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under the stars one last time

Tamar x Nadia

A/N: NSFW - very, as in this is pure smut

Warnings: smut

Summary: The night before the ambush, Tamar and Nadia had disappeared early.

Word count: ~900

Tamar and Nadia had disappeared early. 

Tamar held Nadia’s hand and guided her towards the orchard with a sense of urgency. Once they’d disappeared from sight into the trees, she looped an arm around her waist and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. The other coming to gently caress the back of her head. Nadia slipped her arms up to hold both of the other girl’s cheeks. The kisses started off short and sweet, but naturally grew quicker and rougher. Tamar hands drifted to squeeze Nadia’s ass, smacking it as she gave a little yelp before moaning. That only seemed to fuel Tamar who kept one hand around her waist, another drifting up and down the sides of her body. Nadia’s nails left scratches on her back. 

Before either of them knew it, they’d both removed their tops, Nadia’s Kefta had been shed to the side a long time ago – and Tamar’s hidden knives and axes thrown on top of it – normally she was always careful with them, but this time that care flew out the window. Nadia leaned down to start kissing Tamar’s breasts, leaving a trail of hickeys across them – gently sucked on each nipple as Tamar moaned her name quietly. Nadia’s hands kept leaving scratches on Tamar’s back as she moved her way down her stomach towards her clit. She yanked on Tamar’s trousers, the other girl laughing as she helped pull them off. 

The laugh quickly turned into a moan as Nadia’s tongue found her clit. She flicked her tongue up and down, watching her lover unravel above her through her eyelashes. Her finger easily slid in into her wet cunt and pressed in the perfect spot. 

It was a short amount of time before Tamar began to feel her stomach tighten. 

“Baby .. fuck, baby don’t stop” she groaned, 

Nadia moaned into her, the vibrations adding another layer of pleasure.  

“Right there, right there” 

Nadia moaned again and Tamar unraveled, stifling the moans with one hand as the other gripped the back of Nadia’s head. Nadia slowly licked up and down the whole length of her pussy, cleaning her up. After a few moments, Tamar pulled Nadia up to kiss her. She kept eye contact as she gripped the bottom of her thighs and lifted her up so Nadia could wrap her legs around her waist. Nadia squealed as Tamar pushed her against the nearest tree. 

She let the other girl’s legs fall to the ground as she slowly left a trail of marks from her collar bone to her navel. Spending time caressing each breast, and gently biting and sucking on her nipples. Nadia started squirming, trying to rub her legs together to get some relief. Tamar loved to tease and it both excited the girl and drove her crazy. 

Tamar stood up and whispered in her ear, “be patient”. Nadia groaned but Tamar hid the sound with a rough kiss, biting the other girls lip hard enough to almost draw blood. But, Nadia loved it. Tamar’s hand had drifted up Nadia’s side, gently ghosting over her nipple before Tamar’s put two fingers in Nadia’s mouth. 

She made eye contact as she gently sucked on each finger, letting them out of her mouth with a pop. Tamar almost growled before bringing her hand back down to work at Nadia’s clit. Her fingers gently drifted over her folds, she looked up at Nadia who nodded, and Tamar began – sliding one finger in first, gently stretching before adding a second, and a third. She pumped her fingers in and out at a excruciatingly slow pace before Nadia had enough of it,

“Faster, please, fuck me baby” With that, Tamar set a brutal pace pumping in and out of her, and Nadia loved it – she bit into her shoulder to keep from screaming. 

“Be a good girl and finish for me” Tamar whispered in her ear, and that’s all it took for Nadia to come undone. Nadia was loud – really loud. Even though she was biting into her shoulder, Tamar hoped the others hadn’t heard. It would be incredibly embarrassing for everyone to charge over thinking there was some kind of danger. 

Nadia collapsed into Tamar’s arms, breathing heavily. 

“You don’t even seem tired”, she glared at her, petulantly, 

Tamar just chuckled and held the other girl in her arms. She gently lowered them to the ground, propping her own back up against the tree and letting Nadia curl up in her arms. She ran her fingers up and down her bare back – making goosebumps break out on Nadia’s arms. She kissed the top of her head, humming contently. 

“We should at least get our clothes on love”

“I just want to stay here forever” Nadia replied, 

“I wish we could little dove”. 

Tamar managed to convince Nadia to put her clothes back on, and they took up the same position – curled up against the tree. 

“What if … the worst happens?” Nadia replies hesitantly. 

“It wont”, Tamar said with confidence. 

“And if it does?” 

“Then we go down fighting, with honor”

Nadia nodded in agreement, it was morbid to think about but they both had the understanding that they would die before being captured – better to go down on a battlefield than destroyed by the Darkling’s nichevo’ya. But she brushed the thought aside, they would spend the night together where they belonged – in each other’s arms. 

make every moment count

​​Tamar x f!Reader

A/N: Full nsfw version is here :)

Word count: ~2.8k

Summary: Tamar tries to defend your honor on a night away from the Volkvolny. 

Warnings: Attempted SA, slightly NSFW, slight violence, power dynamics.

She’s standing up at the bar, it’s crowded, several ships have pulled in within the last few days and it always makes for a busy night. She is well aware of Tamar’s eyes on her back, watching her every move. It’s protective in a cute way, she knows y/n can handle her own, but still likes to keep an eye out, ‘just in case’. She’s waiting patiently for her turn, she’s already had a few drinks and doesn’t mind waiting a few extra minutes. A shoulder roughly pushes her to the side, shoving her further away from the barkeep. 

“Hey!” she protests, turning to look at the person. The man in question is obviously Fjerdan, would be considered mildly attractive - if she was into men. But, he reeks of beer and fish that’s been left out a few days too long, his teeth are slightly yellowed as he smiles. 

“Girls don’t need drinks.” His words come out in broken kerch, a Fjerdan accent. She rolls her eyes and ignores his comment, shoving him back out of her way with surprising strength, and takes her previous position. His frustrated grunt sounds behind her, and she ignores it. She’s dealt with his type before, Fjerdan deckhands on their first few trips who haven’t learned their place yet. Most of them have never seen a woman carry a weapon, let alone try and order their drinks in a bar. Saints forbid she carry a weapon and order her own drinks. Her knowledge of Fjerda is unfortunately skewed and limited to what she’s seen from Fjerdan sailors. Maybe one day she’ll visit, if they ever stop burning and executing people like her.

She freezes when she feels his hand harshly make contact with her ass. It’s obviously intentional and she’s filled with fury. It’s one thing to shove her out of the way for drinks, but another completely to try and grope her. It won’t end well for him, especially with Tamar watching her like a hawk. Maybe her senses are slowed by the alcohol but a few seconds pass before she turns around, arm pulled back - ready to break his nose, but he’s already being dragged out. Tamar had gotten there first. The entire room has gone silent, all eyes watching the Shu girl drag a tall, well built, sailor outside like he’s a doll. 

“Saints” y/n curses under her breath before following them outside. It’s approaching winter in Ketterdam, and the air is growing crisp again. Not enough to need a jacket, but not enough to be comfortable in short sleeves. Not for the first time, she wishes for the mild falls and winters of Novyi Zem, her favorite place to dock. Weddle is beautiful - clear seas, bright skies, full of colors and the smells of different spices. Ketterdam smells like fish and waste - to her at least, some people love it here, but she’d rather be almost anywhere else. 

A small crowd gathers as Tamar pushes the man out the door, into the open space in front of the pub. Y/n smiles as she watches her punch him in the face, something flushes inside her, something she needs to ignore right now, it’s not the time and definitely not the place. Her smile drops as he calls her foul names. Her eyes narrow and she stalks up behind him, bending to grab a small stone off the floor. 

“Hey idiot.” She launches the stone at the back of his head, and it meets his target. His face turns back to her, he looks oafish, and she can see the purple bruise already forming on his cheek. He’s caught off-guard enough that he misses the kick she lands right to his groin. He’s not as phased as she would’ve hoped but she dodges his weak attempt to fight back. A large figure steps in front of her, and shoves him back - he tumbles several feet away into the dirt. It’s Tolya. Y/n tries to dodge past him after the man, but Tolya throws her over his shoulder. She grumbles, pounding weakly into his back. 

“I had him.” 

“I know. We’re getting out of here before the two of you get us in any more trouble.” 

Y/n just huffs, but doesn’t argue with him. She notices Tamar following them a few paces behind, another crewmate by her side, evidently trying to keep her from turning around. She stills hears Tamar still cursing obscenities at him over her shoulder. Now that y/n’s being dragged away, she knows Tamar won’t stick around any longer. The man’s crewmates are holding him back, keeping him from trying to retaliate further - a smart move. 

A few streets down, Tolya finally lets y/n down. Tamar’s caught up, and was walking right beside them - but didn’t do anything to get Tolya to let y/n down. 

