#ALL I COULD THINK ABOUT IS THAT ONE CRACK VERSE WE SPOKE ABOUT

[witchcraftandburialdirt]

OH MINE GOD,😳😳 I ACCIDENTALLY 🙈🙈 HATH SENT😳 THOU A PICTURE OF MINE COCK AND BALLS🍆🍆...PRITHEE DELETE IT!❌❌🛑! 'LEST...THOU DESIRE TO LOOK?😏😏 HAHA I JEST..🤣🤣, DELETE IT.🛑❌..SHOULD THEE CRAVE..?😳🙈... HAHA NAY,❌ BANISH IT.🛑🛑..'LEST?🙈😳

── 𝐔𝐍𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ── MODERN VERSE

The artist pauses as he reads over the lengthy, cringe inducing text his beloved Knight had sent him - part of him secretly curses Vitorrio for fucking around with those ancient runes and bringing this man to the present, but they had grown close. Well, based on this text - and the lingering ache in Haruko's hips - they'd grown much more than just close. Haruko can't help but snicker, wondering just how far Tarhos' had gotten in his "iPhone for Dummies" book - and no, the artist had made it very much a point to not inform his handsome friend about what "dummies" meant nowadays as a slangterm. Regardless, the text brought a smile to his face; he needed some humor today with the sleet and rain pounding outside of his door; he was basically trapped in a dead shop until it let up. He should have just brought Tarhos with him - he'd even left Bonnie with him since she seemed so lovey dovey over him.

[ 3:37pm Haruko -> Old Man ]: I'm really curious how long it took you to text that, but I'll ask that question later. Lest, I guess. Lay it on me big boy - the shop is fucking dead anyway so I could use some entertainment.

[ 3:37pm Haruko -> Old Man ]: And I get you think you're some macho man ( I mean based on how I had to stumble out this morning at least heheh) but don't you dare pull that "Oh my Maiden is alone, I must aid her!" shit - the weather is fucking terrible out and I don't need you getting a cold. But I can think of another way we can have fun.

Ah. Same chiding as always,

[ 3:37pm Haruko -> Old Man ]: When the phone buzzes, hit the green circle that pops up and put the top of the phone to your ear. Think you can do that for me, baby boy?

[skylarmoon71]

Miguel O Hara (Across the Spider-Verse) - Extra 1: Genius.

From that point on, you both had an understanding. 

You carried out your assignments diligently and Miguel was never shy with the praise. You would unintentionally crack some new code or discover an upgrade for his systems that really helped in the long run.

You were consistent, driven and you always volunteered for the more tedious missions even when others were a bit skeptical. He found himself relaxing a bit more.

As hard as it was, in the event that anything ever happened to him, he felt secure knowing that you could step up to fill his shoes. It was probably the most calm he felt in years.

“The anomaly on earth 57 has been subdued. I’ve added in my report. Do you need anything else?”

You were just looking at him expectantly, and Miguel stopped for a moment. He’s been trying to work himself to getting closer to you. Learning more about you.

What were cases like that you handled?

How did they develop the program that you’ve so skillfully added into his set up?

Did you have someone waiting for you back home?

Maybe that was the most glaring one.

“I’m okay. I think we covered all the alerts for now. If there are any more readings you’ll be the first to know.”

A coward’s way out.

“I understand. I’m glad I could help.”

You didn’t say anymore, just turned, marching out of there ready for another task or mystery to solve. Miguel ran a hand through his hair.

“You have to actually talk to her if you want to make progress, boss.” Lyla’s teasing tone did not escape him.

“Don’t make me reprogram you.”

“You wouldn’t do that. You love me.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

She made a zipping motion across her lips.

~The Dining Hall~

“I’m telling you, he didn’t yell at me once yesterday.” Peter spoke.

You were in the cafeteria with Peter, Hobby Pavitr and Gwen.

“Maybe he’s on his period.” Hobbie commented.

Gwen and Pavitr bursted out in a fit of laughter and Peter tried to hold his in. You munched on your burger quietly as they went back and forth with possibilities at Miguel’s recent change in mood.

“What do you think (Y/N)?” Gwen asked.

Swallowing, you take a sip of your drink.

“What do I think about Miguel?”

“Yeah, don’t you think he’s a bit of a hardass.” Peter inquires

“I wouldn’t use those exact words. I believe he has a lot on his shoulders. He’s responsible for so many lives. In a sense, he holds himself accountable if anything were to occur. From my perspective he’s an amazing leader. He’s very focused on all his duties. He’s very understanding of my strengths and he doesn’t undermine my intelligence.”

The space went quiet as you continued.

“Although he has a short fuse, I believe it stems from his need to control every situation. He’s worried that if he lowers his guard, then he’ll risk the lives of others. He truly cares about the people under him, even if he doesn’t truly express it often. I hope one day I could be just as amazing as he is. Both physically and intellectually.”

They all just blink, and then a smirk stretches on Hobbie’s lips.

“Navy’s got a crush on the boss.”

“A crush?”

You ask with a tilt of your head.

“You like him. Like how a boy likes a girl.” Patvir says it wistfully, palm on his cheek and Gwen smacks his shoulder with a laugh.

You’re trying to figure out if they’re correct about the assumption. It’s true you do hold a great deal of respect for him.

How could you not?

“Don’t think about it too hard kid.” Peter states.

“You do realize that I’m only a few years younger than you Benjamin.”

“Oooooo! She called you Benjamin, you’re in trouble.” Gwen teases.

Peter persists to apologize and state that the mask is a bit deceiving. You merely smile as they go back and forth commenting how he’s the only one that looks like an old guy in his suit.

The rest of your break is just playful banter.

You spend the better part of the day running through all you can on crushes and how to determine if you have someone that falls into that bracket.

It’s often difficult for you to forget about them even when they aren’t in the room.

You appreciate some aspect of what they do and long to be close, or mirror their values.

It could stem from a deep respect or even admiration.

There’s so much information and you’re a little alarmed at how much it aligns with your views of Miguel.

That afternoon as you’re heading back to work with Miguel, you can’t seem to get it out of your head. The second you step inside, Miguel almost anticipates your arrival.

“I need your help to go through a few of these reports from the last assignment.

“Of course, but first, can I ask you something?”

“Si.”

His eyes are still on the computers, so you aren’t sure if he’s paying attention or not, but you still ask the question.

“Have you ever had a crush on someone?”

He stumbles at the statement, now looking at you.

“Qué..”

“I’ve never truly felt connected to anyone. Not until I joined this society. It’s understandable that I would feel comfortable here. We all share a unique set of skills that are similar in many ways. We’ve all been through different traumas. Yet, out of all the people that I’ve met, both in my universe and yours, the only person I’ve ever really felt connected to is you.”

Miguel is wondering if he’s suffered from a serious blow.

“Is it possible that I might have romantic feelings for you? If so, what am I supposed to do about them? Social norms dictate that we spend time together, find common interests, and plan activities. But all of these are things that I’ve already accomplished with you. How do I get closer? I want to get closer, I want to understand.”

Miguel is quite honestly out of his element. Your straightforward personality is maybe a little too much for him.

“I’m..”

He’s not sure what to say to that.

“Come on big guy, you can do better than that. You’ve been dying for this kind of progress for months.”

Lyla’s sudden appearance and statement are a bit of a shock to you.

“LYLA!”

She’s gone with a laugh just as quickly and his frown deepens.

“For months…You’ve held similar feelings as me for months..”

He hadn’t exactly intended to be outed. Miguel intends to explain, but now you won’t look at him, and you take a step back.

“Did you keep it to yourself because you knew how difficult it would be to have a relationship with someone like me?”

It’s apparent that you’ve completely misunderstood.

“You're wrong.”

You look up.

“I’m not any better than you in this field. What I do, leading this organization, makes sense to me. Relationships don’t.”

His eyes shift and suddenly you feel foolish for just jumping to conclusions.

“It’s easier to stay focused on work, that way no one gets hurt.”

“That’s very lonely. “

He knows. But he’s used to it.

“Would you at least consider giving it a try?”

You look so hopeful and he feels it tug at his heart.

“I-I’ll try to be more normal. I’ve gotten better at physical contact. If we take small steps in no time I’ll be-”

“No. Don’t change anything about yourself.”

Your gaze softens at his words. He takes a step forward. Not close enough to touch, just enough that you can see him, feel him.

“I do want to try, but you shouldn’t have to compromise for anyone. Whatever you’re comfortable with, that’s what we’ll do. I’m not in a rush. “

You can’t believe it. It’s almost like he was put on this earth just for you.

“Are you sure..”

“I’m positive.”

You’re almost tearing up, and he just reaches out a hand, brushing his finger against your cheek. You don’t pull away or flinch.

The contact brings warmth.

The kind you never knew you needed until now.

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

I See You

Astarion x Y/N - drabble - 1K WC

Masterlist

Warnings: gorgon reader, self doubt, Astarion being a soft boi

---------------------------

You always had your cowl on. It covered your eyes and all of your hair, it was one of the first things Astarion noticed about you when you started traveling together. You had rejected all of his physical advantages and when he confessed he actually felt something for you, you were honestly quite shocked. You had tried your best to keep your new companions at arm's length. They were sweet people, you wanted to protect them. You liked Astarion too, and begrudgingly you admitted that to him. He was elated, as were you. You liked that he was slow to touch. He only ever touched your hands. He tried to hold your face once, but when he saw you move away from him he only smiled understandingly. He never pushed you. But as of late you could sense a question building up inside him. You became a bit reserved, fearing the worst. 

“Darling…” Astarion called into your tent.

You scrambled to flip your hood up “Yes?” you said as you slipped your glasses on. 

He slipped inside, the soft orange glow of candles tinting his skin. “I… Can we talk?” 

You nodded, the lump in your throat would give you away if you spoke. 

He sat on the floor with you, random pillows and blankets strewn about creating a comfortable environment. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions… and please know I am not trying to be rude when I ask them…” his voice was gentle, you could feel his sincerity.

Your tense muscles eased a bit, “Alright.” you said kindly.

“Your hood… it hides a lot of you… May I inquire as to why?” he said as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles, holding your hand. 

You froze for a moment. In all honesty, you knew you could only live in blissful denial for so long. You knew this day would come and you would have to reveal your true self to him. You let out a shaky sigh before answering “It’s because of what I am.” you said flatly.

“What do you mean?” he questioned, you could hear his confusion. 

“I’m… I’m a gorgon.” you whispered.

“Pardon?” he asked, a bit of disbelief in his tone. 

You slowly pulled your hood off. Snakes of all shapes and sizes tousled about, finally free of their cage. You kept your sunglasses on but your eyes remained glued to the floor. The tent was so quiet, all you could hear was the wriggle and hisses of your snakes. 

You felt his finger tilt your chin upwards. “My sweet, is that all? Were you afraid I would think differently of you?” 

“Do you know what gorgons can do?” you asked, and eyebrow raising.

“If I’m honest, I’m not extraordinarily well versed in the creatures of the far realms. I’ve heard of gorgons but nothing specific comes to mind.” his cheeks would have tinged with blush if they could.

“We aren’t creatures… we are monsters. Hideous and… cursed.” you curled into yourself, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“How so?” he asked with a slight scoff. You were amazing, a monster is the last thing you could be. 

“Our eyes… they turn the living to stone. Statues frozen in fear for eternity.” a tear slipped down your face. 

Astarion moved his hand up to your face slowly. Your mind screamed at you to move back but you didn’t. He held your face, wiping the tears away. He took your glasses off in a swift motion. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feel for your glasses with your hand. 

“Sneak a peek…” his lips whispered next to your ear.

“I can’t…” you responded, a shiver running down your spine from his comment.

