#Damn I sound like an add for some shitty app

[the-dyke-of-handsomeness]

did you like my pun

Yes I enjoyed it.

I’ll have you know I’ve read all of your comics for free

[sincerelyneo]

woman | h.rj

“i hope you can see the shape that i’m in while he’s touching your skin”

💿now playing: woman by harry styles

❯ summary: Renjun is selfish - he knows. He knows that he has no right to be jealous of Shotato, your dance partner, but he is. Because even though he broke up with you, you’re still his.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader (ft. riize’s shotaro)

❯ genre: exes, smut, angst, idol!au

❯ words: 6.5k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, jealousy, swearing, arguing, slight angst, smut, dom!renjun, unprotected sex (don't do this!), marking, possessiveness, oral sex (f receiving), praising, mirror sex, hair pulling, creampie, porn with a little bit of plot, use of 'my girl', reader uses she/her pronouns, literally just renjun being jealous and sulky for 6k words.

Fuck Osaki Shotaro. 

That’s the only thing going through Renjun’s mind as he sees the younger dancer have his hands all over you in your dance rehearsal. 

Renjun knows he has no right to be seething right now - he’s the one that broke up with you - but there’s something about seeing Shotaro in your personal space, tracing his fingers down your torso, and making you smile with every compliment he gives you on your technique that’s really starting to piss him off.  

It's not that Renjun has any specific issue with Shotaro himself; any guy in his position would irk him. Still, it’s Shotaro's love for helping others improve their dancing that only adds fuel to Renjun's frustration, especially now that he's volunteered to assist you.

As Renjun feigns busyness on his phone, waiting for his own rehearsal, he seethes behind the glass of the practice room, a visible vein pulsing on his forehead. 

“Dude, you’re practically burning holes into Taro’s hoodie,” Chenle chuckles as he walks over, a smirk playing on his lips as he gazes down at Renjun.

“Don’t be so ridiculous, I’m not!” Renjun rolls his eyes and moves his bag to make room for Chenle to sit on the floor beside him.

“Oh yeah?” Chenle teases, “Then what’s with the bursting vein on your forehead?”

“I’ve just been replying to some shitty emails,” he lies, hastily locking his phone and stuffing it into his pocket.

Chenle quirks a brow and gives him a deadpan look, “You had the weather app open.”

Renjun runs a hand through his hair, about to defend himself, but then he hears your laughter and his gaze snaps back to the glass instantly. 

Shotaro's hand delicately trails along the curve of your waist, before he pulls you into a graceful twirl. You laugh softly, the sound echoing in the room loud enough for everyone outside to hear. Your movements are fluid and seamless against each other, and it’s starting to make Renjun feel sick.  

What dance lesson requires the instructor to twirl and dip the student?

Shotaro's grin is infectious as he spins you around, and you giggle in response. Renjun’s not stupid - he can see the chemistry, the easy camaraderie that exists between the two of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it. 

As Renjun's eyes fixate on the scene inside the practice room, he scoffs tonguing the inside of his cheek. Chenle follows his gaze and smiles, an idea popping into his head. He lets out a low whistle. "Damn, they're really going for it, huh?"

Renjun clenches his jaw, trying to tamp down the surge of irritation. "Yeah, well, they're just rehearsing," he mutters dismissively. 

“Just rehearsing? We don’t rehearse like that,” Chenle counters, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Renjun looks up at him with a scowl. He doesn’t know what’s worse, what’s going on in front of him or the irritating little man next to him who seemingly loves poking the already angry bear. He can practically feel the amusement radiating off his friend as if he's revelling in his torment. It's infuriating, but Renjun knows he can't let it get to him. Instead, he focuses back on the glass, his jaw clenched tight as he watches Shotaro's infectious grin and your giggles echo through the room.

“Taro’s cool, I’m sure if you asked him to stop dancing with Y/N he would,” Chenle suggests. 

But Renjun's got more pride than that. He's just about able to handle the teasing from his friends about his jealousy, and he knows that telling Taro to back off would only add fuel to the fire of ridicule. And he's not sure if he's ready to deal with that.

“I don’t mind Y/N and him dancing together,” he shrugs.

Chenle’s face falls flat, “Huang Renjun don’t lie to me. You’re jealous.”

“No, I’m not!” His voice raises to an audio level that’s louder than he would like, gaining the attention of some of the other members outside the room.

"Hey, man, look I’m sorry, but it's okay to feel jealous. You two dated for a long time,” Chenle pats him on the shoulder gently. “Honestley I’m shocked the two of you even broke up.”

So is Renjun - even though he knows he was the one who initiated it. Honestly, there was no good reason for your breakup now that he thinks about it - now that he sees you with someone else. The reason behind the breakup stemmed from Renjun’s growing anxiety that being an idol would force distance between the two of you. You had assured him it wouldn’t, and you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be his girlfriend; still, Renjun figured separation would be the best despite your protests. 

He sighs, feeling a mix of frustration and gratitude for Chenle's understanding. "I know, it's just..." He trails off. He doesn’t know how to properly articulate what he’s feeling without sounding like a hypocrite.

Still, Chenle nods sympathetically. "Just give yourself some time, Renjun. It'll get easier."

Renjun offers a weak smile in response before turning back to the glass. He doesn’t have his phone in his hand to ‘distract’ him now so he has to watch the scene in front of him, and his heart sinks.

He doesn’t even know how it happened, one minute the two of you are just laughing together, then he turns to talk to Chenle for another and as he turns back to you, Shotaro's hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with a tender touch. Your eyes flutter closed, a soft sigh escaping your lips as you lean into his touch, your bodies inching closer.

He can't tear his eyes away, the sight before him a painful reminder of what once was and what now feels so out of reach. Renjun's fists clench at his sides, his nails digging into his palms as he struggles to contain himself.

It's not just the physical proximity that stings, but the undeniable chemistry between you and Shotaro that Renjun just can't ignore. The way your laughter intertwines with his, the way your eyes lock - it's like a dagger to his heart, reopening wounds he thought had healed.

But just as your lips are about to meet, Renjun's up on his feet and barging through the practice room door without a knock. 

"Alright, rehearsal time's over," he announces, his tone clipped and authoritative as he strides into the room.

Shotaro immediately pulls away from you, glancing at Renjun, who responds with a scowl. Despite the tension, Renjun can't help but feel a sense of relief as the two of you separate.

"Hyung, we've still got fifteen minutes—"

"We need to start early today, gotta prep for the comeback and all," he interrupts.

Renjun's gaze shifts to you. You're shaking your head at him, hands on your hips, your midriff exposed and glistening with a thin sheen of sweat. It brings back memories of all the times he's fucked you in this very practice room. Apart from the physical closeness, the fact that Shotaro got to witness you like this - sweaty and out of breath -  infuriates him.

“That’s not fair Jun, we booked this room for the full hour, you can’t just barge in like this!” You argue with him, but Renjun can’t even take in anything you’re saying because even after your months apart, you still use that nickname for him. 

Shotaro snaps him back to attention, “It’s fine, Y/N, we can reschedule for next week.”

Like hell you will, Renjun thinks.

You narrow your eyes at your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and heading for your dance bag, tossing it on your shoulder and heading to the exit. You make sure to slam your shoulder into his body as you pass him, muttering how much you hate him under your breath. 

Shotaro’s about to follow your lead, hoisting his own bag over his shoulder, but Renjun stops him in his tracks.

“Taro, can I talk to you for a sec?” 

Shotaro nods, slinging his bag back down but pausing by the door. 

Taro 1:25 pm

Sorry Y/N, I won’t be able to help you with your

rehearsals anymore, something’s come up. 

There’s just no way. You look down at the text message, confused. 

Shotaro loves dancing, he loves teaching people choreography and helping them improve, so you know there’s no possible way he’d cancel your sessions like this with no word of rescheduling. Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize it's Wednesday afternoon - around the time Shotaro usually finishes his dance practices with his group. With a furrowed brow, you decide to head over to the practice rooms to ask him about it.

After all, you liked Taro and his teaching methods. 

As you approach the practice rooms, the faint strains of music drift through the hallway, accompanied by a few stops and restarts. Finally, you reach the room where Riize is rehearsing. The door stands slightly ajar, and you pause, opting to linger and peer through the glass instead. Inside, you see them all - sweaty and breathless, a clear sign that they've reached the end of their session.

You're about to knock on the door when you hear Anton's voice from inside. "Taro, are you eating with us today, or are you practising with Y/N again?"

“I’m not helping Y/N out anymore,” he replies and you deflate a little. 

“Why? I thought you liked dancing with her.”

Shotaro groans audibly, then passes his water bottle to Eunseok, who starts chuckling.

“What’s funny?” Anton asks.

“Hasn’t he told you?” Eunseok interjects, casting a glance between them, “Taro loves dancing with Y/N, but last week Renjun made it known that he’s not too keen on it.”

Anton’s face channels your own, because what the fuck did that mean?

You look down at the text message again, and now that you look at it, it only has one person written all over it. 

You know your ex-boyfriend better than anyone, and just from the way he crashed your practice last week, you could tell that the dance rehearsals with his old group member were getting under his skin. You won’t lie, there’s a part of you that liked the idea of irritating him, riling him up now and then just to be reminded that he still cared. But you’d never think he’d go this far. 

“It’s true,” Shotaro confirms, “Last week he told me to hang back after one of our practices, and he asked me to…” he clams up abruptly when he sees you standing in the doorway, arms folded tight across your chest. 

“He asked you to what?”

Shotaro doesn’t answer. The laughter between the boys suddenly runs quiet as you all just look at each other. 

“Finish that sentence, Taro.”

He groans and runs a hand through his hair, “Y/N, come on, he told me not to say anything—”

“Tell me what he said to you, he doesn’t just get to make demands about me anymore.”

“It wasn’t exactly a demand…” he mumbles, “More of a request.”

You give him a knowing look, “I swear to God if you don’t tell me what you know right now Shotaro, I’ll—”

“Okay, okay,” he interrupts, “I’ll tell you.”

Around half an hour after grilling Shotaro and his group members for the truth, you burst through the practice room of NCT DREAM. The air is hot and humid, and it only channels the fury that’s built up in your muscles since finding out about your ex-boyfriend’s silly little plan. Huang Renjun has officially crossed the line and there’s no way on this Earth you’re going to let him get away with it without a lecture.

The boys all look a mixture of shocked and surprised to see you. And you don’t blame them, the last time you were in a practice with them, you were happy, probably bringing your boyfriend lunch to make sure he’d eaten. But this time you’re angry, so angry you’re body is trembling.

“Huang Renjun!”

He turns around almost instantly, and instead of looking scared about your anger, he fucking smirks with that stupid beautiful smile you hate (love).

“Y/N?” He responds innocently, though there's a glint of mischief in his eyes that tells you he's well aware of the storm about to be unleashed upon him.

As you and Renjun lock eyes, a heavy silence descends upon the room, punctuated only by the sound of your breathing. Mark, ever perceptive, notices the tension crackling between you, and like a good leader he senses the need to diffuse the situation. 

"Alright, everyone," he interjects, his voice firm yet soothing. "Let's take a break, yeah?"

Because of Mark's intervention, the boys nod in agreement, gathering their belongings and exchanging knowing glances and whispers as they file out of the practice room one by one.

With the others now gone, you waste no time laying into him, “What is the matter with you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he shrugs. 

You scoff, frustration bubbling up inside you. "Don’t pull that clueless shit with me. He told me what you did!”

His facade cracks ever so slightly, a flicker of uncertainty crosses his features before he quickly masks it with a defiant smirk. "And what exactly do you think I did?"

"Oh, don't play dumb," you snap, advancing towards him with each step. "You told Shotaro to cancel our dance lessons, didn't you?"

Renjun's expression remains infuriatingly neutral, but there's a glint of defiance in his eyes that sets your blood boiling even more. "And if I did?"

The audacity of his response only serves to fuel your rage. "Do you have any idea how selfish and manipulative that is?" You accuse, your voice rising with each word. "You have no right to interfere with my life anymore!"

He doesn’t look at all remorseful as he shrugs, “I’m not interfering in your life, I just figured Shotaro shouldn’t overflow his schedule.”

You shake your head in disbelief, “You’re unbelievable. That’s not your call to make. You’ve never had a problem with Shotaro teaching anybody else to dance until me.”

“That was before Riize debuted, it’s different now Y/N.”

“No, it’s not fair!” You snap, “You’re not being fair.”

“I’m just looking out for Taro…as his senior.”

“No, you’re not, you’re doing this to piss me off!” You groan, “So I’m asking you why?”

Renjun clings to the last shred of his pride, attempting to brush past you to grab his water bottle, hoping to deflect the conversation elsewhere. But you weren't about to let him off that easily. You reach out and grab his hand as he tries to slip past.

Your eyes plead with him, and he cracks under the weight of your gaze.

"What do you want me to say, Y/N?" He finally erupts, his voice rising in frustration. "You want me to admit that I'm fucking jealous, that I can't stand the thought of him with you?"

“What, if you can’t have me no one else can?”

He goes quiet at that and just looks at you, the silence speaks a thousand words and you can’t believe his audacity right now. 

With a heavy sigh, you run a hand through your hair, exhaustion creeping in. "You broke up with me," you remind him, your voice barely above a whisper.

Renjun's expression softens for a fleeting moment, a trace of remorse flickering in his eyes before it's replaced. "I know," he admits. "But that doesn't mean I stopped caring about you."

You take a step back, his words hitting you harder than you expected. "Caring about me doesn't give you the right to meddle in my life.”

He reaches out tentatively, his hand hovering in the air between you as if unsure whether to touch you or not. "I messed up, okay? It’s just, I don’t like the way he touches you. I guess…I let my jealousy get the best of me."

"Jealousy?" You repeat. "After everything that's happened between us, you're still jealous?"

Renjun's gaze drops to the floor, unable to meet yours. "I can't help it," he admits, his voice barely audible. "Seeing you with him, it just... it drives me crazy."

You shake your head in disbelief, struggling to process his confession. "You broke up with me, Renjun. You made that choice."

"I know," he repeats, his voice filled with remorse. "And I regret it every day."

You're torn between anger and longing, resentment and yearning. Honestly, ever since he broke up with you there hasn’t been a day where you haven’t missed him. You’ve waited to hear him say those words - that he regrets leaving you - but you’re not about to make it easy for him to just crawl back. 

You narrow your eyes at him, a mischievous glint dancing in them as a sly smile tugs at the corners of your lips. "You know, Shotaro is a great dancer," you say, your tone deliberately casual.

Renjun's jaw clenches at the mention of the name, his gaze flickering with a mix of anger and insecurity. 

"It's been interesting to know he's always there for me now that you're not,” you say with a nonchalant shrug, enjoying the way his irritation simmers beneath the surface.

You watch as his hands clench into fists at his sides, his chest rising and falling with each aggravated breath. His eyes darken with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine, but you refuse to back down.

"It's almost as if he's filling a void that you left behind," you continue. "But I suppose that's just the way things go after a breakup, isn't it?"

The taunt hits its mark and Renjun's temper flares. In a sudden burst of rage, he closes the distance between you, his grip tightening on your shoulders as he presses you against the nearby mirror. His gaze turns possessive as he leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear. 

"You really think I'll let him have you like that so easily?” He asks, voice low and dangerous.

You shiver at the intensity of his words, feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. "And what makes you think that’s your call to make?" 