“Traitor” she mutters once her feet are back on solid ground. Tamar just winks and wraps an arm around her shoulder. 

“We can’t take you two anywhere.” Tolya grunts. His voice sounds disappointed, but she can see the amusement in his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” Y/n says. “We’re a great source of entertainment.” 

“More like trouble. Can’t go more than three visits without one of you starting something.”

Her eyes narrow. “He started it.” 

“You’re right.” He sighs.  

They all laugh, and split up for the night. Tolya and the other crewmate head back to the ship, but they’d opted to stay at an inn, taking a break from the Volkvolny for a night. Getting some time and space alone may have been a big motivating factor. As far as the crew officially knows, they are just platonic friends, but y/n knows they aren’t fooling anyone - but they have so far refused to officially tell anyone. In the name of professionalism - as much as you can get in a pack of rogues and mercenaries, they keep it to themselves. Tolya knows, of course, Tamar can’t keep anything from him.

Y/n links her arm through Tamar’s, drawing her as close as she can while walking. “You know it’s incredibly attractive when you try to protect my honor.” 

“Try?” She said, turning to face her. “I’m pretty sure I did, there wasn’t any try there.” 

“I’m certain that was me.” There’s a small smile on her face, the mischievous kind. She knows what kind of argument she’s starting. 

“Who’s the one who threw the first punch?” 

“Who’s the one who threw the last?” 

“Technically that was Tolya.” They reached their destination for the night, an inn well known to them, and luckily there’s a room available. Y/n hands over some Kruge in exchange for a key - attached to a chicken bone, and thanks the innkeeper before letting Tamar take her hand again, following her upstairs.  

“Still, I won.” Y/n continues their argument from before. 

“This is a competition now?” Her tone is light, and there’s amusement in her eyes. 

“Isn’t everything?” 

“That’s one way to look at things.” Tamar keeps a firm grip on her hand, tugging her with more urgency up the stairs towards their room. She counts the numbers on the doors. 

“You’re absolutely ridiculous” she says to her back, barely keeping up. 

“You love it.” she says without turning around. 

“It’s possible.” 

“Probable.” This time she does turn around, and her grin is infectious. Y/n can’t help but smile back. 

She groans anyway, “please don’t start talking like him.” They’ve reached their door now and y/n steps in front to unlock the door, her fingers fumbling slightly with the key - maybe from nerves, maybe from mead. Tamar wraps her arms around her and plucks the key out of her hands, unlocking the door with a wink that makes her roll her eyes. She gives her a gentle shove inside and follows her, closing the door behind them.  

As soon as the door is locked, her back is pressed up against it. Not too roughly, but not gentle either. Tamar’s body follows, notching perfectly into hers. She loves the feeling of the soft leathers pressed up against her chest, the hilt of the knife strapped to Tamar digging into her stomach. 

Tamar’s forearms are braced on either side of her head, and her forehead presses against y/n’s. “I love seeing you punch someone.” she says, her voice low and breathy. 

“That’s probably a bad thing.” y/n replies, but can’t help the pink flush that slowly fills her cheeks at the praise. The corners of Tamar’s lips turn up, and y/n’s eyes narrow, knowing she can sense her blood flow. It’s an unfair advantage, she knows exactly what each word and action does to her, and no matter how much she denies it, Tamar can tell if she’s lying or not. 

“Depends who you’re punching.” 

“Maybe i’ll make it a habit.” 

“Slow down.” She laughs, “as much as I like it you probably shouldn’t go around punching people because of that.” 

“You probably shouldn’t try to tell me what to do.” Y/n’s eyebrows raise slightly. Her hands pushing at Tamar’s shoulders so she can take in her whole expression. She creates enough space between them that she can cross her arms and tilt her head slightly. It’s a challenge, and Tamar takes it. 

Quicker than she can blink, her hands grasp y/n’s wrists, and pin them above her head with one hand. The other comes to press two fingers up under her chin, tilting her chin up so she can meet her eyes. The expression in the other girl’s gaze sends goosebumps down y/n’s spine, and her blood rushing straight down. 

“I remember quite clearly you like being told what to do.” Her breath catches, she searches for words, something to respond with, another sarcastic remark, but she can’t find any. The winning smirk on Tamar’s face makes her eyes narrow. She’s not backing down, not yet at least. Tamar’s grip on her wrists is light, and she yanks her arms down, flipping their positions so she’s pressed against the door instead. 

A slight look of shock passes across Tamar’s face, and y/n takes the chance to slide one hand up her body to rest on her throat. A smile crosses Tamar’s face, and it infuriates her. Her hand follows hers, covering the hand on her throat and pressing firmer. “You have to actually mean it.” Somehow she’s the one pinned to the wall, but still in control of the whole situation. 

Y/n’s jaw drops. Tamar moves her hand off her throat, and leans down to grip underneath both of her thighs. Moving on instinct and muscle memory rather than conscious thought, y/n jumps, wrapping her legs around her waist, and her arms around her neck. 

Tamar’s lips graze across her ear, “good girl” and her entire face flushes, she’s certain her skin is completely red now. She walks them over to the bed, her eyes focused on hers, and gently throws her down.

Y/n’s brows furrow when Tamar doesn’t follow her on the bed, she reaches up to tug her down. 

Tamar sighs, eyes looking down to gaze at her. “Weapons.” 

“What?” 

“We need to take our weapons off.” 

Y/n laughs, and takes the hand Tamar offers. She follows her over to the dresser, and between the two of them they leave a small armory behind, kicking their shoes and throwing their holsters off at the same time. She doesn’t waste any time getting her launched back onto the bed, practically throwing her from halfway across the room. Y/n bounces on the bed with a laugh, hands grasping at the sheets to keep herself from falling off. 

Seconds later, Tamar hovers over y/n, arms propped to brace either side of her head. She attempts to arch her body up to meet hers, but a hand on her throat pinned her down, she lets out a small, involuntary, moan. It’s embarrassing how quickly she can make her wet, they haven’t even kissed yet, their lips haven’t met and yet she’s soaked completely. Y/n is tired of it. She reaches her hands up to cup the back of Tamar’s head to pull her down. To her surprise, Tamar lets her and they stop just a hair’s breadth away from each other. The golden tilted eyes dig into hers, and she pauses for a few moments. Her eyes are golden, with flicks of light brown. Y/n keeps eye contact, trying to memorize every bit of them she can. She watches as her eyes shift down towards her lips, and knows the pause is coming into an end. The kiss is dominating, possessive, and makes her toes curl. Every second is savored, every move of their lips, every touch, every feeling and sensation. They get so little time together - so little intimate time, that any second feels too precious to waste.

Later

Her fingers run through her hair, letting her rest on her chest with one arm splayed over her stomach. Her eyes are closed peacefully, and y/n listens to her heart beat, enjoying the steady rhythm. Minutes or hours could’ve passed before she felt Tamar move. She grumbles but the other girl lifts her head, resting it on a pillow. She peeks her eyes open, and Tamar grabs some nightclothes, throwing a pair at her. Reluctantly she sits up, pulling the clothes on. Unfortunately, anyone can barge in at any time - they’re technically always on duty. It’s only happened once and thank the saints it was Tolya. That was the first and probably will be the last time she’s heard him let out a childish scream. They probably traumatized him. And they’ve remembered to lock the door every time since. 

“Put some clothes on.” He yelled. “We’ve got to go,” and slammed the door behind him. 

Hopefully this night would pass without any interruptions. Unfortunately, it never seems to work like that. Less than an hour later, someone’s banging on the door. 

“Stay here.” Tamar mutters, darting over to grab a pistol before unlocking the door. She hears a sigh and mumbled conversation in Shu. Y/n’s Shu still isn’t great, but she catches the words “lead,” and “leaving right away.” in Tolya’s voice. 

“For fucks sake.” She curses from the bed, dragging herself up to start changing back into her clothes. Tamar catches her moving out of the corner of her eye, and winks. After gathering her clothes, she moves to the other side of the room where Tolya can’t see her strip naked. No need to re-traumatize him. Tamar closes the door and leans back against it. She looks over at Y/N who's naked, pulling her underthings back on. She carefully rakes every inch of her body. 

“Don’t you need to get dressed?” 

Tamar groans but pushes herself off the door, heading over to get her clothes on. 

“What’s going on?” Y/n asks. 

“Sturmhond has a lead on the summoner.” Her voice is low enough no one outside the room will be able to hear them. Y/n glances at the window, checking for any signs of someone outside it. Their room is on the third floor, but paranoia has been built into her over the last few years. 

“Really?”

“Yep.” 

“And he needs to leave immediately?” “We’re half a day behind.” 

