#I dont write for over a year and I respond to a crack ask by my bsf

[chaotic-writer-11]

Can I get a Miguel whatever his last name is from the spider verse movie x either gn or fem reader (whichever you want to write baby boy ;p) it can be fluffy or angsty (just trying to get you to actually write something ;) )

- with lots of love from your bff

You brought this on yourself.

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

"Y/N!" Miguel yelled in a sexy way.

You jumped because you're so traumatized

"Come here!!@!" Wow he's so hot hehehehhehehwhee youthought to urself

"W-w-w-what 0_0" you asked cutely

"Im... in love with you" He hid his attractive face with love

"M-me? But you're so big and sexy and I'm so small and petite" you cried. This was true. He towered over you at 7'5 and you were only 2'4. 😞 your troubles haunted you as your beautiful blue orbs filled with tears

"Ur prefect to me" miguel said

Then he picked u up and kissed you but since he was so big and you were so small uou died instantly 😞

"NOOOIOIIOOOOOOOOOOOOO" Miguel SOBBED. He was so sad. So big and sexy and so sad.

The end

[vxiphoid]

SERENE SHENANIGANS

❨ summary ❩ twst › waking them up to tell them stories that don’t make sense

tags ✧ fluff, crack, savanaclaw boys, defo not proofread its like 7 am, cursing but nothing out of the ordinary, ooc(?), ruggie calls you a little shit like once (affectionate), jack is whipped for you

amanuensis’ message ⊹ I LITERALLY LOVE DOING THIS??? my friends hate me for it. but anyways hiii im back after like my month hiatus, how are thy sleeplings?😋 mb guys writers block has been really kicking my ass, i was spitting blanks on paper… i’m gonna hopefully post another pastry emporium soon for scarabia so stay tuned for that‼️

⌜ 300+ e/chara ⌟

♫ sunset boulevard - hohyun

twst masterlist

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

— “leona… pspsps….”

— he hums gruffly when his name was called the first time, only opening his eye thinking you called him a second time when it was really just noise that you would make to get the attention of a house cat. he instantly pins his ears back. how dare you. “hmm?”

— “so i took our snail for a walk and i had accidentally left my feet here to wash the dishes because the grass was blue.”

— huh? you could see him trying to process everything you just said as you explained, his lips parting and eyebrows furrowing. it took everything in you not to laugh. he does one of those blinks, the really delayed ones, one eye opens before the other…

— he’s half asleep too so the confusion is just adding up altogether. if chicken scratch wasn’t a writing term, this is literally it in words. its like the books back at home he picks up to read (derogatory) its, what, 4 am? dont do this to him😭

— you’ve never seen him so expressive💀 this definitely makes his eye and ear twitch at the same time. what type of fucked up fever dream is this?? its usually a blessing seeing you as the first thing he wakes up to, not when you wake him up with some bull strung up in a sentence with your beady eyes staring at him while he sleeps. he loves you, yes, but what does he even say to this…

— “what…”

— your forehead met with his chest as you struggled not to laugh at the uncharacteristic break in leona��s voice. how many cups of coffee did you drink? he asks you to repeat yourself even though it kinda a mind mush decision so you did and by the end of it, he looks absolutely restless.

— “that’s… yes. that’s great, herbivore. can we go to bed now?”

— you note that leona is surprisingly patient when half asleep

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

JACK HOWL

— deep sleeper. tug his ear. though he practically springs up before your hand makes contact, giving himself whiplash.

— “jack?”

— almost instantly relaxes when he realizes its you, tail wagging subtly☹️ “hi, baby. s’something wrong?”

— “hiii, do you remember a year ahead ago when i had to go to the dentist to get my spine fixed and the cats were barking at the flying dogs because the sky was in the water?”

— bro feels like he just had a stroke💀 he’s blinking rapidly, rubbing nose bridge as you explain. he really wants to understand, he does, but wtf did you just say??? it was the innocent “hi” before you unapologetically bashed his head in with the entire dictionary. its so ridiculous he couldn’t help but laugh.

— “jack, this is serious.” even as you told him that, your voice was not steady at all which made his shoulders shake violently in silent laughter.

— “im listening, i swear. tell me one more time?” yk his ass is not listening. he pulls you into his lap while his thumbs idly rubbed your sides, responding to your stories with “uh-huh” and “yeah?” with a lovesick smile on his face.

— eventually holds your face and starts pressing heart squeezing, fluffy kisses all over your face which truly made you more tired then you were. you honestly start forgetting what and where the story was going.

— jack only pauses his kissing attack to respond when you take a small break but even then he doesn’t pull away fully, he’s just speaking against your skin

— “—and the duck had my arm while i was taking it on a walk because gran tammy was in a flying shopping cart.”

— “oh wow. and then?”

— he’s listening but he’s not, mostly because he’s like two seconds away from dreamland and his brain isn’t registering half the shit you’re saying. he wants to see how many stories you can jumble up.