A wicked smile tugs at Renjun's lips, his eyes gleaming with determination. "Because deep down, you know you’re still my girl," he asserts. "No matter how much you keep trying to deny it, you know you’re mine."

You scoff, trying to ignore the way his words resonate within you, "You can't just break up with me and then waltz back into my life claiming me as your own, Jun!" 

He smiles at the nickname again, and it gives him the confidence boost he needs to know you still want him, still crave him the way he craves you. 

"Oh but I can," he counters, his tone unwavering. He brings his finger to your cheek, tracing it along your skin until it rests underneath your chin. "Because no one else can make you feel the way I do. No one else knows you like I do."

His words send a shiver down your spine. All the good times you have with him replay in your mind and despite your best efforts to resist, you find yourself succumbing to the magnetic pull of his presence, to the familiarity of his touch.

"You’re fucking crazy babe if you think I’ll let some other man have you," he whispers. "Especially him.”

Your eyes narrow, he’s so close now that the two of you are practically sharing the same breath.

“And you’re fucking crazy if you think you have a say in my relationships.”

He remains unfazed at your rebuttal, his gaze unwavering as he leans in closer, his lips dangerously close to yours now. "Maybe I am," he concedes smugly. "But deep down, you know you still want me."

Part of you wants to push him away, to resist the pull of him, but another part - the part that still aches for his touch, for his love - finds itself surrendering.

"Renjun," you whisper, voice barely above a breath. "I..."

And before you can finish your sentence, his lips crash against yours in a heated, passionate kiss, his pent-up frustration and desire spilling over into the touch. It's a tumultuous mix of emotions - there’s still so much unresolved between the two of you - but you get lost in the moment. You melt into his embrace, and perhaps, just perhaps, being possessed by Renjun again isn't such a bad thing after all.

As the kiss deepens, your hands tangle themselves into his hair until it’s dishevelled and the lines between love and hate blur. It's a dangerous game you're playing, dancing on the razor's edge between desire and destruction, but right now you couldn't care less about the consequences. You can talk about all that later - after he fucks you. 

He pulls back for a breath, trailing kisses down from your lips to your neck, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body.

"God, I've missed you," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin.

"I've missed you too," you gasp out as he starts to nibble on your earlobe.

He moves his hand up higher along your thigh until it reaches the hem of your shorts, and he wastes no time slipping his fingers inside them. “It’s been too long.”

You exhale as you feel his hand brush against the edge of your panties before slipping under them. He runs his hand through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes before finding your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you move your hips instinctively towards him.

"You're so wet already," he murmurs as he starts to rub circles around your clit. “This all for me?”

You arch your back in pleasure, feeling a wave of heat surge through your body. You nod pathetically, not being able to form a coherent sentence because the familiar feeling of Renjun's touch makes you feel dizzy. He smirks at your reaction, then pulls out his hand making you whimper from the loss of friction. 

You know you’re fueling his ego with your whining, but you can’t help it. You hadn’t realised just how much you missed the feeling of his hands before they were being ripped away from you so abruptly. 

“You know, you never asked me for dance lessons when we were dating,” he says - almost accusatory -  between soft pants as his kisses return to your jaw, trailing down your neck. His hands slowly travel from your legs and past your waist, dancing along your exposed sides until his fingers are fiddling with the straps of your sports bra. 

You can’t stand his teasing, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned about sex with Renjun, it’s that you play by his rules.

“I know,” you remark, a little breathless.

“And I hated every time he would touch your skin, and how much it would make you laugh and smile,” he growls, gently nipping your neck and soothing the spot with his tongue. “I want all your fucking smiles, Y/N.”

You hold back a whimper as he sucks a small spot just beside your collarbone, a mark you know you’re going to have to cover tomorrow. 

“Seems quite selfish, Jun.”

“I guess I am when it comes to you.”

His fingers take off your bra, exposing your naked breasts to him. You gasp at the cool air making your nipples toughen. He looks up at you, his gaze dark and wild and sending a shot of pleasure straight through you. Not once does he break contact as his hands slide down your body, grazing your nipples until you shiver, and travel down until he is back at the hem of your shorts.

His fingers dance along your inner thighs before they trace along the hem of your panties. Your breath hitches as he skims along your clothed clit, not enough to be truly stimulating but enough to make you bite down in anticipation.

He knows you want more, but your impatience is his favourite part. 

So he doesn’t bother to hide his smirk as he wraps his fingers around your waistband and slowly tugs on your shorts and panties together, pushing them down until they pool at your ankles where you swiftly step out of them. 

The smile on his lips can only be described as feral. “So damn pretty,” he mumbles, “And it’s all mine, yeah?”

You smile as you shake your head. “Possessive much?”

“Maybe a little bit,” he smiles. “But don’t pretend that you haven’t missed that about me.”

“Bold of you to think I’ve missed things about you.”

He grins. “Deny it all you want babe, but the fact you’re the one naked right now speaks volumes.”

You blush at the revelation and the fact that he’s fully clothed whilst you’re bare. You turn your head to the side and mumble. “That doesn’t mean I missed you.”

"Oh?" He raises his eyebrow, his finger gently finding the underside of your jaw, tilting it to meet his gaze. His pupils are dilated, filled with a level of lust you didn’t even know was possible. “Then maybe I need to show you exactly what you’ve been missing.”

That’s when he finds himself dropping to his knees, his head dipping low enough to kiss up your thighs. You let out a small sigh as his lips latch onto your skin, nipping and sucking in the same way he used to do when he wanted to leave a trail of marks.

Your lip gets trapped between your teeth, and the cold from the mirror behind you lingers on your exposed back. You look down and wish you could see the look in his eyes right now, yearning to see the hungry glint as he’s between your thighs. You can’t help your nails from digging into his shoulders as you relax into his tantalizing kisses.

“Still so fucking responsive to me, aren’t you?” His words fan over your heated skin, his breath so close to your clit you can’t take much more.

“Don’t tease me, Junnie,” you breathe out. 

He laughs softly before pressing a gentle kiss against your clit, his tongue darting out to follow his lips. He can’t help but grin when he feels your nails digging deeper into his skin. His hands move to cup your ass, squeezing the flesh and basking in your moans. 

He loved it more than anything when his girl was always so vocal, he could get drunk off the sound. Especially when he knows it’s his tongue licking along your soaking cunt and was making you whine like that.

You’re like putty in his hands, breathless and barely able to form coherent sentences as he teases you. And before you can even whine for more, his insatiable need to taste you gets the best of him and one of your legs is being thrown over his shoulder so his face can nuzzle further against your cunt.

“Fuck,” he groans against you, the hum of his words vibrating against your clit. Your knees buckle under the sensation but the tight grip he has on your ass keeps you upright. “Still taste like fucking heaven.”

“Shit,” you moan before throwing your head back. 

“Only for me, right?” He mutters, ignoring your whine as he pulls himself away from your cunt to look up at you before adding a stern, “Answer me.” 

“Yes, yes.” You’re so needy right now that you don’t even care that it comes out in pants. “Only you.”

“That’s right, no one gets to taste this cunt but me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “You’re mine, every fucking part of you.”

He savours the way your cheeks burn red as you nod vigorously in agreement. His mouth finds your pussy again, and now that he has your omission, he doesn’t bother holding back. He loves the way your eyes flutter shut, and the shameless moans escaping your lips as he devours you like you're the last thing he’ll ever taste - he’s certain it will be the last pussy he’ll ever taste.

You can barely think as his fingers run up and down your thighs, slowly travelling up until his thumb is pressing slow, torturous circles on your clit as his tongue dives inside you, lapping and rolling. His teasing along with the fast tempo of his tongue makes your hips rock subconsciously against his face. 

“Please, please, please.” 

The words are a shameless plea, and you can’t help it because he has your legs physically shaking.

“Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl for me and cum on my tongue.”

The simple words of praise are enough for your body to be hit with a strong wave of pleasure. Your muscles tense, your body shakes, and your thighs run wet and slick with a mix of your release and his spit. The room is only filled with pants and you feel a few soft kisses being placed along your thighs. 

Seconds later, his face, plastered with a very smug smile, appears in your line of sight. You notice how his lips and chin glisten; you didn’t think it was possible but you grow even more wet at the sight.

“I’ve missed making you cum.” 

You can’t help the huff of laughter that escapes you. “I guess I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.”

“You guess?”

“I know,” you correct, “I know I’ve missed you being the one making me cum.” You bite down on your lower lip. “Starting to think I should have more dance lessons with Shotaro to make you jealous more often.”

His eyes instantly darken. “That’s not even funny.”

Your smirk widens, “It is a little bit.”

“You think mentioning another man’s name after I’ve just made you cum with my tongue is funny?” He asks, and his hands find their way to tighten on your waist. “Did I not make you cum hard enough if you’re struggling to remember who you belong to?”

You’re amused by his comment, nail lightly trailing along his lower lip before he playfully nips it. “I don’t belong to you anymore.”

He shakes his head with a tut, “Stop it, you know you belong to me, just as I belong to you. Always have, always will.”

“You must’ve been really intimidated by Shotaro to be this possessive right now,” you tease.

“Doesn’t matter though does it?” He squeezes your waist tighter. “Because Shotaro wouldn’t stand a fucking chance against me. He doesn’t know your body like I do.”

Your breath hitches, hands gripping his shoulders. “He could learn.”

The muscles in his jaw flex and his eyes sharpen, “Not a chance.”

His lips tease along your jaw, and he grins when you move your head to the side to give him better access. “You think he could make you cum like I do? Think he’d know how to make you scream like you do for me?”

The grip he has on your hips is a mixture of pain and pleasure. You feel him smile against your skin when his lips kiss over the developing mark on your collarbone, already starting to turn purple, from earlier. 

Then, without warning, he’s flipping you around and pressing you against the cold glass of the mirror. The plush flesh of your tits flatten against it along with your hands, making you gasp. He’s quick to find your ear, nibbling at it before whispering. 

“He’d never get the chance to even look at this pussy.”

“Fuck, Jun,” you squirm.

You know you’ve hit a nerve when you see his reflection toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers with one hand still on your hip. 

It’s clear as day that he wants to claim what was his, and you’re more than happy to let him do so. Because the look of determination bordering on something more territorial sends a thrill through you. 

You can see everything in this position, from the way he has you firm in his grip, to the way he’s slowly stripping from his own set of clothes. You watch as he grabs the flesh of your ass and squeezes it. And he can see you too, your flushed-out expression. 

“Bet Shotaro doesn’t know you like watching yourself get fucked out, huh?”

You exhale deeply, making his smirk grow as he runs his hands along your skin, slowly venturing to lightly tease along your slit. 

“And he’ll never get to know. Isn’t that right?”

Your eyes don’t leave his through the glass, “I don’t know,” you tease, “Maybe you should give me a good enough reason to make sure he never gets to know.”

You watch as he leans closer to you, his back slowly covering yours as he kisses against the nape of your neck. His cock head is teasing your entrance, sliding up and down your cunt tormentingly. 

“You know I love a challenge babe.”

He doesn’t even give you a beat to throw a snarky remark back at him because he finally thrust into you, deep and thick and just the perfect fucking  fit. Your eyes roll, matched by the guttural moan he lets vibrate beside your ear as you clench around him, listening to the small list of curses he lets slip past his lips.

“Already squeezing around my cock, huh?” He hisses through tight teeth, hands tangling in your hair and giving a sharp tug so your eyes snap open. “Eyes on me. I want you to see how much you fucking missed my cock.”

Your eyes are weak and hooded and your skin is flushed. You so desperately want to flutter them closed, but not more than you want to obey his command. So, you open them hazily and Renjun can’t get enough of it - enough of you. 

The way you let out cute, little whimpers with every thrust; the way your hands clench into fists against the mirror as he pounds into you from behind, his tempo unforgiving and merciless. The way his hand tangles in your hair to tug you close enough that your back is pressed against his chest. The way your own chest is heaving up and down, hips wiggling against his. 

He watches as your fist unclenches and comes to cover your mouth in a feeble attempt to hide your moans – that won’t do, he thinks.

“Don’t you dare hide those moans from me,” his voice may be breathy but it’s still commanding. The hand not in your hair snakes around your body so he can cup your tit. “I haven’t heard them for months, so don’t hide them from me.”

“And whose fault is that?” You counter, followed by soft whimpers as he squeezes your breasts.

“Stop reminding me.”

He rolls his eyes as his hand travels down the plain of your stomach, until his fingers reach the sensitive nub between your thighs, making you press your lips together.

The pace of his thrusts - deliberately harsh and sharp to entice moans from you - has you biting down on your lower lip.

“Look at yourself baby,” his breath fans over your heated skin. “So fucking pretty. All wrecked out for me.”

Your hair is tangled, wild and messy, and your thighs slick. It’s the hundredth time your body has begun shaken with desperation for his touch and - well -  you just look so damn needy. 

But who can blame you? Huang Renjun makes you feel things that no other person has. He hits spots so deep inside you, spots you didn’t even know existed. He is just not like anyone else and you love that he was all yours and you were all his.

And just when you think you couldn’t become more of a mess, the muffled words he speaks in your ear as he fucks into you are filthy enough to have you tittering on the edge. 

“Junnie!”

Your orgasm comes crashing down. Hot pleasure rushes through your veins and then throughout your whole body. Your hand reaches behind you to cling onto him like a lifeline, nails digging into his skin as he fucks you through his own release. Your head feels fuzzy with the feeling of his cock driving in and out of you along with his moans – especially when he lands one last final sharp thrust inside of your cunt. 

He holds your body close to his for a moment, letting the seconds pass as his mouth plants kisses messily against your shoulder. You shudder when you feel him pull out of you slowly, and then you feel his wet sticky cum dripping down your thigh. 

He grabs for your panties, which have been disregarded somewhere in the room, and starts to wipe off the cum on your skin. It doesn’t even register in your mind what he’s doing until you properly look at him in the mirror.

You try to pull away from him, but his hand finds your hip and holds you in place. “Renjun! I need to put those back on!” 

“Your point?”

You shake your head and look at him through the mirror, “I have rehearsals and my panties are going to be sticky from your cum.”

He smirks smugly, almost excited at the idea of you having rehearsals. He stands back to his feet holding your panties out for you to take. 

“Good,” he shrugs, “That way if Shotaro wants to try anything, he knows you already belong to someone.”

You scoff and take the panties from his hand, slipping them past your ass with a roll of your eyes. You both find the rest of your clothes, dressing yourselves quickly.  Honestly, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t slightly aroused at the idea of you wearing panties filled with his cum during a rehearsal. 

“Jealousy isn’t a good look on you, you know.”

“I don’t know about that one,” he gives you a shrug, then pulls you closer to him by your hand. “It helped me get to fuck you again didn’t it?”

You snort, “That’s your takeaway from all of this?”

He’s about to say something cocky, you know it, but he’s interrupted by a pounding at the door. 

“Are you two done fucking in there so we can get back to our dance practice?!” Haechan shouts and you hear utters from the others telling him to shut up. Renjun groans a series of curses as his friend’s voice starts complaining. 

“Give me a second will you?!” He yells back. 

“Seriously how long does it take to have makeup sex?”

“Shut it, Haechan!”

You can’t help the laughter and amusement in your expression as Renjun turns from the door to face you. 

“Is that what this was? Makeup sex?” You ask.

This time when he pulls your arm into him he wraps his hand around your waist, hovering right before your lips. “You know it was. How many more times do I need to tell you I’ve missed you for you to realize you’ll always be my girl?”

