either. Your pride was just too high. He was too. Well, that's what you kept on telling yourself. Now that you thought about it, you two had broken up out of the blue. Everything was perfect until it wasn't. And you couldn't tell anyone about your boyfriend. You didn't want to.
‘’I miss you'’ the message read. No greeting, no him asking you how you were doing, no checking up on you, just three words followed by him wishing you luck for your big game tomorrow.
Your heart started beating so fast you thought it would actually jump out of your chest. You shook your head, taking a deep breath, trying to recollect yourself. Now was not the time to let your facade crumble. And you really wanted to text him back. But after thinking about it, your emotions were high now. You had to calm down first. So you put your phone down and got changed.
‘’Oh, I know that look.’’ One of your friends said, slamming her locker shut, shooting you a teasing grin. ‘’Did your ex text you?’’
Witchcraft. It must have been witchcraft. How else would she know?
Suddenly, all your friends smirked at you, asking you all sorts of questions. But you didn't answer. They knew you'd tell them eventually so they just let it go. After getting changed, all of you decided to head to a diner nearby. After the practice session you had just had you needed the fuel. The energy.
Everything went great and you debated on texting him, telling him to leave you alone. But you decided to pay him no mind. Letting him back in couldn't be good. ‘’What's your crush like?’’ You asked.
Your friends were trying to come up with a plan to help your friend confess to the guy she was interested in. If you didn't know any better, you would think they were planning on helping her propose to him.
‘’I'm pretty sure all of you know him.’’ That sounded promising. ‘’He is a little shy, doesn't speak much.’’ Sounded like someone you knew, you thought to yourself and let out a sigh. ‘’Tall, black hair, piercings, tattoos…’’ This had to be a coincidence. A lot of people on campus had piercings, tattoos and happened to have black hair. ‘’Oh and he is the famous plug on campus.’’ No. No, no, no, no, no. God no. ‘’Choso Kamo.’’
You almost dropped the glass in your hand.choking on a sip of water. Your teammates slapped your upper back, trying to get you to calm down while you apologised. The world was so big. So big. Eight billion people on this god forsaken planet, and she managed to fall in love with your ex? You weren't mad, she didn't know after all. It still stung though. ‘’Oh, I heard he and his girlfriend broke up a few months ago. You should shoot your shot!’’ One friend encouraged. ‘’I don't know about that.’’ Another friend chimed in. ‘’Apparently, he isn't over his ex.’’ She huffed. ‘’He won't even look at other women.’’
Oh? That was news to you. Not that you'd complain about that. You tried your best hiding the grin trying to make its way on your face. It was starting to get dark and the place was packed with people.
And when the door opened for the nth time, another friend group entered, a friend group you knew too well. A tall guy with white hair and blue eyes and a shit eating grin plastered on his face stepped in, accompanied by a long haired guy with gauges and a blonde guy whose cheekbones could cut through stone rolling his eyes behind him. And you hoped… No, begged the Gods above that their fourth friend wouldn't show up.
But fate wasn't on your side today.
He stepped in right after them. Eyes low, wearing a tight fitted t-shirt that accentuated his muscles and small waist alongside a baggy pair of pants. Oh you were fucked.
Fucked, nervous, and throbbing.
You took a deep breath, turning away from the door, hoping they wouldn't notice you. But of course they did. Choso had sensed your presence the moment he stepped into the diner. Your voice, your scent, he could make them out in a crowd full of a million people. But he didn't look for you. He didn't want you to know he knew you were there. Because he knew you had seen him.
But hiding didn't go too well. Because when they walked past your table, Gojo happened. Greeting you, making a scene, telling you how much he missed seeing you. Admittedly, the other two men had missed you too. But they could read the room. As Choso was with them, you didn't want them acknowledging you. It was too late now.
‘’You know Choso?’’ Your friends asked, almost simultaneously.
‘’As you can see we have mutual friends. I have nothing to do with him.’’ You laughed it off but you could feel his gaze on you. And you were way too awkward to look at him right now. The situation itself stole at least fifteen years of your life.
‘’We won't bother you girls any further.’’ Geto smiled, giving you a quick side hug.‘’
Have a nice evening, and Y/n you can call us whenever.’’ Nanami followed suit with a hug. And then, Choso stood right in front of you. You gasped, looking up at him. And for the first time in months you were staring into his eyes. Smiling awkwardly, you gave him a hug before sitting down, trying not to die from embarrassment.