They’re both fully dressed by now, and strapping their weapons back on. Her legs are still shaky and she stumbles trying to put a knife back in her boot. Tamar catches her, hands gripping her shoulder, and laughs.  “Careful.” 

“It’s your fault.” She grumbles.  Tamar raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t hear you complaining.”  “I wasn’t” she can’t help but smile, her cheeks flush and she turns her attention back to her pistol, carefully strapping it on her thigh. Tamar reaches behind her and wraps an arm around her lower back, pulling her in so she’s flush against her chest. Y/n’s breath catches, and she looks up at her with wide eyes. She leaves a soft, gentle kiss on her lips before releasing her. 

“I like your blush.” 

“Shut up.” Tamar laughs, and does an extra check around the room, making sure they’ve grabbed all of their belongings. She tugs y/n out the door and back down the stairs. Y/n throws the key on the desk,

“Sorry,” she mutters, before following Tamar out. Tolya’s waiting for them in the street. They don’t speak about their destination anymore, knowing anyone can have ears around the city. They’re still on high alert even though the streets are nearly abandoned at this hour - 4 bells. 

Tolya rushes them to the ship, grunting something about them being slow, before stopping them, just shy of the entrance to the docks. He points at y/n’s neck, “Tamar, please fix that.”

Y/n turns to glare at Tamar, who laughs, but does look a bit chastised. She quickly heals the bruises, and soon they’re back on board. Sturmhond gives them a knowing look before they take off, y/n taking the first shift on the sails as soon as they leave the harbor.  

that's when she knew she lost her

Tamar Kir-Bataar x f!Reader

Word count: ~3.4k

Warnings: Character death

A/N: This is based on the books! nsfw version here

Summary: She saw the look in Tamar's eyes when the Sun Summoner took her second amplifier, and that's when she knew she lost her. Not that she was hers to keep in the first place.

Kostya’s wind carries her, and she lands on deck with a thud grunting before rolling out of the line of fire, breathing out a sigh of relief. She made it off the whaler, back on the volkvolny. Her relief is short-lived as Tamar yells, “He’s up.”

The Darkling’s shadow monsters rise up from the deck of the old whaler. She curses but takes position, listening for Sturmhond’s whistles and orders. The next minutes go by in a blur, she doesn’t have time to think, no time to mourn, just barely enough time to breathe and take the next action. Her hands move rapidly to manipulate the water surrounding them. 

She collapses in exhaustion once they’re out of range, she notices there’s only two tidemakers left, including her. The others must’ve been up on the rigging. 

Her breaths come heavy, but her skin is glowing with the tell-tale flush that comes with using her powers. Her back is up against the rails, the cool metal digging into her spine, when Tamar leans up next to her. Her hand clasps her shoulder. 

“I’m glad that's done.” She says. 

Y/n turns to look at her, “Thanks the saints. I never want to see him again. Maybe his dead body.”  

“Maybe we’ll get that lucky.” 

“It’ll take more than luck.” She mumbles. Tamar’s arm wraps around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. The action feels strange after so many weeks without any contact, but her arms wrap around her lower back, pressing herself into her. Tamar always runs hot, and her heat is welcoming this time. 

“We’ll celebrate later.” She says, her voice low enough so only y/n can hear. Her cheeks flush pink and her heart beats rapidly, the promise is enough to make her nerves tingle. She remembers the last time they ‘celebrated’ together.  

Flashback

They’d finally dropped the last of the slavers they’d captured off in Kerch and set sail again. Tamar practically dragged her back to their room and she was laughing the entire way. The laughter stopped when the door shut behind her, her body slammed into it. Her eyes widened and she bit her bottom lip out of nerves. Tamar’s thumb brushed lightly across her lip, tugging it free from the bite. Y/n’s eyes gaze to the floor, nerves starting to get the best of her. Tamar’s thumb presses under her chin, tilting her head up so their eyes will meet. 

“Are you nervous?” she asks

“No.” She replies a little too quickly, and grimaces, remembering Tamar can always tell when she’s lying. “Maybe a little.” 

“Why?” 

Y/n sighs, her palms coming up to rub at her eyes. “I don’t know.” Tamar tugs her hands away, and pulls her away from the door, yanking her flush against her chest, moving them towards the middle of the small room. Her breath catches and she freezes. Slowly she moves her arms so they’re wrapped gently around Tamar’s shoulders. She studies every inch of her face, but still avoids eye contact. 

“Look at me.” Tamar’s tone tells her it isn’t a question. She tears her eyes up from her lips to meet hers. “You’re fine. We don’t have to do anything tonight. Or ever.” 

Her eyes narrow at the last two words, and her hands come up to cup her cheeks, pressing their lips together with urgency. Tamar’s hands dig into her lower back, drawing their hips together. Y/n has a feeling this is the reaction she wants, and she gives right into it. 

End Flashback

“I’ll be looking forward to it.” The grin on her face is infectious but thankfully hidden, her face pressed into Tamar’s chest. Once her heart has calmed a little she pushes back. “We should get back to work.” 

“Probably.” Tamar sounds reluctant but presses a kiss to her forehead, and heads back to talk to Sturmhond. 

Y/n presses two fingers to her forehead, the spot where Tamar just kissed. She hears a snicker from behind her and whips around. Kostya, one of her closest friends on the ship, is laughing at her. She sends a spurt of water to his face, and that knocks the laughter off of him. He retaliates with a small gust of wind. 

“Oi.” Privyet’s voice comes through, “Quit that.” 

They start laughing, both looking slightly chastised. They stand to the side as the sea whip is hauled on deck. Her hand drifts nervously to her left wrist, the space where her amplifier hides. Taking a second amplifier sounds like absolute insanity to her, but thankfully that’s something she doesn’t have to worry about. She doesn’t move when the scales are offered, just exchanging a small glance with Kostya. Scales still freak her out somewhat and she shudders. For once, he doesn’t make fun of her and she’s grateful for it.

–

She knows her jealousy is stupid, but it’s reasonable to be upset that she’s kicked out of her room with barely any notice. Not to mention, nobody bothered to ask her, just “Tamar’s sharing with the Sun Summoner.” And now she’s in one of the old closets normally saved for less welcome guests. Her one bag is moved over quickly enough. At least she has her own space now, and doesn't have to listen to Tamar snore or sleep talk. In her opinion that’s a weak consolation prize, and not really much of a prize at all. Her things are quickly shoved away and she heads up to grab her rations while she can. There’s only two tidemakers now, and she has a feeling her schedule is about to get a lot more packed. She stops after a few drinks, keeping herself sober enough to post a reliable watch. 

The first half is quite calm. She missed the quiet ease on the Volkvolny, the relative safety of knowing you’re surrounded by people you trust. The waves are gentle, the ship gently bobs side to side. Y/n pinches her cheeks a few times to stay awake, making small talk with her partner. The lanterns and voices on deck catch her attention. Alina’s taking the amplifier. Her eyes widen, and her heart beats a bit faster - hopefully this won’t be what kills her, there’s much more poetic ways to go out. Her eyes immediately find Tamar standing next to Tolya, the two of them looking the part of solemn sentries. Sentries for a Saint. 

The power and light that burst from her is undeniable, and y/n finds herself taking deep breaths to find her calm again. She’s lucky she didn’t fall off the rigging. Her face feels like it’s been freshly sunburnt. As always, her eyes search for Tamar first. And that’s when she knew she’d lost her. The look in her eyes. Y/n didn’t know exactly what it mean’t, just that Tamar belongs to someone now. Well, Tamar never belonged to her in the first place, and theres a strong chance she’s reading into this too much, but she’s always been particularly perceptive, and her hunches usually turn out to be right. Angry tears prick the corner of her eyes.

‘You’re a mercenary,’ she thinks to herself, ‘not a jealous, petty school girl.’ She takes a deep breath and schools her features back into a look of awe, before anyone can catch on. Someone replaces her and she takes up post at the stern, ready to help move to ship along. It’s likely someone spotted the light show Alina put on, and the best they can do it get as far away as possible. 

–

The next few weeks go by quickly, and she barely sees Tamar. Well, she sees her everywhere, but rarely interacts with her. Is y/n avoiding her? Or is Tamar avoiding y/n? They never got to celebrate. Whispers say that they may be leaving to do something with the Sun Summoner and Nikolai. Saints, she feels like a whiny child. She resolves to find out more on her next watch with Tolya. 

Later that day

“Do you think you’ll go with him?” She asks, staring out into the horizon, keeping her voice just loud enough so he’ll hear. 

“With who? Where?”

“Captain. To Ravka, with Alina.” 

Tolya’s eyes are alarmed, like he didn’t expect her to know what was going on, or what was to happen. 

“Saints Tolya, i’m not stupid.” 

“Nobody called you stupid.” 