“Hmmm, maybe a couple more times.” You tease, and then your words soon morph into giggles as he nuzzles against your neck, right where he knows you're ticklish.

“Then I fucking miss you. A lot.”

[corroded-hellfire]

Prompt Day 15: Let's Talk About That

Word Count: 1000

Rating: T

Pairing: Eddie x Reader

CW: Langauge

Summary: Modern AU - Corroded Coffin hosts a live stream and fans notice you walk through the background

@corrodedcoffinfest

“Nooooo,” you whine, fingers digging into Eddie’s t-shirt to try and pull him closer to you. 

“Babe, I have to,” Eddie says through a laugh. But he does give you one last quick kiss. “I’ll come back when the live stream is over, okay?”

“Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll just be waiting here. On your bed. All alone.”

Eddie chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead. You playfully tug on one of the strands of hair framing his face since the rest is tucked up in a bun.

“You could get something to eat and read the script for the movie your agent got you an audition for.”

“As long as you promise to come back with cuddles and kisses,” you say with a pout.

“Always.” He presses one last kiss to the side of your head before walking toward the door. “We’ll be in the garage.”

“Have fun.”

Eddie joins the rest of the band in the garage, which half of has been made into a studio. Jeff’s leaning on a desk, tapping at his phone when Eddie hears him groan.

“What’s up?” Eddie asks.

“I can’t get this damn thing to work. Keeps saying it can’t load Instagram. Is the site just down?” Jeff looks over his shoulder at the guys.

“Here, lemme see it,” Gareth says, holding his hand out. Jeff gives it over and the youngest member of the band starts trying to get the app to work. “I think it’s just the WiFi in the garage. It’s shitty in here some days.”

“Where else should we do it?” Jeff asks, pushing himself out of the chair.

“Kitchen?” Frank offers. “We can sit on the barstools at the counter.”

“Excellent idea, my friend,” Eddie says, nodding his head in Frank’s direction. 

Jeff grabs the tripod and the four guys head back into the house. 

Eddie pops the phone into the holder and switches the ring light on.

“Okay, let’s go,” Jeff says as he slips onto one of the stools. “We said we’d start this stream at two and we’re cutting it close.”

The rest of the guys pull their seats in as close as possible while Jeff pulls up Corroded Coffin’s Instagram page and starts up a live video.

“Hey!” Jeff greets. “We’re here.”

“After a few issues,” Gareth adds.

“There’s only one week left before our new album drops,” Jeff continues. “Anyone pre-order it yet?”

A stream of comments starts pouring in faster than any of the guys can read them.

“Whoa, seems like a lot of you have,” Eddie says as he scans them quickly. 

“Oh my God,” Gareth says with a laugh. He points to a comment, but it goes too fast before the others can see it. “Someone said, ‘Eddie’s bun is giving sexy librarian.’”

All eyes turn to Eddie and, instantly, all four friends crack up. 

“Holy shit, I’d hate to go to that library,” Frank says as the laughter only gets louder.

The guys are making too much noise to hear Eddie’s bedroom door open, but the sound of their laughter instantly makes you smile as you walk to the bathroom at the other end of the hall. 

“Oh, that was good,” Gareth says, wiping beneath his eyes to get rid of tears that overflowed. 

“Okay,” Jeff says as he catches his breath. “Any questions about the album now?”

His eyes look down to where the messages come in at a mile a minute, but it seems like none of them are talking about the album anymore. Or Eddie’s hair. Now they’re talking about a certain actress they saw walk by in the background of the video.

Was that her?!

Omg what is she doing there

AHHH IS SHE DATING ONE OF THEM?!?!

Eddie feels his muscles tighten as he sees the comments going by. He likes to keep his personal life private. This is no one’s fault though; he told you they were going to be in the garage, not in the house. And what, were you not allowed to go to the bathroom in your boyfriend’s home? No, this was just all one big accident that is now going to lead to speculation and rumors. 

“Oh, uh, good question,” Gareth says when one about the album pops up. All four guys have had enough PR training to know they don’t acknowledge the unexpected topic. “We wrote most of these songs for the album, yes, but some are songs that we wrote years ago that just haven’t been released yet.”

Once the live stream ends, Eddie heads back into his room where you’re lounging on his bed, on your phone. 

You let it fall to your chest when you see your boyfriend and open your arms for him. 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Eddie’s laying down beside you, the two of you wrapped up in one another’s arms. 

“How was the stream?” 

Your boyfriend chuckles and drops his forehead against yours. 

“I can probably find it on the internet already…” He picks your phone up and opens google. A search for news about Corroded Coffin yields the expected result. Eddie chuckles and turns the phone so you can see. “Here.”

Corroded Coffin Star Dating Award Winning Actress? But Which Band Member Is It?!

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen as you click on the article. It’s not long before your eyes catch, “…was seen walking in the background of their latest live stream…”

“Oh my God! No! Eddie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize that—”

“It’s okay, baby.” Eddie’s grinning as he hugs you even tighter against him. “Honestly, I’m curious for the articles to come out, guessing which one of us you’re with.”

“There’s going to be ones saying I’m dating all of you at the same time, aren't there?” 

Eddie laughs and presses his lips to your forehead.

“Probably. But you’re stuck with me, baby. The sexy librarian and the sexy actress.”

You stare at Eddie, laughter slowly creeping in on your utter confusion.

“What?!”

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Being Team Japan’s Manager:

Miss Manager gets her Period

Team Japan x female reader (she/her pronouns)

Warnings: period talk, swearing, blood mentioned, period symptoms (cramps, vomiting, bloating, etc)

A/N: I need comfort right now, feel free to ignore

Honestly you should have seen the warning signs YN

But somehow you missed the notification from your period tracking app

You missed the sighs of being extremely tired, moody and just down right agitated

You cried for no reason the other day and it still didn’t register

I mean, it’s not like you are busy or anything

You are the team manager for Team Japan after all

Probably the one of the worlds most dangerous jobs

But also super rewarding 😌

You’ve been the teams manager for a few months now

And you’ve definitely had your period before during practice

But this, this was completely different

You see, never has your period fully started right in the middle of practice

And certainly not with this much vigor 😬

Let’s just say, you aren’t on birth control at all

But you also never really needed it

Because as shitty as birth control can be sometimes, it can be very helpful

Anyways, it was a normal Friday morning and you woke up feeling… off

Like just blah

Honestly you didn’t think much of it because the Olympics were a month away

Which meant that the boys were on edge

Practices were lasting hours and downtime was limited

Not to mention you were dealing with more Bokuto Emo modes than normal and more tantrums from Atsumu and Kageyama

Basically the fatigue and blah feeling wasn’t unwarranted

You checked the mirror, noticing you had a small acne flare up on your jaw

You sighed, putting some coverup on it before heading out

On your way to the gym, you stopped to grab you and the coaches coffee

A typically Friday routine you had developed

Walking into the gym, the sound of volleyballs hit your ears

As well as the agitating, grating voices of those hitting said volleyballs 😒

You barely hit the door when it starts

“YNS HERE!!” Hinata screams

“YN please tell me you finished the laundry yesterday, we ran out of fresh towels and I only have 5 stashed away!”Sakusa chimes in

“YN please help tape my fingers,” Hakuba adds

“YN you promised you’d measure our jump heights today too! I have to show Hinata that I can get higher!” Hoshiumi shouts

“YN do you have that extra nail files? I left my kit at home,” Kageyama says

“YN I need you to toss for me because these other idiots can’t do it like you do!” Atsumu whines

Literally it’s like walking into a daycare but with giant volleyball players 😅

“Guys give me like 5 minutes please!” You shout, walking over to the coaches and handing them their coffee before stomping to your office

“Is Yn ok?” Coach asks as the assistant coach shrugs

You just need a minute to breathe, that’s all you need

Too bad you work with people who don’t understand the idea of “needing a minute to breathe”

*knock knock*

You groan as your door open and Iwaizumi appears

Please, you don’t even want to see Iwa today

Damn YN you ok 👀

“Iwa what?” You say a little annoyed

“Damn, did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something? I just came to give you the training schedules,” Iwa said as you sighed and took them

“Sorry Iwa, I’m just feeling off I didn’t meant it,” you said as Iwa nodded

“It’s cool Yn but maybe drink that coffee or something to help?” He says as you sigh and sit down

You manage to drink approximately 1 sip before Aran is at your door

“YN hey! I was hoping we could go over some plays?” He said as you resigned yourself to the fact that today just isn’t your day

A few hours in, you get ready for the team meeting

Your walking through the gym when the first cramps hit

“Ohh ouch!” You whince as you grab your side

“YN, you good?” Komori asks, noticing immediately

“Yeah I think I’m fine,” you say

“You know Yn, when my tummy’s upset, I go to the brathroom and it helps a lot!” Hinata says as Kageyama rolls his eyes

“Hinata nobody knows more about the bathroom than you do!” He says as Hinata glares at him

“I’m sure I’m fine, it’s almost lunch anyways. I think I just need to eat,” you say

You grab your lunch, sitting with the few mature memebers of the team

The VERY FEW

Aran, Hyakuzawa, Iwaizumi, Komori, Yaku and occasionally Sakusa, if he’s not on one 🙄

Anyways, as your finishing lunch, you stand up and it happens

You rn 👉🏻🧍‍♀️😐😳

The fear in your eyes 😅 trust me YN, we’ve all been there

“Yn you good?” Aran asks as Iwa and Hyakuzawa look at you

“Umm I think my period just started,” you say

Now the fear in your eyes has transferred to their eyes 👁️👄👁️

Please Yn, nothing is off limits with these guys

They talk about bodily functions daily and some of them have sisters, so like they aren’t clueless to what a period is

Before they can even say anything you RUN to the bathroom, and sure enough

“Dammit!” You scream as everyone in a 20 mile radius hears you

“Uhhh Yn, you good?” Yaku asks, knocking on the door to the bathroom

“Yeah but uhh I don’t have a tampon, can you grab me one form my desk?” You asks as Bokuto runs to your office

At this point, they’ve all come to the bathroom hallway and it’s like a team effort to help you 😂

Team bonding if you will

“Crap there isn’t any in here!” Bokuto shouts as Atsumu runs to tell you

“Yn Bo said there isn’t any in your desk!”

“Shit, check my bag!” You scream

“Check her bag bo!” Hakuba shouts

“Nothing!” Bokuto shouts back

“Fuck!” You say, resigning yourself to the fact that you’ll definitely need to make a makeshift toilet paper pad

“YN do you want me to run to the corner store?” Hinata asks

“Would you please? I’m not really looking to make a toilet paper pad,” you said as Hinata nodded

“Wait what’s a ‘toilet paper pad’?” Atsumu asks

“YN send Hoshiumi a picture of the tampons you use and we will go!” Hinata shouts as Hoshiumi and him race out

“Is anyone gonna answer my question?” Atsumu says, annoyed

“Idiot she would have to shove toilet paper in her underwear to stop the bleeding until she got a tampon or pad!” Yaku says

“Omg this toilet paper is so course and had like zero absorbency!” Atsumu shouts

“I know Sumu!! That’s why that’s not ideal!” You say

“YN do you need pain relievers?” Iwa asks

“If you have some, the cramps are getting bad,” you say as Iwa runs to his office

He grabs a heating pack and some pain relievers

He comes back just as Hinata and Hoshiumi return

“Damn that was like 7 minutes impressive!” Komori says

Hinata and Hoshiumi 👉🏻💅💅

“Here Yn, we got them!” Hinata says passing the pads into the bathroom

You manage to get yourself sorted, leaving some pads in the bathroom as you exit

You come out of the bathroom and are greeted with a forest 🌳

“Uhh hey guys?” You say as Iwa hands you the heating pack and some pain relievers

“Are you ok YN?” Bokuto asks 🥺

You just laugh

“I’ll be fine guys, I deal with this every month but I’ll admit, I was a little surprised this time!” You said

“Ok well I think it’s time we get back to work,” Aran says

“I’m super hyped up right now!” Hinata says as him and Hoshiumi race back to the gym

“Is anyone surprised?” Iwa says

“I’m actually surprised they managed to handle the task of getting tampons for Yn,” Yaku interjects

“This isn’t Hinata’s first time dealing with this, he does have a little sister,” Kageyama added

“And Hoshi?” Hakuba says

“He probably just wanted to race Hinata,” you laugh

“Ok guys, let’s go! Yn go sit down and out that heating pad on!” Iwa orders

“Iwa I’m fine-” you argue

“YN I wouldn’t argue with Iwa if I were you,” Sakusa interjects

“Yeah he’s super scary when he gets mad!” Kageyama shivers

“WHAT DID I JUST SAY?!?” Iwa yells as you all stiffin

Aye aye captain 🫡

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Stede: :(

Ed: :(

Stede: this is awful.

Ed: this is SO bad Stede. It tastes like ass.

Stede: that's an insult to ass! I love eating ass!

Ed: hehe yeh you do :3

Stede: but this is BAD. It's really BAD Ed.

Ed: last time we ever try to buy tikka masala sauce mix from the dollar store I guess

Stede: we should've known something was wrong when it was asking us to add eggs. I'm pretty sure these directions weren't properly translated

Ed: but we've made our bed, and now we have to - bleeggh.

Stede: honey, eating it faster won't help

Stede: you know, you really don't have to eat any more. you can make yourself something else to eat

Ed: but...we made so much of this shit!

Stede: I can eat all of it, don't worry

Ed: :(

Ed: no babe I'm not gonna make you eat all of this alone! Bleeeargh.

Stede: PLEASE stop trying to shovel so much of it in your mouth at once, you're going to make yourself throw up!

Ed: :(

Stede: :(

Stede: hey Ed.

Ed: yeah :(

Stede: what if we just.

Stede: don't.

Ed: don't what

Stede: what if we just don't finish eating it.

Ed: but then it'll all go to waste!

Stede: well. maybe it should go to waste. on account of it tastes awful

Ed:

Stede:

Ed: are we allowed to do that. just waste money and food like that

Stede: well we're just torturing ourselves otherwise, right? this stuff tastes like. like. pussy asshole

Ed: never heard you complain about eating my pussy asshole before

Stede: I'm trying to say it tastes bad, Ed

Ed: yeah I know, I'm deflecting because the idea of not eating food that we made is freaking me out a bit

Stede:

Ed:

Ed: what if we. what if we threw this shit away. because its gross and we hate eating it. and we ordered pizza to make up for how bad it was

Stede, giggling: holy shiiit are we allowed to do this

Ed, also giggling: no one's gonna stop us! we can do whatever we want!

Stede: oh shit Ed. do you think my dad can see us right now.

Ed: what, from hell? I hope so. I hope he remembers all those times he made you sit at the table until you finished some awful food you hated and he's thinking 'awww damn if only I wasn't such an asshole'

Stede: maybe we should do this every day. make shitty food we hate and then get something better. just because we can

Ed: okay but maybe not, that sounds like a lot of hassle. we can do it tonight, though

Stede, pulling up the pizza delivery app: and you can eat dirt, you piece of shit. I'm talking to my dad, Ed

Ed: yeah. I figured

[fantrolloftheday]

GREETINGS AND SALUTATIONS TUMBLR

I (@nnugatoryextravagance) used to run a twitter account under the same name as this blog, but now I refuse to use that horrific bird app for the sake of my health, BUT also really missed doing this, So now here we are

There is technically speaking only one blog admin (Me, Sludge!) but I am the host of a multiple system, so others might post as well (we will use emojis to identify ourselves, mine is 💊) ((please be respectful, we will not engage with syscourse so dont bother))

[Also I know the name implies this is daily, but honestly dont hold your breath on that.]