“Trust me.” he kissed over your jaw before nipping your lip and kissing you.  

“Astarion please…” you whimpered out.

“Trust me.” he repeated as he kissed just below your eyes.

You cracked them open ever so carefully, just barely letting light hit your eyes. You caught a glimpse of him before you squeezed them shut. “I don’t want to scare you…” 

A soft chuckle seeped out of Astarion, “Little love, there is nothing to be afraid of.” he assured you. 

He held you close, you felt safe. You wanted nothing more than to relent but how could you? If he became stone you could never forgive yourself. He was your first friend, your first lover. You can’t, and yet you feel yourself open your eyes. Tears slipped down your cheeks as your snake-like eyes adjusted to the sudden light. You focused on Astarion. Wow. He was beautiful; time stood still as you two gazed at each other. Every detail of him burned into your brain. This was the first time you two could truly see each other. The air between you was thick with tension. He moved first, crashing his lips onto yours. The kiss softened immediately, a delicate waltz between the two of you. Every fiber of your being was consumed by him. You pulled away, gasping for air while you held his face in your hands. 

“I see you…” he whispered against your lips.

“You’re not afraid? Not… disgusted?” you asked, your voice wobbled. 

Astarion tiled your chin up, your eyes met his. Red like garnet. Sharp, yet soft. “Never.” he said as he kissed your cheek.

You cracked a small smile “Why aren’t you stone?” you wondered aloud as you caressed his face, kissing his neck lovingly. 

“You turn the living to stone.” he repeated what you had told him.

It clicked suddenly, “You’re… undead.” you said aloud, piecing things together.

“Can’t get anything past you.” Astarion teased.

You chuckled at him, one of your smaller snakes landing a playful nip on the arch of his cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…” you whispered, looking away from him.

“You weren’t ready, I can understand that better than most darling.” He said pulling you close to lay against him. 

You hummed in agreement, “We should sleep…” you yawned as you snuggled into him further, pulling a blanket over you both. 

“Goodnight my love…” he whispered against your forehead, long after he felt your breaths even out and your body relax completely with his.

“Love… you..” you mumbled almost inaudibly as you adjusted your position half asleep. 

Astarion’s heart flipped at your words, he kissed your head before finally slipping into slumber himself.

--------------------

Naboo's Note:

Hello everyone! So sorry this took forever to get out. Life and work and mental health have all been pretty overwhelming lately. I'm gonna try to write more soon, but I hope this is good until then. As always, thank you for the likes, comments, reblogs, and requests. TTYLXOXO ILYSM <3

[pinky-the-bunny]

Like father like son.

A canon story about john doe meeting the bad sans trio for the first time.

(This is my first time writing something like this, its so bad omg)

It was a normal day like any other for john doe, walking along the snowy trail that mixes with the dust he left behind. 'Home sweet home' he thought to himself as he walks like a crooked puppet In the cold. He stops back at his universe every now and then when he wants to take a break from exploring the multi verse and reminisce on the past. he grins at himself as he looks down at all the snow mixed with dust on the ground.

It was fun; watching them try to fight, try to run away, some even tried to help him thinking he was sans. If only they REMEMBERED him, none of this would have happened. His thoughts were then inturupted as he heard the sounds of two men talking and the sound of footsteps. He then stood there as he waited for them to appear.

Three skeletons were shown out of the forest, they all stopped as they see john doe standing far away in front of them in snowdin, looking away from them. They were creeped out for a bit until one of them spoke up.

"Hey, creep! At least look at the people who are gonna kill ya!"

John doe slowly turned around to meet the...three of them? But he sword he only heard two? Nevertheless, he smiles at them and started to greet them.

"Hello. What brings you here in my universe, my sons?"

All three of them looked weirded out a bit as john doe studied all three of them. They all looked so...Interesting to him. The one on the left had the same black eyes as him, only difference is a black liquid seemed to be pouring out of them. The red circles in front of his chest intrigued john doe the most. He wonders if they are a part of him....

The one on the right was much more intense looking then the other, he had a cracked skull! And his right eye was red, How pretty! He looked to carry an axe with him. Are they planning on fighting john doe? What a way to introduce yourself...

The one in the middle is the one that john doe is most intrigued by. He didn't see much considering this one had his hoodie up, but he was interested to know how this one was so quiet compared to the other two.

The left one spoke up more. "Oh nothing...we're just here to do play a game with you." He swings a knife in his hand as he said that. How charming...

"Oh? And what is that?" John doe said politely.

"Just a little knife game." He said with a sinister tone back to him.

John doe looked back at the one with the axe and responded. "But he has an axe. Doesn't that count as cheating?"

"Well it won't really matter in the end either way, cause..." He points the knife towards john doe as he continues to speak. "You're gonna turn to dust after we're done with you."

"oh....I see..." John doe quietly said as he looked down at the ground, his feet inward as he says his next words. "Then I guess I'll start the game first." :)

Suddenly, A bunch of blue spear appear above them and they all immediately noticed and dodged out of the way in a shocked panic. The two of the skeletons looked at john doe in surprise, one of them that held the knife smiled a bit as he laughed a little bit. "Well this is interesting. We knew you killed everyone here but I didn't think you also took their powers? Isn't that a little much?"

John doe grins widely as he looks at him, A white circle appearing in his left eye. "Says a lot coming from someone who worked with a 'dirty-brother-killer.' Am i correct....killer?"

"Wha-" before killer could fully realise what he just said, john doe made a bone attack appear in his hand and he started to sprint towards killer. Killer panicked as he used a gaster blaster to attack john doe before he could go near him, but he dodged it. Killer raised his hand as bones appeared out of the ground above john doe but he dodged them all too in a frenzy. Killer kept going until john doe got closer to him and started to use his knife on him before he could hit him with his bone. He looked at john doe as he realized that his face was now much more wild and excited then before compared to his calm demeanor. The other skeleton then appeared behind john doe as he struck his head with his axe, killer getting away safely. "Shit! Shit! Shit! He almost fucking got me!"

"calm down, we fought people like this before-" the one with the axe stopped talking as he noticed the black substance coming out of john doe's head and grabbed his axe out as he looked disgusted. "What the fuck...?" John doe's head then slowly healed itself as the black substance disappeared with the wound. John doe looked back at the other skeleton as his smile widened. "Sorry, but I'm afraid your axe won't help you this time, horror."

"Who the hell do you think you are?!" Horror yelled at john doe in furious rage, ready to use his axe on him again. "Oh, horror..." John doe teleported in front of horror, but this time horror got his axe to stop his next attack on him. He shielded himself from another one of john does blue spears, he looked at him in the eyes as he spoke in a deep tone. "You're always SO angry!"

Killer tried to stab john doe in the back but he teleported to quickly, he almost hit horror as john doe used a fire attack at the both of them. They got hurt pretty bad from that as they tried to think of a way to get him. "That mother fucker is too clever. Are you sure he's just a sans?" Horror talked back "why wouldn't he be? We just got to know his fighting style."

"Got you." john doe said behind horror as he stabbed through the back with a blue spear. Killer ran to him as he slashed him with his knife a couple of times, john doe just smiles even wider as the white circle in his eye looked even crazier. He then stumbled back as a bone attack stabs through killers leg, making him groan in pain as the knife in his hand fell. John doe then took the blade as he went towards killer and grabbed his neck. "what the fuck- let go of me!" "But I'm not done with our game yet."

John doe then pointed the blade near killers red circles. "I wonder if you would feel pain if I stabbed this...lets find out, son." :)

As he was about to stab it, horror then threw his axe at the knife that john doe was holding and it dropped out of his hand. He then punched him in the face as he helped killer out. "Are you okay?" "Dumb ass, MY FOOT GOT FUCKING STABBED THROUGH!" "Got it, okay."

john doe slowly walked towards the both of them as horror tried to help killer with his foot, until he got stopped by a hand on his shoulder. John doe was surprised by it as he looked to see that it was the third skeleton that had his hoodie up behind him. John doe grins even more as he looked at him. "I'm sorry...did you feel left out?"

The hooded skeleton said nothing as he takes his hand away, john doe nods at this as he turns around fully to face him. "Very well...i'll give you a head start first the-"

Dust immediately stabs him with a sharp bone through his chest, right next to the blue spear that was already out of it. He almost stabbed through his glitchy soul as John doe looks at him. he sees a hue of red and blue looking back at him as he finally saw....

Everything....

The many deaths

The many resets

He killed them all out of free will

And continued to kill them all

Again

And again

And again....

He stumbles backwards a bit as dust pulls the bone out of him, the black goop dripping off of it as john doe falls to the ground in shock. The smile still plastered in his face as the white circle in his eye slowly disappeared. he heavily breaths as the other two walked up to dust. "Did you get him?" Horror said as killer cries like a baby from the pain in his foot. Dust looked towards john doe as he was about to use a gaster blaster at him to finish him off until he stops, they all stop as they both seem to hear a voice. Its muffled to john doe as he just lays there, staring off into the sky. They all then walk away and leave john doe on the ground.

After a while, john doe stands back up and heals the wound in his chest. He looks back at where he saw them leave to. Their..... gone. They just left him here. He then remembered how dust stabbed him, almost killing him in one shot near his soul. He didn't feel fear at that moment, instead.....

He smiled widely as he looked back at the forest he saw them leave to and said in a soft tone.

"I'm so proud of you....sans." :)

[ihatedtoadmit]

The Windows To My Soul [2]

pairing: OT8 x fem! reader

genre: soulmates, angst, fluff, crack

warnings: Please read the 'Summary' of this series, all are listed there!

word count: ~2.3k

summary: The two aussies chat with you as some distraction, although anxiety seeps through once you reach their hotel, a strange pain blooming in your ribcage.

↳ Masterlist ↳ Next chapter ↳ Previous chapter

All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

"So, Eevee, d’ya live around here?" - Chan asked, as if sensing my derailing thoughts and the distraction I desperately needed. "Haha, naur, Iiii actually come from a really small european country. Very far away from here." "Oh? You're not japanese? You spoke it well, I thought… Anyways, I've always wanted to visit more countries there! Which one are you from?"

I looked at their expecting expressions and desperately held my tongue, trying not to say that BTS actually knew the capital of my country, surprisingly.

"Eh, you wouldn't know anyway, don't worry about it." "Ahw, bummer. Then can ya talk in your mother language for a bit?" - Felix asked with puppy eyes, my heart unable to say no as I lightly chuckled. "Alright, but what should I say?" "How about… Imma catch them all!"

I immediately snorted, slightly shaking my head at the pokemon reference. I looked at Chan to see if he minded, but he simply shook his head with crescent-shaped eyes.

"Alright, here goes. Szerezd meg hát mind!"

Yeah, they looked really fucking confused at me, causing me to burst out in laughter.

"I told you you wouldn't know it!" "I-, well, ya were right, I have not heard that language before." "Neither have I, it sounds weird. Chris, now ya say something, c'mon!"

And for the next few minutes they kept giving me phrases and words, just so I could translate them to my native language. Even chat was confused, none of them getting it right. But they tried, language names flying across the poor phone's screen at a fast pace.

They stopped eventually, the boys giving me some space and talking to the chat in korean -i was grateful for that-, later on saying goodbye to STAY as well. I waved along with them, careful not to have my face seen. It was tiring, to constantly keep it in my mind and position myself accordingly, because I was taller than both the boys and they were the ones holding the phone. So I had to tilt my head slightly downwards at all times, well, if I wanted to remain anonymous that is. And I sure fucking wanted to.

"Alright, we're not far from the hotel now."

Ah, so we had walked so much already. I glanced back subtly out of instinct, checking if the other man -probably their bodyguard or a manager- was still there. Sure enough, he was, positioned just right so he was never in the range of their camera. 

