Alright Now Miss, Spread Yer Legs F'me."

alright now miss, spread yer legs f'me."

you gulp and can feel your face heating up as you stare down at the devastingly handsome doctor in front of you and shyly spread your legs.

dr. kita shinsuke doesnt say a word as he gently presses two of his fingers to your clothed cit, eyeing the sticky wet patch on your panties.

"is... is everything okay, doctor?" you murmur, face still hot as you try not to buck and squirm into underneath his intense gaze.

"well i dont quite know yet... m' gonna have to get these panties off and give ya a real close insepection, alright?"

your breath hitches and you quickly nod, lifting your hips gently as he pulls your lacey underwear slowly down your thighs. he stares at your soaked core with a hunger in his eyes.

"gotta taste ya now, alright, pretty?" he mumbles, "make sure this gorgeous pussy is healthy."

before you can say a thing he's licking up and down your folds, groaning and grunting like a man starved. gasps and whines leave your mouth as your hips buck up and his nose brushes against your clit. he wraps his arms around your thighs, effectively pinning them down. a loud sob leaves your throat as you writhe in pleasure, his tongue and mouth working wonders on you.

"p-please, doc-doctor- please!" you squeal, he groans against you and wraps his lips around your clit and gives it a hard suck.

his actions have you yelling out as your cream so sweetly on his tongue. he moans and slurps up your juices, not stopping until you cry out and push at his head. your sniffles subside as he gently strokes your thighs helping you come down from your high.

"seems like yer just fine... but i think you'll have to come in fer monthly checkups."

"Geez, you weren't kidding," Futakuchi mutters as he sinks into the seat next to Aone. "People really don't sit next to you on the train."

Aone gives one silent nod, fists clenched on his knees as he stares straight out the opposite window. The older man sitting in front of it, across from Aone, glances up over his newspaper and does a double-take before awkwardly shifting out of Aone's direct line of sight.

Futakuchi watches the middle blocker from the corner of his eye. Most people wouldn't have seen a change but Futakuchi's known him long enough, they've been through enough together, to recognize the subtle stiffening in Aone's posture.

Though it's a little out of his way, it's not too inconvenient for Futakuchi. He's prepared to take that route again just to keep Aone company--he cares for his teammates even if he'll never admit it--but Aone's not at school the next day.

A quick text in the team-chat confirms he's fine, just a little under-the-weather.

At the end of practice someone taps Futakuchi on his shoulder and whips around.

"Hi. Whoa, sorry! I didn't mean to startle you," you blurt with your palms up. He cocks an eyebrow; you're in his class but he doesn't really know you.

It doesn't stop you from plowing ahead without giving him a chance to speak. "I just noticed that yesterday you were on the train with Aone, the quiet guy who plays on the volleyball team with you--I mean, of course you know he's on the team with you, you're the captain, nevermind. What I'm trying to say is that I saw you both on the train yesterday when I usually only see Aone and I noticed that Aone's not here today so I was wondering if you were still going to take that same train home today even though you usually don't. And it's just that"

--In the brief moment you take to catch your breath Futakuchi realizes he's gaping a weird, horrified way but he's too distracted to change--

"I really hate riding the train. People are creepy and it grosses me out and I always feel better seeing Aone there, too, because I know he's super nice and if something went wrong or I was in trouble I could ask him for help even though I don't talk to him. But since he's not here today I was wondering if you were still going to ride the train...?"

It takes his mind a minute to catch up, to realize that you're actually giving him a chance to talk.

"I...wasn't...going to?" he starts to answer but it trails up into a question as you start to deflate. "But if it matters that much, I can..."

You exhale with tangible relief. "Thank you so much." You cup your forehead. "I'm sorry about word-vomiting all over you. You're just...really intimidating."

He smirks and falls into step with you walking toward the train station.

"You say I'm intimidating?" He snorts, laughing dryly. "Have you seen the wide-berth people give Aone on the train?"

"Of course I have. Why do you think his presence is so comforting?"

Futakuchi's eyes narrow. "If you think his presence is so comforting why don't you sit with him? It doesn't make him feel good that people avoid him so extremely."

"Really?" You wilt a little at this. "I never thought of it that way...I just...Well..." Your smile is so awkward it's more of a grimace. "I mean, you've experienced my nervous chatter first-hand now. I would love to sit with him, I just...didn't want to subject him to my..."

"Uncontrollable verbal assault?"

You scoff defensively. "I wouldn't say assault..." When he lifts his brow, you sigh in relent. "Okay, yes. It can be aggressive. Which is exactly why I don't sit with him."

As the train pulls into the station, wind whipping at your Date Tech uniform, the irony of the situation hits him.