Then the questions came. How do you know them? Did Choso just hug you? It doesn't seem like you don't have anything to do with him. Are you friends? Are you embarrassed of him? Why? And so on.
At some point, hours later, you saw the group heading out. Then your phone vibrated. Another message from him reading ‘’Come outside’’. The audacity. He couldn't even say please. But you rolled your eyes, standing up and making an excuse about why you had to go out to take some fresh air now.
When you stepped out the four of them were talking, a blunt pressed in between Choso's lips. The second you stepped through the door his gaze was on you. You hated how good he was at not breaking eye contact. The other three guys upon noticing you, sneaked back in, giving you two some space. Brushing past you, Gojo winked. You wanted to hit him so badly.
Choso inhaled, letting the weed sit in his lungs before exhaling. All while still looking at you, not taking his eyes off you once. You on the other hand were avoiding his gaze. Then he stepped closer.
Taking one step. Two steps. Until he stood right in front of you. Now you had to look up at him. Into his eyes.
‘’’You doing okay?’'
Your breath hitched. You had gone months without speaking to him. Months without hearing his voice. Months without feeling his presence. And now here he was. You kept on replaying this exact scenario in your mind. Thinking of all the things you'd tell him once he stood in front of you. But now? Your brain was empty. Words caught up in your throat.
So you just nodded. He sighed contently, taking another puff of his joint, not taking his eyes off you once.
‘’I saw that guy in your story the other day.’’
‘’I thought I had blocked you.’’ You gulped, folding your arms in front of your chest.
‘’You thought wrong.’’
Silence.
Yes, you lied. You hadn't blocked him. You wanted him to see what you were up to. That you wouldn't put your life on hold just because you two broke up. You wouldn't be moping around because you didn't care. Or that's what you wanted him to believe at least.
‘’What do you want, Choso?’’ You sighed, breaking the silence.
For the first time tonight he looked away letting out a chuckle. ‘’We're back to first name basis, huh?’’
‘’I thought that's what exes do.’’ You tilted your head to the side slightly, taking one step towards him. He was trying to get to you, but you wouldn't let him.
‘’I thought we were different, baby.’’
You huffed. ‘’Not you acting all high and mighty, knowing you're one sweetheart away from folding.’’ He furrowed his brows and you smirked. He knew damn well you were right. One sweetheart and it was over for him. Well any type of attention from you was enough to get him going. You stepped a little closer, making his face turn red. That was the Choso you knew.
‘‘’Want some?’’ he offered you a puff of his joint, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, but you declined.
‘’You know I've got a game tomorrow.’’
‘’Right…’’
You cracked a smile, taking a few steps back, leaning against the wall. He walked up to you slowly, getting way too close for your mind to comprehend. But your heart knew what you wanted.
‘’So did you or did you not sleep with him?’’ he whispered, inches away from your face. You could feel his breath on you as he exhaled, the smoke of the weed he was smoking grazing your lips. Oh, he wanted to kiss you so badly, you could tell. His eyes were hazy, switching between gazing into your eyes and looking down at your plump, juicy lips.
The thing is, he had kissed your lips a million times already. And he had no idea if it was the weed making his brain all fuzzy, but they seemed to pull him right in.
You had bewitched him.
‘’Depends,’’ you muttered, wrapping your arms around his neck. ‘’You jealous?’’ You pulled him in, pressing soft kisses to his neck, taking your time to make him ache for you. When you sucked at the spot right beneath his ear, he let out a whimper, throwing his head back slightly to give you more access.
As your lips wandered to his chin, he let his blunt fall to the ground, stomping it out as his hands made their way to your hips. Within seconds, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a soft kiss that grew deeper by the second.
When you tried to pull away he wouldn't let you. Understandably. You two hadn't seen, held and kissed each other for months. He had been waiting for this. Craving you. Craving your lips on his, craving your hands wandering up and down his body, craving you whispering sweet nothings into his ears. Telling you how much you missed him. Telling you how much you missed his big, stupid, dick inside you-
‘’Choso.’’ You mumbled against his lips, finally managing to pull away to take a deep breath. ‘’You are spacing out.’’