ANYWAY YEAH onto the rules and other stuff

(keep reading)

Prepare necessary info about your Fantroll (Minimum info is at least Name, one SAFE FOR WORK photo, gender and/or pronouns [either one or both], caste, and sign)

Optional info is Age, Classpect, Lusus, Sign (if its not from the Extended Zodiac), and whatever else you'd like to add, (thanks to being freed from twitter's character limit, I encourage you to tell me as much as you want about them!)

Meme/Shitpost characters are totally okay! as long as they meet the minimum req above and are a troll I dont care! On the og account I literally posted an edit of the fucking Scout from tf2 as a Rustblood

We will OCCASIONALLY do little silly events that may change some of these rules, however wait for me to announce those dont just jump in early that'll get annoying

The admin(s) running this blog is/are bodily 16 years old, sending anything nsfw will be 100% ignored. [Characters from more mature source material ARE allowed however, but again, do not send directly send me images of said mature content]

If you did not make the character PLEEASE tell me where its from or who did make them. (on or off site I don't care), the whole reason I even started this originally was to share the work of others in this fandom I love to more people. Not telling me who made the character defeats the whole purpose [Similar applies if you include art of the character NOT drawn by you please just give credit to people I beg of you]

We understand that Homestuck as a whole is a very... Interesting series thats made VERY fucking poor choices, but any sort of intolerance or shitty behavior will NOT be tolerated here. We have Zero Affiliation with Hussie nor do we endorse their past behavior or very questionable writing decisions, any unfounded accusations of such towards me or anyone else over enjoying the comic will be thrown straight in the bin, blow me. (If there are any ACTUAL issues however, please respectfully send a pm about it, Random shit in the askbox will likely be either ignored or buried)

HOW TO SUBMIT

Ironically, I'm not doing this through tumblr's built in post submissions feature. But this is because I honestly still don't know how the damn thing works yet despite being on this site so long, So submissions will be taken through our inbox or PMs.

(Not to sound rude but I'd really much prefer to not be forced to message back about needing more info, PLEASE PLEASE include it the first time around or it'll take so much longer for yours to be posted (if at all) because I have a very hard time talking to internet strangers due to reasons I'm not obligated to tell you)

[Bear in mind though Anon is currently OFF, although this may change eventually]

[mrvdocks]

Streets

His phone pinged with another comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: You should fuck her.

Kurt had to do a double take. Surely there was no way Bobby had just asked him to make a whole sex tape.

There were other ways to become famous, Kurt thought.

But he was desperate. And Bobby needed content.

Warning: some choking, sexual encounter

As if this day couldn’t get any worse.

You knew if you were late to work one more time you would be fired and then you wouldn’t be able to make rent this week, and then the crippling feeling of adulting and being a massive failure would hit you during a 3 am binge of cheap wine. You’d already promised your roommate you’d pay them back but it just seemed like a shitty week.

Your car wouldn’t start, unsurprisingly, since it had been making all sorts of noises the day before. Add it to the list of things you’d have to inevitably pay for.

You sighed, bringing your phone out and going through the apps. Lyft? Too expensive right now. Uber? Too many creeps. Spree? It was some new rideshare app you never really paid attention to until now. But the sweet sweet price of a trip from your home to work was unmistakable.

You eagerly awaited your chariot to hell, eyes glued on the screen to the driver’s name. Kurt.

He’s there almost instantly, and you have to make the connection between driver and image just in case. You can never be too careful.

“Kurt?” You ask, bending to meet him at eye level from the outside.

A notification bar from the top of your screen indicates that your card was declined and so the Spree ride was canceled. Kurt’s name disappears from your phone. You grimace, looking back to him.

“You know what? It just canceled. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I’ll get some other people today. No need to worry about it.”

You raise a brow. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure there’s someone else who needs you right now.”

Oh but I do need you. He thinks.

He gives you a smile and waves your concern away. “Hop in! Don’t worry about it.”

In his head, he thinks this might work, no trail at all. No having to break into your phone and text or call someone about your whereabouts.

You hop in the backseat, finding solace in the silence for a few moments before Kurt turns to talk to you.

“Going deep huh?”

“Sorry?”

“I meant, you know, you were going to Vine and Hollywood. Must know some big people.”

You laugh nervously, most drivers wouldn’t make small talk with you sometimes. But that would stem from you not wanting to talk to them as much. Better to keep at your own business.

“Uh yeah I guess. Even if some of them are assholes sometimes.” You chuckle.

“You know anyone personally? Maybe you could get the word out for me. Have them tag me. My handle’s KurtsWorld96.”

You chuckled to yourself. This was Los Angeles after all, particularly Hollywood. Land of people who want to be a star by any means necessary.

“Yeah sure, I’ll bring it up sometime,” you say, bringing your attention back onto your phone to pass the time.

Before you can get a look into what’s new on your timeline you notice there are cameras everywhere in the car. One facing you, one in the back, two on opposite sides of Kurt and one next to you on the other seat. Oh geez.

Have you landed into a wrong ride share service? Was this a couch situation?

Kurt must’ve noticed your silent panic as he glanced at the mirror and pointed to his cameras.

“For safety.” He assured.

You nod understandingly.

You flip back to your phone, more aware of being filmed. You have to wonder if this footage were to get out if your employers will notice you called them assholes.

Kurt glances at his phone, seeing Bobby comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: This is boring.

BobbyBaseCamp: You have to do something WTF worthy!!

Kurt rolls his eyes. Though, he knew Bobby was right in some way. If he was gonna get anywhere with this live stream and get #TheLesson out there, he’d have to do something bigger than he had planned.

You’d been nothing but pleasant to him so far, and he’d been keeping an eye out on those waters that sat a mere few inches away from you.

His phone pinged with another comment.

BobbyBaseCamp: You should fuck her.

Kurt had to do a double-take. Surely there was no way Bobby had just asked him to make a whole sex tape.

There were other ways to become famous, Kurt thought.

But he was desperate. And Bobby needed content.

It didn’t hurt that you were attractive. And while it would’ve been a shame to kill you to further his agenda, for some reason he had to try to talk himself out of it. Maybe you had a boyfriend. Maybe he wasn’t your type. Maybe you’d freak.

Bobby’s insults swirled in his head and in the comment section.

Fuck it.

Kurt swerved into an abandoned parking garage, hidden from view. Either thing he had planned today could work here, he just didn’t know it would be something else entirely.

He gets out of the car, and you finally snap from your phone daze to notice you’re not where you’re supposed to be. If anything you were somewhat still far from work.

Your eyes meet Kurt’s own as he opens the door to your side. You’re visibly confused but nonetheless move backward which lets him lean into the back and close enough to you to hover over. 

It doesn’t even register that he’s kissing you until you relax under him, hands coming up to his sweatshirt. You don’t push him away yet, but revel in how he slides in between your legs awkwardly and closes the door behind him.

It had been a while, and while you weren’t complaining, you didn’t really know Kurt all that well.

Pulling back to get some air, you have to ask. “You don’t have like anything right?”

You don’t think he gets it until he responds that he’s never really done this.

One night stands were reserved for nights, right? Not abandoned parking garages in Old Hollywood territory during daylight.

“I’m sorry. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” He sighs, pulling back.

You don’t really know what to say. He wasn’t so bad looking. His appearance wasn’t too presenting. His hair wasn’t styled or cut, a little greasy maybe but he seemed sweet at first glance. Albeit a little socially awkward and persistent with his social following.

You answer him by lifting the ends of his sweatshirt up and over his head. He catches your drift and helps you, his tee going right after as your hands come down to his jeans. You pop the buttons, somewhat eager to unzip this complete stranger.

Kurt is faster, his fingers coming up to his mouth to lubricate. It’s the small things he’s trying to remember from porn.

Before you can get his pants down, his left-hand slides over your stomach and down into your own pants. You buck against his hand instantly, the feeling taking you by surprise and earning him a moan. You prop yourself up by your elbows and buck again, feeling his knuckle graze your most sensitive area.

He’s so focused on being able to sell this and you’re so entranced that you don’t notice when his other hand makes quick work under your bra. He squeezes lightly, thumb circling your nub. His other hand just pumping in and out of you painfully slow.

The oh so good feeling has you rolling back onto your back and moving closer to him to get the most out of his slender fingers.

The pornstar worthy moans make him smirk.

“Kurt,” you manage out, guiding him closer in between your legs and trying to get your damn jeans off.

He obliges, pulling your shirt up and over and letting it settle in the passenger seat where his camera was.

He’s quick at pulling your jeans and panties off, letting them fall somewhere in the pile. He dives back into you, legs fully spread, and locking him in. With one hand under the dip of your back and the other grasping onto your thigh roughly, he thrusts himself in, a deep grunt erupting from his chest.

He lets his head fall to the crook of your neck, muttering to himself. The feeling of you being so wet and tight makes his body go out of control. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced.

You whine as he pulls out, your arms coming up to wrap onto his torso and bring him as close as you can manage. It doesn’t feel fair, having you be naked all the way and him just halfway there but it doesn’t matter at this point.

He thrusts back in with abandon. Grunts, moans, and heavy breaths from both of you filling the car. He pulls your left leg up to his waist, angling himself close to where when he thrusts in again and again you clutch and scratch onto his back harder than before.

Your back arches with each hard and rough thrust he gives you, your legs close in on his lower back, trying to get as much of him as you can in you greedily.

He bottoms out, capturing your lips in a sloppy kiss, the action only intensifying what you were feeling tenfold. His lips leave yours and peck at your neck, collarbone, and breasts.

There was no way he was going to last long now. The feeling of you rocking and bucking to match his thrusts was euphoric and enough to make him come any second.

“Choke me.” You say breathlessly in between thrusts.

“What?” He’s out of breath as well and your request takes him by surprise but he complies and brings the hand that held your thigh to your throat. He presses his fingers down hard.

“Harder.”

Your hand reaches up to grasp his wrist as he grips your throat tighter than before. You smile in content, your eyes closing to revel at the moment.

Somehow the position of being in total control and having the opportunity to put you in some danger stimulated him even more. It fulfilled some primal desire in him.

If he couldn’t kill you, he’d have more fun edging himself.

“Don’t stop, oh god please,” you mewled, on the very cusp of release.

His fingers slipped back down in between your bodies, rubbing at you until you felt your eyes roll back.

Kurt felt close as you clenched around him. His thrusts became sloppy, the sound of skin against skin dying down. He let his head fall again, biting down onto your shoulder somewhat gently as his orgasm wracked through his body. The groan coming from him sent waves through your body and only added to your ecstasy.

But you weren’t done yet, lifting yourself and flipping the both of you over. Once you had him lying where you were, you rode out your high, grinding until you were nearly crying out from the overstimulation. The sight of him lost in pleasure, crying out and brows furrowed was a sight you knew you wouldn’t forget.

Your orgasm leaves you shaking like never before. You collapse on top of him soon after, satisfied. You almost would’ve initiated another round but instead reached for your discarded phone on the floor.

The time nearly made you jump out of the car naked, you were five minutes late.

“Shit!” You jumped, lifting yourself up and letting his cock fall back against his lower belly. “I’m late.”

As though he too was alarmed and more aware of what he just did, he sat up and you both rushed to get your clothes back on. He glanced at his phone, seeing the notifications from Bobby blowing up one after the other.

He might have to ask Bobby not to release this.

“I got it,” Kurt said, returning to the driver’s seat in a second and turning the car back on.

You fixed yourself up again, trying not to look like you just had sweaty spontaneous sex with your driver like some kind of tacky porno. All eyes would be on you.

Kurt drove like a madman and braked hard as he parked right outside the building of where you worked.

You gathered your things and rushed out of the car before turning back to bend to Kurt’s window again. “Do you have a pen?”

Kurt passed you one but instead of writing on paper, you used it to write your name and number on his hand.

Were you really giving this guy your information? He wasn’t such a bad lay, to be honest.

Feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks you smiled, “Maybe you can come over or something.”

Clearly flustered but still appreciative, he smiled back that innocent charming smile.

With that, you headed into work running and trying to come up with an excuse. Completely unaware of what was about to go down that day. Oblivious to the truth about your new crush until you went onto social media later on.

[softer-ua]

Head canon that Kacchan, after his pride stops pushing Deku away, comes to the amazing realization that Dekus a walking ASMR machine and the perfect distraction from his chronic tinnitus.

Tinnitus is a persistent ringing or buzzing in your ear/s and is often the result of hear damage caused by loud noises, there’s no real cure or treatment but many people find background noise like music, tv, or a white noise machine beneficial in distracting them from the sound and giving them some relief.

Dekus may mumble but each word is always clearly and fully pronounced, and I think once he learns to trust that people are not only willing but wanting to listen to what he’s got to say he’ll stop rushing to get everything out like his words are coke and mentos. Instead he’d have a steady rhythm when he speaks, and a slow almost melody just for kacchan, but his mind will never be any less full. It’s the perfect combo, someone who needs to fill the silence and someone who needs the silence filled

Comfort Winter Fic🥦💥

________________________

Katsuki isn’t a fan of the winter. Not only does the cold make his job harder but it makes his days off harder too.

It the first heavy snow of the season, muffling the usual city noise, it’s too cold and too quiet in this shitty apartment.

Dekus not home yet and he won’t be for several more hours, Katsuki should be enjoying one of the few days he has to himself and maybe planning dinner if he feels generous, but he simply can’t when his body’s betraying him like this.

Theres a constant high pitched ringing in his ears that he’s learned to live with but when everything else goes quiet like this.… this kind of silence acts like an amplifier and it makes his skull throb in time to his heartbeat.

He’s got all the lights off and has concooned himself in a big ass quilt on their couch. He even got that stupid white noise machine that Deku gave him last Christmas going but he can still hear the ringing above it. He’s actually not sure if the shitty thing is helping or hurting, like his brains trying to drown out both and can’t. He hates this, he feels weak, like a failure sitting here in the dark fighting back tears all because of a headache with an attitude. He knows crying adds pressure and makes it worse but he can’t stop it. He’s exhausted and hurting, and all he wants is to fall asleep in their stupid, too quiet, dark ass, lonely apartment and wake up when Deku gets home and makes it stop being all those things. But he can’t and he hates it

Katsuki lays there for what feels like an eternity, when he feels a cold hand thumb away a tear. Blearily he opens his eyes to see Deku floating next to him, familiar green warmed by the glow of their electric fire he hadn’t noticed Deku turn on. And for a moment there’s a break in the ringing as his focus narrows down to the sound of Dekus heavy breathing from the strain of controlling Float. He can’t help the sniffle that leaves him, the level of love and understanding that shines in shades of green never fails to floor him.

Deku, having noticed how dark and quiet their home was when he walked through the door enacted float. He knows how Kacchan likes to try and nap away these snow storms, so he tried his best to be quiet as he went about taking off his winter gear. Then noticing the lump of quilt on the couch and lack of kitchen activity he decided to put in an order with their favorite diners app. Then he summersualted through the air over the couch and turned the fire on to warm it up a bit more in here. He turned around to admire his cozy bf and considered leaving him on the couch or carrying him to their bed.

Bending down he got a good look at Kacchan to figure out how deeply asleep he was before doing anything to disturb him. But now that he was closer and it wasn’t so dark he could see tear tracks glistening on his Kacchans cheeks. That’s when he noticed the white noise machine was going, and he felt his heart squeeze.