“Maybe someone should’ve. That’s besides the point.” She turns to face him, taking her eyes off the water momentarily. “Are you going with them?” 

He sighs. “Keep looking.” 

She rolls her eyes but listens. She’s surprised when he keeps speaking. “You’re not asking about me. You’re asking about Tamar.” 

“Well, you both go everywhere together.” 

“He thought about asking you along.” Tolya says. He’s talking about Sturmhond. Or Nikolai. Depends on the situation. I know they’re going to Ravka, but to do what i’m uncertain. 

“Really?” I hummed, trying to sound as disinterested as possible, it’s not working. 

“But after we lost Hendrik and Dmitri.” 

It feels like an iron fist is gripping her heart, and she chokes out her next breath. The other Tidemakers lost against the Darkling. It’s only her and one other now.

Tolya pauses. “After we lost them, you’re needed here.” 

“Needed.” I let the words roll around my tongue. Needed here. But wanted? What if I want to be somewhere else? “Thank you for the heads up.” She gives Tolya a terse smile, trying her best to look content. I can tell he isn’t convinced, but he does smile back. 

End Flashback.

–

Three nights later, Tamar finds her. It’s dusk, and she’s sitting up on deck, deep in conversation with Kostya. She feels a tap on her shoulder, and doesn’t turn around and hesitates before turning around. Kostya glares at her and she finally does. Tamar’s standing behind her, one hand outstretched. 

Tamar doesn’t miss the side eye y/n sends to Kostya, but chooses not to comment. It shouldn’t feel like she’s headed to the gallows, but somehow it does. She takes her hand, and lets her heave her up to her feet. She shakes her hand off as soon as they stand up, and sees the hurt flash through Tamar’s eyes. It’s enough to make her start chewing on her bottom lip, 

“Come on.” She says, taking the initiative and leading them below decks to somewhere more private. They end up in her room this time, and she chooses to stand on the opposite side of the small room, awkwardly scratching the back of her neck. For once, Tamar doesn’t speak right away, instead it seems like her eyes are taking in every inch of her - memorizing every detail. Y/n keeps avoiding eye contact, leaning up against the wall and tilting her head up to stare at the overhead. 

“We’re leaving tomorrow.” Tamar says finally. 

Her heart jumps, and the same tears from a few weeks ago threaten to prick her eyes, “are you excited?” She asks, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling. 

Tamar sighs before crossing the room. Her hands cup her cheeks, guiding her back down to try and meet her eyes. “Why don’t you ever look me in the eyes?” She murmurs. Y/n doesn’t have a good answer, what’s she supposed to say?

‘I’m scared i’ll cry if I do. I know you don’t feel the same way. I’ll quite literally get lost in your eyes. It’s too intimate. It scares me.’ Instead she doesn’t say anything. 

“Give me something, please.” Tamar says, this is the most desperate she’s heard her voice. She cringes at herself when the desperation gives her a sick sense of satisfaction. Give her something? It’s been weeks and they’ve barely exchanged a word. If she wants something she can have her fury and pain. The sting that comes with feeling abandoned, discarded, tossed aside for the next big thing.  

“You want something?” She spits out through clenched teeth. Tamar takes a step back, her eyes widening slightly at her tone. Normally y/n is level-headed and calm, it’s rare to see strong emotions leak into her voice. “Weeks. You’ve rarely spoken to me. Granted I didn’t try very hard, I know you’ve been busy with your new Saint.” She struggles to keep her tone kind. “I’m happy for you, by the way, that you’ve found a purpose. And I get it, your life has changed. That doesn’t mean you had to …” Her voice breaks and she can’t finish her sentence. 

“Leave please.” She croaks. Tamar doesn’t move and y/n opens her mouth to tell her to go again, but instead she’s wrapped in a bone-crushing, enough that she can barely breathe, let alone move her arms and hug back. She doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t complain, relishes in the touch and contact. Her body melts into her, leaning slightly. Just one hug and she melts. ‘Pathetic.’ she thinks to herself. ‘You’re being pathetic.’ 

“I’m sorry.” She whispers, pulling back, and running a hand through her short hair. Y/n’s never seen Tamar like this, lost for words or confused. She always seems so self-assured, so strong in her conviction, fearless. 

“Sorry for what?” She knows the answer, but she wants to hear it - needs to hear it. Hear Tamar admit it, validate what y/n felt these last few weeks. 

“Neglecting you. I’m sorry that we didn’t get to celebrate.” 

Y/n laughs, not an amused chuckle or a happy belly laugh, one of disbelief. “If you think that’s all I cared about then you’re much less perceptive than I thought you were.” She tries to put the emphasis on ‘cared’, but it doesn’t come out that way. Care is more accurate, she still cares. 

Tamar seems confused, “I don’t understand.” Her tone is genuine and honest. Y/n feels herself soften more, a little bit of the ice melts away. She finally meets her eyes. 

“I care about you dimwit.” Tamar’s eyes narrow at the insult, but she doesn’t break eye contact. “I wanted … I still want more for us. I want to get to actually be with you, beyond just ‘celebrations’, and the occasional hug or kiss on the forehead when you remember.” 

“Why haven’t you said anything before?” 

Her voice raises slightly, “because you outrank me and I don’t want to be fired, because I thought it was obvious, because I thought you’d have said something by now.” The outranking part is true - not that it matters too much on the ship, but enough for her to be nervous. Rogue Grisha have difficulty finding safe employment in this world. Safe in the sense of nobody forcing her to serve an army or enslaving her. Her job isn’t safe by any means, but it's freedom.

“Quiet.” Tamar hushes her. 

She takes a deep breath before speaking in a normal tone. “Tell me I'm delusional.” She’d have laughed at Tamar’s expression if the situation was different. “Tell me you never wanted me. Tell me you’re leaving and not coming back.” Tamar reached out and held one of her hands. 

“You’re not delusional, I do want you, I am leaving, but I don’t know if I’m coming back.” 

“Three out of four, not bad.” 

Tamar huffs, evidently tired of the argument, before pulling her into a bruising kiss. It catches y/n by surprise but she returns the same energy.

Later, they're cuddled in her hammock together as Tamar whispers sweet things into her ear. Y/n is lost in her own world, but a pinch to her side brings her back.

“Hm?” She mumbles. 

“You need to get dressed.” 

She groans but stands up, getting some new clothes for herself. One hand braces against the wall to keep herself steady, she looks into the small mirror, her neck and chest are covered in small but deep purple bruises. Her jaw drops as she turns to look at Tamar, who just laughs at her. 

“Sit. I’ll heal them.” 

She jumps up on the chest, scooching until the back of her knees hit the edge. 

Her hands are gently as she grazes over the spots on her neck, and chest, leaving just one behind. Y/n rolls her eyes, it’s typical of her to do that - leave one in an area she can easily conceal. She heals the bite on her hand as well. The silence after becomes uncomfortable. 

“I don’t know what to say.” The words come out before she can think twice. 

“I’ll say I don’t regret a single moment of this. Of anything.” 

She lets out a small, sad smile. “I don’t either.” And brings her arms up to pull her into a gentle kiss. Nothing else needs to be said, they’ve come to an understanding. They both know it’s a goodbye kiss - a goodbye for now. 

–

The next early morning, she’s on watch as they leave. 

“Saint’s willing, we’ll meet again one day.” Her words came out low, almost like a whisper or prayer. They thankfully went unheard, and she waved to the dark sky as Tamar flew off in the hummingbird. 

Kostya clapped a comforting hand on her shoulder, “They’ll be alright.” 

She turns back, giving them a terse smile. He’d mistaken it for worry, probably a good thing. 

The crew makes themselves scarce for a while, keeping careful tabs on every hint of the Darklings location. If they were caught by him they likely would not survive, and likely would come to very painful deaths, something none of them were particularly interested in. She wonders if he would spare Grisha, she hopes not - if they were to be captured she’d rather get the same treatment as the rest of the crew, as morbid as that sounds. 

The next few months go by pretty quickly, and when she gets offered the chance to go to the Spinning Wheel, she takes it. A break from the seas will do her good. The idea of seeing Tamar doesn’t cross her mind, surprisingly. She’s become a memory - a good one, but a memory. 

– 

Spinning wheel 

It’s strange being with her crew on land. Everyone's the same, but a bit more tense. There’s a certain safety at sea - it’s more difficult to be ambushed. She’s surprised when Alina remembers her - even her name, and cheers along with the rest when she cuts the top of a mountain off. 

Y/n noticed the connection between her and Nadia almost immediately and it didn’t hurt like she thought it would, she offered her congratulations instead. 

An argument starts when Sturmhond tells her she’s going on the mission to hunt the firebird. Well, asks her, he knows he can’t really tell her to do anything. She supposes she should call him Nikolai now. 