— “yeah, i think it’s bedtime for us…”

┏━━━━━━ ━ ─ ╴⋯ ⟢

RUGGIE BUCCHI

— omfg he wakes up like a mom. like yk how you would barely touch them and they would gasp like they were just given cpr?? he wakes up like that.

— and you’re just standing there awkwardly 👁️👁️

— takes a quick look around before looking at you. “what happened? is it time to wake up leona already?” you shake your head and ruggie flops back, an arm draped over his eyes. “you scared me… come, lay down with me?” he held his free arm out for you and you did take your place cozied up against his side. to your surprise, you did actually scare the living shit out of him from how fast his heart was racing.

— “ruggie, yk i just found out you’re related to turtles, right? and i had to take uncle bobby to the vet to get a dna test because the fish drowned in air.”

— slow roblox turn towards you but instead its his head as he cranes it down to stare at you. you can practically hear the gears in his head turning and you literally could not look at him or you’d blow your cover.🧍🏾

— “i’m sorry,, what the fuck??”

— he’s genuinely confused, asking you questions about your story while his brain tries to put together the pieces. each question he asks, the more its harder to speak in full sentences other than wheezes

— “what are you laughing at, ya little shit? explain this to me!”

— “i’m trying!”

— and you are😭 its like when you have to explain the family tree really slow bc you cant say, “my father’s girlfriend’s son” without him like ???? and you’re trying to explain it to him slowly, eventually forgetting what you said in the first place…

— “…and the fish drowned in air.”

— “yes.”

— “sweetheart, you still haven’t explained how i’m related to turtles—”

[rosypenguins]

🖤Glass Hurts (Pt. 2)❤️

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Synopsis: Drew gets a call from Liam, who confronts him about what happened between him and Jake.

A/N: Part Two! Drew finally gets a break. Also this is like my first time writing Liam-

Contains Swearing, and Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts.

*+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+ *+

Drew opened his eyes when he heard his phone buzz, and slowly, he lifted his head. When did he fall asleep?

He looked around, and found himself curled up on the floor, with broken glass scattered nearby.

…He’d have to clean that up at some point.

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, only to see it was Liam who was calling him. He declined it a moment later, and returned to his lock screen.

It’s almost 11:00pm… Why’s Liam even awake right now?

Drew rubbed at his swollen eyes, and as he picked himself off the ground, he felt his phone buzz again. It was Liam, again. Drew declined it.

As he sat down in his bed, he noticed Liam had messaged him.

Liam: Drew answer ur phone ik ur not busy rn

Liam: And ik ur ass wasnt asleep either

Drew: I don’t want to talk rn

Liam: Please

Liam: Im gonna spam u if you dont answr me

Drew: Kys

Liam called him a third time, and with a heavy groan, Drew answered.

“What the hell do you want, Liam?” Drew asked, his voice a bit raspy.

“Finally. Christ, Drew-”

“Can you answer my fucking question? Or are you just here to waste my time?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. What’s oh so important to you right now that I’m distracting you from?” Drew took a moment to respond.

“Sleeping.”

“You were not sleeping.”

“Yeah, I was. Until you woke me up.”

“Fine. But I’ll bet, like, 10 bucks your ass was not in bed.”

…

“That doesn’t matter-”

“God-”

“If this is all you’re gonna talk about, I’m going back to bed.”

“Wait-” Drew could hear Liam sigh on the other end of the phone. “I just… wanted to talk to you.”

“About?”

“You know what.” Drew thought for a moment, but before he could make a guess, Liam answered for him. “What happened last Friday.”

Drew felt the lump in his throat return when he heard those words.

“What about it?” He asked, trying to keep his voice steady. Liam didn’t need to know how it was affecting him.

“Look, Henry and I both know you’re not doing okay-”

“I’m fine, Liam.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that over this weekend? When we kept asking you if you were okay?”

“I was busy-”

“You weren’t busy, Drew. I know you weren’t.”

“You don’t know shit, Liam.”

“I know you.” Liam countered. “And I know that you’d never be too busy to text back.” Drew didn’t have a response, and he could hear Liam sigh again.

“Look, I know you’re not doing okay. And… that’s okay. I just… if you want to talk about it, I’m here-”

“I told you I’m fine!” Drew snapped, his voice cracking on his words. “There’s nothing for me to talk about.” Liam didn’t say anything, and Drew continued. “I don’t care that he lied to us. I didn’t need him. We didn’t need him.”

“…Are you crying?” Drew felt his cheek.

…Dammit.

“Fuck you, Liam! I’m not crying!”

“It’s okay to-”

“No, it’s not!” Drew shouted, using his hand to wipe his tears. How did he even still have tears to cry at this point?

“I’m not supposed to be crying! He sure as hell isn’t right now, so why should-” A sob cut him off before he could finish, and the tears were falling fast once more. Liam didn’t comment on it.

“God, I’m such an idiot, Liam! He lied to us for three years, and I was too blind to realize! I really thought he cared about me…” Drew sniffed, resting his palm against his forehead. “But the only thing he ever cared about was himself. He lied to all of us!”