‘’Stop calling me that...’’
You frowned. He didn't even blink at you. But he almost looked… Needy? Like he wanted to beg. Beg for you to stop calling him by his first name. Beg for you to call him anything… Sweetheart, darling, my love… Even Cho would do.
You cupped his face, lips mere inches from his, as you looked him right in the eyes. ‘’I missed you, Cho.’’
He was done for.
“Y-Y/n…’’ You pulled him into another kiss, this one more passionate than the other. On the one hand, you really hoped no one was watching you right now. But on the other hand you didn’t care. You pressed your leg between your thigh grazing against his crotch. ‘’Hngh-W-Wait!’’
There he was. Your easily flustered Choso. And would you look at that? He was hard. You pulled away again, staring up at his doe eyes, making it hard for you to focus on anything. Resting your hands on his chest, you let out a sigh. You'd hate yourself for what you were about to say.
‘’Let me go get my bag. Then we can get out of here.’’ Little did you know you'd barely make it to the car.
You headed inside and found yourself a little irritated when he followed you with a smirk on his face. Choso was quiet and observant when he was in public. So he definitely knew one of your friends had the hots for him. And he knew you hadn't told them about the both of you. So when you stepped through the door, with him walking behind you closely, you had to decide:
Come up with a lie that would make them question you for a few seconds, or tell them the truth. And after months of hiding and keeping your feelings to yourself, you chose the latter. Not the whole truth, they didn't need to know you two were making out just seconds prior to this conversation.
“I'm sorry I didn't tell you.’’ You muttered, but they laughed it off. They knew you'd tell them eventually. You just loved taking your sweet ass time when it came to important information.
So finally, your heart was at ease. You could leave with a calm and collected mind. And he followed after you closely again. When you reached your car, reaching out your hand to open the door, he stopped you. Pressing your back against the car door, arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into a kiss. He didn't hold back and you didn't either. He was hungry.
Hungry for your kisses, hungry for your touch, hungry for the sounds you made when he trailed hungry kisses down your neck, leaving marks on the way. His mind had been imagining holding you like this, kissing you like this for months now. And finally, he was here. With you in his arms, kissing him back. Your hands wandered down his body, one grabbing at his peck, making him mumble into the kiss, and the other moving down his abdomen, not skipping a beat as it made its way to his crotch painfully slow. Teasingly. Oh, he was hard and heavy, pulsing and throbbing in his pants.
‘’Looks like you might explode any minute,’’ you whispered between kisses.
‘’Certainly f-feels like it.’’ He muttered, pulling away. You could finally open the car door now. But not to the front seats. You were sure you wouldn't be able to make it home now. He was about to explode and you weren't far from losing your mind either. You were sure your panties were soaked. Drenched in your arousal.
He got in first and you followed suit, as he pulled you into his lap, closing the door behind you. Then his gaze fell on you again, hands placed on either side of your waist after he grabbed your arms and rested them around his neck. You loved when he looked at you like this. Like you hung up the stars and the moon. Totally mesmerised by you.
‘’You have the prettiest eye shape, you know?’’
You chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. ‘’That's so random.’’
‘’I missed you too,’’ he breathed out, an answer to your statement earlier when you were making out in front of the diner. Of course he did.
‘’Figures.’’ You whispered, pressing another kiss to his lips. ‘’You're rock hard.’’ Smirking, you started grinding your hips against his crotch subtly, making his breath hitched in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging into your flesh. Then you trailed kisses down his neck again, stopping at his Adam's apple digging your teeth into it softly. You wanted to leave a mark.
‘’F-Fuck…’’ he whispered underneath his breath. And you could feel him twitching beneath you. The self control he had was admirable. He didn't thrust up once. He didn't beg you to do something about it either. He knew how much you loved good boys.
And he wanted to be so good for you.
You removed his hands from his waist, unbuckling his pants. He helped you, tugging them down to his ankles as you took off your pants. His dick sprung free, slapping against his stomach. Then you cupped his face, pulling him into another kiss. One of your hands wandered down to his throbbing dick, gripping at his aching red tip, squeezing it tightly.