“You’re the best tidemaker we have.” Nikolai says. 

“They could bring anyone else.” 

“Tamar asked for you.” 

“That’s the problem.” She whispers. 

He sighs, walking around the table to clasp a hand on her shoulder. “I know you two have history, but I’d feel better knowing you’re there. Tamar asked for you for a reason, and I doubt it’s to have a sordid tryst in the middle of the night.” 

Y/n’s eyes narrow and she glares at him as he laughs. “They’re taking Ana.” Ana is another friend from the Volkvolny, a Materialki that put the last amplifier on Alina. Her eyes light up, and the look on his face tells her he knows he’s won.

“Fine.” She says reluctantly. “I’ve always wanted to visit there.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“No, but it makes me feel better.” 

“Whatever it takes” he winks before leading them out of the room. 

The ambush surprises them all. She takes another look at the crew, a tidemaker isn’t completely essential, and there’s too much weight already. She can tell Nevsky is thinking the same thing. Despite her being Grisha, they became fast friends. 

“One last time?” he whispers to her. Not that they’d had times before, but she guesses he likes the dramatic effect.

“Lets do it.” She replies. He says something quiet to Alina before yelling, 

“For the 22nd.” He leaps over the side with his soldiers. 

“For Sturmhond.” She whispers before following them. Tamar’s scream is lost in the noise. 

✧₊⁺⋆.˚₊✩∘ "They were great. And a family." ∘✩₊˚.⋆⁺₊✧

Stained glass piece and a messy companion piece inspired by prompts from Melly on ao3 as a part of an exchange by @vaderkin-is-a-lightning-rod ! Crossposted on ao3

Pairing: Todobaku

Rating: Explicit

“No…I think it would be more accurate to say that I have a you fetish.” “A what fetish.” “A you fetish. Infatuation. Obsession. Whatever you want to call it, really.” To say that Katsuki has been shut up would be an absolute understatement. And, really, it is hard to make Bakugou Katsuki so speechless. And yet, he is really really at a loss for words.

“You are so pretty.”

When Shouto had first said that to Katsuki, he’d been downright appalled.

In fact, his very initial reaction was to throttle the other male. To throw a punch with every intention of knocking a tooth or two out of that annoying mouth of his.

“Do you wanna die?”Is what he had, very quickly, followed up the statement with.

Unblinkingly, Shouto shook his head. “No. Why?”

“Because why the fuck did you just say that?”

His expression was blank. Practically empty. And yet, the blond could tell exactly what he was thinking. He could tell that Shouto was not only being honest and sincere, but had absolutely no clue why he was being met with such a harsh response.

Which was aggravating.

But what could he do to someone that was so genuinely confused?

That, though, had only made him more irritated.

“Because it’s the truth. You’re really pretty. I like looking at you.”

Thank fuck he wasn’t eating or drinking anything, because Katsuki would have undoubtedly choked on it.

“Do you even hear yourself?”

At that point, Shouto stuck a finger into each ear to plug and then unplug them. He cleared his throat and then repeated himself, “It’s the truth. You’re really pretty. I like looking at you.”He then stopped and tilted his head a bit, as if pondering for a moment before continuing. “In fact, I really enjoy it. Every time I look at you I find a new thing to admire about you.”

The room felt like it was getting hotter but Katsuki wasn’t stupid.

He knew that he was as red as the left side of Shouto’s hair. Worse yet, he was also acutely aware of the rave that was raging in the depths of his stomach.

“What the fuck are you trying to say, IcyHot?”

Shouto had simply shrugged at that. “I don’t know. Just being honest. Why?”

Katsuki was baffled. Completely and utterly stumped.

Fortunately, that is where the interaction had ended.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of it at all.

Shouto would continue to drop compliment bombs on the blond. Any time. Anywhere. Whether they were alone, or accompanied by others.

Sometimes he did it outright. Blurted it out and made the entire room go silent. Their classmates would gawk, staring in apprehension as they waited for the inevitable. Which was, of course, Katsuki going off on him and threatening to kill him (though he never even laid a finger on him).

Other times, though, he’d do it covertly. He’d lean in while no one was paying attention and would say it quietly enough for only Katsuki to hear.

These times—with these quiet compliments—he always got a bit more personal. Sometimes, they’d even feel a bit…sensual. Less like a compliment and more like he was hitting on him.

Like, for example, they had all gathered in the common room to play some games and hang out. It was nothing wild. Nothing that they hadn’t already done dozens of times before.

Katsuki had gotten done lecturing Denki and Hanta about how to play the game correctly. The two took the scolding before the entire group had quickly dissolved back into its usual variety of chaos and mess. Everyone was talking over each other. Telling jokes. Laughing.

So, with them all distracted, Shouto leaned in and said, “I’m sorry. Your pretty lips were distracting me so I hadn’t heard what you said.”

That time, the blond had been drinking some water.

And so he choked on it.

Some had even shot out of his nose.

Momo had squealed and flinched back while Eijirou burst into laughter, only for many others to follow suit.

He was a bit embarrassed, sure. But, more than anything, his heart was attempting to jackhammer its way out of his chest.

He quickly made his exit with the intention of cleaning himself up, but not before going on a rampage and nearly blasting a hole into one of the couches.

It was after that, that Shouto had become even more provocative. Teasing, in a way.

He never crossed any kind of lines, but he most certainly tiptoed around some. He went just far enough without ruining any plausible deniability. Which was both impressive and infuriating. And really, Katsuki was absolutely sure that if, at any point, he voiced any discomfort or issue, Shouto would have stopped.

But he didn’t. So, in turn, Shouto didn’t.

But that plausible deniability trick sure was annoying.

Because for a long time Katsuki wasn’t sure if he was just reading too much into things. He wasn’t sure if he was just overthinking and, maybe, Shouto really was just doling out compliments. Just…without tact or forethought to what he was saying and how it sounded.

At least…that’s what he had thought before.

But now? Now he knows full well what this is.

Shouto is very clearly hitting on him. Shouto, very clearly, has feelings for him.

Katsuki had no issue with admitting to himself that he found Shouto attractive as well because…duh. That was obvious. He’d have to be working with negative brain cells to not see how handsome and good looking he is.

Katsuki also had no problem with admitting to himself that the feelings were very much mutual.

At first he hadn’t thought much of the other male. Then they took remedial lessons together and they were on friendly enough terms. But, from there, they grew closer and closer. Going back and forth between each other’s rooms to hang out and study together…alone.

The little inside jokes they’d begun to share. The way they had begun to learn each other’s expressions—to the point that they pretty much knew what the other was thinking without any words being spoken.

They got close. Very close.

But it wasn’t until Shouto began his rather unique approach to flirting that Katsuki had realized that the stirring feelings inside were not, in the least bit, friendly.

The problem he faces now, though, is trying to figure out how to take the next step.

How to verbalize to Shouto that his feelings are reciprocated.

Because, despite how blunt and tactless the both of them can be, forming his romantic feelings into words is not something Katsuki is familiar with—let alone knows how to do without sounding like a complete ass.

So instead, he bites his tongue and tries to not melt when Shouto leans in close.

The problem now, though, is that the other male has grown a lot bolder.

To the point that he’s even gotten a bit touchy. He’s not afraid to reach and grab for his hand. And, when they’re taking a break from studying to watch a movie or the latest episode of a popular anime they both like, Shouto smoothly and easily wraps his arms around his waist and cuddles him close.

Truly, it’s a wonder that he hasn’t felt his hammering heart.

But, the point is that Katsuki wants to reciprocate. Or rather, more than anything, he wants to give Shouto a taste of his own medicine. For once, he’d like to leave him a blushing, bashful mess.

So when Shouto invites him out to go shopping with him on the weekend, the blond hopes to find some kind of opening. Some kind of opportunity to finally get his revenge.

He doesn’t though.

What he thought would be some kind of cute outing on a perfectly warm sunny Saturday actually turns out to be the quest from hell itself.

Iida’s birthday is coming up and Shouto is looking to get him some stupid reference book…as if the four eyed freak doesn’t have enough of those. But, apparently, this is the last one to complete a certain collection he has.

And…well, the look of determination on his face was just so attractive that Katsuki could not help but give in.

He wishes he hadn’t though.

There’s a hundred and fuck ton of bookstores all across the city, but apparently bum fuck all have the book Shouto’s looking for.

“It’s a collector’s item.”He says as he scours the shelves intently.

Truthfully, Katsuki is a little (read: a lot) pissed off. That would have been nice to know before he had agreed to come along. They’d started their day rather early. At around ten in the morning. It is now almost two in the afternoon.

The sun is rather high in the sky and, with it being August, it’s pretty fucking hot.