…

“And now, he’s off living his best life with those fucking freaks while I’m just…” He trailed off, wiping at his eyes. “Am I just supposed to accept this?!”

The words began spilling out before he could think them through. In the back of his mind, he knew he’d regret this, but at that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I don’t know why this keeps happening to me, Liam! First I find out my girlfriend been cheating, then I find out my…” He paused, his breath hitching. “Then I find out he never gave a damn about me…” He finished. “What am I doing wrong, Liam?”

“You’re not doing anything wrong-”

“Then why does this keep happening?! I thought I did everything right! I-I did do everything right! Why wasn’t it enough? Why am I just never enough for anyone?! Why can’t anyone just stay for once?!”

Liam said something. Something Drew failed to register.

“Probably be better if I was just dead, huh? Wouldn’t have to deal with all this bullshit if I was…” He could feel his stomach turn as the words left his mouth. That sounded a lot worse than it did in his head. “God, I sound so-”

“I’m coming over.”

Drew paused, and from the other end of the call, he could hear Liam’s door creak.

“…What?”

“I’m coming over. I don’t care what you say.”

“Liam, you can’t just-!”

“Drew, I’m already outside. I’m coming over.”

“Liam, I swear to-” He could hear a car door open, followed by the sound of an old engine turning on. “Are you stealing your mom’s car again?”

“Yep.”

“What the fuck?”

“I’m not leaving you alone like this, Drew. I’d be a shit friend if I did.”

“God, Liam. I’m fine-”

“I’m already driving.”

“You’re fucking insane.”

“I know. I’ll be there in like… 15-ish minutes.”

“Liam-”

Liam hung up, and Drew sighed, an odd feeling forming in his stomach as he rolled onto his back, staring at his ceiling.

What the hell was wrong with that man?

*+*+*

Sure enough, after 15 minutes, Drew heard his doorbell ring, and he managed to drag himself out of bed to answer the door. As expected, Liam stood on the other side. He was dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, and despite his eyes looking a little heavy, he still had a dumb grin plastered on his face.

“Hey bitch-” Liam paused when he noticed Drew’s hand, his smile fading almost immediately. “Holy shit! What the hell did you do to your hand?!” Drew glanced down at it, finally remembering the shards of glass still stuck in his knuckle.

“Oh… that. I broke a mirror.”

“How did you-“ Liam paused, realizing the answer to his own question. “Uhm… okay. Do you have, like, a first-aid kit or something?”

Drew’s heart nearly stopped for a moment, an old memory drifting to mind:

“I’m helping you. Now where’s your first-aid kit?”

“…Downstairs bathroom. The left one.” Drew responded, taking a breath to ground himself. Liam nodded, and took hold his sleeve before practically dragging him off to that very room, sitting him down on the rim of the tub.

“Why are you so obsessed with helping me?” Drew had asked, and a pair of caramel eyes had turned to face him. Soft lips curved into a gentle smile, before uttering a simple phase:

“Because you’re my best friend, and that’s what best friends do.”

Liam flicked on the lights, which caught Drew off guard. He squinted, then blinked a few times until his eyes adjusted.

He noticed Liam open the cabinets under the sink, pulling out the first-aid kit a moment later. He set it on the counter, opening it up and staring at the contents.

“Okay. So I’ve never actually done anything like this before. But, I’ve played Operation, like, twice? So I’m basically an expert.” Drew could feel a small hint of a smile appear on his face, but it was gone less than a moment later.

“Worst case scenario, you kill me.” Drew mumbled, and Liam frowned before directing his attention to the first-aid kit, pulling out a pair of tweezers.

“I’ll try not to. Just… hold your hand still, okay?” Drew nodded, and Liam knelt down beside him, taking Drew’s injured hand in his. He let out a small breath, and after a moment of hesitation, he began picking out the glass from his palm.

Drew wasn’t sure if he should be concerned by how little it stung. His hand only twitched occasionally when Liam had to pry the larger shards out. But before he knew it, Liam was done.

“There. Now… uh… I think I need to get the blood off…” Liam trailed off as he turned back to the kit, setting the tweezers down and pulling out a small cloth. He turned on the water faucet, and ran it underneath for a few seconds before ringing it out and returning to Drew’s side. And without a word, he began cleaning the dried blood from Drew’s hand.

Drew watched him as he did so, and seeing Liam in such a focused state felt… almost out of character for him. Drew was so used to seeing him and Henry goofing off together during class.

…And his mind began to wander, reflecting on the bond Liam and Henry shared. They’d been through so much together, yet always had one another to fall back to.

…Drew couldn’t say the same for himself anymore.

Liam glanced up at him once he’d finished, and their eyes met for a moment before Drew turned his gaze away. Liam didn’t comment on it, and instead grabbed a few bandages from the kit, wrapping each one carefully around his fingers.

“Alright. Your medical bill’s gonna be… about 20-K.” Liam joked once he’d finished, and Drew rolled his eyes.

“You realize that’s basically nothing to me, right?”