Looking back in front of me after walking for a good 15 minutes or more, I was met with a tall building, most probably a hotel, based on the aesthetic and glowing signs.

I took a deeper breath as I looked up at it, noticing a deep, dull pain in my chest. Thinking I probably fell on it or that my body was just doing its usual randomly hurting thing, I ignored it, sadly quite familiar with the art of pushing away slight pain to the back of my mind.

The boys -and it felt weird to think of them like that so casually- stepped in, Chan holding the door open for me as they started chatting in english. A notion that warmed my heart and calmed my fried nerves, even if only slightly.

They involved me in their chatter a few times, but the anxiety of meeting new people -fucking idols at that- started catching up to me, making me retreat back to my shell and become even quieter than usual. I couldn't help it, I was not a socially well-versed person. Maybe that was why I loved Jisung so much. Birds of a feather and all that.

As if sensing my anxiety, they stopped near a door -probably theirs- and turned around, facing me, who just followed them silently, even in and out of the elevator. I zoned out for the ride, body on mindless auto-pilot.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay. They're all friendly and great people, if not too loud. But I'll ask them to take it back a notch today for ya, ‘kay?" - Chan gently said, his words but a quiet whisper. "Yeah, it'll be fine. You're safe here, nobody's gonna do anything to you. Maybe only make ya laugh at bad jokes." -Felix added in with a slight curve of his lips, and I couldn't help but quietly snort at that.

Their smiles both widened in response, expressions turning even more gentle, if that was even somehow possible.

One thing I had caught though was that through the whole thing, Felix's hands were awkwardly moving a bit, hovering in the air sometimes, as if he wanted to grasp onto something, but was unsure about it. Being a STAY, I knew some things about him, like how physically affectionate he was and how it was one of his biggest languages of affection. Slowly putting two and two together, I finally realised he had wanted to touch my hand that wasn't tucked away in my jacket's pocket, unsure if it would grant me comfort or do the exact opposite.

Smiling gently under my scarf, I nodded at them -causing my cap's ears to move, i could see how they glanced at it in amusement-, indicating that I was okay and as ready as I could ever be.

They nodded as well, turning around and going through the door. Glancing back once more, I found no one in the corridor besides us, the bodyguard having left us silently sometime. I furrowed my brows at that, unsure how I hadn’t noticed it happening.

A deep voice calling out to me snapped me back to reality, Felix's head peeking out the doorway to glance at me, worry dancing on his features. I quickly apologised quietly and strode towards him, my legs halting once I reached their doorway.

I felt like an intruder.

It didn't feel right to just go into their hotel room, especially when I knew who they were, without them knowing about it.

I felt guilty, and like a horrible burden.

My unsure hand found Felix's hoodie, as if I was a child grasping onto their parents' clothing. It immediately grabbed his attention, his body now fully standing before me with his attention devoted solely to me.

I didn't deserve it.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Ya don't have to meet them all now, or at all, we can work around it, if that makes ya feel better." - his deep voice soothed me, hushing my nervous inner child.

I gently shook my head, not wanting to cause them even more problems by having them dance around me.

"I just… I'm not the most social person, sorry. I just don't want to be a bother to you guys, not even more after all you’ve done already." - I whispered out, afraid of voicing my thoughts as I just looked at the ground, the shiny tiles now looking way more interesting than anything else around me.

His hands found mine, gently squeezing it in comfort before he spoke once more.

"Ya really aren't a bother, trust me. And me and the guys can carry the conversation for you, ya don't even have to join it if ya don't wanna."

I looked down into his warm eyes, finding their shine comforting and genuine.

Gosh, he really was sunshine incarnate.

"You remind me of one of my friends, he has social anxiety too. So don't worry, the guys will understand, really." - he smiled at me before he turned around, making me melt at his care.

I could merely nod and let him guide me into the room at last, Chan most probably wondering where we'd been for so long. But no, there was no sign of him, only his voice could be heard from somewhere deeper in the place.

Felix told me where I could put my jacket and lil backpack after I had taken my boots off, his petite form quickly disappearing from my sight.

I just stood there in my full outfit -minus the boots-, blinking at the place where he had been not even a second ago.

How the fuck did he just do that? Was I so out of it, or did he turn into Sonic the hedgehog in front of my very eyes?

Before I could get back on track and actually get my now too warm jacket off -i was starting to sweat at that point, both from the heat and nervousness-, that little, now maskless menace appeared before me with the baby bread in tow.

"Oh my god!" - Jeongin exclaimed once he had laid eyes on me, his eyes roaming my form before settling on the long ears of my Eevee cap. "Right? So cute!"

They started gushing about it in korean, the little gamers. I just watched them for a bit, before getting an idea.

Taking my cap off and carding a hand through my now very messy hair -although the motion never truly tamed it-, I offered the cap up in their direction after shaking it out a bit. They quieted down, asking if they really could take it in a hushed tone, as if they didn't believe me and my actions. Of course I nodded once again, watching as their smiles lit up their whole faces.

They were like little kids, I swear. And I was younger than them, even if not by a lot, but still…

Either way, I had finally torn my eyes away from the two and took my bag, jacket and scarf off as I was turned away from them, facing the closed front door. I quickly crouched down and searched around in my bag, taking out and putting on a regular, blue hospital facemask I had stashed in there.

No way in hell was I comfortable sitting amidst all those pretty people with my face, even though I had makeup on.

Being done, I stood up and turned around, closing my eyes as I ruffled up my long hair and tried to tame it into its usual place. Amidst that, I simply heard a 'Woah', my eyes popping open and drawn towards the slightly slack-faced Felix. I raised an eyebrow at him, not understanding his behaviour.

"Just, uh, that's quite a vibe change ya got there."

Looking down, I realised what he had meant. Because compared to my quite cute Eevee outfit, I now had all black, form hugging clothes on with almost no skin showing. The accessories I had on were either black or silver too, usually with chains or other 'edgy' motifs on them as well.

Yeah, not exactly cute, as one would say.

But compared to my dark looks, I merely sheepishly rubbed at my nape and looked away, slightly shrugging my shoulders. I felt a bit bad for giving a deceiving first impression, if that made sense, because I never really dressed cutesy and girly, no matter what anyone else wanted or told me it looked good on me.

They both snorted at that, muttering something in korean, before Felix gently took my hand and started dragging me away. Our destination was most probably where the others had gathered, based on how their voices got louder and louder with each step. But throughout our walk, Felix's hold was gentle, something I could easily break free from if I felt the need arise. I couldn't help the lil appreciative squeeze of his hand I had sent him for that.

Entering the living room -because that was the most fitting title i could find for it-, my eyes met with the entire cast of Stray Kids -minus the two accompanying me-, all huddled together on the giant, L-shaped couch. Their heads snapped up to me when Felix announced our presence and released my hand, my form turning rigid in response. Chan -with no mask on- was searching for my gaze, smiling at me once I’d met his eyes.

It didn't help as much as it could have.

They spoke about something in korean, probably introducing me, based on the word Eevee I’d heard and how Felix gestured towards me. I deeply bowed at them, my hands clutched together in front of my form nervously as I tried not to think about how much I wanted to just straight up disappear into the surface of the planet.

The aussies rushed to say I didn't need to be so formal, the others probably saying the same in korean as they raised their hands in protest. Some even almost stood up from their seats.

Great fucking going me, I made them uncomfortable on our first meeting, wonderful.

After each member introduced themselves, some with more sentences and some with less, they gestured for me to sit down. But that meant choosing a seat, and I felt uncomfortable doing that. I didn't want to sit too close for both of our sakes, but I also couldn't sit too far, they would think I hated them or something.

Dear god, why was this so hard? Stupid anxiety.

Eventually, I sat down near one end of the couch, while Jeongin and Felix attacked the already sitting members for cuddles. Mostly Felix, Jeongin just wanted to be a menace and fuck around.

I awkwardly sat there, watching them interact as I kept glancing around the room, from the ground to each member. Minho was intently staring at me, probably analysing if I was a threat or not, but nobody really knew what was truly going on inside his head. So I simply glanced away, fighting with my rising nervousness and that pain in my chest.

Gods, it was becoming worse, did I land on a rib or something?

Next chapter

[angelynmoon]

Eldritch Steve verse

Part 10

So, apparently A03 is down and I had nothing better to do, so I wrote this, I'll post it to Ao3 either tomorrow or when it's back up if it takes more than a day.

Thank you for all your ideas for a title, I haven't actually chosen one but you've gotten me thinking so thank you, (a little part of me wants to name it 'From the rot', I don't even really know why).

-

"...and that difference was my undoing, it was the undoing of my kind as well, they just didn't know it yet." Steve began.

And Eddie listened, quietly, he listened intently because this was Steve's story, the journey into who he was now, and Eddie had always been curious about who Steve was before he came into their world.

Not enough to ask, no, he'd seen the way Steve looked away when Jonathan asked about others, when Nancy questioned if they should be worried about others like Steve.

And Eddie felt his heart break when Steve mentioned spawning, when he'd explained what that was.

And he felt the tears in his eyes escape when Steve described coming home and finding the broken shells, the remains of his raveged children and the anger that had filled him.

Eddie didn't blame him, he'd be angry if anything happened to the Party, to El and Erica and Max, he didn't know what he'd do if someone killed them, didn't want to find out.

"I sat there for what must have been days, watching the remains of my babies rot and then I buried them as deep into the ground as I could." Steve spoke softly, an otherworldly grief in his voice.

And Eddie expected him to say that he'd sought out a way into their world, snuck through a crack or hole and ran from his anger and grief.

What he did not expect was what Steve told him next.

"I tracked the scent of the one that took my spawn, and I tore it apart, piece by piece until nothing was left but scraps and blood. And I stood there and I knew that I could never safely spawn, not while my kind lived." Steve looked to the window, to the tree that scraped at the glass, "And I knew that I'd be hunted for what I'd done, not the killing of a fellow, but that I left it to rot."

Eddie frowned wondering why that would be the problem, Steve seemed to understand and explained.

"My kind, they aren't like humans, it's survival of the strongest, and we'd eat the weaker of our kind, to gain their strength, their rage , that I didn't eat the one I killed was the wrost sort of insult I could give, they'd hunt me for that alone, but as far as the others were concerned I'd attacked unprovoked, for no reason since I wasn't eating.

"So I let my rage and anger have me, let it guide me in my slaughter, thinking of my spawn broken and killed before they had the chance at life.

"When that rage, that anger finally faded into the sorrow it was covering I was..." Steve looked at Eddie, tears in all those thousands of eyes, "I was alone, the rest of my kind were dead and left to rot throughout the Down Below, their blood poisoned the rivers and the fumes from their rotting flesh poisoned the air. I made the Down Below the wasteland it is now, because I would not feed on those that killed my babies, because it was worse for me to leave them where the fell once I'd killed them."

Steve looked away from Eddie, "You say I'm not a monster, but you're wrong, I am, my reasons for doing it don't change the fact that I commited a genocide, that I am one of two, that neither of us will spawn together or alone, our kind, if we breed at all, will eventually be diluted with each generation, until it is nothing but strange quirks appearing now and again."

Eddie stared, it was a lot of information but it didn't change Eddie's feelings, grief did strange things to everyone, Wayne, when Eddie's mother died had spent days wandering the woods, always retuning covered in blood that Eddie could only hope wasn't human. Eddie had seen him digging holes in the far side of the trailer park to bury something but he'd never been brave enough to ask or to go digging later. And Eddie's mother wasn't related to Wayne, Wayne was Eddie's father's brother not his mother's.