They’ve stopped a couple times now for refreshing, ice cold drinks. And even though Katsuki absolutely does not mind being wined and dined, there’s only so much of this heat and this walking he can take before he feels like he’s gonna lose his mind.

They walk out of the bookstore empty-handed yet again.

“Fuck this, Four Eyes is getting a card and a new pencil case.”He angrily grits out.

Just then, though, Shouto reaches out and holds his hand. “One more store. How about that? And if it doesn’t have it then we can go with your idea.”

What a dirty fucking trick.

Especially because he’s using his cold side. He is, both literally and figuratively, cooling Katsuki off.

A dirty fucking trick indeed.

“Fine. But you owe me big time for this, Half n’ Half.”

Shouto simply smiles softly and squeezes his hand gently. “Deal. Whatever you’d like. Besides, I have a feeling this next one will have it.”

And of fucking course he’s right.

At the very next bookstore they go to, they manage to find the book that they—or more like Shouto—had been searching so diligently for.

So, thankfully, the quest is over. The dragon has been slayed. But the journey, itself, is not over. The heroes still have to return home.

And home just so happens to be on the other side of the god damn city because of course the only bookstore to have it would be so far away.

The journey back takes just about as long as they stop frequently for cold drinks. And, most likely in an attempt to appease, Shouto winds up buying just about any and every snack Bakugou shows any genuine interest in.

So…okay, it’s not like it’s torture or anything. But the fact remains that now his feet fucking hurt.

Upon finally arriving back to the dorms, the pair split up. Shouto goes up to his room to wrap and put away the gift while Katsuki readily heads to the bathroom to bathe.

On his way up to his room after a much needed, warm soak, he passes by Shouto who appears to have had the same idea.

“Wanna come to my room later?”

Katsuki simply grunts in response, but Shouto knows that that particular grunt means ‘yes’ so he smiles and then continues heading to the bathroom.

Finally able to relax, the blond all but melts into his bed. The warm water soothed most of his aching muscles so he is feeling rather loosened up and thankfully he’s not on his feet anymore.

Time flies by with him just laying there. He doesn’t realize how much time has flown, though, until Shouto is opening up his door with the passcode Katsuki had shared with him.

“I thought you agreed to come to my room.”He says, a slight pout on his face.

Katsuki glances at him, a bit surprised. He does feel a bit bad because he did agree to that. But the thought of having to get up and walk, no matter how close the other’s room might actually be, makes him want to punch a couple holes into the wall.

“My feet are killing me.”He says instead. “No fucking way I’m getting up again.”

Shouto’s pout dissolves then. “Fair…but you could have at least texted me to tell me that.”

Which is true. Katsuki hadn’t been thinking about that.

He responds with a grunt but, once again, Shouto knows him well enough to know that that particular grunt means that he’s sorry and will do better next time. So, with that, the subject is dropped.

“I am sorry about dragging you all across the city today,”He says as he seats himself on the foot of Katsuki’s bed. “I knew it was a fairly rare book, but I didn’t think it would take us that long—and far—to find it.”

The grunt this time means, you’re forgiven.

And yet, despite knowing that, Shouto still wears a slight frown on his face.

“Your feet really do hurt, huh?”

“You think I’d be lying about that?”

He shakes his head and then his expression darkens. Before Katsuki can take it back and try to lighten the mood, Shouto’s expression is lightening.

“Would you like me to massage your feet?”

“Huh?”

“I did say I’d do anything to make up for it. And even though you’re trying to make me feel better about it, I do still feel guilty.”

Okay…fair.

Besides, a foot rub doesn’t sound too bad.

Katsuki smirks and raises his feet up only to plop them into Shouto’s lap. “Well then, get to it.”

He’d meant to feel superior, and yet he feels like he’s been had. Like he’d fallen into Shouto’s trap, because the way that he readily begins almost makes it seem like he just knew the blond would agree.

Still, he’s not too bad with his hands.

Shouto focuses on one foot first, digging the heel of his thumbs in with just enough pressure to satisfy rather than hurt. The way his hands expertly massage up and down the expanse of his foot makes Katsuki question whether he’s done this before.

Briefly.

Only briefly.

Because then his eyes are fluttering shut and he is relaxing into the touch.

Perhaps, though, he’s relaxing a little too much.

Soft moans of approval slip from his lips. He does not hear them himself, though. Not until Shouto digs in a bit dipper and the soft moans morphs into a stable, lurid whimper.

His eyes snap open and the apple of his cheeks begin to grow warm.

“I—”

“Can I kiss you right now?”

Katsuki was just about to suggest that they put an end to this massage session. He could feel his dignity crumble and wanted to hold onto what little of it he had left, but Shouto’s question stops him dead in his tracks.

“What?”

“Can. I. Kiss. You. Right. Now.”

He says it slowly. Deliberately. So that Katsuki hears it all and does not mistake or misunderstand his words in the slightest.

“I—um…yes.”

His reply is soft and hesitant. And just as his eyes are about to close—readying for Shouto to lean in—he realizes that that is not the case. Instead, Shouto raises his leg just a bit higher and kisses his foot. First one, then the other.

“What the hell?”

“You said I could.”

“I thought—”He stops, not even sure of what he should say. When Shouto asked if he could kiss him he was not expecting for the other to kiss his fucking feet, of all things. “Do you have a foot fetish or something?”

Shouto chuckles and then presses his lips to Katsuki’s other foot. “No…I think it would be more accurate to say that I have a you fetish.”

“A what fetish.”

“A you fetish. Infatuation. Obsession. Whatever you want to call it, really.”

To say that Katsuki has been shut up would be an absolute understatement. And, really, it is hard to make Bakugou Katsuki so speechless. And yet, he is really really at a loss for words.

Besides, what the fuck is he even supposed to say to that?

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to say anything. Because Shouto just continues right along, as if he hasn’t dropped the bomb of all bombs.

“From the top of your head, to the bottom of your feet.”And then he kisses the soles of his feet. First the left, then the right. “I am in love with every inch of you. Inside and out.”

You know what? Katsuki gives up.

Whatever expectation or hope he had of turning the tables and leaving Shouto speechless and blushing has absolutely disappeared. He lost. Fair and fucking square. And it’s not like he can even bother to be annoyed by that, because the way Shouto is looking at him is making the fireworks go off in his stomach.

And as if he can’t do anything more shocking, Shouto’s lips engulf his big toe as he begins sucking on it.

It feels weird.

Hot. Wet. A bit slimy, honestly. But the more he gets into it—the more he sucks on it—the less he’s focusing on the action itself. Shouto’s tongue circles the tip of his toe, licking as he sucks. His hands gently yet firmly hold him place and the whole time, he does not break eye contact.

It does not take long for his mind to travel and for Katsuki to wonder what it would feel like if it weren’t his toe, but rather his cock that was in Shouto’s mouth.

Once that thought crosses his mind, it’s practically all he can think about. And, for the first time, he’s really focusing on Shouto’s mouth. His lips. How they look—glassy and slick with spit yet soft and inviting. He notes how velvet sleek his tongue is. How skillful his tongue is.

Another whimper leaves his mouth.

He’s embarrassed.

Katsuki is embarrassed.

Getting so worked up about getting his toe sucked is embarrassing.

But before he can retreat back into himself, Shouto is releasing his toe from his mouth. Instead, he presses a kiss to his ankle.

“I love your long, strong legs.”He says as he leaves a kiss. “And your thick, muscular thighs.” This time, the kiss is sharp. His teeth drag along the skin exposed by his athletic shorts. He nips and sucks, not satisfied until he’s left a small mark in his wake.

Up his body, Shouto trails. He leaves kisses everywhere as he worships his body. As he tells him about every part of him that he loves.

Like his small, delicate waist. His taut, defined abs. His big, broad chest. His shoulders. His hands. His neck. His everything, really. And then, of course—

“And your sweet, pretty lips.”

It starts off slow. Gentle. Sweet. Delightful. The way Shouto kisses him makes him feel warm. Makes him feel giddy. His hands gingerly cup his cheeks as their lips lock. But the longer they stay connected—entwined—in this way, the less sweet the kiss is and the more hungry it becomes.

The more hungry he becomes.

Katsuki wraps his arms around Shouto’s neck and pulls him in closer as he slips his tongue into his mouth.

He’s desperate for a taste. He yearns for more.

A moan crawls up from his throat as he loses himself to the kiss. As he tastes Shouto for the first time and falls in love all over again—as he realizes that the male on top of him tastes like mint, with a heavy undertone of addiction.

He grips Shouto tightly, holding on for dear life as he feels his sanity float away with every passing moment that their lips stay locked.

Katsuki doesn’t even realize that he’s begun to rut into Shouto’s thigh that is firmly planted between his legs. But Shouto does. Of course he does. How could he not?