“Okay, then 2,000-K.” Liam countered.

“2,000-thousand?”

“Yes.”

“You’re a fucking idiot-”

“That's really how you’re gonna talk to your doctor?” Liam asked, extending a hand towards him. Drew took it, and Liam helped him to his feet. “Come on. Let’s go back upstairs.”

Drew gave a small nod in response, and followed Liam back to his bedroom, his gaze lowering to the ground as they entered. He knew Liam would notice the mirror, and Drew was not in the mood to acknowledge it.

“Yikes.” Liam whispered, and Drew broke away from him, sitting down on his bed.

“How long were you gonna stay for?” He asked, switching the subject before Liam could ask further about the mirror.

“Uhh… to be honest, I didn’t really think about that.” Drew rolled his eyes.

“Of course you didn’t.” He mumbled, too quiet for Liam to hear.

“I guess I can stay for however long you want me to.”

“I don’t really care.” He said, laying down on his back. After a moment, Liam joined him.

“Then… Can I stay the night?” He asked.

“Won’t you get grounded?”

“Not if I get back before they notice.”

“Fine, whatever. Your grave, not mine.” Liam smiled, and Drew rolled over to face him.

And although he’d never admit it, he couldn’t help but feel grateful for Liam’s presence.

It was nice… not being alone for once.

…He wasn’t quite sure what he was doing when he shifted himself closer. He didn’t know why he decided to rest his head on Liam’s shoulder, but at this point, he was far too drained to question it.

He could feel Liam’s arms slide around his torso, pulling him against his chest. Drew let out a hum of surprise, his body tensing for a moment before he practically melted into Liam’s embrace.

And for the first time that day, Jake was no longer on his mind.

Right now, it was just him and Liam.

And Liam wasn’t going to leave him…

Slowly, Drew’s eyes began to close, and eventually, he fell asleep to the sound of Liam’s heart.

[hairstevington]

if you’re still taking steddie requests could i request something based on the song the marriage of bigfoot and mothman by the forgetmenauts? (super fucking steddie coded if u haven’t heard it btw) (also if u dont want to no worries!)

IT IS FINALLY FINISHED!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This request is from March and I've been writing it off and on since then. Thank you for being patient and I hope you like this absolute chaos of a fic. I wrote it on my most unhinged of days. Enjoy!

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The Marriage of Bigfoot and Mothman | (Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington)

Summary: Eddie and Steve are reunited four years after the final battle with Vecna. They're still madly in love, but Eddie is a little different now. Steve doesn't care, and they both decide to run away together. Meanwhile, Deputy Carver is on their tail...

Word Count: 6.2K

Warnings: Kas!Eddie (kind of not really), pretty much all characters make an appearance, this story is bonkers, no smut whatsoever, sticks to canon except Eddie and Steve were in love, some angst but with a happily ever after, mentions of homophobia/ACAB, everyone highkey gaslights Jason, based on the song from the ask (go listen to it first for context!)

(Ao3 link here )

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1990: Hawkins, Indiana

“We’ve got a situation.”

Deputy Jason Carver sat in his brand new police car. His freshly promoted status had him feeling high and mighty, and he was ready to crack down on the crime of his small, boring town. 

Well, it was usually boring, but today? Today he had a surefire way to utilize his new power. 

“What’s up?” his partner asked. Andy had joined the force pretty much just to be his friend’s partner. It started off as a joke and then became real. Deputy Carver took his work very seriously, while Andy…less so.

To be honest, it kind of pissed Carver off. All the buddy-comedies they’d watched together? Turned out, not realistic. 

"I'll give it to you straight," said the Deputy, gritting his teeth. “I was minding my business, driving through town, and I saw that Freak, Eddie Munson.”

“No way,” Andy responded, sitting up straight. He was fully invested now. “I haven’t seen that guy since -”

“Exactly,” Carver responded.

“Are you sure it was him?”

“Unmistakable,” Carver confirmed. “I noticed a car going too goddamn fast, so I followed them, flashed my lights, and told them to pull over. The asshole didn’t. I lost him on the interstate doing 105.”

“Wait, he didn’t pull over?” Andy asked, shocked. “Isn’t that illegal?”

Jason stared at his friend blankly.

“That’s -” he sputtered, at a loss for words. “Oh my god. Yes, it’s illegal.”

“Well, we gotta catch him then!” Andy suggested, pumping his fist. “Let’s go, man!” 

Carver at least appreciated the enthusiasm. He turned the key in the ignition and off they were. To where? He wasn’t sure yet, but he was determined nonetheless. He was the fucking Deputy! He could do this. He could do anything. 

Plus, Eddie was one of the least inconspicuous people on the planet. He was in a giant van, for one. But also -

“There’s one more thing,” the Deputy said as he drove them. He laughed to himself quietly in disbelief. “When he passed me on the right -” He reenacted this dramatically, speaking as if it were a performance. “I saw it wasn’t just Munson. He was driving around with Steve Harrington of all people.”

“Pshhh,” Andy said, shaking his head. “Now you’re lying.”