He hated that he couldn’t make that damn ringing go away, he had no idea how Kacchan stayed so strong and focused in everything he did while fighting something like this every minute of everyday. Unless he was in a hyper focus a microwave beep coil completely ruin any focus he had. Without thinking he reached out to rub one of the still falling tears away.

Ruby eyes blinked open at him, bringing a natural irreplaceable smile to Dekus face. Even in exhausted and in pain there was a clear fierceness smoldering in crimson depths that never failed to set Deku soul on fire.

Then Kacchan sniffled and Dekus body moved on its own, dropping down on the couch just behind Kacchan and pulled him and his blanket caccoon into his lap. He placed a kiss on his forehead and began subtly rocking them as he hummed contentedly. He felt more than heard Kacchan release a small sob. Deku held him a little tighter and tells him what he orders for dinner, Kacchan clings to him and burrows his face into his chest. So Deku begins whispering a long tangent about everything and anything that happened to him that day.

He keeps going until he can feel Kacchan fully relax into him. Then he gives his explosive bf’s temple another kiss and asks if he wants to him to keep going or if there’s anything else he can do for him.

“Just fnish your story, Nerd.”

[prouvaireafterdark]

Wrong Place, Right Time

For the @malexremix, I remixed @insidious-intent’s excellent frat bro Michael fic! Fair warning, though: it’s rule 63

Also on AO3!

***

Fuck this fucking planet, Guerin thinks as she shivers in the icy December chill, leaning heavily against the cold metal of the bus stop shelter. The minutes drag by slow as molasses as she waits for the shuttle that was supposed to take her home almost half an hour ago.  

Ugh. This is the goddamn last time she tries to do the responsible thing and doesn’t take her truck when she’s heading to the bar. Now, with her patience and her alcohol blanket wearing thin, she’s never been more disappointed that her alien powers don’t include flight or teleportation. 

With a beleaguered sigh, she takes her phone out of her pocket and pulls up the bus schedule. The tips of her fingers grow numb with the cold as she waits for the piece of shit app to load, and when it finally does she’s met with a red banner that reads, Late night buses cancelled due to icy conditions.

“God fucking damn it,” she groans, throwing her head backward in frustration so forcefully that her skull smacks against the hard metal bus shelter. “Ow, fuck,” she winces, the pain flaring up instantly. She reaches up to rub the tender spot with her cold fingertips, wishing she had a bottle of acetone at her disposal.

It’s the thought of acetone that reminds her of Isobel and, more importantly, Isobel’s car, which is undoubtedly sitting in the lot outside her sorority house not too far from here. She’ll mock her mercilessly for it, but she probably won’t say no to letting Guerin borrow it if she promises to buy her bubble tea when she brings it back. 

Without a better idea, Guerin pushes off the bus shelter and starts walking, head downcast as her numb fingers type out a text to Isobel. 

She heads a few blocks down Sorority Row, eyes scanning the houses for those familiar Greek letters. When she finally spots them, she recognizes Isobel’s handiwork immediately in the tasteful Christmas decorations adorning the house’s brightly lit facade. Garlands encircle the tall white columns that line the porch and each and every window is framed with pale yellow lights, a festive wreath in its center. 

She also notices, much to her chagrin, that there appears to be some kind of party going on inside. Muffled music seeps through the walls and she can see people mingling inside through the large windows in the front of the house. 

Guerin checks her phone one last time, but Isobel’s read receipts tell her she hasn’t even seen the message yet. Looks like she’s going to have to go inside and find her. 

She looks down at her jeans and fleece-lined jacket, both threadbare and thrifted, and briefly considers some light carjacking, but in the end, she decides against it—as annoyed as Isobel will be with her for showing up to a party at her sorority dressed like this, it’ll be much worse if she wakes up to find her car missing. 

Sighing deeply, Guerin turns down the red brick path to the porch and makes her way to the front door.

One fist is poised to knock, the other buried deep in the pocket of her jacket, when an unexpected voice comes from her left.

“You lost?” the voice says. 

Guerin’s curls whip through the air as she turns to see Alex Manes, the very talented, very hot musician who sometimes plays at the undergrad cafe Guerin works at on the weekend, sitting in one of the rocking chairs on the porch. How she missed her sitting there is anyone’s guess, but now that she has the opportunity to look at her she isn’t going to waste it.

In the glow of the Christmas lights, she can see Alex is wearing heavy black combat boots and the tightest skinny jeans she’s ever seen with a thick knit maroon cardigan drawn closed across her chest. Her dark eyes are lined in black, as always, and in her lap is a battered moleskin notebook with a pencil caught between its pages.

“Nope,” Guerin answers, smiling as she turns more fully in Alex’s direction and takes a step closer. “I’m looking for Isobel.”

“Really?” Alex asks, head cocked to the side in confusion. “Why?” 

It’s a fair question, Guerin supposes. Isobel doesn’t exactly broadcast that their campus’ resident bisexual stoner is also kind of her sister.

“The buses stopped running apparently so I need to borrow her car,” Guerin explains.

Alex barks a laugh, a bright sound that makes the pit of Guerin’s stomach warm in spite of her. “Good luck with that.”

Guerin smiles good naturedly, but doesn’t head back to the door just yet. As cold as it is, she’d rather see if she can make Alex laugh again.

“I’m Guerin, by the way,” she introduces herself as she sits down in one of the rocking chairs next to her.

“Alex,” she says unnecessarily. “And I know who you are,” she continues, the corner of her mouth pulling up into a smile. “You work at Bean Me Up, right?”

“I do,” Guerin says, face brightening. They smile at each other for a moment, neither one really sure where to pick up the thread of conversation before Guerin asks, “So, what are you doing out here by yourself?”

“Oh, uh, wine mixers aren’t really my thing,” Alex answers, gesturing over her shoulder to the party inside.

“A sorority girl who doesn’t want to party?” Guerin asks, equal parts amused and confused. “I think you maybe joined the wrong crowd.”

“Tell me something I don’t know,” Alex sighs.

That brings Guerin up short. Sure, she’d been surprised to hear that Alex was in Isobel’s sorority—her emo aesthetic doesn’t exactly match the sorority girl stereotype that lives in Guerin’s brain—but she figured she at least enjoyed being a part of it.

“Do you really not like it here?” she asks.

Alex shrugs noncommittally. 

Guerin frowns. “Why not leave then?”

Alex is quiet so long Guerin wonders if she’s crossed a line, but eventually she gets an answer.

“My mom’s a legacy and kind of an asshole, so,” she says, as if that explains everything, and then adds, “If joining Greek Life is what it takes for her to keep paying my tuition, I guess this is where I’ll be.”

That is something Guerin can understand. If her scholarship relied on participation in Greek Life, she sure as hell would’ve pledged too. 

“Mm, gotcha,” she says with an understanding nod. “That sucks, though. I mean, we’re in college, right? Isn’t now the time we’re supposed to spend doing whatever we want?”

Alex raises her glass—a pink solo cup that’s been resting on the small table next to her—in agreement.

Silence stretches between them for a long few seconds. She should probably head inside to find Isobel now, but Alex is beautiful and talking to her and she just can’t quite bring herself to walk away.

“So, are you working on a new song?” she asks eventually, looking down at the notebook in Alex’s lap.

“Trying to,” Alex admits, her cheeks flushing just a little. 

“What’s it about?”

Alex bites her lip for a second before she answers.

They talk about the song, and music in general, for so long that Guerin forgets about Isobel entirely. It isn’t until Alex brings her up that she remembers.

“Oh, shit, don’t you need to find Isobel?” Alex asks, breaking off in the middle of her story about the My Chemical Romance concert she went to when she was thirteen.

“It can wait,” Guerin shrugs.

“In that case, you want a drink or something?” she offers, looking over her shoulder and through the window into the house.

Guerin thinks about it before she answers, “Wine mixers aren’t really my thing either, but I wouldn’t say no if you’ve got something stronger.”

Alex gives her a considering look before she says, “Alright then,” getting up from her chair. “Follow me.”

As she heads for the front door, Guerin follows close behind.

She’s a little surprised to be led straight up the stairs to Alex’s bedroom, but she isn’t about to complain about it.

“You can take your jacket off and sit on my bed if you want,” Alex says as she lets her inside. 

Guerin unzips her jacket and lays it over the back of the chair by Alex’s desk before she kicks off her boots and climbs onto her bed. She sits with her back against the wall, legs crossed at the ankles as she watches Alex rifle through the top drawer of her nightstand. 

She comes back a minute later holding a clear plastic baggie with a rolled joint and a shitty bic lighter inside. She tosses it on the bed beside Guerin’s thigh.

Guerin has it out of the bag before Alex can get her boots off and climb onto the bed, but she waits until she’s sitting next to her, too close to be an accident, to light it.  

 With one end between Alex’s lips, Guerin lights the other. She watches Alex take a long drag off the joint, watches the smoke curl around her mouth as she exhales. Her lips look so soft and pink and—Jesus fucking Christ, Guerin has never wanted to kiss someone so badly in her life.

It must show on her face because after a calculating look Alex takes another drag and holds the smoke in her lungs as she leans in close enough to kiss her. Guerin gets the picture and follows suit, her eyes slipping closed, lips parted and waiting. 

She inhales as Alex gently blows the smoke into her open mouth, their lips touching for a brief and charged moment. She holds it in her lungs for a minute before releasing it into the air between them. When her eyes flutter open, she’s as pleased as she is unsurprised to see Alex staring blatantly at her mouth. 

Without letting her eyes drift, Guerin takes the joint from Alex’s fingers and brings it to her mouth, sucking the smoke into her lungs once more. When she leans in to return the favor, she can’t resist flicking out her tongue to taste her bottom lip.

Alex moans softly against her mouth, the sweetest sound she’s ever heard, and the next thing she knows Alex is climbing in her lap.

Guerin lets out a shuddering breath against her mouth, the warmth of Alex’s thighs around her waist as intoxicating as the smoke burning her lungs and the lust rushing through her veins. It’s by a stroke of luck more than anything else that she doesn’t drop the joint onto Alex’s comforter and set her fucking bed on fire in her haste to get her hands on her hips.

Gentle fingers reach for Guerin’s hand then, taking the joint back from between her fingers. 

“What are you doing?” Guerin asks against her lips as Alex settles her weight on top of her. 

She feels it when Alex smiles against her mouth.

“Whatever I want,” she answers cheekily.

“Fair enough,” Guerin smiles back, and as she leans in to press their lips together for real this time, she can’t help but think that maybe leaving her truck at home wasn’t the worst idea she’s ever had after all.

[reinhartiisms]

@sprousec

Cole: had just washed his hands and was beginning to knead the pasta dough that he'd just made. Well he'd made it earlier in the day and it had been resting while he and Lili went out shopping. "What kind of sauce do you feel like? I can make spaghetti, carbonara, alfredo? Any requests?" He asked Lili, getting out the pasta maker from the cupboard and beginning to turn the dough through it. The living room almost looked like a bomb had gone off in it with all the baby items they'd bought during their shopping trip and with that it really made it feel real that they were going to be having a child in just a few months. The onesies and clothing was tiny and they could add it to the tiny bunny that he and Lili had brought at christmas time. "Do you want something to drink?" He asked Lili.

Lili was busy putting away the bags her and Cole had collected over a long day of shopping when she heard Cole's question. "I'm not really in the mood for a specific noodle or sauce," she smiled at him. "Surprise me." She was too focused on trying to notate down what all they had and what all they still needed to get. It was funny how with all these bags, it looked like they had everything they needed but Lili knew they hadn't even scratched at the surface. Babies needed a lot. "Wine," she answered him wryly but let out a wistful sigh. Wine. God, she missed wine and she wasn't even a big drinker. "Water is fine." Closing her Notes app on her phone, Lili straightened up and made her way into the kitchen to join them. "Is there anything I can do to help?" She asked, swinging her legs over the counter and sitting up on the top.

Cole: "Ooh fun, I could go really out there then" He probably wouldn't though. Lili was a bit of a pickier eater and he wanted to make something that she would actually want to eat, especially since she was pregnant and he knew she needed to keep her calories up, although not by too much. Once the pasta was finished and into nice long lengths of spaghetti, Cole put it into the bubbling water so it could cook. He pulled the ingredients out of the fridge for pesto sauce and began making that. It wouldn't take too long and hopefully Lili would like it. It had parmesan in it and you couldn't really go wrong with cheese. He looked up when Lili answered his next question and Cole gave her a smile, pushing a glass of water towards her. "You can probably have non alcoholic wines, we should try some one day if you want"

Lili wrinkled her nose and gave Cole a pout. "Oh please, there's no point of wine if it's non-alcoholic. That's like sugar free candy or dairy free ice cream. It's a crime." She picked up the glass and sipped from it, watching as he cooked. With the sleeves of his shirt rolled up and his dark hair all frizzy from the heat of the kitchen, he was painting an attractive picture. It was pretty unfair. Lili squeezed her legs together at the thought and took a more vigorous swig of water. Damn baby hormones. If she wasn't crying while reading sad poems, she was getting all hot and bothered about her very unavailable ex. "So seriously, nothing I can do to help?" Lili asked, needing a distraction. "No stirrer needed? Cheese grater? Pepper shaker?"

Cole: "I mean, it'll still taste the same, it's just not got the same effects. But I get what you mean" Cole told her. She was right. It was sort of pointless, especially since most people liked the buzz they got form alcohol. Once the pasta was cooked, Cole put it to drain in the sink and then got out two bowls, the sauce was ready and he was just going to add the two of them together. "Nope, i'm all done" he answered, putting a bowl in front of the two seats at the island and then offering Lili a hand so she could get down and they could sit next to one another and eat dinner together. "What do you think?" He asked, starting on his own bowl of pasta.

Lili "Ah, once again, I am useless," Lili joked and took Cole's hand as he helped her off the counter. The dinner smelled delicious, as always. Before she could sit down, she poured herself some water and then grabbed some bread that Cole still had saved from a previous grocery store venture. It may not have been freshly baked, hot out of the oven in Italy but it'd pair nicely with the pasta. She dipped her bread in the sauce and took a bite, nodding her head. "Delicious, as always. I really need to up my cooking game." Lili had gotten a lot better over the years but she didn't get too experimental in the kitchen and tended to stick with safe dishes. "Thanks for cooking for me," she gave him a smile. "Otherwise I would've eaten something really shitty from Postmates and felt awful afterwards."

Cole: "Oh stop it, you are not. I just didn't have anything for you to do is all" Lili most definitely wasn't useless. Cole just often didn't need too much help. Pasta was easy to make and it didn't take long to cook so there really hadn't been much for anyone to do. "Welcome. It's pretty easy and most food isn't hard, you just have to be ready to fail the first few times you make a dish until you get it right" Pasta was really the only thing that Cole was super good at cooking, everything else was a bit of a gamble on whether or not it would turn out right. "Well I'm glad you stayed for dinner then. Although postmates isn't too bad, I don't think. Depending on what you get"

Lili "I don't typically get healthy food." Lili was doing a lot better eating wise when it came to being pregnant, but it was hard to avoid fries and milkshakes when they were so readily available to you. Her biggest craving lately had been chicken wings washed down with some orange soda and that wasn't exactly what the doctor recommended. She twirled some pasta around her fork and after taking a big bite of it, swallowed with her water. "Maybe you can teach me some," she asked Cole, taking another bite. "You won't always be here to cook for Brooklyn and I'd like to give her some of Dad's favorites when it's my night to have her."