"I think you're exactly the kind of person Aone would want to sit with him."

You give him a darkly skeptical and searching look, falling surprisingly silent for the rest of the ride and Futakuchi doesn't mind.

He opens his phone and scrolls through random bullshit until your stop comes up.

"Thanks, Futakuchi-san," you say quietly. "I'm really grateful you did this."

He sighs dramatically. "It was really thoughtful of me. So inconvenient and out of my way." He lifts his gaze from his phone to meet your eye as you stand up. "You can pay me back by sitting with Aone tomorrow."

He smirks, satisfied with the way you blanch and leave without another word.

Aone's back at school the next day and in top-form at practice.

"Hey big-guy," Futakuchi says clapping him on the back as they leave the court. "I'm gonna stay a little bit later today so I'll catch the train with you next time. 'Kay?"

Aone nods.

Futakuchi practices a few more serves, closely watching the clock as he mentally counts-down.

When he thinks he has the time right he runs out of the gym--not bothering to change or lock-up yet--and sprints down the road.

His timing is perfect.

The train's just pulling out of the station and he can clearly see Aone's distinct back to the window and

for the first time

someone sitting in the seat next to him.

Thank you @dira333 !!

The Flowers Will Remain

Astarion makes a decision after his sun dies.

Astarion x GN!Reader - Reader is Tav, Angst, Character Death, Grief, Suicide. 900 words.

-

“The stars are beautiful tonight.” 

You respond with silence. Which wasn’t an uncommon response from you since the incident happened, but Astarion still sighs. He runs long fingers through his hair, sweeping the curls back before he settles onto the ground. He lays back, staring up at the twinkling little dots in the dark sky. Even with all the lights of Baldur’s Gate, he could still see them so clearly tonight.

His fingers itch at the quiet. It feels as if the world has quieted down for the two of you now, to let him speak. And for you to hopefully listen to him. “I know you’re probably angry with my decision.” He starts, tilting his head to see if you would respond. But you say nothing, and he frowns. “But it’s my decision to make. I think it’s the right thing to do now. I know it will change things. Mainly to me I suppose - but it will be for the best I think.” 

The wind flows above you both, rustling the trees. He glances over to where you lay, managing a smirk. “See? The winds changing. That means this is… It’s the right thing to do.” He pauses, his fingers curling into his palms so hard that he knows he will be drawing blood. But the elf cares little for that right now. “I know it’s a big decision. But… I’m tired of a life without my sun.” And then he pauses, turning his eyes onto the large, carved stone, engraved with your name and two little dates. 

Over a century had passed since you died. 

He could survive in the sun, so long as he took his potion. You had traveled Faerun with him to find a cure, and then to have a happy few decades with him. And you had, he thinks, setting up a nice little cottage once he could survive in the sunlight. It wasn’t until you started wrinkling and your hair had gone fully grey, that he remembered that you wouldn’t be here forever. And then he had to make a choice. 

Find a way to make you immortal and you both could continue to live together forever, at the cost that he may not be with you if you did die. Or he could support you and love you for those last few years. 

He had chosen the latter. Mainly due to your own wish. “I’m too old to live forever now.” You had said kindly to him, cupping his cheek. Your knees were starting to give way, and you were growing more frail by the year. “And you will find love again.” 

Astarion had, in ways. Nothing that lasted. Nothing like you. 

He had tried. He had fought for it. He had gone on for another one hundred years. And now, he was done. He had settled it. And he can only hope you’re not disappointed in him. 

The elf moves to kneel, crawling towards your gravestone. The flowers were from the garden you had planted with him. The spawn had dug every single one up and brought them here. To live on as decoration to both of your graves. Because you had requested to be buried beside him. “Let my spirit be close to you this way. And let me be able to hear you, should you need to speak to me.” 

He wonders if you’re listening. “I love you. Not loved, I might add.” The stone is cold as he brushes over the indents of your name. “I could never stop loving you. I tried others, but, perhaps you only make one soul mate per lifetime. Even with my long life.” He bites his bottom lip and moves to kneel in the space between both stones. He had placed a small portrait here, a gift you had given him. A portrait of the both of you, young and happy. 

Before he would’ve stared at himself, seeing how he was perceived, but now he just stares at your face. The laughter he can’t hear in your smile, and the warm affection in your eyes. 

Grief never ended. He had traveled the world, he had done everything he had wanted to do. Formed new relationships, and went on adventures; he even played a hero in one town for a short while. Wyll would’ve been proud of him. So would’ve Karlach, he thinks, and maybe Halsin. 