“Swear to God,” Carver promised. “And the strangest thing of all-”

“Stranger than King Steve riding around town with the Freak?”

“That’s the thing,” Carver responded. “They weren’t just riding around town, they were singing.”

“No way,” Andy said, confused. “Singing what?”

Carver cleared his throat, then echoed the words he’d heard not long ago -

“You'll never take us alive, it's our wedding night

We made our vows in the meadow in the dead of night

I will be his forest, he will be my light.”

Andy stared at the man beside him, who’s eyes were now fixed on the road.

“Dude,” Andy said. “How the hell did you remember all that?”

The Deputy shrugged, shook his head, then spit out the driver’s side window.

“Shit was catchy.”

-

“WOOOOOOOOOO WE’RE FUCKING CRAZYYYYYY!” Steve yelled out the passenger side window of Eddie’s van. Eddie cackled in response, turning the music they were blasting down enough to have a conversation. 

“We’re not crazy, we’re in loooove,” he assured Steve, a gentle smile on his face. He hadn’t been this happy in a long time. 

“I mean, I’m pretty sure for us it’s both,” Steve responded, equally joyous. 

Steve wasn’t wrong. The two of them had reunited only a few weeks ago, after four years apart. Now, they were gathering all of their friends so they could run away together and have a pretend wedding ceremony on a farm (because gay marriage wasn’t legal but there were no laws against living with a really close friend of the same gender forever and always). 

Oh, and Eddie had come back from the dead after the bats got him in the Upside Down, and now he had wings and glowing eyes.

So…that was also unorthodox. Let’s dive into some context.

-

1981: Hawkins, Indiana

It was the first day of Steve’s freshman year and Eddie’s sophomore year. Steve was fourteen, and Eddie was fifteen. 

Steve had what parents and faculty called “potential.” His grades were decent (save for English and History), and he was on track to be on several sports teams. He was friendly with pretty much everybody in the way some kids are, but he didn’t have a solid friend group or even someone he could call a best friend.

Eddie, on the other hand, was a nobody. He was just a kid who blended in among the others, and he liked it that way. His uncle, God bless him, called Eddie “eccentric,” but Eddie knew that was just a different way to say “weird.” He excelled in English and History, because he did a lot of reading in his spare time (and he had a lot of spare time, considering he didn’t talk to anyone). He was pretty horrible in math and science, though. And generally, he hated being in school, so he skipped a lot to hide at this picnic table he’d found in the woods. 

Because he was a shitty student, he had to take Algebra a second time. 

Guess who was in his class?

-

Eddie and Steve would talk to each other every so often in class, but mainly focused on schoolwork. However, they also shared a free period, and since it was Steve’s first time at Hawkins High, he found solace in the familiar face. They worked together sometimes, and eventually had an agreement - Steve helped Eddie with his math homework, Eddie helped Steve with English. 

And then…well, they were kids with confusing feelings about having a friend versus having a crush. But all of it came to a screeching halt, because then Steve met Tommy, and he got a little mean. 

Eddie kind of knew Steve was headed for greatness in the Hawkins High student body, but he didn’t realize he’d jump to the top and leave Eddie in the dust. 

The last time Eddie and Steve saw each other had cemented their fate. They were joking with each other as usual, and then -

“You’re…afraid of the dark?” Steve accused, laughing.

“Well, it’s not - I mean, I wouldn’t say -”

“You’re afraid of the dark.” 

“I’m NOT-”

“Don’t worry, tons of people are the same way. Most of them are waaaaay younger, but-”

“Shut your goddamn mouth or I’ll shut it for you.”

“How are you gonna do that? You gonna kiss me, Munson?”

The following silence was all Steve needed to hear. It confirmed what Steve suspected Eddie was feeling, as well as the way the feelings were reciprocated.

Truthfully, Steve just panicked and reacted poorly. He had to decide - either stick with Eddie, confront something he wasn’t ready to confront, and become a social outcast, or join Tommy’s group of assholes, repress all those feelings, and eventually hook up with a bunch of women and be referred to as a King. Obviously, he chose the latter.

Eddie, for the record, ran from it all, too. He decided to embrace his anger and pain and give people something to hate him for. He was fine with being invisible, until Steve made him feel seen - after that, he was desperate for people to notice him, and he did it in the only way he knew how. Plus, Eddie figured that him being the school freak really pissed Steve off, so that was something. But Eddie found friends between music and Hellfire Club and drugs, and he felt pretty alright. 

They didn’t talk to each other for five years. 

-

1986: Hawkins, Indiana

Ah, yes. The typical way all estranged friends reunite - Person A throwing Person B against the wall of a boathouse and threatening him with a broken bottle to the neck, after Person A disappeared due to being suspected in the brutal murder of a fellow classmate. 

A meet-cute of sorts.

Eddie admittedly hadn’t even noticed who it was he was threatening due to being in a blind panic. He felt himself getting feral, but after the shit he’d seen, no one could blame him. 

Dustin’s voice calmed him down enough to recognize the man he'd pinned. 