Cole: Cole just continued eating his pasta as Lili spoke. At least she was aware she wasn't eating the best food and it probably wasn't enough to really do anything. "Yeah? I could definitely do that. It's really easy so i'm sure you'd have no trouble making them" Cole had learnt most of his pasta making skills from his dad who made the best pasta Cole had ever had. His Dad had learnt in Italy when he'd lived there before Cole was born so it was no wonder his Dad's skills were that good. "Yeah we're definitely screwed if she doesn't like pasta" Cole joked, drinking from his cup of water. "Not that we have to worry about that for a while at least"

Lili "Sounds good," Lili smiled at Cole. As helpful as Cole was being throughout her entire pregnancy, Lili knew that eventually she'd have to stop depending on him. They were going to be parents together, but she was going to be a single mother nevertheless. She couldn't lean on Cole to provide everything for her or for Brooklyn. "As long as she's not vegan, that's all that matters. Mads keeps telling her that meat is evil and if our baby comes out wanting only organic mush, I'm gonna make Mads change every dirty diaper." Lili smirked at Cole as she said this and took another bite. "But I'm guessing the only thing she'll want is milk for a while so you're right, we've got time." Lili just hoped breastfeeding wasn't the nightmare it seemed to be for other women.

Cole: "It does. Although I don't think babies can be vegan anyways right? If you're breastfeeding then they're still getting milk from something. Unless they have soy formula or whatever" So long as Brooklyn was happy and healthy then that was all Cole could really have wanted and he was just going to support whatever Lili wanted to do as best he could. This was a whole other ball game that they'd really have to learn about, pregnancy was one thing but everything that came after Brooklyn was born was something else entirely. They could just take it all as it came. After his bowl was finished and Cole had drained the last of the water from his cup, he stood up, stacking the dishwasher with whatever he could fit inside it. "So, do you want me to walk you home? Or..you could stay? You can borrow some clothes and we can sort though the bags we got earlier?" He offered.

Lili "Sshh." Lili placed her hand over Cole's mouth, dramatically widening her eyes. "No more v word around this child. Too much damage has been done already." She gave Cole a little wink and as she saw him standing to collect the dishes, handed hers over. She felt comfortably full. Draining the last of her water, Lili stood up and watched as Cole bent down to put away the dishes. Domestic. So domestic. Daddy Cole vibes already..it really wasn't fair. She let out a little sigh and pointed towards the bathroom as he began to ask her a question. "I think I'm just gonna freshen myself up." She wanted to brush her teeth so she didn't have pasta breath and her cheeks could use some cold water to wake her up to reality. Her and Cole were /friends/. Just f r i e n d s. She shut the bathroom door behind her, splashed her face with some water, and squeezed some toothpaste on her finger as she scrubbed her teeth. Stupid Cole being so sweet and charming and sexy and domestic.

Cole: "Alright" Cole chuckled and filled the dishwasher with Lili's dishes before turning it on and beginning to give the hand wash only dishes a quick scrub to put onto the drying rack. "Okay" He nodded at Lili's next words and watched her leave. He still wasn't sure if she was planning on going anywhere or whether she wanted to stay over. Something that seemed to be happening more and more lately. Cole didn't mind. It was a lot nicer than being alone in bed all the time and Lili seemed to sleep well at his place so he was happy that she seemed to be getting some rest which was always a good thing. Walking into his own room and shutting the door, Cole changed out of his jeans and into some sweats, swapping his jumper for a plain singlet. The heater was blasting in the apartment so Cole didn't feel like he needed much else. He left some clothes out that Lili could change into if she wanted and then moved into the lounge room. Most of the baby things were sorted by where they'd been bought but Cole was going to make piles of what they had, clothes, blankets, gadgets etc just so they'd be able to sort them easily later.

Lili didn't immediately leave the restroom. She snooped a little. Opening up Cole's bathroom cabinet, she snorted at the pack of condoms, unscrewed some tops of colognes and smelled them, and nodded approvingly at the skincare products Chrissy had sent him. He was keeping up with his skin care regime, good boy. It wasn't until Lili figured Cole would think that she fell into the toilet that she finally washed her hands one last time for good measure, and opened the door. She could see into Cole's bedroom and saw that he had laid out some clothes for her. Sweet. Incredibly annoying that he was being so attentive and sweet and emotionally unavailable to her but..sweet. She shed her clothes and slipped on his shirt, seeing that it fell mid thigh and deciding to skip the sweats. It was too hot in his apartment anyways. She ran a hand through her hair and tousled it before coming back out to see Cole looking through the bags. "Whatcha doing?" She asked him, leaning against the doorframe of his living room.

Cole: "Cole hadn't even realised Lili had left the bathroom so when she spoke from just to the side of him, Cole just about jumped out of his skin, placing a hand on his heart "You gave me a heart attack" He told her with a smile, "And I'm sorting making piles in the bags of what we have. I figured if we had a different bag for a different category then when we got shopping later, it'll be easier to sort through that way as well. We're definitely going to need some more clothes probably but I think we did pretty good today" At least they had a few of the basic necessities. He looked up to Lili as he spoke his last few words, taking note of her outfit. She looked...hot in his t-shirt. She always had. Lili being in his clothes had always been a turn on and it had been endless when they had been dating. It was different now, especially that she was pregnant but she still looked just as good in his shirts, bump and all.

Lili bit her lip, laughing. "Sorry, scaredy pants," she teased. She hadn't known Cole was that deep in concentration. She straightened up and went to go sit down next to him, seeing the careful piles and arrangements he had already made. It wasn't something she was very interested in but she still perused through them, remembering what they had bought. "I feel like clothes are tricky because who knows how big she'll be and how much she'll grow," Lili told him as she carefully folded a onesie she had picked up and then placed back in the bag. "And some stuff we can order. I saw a few cribs I liked and bookmarked, I'll show you later. But I think we got a lot of essentials." They had almost everything that was needed on the 'baby's first checklist' PDF Lili had found and printed. She glanced back up to see Cole staring at her and she smiled. "What are you looking at?"

Cole: “Yeah we don’t know how big she’ll be but I don’t think she’ll be huge. Maybe long” Cole was pretty tall and Lili wasn’t super short so it was probably easy to assume that Brooklyn could possibly fall somewhere in the middle. His cheeks flushed when he realised Lili was looking at him and Cole had been too intent on looking at her to realise. He could’ve said ‘nothing and waved off an excuse but it felt like Lili had already caught him. “Just you” he told her honestly and moved closer to press a kiss to her lips. When he pulled away, his cheeks were redder still. “Sorry, just ignore I ever did that” Cole didn’t really think Lili would mind but it was a dangerous game to play with both their feelings.

Lili closed her eyes as Cole moved in to kiss her. It was both expected and unexpected; she recognized his soft looks, but he didn't normally go past more than sweet words when it came to them lately. Cole was much more restrained than Lili was. When he pulled back, she licked her lips and shook her head. "You can't apologize for kissing me," she told him with furrowed brows and then moved into kiss him again. "You either want to kiss me or you don't. Make up your mind, Cole." Lili's tone was teasing but they both knew the serious undertone of her statement. It also didn't help that Cole smelled really good and was really warm and that Lili's fingers were now moving through his longer strands of hair as she got closer to his face than she had in a while. "But if you're not going to kiss me, I'm going home because I am so damn horny and you're not helping by being..you."

Cole: “Yes I can. I just did” Cole smirked and shut his eyes as Lili moved to kiss him again. It was a struggle constantly for Cole to not kiss Lili, especially as he always wanted to, much much more than what he ended up acting on. “I always want to kiss you” He told her. One of his hands was moving down her back, the soft of his shirt coupled with the warmth of her skin was making it hard to stop. “Don’t worry, I intend on finishing what I started” He replied, moving in to kiss her once again.

Lili "You're talking too much," Lili said before Cole shut her up with his mouth. As much as Lili loved what Cole had to say, she wanted less talking, more kissing. His hands pressed against her and the feeling of him going to take off the shirt she was wearing made Lili moan and she just kissed him that much harder. /Finally/. It had been so long since they had last done this and the relief Lili felt at just being touched by him made her want to cry. Nobody made her feel as good or as loved or as wanted by Cole and consequences of hooking up be damned - she had an itch to scratch and Cole was finally going to make it go away.

Cole: Lili’s shirt or rather Cole’s shirt that Lili had been wearing had come off rather quickly and once his mission of taking it off had been accomplished, Cole moved to pulls his own singlet off, tossing it amongst the bags they were sorrounded by. His mouth still attached to Lili’s, Cole got up and tried to move both himself and Lili into the bedroom. Dylan wasn’t home yet, at least Cole didn’t think he was but he still didn’t feel like being interrupted in the living room either way. The door had slammed noisily behind them and it was a bit of a stumble but they made it to Cole’s bed. Afterwards, happy and sated, Cole moved his arm around Lili, his eyes beginning to droop shut “I love you” he told her sleepily.

Lili laid stretched out on Cole's bed after they were finished, staring up at the ceiling. She couldn't move due to Cole's arm being on top of her and she didn't want to. She probably should pee - she definitely should brush her hair - but there was something about this moment that she just wanted to stay in and soak in. She had been sleeping alone for some time now and just being this close to Cole was everything. When he spoke, her eyes pricked with tears. It was hard to hear, but she knew he meant it. "I love you too," she whispered back softly and sighed, rolling over so that she was resting her head against his chest. She wasn't tired - far from it - but in bed with Cole, in their own little world, is where she wanted to be.

[pyrrhicwildfire]

※DO NOT REPOST / HOST MY WORK ON OTHER APPS OR SITES

Katsuki has never coasted his way through life for one bit, and he’s always liked it that way. Knowing that he is who he is, where he is, being what he is, through sheer hard work and effort— it’s something he prides himself in without having to speak on it, knowing his efforts would be visible to any outsider looking in.

But entering a dream and being told by some weird-ass sparkling lady that calls herself a god (of a sort) that she can offer him the truth of his existence and his future isn’t in the damn plans.

“I don’t need any truths for my existence,” he argues, scowling askance at the annoyingly genial smile on the stranger’s face. “I’ll just live how I want.”

“That’s always been your character, so I’m not surprised,” she says, pissing Katsuki off further. Who the hell was she to presume any knowledge of Katsuki’s character?

“Who the hell are you, huh? You talk like you know shit. I don’t believe in any gods, nor do I need ‘em.”

“Harsh,” she chuckles, “but I’ve always believed in you. Not that I’m a god by human definition, but that’s the closest thing I can refer to myself as being. I know close to everything. You’ve a set story to your life, and I know your entire past.” She pauses at the growing anger on his face. “Also, you’re not the main character.”

“The fuck are you talking about?!”

“Your entire life is just a side-story to a main character—”

“Who the hell else would be the main character?!”

“Well,” she said, a seemingly amused glint to her eyes, “didn’t you just say that you don’t need any truths—”

“You started this shit, so end it!”

“It’s Midoriya Izuku. The boy you call Deku,” she says, smile widening with his widening eyes. “The reason for his travels, and the reason he’s searching for you...he’s going to bring around a big change in the world.”

“Bullshit,” he spits out, standing up straighter, the furs of his coat grazing his neck with the move. “That scrawny nerd? No way.”

“Well, you know how stories go, about weak protagonists becoming strong through their adventures...”

“You really expect me to believe that shit? Just get lost!”

She pouts at him. “Hey, I’m more powerful than you think. I came because I can grant you a boon, you know? Even if he’s central to the story, you’re just as important as anyone else, and I do like your character.”

He snarls at her persistence, shoulders rising with the growing tension up his spine. Who the hell was she to act so arrogantly benevolent like he ever asked for any favors in his life? He became a dragon lord exactly because of his own strength and power, and he’s not gonna start asking for magical aid now! He snaps, “I don’t need nor do I want anything from you!”

She sighs, and says, “I know that you beat the dragons with your bare hands to get their allegiance. I know that you’re the current dragon lord. I know that you’ve known Izuku since you were children, and I know that you hold a grudge on him for assisting you one time when his intentions were pure even if you believed them to be malicious and taunting. I know—”

“Shaddup! No one asked!”

“I needed to convince you that I’m close to omniscient, though? It’d be a waste of my effort to get into your dream when you’re just rushing me out...”

“I didn’t even ask for you, you stalker!”

“I literally can’t control being able to see everything as a god-like being,” she says, sounding resigned as she sighs. “I can’t even control anything in this world you live in, I can only watch and know all. That I’ve managed to enter your dream is a feat in itself! I don’t want to waste it!”

“I don’t care!” Katsuki grumbles, walking as far as his feet can carry him in the empty space of his dream. It does nothing to distance him from the strange woman, which only serves to anger him further. “What the hell!”

“Ah, didn’t I say? You can’t leave unless I allow it.”

“I’m gonna kill you!” he roars, rushing at her, before floundering when he passes right through her like she’s a ghost. “The hell— coward!” he cries. “You can’t even face me properly?!”

“I can’t maintain a physical form even in a dream,” she points out. “Just being here is taxing enough. What more must I say so you’ll listen? It’s not like you’ll be in this dream forever, though I can only extend it for as much as you’re able to sleep.”

“You telling me I just need to wait this out?” Katsuki says, sharp gaze attempting and failing to bore a hole into her existence. “I have to tolerate you for the rest of this dream?”

“Rude.”

“That’s just how I am,” he bites out. “If you’re the god that you say you are, you’d know.”

“Ah, touché.” She lets her shoulders droop, seeming like she’s agreeing, though Katsuki wouldn’t trust her as far as he could throw her (even if, should she have a physical form, he’s sure he could manage literally doing so). “Then I’ll just make this short, since you’re in a rush. Like I said, I intend to give you a boon—”

“Don’t want it.”

She frowns at him, eyes narrowing. “I could literally tell you when you’ll die, or how. You’re sure you don’t want a boon from me?”

“I don’t trust you, why the hell would I accept a boon from you?” he says, raising an eyebrow at her. “And everyone dies. I sure as hell will, at some point. You saying shit ain’t gonna change that.”

She sighs at his words, though it’s quickly followed with a smile. It’s so abrupt that he falters, eyes squinting at her as he tries to gauge whatever the hell it is she’s thinking about him or his response. She’s been weird so far, even if harmless— he has no way to know if she won't suddenly up and stab him or something.

“What’re you smiling for, huh?!”

“You’re just very...you,” she says, her wide smile making the corners of her eyes wrinkle. “I guess it goes against your self-imposed rules to have some kind of cheat against your natural lifespan, huh? That’s fine. Then, won’t you let me just grant you one thing? Something you want.” She pauses for seeming impact, before wiggling her eyebrows at him. “Maybe, someone you love..?”

He scowls at her offer. Still, he says, “If I love someone, they’re gonna love me because of me, not because you manipulated them with some shitty magic. No fucking thanks.”

Her smile only softens at his words, which just makes him even more uncomfortable. Who the hell was this person, acting like they gave a damn about him and his well-being?! What a weirdo!

“Really? Nothing at all? No wishes?” she needles, not minding the way he’s starting to shake with visible anger. “You know, out of everyone I’ve seen, you’ve always been my favorite. That’s why, if I could give you something—”

“No!” he refuses vehemently, flipping his finger at her with all the aggression he can muster. “I’ll live my life how I want without any of your weird god bullshit! You want to grant me a wish? My wish is that you’d leave me alone!”