But your friends were gone too. He was alone with the grief of so many on his shoulders, and he did not think he could handle any others.

“I didn’t take my potion.” He whispers to the stone and hears the whistle rustle back. It makes him laugh, sharp and only slightly amused. “I know - but I’ll get to see you again soon. Won’t I? And you can scold me then. Wherever we may be.” His thumb brushes over your smile before he lifts the small portrait to his chest. Wrapping both of his arms around, he squeezes the image of you as close as he can to his heart. “Wherever you are now, I’m going to find you. I - I can’t be without you again.” His voice cracks and his eyes sting. 

And then there’s a flash of glinting light above him. It takes a moment for him to register it, to see the gleam of warm light against cool metal. He turns, to lie on the ground as the sun rises. 

And he lifts the portrait of the two of you. To stare at his true sun one final time. The light of his life. 

Tears and smiles fill his face. And soon, there is nothing but ashes left. 

The flowers will remain.

-

A/N: We cried writing this one boys. Why do I love Astarion angst so much

cw f!reader , mild fraternal violence , atsumu’s terrible lying skills

“I know something you don’t know,” Osamu singsongs, standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom and peering over his brother’s shoulder at his reflection in the mirror.

“Yeah?” Atsumu grunts, yanking a comb through his hair and glaring back at his twin. “Spit it out, shitty ‘Samu. I got places to be, you know?”

“Ouch, don’t shoot the messenger,” Osamu drawls, leaning against the doorframe. “I know that you have a date tonight and you think you’re being sneaky about it.”

“Do not,” Atsumu scowls immediately, dropping the comb and turning around, because he is the worst liar ever. “I don’t even—what are you—I’m taking myself on a date, how about that, it’s called self care, ever heard of it? Huh? Okay? Huh?”

“Okay,” Osamu says, “You’re wearing a tie.”

“I can wear a tie if I want to,” Atsumu sneers, fiddling with it.

“Last summer, at Uncle Jun’s wedding, Ma had to literally threaten to shave your head to get you to wear one.”

“I’m a man now,” Atsumu sticks his chin up, examining his jaw. “I can wear a tie. Hey, did I miss anything while I was shaving?”

“You don’t have any facial hair to shave. And you have a hickey right there.”

“What? Seriously? Where?” Atsumu panics, turning back and forth.

“Ha, I got you—hey!!! Don’t hit me, asshole! I’ll tell Ma!!! And you—you left your fucking bouquet out on my desk, by the way. I told you to stop putting your stuff—no I swear I’ll kill you get offa me get off!—on my desk just because yours is too messy!”

“It was there for five seconds! You left all your laundry on my bed the other day—“

“Where was I s’posed to put it, the floor?”

“Your closet!” Atsumu roars. “Oh, shit, what time is it?” He drops his brother’s shirt collar abruptly.

“5:30,” Osamu says, dusting himself off. “What time you gotta be there?”

“She’s walkin’ over here now, probably,” Atsumu says, rushing back to the bathroom. “Fuck, well since you know, can I use your cologne?”

“It’s the same one you have?”

“It’s better, I don’t know,” Atsumu argues. “Just gimme it, it’s like one spritz.”

“Fine,” Osamu grumbles. “Hey, ‘Tsumu, I know something else you don’t know.”

“What,” Atsumu rolls his eyes as he walks around, frantically shoving his keys and wallet into his pockets, picking up the bouquet—delicate red and white flowers, not bad, scrub, thinks Osamu.

“This ain’t your first date,” he says smugly.

“What are you, Sherlock Holmes?” His brother says. “How d’you figure that?”

Osamu mock-stretches before counting off on his fingers. “One, you never walk home with me and Suna anymore. Two, there’s some flowery shit that appeared in our shower, and I know I didn’t buy it, and you’re not walkin’ around smelling like lavender and honey, so you’ve gotta be sneakin’ someone in. Three, you came to practice two weeks ago with an actual hickey, y’know, when you kept missing sets ‘cause you were in such a good mood.”

Atsumu blinks at him, finally lost for words.

“And,” Osamu says, tone somewhat gentler. “You seem a lot happier lately. Less, y’know, hard on yourself. Whoever it is, I think she’s good for you.”

“Thanks,” Atsumu says, swallowing roughly. “You’re so sappy.”

“Says the guy holding the flowers.” And trying not to let his eyes water over, but Osamu doesn’t say that bit. He can spare some of his brother’s dignity.

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Atsumu says quietly. “Please don’t tell Ma yet, okay? She’s always on about volleyball bein’ enough of a distraction from school, I know she thinks dating is too. I just wanna—I want her to like my—”

He says your name just as the doorbell rings.