“You,” Eddie said softly. 

“Hi, yeah, it’s me,” Steve replied nervously. Eddie let up and backed away. 

The next few days were terrible and stressful and filled with horrors Eddie never could have imagined he’d face. But any time he had a moment with Steve, it was like none of that mattered. 

The world was ending, and people were dying. Eddie would have been lying to himself if he said he hadn’t thought about Steve all the goddamn time, and now who knew how much time they had left?

Steve clearly felt it too, because when the group realized they’d have to hide Eddie somewhere he wouldn’t be found, Steve insisted he stay with him. Nobody questioned it, each going off their different adventures, connected by a walkie talkie. 

So, Eddie and Steve spent hours alone together, and they got to talking pretty fast. Confessions and apologies spilled out of them before either of them realized it was happening. By the time the others returned, the two of them had already processed and forgiven each other for what had happened when they were kids, AND admitted they had non-friendly feelings.

“Holy mother of chest-hair, Batman!” Eddie exclaimed after Steve took off his shirt.

“Not really the reaction I wanted, but okay,” Steve muttered. Eddie laughed, then took a step closer. 

“Sorry, I just - I’ve seen you shirtless before in the locker room and stuff, and you didn’t have aaaaall of this.” Eddie ran his hands against Steve’s chest, prompting Steve to jolt backwards and laugh. 

“Stop, man, that tickles!” he exclaimed. “And yeah, I stayed pretty hairless back when I was a swimmer.”

“Are you telling me that you were waxed back then?”

“I - well, it was -” Steve sputtered, flustered. “I think we’re going off course, here.” Eddie smirked, then put his hand around the back of Steve’s neck. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the base of Steve’s skull, gripping tightly into a fist. He tugged on it a little to prove a point.

“I like it, you know.” Steve blushed. 

“You do?”

“Yeah,” Eddie confirmed, bringing his lips impossibly close to Steve’s. “It’s like you’re Steve ‘The Hairier’ Harrington.” Steve rolled his eyes and pushed Eddie away. 

“Get away from me, Munson,” Steve teased. “You ruined it.” Eddie just laughed, undeterred. 

“I don’t think I did,” he replied. “In fact, I’m willing to bet that all you’ve ever wanted in your Pretty-Boy life is for someone to accept you for everything you are - excessive hair and all.”

Steve tried to play along and act like he was irritated by all this, but he clearly wasn’t. Especially since Eddie was dead-on. 

“I’m not that hairy,” he insisted. “You’re acting like I’m Bigfoot or something.” Eddie’s face lit up, and Steve immediately backtracked. “No, no. You’re not about to make that a thing.”

“Steve,” Eddie began. “You know how much I love urban legends. You can’t just dangle the most amazing comparison in front of me and expect me not to make it a thing.” Steve groaned. 

“Jesus,” he mumbled. “Why the hell do I still want you so bad?”

“Oh, probably something to do with the deal I made with Satan,” Eddie responded. 

Steve couldn’t restrain himself anymore. His attempt at looking annoyed was wearing off, his glare softening, a smirk emerging across his lips.

“I don't get how you manage to piss me off and turn me on at the same time.” he said.

“It’s a gift.”

“Right,” Steve sighed. He gave into his urges and charged forward, kissing Eddie passionately. 

He’d never felt this way about anyone before.

They spent five days together that week, but it felt like a lot longer than that. They’d become something like boyfriends in that time - although, they were fighting monsters and plotting how to destroy some big evil dude instead of going on dates. Still, they were something. 

After Steve jumped into that lake, and Eddie, Nancy, and Robin saved him from the bats, Eddie tended to Steve’s wounds. They were side by side as long as they possibly could be.

Deciding to split up for the final battle was excruciating, but they both knew it was for the best. Steve had to be with Robin, and Eddie had to be with Dustin, and they all had specific roles to play. 

It hadn’t been long enough to call it love, even though they both felt it. If they’d had more time, their final words to each other could have been something special. Something powerful. Something that conveyed what they meant to each other. 

But they didn’t have that time, so they settled on - 

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Make him pay.”

Steve held up his end of the bargain, but it wasn’t enough. By the time he’d gone back to where they’d left Eddie and Dustin, only one of them was left standing. 

Steve did what any nineteen year old would do in that situation. He repressed it, fully and completely. Barely acknowledged or talked about it. The alternative was too painful to accept. 

And then, he started aimlessly searching for something else to focus on. He spent a lot of time driving around. Dustin had a girlfriend in Utah, so that gave Steve a good excuse to skip town every so often. He’d drive around the country, bit by bit, never quite finding what he was looking for. 

-

1990:

Four years came and went. The kids graduated high school and were getting ready for college. Robin was about to get her degree. Steve had been spending a lot of time at her university, but he didn’t quite fit there either. 

Hawkins became boring again, and Steve decided once everyone was grown-up and scattered that he would never go back. 

He drove all the way to California. 