“So aggressive,” she laughs. It only pisses him off more that she’s not intimidated, though that anger soon ebbs when he notices her form fading from his vision. She says, “Looks like my time is up for this dream, and you really won’t give me a wish to grant...I guess I’ll just do what I want!” She then winks at him (the audacity of this asshole!) and adds, “Like you! And don’t worry, I’ll erase your memory so you can’t get paranoid when you wake up and things start going your way a little easier!”

“What the—”

She says cheerily, “Have a good life, Bakugou!”

“Fuck,” he croaks out, blinking awake, squinting bleary eyes at his ceiling.

He has a vague feeling he dreamed something weird and foreboding, but he can’t find the exact memories to confirm it. He just knows he feels pissed off for no reason he can’t discern, and he’s pretty sure it wasn’t for nothing.

Ugh, fuck it.

He’ll think on it later. Dreams don’t mean shit in the real world, anyway.

[ganglylimbs]

No Smoking

Fandom: My Hero Academia 

Pairing: Pre Bakugou/Kirishima (some pinning fools)

Summary: Katsuki is having some cravings, but he promised to give up smoking. Kirishima helps to make it better. 

Notes: For @pure-bakusass and their lovely college au. I hope you like it! 

And please excuse the way I wrote the texts. 

It has been 6 hours since his last cigarette and Katsuki is dying.

He stares at them, lying there, innocently on the table. A brand new, unopened pack. It would be so easy to pull one out, light it till smoke curls around his lungs, filling him up and calming him down. 

His fingers tap, tap, tap against his desk. His eyes don’t leave them. He wants, he wants, he wants-

Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

No. He promised Kiri- he promised himself that he was going to stop. He’s stronger than them, stronger than this fucking addiction. He can do it, he can do it. 

The cigs lay there. Mocking him. Tempting them. 

He should throw them away, he knows. There’s a trashcan not even five feet away. 

 But he just can’t bring himself too, stomach twisting everytime the thought crosses his mind.

Another deep breath. He will, he promises himself. He’ll throw them away, just...not right now. Now, he stares at them. They stare back. He turns away, towards the tv, which is playing some shitty show. It’s stupid and unintersting, with a lame plot. It makes him angry as he watches it, twitchy with nervous energy. He stands up, pacing, which only makes him angrier at himself for acting this way, so he goes to sit back down. 

He needs a distraction, something to get his mind off them. Almost unwillingly, his eyes drift to his phone. 

“Oh dude, you’re giving up smoking? That’s so manly.” 

Bakugou jerks his eyes away. Tch. Whatever. He’s always wanted to quit, just never found the right time to, always too busy. It’s a total coincidence that he’s choosing to quit around the same time Kirishima wanted him to.  

“Hey, if you’re quitting because of me that means you’re also going to go through withdraws because of me, right? Uncool. Here, have my number. If you get cravings, just text me. I’ll totally distract you.” 

The idiot had smiled so wide when he said it, so blinding, as if he hadn’t said something so completely stupid. Bakugou doesn’t need his help, or his stupid support. He’s fine on his own, always has been. 

He doesn’t need anyone.

He glances at the cigarettes. His leg bounces. He glances back at his phone. He picks it up, fiddling with a few apps, opening his messages, ignoring Kirishima’s name, before closing it again. 

He looks at the cigarettes. He’s getting desperate, his hands sweaty. One couldn’t hurt right? Just a quick drag-

No. No, he’s not some shitty loser. He isn’t going to give in just because his stupid body is going through fucking withdraw. 

He picks up his phone again, going to the last message Kirishima sent him whenever they had first exchanged numbers early that day. 

Shitty Hair:  Hey, bro! This is Kirishima Eijirou. You can text me anytime you want. I’m here to help you, just like you’re helping me! 

Katsuki’s lips curl. Stupid fucking idiot, with his stupid fucking positivitity. Why is he so fucking happy all the time? Katsuki could just imagine Shitty Hair typing that all up with that same stupid smile. Maybe even eyes sparkling as he texts Katsuki-

His heart thumps. 

Shaking his head, Katsuki bites his bottom lip. If he were to text back...what would he even say? He wasn’t exactly an expert on texting people. Is a hey too simple? Hello sounded too formal. What’s up? No, he didn’t want to sound like Kaminari. 

Me: Shitty Hair. 

There. That should be ok...maybe. 

A minute passes by, slow as molasses. Katsuki’s teeth are clenched together and he has to make an effort to not crush or throw his phone. Maybe he shouldn’t have texted that. Maybe it’s too late. It is already past 8. Kirishima could be getting ready for bed like Katsuki was. Or maybe Katsuki was just bothering him. Kirishima said he could text at anytime but did he really mean that? Maybe he was just being nice. It would be something the Shitty Hair would do, always so fucking nice, he was just being nice, he doesn’t actually care-

A ding has Katsuki scrambling for his phone. 

Shitty Hair: hey! my hair isn’t that different from yours 

Katsuki snorts. 

Me: Ex-fucking-cuse me? My hair is awesome. Yours is dumb. How’d you even find a hair color that hideous?

Shitty Hair: LOL 

Shitty Hair: come on admit it the color is pretty badass 

Me: You look like a firetruck. 

Shitty Hair: but a /badass/ firetruck 

Me:...you’re going to turn anything I say into a compliment, aren’t you?

Shitty Hair: maybe :P

Katsuki shakes his head. He even texts like a moron. Who uses typed emojis? 

Shitty Hair: anyways what’s up? cravings?

Katsuki pauses. He looks at the cigarettes, his foot still tapping at the ground. 

Me: No. I can’t text you?

Katsuki puts his phone down, rubbing his hands down his face. Why is he so bad at this? Sure, he’s not used to it but that doesn’t excuse how pathetic he’s being. His phone dings again and a part of Katsuki wants to throw it out the window. 

Fuck Kirishima for making him feel this way. 

Shitty Hair:  totally dude! I just didn’t take you much for being a texter 

Katsuki takes a deep breath. The fucker is too pure for his own good and it makes Katsuki feel even worse. 

Me: I’m not.

Bakugou hesitates for a second. But he is the one being a wimp and bothering Kirishima.

Me:..and yes. Cravings. It’s getting pretty bad. 

Katsuki huffs. There. That wasn’t so bad to admit. Didn’t make him feel as pathetic as he’s sure he’s being. 

Shitty Hair: :( 

Shitty Hair: sorry to hear 

Shitty Hair: that must suck

Me: It does but I’m not some wimp. I can handle it. 

Shitty Hair: totally dude!

Shitty Hair: you're super manly!

Shitty Hair: although don't be too tough on yourself if you do fail sometimes

Shitty Hair: as long as you keep trying, you'll always be awesome! 

Katsuki hides his face in his arm and screams. 

“Katsuki, what the hell are you doing nowl?” He hears his mom screaming at him from down in the kitchen. 

“Mind your own business, hag!” Katsuki screams back. He looks down at his phone, ignoring his mom's scream of "Respect your parents, you damn brat", face burning. How does Kirishima manage to send all of that so easy? Does he have no shame? 

Me: Whatever. It's late. We should get some sleep.

Shitty Hair: it's only 8:30 my dude???

Me: Yeah? So?

Shitty Hair: do you usually go to bed this early?

Me: Fucking, yeah. You have a problem with that?

Shitty Hair: no! It's kind of cute, actually

Shitty Hair: wait

Shitty Hair: not that I think your cute

Shitty Hair: WAIT

Shitty Hair: not that your /not/ cute

Shitty Hair:...fuck

Shitty Hair: can you pretend to not see that and just let me die of embarrassment in peace

Katsuki is currently melting into his bed. Why is his heart pounding so hard? Why are his palms sweaty? Who gave Kirishima the fucking right to do this to him? 

Ok. Breath. It's fine, it's fine. Kirishima is just being his usual idiot self. He doesn't mean it like that, he even said so!

...the thought fails to make Bakugou feel better.

Me: It's early to bed, early to rise, or some fuck like that. You need at least 8 hours of sleep, dumbass. 

Bakugou ignores the texts about being cute. If he ignores it, then it can't affect him.

(Besides the way his stomach twists whenever he thinks about Kirishima calling him cute.) 

Kirishima doesn’t text back right away and Katsuki begins to sweat again. Did he say something wrong? Did Kirishima get bored of their conversation. He looks up back through their messages. 

Katsuki frowns. He supposes...he isn’t the best conversationalist. They were literally talking about sleep! He groans, plugging in his phone and heading downstairs to get a cup of water. He dodges his mother’s questions about what he was doing and ducks his head to avoid the hand his father tries to run through his hair, before heading back. 

The first thing he notices is his cigarettes still laying there. But looking at them has him thinking of Kirishima again. He turns away. 

The second thing he notices is that his phone has a notification. Raising an eyebrow, Katsuki picks it up. 

Shitty Hair: your so manly, dude! 

Shitty Hair: i guess i’ll leave you to sleep then

Shitty Hair: i’ll see you tomorrow right? for our study session?

Shitty Hair: anyways, have a great night! :D

Katsuki sits down and buries his face in his hands. He can feel himself burning, sure that he’s red all the way to his ears. 

That stupid idiot. The fucking moron. He’s a shitty hair, dumb face moron who is going to make Katsuki have a heart attack with how hard it’s beating in his chest. 

He takes a couple deep breaths, calming down enough to lift his head. Shakily, he texts out a message. 

Me: Yeah. See you tomorrow. 

Katsuki battles himself for a long time. Finally, he adds.

Me: Have great night, too.

[peonysimmer]

previous|beginning|next

Haleigh stands inside the tiny apartment and quickly takes stock of her surroundings, cataloging how it’s changed since the last time she stepped foot in here. She finds the biggest difference to be the distinct lack of Tori’s presence. 

“You can sit you know,” Sloane drawls as she moves into the cramped kitchen space and gestures to the tattered sofa and mismatched chairs surrounding the coffee table.

Haleigh nods but can’t seem to make herself move, feeling suddenly unsure and uncomfortable in her skin, in this stupid tight dress. 

Sloane studies her for a moment before sighing and pushes past her towards a shelf covered in folded laundry. She digs through the stacks and quickly pulls a couple pieces. 

“Here,” she says, shoving them into Haleigh’s hands, “these should fit you. You can change over there,” she adds, pointing past the shoji screen that separates the bedroom area from the living room. 

Fingering the soft fabric, Haleigh gives her a small but grateful smile. “Thanks.”

Sloane nods curtly and goes back into the kitchen to give her some privacy. Haleigh quickly changes into the borrowed clothing, grateful to finally be out of that damn dress, and kicks off her heels, leaving both placed on the bench at the end of Sloane’s bed.

In the kitchen Sloane is rummaging through cabinets, she stops when Haleigh reenters. 

“Tea or bourbon?” she asks seriously.

“I think tea would probably be best.”

Sloane nods, seemingly to herself as she grabs the tea kettle and fills it up before setting it on the stove.

Haleigh settles on the couch and her eyes roam around the apartment as Sloane prepares the tea. There’s not much to see, the kitchen is tiny, the tiles are covered in years of grime, the few plants she has strewn around the place seem to be in need of a good watering. The coffee table in front of her sports evidence of the plans Haleigh clearly interrupted; a packed bong, a bowl of chips, and a laptop with netflix already queued up. There are books stacked underneath and she idly wonders why genre Sloane’s into these days. 

Music pours from the laptop on the table, just loud enough to be heard throughout the whole room. Haleigh focuses on the lyrics in an attempt to keep her brain from wandering to dangerous places. As if coming here wasn’t practically begging it to do just that.

The kettle begins whistling loudly and Sloane flips off the burner. She quickly makes two cups and brings them over, clearing a space for them on the cluttered table. She sits down next to her on the sofa, something Haleigh finds vaguely surprising, she would have figured Sloane would have kept a bit more distance between them. They sit in mutual silence for a few minutes, just the sound of the music and a spoon hitting the sides of a teacup as Haleigh stirs in some honey, before Sloane appears to have had enough. 

“You gonna tell me why you showed up at my door now?” she asks, her calculating eyes trained on Haleigh.

Setting her cup down, she scrubs a hand over her face, not caring if she ruins her makeup. “I don’t know,” Haleigh sighs defeatedly. “I had a shitty client, things got out of hand, and before I knew it, I was in a cab telling the driver to go here.” 

It was like she’d been on autopilot, and not just on the way over. As soon as that shitheel, Wade, had started getting handsy her training had taken over. Don’t cause a scene, keep it inconspicuous and diffuse the situation as best as possible. She’d tried, at first, but he kept pushing, spewing demeaning bullshit that shouldn’t affect her, but she’d cracked, just a little. Just enough to knock him down a few pegs, to put him back in his place; he hadn’t liked it. Lucky for her she’d managed to catch the eye of a security guard who’d been able to handle things a bit more efficiently. And then she was in the cab, texting with her handler from the agency to report the incident, as per company policy, and at some point she’d given the driver this address.

Sloane’s expression remains impassive as she sips at her tea. “I told you from the very beginning that this job could get rough.”

Haleigh nods. “You did.”

And she had. Months ago, back when the catering job was actually her job and not just a cover story, she’d run into her at a party. They’d gotten to talking and Haleigh had found out that Sloane had taken up escorting for a bit; one thing led to another and soon Haleigh was calling up an agency.

“It’s not like this is my first time dealing with this kind of shit, but I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to go home, and there’s no one else I can talk to about this who will actually understand.” She thinks about telling Gretchen what when down, and she knows exactly how she’d react. She’d be furious, no doubt she’d be ready to tract that loser down and lay into him. She’d try to convince Haleigh that the money isn’t worth it, that she can find a better job, that she has other options. She wouldn’t get it.

Not like Sloane does.

Sloane who started stripping before she was even totally legal, who’s put up with this bullshit for years. Sloane who now nods understandingly and doesn’t try to tell her how she needs to change her situation.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Haleigh considers her offer and shrugs. “It was just a handsy, entitled client, nothing new. The worst part of it is knowing that if I make a scene, I’ll be the one penalized for it. You just stand there while it happens, trying to figure out how to diffuse the situation as discreetly as possible, when all you want to do reel back and punch that fucker in the throat then get the hell out of there. It’s the most suffocating, demeaning feeling.” And sitting here, strangely comfortable in this tiny apartment, she starts to admit that maybe the worst part, the part that really got to her, is how much he looked like him. How horrifyingly familiar it was to stare into cold blue eyes while he criticized her with a practiced smirk; her stomach plummets once again just thinking about it.

Sloane studies her for a moment, her dark eyes seem to have softened slightly. “I never worked for an agency like yours; my clients weren’t heavy hitting high society pricks like yours. I didn’t have to worry as much about causing a scene, but I do know what you mean. That helpless feeling that grips you by the throat, that leaves you feeling frozen, it’s the absolute worst thing you can feel in those moments. But these guys don’t own you, even if they do pay for your time. You don’t let this shit define you, you never give them that power. You go through shit, you grow from it and come out stronger; you survive. It’s all you can do, and if you need to land a right hook or two once in a while, so be it, they had it coming, and I doubt you’d have a hard time finding a new source of income.”

Haleigh ruminates on Sloane’s words for a moment. You go through shit, you grow from it. She’d definitely gone through shit, but growing from it, getting over it? She’d never really gotten the hang of that part. 

Silence falls between them once again and she finds herself rubbing absentmindedly at her wrist, realizing that it’s still throbbing from that dick grabbing her so roughly earlier. 

Sloane catches the movement and understands immediately. “You need some ice? I think I’ve got frozen veggies.”

“Nah, it’s fine, I doubt it’ll even bruise.”