“Her? You’re dating—?” Osamu’s tone is incredulous. “Hold on, you can’t go yet. She’s like a million times out of your league—”

“I know!” Atsumu beams at him. “Keep your mouth shut or you’ll regret it. Tell Ma I’m sleeping at the dorms with Suna. Bye!”

"I like you, okay?!"

summary: katsuki struggles to confess to his crush.

tags: fluff, fem!reader

Katsuki is good at a lot of things, but when it comes to romance, he is a hopeless fool.  

In his defense, it’s not his fault. He’s spent the vast majority of his life focusing on one goal and one goal only—honing his Quirk so that he can become the Number One Hero. And he always thought that his attention would never sway, free of any unnecessary distractions.  

Until he met you.  

At the start of the first year at U.A, Katsuki didn’t think much of you. Well, he didn’t think much of any of his classmates, for that matter, but slowly but surely, the days passed, and he found his gaze lingering on you for a lot longer than he would’ve liked to admit.  

Katsuki tries to deny it at first. Something about you makes him feel... off. He's not sure why his chest gets uncomfortably tight when you speak to him, and it also doesn’t make any sense why his face heats up like never before. Maybe he’s sick, but if that were really the case, then he’s somehow been sick for the past few months.  

It takes someone else’s meddling for Katsuki to finally put the pieces together.  

“So, Bakugou, what’s up with you and [Name]?” Kaminari asks. “It feels like you treat her a bit differently than everyone else. Do you have a crush on her or something?”  

Kaminari was half-joking, but when Katsuki’s cheeks flush a deep shade of crimson—enough to rival his piercing eyes—everyone around him gasps.  

“Dude,” Kirishima chuckles. “No way. You actually like her, huh?”  

“The hell I do!” Katsuki immediately snaps back, but his voice cracks, and based on the way everyone smirks at him, he can tell he must not be very convincing.  

Kaminari grins. “Wow, I hit the nail right on the head! You’ve gotta confess, man! [Name]’s really popular, so if you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it!”  

“You idiots are out of your damn minds,” Katsuki grits out, and without wasting a beat, he shoves his hands in his pockets and stomps off.  

They’re just being stupid like always. Seriously, him, having a crush on someone? The Bakugou Katsuki? As if he has the time or energy to waste on mushy shit like that. It’s so ridiculous he’s almost tempted to laugh.  

But then he takes a moment to consider Kaminari’s words.  

“If you wait around too long, someone else might beat you to it.”  

Katsuki isn’t sure why, but he briefly imagines you being asked out by another person, someone who isn’t him. He imagines you laughing with them, hooking your arm around theirs, and last but certainly not least, leaning forward to meet them in a kiss.  

The image evokes a visceral reaction from him, and in that moment, he swears his heart nearly stops beating. 

And then comes the realization.  

Oh, fuck.  

He’s in deep shit.  

As much as Katsuki would like to say that he’s made progress since realizing that he likes you, that unfortunately isn’t the case.  

If anything, the self-awareness has just made things worse. Before, he could at least talk to you like a semi-normal person, but now, your interactions usually go something like this:  

“Good morning, Katsuki,” you greet. “How’d you do on yesterday’s assignment? To be honest, I was kind of rushing to finish it on time. It felt like it was harder than usual.”  

Katsuki parts his lips to respond, but the longer he stares at you, the faster his heart races.  

He ends up walking away out of sheer embarrassment.  

“Man,” Kirishima sighs. “That was painful to watch.”

“Shut up!” Katsuki hisses. “What the fuck do you want me to do?!”  

“Just be normal. Be yourself.” Kirishima pauses for a few moments. “Actually... maybe that’s not the best advice.”  

“Oh, piss off!"  

It goes on like this for a while. Every time you engage him in casual, friendly conversation, Katsuki finds himself freezing up completely. It’s ironic, because he has the confidence to take on fearsome villains with ease, and yet this is what has him scared shitless.  

Goddammit. Katsuki never realized that liking someone would be such a test of his strength.  

Unfortunately, he’s too caught up in his own feelings that he doesn’t stop to consider how all of this looks from your perspective.  

“Katsuki,” you approach him one day, and for some reason, you’re frowning. “Hey. Can you please be honest with me? Did I do something to upset you, or what? Because it feels like you’ve been ignoring me lately.”  

He blinks. “What? No. If I had a problem with you, I’d tell you.”  

“Well, that’s what I thought too. So then... why do you keep avoiding me? Does it just bore you having to listen to me talk?”  

Hardly. Katsuki could probably listen to you talk for hours upon hours without getting bored. You have a pretty face, a pretty voice, and whenever you smile or laugh, it makes him want to do the same.  