But knowing what Steve had done didn't change anything, not for Eddie at least, his heart was Steve's for as long as Steve wanted it, even when Steve stopped wanting it, Eddie's heart would still be Steve's until it stilled, this changed nothing, except...

"Wait, does that mean you and me could have biological children?" Eddie asked, because he had no filter.

Steve looked at him with a from, "You don't hate me?"

"I could never." Eddie said as he pulled Steve into his arms and let him relax into him.

They stayed that way for minutes or hours, at some point moving to lay down on the bed, before Eddie's curiosity needed to be satisfied.

"You never answered me, can you have my babies, because I certainly don't have the right equiptment for carrying babies." Eddie said.

Steve looked up at him from where he laid on Eddie's chest, "I can have either parts, I'm not male or female in the way humans are, the male form was just easier when I changed, it's a less complicated system."

"Cool, I'd like to spawn with you, when you're ready for that, if you ever are." Eddie told Steve.

Steve stared at him in his unsettling way, "You are not lying."

"Nope, I love you, Steve, Monster or not, I'm yours until you decide otherwise." Eddie vowed.

"You need to talk to Wayne." Steve said.

"What?" Eddie frowned, what did Wayne have to do with this, with anything.

"He can explain what you're getting into better than I can, I didn't spend much time with Mated Pairs." Steve explained.

Eddie frowned, stared at Steve.

"Oh My God! WAYNE IS LIKE YOU?!" Eddie shouted.

-

Taglist: not taking tag requests, it's getting too long.

I will update this with the Ao3 link when it's posted.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/48500452?view_full_work=true

@addelyin @merricatty @lesbiabrobin @apuckishwit @0o-mushroom-o0 @starlight-archer @darkwitchoferie @just-a-tiny-void @swimmingbirdrunningrock @intergalactic-president-awesome @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @adhdsummer @purpleanimeoverart @space-invading-pigeon @lilaclilyroses @nohomoyesbi @plantzzsandpencilzzs @korixae @subversivecynic @flusteredcas @persnicketysquares @freddykicksasses @little-trash-ghost @cupcakesnwhiskey @cats-ate-all-of-my-pasta @planetsoda @paintsplatteredandimperfect @irregular-child @daydreamsandcrashingwaves @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @steddieassheg0es

[dailyreverie]

i love the solo!reader x poe verse so much 🤗 if you're still up for requests, maybe the window prompt, but reverse, so poe climbing in her window? just a suggestion if you felt like it 💞

Late Night Talking

Part of the Your Wish is my Command universe

A/N: It's only been a couple of days since Poe joined the Resistance, but he is set to make things right. I was already in the middle of planning this and your request just tied it all up, so thank you so so much for sending it in! I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you enjoy it too.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Solo!Reader

Word Count: 1.1k words

SERIES MASTERLIST

In the quiet night of the base, in the calm atmosphere of your quarters, hearing something hitting against your window sounded louder than it most likely was. It startled you at first, interrupting your night for a couple of seconds in which you stood still.

You were set to ignore it, maybe it had been a bird or some kind of plant, but then it happened again, and again, and once more… clink… clink… clink… clink… the sound coming from the window didn’t seem to be stopping, and whatever it was, you needed it to stop. Sliding the curtain open and looking down unto the ground, you are met with the culprit of the late-night noise: “Poe? What are you doing here?” You spoke into the dark forest that surrounded you, barely seeing Poe with a handful of tiny rocks.

“I needed to talk to you.” He replied impatiently, his voice a loud whisper. After your first encounters you didn’t expect that you two would ever speak again, and now there he was, urgently asking to see you.

“Right now?” You matched his volume. “You can’t be here.”

“Why not? Your roommate’s out on a mission.” Before you could get even more creeped out, he clarified: “You mentioned it at lunch and I over-heard, I’m not stalking you.”

“Yeah, you’re just eavesdropping.” You still complained. “What’s going on, Poe? What happened?”

“Nothing happened, I just- it’s important, can I come in?” He said in the same haste as before.

You rolled your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t see you. “Oh my- and couldn’t you do it coming in through the door like a regular person?”

“There were a bunch of officers on the hall, I didn’t want anyone to see me going to your door in the middle of the night.” He justified, and to be fair, he had a point. “I’m already the new guy, I don’t want to make a reputation for myself.”

“Alright, fine,” you chuckled. “Climb in.”

It was a struggle, but he finally managed to use the thin branches stuck to the wall to help himself to climb into your room. Poe looked around for a second once he was in, examining your cozy room, much different from his cold one. “How is it that this room is so much prettier than mine?”

You had never thought about it, but as you looked at the burnt candles and the flower vase on the desk, and the pictures hung around the walls, you realized you had made this place homier than you ever intended to. “Girls live here, we made it pretty.” You reasoned.

His sight landed on you then, looking at you with your pajama pants and your day shirt on. Poe cracked a smile at your unmatching outfit, rising an eyebrow at you. “Nice outfit.”

“Don’t judge me, you scared me with your rocks.” You pointed at the tiny rocks still in his fist, defending yourself, which only made Poe try, and fail, to suppress a smile.“Alright Commander, what’s so important that it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?” 

“I, uhm… I wanted to apologize.” You looked at him not understanding where his apology was coming from. It’s been merely days since he got there, you’ve exchanged maybe 3 words in that time and he had been nothing but friendly in every meeting he’s been at. Why he needed to apologize, you had no clue.

“For coming here in the middle of the night, or…?”

“For the way I treated you at the cantina when you went to recruit me.” You stared at him blankly. “I shouldn’t have been that rude to you, or assumed you were there for money, I wasn’t thinking and I’m sorry.”

It would be a lie to say your heart didn’t jump at the sight of him at your window, and now, hearing him apologizing for the way he reacted to a complete stranger, was making your insides melt. “You were angry and frustrated, Poe, you had just finished a mission that didn’t go exactly good. You were having a bad day, we all have those, and I don’t hold it against you.” 

Poe looked silently at you for a couple of seconds, looking at you as if you had grown three heads. “So… you’re not mad at me?”

“No, I’m not.” You scoffed, and at the same time, he sighed relieved. “It wasn’t great but I’m not mad at you.”

“Not even because I called you ‘eye candy’? It was not my best moment, I swear I never say those things, and I really, really am-”

“Poe! It’s fine, I promise.” The little chuckle you let out finally made him relax. “It's in the past.”

“Good, that’s good, because you seem like a nice person, and I would really like us to be friends and I feel like we started on the wrong foot, and the thought of that was literally-”

“Not letting you sleep?” The moment you saw you could stop his rambling you went for it, cutting into his words, and once again, he looked relieved -  relieved that you could read him so well. “I figured, you literally climbed to my room.” Your own laughter almost interrupted you, and the sound of it made Poe join you.

“Alright, okay. Not a great moment either.” He already knew you would never let him forget that moment. 

A small, quiet smile was shared between you when the laugh began to die down; a smile that made you wish you could be mad at him so you didn’t have to admit to yourself you were starting to develop a mad crush on this man.

“I should probably head back,” He spoke first, heading to the door with you close behind him. “I have an early morning, and I don’t want to make the general mad.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” You made him laugh again. It was easy for him with you, to laugh and forget he was at war; Poe already knew this too, he would never get tired of you. 

Through a small opening of the door you checked both sides of the hall making sure no one was there, and once you were sure, you let him go through. “If she gets mad, though, at least we know you are great at apologies.”

Poe turned around before exiting your quarters, leaning against the door frame to face you. You did not expect him to be so close, or to be smiling so sweetly when he turned around. “What?” You asked quietly when he didn’t speak, hoping he hadn’t realized the way your eyes couldn’t stop exploring his face once they had him so close. Poe only smiled a bit wider, his eyes becoming smaller. “What is it?” You demanded, beginning to smile too.

“Nothing.” Poe shook his head. “Thanks for forgiving me.” He nudged your shoulder.

“Any time,” you nudged back. “My window is always open.” Poe laughed through his nose, and with that, he turned around and left.

You knew it already, with this pilot, you were in for a thrill.

🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟🚀🌟

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[backgroundelf]

hello, can you tel me about “Source; it came to me in a dream”?

A few months ago I had a dream where instead of taking the ring to Mordor, Frodo and the Ring stayed in Rivendell, which went about as well as could be expected. Sauron's forces laid siege to the valley. During a heavy bout of fighting, the defenses of Rivendell are broken. Frodo grabs the ring, intending to run away and it slips on. Instead of turning invisible, he is sucked into the ring and comes face to face with Sauron himself (I tried to put this under a readmore but tumblr was being stupid)

“Well, aren’t you a curious little thing?” a voice, as smooth and deadly as poison, purred.  Frodo scrambled to his feet and turned towards the speaker. He was lounging in Elrond’s chair, red hair spilling out from under a rusted iron crown. He wore robes that were once white, but the hems and sleeves had been stained black with ash. One eye burned like fire, but the other was nothing more than an empty socket with cracks spreading out from the wound. Despite all this, he was still beautiful, fair in a dreadful way.  He stood and stretched, lazily making his way to the pedestal in the center of the ruined courtyard. “I suppose I should thank you,” he said. “Because of you, I will be able to reclaim what is rightfully mine.” He reached out towards the pedestal where the Ring lay. “No!” Frodo yelled.  Sauron smiled. “It’s a bit late for that.” He lunged for the Ring. Sparks flashed against his fingertips and he yanked back his hand. He looked down at the burned flesh, then to the Ring, and finally at Frodo. “Interesting.” “You cannot have it,” Frodo said, stepping closer to the Ring.  “Are you going to claim it then?” Sauron asked as if he had no interest in the answer. Frodo looked at the Ring, then at Sauron. “Go. Leave us, and never come back.” He spoke with a strength he did not feel, and a strength Sauron clearly did not believe. “Very well,” Sauron said. “I will leave. When I get my Ring back. You have no claim to it.” “I inherited it from my uncle. It came to me by right,” Frodo said. He may be terrified, but he was also a hobbit, and hobbits were annoyingly thorough when it came to legal matters such as inheritance. Sauron laughed. “Oh, this is rich. A masterwork into which the crafter has poured his very fëa is stolen, and then is passed on to a thief’s heir. Then, when the proper owner of the piece comes to reclaim their stolen property, they are told they have no right to it, because thievery and inheritance trump everything else. Eru does have a sense of irony after all.”  “You cannot have the Ring,” Frodo repeated. “Oh, but I will have it. It’s just a matter of time. You will die, likely very soon, and that barrier will fall. I’m in no rush, I can wait.” He settled back into Elrond's chair. “But you? Each moment we are in here is bought with your allies’ lives. Spend them frivolously, I don’t care, but I’m sure you do. Creatures of the light are always so…sentimental. Of course, you could save them. Renounce your claim, lower the barrier, and once the rIng is mine, I’ll leave. You have my word.” Frodo shook his head. “You will leave today and return with a greater force tomorrow. I cannot let you have the Ring.” “Then it seems we are at an impasse,” Sauron said. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. “Shall we play a game? The winner gets the Ring, and the loser leaves.” “A game?” Frodo said. He thought of Bilbo, his heart aching to think he would likely never see his beloved uncle again. “How about a game of riddles?” “Riddles?” Sauron asked with a grin. He looked around at the living shadows. “In the dark? I was thinking of something a little older. Do you know where your riddle game came from? It used to be a challenge of songs. Trading verse and weaving words until the mightier singer stood victorious. But time passed, as it is want to do, and the songs devolved into riddles. What once was a true contest of wills became a children’s game.”  “You would have us sing at each other?” Frodo asked. Sauron nodded. “Indeed. A proper challenge, worthy of such high stakes. I’ll even be a good sport and let you go first.”