One of the gas stations had a newspaper that caught his eye - Mothman sightings. Something blurry in the sky that no one could ever follow or get a decent picture of. Steve’s heart sank as his mind betrayed him, shattering the strict rule he’d lived by for years. 

Eddie would’ve loved this.

Damn. That was a buzzkill. 

“You hear about the Mothman thing?” the guy at the register asked. Steve looked up, less than enthused to have this conversation. He shook his head. “Wild stuff. People are seeing him everywhere. Around this area, actually. Business has never been this good.” The man laughed, and Steve realized he must be the owner or something. 

Steve had been wondering why there were so many people in town he’d never heard of before, when the beach was hours away. 

Steve mumbled some sort of response and took off, cursing his inability to find a private place nearby. He drove around the town, but all the spots he deemed worthy of a breakdown were occupied. 

He parked next to the woods, then wandered in and walked as far as his legs carried him. He spotted a dark cave and headed inside, a dire need to be invisible. 

Then, he screamed and punched the cave wall, hurting his hand so badly he screamed again. 

“Dammit!” he yelled, crashing to the floor. 

It was pitch black in there. Almost as if he were in another world, or perhaps in no world at all. It was kind of peaceful, in that way. 

“You good?”

Steve jumped up faster than he’d ever moved before upon hearing a second voice. 

“Jesus Christ!” he yelled. “Who - I - sorry, I thought I was alone in here.”

“Yeah, clearly,” they replied. 

The voice was so similar to Eddie’s that Steve couldn’t bear it.

“Sorry, you were here first so I’ll go,” Steve said, turning toward the lightened exit. 

“You could stay.”

Steve shook his head, knowing the other person in there couldn’t possibly see it. 

“No, I - Look, I know this won’t mean anything to you, but I’m having a shit day - well, a shit life, honestly, and you sound a lot like someone I’m trying not to think about so -”

“Steve,” the voice said, sending a chill down his spine. “It’s me.”

“Shit,” Steve muttered. “Great. Now I’m hearing things. This conversation probably isn’t even happening, right?”

“How the hell did you even find me? No one else can,” the voice continued. 

“Would you shut up?” Steve asked, irritated. “You’re not - I’m going insane. I gotta get out of here.” He took a step forward, but was pulled back by the wrist.

“Wait,” the voice beckoned. “You don’t get it. You found me. Were you looking for me?”

“Dude, what is this?” Steve replied, tugging his hand free. “Some messed up game of hide and seek? I was just looking for somewhere to be alone, and I found this place by accident, and I’m not even alone here, so I’m going.”

“Jesus Christ, Steve,” the voice said. “It’s me, okay? It’s Eddie. I didn’t die when I was in the Upside Down - or, well, I did, but then I came back or something, and now I’m here, and you found me on accident. Like, that’s got to mean something, right?”

Steve’s head was spinning.

“What?!” he exclaimed. “I - no, that’s impossible. Why wouldn’t you have - I mean, it’s been years, and he would have - we would have known. No, this is bullshit.”

“Iiiit’s not,” the voice responded. Steve scoffed.

“Let me see you, then.”

There was a long, tense silence. 

“I look different.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, me too,” he said. “Come on, I gotta see you or I’ll go insane.” The alleged “Eddie” sighed.

“Fine, but before we go out there, let me give you a little sneak peek.”

Suddenly, Steve was face to face with two glowing red eyes. 

“Jesus!” he yelled, jumping back. “What? I - what?!”

“Yeah, I know, how do you think I feel?” the voice responded. “Glowing eyes and big wings, now. I wish I was kidding.”

Steve had seen his fair share of shit at this point. He’d seen all kinds of monsters. He’d been in alternate dimensions. There was a world in which this person (person?) was telling the truth. 

Which would mean Steve had Eddie back. 

Hope flickered in his chest for the first time. Screw the wings. Screw the eyes. He walked toward the light and waited for footsteps behind him, but heard none. He stopped and spun around. 

“Come on,” he said. “Follow me. Please. I don’t care what you look like.”

“You say that now -”

“Yeah, and I mean it,” Steve insisted. “If you’re really - if it’s really you, then I don’t give a shit about the eyes or wings or horns or whatever the hell else you got going on, because I’ve - God, I’ve missed you more than anything, so just step out of this goddamn cave or I’ll carry you out there myself.”

Steve wasn’t usually one to find random dark caves and spill his guts to disembodied voices that claimed to be his ex, but there’s a first time for everything. He realized as he was speaking that he’d already decided to believe what he was hearing was true - which meant that if he was wrong, he’d be crushed.

But that didn’t matter. He’d been crushed before. 

“I actually don’t have horns,” the voice said. 

“What?” Steve asked, baffled as to why that was relevant. “Yes, you do. I saw the pictures in the paper -”

“I bought fake ones at a Halloween store,” the voice explained. “Which - now that I’m saying it out loud, makes no sense, but I’ve been by myself for like five years now and I kind of have this thing for being dramatic -”

“Jesus Christ it really is you,” Steve mumbled.