It suddenly dawns on him that this is probably the best chance he’ll get. It’ll be bad news if he lets this misunderstanding drag out any further. He doesn’t want you to think that you don’t like him, because that’s the furthest thing from the truth.  

Come on. He can do this. He’s Bakugou Katsuki, for fuck’s sake. It’s time to stop acting like a coward and own up to how he feels.  

“I,” Katsuki starts shakily, “I...”  

You raise a brow. “You...?”  

“I...”  

“...?”  

Holy shit, this is so much harder than he anticipated. He’ll take a punch to the face over a confession any day of the week.  

But no, he can’t give up, goddammit! Again, he’s Bakugou Katsuki! Resident badass! The (self-proclaimed) future Number One Hero! 

The words feel like bile rushing up his esophagus, and even though they burn like hell, he finally, finally manages to spit them out.  

“I like you, okay?!”  

He did it. He’s violently flushed in the face and keeps having to gasp to reclaim his breath, but at long last, the truth is out in the open.  

And now for the part that he didn’t even stop to consider. Seeing how you'll react.  

“Oh,” you blink in response. You’re visibly taken aback, and you clear your throat, stopping to ponder your next words. “Well, that’s—”  

“Shut up, shut up, shut up! I don’t want to hear it!”  

Katsuki books it the hell out of there before he can hear what you have to say. He supposes he’s unlocked a new fear: rejection. The way he handled this whole situation is lame, it’s childish as hell, and he knows it, but when it comes to this stuff, it looks like he’s much more of a coward than he first thought.  

Meanwhile, you giggle softly as you watch him run off.  

“What a dork. He didn’t even wait for me to say I like him back.”  

Through Your Eyes

Astarion x Reader/Tav / short / soft and sweet / Tav draws Astarion, he gushes

Thank you for all the love on my first post! I’m working on some Karlach stuff right now because I noticed that she’s really lacking in fics so obviously that needs to be rectified.

Astarion tapped his foot, leaning back against his hands as he waited…he liked to think he was a patient man, but…he was not.

“Darling, how much longer will this take?” He complained, tilting his head from side to side as if his muscles were aching.

Tav glance over her sketch pad, a soft laugh escaping her. “… Astarion, I’ve been drawing for ten minutes," she spoke, gazing intently at him for a moment… before getting back to work.

He gave a bit of a huff; though it clearly wasn’t genuine annoyance. He actually really appreciated it. She was a wonderful artist. He’d caught her doodling their companions and seeing how well she caught their likeness? He was eager to see himself from her eyes… and well, eager to see himself in general.

Cazador may have been more than happy to splurge on portraits of himself, but his spawn? He wouldn’t even dream of it. He frowned a little at the thought, and Tav gave a soft laugh.

“Stop frowning… I want to draw that beautiful smile.” Of course, she wasn’t to know what was on his mind. Astarion blinked, eyes widening a bit…clearly? He hadn’t noticed he was outwardly expressing his frustration.

He gave a little huff, readjusting and giving her a sly smile. “…You know that’s not what I mean," she spoke, lowering the sketch pad…He caught the slightest glimpse of himself and beamed. “That one!” she laughed, eagerly fumbling to adjust the sketch.

“Oh come now, you’ve got to be done, surely!” he sighed frantically as he crawled over, arms winding around her waist as he nuzzled into her shoulder, gazing over the sketch… His face softened immediately at the sight.

There he was, basking in the sun and settled in front of his tent, an adoring smile on his face. His hair was coiffed, somehow curled around his face perfectly despite the whole no mirror thing… He looked ethereal. There were a couple more sketches on the page too, showcasing his face up close, wrinkles and blemishes and all.

Of course, he knew he was gorgeous; he’d had zero doubts about that. But to see what he truly looked like? Drawn by someone who treasured him so dearly? It almost bought a tear to his eye. Almost.

“Darling, these are simply divine…” he whispered, taking the sketch pad from her to admire them. “We should get them framed.”

“Wh- they’re not /that/ good!” she cried, eyes wide at the suggestion.

“Nonsense! They’re everything to me…” he cooed, setting the sketch pad down to cup her face, gazing at her with so much love.

Tav flushed, hands slowly moving to settle over his. She really didn’t feel like a couple sketches warranted framing, but it was clearly important to him. “…Okay, Astarion. I’ll get them framed,” Tav cooed, kissing lazily at his palms… Which turned into lazy kisses, which turned into Gale loudly scolding the pair from across the camp.

They looked at each other, laughing loudly as they untangled themselves to stand… And just like that, they were off to the city.