[kiszuster]

LA . SEXY ✗ satoru .

hey hey .ᐟ note from manager kiszu ! singer! satoru x singer! reader, lowercase, fluff, slight crack, short drabble for the kiszu nation 😖, fem coded reader but race isn't mentioned !

satoru always acted as if being on time was hard. news flash, it literally wasn't, and the "fashionably late" excuse was getting old. his manager, god what was her face? oh. kiszu was it? oh god. she was gonna wear his ass out about this once again.

“so sorry, miss ( last name ), he's literally always like this.” kiszu spoke. a frown on her face as a familiar car pulled up. mmtch, you smacked your lips as you seen him get out the car waving with that same annoyingly cheeky grin on his face. yup, you already thought he was punchable by just looking at him.

"satoru! your late! again." kiszu scowled as she looked over to you, seeing your hand on your own hip. making kiszu frown worse.

you was completely second guessing this collab all together.

"you can't have someone waiting. especially when you wanted this colla—"

“quit yapping kiszu! i get it i get it, satorus so so sorry." satoru said pointing at himself as he walked past kiszu and to you. kiszu particularly could've slapped this punk. but, he's here now. so. i guess it didn't matter anymore, did it?

"ah, you must be ( name ) yeah?" satoru said, looking you up and down. your irritated expression— pretty lips with obvious glossy lipstick on them folded up into an annoyed frown already, to your pretty curly hair. holy shit, you were WAY prettier in person.

but satoru could never be seen getting nervous. not ever. but at the end of the day he was just some stupid loser.

"I'm aware." you say to his question. watching him laugh like you just said the funniest shit in the world, correction. you didn't by the way. your eyes narrowed down to a glare before you said: "okay, satoru. im not here to waste time. you wanted this collab remember?" you said crossing your arms and sitting on the leather couch in the producer room that you two stood in.

"oh im aware. so since i don't wanna waste the rest of your time. here." his tone was coy and smug, ugh. as he slid over a paper of some lyrics with little scribbled drawings by them. making your eyebrow perk up.

guess that help him when he had to read over his own lyrics? something. you picked up the paper and he caught a glimpse of your pretty light blue painted nails. making him grin a bit.

"oh you painted those for m—"

"no." you immediately shut him down. making his grin widen. oh, you were WAY more of a challenge for him. he liked that. maybe this collab wouldn't be so bad. he saw that you placed the paper down.

"sooo?"

"booooo" you said, giving him a thumbs down. making his grin flip into a quick frown with the quickness. that almost made you laugh and laugh hard— you were just kidding around with him.

"bye satoru I'm just playin'. but i can say one (1) thing." you said lifting a finger up, "why can't we change a few lyrics? like maybe a overlap. where both of our voices are heard singing some lyrics then i have a whole verse to myself."

satoru listened to you— he didn't hate the idea. he's heard your voice in some songs, and it was downright gorgeous. so the idea didn't make him wanna wrap his hands around his neck and scream. maybe this wouldn't be bad.

in his silence of thinking, that's when you really got to see him. blue glasses resting on his nose, pretty blue eyes and only slightly messy white hair, sitting in a ever so slightly man spreading position. whew. lord. he actually had a slight kick to him— but okay what if you threw a bomb at him instead.

“i totally see you eye balling me, ( name )." satoru spoke up, a lazy grin on his face. making your lips frown up because that grin looked nice on him.

but why was he acting like he wasn't eye balling you too? looking at your outfit and everything. he definitely thought you had nice fashion skills and even if you didn't, you were so damn pretty. but he wasn't gonna say that.

"oh shut your mouth, i saw you looking at me too. now what do you think of the idea?"

"ACKKKK, wrong." satoru said, making his voice sound like a game buzzer. which— made him start laughing. at his big grown age....you rolled your eyes before you heard his voice.

"okay kidding. i actually like your idea lots, i say we record it and put it all together and see how it comes out." satoru spoke with a shrug. leaning back into the couch opposite from you. you nodded your head with a slight smile. only happy because he agreed with you.

"okay, im game with that. pleasure doing business with you i guess. satoru."

"oh? you know that's the one time i seen you smile miss ( name ) do it again."

"ughhhh shut up you ruined it."

[extralifelibrarian]

drabble after the events in ant-iversary- Jan appreciation Post 2

Janet kept her eyes fixed on Scott and Cassie, were they really saying what she thought she had heard? They had lost UltronPym. It was broken open into this pocket verse. And Ant-Men from different timelines from early Henry to someone in 2549 named Zayn all came together to help defeat him. It was good to know that the science of ants and everything Hank worked on would continue to grow in his absence, but what she needed was a stiff drink after Scott said Ultron merged with the All-Father and they defeated him, melting him down to nothing. Nothing was left. He was eliminated. Her heart was pounding and she felt lightheaded, maybe not a drink but smelling salts would be better. Eyes brimming with tears as the realization hit her straight in the gut. That meant Hank was gone as well. Any trace of him. The wave of grief started to fill her, but she held it down, needing to think, process this. “He’s gone. Ultron…Hank is gone?,” she couldn’t help the crack in her voice which was all but a whisper. Was Ultron the thing of her nightmares, the person who wanted her as a bride time and time again and recently merged with Jocasta this last time? Yes. Though,if she was honest with herself she would still take Ultron over Dave, Whirlwind, her other creepy stalker. But he also had merged with Henry and she hadn’t wanted to believe what Tony said about him being just a flesh suit. Hank had merged with Ultron to stop the threat, he had to know what would happen to him if he merged and if so why hadn’t there been a note or something. Meanwhile, Nadia was still holding out hope to meet him, she knew she was. Now there was nothing Jan nor Nadia could do if he was really gone. Exterminated from the universe. Her attention came back when Scott was talking about how he helped Hank in the past see how much he mattered and that he was a great man. And how Hank was really going at him and so smart to defeat him, even saying that he would never build a robot like him again when the time came. Cassie was rattling off how she thought a Ant-vengers team would be great between all of the Ant-Fam and through in the Spider-Fam too if they wanted and could behave, but Janet cut her off. “First off Cassie, we could probably due that, just have to find of a way to have everyone in the right mindset, but second,” her eyes held Scott’s excitement but also cautious fear before she spoke again. “Henry knows about Ultron and you all went back to your time. Without a memory erase, what if, what if he doesn’t do that and he keeps the confidence of what he has seen, what if that means he can be back in this world working in his labs right now. That means that would have never happened, the merge, everything.” Janet got up and grabbed her keys before deciding to shrink down just enough to have her wings. Scott grabbed her wrist, “Hold on Jan, we don’t know if that is the case or even true. I might remember because it doesn’t change a lot. We were the only ones that were from the current timeline to go through and all I know is that the ants do nano-science or something, there is no guarantee.” Jan pulled her hand slowly from his grasp, knowing he was right, “But there is a chance and in science, if Henry has taught me anything is not to give up hope on a chance because it’s still a possibility,” Jan flew out of the window and headed towards Hank’s lab, hoping to see him there. Hearing Cassie in the background said, “So does this mean the Ant-vengers is on hold right now?” Janet landed outside of PymTech, heart pounding, wouldn’t her memories be different if he was really still here. Wouldn’t those events never happened? Or was this what Dr. Strange would talk about a breakaway timeline, she never really listened too long on those conversations. As she made her way through the corridors and to his lab, she swiped her ID and put her hand on the biometrics scanner. Holding her breath she stepped inside.

[headstrongblake]

@thewholecrew: grant & octavia. / verse: all american.

i lied. grant's admission feels like her entire world shattered and snapped back into focus simultaneously, causing a hurricane of emotions to flourish inside. but she did her best to focus her emotions into her grip, tightening around her gun as she steeled herself against grant. all of it, what he says, makes sense, and none of it does as what she's known and tried to believe and what she felt rattle around inside of her while he admits to trying to protect her. protect nick and everyone. that he was doing this for them. her grip coiled tighter, jaw clenching despite the harsh scoff that escaped her as she watched him unable to even look at her while he spoke.

as grant's confession came to a halt, his voice cracking with his apology octavia shook her head, "don't. don't apologize..." she said, lifting her shoulders in a defeated shrug. after thinking she had known grant more than possibly anyone else, she hated coming to this place of acceptance that he hurts her. over and over again. he leaves. he lies. "don't apologize for what you know you'll do again. just don't." at that, she tore her gaze from him, shaking her head as she lowered her gun completely, switching the safety before staring out the front window. "you..." her head shook, venom strangling her words with his information.

"even if i could believe what you're saying right now..." somehow, this almost felt worse. suddenly, she felt the overwhelming need to escape this truck. get as far away from grant as possible before her emotions explode. god, why had she locked them in here? what the fuck had she expected out of this? everything he tells her simply brings new damming questions that whirl around inside of her and new hurt to look through. garrett's dead. great, that's all she needs to know. now she could get back to nathan and her night. but she remained beside grant as all his words began to sink in. "what you're saying is...you didn't trust me. you knew...you had this grand fucking plan and you didn't trust me enough to tell me?" her hardened gaze turned back to him, brows knitted together with outrage.

"no, so you left. you ran—" octavia bit her tongue, shaking her head once more as she fought to keep her composure. did he not understand what she could've done to keep nick away if she had known the truth? did he not understand the broken heart and endless torment he could have saved her if he had trusted her? "i'm going to be sick," she muttered to herself, scooting herself back in the passenger seat as she set her gun near his unloaded ones. "when did you know?" she asked sharply, hues shooting back to him, "did you know you were going to kill him when we caught up with you? hmm? what about when i called you...when..." her voice shook, unable to repeat any of the words she'd told him months ago about loving him. "how about when you came to my dorm and broke my fucking heart...did you know then?"

@headstrongblake: grant & octavia. / verse: all american.

grant watched her, nearly wincing as he saw her stiffen when he lifted his gun. his mind flashed back to when he had been force to use this gun in her direction, how he would never forgive himself and how he hated himself for how it still seemed to effect her. because of course it did. he betrayed her. told her he loved her, he would always love her then turned around when they found him and said every hurtful thing he could. made her feel as though she was in danger of him when the last person he would ever want to hurt was her. but it didn't matter what he wanted, what his intentions are, he had hurt her more than anyone.

why? it was such simple question with such a large answer. lips parted but he took a moment to try and decipher what this why meant. why did he kill them? why did he come back? why did he hurt her and nick the way he did? he knew the answer to all those questions but the hard part was trying to figure out what answer octavia wanted first. a sigh escaped him, misery simmering in his golden gaze as he had been about to guess and speak when octavia did first. there was a wash of relief, even if she still had her reservations, it was a slight acception in the right direction.

his gaze then dropped as she reminded him what he had done, what he had made octavia believe was true. another sad, tired sigh escaped him as he leaned back a little in his seat. "i lied," he answered honestly which was ironic, how was she supposed to believe this wasn't also a lie? he knew how ridiculous this was. "all i ever did was to protect you. you and nick, everyone. i went with him so he wouldn't try to hurt any of you again, it was either i go with him... take my original position back as his right hand man or..." he shook his head, face twisting with hatred and agony. "i couldn't let him hurt you, o... and when you and nicklas showed up--"

he stiffened, hands balling into fists at his side as he looked away in shame, "i would do anything to keep you away from garrett... even if it made you hate me. made you scared of me. made you think i hated you.... because i was going to deal with garrett, i was. i did... i just needed to know you all were safe and as far away from him as you could be." it felt like an avalanche was rolling off his shoulders, the weight of his secret mission, his hidden intentions now out in the open. "i'm sorry, octavia... when i said i never wanted to leave your side again... i--" his voice cracked and he cleared his throat, straightening a little as his avoiding eyes glistened. "i truly thought i meant it... i thought..." he shook his head. "well, it doesn't matter what i thought.."