He gasped into your kiss and you sucked in anything he was about to say. You moved your hand up and down slowly, squeezing lightly at his base. But like the good boy he was, he didn't want to leave you unattended. So one of his arms reached behind you, making its way to your soppy cunt. And oh, you were warm, pussy drooling all over his thighs, making a mess even though he hadn't even touched you yet. The both of you were quite desperate. But no one could top Choso when it came to desperation.
He rubbed at your folds, making you moan into the kiss before he pushed a finger into you. Those thick, long fingers of his that used to have you shaking every other night. When he added another finger, you squeezed his tip before you started stroking again, painfully slow. He spread his fingers inside you, going in a scissor motion, trying to stretch you out for what was about to come.
By the time you increased the pace of your strokes on his dick, you could fit three fingers, whining into the kiss. It was hot. Too hot. So hot that his free hand reached out and crack open a window, letting the cool night air enveloped you.
‘’I,’’ he started, mumbling between kisses ‘’want to put it inside.’’
‘’Say please.’’
‘’P-Please…’’ No hesitation, no shame, just desperation on Choso's end. And you loved it. He pulled his fingers out of you as you raised your hips, positioning yourself right above his dick, sinking down slowly. You were so warm. So wet. Too much for Choso who hadn't even dared to look at another woman for the past few months.
Who hadn't dared to let another woman touch him. Let alone sit on his dick in the backseat of a car.
You were the only one he wanted to do it with. The only one he craved doing it with. And he wouldn't have it any other way.
‘’S-So warm and so-Fuck! W-Wet…’’ he whimpered when you finally bottomed out, walls clenching around his throbbing dick deliciously, waiting to get used to the familiar stretch. Choso was big and very humble about it. In the earlier stages of your relationship, he swore he was average, nothing special, nothing to drool over. And you always laughed about it because frankly, you didn't care about his size. You would be happy with whatever he could give you.
Too bad what he could give you resembled a fucking pipe. When you saw it the first time, wanting to suck him off after you two were done making out, you audibly gasped. And the audacity of his, asking you if it was enough, telling you he'd understand if you left, all while giving you that innocent look, batting his long eyelashes at you.
You started moving slowly, as he clung to you, arms on your waist, lips pressing kisses to your neck, biting you, leaving the occasional mark. He pulled up your shirt, alongside your bra, too lazy to struggle to unbuckle it now, revealing your chest. Before you knew it, his mouth latched on to one nipple, tongue swirling around it, mouth sucking on it, teeth grazing the sensitive nub as one of his hands pinched the other nipple.
The sensation went straight to your core, making you clench around him tightly. ‘’S-Stop clenching so tightly…’’ he muttered around your boob. From your point of view, it looked like he was trying to swallow it whole. He had always been a boob fanatic. Well, the only boobs he was obsessed with were yours. He was obsessed with everything about you.
‘’Stop p-playing with my chest then…’’ you muttered, trying to hold back a moan.
That did it for him.
Suddenly, he sucked on your titt. Hard. Both of his arms slung themselves around your waist, holding you closely, as he started thrusting up into you. Which caught you off guard. The first time he slammed up into you, you let out a moan, squeezing your eyes shut. The second time, you squealed, squeezing down on him again. ‘’Ch-Choso!’’ You groaned, nails digging into the back of his neck.
‘’Stop c-calling me that…’’ and he punctuated every word with a thrust of his hips. Fuck, he was driving you crazy. He had no idea what he was doing to you, turning your insides into mush while marking you up. “Ca-Call me… Literally a-anything else-Ngh!’’ He slammed you down on his dick, letting out something between a groan and a whimper. He was far gone already. As were you. The both of you had forgotten the cracked window. And to be honest, you didn't care about anything or anyone. Especially him. The only thing he was interested in was how often he could fill you up in this car.
When he bit into your chest, drawing a groan from you, you wrapped your hands around his neck, pushing him back against his seat. His eyes rolled back in his head. You had almost forgotten how much he loved getting choked by you. You pressed a kiss to his lips, pushing your tongue into his mouth as his grip on your hips loosened. He was close. So close he could feel his orgasm on the tip of his tongue. That and you cutting off his air circulation were driving him crazy. And you whispered into his ear, telling him he could come inside you, he lost it. Losing all his restraint. He let out a whimper, tongue lolling out of his mouth as he came deep inside you, panting your insides white.