Sloane’s eyes narrow a bit, but she doesn’t push it. 

“Thanks for letting me vent, and for everything else,” Haleigh adds, gesturing to the borrowed clothes and tea. “You didn’t have to let me in.”

“I know I didn’t.”

Haleigh cracks a smile before sobering up. “At the risk of pushing my luck, can I ask you something?”

Shrugging, Sloane settles further into the couch cushions. “I don’t make any promises.”

Haleigh sucks in a breath, exhaling loudly before asking, “Do you ever talk to her? Tori?” she clarifies, though she doubts she needed to. 

Sloane raises a thick brow and eyes her carefully. “It’s probably been four years since I’ve visited her. I don’t like dwelling on the past and Tori’s the kind of person who never moves past it. But it was fun while it lasted.”

“Sorry it ended like that, I wasn’t aiming for her,” Haleigh says, but she’s not sure she’s really that sorry. Tori never showed her any kindness anyway.

Sloane waves her off. “She knew what she was doing, if she got caught it was because she was sloppy. She’s a big girl, Haleigh, and at some point we all have to take responsibility for our own shit, that includes him.”

Her breath catches at the subtle mention and she does her best to recover quickly. “You haven’t… you haven’t heard from him, have you?”

The sympathetic look on Sloane’s face seems strangely out of place. “No, he never tried to contact me and I never really felt the need to go see him,” she says with finality. 

It’s funny how back then Haleigh had never really given Sloane much thought; she’d kind of just written her off as Tori’s girlfriend and moved on, but looking back on it now she had been the only one from that group who hadn’t treated Haleigh like a nuisance. She’d never underestimated her, Haleigh had often caught her giving her knowing glances, like she was aware of what she was capable of, even if the others weren’t. And when it came down to it that night, she’d found something of a silent ally in her. It hadn’t been much, a subtle gesture, but it had said enough. 

“But you know his sentence can’t be too much longer now, about a year or so I’d guess,” she cautions, bringing Haleigh back from thoughts of the past and into the terrible possibilities of the future.

Her stomach twists uneasily at the reminder she didn’t need. “I’ll cross that bridge if and when I need to,” she says firmly. “But right now I should probably head home,” she tells her, already opening the ride app on her phone; exhaustion is starting to set in and she wants nothing more than to collapse on her bed.

“You got a place these days? Last time we saw each other you were couch hopping.”

A small smile plays on her lips when she thinks of home. “Yeah, I met a guy back in the summer, he’s just a friend,” she amends when she catches the sly grin on Sloane’s face. “But we got a place together back in September. Perk of this job, steady rent money.”

Sloane laughs. “Amen to that.”

[undertaleimaginationland]

“You wanna sleep? Coward.” with Underfell Sans requested by @anonymous.

Okay, this one is a bit longer, so it’s under the cut. I had this one be pre-relationship so y’all could suffer. Enjoy~

Underfell

Red-

It’s four in the morning when you hear a ding from your phone. A small sound that lights up your phone and the dark room around it. An odd time to be up, indeed. Even for you. Perhaps that nightmare of yours was a bit too much. You don't quite remember the whole thing, but you suppose it's for the best.

With nothing better to do, you open your phone and check the notification.

thot: u up??

Oh stars, you forgot about that name. It makes his texts all the more fitting-- and utterly hilarious.

In your once quiet bedroom, you become a giggling mess.

You: Now I am

thot: lmao did i wake you

You: Nah, I was up already

There’s a brief pause in the conversation before he replies.

thot: got somebody over?

A part of you wants to rock the boat. Just to stir a reaction out of him. So, of course, that’s exactly what you do.

You: Obviously. Why else would I be awake??

His reply comes in an instant.

thot: who

thot: who is it

You grin as you close out of the messenger app. Somewhere in the depths of your photo gallery, you have an album of memes saved for moments like these.

Without a second doubt, you send him a photo of a laughing Kermit.

You: He’s cute, right <333

You wait a couple of seconds before receiving a selfie-- erm, a skelfie. It’s Red, grimacing as he gives the camera a one finger salute.

thot: fuck you

You: Lmao he has that covered already

Smartass. Your phone begins to ring. A blaring “Spooky Scary Skeletons” tune that startles you into answering the call.

“hey, asshole.”

“What’s up, thot?”

“stars-- ya still have that fuckin’ name fer me, don’tcha?”

Intuitive, as always. You’re unable to contain yourself, laughing out a mirthful, “Nope~”

“liar,” he says with no real conviction. “what’s gotcha up this late, doll?”

“My man,” you reply with a grin. “He’s right here if you wanna talk to him.”

There’s a decisive sigh on the other line. “put em on, sweetheart.”

And with that, you muster your best Kermit impersonation: “Hello, motherfucker--”

He bursts into full-blown belly laughter. Uncontrollable guffaws that have you cracking up as well.

“what the...when the fuck didja,” Red is only able to speak in fragments, absolutely floored. “the fuck are you doing?!”

You decide to keep up the act. “Well, my lady and I were busy--”

“fuck off!”

“--super busy, I should add. When you interrupted us.”

His breathing is labored from all the laughing. “stars, dollface. yer killin’ me here.”

“We’re trying to sleep here, pal.”

“you wanna sleep? coward.”

Your throat begins to hurt, so you drop the accent. “Don’t talk to my man like that. He has a point.”

“then sleep, you coward.”

“I’m not a coward!”

“oh really?”

“Yeah, really!”

The line fizzes out on the other end. He gives no response. “...Hello? Red?”

“heya.”

“Shit,” you stumble out of bed with a yelp, landing flat on your butt. Now leaning smugly on your bedroom door is Red. His grin is sharklike as he saunters forward.

“need a hand?”

“Fuck off,” you say, letting him help you to your feet. “You’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

“yeah, probably,” he takes your hand and flops back in bed, dragging you down with him. “not today, though. m’too tired.”

“Lucky me then, huh?”

“for sure,” his gaze travels up the wall, to the ceiling, and back to you. “ya never answered my question.”

“What?”

“what’s gotcha stayin’ up this late? and dun say it’s fuckin’ kermit. i know that ain’t the reason.”

You laugh once more, but in an instant, your gaze drops to your hand. He’s still holding onto you. His fingers seem longer up close, riddled with small knicks and calluses, as he massages your knuckles.

“I can’t sleep,” you admit, mouth going dry.

He says something, but you’re finding it impossible to focus. Instead, you stare into those burning red pinpricks of his. They’re lulling, despite the color. A floating crimson glow that has you thirsty for a cup of wine. Or… perhaps something else.

“yer starin’ at me, doll,” Red muses, though you notice there’s a titter to his voice. “you okay?”

Just like that, you break from your trance. God, what the hell are you thinking? He’s your friend. Best friend. He’s not here to...to…

“I’m fine.”

“really?”

“I said I’m fine, Red,” you insist, and Red visibly flinches away. The sight breaks your heart. “Sorry, I’m just...kinda out of it. Bad dreams and all that crap.”

He grunts. “ah, that sounds about right.” He gets up slightly, just enough to pull the covers over you. “i can stay if ya want, sweetheart.” His cheekbones flush at the offer. “help, uh, ya know-- chase the shitty dreams away.”

As great of a friend he is, he sure has some terrible timing. The one day your breath catches. The one time your heart’s hammering in your chest. That very moment where the world shifts into something new, more exciting, and absolutely terrifying.

He chose this day of all days.

“Uh.” Don’t say yes, don’t say yes, don’t say-- “O-Okay then.”

...Damn.

His eye sockets go wide, elated. Like he didn’t expect you to agree. “i, erm, wait. really?”

Welp, there’s no backing out now. “Yeah, really. I’m cool with it.”

He goes quiet for a moment, conflicted as he looks from you to the ground. “...am i...am i makin’ ya uncomfortable, doll?”

“What--”

“i’ll take the ground if that’s the case,” he continues, the warmth of his hand fleeting as he moves away. “s’no big deal.”

“No,” you insist, grabbing ahold of him once more. This seems to stop him in his tracks, so you continue. “I-I mean… I don’t mind. Not at all, in fact. Do you?”

Shut up, Y/n.

You feel his eye lights on you, but you’re looking down. Hoping, praying, that he doesn’t find this the most ludicrous thing.

He laughs, a little breathless, like he’s been holding it all in, before laying by your side. “quit hoggin’ the blankets, asshole.”

[sendhelpfanfics]

Feels a lot like home - Chapter 1

So, here’s my first attempt at a Sterek fic. Basic premise is; Stiles suffers with agoraphobia, basically a fear of places which might cause him anxiety (similar to my own) This will get smutty later on, it’s a slow burner though. No wolfishness in this, just wanted to see my babies in new situations. 

I own nothing and no one, other than my shitty idea to put these lads through hell.

Unbeta’d all the errors are entirely my own.

—–

Chapter 1 - Open plan

The house looked big, bigger than Stiles had anticipated. He hadn’t had the chance to see it in person, needing out of his old apartment as fast as possible. Out of the city, out of the damn region. Everything was different now and Stiles was terrified.

It had been a bit of a mad rush moving out and moving on. As soon as Liam had found out where Stiles had been living it had taken exactly three days for him to move out, put the house on the market, and find a new place further away. Stiles’ father had tried as hard as he could to get the restraining order, but since they didn’t have anything concrete the judge threw it out. Stiles and Noah were both devastated. As was Scott. And everyone he was leaving behind. Saying that… those last months in Beacon Hills he hadn’t seen many of them at all, too afraid to leave the house just incase.

The house was lovely though. Truly lovely. His dad had helped him pick one out, helped him organise the mortgage while he was driving over, and helped organise for all his stuff to be delivered later that day. Noah Stilinski truly was a wonder. Stiles got out, locked the car and walked up the path to the porch. Apparently the key was left under the largest plant pot. Lifting it up he reached underneath, the tightness in his chest already beginning to set in, his palms were sweaty, fingers trembling as he grabbed the key, almost dropping the flowerpot as sudden fear gripped him. Grasping the key in both hands, he forced it into the lock, fumbling a little as he tried to turn it.

“Come on… come on… turn you complete fucking-” he chanted softly under his breath, beads of sweat beginning to form on his brow as the key refused to turn in the lock, before suddenly - click. The lock turned and Stiles practically flew into the house, slamming the door shut behind him and leaning his back against it, eyes closed as he tried to control his breathing again. In… out… in… out… in. And back out again. It was fine… he was safe. He took another long deep breath and opened his eyes, looking around the large entry way.

It was at times like this that he was so damn glad he worked as a software developer. Good money, working from home and working on commission. Good god… working on commission, the money he got for that. He smiled a little to himself and looked over foyer. Clean hardwood floor in the foyer, white walls, leading to a stunning living room. That much was clear from the door. The living room was bare, the house was unfurnished after all. He loved the open-plan nature of the house. Knocked through walls and large, bright open spaces. It was beautiful.

Stiles grinned and walked through the arch into the kitchen, on his left, looking around. Nice big fridge-freezer. Lovely stovetop and oven. Awesome sink. He liked how big it was, stretching from the front of the house to the back of his house, plenty of room for his kitchen appliances. Years of cooking for his dad, making sure he ate healthily, had filled him with a love of food and preparing it. A small, quiet smile drifted over his lips as he walked through towards the wall-to-wall window that gave a lovely view of the back garden. There was a breakfast bar. He’d always wanted a breakfast bar! He smiled and ran a hand through the chocolatey mess of his hair and looked over the L-shaped breakfast bar, circling around it into the living room, opening up the large sliding patio door to look over the back porch and garden. The houses on his street backed onto the gardens from the next street over, it was going to take Stiles a while to get used to being out in his own garden, but he supposed a couple months of work and he might be able to afford to build himself a little nook in the garden. A nice little sheltered nook for him to read or do work or… you know, anything. The idea of having a garden was lovely and he was so glad his dad had suggested it. The apartment had a balcony but it felt too open, too much like being outside for real, and Stiles never used it. But a garden was different. He shut the door again and wandered upstairs to the bedroom, it was even better than the living room, without the furniture. He smiled as he looked over the lovely room, walk-in-wardrobe that he knew he wouldn’t really be needing, but it was still cool as shit to have. He figured he could put up some shelves. The furniture would arrive in about an hour, so that was good, but Stiles knew he would need to buy some more. An online shop on Ikea would work, and they had that new app - the AR one. The idea of using it was actually quite exciting to Stiles. His face split into a grin as he moved to sit in the middle of the room. Again, it had a wall-to-wall window, floor-to-ceiling, which was not going to be a problem, because the blinds looked fancy, mechanised by the look of them. Interesting indeed.

The wifi had already been sorted out yesterday, so Stiles had nothing at all to worry about. He pulled out his phone from his pocket and opened up this killer app he’d found. It was a food delivery app where you add your order and it gets delivered in 90 minutes. Perfect timing. He set about setting up his food shop - first things first of course, and placed the order, a few minutes before the doorbell rang to signify the arrival of the moving guys. Stiles rushed downstairs and let them in.

“Hey guys, sorry about the short notice… if you just move everything into the foyer, I’ll help with sorting it and once the van’s empty, you can give me a hand getting everything where it needs to be.” He said, stumbling over his words at the sudden appearance of strangers, but it was necessary and it was his stuff, so he had to appear normal… at least for now. The moving guys nodded and set about bringing in the boxes. Stiles busied himself moving them around to the appropriate rooms, beginning to unpack as the two men brought in the bed, sofas and other things which didn’t quite flat-pack themselves.

The moving guys had just finished bringing everything in and moving everything around when the food delivery arrived. Stiles was so fucking thankful, took the food and paid the dude with a massive tip before he set about making coffee for the two movers, they more than deserved it. He smiled a little as he brought the guys a coffee each. They’s just finished putting the exercise bike and treadmill in the designated gym-room upstairs. Another wall-to-wall window, in there too.

“Here you guys go… sorry about all this.” He mumbled with an apologetic smile, handing over the coffees. “It’s all been a bit of a crazy rush, and you’ve been fantastic.” He rambled softly, hands moving in his signature over-the-top manner.

“It’s fine Mr. Stilinski, honestly” One of them said, a grateful smile on his face as he took the coffee and sipped it happily. “We’re glad for the work, honestly, not many people move out of beacon hills, gave us the chance to enjoy the road a bit.”

This guy was nice, Stiles decided.

“Long trip but…” the other guy said, false smile on his face, passive-aggressive sarcasm dripping from those free words as he took a sip of the coffee.

“W-Well your tip’ll be worth it.” Stiles stammered nervously, thanking them again and heading back downstairs to the kitchen to finish unpacking the rest of the boxes for in there. About half an hour later, the kitchen was unpacked and looked fantastic - all tidy and orderly and spacious and… lived in.

“We’re off now, Mr. Stilinski.” The nice one called, and Stiles smiled, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket, grabbing a handful of notes and heading over to where he was leaning, all sultry-like against the kitchen arch.

“Here… for the trouble. Thanks again.” He said with a smile, looking a bit sheepish.

“It’s honestly no trouble. Ignore Mac.” The nice one practically purred, looking Stiles up and down briefly.

“Uh… okay…” Stiles said, cheeks colouring a little at that. “well uh… have a safe trip back then!” He said, eyes a little wider than they should have been.

The nice one smirked a little at that and headed to the door, following the sound of the truck starting. Stiles waved them off at the door before shutting it when the tightness in his chest began to return.

He closed the door, leaned back against it and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before his lips parted in a happy smile. Home… Already this place was beginning to feel like home.

[fancytigertrash]

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