[shubblelive]

LOVER ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

₊˚ʚ summary | wilbur shares a snippet of a song he wrote on stream. ages later, chat freaks out.

₊˚ʚ genre | fluff

₊˚ʚ warning | none

₊˚ʚ pairing | cc!wilbur soot x fem!singer reader

₊˚ʚ featuring | cc!wilbur soot

₊˚ʚ pronouns | she/her

₊˚ʚ word count | 0.7k

₊˚ʚ note | super cliche but oh well blame taylor swift

after he moved to his office, wilbur couldn't just bust out his guitar whenever he wanted. so whenever his chat saw his guitar in his streams now, they knew it meant something.

"softboy release?" he chuckled as he read out a message. "no, sorry, chat, this is something else." he fiddled with the tuning pegs, strumming absentmindedly as he tried to make sure it sounded right.

he was nervous about this. he knew that his chat would lap up whatever content he fed them, but he was more worried about the implications behind the song.

he finally got the guitar in tune, and he started rambling before he could stop, knee bobbing up and down with nerves. "so, chat. this is a bit of a special song, and it's a bit different than usual. i'm only sharing a bit, but i promise you'll hear the whole thing. i wrote it… i wrote it with my girlfriend,"

he watched as chat whizzed by, trying his best to read it. a lot of people were asking if it was one of his ex girlfriends, so he spoke up again. "she and i have been dating for a few years now. we never really cared much about telling people, it just like wasn't something important to us. of course, i love you guys, but you're all aware that i'm a pretty private guy. i'm a secretive man," he cracked a grin, trying to keep his tone light despite his growing anxiety. so far, all the comments he'd seen were super supportive. "but, we wrote this together, and our vibe was- we were going for a 70s wedding reception, and i think we really managed to capture it. i'm only sharing a bit, so i hope you enjoy."

he adjusted his mic, and began strumming. "we could light a bunch of candles, and dance around the kitchen, baby. pictures of when we were young would hang on the walls. we'll sit on the stoop, i'll sing love songs to you when we're eighty. i've finally got you now, honey. i won't let you fall."

he finally looked up at chat, subtly changing the chords he was playing as he spoke. "uh, so that was one of the verses, and here's part of the bridge,"

chat was freaking out as much as he'd expected, but a majority of them seemed to love the song. it wasn't like his other songs, wry sarcasm shining through lines about his misery. this one, everyone could see that it came from a place of pure love. there was nothing funny, or witty about it, because he didn't want to take away from the message of the song: he loved you.

"look in my eyes, they'll tell you the truth. the girl in my story has always been you. i'd go down with the titanic it's true for you, lover," his voice broke a little on the name of the boat, but no one noticed.

your entire timeline was filled with videos of him singing. captions of screaming, talking about how focused he was. his eyes were shining as he looked at the camera. "how are we feeling, chat?"

the stream continued. he spent a lot of it just chatting, but right before he joined a call with phil he got a text from you.

you did so good, i love you <3

weeks passed. wilbur's viewers moved on to the newest memes, started screaming about his newer lore streams. your timeline would be filled with screenshots from tommy's vlogs.

that was, until your song dropped. wilbur's fans didn't notice right away, but you remember the first tweet you ever got.

am i the only one who thinks that lover sounds like that one song wil sang on stream a few weeks ago????

that's how it started, and soon there were pictures of you and wil separately, posted side by side on twitter at the same location. an instagram photo of you wearing sunglasses that he wore a few months later. someone even edited his vocals onto your song's backing track to compare.

it ended with you posting a picture on instagram, with wilbur reposting it on his socials. you were sitting in his streaming chair, beside the neon sign of his name.

your hands were framing the sign, wilbur soot. the caption you both put on the picture was the same; my, my, my, my lover.

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks. 

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E  W E E K  A N D  A  D A Y  E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation. 

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone. 

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had. 

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along. 

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand. 

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you. 

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said.  However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would. 

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University,  a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period. 

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor. 

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

[wrdn-tabris]

stone steps

yeah more nicojay but gotham knights verse u_u

The second time Jason met Nico, Jason had been walking out from his therapist's appointment and into the near winter Gotham air. The cold nipped at him, and he had to pull his think jacket tighter around himself as he stepped down to the sidewalk. 

“No, mom, I don’t like him. He’s weird, and he’s one of dad’s friends- No, no mommy you’re not listening!” Jason breathed into his hands, rubbing them together to try and warm them up before he shoved them into his pockets. The person sitting on the stoop just behind him sounded on the verge of tears. 

Swallowing, Jason checked his phone again for the time. Dick had offered to pick him up from the appointment- hopefully he hadn’t forgotten. Again. 

“Yes, he is one of dad’s friends! He was- he was fuc-freakin’ telling me that it’s all in my head! No it’s not. I told you they don’t work- Why aren’t you listening to me?” Their voice broke, and they inhaled sharply. Jason ducked his head down. He wasn’t snooping, not if it was a conversation on a public sidewalk. 

He did feel for them though, they sounded miserable. Each time they spoke their voice hitched, just on the verge. Jason knew the feeling well, that precarious tightrope where one desperately tried to keep themselves composed when you could feel yourself about to snap thin. 

“No. No. Fine. Okay… yeah I love you too. Bye.” Jason shifted on the sidewalk. For the nicer part of Gotham, it was uncharacteristically empty. They took a shuddering inhale, and then exhaled to try and get their emotions under control. Jason tapped out a text to Dick as he listened to them breathe. 

It’s not weird, he told himself. They were both on a public sidewalk, he couldn’t help but overhear.

His phone pinged with Dick’s response.

hey where are you?

wdym?

Of course. Jason stepped back, letting himself sit on the cold stone steps that led up into the building. Jason saw the person shift slightly when he sat down out of his peripheral.

said youd give me a ride after the appointment?

A little gray balloon appeared, before disappearing and reappearing again. Jason bit his cheek as he glared at the screen. His hands tensed up, like he was ready to crack the phone in half. Instead, Jason closed his eyes to try and measure his breathing. His phone pinged, and Jason glanced back at the screen. 

srry omw!!!!!!

Typical.

dont bother. ill get a ride

Jason scowled, and shoved the phone back into his pocket, ignoring how it vibrated. Dick was just busy. Jason knew this. His plate was filled over, from making sure Tim was being looked after, to all the board meetings with WE, to Bruce’s last case. He had enough to worry about.

Though would it have hurt to just keep Jason in mind, just this once? He tried not to let that little bit of hurt and anger flare up in him. He didn’t need a reason to be angry at Dick, didn’t want one. Already Jason knew logically that Dick would feel bad about it. 

That knowledge didn’t stop him from getting upset.

“You okay?” Their voice was soft, a hand just hovering over his arm. Jason let out an exhake he wasn’t aware of holding, and unclenched his hands.

Their nails were painted black, already chipping. A little pink, blue, and white pin was stuck onto the oversized green jacket they wore, he/they printed in black onto it. Soft green eyes stared into his from beneath heavy lashes. The liner around their eyes was smudged, and their cheeks were speckled with freckles. 

The same thought came back unbidden with the familiarity of their face.

Cute. Nico was really cute.

“Yeah,” Jason felt the tension creep out of him all at once. It wasn’t Dick’s fault. Therapy just made him feel high strung. He had wanted… Jason clenched and unclenched his fist again. It didn’t really matter what he wanted in the end.

“Just a little disappointed.”

Nico’s smile was far too understanding. 

“I getcha.” They folded their arms in front of them, hugging their knees to their chest. “I’m tired of being disappointed too.”

“It’s not his fault.” Jason leaned back against the steps. The cold stone dug into his back. It was uncomfortable, already old injuries were beginning to flare up because of the colder weather. He ignored it. “He’s got other stuff to worry about.”

Nico opened their mouth to speak, but the clearing of a throat stopped them. With a groan, Jason stilted his head back to see a very irate woman standing just behind him.

“Yeah?”

“You’re blocking the steps.”

“Well go around, there’s enough room.” The woman huffed, brows pinching together as she stepped around the two of them.

“I’m going to call the cops. It’s illegal to loiter.”

Jason rolled his eyes, moving so that he faced Nico again.

“So you were saying?”

Nico’s lips quirked into a smile, a soft giggle escaping from them. There was an offended gasp from the woman, and Jason listened as her heels clicked against the sidewalk as she walked away.

“You’re braver than me, that’s for sure.” 

“What?” Jason huffed out a laugh. He could feel his own smile tugging at his lips. “That wasn’t brave. Just me being stubborn.”

“Still,” They brushed their bangs off to the side. “I’d have just apologized and probably trip trying to get outta her way.” They gave a little bit of a nervous laugh, and instead focused down on their hand rather than looking Jason’s way. They picked at their fingers, and Jason could see how dry and red their hands were. 

“Hey.” He moved from where he sat, elbow nudging into theirs. Nico looked up, green eyes blinking owlishly at him. “That just means you’re a nicer person than I am.”

“Oh.” They ducked their head, trying to hide the blush. “Thank you… But I think you’re plenty nice too…” They trailed off, brows pinching together.

“I just realized I didn’t even ask your name.”

“It’s Jason.”

“Well, Jason.” Nico said, pushing themselves up to stand. They held a hand out towards him, and Jason took it, Nico giving him a firm shake. 

“I’m Nico! It’s really nice to meet you!”

He didn’t fight the smile that came to him.

“Nice to meet you too.”

[cherrycheridarling]

'someday maybe' | t.h.

tom holland x singer!reader

warnings: one swear? fluff and angst? kisses

summary: you're so close to finishing your second album when your manager pushes the deadline, your ex tom helps you write the final track.

{listen to someday by michael bublè and meghan trainor (if you want)}

wc: 2.1k

"Someday maybe when we're old and grey,"

"Yes, yes. I know. You are not being a very helpful manager right now, Noelle." you spoke to your phone as you paced around the living room, "Okay. I'll get working on it. Bye." you huffed and threw your phone against the couch.

Your album was due to be released in two months and you needed one more song to tie it all together. Your manager, Noelle, was pushing you to finish the song so she could start the promo of the album.

You were incredibly grateful for your career, but the pressure weighed down on you everyday. Never ending.

With a final groan you picked up your acoustic guitar and sat on the couch. Picking at the strings, trying to find a melody. You hit record on your voice memo app before strumming away.

"Someday maybe when we're old and grey, we can be in love once more. 'Till then I won't give my love away. Darling, I'm forever only yours." you sang softly.

You and Tom had a joyous relationship. A love that only ever existed in movies and fairytales. The type of love story that gets told for generations and onwards. But alas, all good things must come to an end.

Your breakup was calm, serene and clean. A mutual agreement as if your whole relationship had been a business deal. There were no loose ends or jealous passive aggressive remarks made. Just maturity and respect for one another.

Your pinky still held the promise ring he gave you. A token of appreciation. A reassurance that he'd always be there for you. And he lived up to his word.

Tom walked in and sat across from you, startling you, "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you. Whatcha writing?"

"Need a final song for the album. Sorry for showing up unannounced. I just get better inspiration here, with all the memories, you know?" you timidly looked back down at the guitar.

Tom nodded, "No need to apologize. We gave you a spare key for a reason."

You couldn't stop yourself from spilling the words from your lips, "That was when we were together."

You could hear the awkward silence start to fill the room before he spoke again, "Still our best friend, Y/L/N."

The pain that crossed your features was instant. Being addressed by your last name felt like a stab to the gut. Especially by Tom.

You nodded before playing again, "Can I help you write it?" Tom asked as he sat next to you.

"Dancer, gymnast, actor and now songwriter. How many hidden talents have you got, Holland?" you teased making him laugh.