Much to the blond’s dismay, the kiss is interrupted as Shouto finally pulls back. Perhaps for air, but Katsuki was perfectly fine without it. He didn’t need it. It hadn’t even crossed his mind.

He pouts.

Full blown pouts—completely and entirely upset that Shouto would pull away from him for something as inconsequential as air. But then the other male brings his hand up and holds his face gingerly.

Katsuki wonders what it is that he’s up to, but then Shouto is slipping his fingers between his lips.

He does not need any coaching for what to do next.

His lips close around the fingers and he sucks. He licks. He slobbers and spits.

“Good boy.”Shouto mutters and then his now thoroughly coated fingers are finding their way past the waistband of Katsuki’s shorts and boxers.

Normally, he’d argue that he’s not a dog. That he’s not a little kid either. But right here and right now, he doesn’t mind it at all. Much to his own surprise, truly. Because the compliment sends electricity through his body. He wants to hear that more. So much more. In fact, he needs to. If not, it really feels like the world will end.

“I love you, Bakugou Katsuki.”Shouto says as his fingers coat Katsuki’s cock with saliva. “I love everything about you.” He is teasing him. The tips of his fingers ghost over the blond’s aching cock. He doesn’t really touch him. Not yet. “I love you when you’re angry. When you’re sad. Happy. Moody.” Finally, he wraps his hand around him. But he doesn’t do anything. Just simply holds him as he twitches and aches and desperately desires for more. “I have loved you for so long. I love you with my whole heart. My whole soul. With every inch of my body…and I know you feel the same way.”

Finally—finally—he begins stroking him.

Slow, yet purposeful.

It’s enough to have Katsuki’s toes curling and his back arching.

His trembling hands grip Shouto’s shoulders and once he finally reaches some kind of mental plateau—where he can finally gather his thoughts and manage to form coherent sentences—he replies. “You do? How did you know?”

Shouto smirks.

“Because I know you.”

He tries to rut into his hand. He tries to initiate more, but a firm hand is placed on his hips to keep him right where Shouto wants him.

And, clearly, he wants him teetering on the edge of insanity.

“Not yet.”Is what he says, smirking when Katsuki begins to grow frustrated. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Say what?”

Shouto clicks his tongue and slows his pace down even more. “You know what.”

The blond nearly chokes. He feels like he’s already been run ragged. This game he’s playing puts himself at an obvious disadvantage. Still, he can’t help but push back.

“Why do I have to say it if you already know it?”

Shouto leans in and nips at his neck. As he strokes his cock, his hand squeezes slightly as it reaches the head before loosening as it glides back down.

The act has Katsuki seeing stars and, once again, his back arches off the bed. He can’t help the way he pulls on the hair of the nape of his neck and any attempt to quiet down his moans has been completely abandoned.

“Because everything tastes sweeter when it comes from your lips.”

And then he does it again, but this time his nail digs ever so slightly into his sensitive tip.

That last bit of pride he had that he’d been trying to preserve completely dissolves. The last, tiny bit of reservation he had disappears and Katsuki fully gives in.

He’s a trembly, teary eyed mess as he cries out. “I love you. I love you so fucking much, Shouto. I’m so—fuck, that feels good—in love with you. I was just too shy and prideful to speak up.”

Finally, Katsuki gets what he’s so desperately sought after.

Shouto’s pace increases while his lips descend upon his. He is so completely and utterly enveloped by the other male, but does not mind it one bit. Rather, he wants even more.

“Shouto—please.”

His ministrations stop and, regretfully he pulls away from him once again. This time, it is to look Katsuki in the eyes. To make sure that he’s sure. And though no words are exchanged, everything is clearly expressed.

“Where—”

“Middle drawer. Beneath the old homework papers.”He instructs.

While Shouto retrieves what he’s looking for, the blond shimmies out of his shorts and underwear and then takes off his shirt and throws it to the side. He then begins to pull at Shouto’s shirt, wanting it, too, to be gone.

Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long.

In his hands are a box of condoms, lube, and…a vibrator.

The unearthing of the last item has the blond growing a bit embarrassed.

Not that it’s weird to masterbate but…well, it’s one thing to do it and it’s another thing entirely for someone to unearth your toys.

“I just…”He mumbles, looking away. “I would sometimes—”

But then Shouto is leaning over and pecking his lips. “S’okay,”He tells him. And then he tosses it behind himself and begins undressing. “But, you won’t be needing that anymore.”

“No?”

“Not like you’ve needed it before, at least.”He replies as he, too, is finally stripped bare.

It’s not like Katsuki has never seen Shouto shirtless. In fact, he’s seen him naked before. The dorm baths aren’t exactly private and besides, they’ve taken a few trips to the hot springs during the winter time with their now blended friend group.

But that was something else entirely.

Besides, he definitely tried his hardest to not look at Shouto back then.

This is different.

He is hesitant as his hands explore the strong, sturdy chest in front of him. Up and over his solid, reliable shoulders and down his toned, muscular back. His hands then come back around at his waist, allowing him to caress Shouto’s cut abs.

When he looks up at him once again, he realizes that Shouto has been staring at him—watching him—intently, this whole time. And if he had felt warm before, he feels hot now. Like he’s burning under his intense, ravenous gaze.

“S-Sorry…I’ve just always wanted to do that.”

Shouto smirks at that, “You don’t have to apologize.”

And then he grabs the lube and removes the cap.

One lubed finger circles his rim, forcing a loud mewl out of him. His head is tipped back, pushing against the pillow beneath him while his eyes are squeezed shut. His breath hitches once again but he immediately chokes on it when that finger enters him.

Shouto works it slowly into him before pulling it out and does so over and over again. His pace is slow. Too slow.

But just as Katsuki is about to complain, Shouto wraps his other hand around his cock. Up and down slowly, teasingly. His lubed palm drags down his shaft, squeezing slightly as he reaches the base.

“S-Shou—”

“That’s it, let me hear you.”

Fuck.

And then, just as he is getting distracted by the way he jerks him off, Katsuki lets out a loud, drawn out groan when Shouto slips a second finger inside of him.

His hand and fingers work in tandem, causing the blond to grow weak. Weary. It’s too much. The pleasure has him seeing fucking stars despite his eyes being closed so tightly still.

And then he adds a third finger.

Being stretched like this is nothing new.

Aside from the dildo Shouto found, Katsuki has a few other toys hidden here and there. But this—being stretched and toyed with by Shouto—is new. And intense. The good kind of intense. The kind that has him babbling and drooling as his pathetic moans climb higher and higher in volume.

His legs begin to shake and his breathing becomes labored, but just as he is about to orgasm Shouto stops.

The look of surprise and betrayal on his face causes Shouto to chuckle lightly.

“Not yet.”Is what he says. “Not without me.”

“Then hurry up.”

A pinch to the thigh has the blond begrudgingly biting his lip to shut himself up. So, instead of shit talking he watches Shouto put the condom on and wipe the residual lube onto it.

“Does it fit okay?”He asks, slightly nervous.

The other male nods. “You have quite the range of sizes in that drawer.”

“I have toys that come in different sizes…”

Rather than respond, Shouto taps his dick at Katsuki’s waiting entrance and then smirks at the clear desperation on his face.

“I’m gonna wipe that stupid smirk off your face.”

“Go ahead and try.”

And he fully intends to. He fully intends on saying or doing something that will finally get Shouto to stop appearing so smug, but then he is slowly slipping his dick inside of him and whatever plan of attack for revenge he was concocting disappears in an instant.

Once again, he goes slow. But this time the blond fully appreciates it.

Being filled by a sex toy and being filled by a real dick are two separate things entirely.

He feels so…full. A different, more fulfilling kind of full.

That “full” feeling soon becomes a “stuffed” feeling which makes his head spin and his mind grow hazy.

Katsuki has never been too hung up on size. He’d experimented with a large toy once but found himself quite content with the more average, to small sized ones. But this—this feeling of being filled to absolute capacity and then some—it turns him practically feral.

And while Shouto rests inside of him, giving Katsuki time to get used to his size, they go back to kissing.

Somewhere between casual and frenzied, they steadily attempt to devour one another. It is a push and pull. A give and take. Tasting and teasing each other until, eventually, the kissing is no longer enough. Until, eventually, Katsuki is rutting into him and whimpering—pathetic and desperate.

Thankfully, Shouto gets the hint.

As he sucks on Katsuki’s neck, leaving more marks along his previously unblemished skin, he pulls out partially only to thrust back inside of him. Shallow. Steady. Slow. They’re both moaning, hardly forming any coherent sentences, but they’re not rushing it.

As he rocks into him, there is a slight sting and burn from the stretch of his cock that is hard to ignore.

It—the sting, the slight burning sensation—feels so good. Feels so addictive that Katsuki has to remind himself to be good. To not rush things. It is difficult though, and soon he loses his battle with his patience.