Hot tears streamed down his face when you let go of his neck, coughing, trying to suck in some air. And you pressed soft kisses to his face, trying to calm him down. ‘’’You doing okay there, baby?’’ He twitched, taking a few ragged breaths as you kissed away his tears.
You were just about to get off him, when he buried his face into your chest, hugging you tightly. Then, thrust. A thrust into you, shaking up your walls. ‘’You d-didn't finish…’’ he muttered, sucking marks into your chest. And he built up his pace gradually, this time thrusting into you faster. He was still hard, throbbing inside you, making sure not a single drop of the load he had pumped into you would go to waste. ‘’I missed this s-sloppy pussy…’’ he whimpered, grinding his dick into you.
The windows of your car were all fogged up, his dick was digging into your insides. He pulled away momentarily, and made you lie back against the center console, grabbing your waist to fuck into you while he pressed a thumb to your clit.. ‘’Right there, Cho! Y-Yes!’’
‘’R-Right here, yeah?’’
You nodded haptically, loving the way he was fucking you. Loving the way he was rubbing your clit. ‘’I'm going to-'’ you were cut off by a whimper of your own, trying not to lose yourself. He pressed down on your lower stomach, making you feel him. Making you feel every inch of him slipping inside him. You wanted to scream, cream on his dick. Lose your mind.
And that's exactly what you did. You lost yourself in the feeling of his dick slamming into you. You were a total mess. And when the both of you came, you came hard. His thrust halted, stopping deep inside you as he continued rubbing your clit through your high. You moaned, screamed, whined his name as you squirted all over his dick, twitching like a mad woman. He pulled you in for a kiss you melted into, and you just stayed like that for a while.
Hugging each other, kissing each other with him still inside you, until you had to start moving. You got off him, letting his dick slip out of you gently, both of you letting out a groan at the loss of warmth.
‘’Fuck, I needed this.’’ You whispered, pressing your forehead against his.He looked at you.
‘’So… So you didn't sleep with that guy?’’
You chuckled, pulling on your pants, zipping your pair right up. ‘’Of course not, Cho.’’ Before you could head out of the door, he pulled you into another kiss.
You stepped out, rushing into the driver's seat while he stepped out, opened the door and sat down right next to you.
‘’You're going to have to get your car cleaned after the mess we just made.’’ He mumbled.
‘’You mean you are going to get this car cleaned.’’
He smiled, pressing a kiss to your cheek. And you headed straight to your place. You two missed out on a lot of quality time spent together. And you were sure there was a lot you two needed to talk about.
‘’Why didn't you tell us he was your ex?’’ The next day, you two showed up to your game together. After you two had talked… And fucked it out, you decided to give it another try. And after the game you had one, he came up to you, hugging you from behind.
‘’Boyfriend,’’ he muttered into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped around your waist from behind. ‘’I'm her boyfriend again.’’
Damn right he was. And this time, you wouldn't let him slip through your fingers.
Whenever you and Bakugou were separated for an extended period of time, Bakugou made sure to call you regularly to catch up as good best friends should. With how much you chatted his ear off, it was like you were never really apart (though it still pained him to not actually see you). These precious phone calls became so ordinary to Bakugou that he almost didn’t catch himself when he made a slip-up at the end of a conversation one day.
“Alright, I’ll call you later.” Bakugou said. “Love you. Bye.”
Then Bakugou ended the call and returned to his weekly bedroom clean-up. It was only several seconds later when he was folding fresh black skull shirts from his laundry that he realized his fatal mistake.
“Shit shit shit shit SHIT!” he thought.
Bakugou paced around his room. He didn’t know what to do or how those words even slipped out of his mouth. Should he text you back and tell you he didn’t mean it (he did)? Should he play it off as a joke (he’d rather die)? Bakugou wished he could use his explosions to time travel several seconds into the past so he could smack his past self for being so utterly stupid. This wasn’t how his perfectly planned confession was supposed to go!
Then, his phone pinged. A new text from you appeared on his screen.
“Oh I didn’t get to say this before you hung up but I love you too Katsuki! <3333”
Bakugou’s face lit up with the proudest grin. Luckily nobody could witness it within the privacy of his bedroom. Well, he wasn’t gonna take his words back now!
I'm working on a request at the moment and will post it later when I can. Please feel free to send more writing requests in as requests are currently open!
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