He shrugged with a smile, "It's kind of like writing a poem, right?"

You pondered on his analogy before slowly nodding, "Yeah, it kind of is. Give it a go."

You began playing the melody and he listened intently for a few moments before singing, "I love seeing you happy. I miss seeing that smile. It's been such a long time. A– Nope. Nope. Nuh-uh. I can't do it." he shook his head aggressively with a loud laugh as you stopped playing.

"No!" you quickly protested, "That was amazing! Don't leave me hanging, c'mon." you nudged him with your shoulder before strumming again.

"Alright, alright." he ran his hands down his face, "And although I don't have you, I know now that I need to?" he paused and gave you a skeptical look before you nodded again, "Somehow make you mine. Mmm."

"Oh, okay. He's giving ad-libs and all. Get it." you nodded as he laughed.

You were so engrossed on Tom actually writing a song with you that you didn't focus on the lyrics he was singing.

"And I won't lie, it's hard seeing you with him 'cause I know he can't hold you like I can." his mood seemed to drop by a thousand as the words left his lips.

"When can we meet this boyfriend of yours?" Harrison flicked your forehead from across the booth.

You, Harrison, Tom and Tuwaine were all sat in the local pub. Pints of beer in front of each of you as loud music and chatting filled your ears.

You shrugged, "He's picking me up, so possibly tonight."

Tuwaine's eyes lit up, "Fina-fucking-lly. I swear you've kept him hidden for years."

"We've only been together for three months, T." you laughed lightly with the group of boys.

And they met him. It wasn't the smoothest of introductions, but an introduction nonetheless.

"Boys, this is Kai. Kai this is Tom, Harrison and Tuwaine." you gestured to the parties as they all shook hands and gave polite greetings.

"So," Harrison started, "What do you do for a living, Kai?"

Kai cleared his throat, "I'm a Senior Resident at Kingston Hospital. Working towards being Head of Pediatrics."

Tuwaine and Harrison both nodded, impressed by his profession. Tom's face remained expressionless as he stared at Kai with cold eyes.

"Do you have any siblings, Kai? Any psycho ex-girlfriends? Any wacky cousins?" Tuwaine joked making everyone laugh. "'Cause Y/N has a lot of wacky cousins."

"We could be in love once more,"

"Hey!" you gasped with a laugh.

Kai pulled you closer to him as he laughed, "No, no wacky cousins or psycho exes, but I do have an older sister and a younger brother."

This game of ask and answer continued on for a few more minutes. Tom didn't say a word, just sipped his beer and burned holes into Kai with his eyes. If looks could kill, Kai would be six feet under.

Kai was a sweetheart, but you two ended ages ago. His work got too much for him and your job had you touring and travelling every second.

You picked up after him with the chorus before diving into your own verse, "I remember that love song. I sang every word wrong, but you didn't mind, no, no."

"I love the things you do. It's how you do the things you love. Well it's not a love song, not a love song. I love the way you get me, but correct me if I'm wrong. This is not a love song, not a love song!" Tom belted the 'Austin & Ally' song from the top of his lungs.

"Your turn!" he pointed the pretend mic in your direction.

You laughed, not knowing any of the lyrics, but still wanting to participate, "I love that you not a licket! And you own a watch and chicken! We got a car!" you sang with full confidence, making Tom burst with laughter.

"Yes! Sing it, darling!" he cheered you on, "Absolutely butchering the lyrics, but sing it!"

"Being stuck inside a car. If it's not a doe, don't kiss it! I can't hear a missing, when there's a shoe inside the ceiling! If you really need to fart, you can lunch on a pig farm! Love song! Love song!" you couldn't even hear the song in the background, your voice overpowering it.

Tom was hunched over from laughing before he came back up and planted a soft kiss on your lips, "You are one hundred percent ridiculous and I love it."

You brought yourself back to reality and sang again, "And I'll admit that I miss you, but only if you do. 'Cause you know that I'm shy. And I can't lie, it's hard seeing you with her. 'Cause I know she can't love you like I can."

Tom's eyes met yours as the words fell from your gentle lips. His mouth was slightly agape as you continued to strum.

"You are absolute rubbish. Imagine coming in eighth. Embarassing." you laughed as you crushed Harrison in a game of Mario Kart.

He shoved you with his shoulder, "You're such a try ha—"

"—It's always the same, Tom! How can I trust you? You follow gorgeous models on Instagram and expect me to trust you?" Nadia's voice cut Harrison's words off.

You looked at him with wide eyes, his expression matching yours.

"Those women that I follow have been my friends for ages. Who I follow on a stupid app shouldn't effect how much you trust me."

You paused the game, cutting off the theme song, "How long have they been fighting like this?"

Harrison sighed, a long groan following, "A few weeks. I think it started when she saw that he liked your Instagram picture?"

You stammered, "M-my post? She got mad about my post?"

Harrison nodded before opening his mouth to speak, but Nadia cut him off again, "And she practically lives here! How do you think it makes me feel seeing my boyfriend play house with a superstar?!"

"Aw, a superstar? I'm flattered." you joked making Harrison stifle a laugh.

"I've been friends with Y/N since we were in nappies!"

"I can't be with you if you're going to be friends with her."

Your laughter abruptly died at her words. Harrison stiffened beside you.

"Y-you can't be serious. You can't make me choose between you and her."

"Why? Because you're gonna choose her?" you could hear her voice crack.

"I-" Tom couldn't make out a sentence for a few moments, "Yeah. I'm gonna choose her."

Your heart fell from it's place, stopping at your feet. Harrison brought a hand to his mouth, "H-he chose you. He chose you!" he whisper shouted before you shushed him.

"Of course. I don't know why I expected anything different. I think I'll be going now." Nadia's footsteps approached the living room.

You and Harrison scrambled to look as if you weren't eavesdropping on their argument/breakup.

Tom followed close behind her, "I'm sorry. I really am."

She nodded, hand on the doorknob, "I know. Goodbye." she stepped out of the house, slamming the front door shut in the process.

Tom let out a breath of relief before turning to you and Harrison who were staring at the Mario Kart home screen with the infamous tune playing.

"You guys are terrible actors."

"'Till then I won't give my love away,"

"I'm forever only yours." the both of you finished the song in unison.

There was a moment of silence before you reached over and ended the voice recording.

"T-that was really good. You can change what I wrote, I know it isn't as good as anything you would've written, but I tried. And it was actually pretty fun and I never knew how difficult songwriting was un—"

"—Kiss me." you cut Tom's rambling off.

His eyes grew wide, "W-wha—"

"—Kiss me, Holland."

He swallowed, a small smile stretching on his lips, "Thank God."

And with that, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. Interlocking like missing puzzle pieces. Moving in sync like waves in the ocean. Soft and sweet, but filled with passion. You could feel his smile against your lips causing you to grin.

His hand came up to pull your face closer into his. Caressing your jaw, fingertips playing with the hairs on the back of your neck. His other hand holding your hip in a tight grip. Pressing the pads of his digits into your flesh, scared that you might slip through his fingers again.

One of your hands was pressed flat against his chest. Steadying yourself, the heat of the kiss threatening to throw you off of your axis. Your other hand tangled itself into Tom's curls. Pulling and tugging lightly causing small groans to fall from Tom's lips. Your fingernails scratching his scalp. Pulling him impossibly closer to you.

"I want my ten pounds." Harrison's voice snapped you and Tom out of your make out session.

Him and Tuwaine stood in the doorway, shit eating grins on their faces.

Tuwaine laughed before placing a ten pound note in Harrison's palm, "You guys couldn't have waited until next month to get back together?"

"You two were betting on us?" Tom laughed at his mates who nodded.

You shook your head with a smile, "Absolute idiots, all of you."

Harrison let out a happy sigh and pocketed the money, "Today was a good day. Had a sick ass shoot. Got ten pounds. And my best friends are finally together again." he waltzed into the kitchen with Tuwaine, leaving you and Tom alone again.

Tom's shy expression met your gleeful one before he spoke, "Someday came a lot sooner than expected, huh?" he chuckled.

You nodded with a laugh, "It certainly did and I am not complaining."

He sent you a wide grin before cupping your face and connecting your lips to his again.

"Darling, I'm forever only yours."

[moonsdancer]

Police Detective AU, Mel & Jayce

meljayvik week 2022 | prompt: au & mel x jayce

(and below, a snippet, fairly long, from an as-yet-unfinished, untitled, unedited fic about this very theme.... Rating: PG13, warning for mentions of violence typical of a police story and the 'verse, and swearing let me know if this should go higher, I don't think so but my levels might be wrong.)

snippet.

“Okay, pay attention!” Chief Heimerdinger yelled.

Jayce winced down at the case file he’d been reviewing. It was always impressive that a person of such diminutive height could make such a racket when he wanted to get the attention of the precinct and any stray, keen-eared passers-by on the street. The hulking form of Deputy Chief Vander stood behind Heimerdinger, keen eyes surveying the room with his boxer’s arms crossed over his chest.

Tossing the file on his desk, Jayce rotated his shoulders, grimacing at the loud crack at the top of his spine. He’d been stuck on desk duty for a month – courtesy of Heimerdinger. Apparently his “propensity for reckless decision-making and suicidal foolishness in the field” made him a risk to his colleagues and the city of Piltover. So, he’d been consigned to thirty days of dull desk work, reviewing old cases, to teach him some “humility and common sense.”

Viktor, his partner, hadn’t stopped bitching about it for the last 28 days either. Because he’d gotten stuck with hothead dickwad extraordinaire, Marcus, as a temporary replacement. And the experience was proving less than satisfactory for Jayce’s fastidious friend.

He clips his nails in the car, Jayce! While I’m sitting in there. And-and! He doesn’t even clean up after. Do you know how disgusting that is? The levels of psychopathy and deep disrespect for humans and property that takes?

As annoying as this torturous punishment was, it had been entirely worth it to see Viktor practically running away to avoid Marcus at all hours of the day.

“Right, esteemed colleagues, it is with a heavy heart that I must remind you of a most terrible circumstance.” Jayce rolled his eyes, Heimerdinger always had to go around the bend and halfway to Noxus with his overly formal speech.

“We have been facing a bit of a pickle of late with the Shimmer cases downtown.” The Chief bowed his head mournfully as he continued: “We’ve lost twelve innocent souls so far to the trafficking of this substance – and that’s only the deaths we’ve managed to link to our primary suspect, code named, Silco.”

Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, Jayce focused on Heimerdinger with unblinking intensity. This case had been the reason he’d been suspended. He cast his mind back to the particulars.

A grim morning in the seediest part of town, a miserable neighbourhood, fondly referred to as “Zaun” by locals and The Lanes for anyone who’d been lucky enough not to be born there, where much of the city’s most tragic cases played out. The constant oily sleet that often came with Piltover’s spring weather made the streets slippery and borderline impossible to navigate in the wrong pair of shoes.

That didn’t stop Jayce from jumping out of the car to chase their informant down the street. The kid, Deckard, with his ash-blond hair stuck to his skull and ever-present tremor in his hands that spoke of an addiction to some drug or other, likely the very one they were investigating by the deathly look to him, had flaked as soon as he saw their nondescript vehicle and did a runner.

Jayce hadn’t thought twice about following him, ignoring Viktor’s frustrated calls to get back in the car. Cars were useless in areas like The Lanes where the streets were narrow and littered with sloppy cardboard stalls hawking everything from booze to children’s toys and throngs of listless characters on every corner searching for a deal, a john, or a hit, often all three. He’d be better off on foot.

Or so he’d thought.