“Shouto, please.”

He has a smile on his face that is completely blase.“Please what? You gotta tell me what you want.”

Katsuki opens his mouth, to clarify, but finds himself unable to speak as Shouto’s next thrust becomes particularly deep. And he’s just so reactive. His mouth may be able to lie, but his body can’t and it is very apparent that he’s loving the way he’s being treated with this certain flavor of levity.

“Shouto…”He says, whining like a petulant child. “You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

He feels like he’s losing his mind.

His thrusts have gotten just a tad bit rough. A delightful kind of roughness despite not at all picking up speed. Every time he drives his cock inside of Katsuki, the blond’s body jolts and a high pitched whimper is forced out.

“So greedy, Katsuki.”Shouto whispers, watching as he falls apart. He licks his lips then, and when he speaks again his voice is louder but notably rougher—more ragged.“Such a greedy little hole. So eager to be filled. Too bad you won’t just come out with it and ask properly.”

Katsuki’s back to arches and he yelps loudly after another particularly harsh thrust. His hands, which had been tangled in Shouto’s bicolored locks, are now holding onto his back.

Shouto smiles down at him. “C’mon Katsuki. Just say it. Then you’ll get it.” And when he thrusts this time, he must angle his hips differently because Katsuki feels his brain melt. He clenches around his cock and he begins to writhe underneath him, nails dragging down and leaving scratch marks down his back as his own body uncontrollably jolts and shudders.

The marks on his back will definitely be hard to explain later.

But right now, later doesn’t matter.

Katsuki can feel his face turn red and his hips begin to buck, rocking into every thrust. His entire body begins to tremble and his needy hole twitches again.

So Shouto leans down and drags his tongue along his chest. His tongue circles around Katsuki’s nipple and any response he could have gotten is lost the moment he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth. And that’s how he learns that his nipples are very sensitive.

“Ah!”Katsuki groans, his body trembling. As he moves over to the next nipple to give it the same treatment, his fingers grab hold of his freed nipple and pinches it.

“I love that you’re all mine.”Shouto says as he lets Katsuki’s nipple fall from his mouth.

He kisses up his neck and licks along his marked neck. With every thrust, his fingers twist and pull Katsuki’s nipples, dragging more moans from the panting blond.

“I—”He squeaks out, much to his own surprise.

Of all the sounds he’s made tonight, he has never—not even once—heard himself fucking squeak like that.

“Look at you.”Shouto says, continuing to play with his nipples as he fucks him slow and deep. “You could get all that you wanted…if only you would just ask.”

He’s got a mischievous look in his eyes that Katsuki doesn’t trust. And for good reason, because then Shouto wraps his hand around his cock and begins jerking him off once again.

That—the combination of his cock drilling into him at that angle, and his hand around his cock—is what finally does him in. Is what turns him into a teary eyed, begging mess.

“Please Shouto,”He cries as he claws at his boyfriend’s shoulders, leaving long trails of red marks in his wake. “Fuck me. Faster. Deeper. I don’t know, I just need more. Please. Please.”

“See? Was that too hard?”

Katsuki’s eyes all but roll to the back of his head as Shouto finally switches his pace from slow and deep to something much more desperate. And with this level of fervor and intensity, something tells the blond that he wouldn’t have been able to hold out for much longer anyway.

Too bad he’d lost the battle of nerves before Shouto had.

The sound of skin meeting skin enters the current cacophony of lewd and obscene noises that fill the air. And somewhere, in the back of his mind where he still has coherent thought, Katsuki is thankful that the rooms were built to be soundproof. But then he involuntarily begins thrashing about as cries of passion slip from his lips and all that’s on his mind is Shouto and his dick.

“Next time I’ll fuck those thick, sexy thighs of yours.”Shouto mumbles through gritted teeth. “Or maybe these juicy tits of yours.”

“They’re not—”

The argument is lost and replaced with a mewl that has him sounding like a pathetic bitch in heat

“They are tits.”Shouto replies, somehow still managing to be able to entertain such a silly argument. “Look at the way they bounce while I fuck you.”And then he stops his ministrations momentarily. Just long enough to push his pecs together to create cleavage. “But that’s okay baby, I’ll make sure to show you just how much I love these tits of yours.”

Baby? Baby?

And yet, he doesn’t mind the term of endearment. No, he loves it actually. But only because it’s Shouto.

However, as much as he loves it, he’s losing his patience.

“Okay—fuck, fine. They’re tits.”He says, no longer having the mental capacity to continue any kind of back and forth. “Enjoy them as much as you want but please, don’t stop. I’m so fucking close.”

Thankfully, Shouto shuts the fuck up and focuses on making him cum.

It does not take long after that for him to tip over the edge.

Katsuki’s legs tremble then lock as his nails dig into Shouto’s back. He can’t help the way he loudly cries out, as tsunami like waves of euphoria and pleasure wash over him. He’s made a complete mess of himself as cum splatters over his stomach, up onto his chest, and even on his neck and chin.

But he doesn’t care.

And as Shouto pulls out, taking the condom off to jerk himself to finish, he moans and babbles chopped up iterations of Katsuki’s name.

More cum splatters across his body as Shouto finishes, finally collapsing down beside him.

Between them there is no conversation. Only panting and heavy breathing. But soon that, too, lulls and they are met with a blissful air of silence.

…Until the cum starts to grow cold on his skin.

He elbows Shouto, careful to not make even more of a mess than there already is. “Hey, lover boy, clean me off.”

For a brief moment Shouto doesn’t move. He just stares, clearly very satisfied with the scene before him. But when Katsuki elbows him again, he finally gets up and trudges into the small ensuite washroom. He comes out moments later with a damp towel.

Just as he had taken his time kissing nearly every inch of his body, Shouto now takes his time wiping down every inch of him too.

It’s like another—though nonverbal this time—profession of love.

He disappears back into the washroom only to come out moments later, clearly having wiped himself off too.

The moment he is back down beside the blond, he is pulling him in close and cuddling him.

Which is nice. Comforting. Blissful.

Fatigue rests heavy on them both, but there’s just enough energy left to kiss once more.

Softly. Lazily.

No fervor or desperation involved.

And when they finally pull away from one another—both of them with drooping, heavy eyelids—they smile at one another.

“I love you Katsuki.”

“I love you, Shouto.”

————————-

Weeks go by and September has rolled in.

It is yet another weekend that, thankfully, the students are not bogged down with outside hero work or other such responsibilities.

Katsuki, however, made the unfortunate mistake of thinking that he could somehow bake in peace.

But of course not. Of course he can’t bake in peace.

He had been discussing various fall recipes for sweets with Satou when the both of them just decided to get into the kitchen and bake. It’s not like there was much to do anyway and besides, he respects anyone who has notable talent or skill.

And Satou is certainly a skilled baker.

So he doesn’t mind him being in the kitchen with him.

It’s everyone else that’s the problem.

“This isn’t some kind of fucking cooking show.”He barks out for what feels like the nth time, “Stop fucking ogling us.”

“Just one cookie, please Kaachan?”Denki begs despite having already failed miserably at attempting to steal one. The incident resulted in him, literally, getting kicked out the kitchen.

But of course he hasn’t learned his lesson.

A chorus of agreement ripples through the small crowd that has formed and he can feel himself getting ready to explode.

If they all grab a cookie then there won’t be any left for Shouto and the whole reason why he had even thought about baking was to make something for him. So if he doesn’t get one, it will defeat the whole purpose and only serve to severely tick him off.

Just then, Izuku joins the crowd and announces his return with an obnoxious, “I’m back!”

He’d gone out to finally get the new AllMight figurine he’d been ranting about for the past week. And, of course, he asked Shouto to go along. To which the answer had been a “yes”.

So, if Izuku is back then that means—

“I’m back.”

One hand slips through the side of his apron to wrap around him while the other grabs his chin and turns his head. Shouto presses a short, sweet kiss to his lips.

Katsuki is certainly in the mood for more. But he’d rather not get too hot and heavy with his boyfriend in front of their classmates and friends. So instead, he settles for what he can get at the moment.

The hands that had been reaching out, desperately trying to snatch a cookie off the plate, have disappeared.

It’s so quiet a fly fart could be heard from across the room.

Not that the two of them mind…or notice, for that matter.

Haym (Yellow) Masterlist

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Headcanons

[Fluff] Haym's reaction to receiving flowers from his S/O

Fanfics

(Working on it!) [Fluff] Pranks (Working on it!) [Fluff] Getting Competitive (Working on it!) [Comfort Fluff] Here For You (Working on it!) [Fluff/Angst] Distractions Pt 1 - Pt 2 (Request from A03) [Angst/Fluff] Haym X Female Reader - Just An Act