He’d followed the kid down several alleys, hoping that his tracker would at least hold signal this deep in Zaun’s labyrinths so Viktor could meet up with him. After half an hour of performing the kind of parkour he thought he’d left long ago in his childhood to keep up with Deckard, he felt something thwack the back of his head hard enough to make his ears ring.

Relying on the ingrained instincts of his training, he ducked to avoid the next hit, struggling not to collapse from the sharp throb at the base of his skull while he kicked his leg out and caught his attacker in the knee. A pained grunt before another swing of a bat aimed directly at his face. Jayce swerved just in time and made a grab for the weapon, yanking hard enough that it fell to the ground.

He couldn’t identify his assailants too well, just that they were fast and highly skilled and somewhat smaller than him. There was more than one of them and it was increasingly obvious that he’d run himself into a fucking trap.

The next time he saw that little shit, he really would throttle him.

Elbowing the one behind him, he grabbed the neck of mugger in front of him, forcing himself to ignore that they felt rail thin and bony, almost like a child and swung them face-down to his knee. The crunch of a broken nose and a pitched wail echoed in the alley.

He cringed and bent forward to flip the one behind him up and over, so they landed on their back with a thud. He kicked at their head with enough force to put them out for a few minutes for good measure.

Swaying on his feet, panting with exertion, he scanned the immediate area for anyone else and startled at the shadowy form of a slender man a few feet away.

“Well, well, Detective Jayce Talis of the New Piltover precinct. It is a pleasure to meet you.”

Jayce sneered. The guy sounded like a two-rate B-movie villain with the fake posh accent. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Do they not teach you manners in the local police force anymore?” B-movie villain asked, a sing-song lilt to his voice. “Pity.”

Jayce made to reach for his gun but was stopped by the whistling sound and the faint pinprick near the bottom of his ear. “What the hell—?”

Before he could complete his question, his vision started to swim, and he felt his body list sideways against his will until he landed on the filthy ground at his feet. He could feel the jagged edge of a bottle digging into his chin and smell the mix of piss, shit, blood, and gods knew what else as everything clouded over.

“Do tell your colleagues that Silco sends his regards,” B-movie villain said. His voice sounded so far away, almost like he was floating in the skies above.

Then everything went dark.

Blinking back to the present, Jayce homed in on what the Chief was saying as he ran his fingers over the faint scar that he’d gotten from the broken bottle. The precinct betting pool was torn between whether it made him look like a loser or rakishly charming. For him, the reminder of that encounter just made him pissed as all hell.

There’d been no word since on the Silco character since and he’d only been able to keep tabs on the investigation on the sly the last six weeks, given his restricted access.

“As you all know, we have hit something of a roadblock with the case until now.”

Jayce sat up a little straighter.

“Thanks to our friends at Runepol, the international investigative body, some new evidence has come to our attention linking heretofore unknown entity named Silco to an international drug trafficking ring, among other activities, headed up by well-known criminal scientist, Singed.”

The new information was compelling to be sure. But Jayce’s mind had frozen at the mention of Runepol.

Shit, shit, shit.

“Now, we have negotiated a partnership with our friends at Runepol, and a team of their agents will join our own special investigative unit dedicated to this case. This team will be led by Vander and Runepol’s Grayson. And you’ll be happy to know that one of your team members is someone who is an old friend to us—.”

Fuck, fuck, FUCK.

“Our dear, Agent Mel Medarda!”

A smattering of applause swept through the room, but Jayce couldn’t hear it because every single cell in his body seemed to have come to a pause. The only thing still moving were his eyes as they roved over the familiar, belov—the familiar form of the woman stood at the front of the room with her team.

She was just as beautiful as she’d always been, perhaps more than even he remembered. Her hair, which he remembered tumbling down to her shoulders in tight curls and twists, was caught up in a very professional-looking chignon, braids woven through with gold beads. Her curves, that he’d spent nights and many days tracing with his fingers, his mouth, his tongue, were encased in a crisp mulberry-red suit. Far different from the flowing caftans she used to wear back when she served exclusively on the intelligence and profiling unit here, dresses that seemed conservative until you noticed the thigh-high slits on the sides. He’d passed a lot of time fantasising about her legs in those dresses and even more time in hallway closets and bathrooms, sneaking his hands up the sides to touch her in ways this prim, proper version of Mel would no doubt find inappropriate.

Even so, Jayce felt his heart seize in the middle of his chest. It was amazing how five years could pass since she’d thrown his engagement ring in his face and walked out of their apartment, and he could still feel the intangible, overwhelming way he had when they were together. It hadn’t faded a bit.

“You okay, my friend?” a voice murmured from his left. Viktor sounded worried. Understandable, since the last time someone had even mentioned Mel’s name (three years ago, Caitlyn and Vi’s engagement party at the Kirraman’s chateau), it had sent Jayce on a drunken, depressive spiral that had lasted almost a week. And Viktor had probably spent more time than was strictly acceptable – even between best friends – cleaning up his congealed vomit, listening to his slurred rants and generally keeping him out of trouble.

Jayce forced himself to inhale deeply, chest expanding and contracting, as he met Mel’s gaze for a split-second before she looked at someone else behind him. As though she didn’t even remember him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

He wasn’t so sure.

*

“Jayce, Viktor, Cait and Vi, with me,” Deputy Vander grunted as the room began to disperse after Heimerdinger’s announcement.

When they all stood in front of their superior officer he said, “All of you will be with me on special unit with Runepol.”

“Aren’t I still on suspension?” Jayce blurted. Viktor elbowed him harshly in the side to shut up.

Vander’s furry brow arched as he sent a customary glare in his direction. “Do you want to still be on suspension, Talis? Because I had to negotiate long and hard with the Chief to include you on this team, but I can always bring on Sevika or Marcus if you’re too chicken shit to participate.”

This announcement brought forbidding glares and frantic hand signals from Vi and Viktor, who both had reason to despise the other two possibilities.

“No, sir,” Jayce said with a sloppy salute.

Vander rolled his eyes as he gestured to the spacious boardroom at the far-end of the bullpen. “We’ll all be working from in there. Be aware they expect our full cooperation. So, no dumb bitch stunts,” this was said with a look at Jayce. “No, rogue action, punch-ups and unauthorised investigations,” was directed to Vi. “And, please, a minimum of snarky, abrasive commentary,” which was aimed at Viktor and Caitlyn.

No one argued with the warnings.

“Now let’s go and meet our new team.”

Jayce hung back for a second or two, watching his friends head to where they’d been ordered. Vander hung back too, his keen investigator’s eyes scanning Jayce like he was a piece of particularly bothersome evidence or like he was worried Jayce was about to start screaming like a hysteric in the middle of the precinct.

“You all right, kid?”

Jayce wasn’t sure how he felt so he said, “All good, Chief.”

Vander sighed and turned around to lead the way to the boardroom.

*

In the end, coming face to face with Mel wasn’t as dramatic as it might’ve been. She sat in her seat near the windows as Viktor and a member of the Runepol team, Elora, walked the collective through the case so far, each bringing the evidence gathered from their respective departments.

Jayce made sure not to look at her throughout the presentation. At least he tried, and mostly succeeded.

That was another thing that hadn’t changed. The way she drew his gaze to her no matter where they were, a magnet.

But, to his surprise, there were times when their gazes would clash. She’d look away, skittish almost, and then he’d catch her minutes later eyeing him from beneath her lashes.

It was… Jayce wasn’t sure how it made him feel to have her looking. But a familiar thrill of electricity went through him just at the idea of it. Fuck, he was screwed.

Inspector Grayson strode to the front of the room. She had the bearing of someone with military background and the steely gaze of someone you didn’t want to fuck with. “Vander and I have decided that we’ll split the team into pairs.”

Jayce felt a premonitory shiver down his spine.

“You will work together to review various pieces of evidence and follow up leads, and report back to the collective at the start and end of each day.” Grayson cleared her throat, although it did little to dispel the husky smoker’s growl of her voice. “It goes without saying that we’ve split you up based on your skill sets and capacities to ensure the best complement. We will not reassign anyone. You don’t get along, then find a way to do so or else you’re off the unit entirely. Understood?”

Vander stepped up with a clipboard that made him look like a summer camp leader instead of a hardened enforcer. “Viktor you’re with Sky. Vi and Elora. Cait, you’ll work with Shoola. And Medarda and Talis, you’re together.”

Jayce didn’t let himself outwardly react to the assignment. He should’ve figured that was the case when Vander had cast his beady eye at him earlier.

Of course, they were together. That was because they’d proven time and again that they could be brilliant as partners. Jayce’s brash, hands-on street-smart methods were a good complement to Mel’s more intuitive approach to analysing evidence and profiling criminals. Where he was great at getting a suspect to talk through the sheer force of his will and his occasionally fists, Mel could charm the pants off anyone, whether in a grimy bar or an upmarket hotel.

So, he wasn’t surprised.

He could only hope things didn’t go haywire like they had the last time. He could only hope that he didn’t lose his shit like he had the last time.

Jayce watched as Mel picked up a pile of files, his eyes flicked down to where she was nibbling on her lower lip. Something she always did when she was feeling slightly unsure of herself. He didn’t let himself imagine doing the nibbling for her, not even for one solitary second.

Yep. This partnership would work out just fucking fine. They would just need to keep focused, keep things professional, and he wouldn’t be an overbearing dick and she wouldn’t be a supercilious bitch, and everything would be copacetic.

*

“You look … healthier,” Mel said lowly, her moss-green eyes meeting his placidly.

“You look different,” Jayce said at almost the same time.

They both froze and blurted out at the same time, “What the hell do you mean by that?”

Yeah, things would go just swimmingly, Jayce thought as he cringed internally.

Before either of them could respond, a cool voice interjected. “Mel, it’s good to see you, long time.”

Her face transformed into a frankly dazzling smile as she turned to Viktor. “Viktor, a long time indeed! I read through your paper on the developments in ballistics comparing the Noxian Beretta X59 and the Luger M20 – it was brilliant!”

It was alarming how quickly she could turn on the charm. But what was even more surprising was Viktor suddenly becoming the most talkative little shit in the room.

“Thanks, I appreciate that. Also, thanks for sending me that file, it was really helpful for my conclusion.”

What?

“You’re welcome. I only found it by accident in Runepol’s archives and immediately thought of you.”

Wait, what?

“I’ll have to send you some of the respondents—even Heimerdinger was mad about some of the conclusions I reached.”

Jayce had a sense he was looking like a cartoon at this point, head swivelling back and forth between them. Since when did Viktor, his best friend and partner, and Mel, his former fiancée, send each other emails and research materials and whatever else? He was about to ask just that when a strident voice bellowed:

“Oy, do I pay you lot to stand around this room gossiping? Get to work!” Vander didn’t look one bit amused at any of them for milling around instead of getting on with it.

Viktor took his leave. Jayce noted that his traitor-friend was avoiding even making eye contact with him. Good. He didn’t even want to know just how long these two had been keeping in touch and being all buddy-buddy. It’s not like it was actually that surprising given they’d both gotten along back in the old days. It was jarring was all.

“So, we’re to start with patrol duty in the lower Lanes, then case review in the evening, ready to head out?” Mel shuffled the folders in her hand unnecessarily as she said it. She was wearing her professional game-face, Jayce could tell, as she quirked her brows at him, awaiting an answer.

“Sure, let’s go.” He made for the door and didn’t bother to look if she was following. The old him would’ve been much more chivalrous and at least held the door open for her. But he didn’t want to piss her off any more than necessary. “I’ll drive.”

“I wouldn’t have presumed any different,” she muttered.

He wasn’t sure whether it was a good thing or not that Mel remembered just how possessive he got about The Hammer, his beloved ’67 Chevy....

[to be completed, one day, when I am no longer a lazy arse]