“That’s what convinced you?” Eddie asked, chuckling.

“Well, yeah,” Steve replied. “Nobody else would do that.”

“Fair enough.”

“Wait, have you been keeping your eyes closed this whole time so that I wouldn’t freak out?”

“Maybe.”

Steve smiled in the darkness, amazed at how naturally their banter came back. 

“That’s dumb,” he said. Suddenly, the red eyes were back. Upon second inspection, they weren’t really that crazy. Then, Steve felt a hand grasp his, and that was it - the final confirmation he needed. He knew from one moment of physical contact that this was real. 

He had Eddie back.

Together, the two of them walked out of the darkness.

-

Steve stared at Eddie for quite some time, analyzing his new look. 

“Could you please for the love of god say something,” Eddie begged. “I can fly and see in the dark, but I can't read minds.”

He still had a humanoid figure. His face was the same as it had always been, save for the eyes (which, by the way, looked a lot less intense in the light). The wings were new, but they were only visible when Eddie wanted them to be. 

“Okay,” Steve said with a nod. “I’m thinking I can work with this.”

“Seriously?” Eddie asked, surprised.

“Yeah,” Steve insisted. “Bigfoot and Mothman. It’s kind of perfect, right?”

“Bigfoot and Mothman,” Eddie repeated, grinning. “Jesus H. Christ, I love you.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide as soon as the words were out of his mouth.

“Shit,” he said, immediately terrified. “I mean - I didn’t mean to say that. If we could just pretend like that didn’t happen, that would be great.” Steve smirked. He’d spent a lot of his life pretending, and he had no interest in repeating those mistakes.

“So, you don’t love me?” he teased, taking a step forward. 

“My answer depends on whether or not you love me,” Eddie replied. Steve took his hand again and squeezed.

“I do,” he admitted. “Always have. Your move, Munson.”

Eddie kissed him instead of answering, but there was no doubt in either mind that what they were about to embark on was something major - for both of them. 

“This is -” Eddie began after they separated. “This is crazy, right? Like, the world already feels weird about two dudes running away together, let alone one dude and one half-dude half fucking moth.”

“I could go crazier,” Steve said. 

“What do you mean?”

Steve took a deep breath. The world had never been that kind to him, but it had given him this, and he wasn’t about to waste a single moment. He’d been running so long, and Eddie had been hiding, and neither of them should have had to live like that anymore.

“I mean, I - I’ve always wanted to ride around like I have been, but I never wanted to do it alone,” Steve explained. Eddie’s face shifted into recognition.

“Six little nuggets in a Winnebago, right?”

“You remembered,” Steve replied with a smile.

“Of course I do.”

Fuck it. Eddie was his soulmate. It didn’t matter that there were a lot of factors against them - if they were in it together, everything would be okay.

“The nuggets are all over the country,” Steve said, referring to the kids who weren’t even kids anymore. 

“Well then,” Eddie responded, smiling. “If you think they’ll be as cool about this as you are, I say let’s go grab ‘em.”

They spent the next few weeks traveling the country and rallying up their friends. They’d had the same conversation over and over again - Eddie’s alive? He looks like that? You guys are gay? You’re running away to a farm together???

Whatever. It was crazy and it was amazing.

Dustin was so relieved that Eddie was alive, he didn’t care about the gay thing or the fact he could fly. Eddie and Steve asked Dustin to be their best man, and he burst into tears of joy.

Lucas called out how insane the whole thing was, but accepted it nonetheless.

El was confused, but supportive.

Max literally couldn’t give less of a shit about any of it, but was glad they were happy. 

Mike short-circuited at first, but idolized Eddie so much he accepted the situation pretty quick. 

Will was unfazed and over the moon for them. 

Robin was ultimately just upset that Dustin was going to be best man and not her. Naturally, they donned her Maid of Honor, and then she was good to go.

Jonathan was chill about it. Eddie being a demon weirded him out a little, though.

Nancy was the one with the most reservations, but mainly she was concerned for their safety. Eddie and Steve assured her that they would be in the middle of nowhere, and that Eddie’s freaky appearance would keep them safe just fine. Since everyone else was on board, Nancy shrugged and said of course she would be there.

Wayne, like Dustin, was mainly just blown away by Eddie being alive. The rest of it was irrelevant to him. 

Joyce was baffled by the whole thing, but since her children were okay with it, she was too.

Hopper just kind of grunted in approval and said nothing else.

Now, everyone was meeting up at the predetermined location - a homestead that used to be owned by one of Steve’s relatives. It happened to be for sale, so they bought it. 

Off they went to their new home. 

-

Jason and Andy had spent all day tracking and following Eddie’s van. It was slow going at first, until a concerned citizen called the local police station to report a two men raiding a gift shop. Her story was nearly discounted at first because she’d mentioned one of the men had wings, but…

Well, honestly? Jason had caught a glimpse of those, too. But it had been so quick he convinced himself he was mistaken. He convinced himself the concerned citizen had been, too. Wings? On a dead man? Preposterous. 

Anyway, they chased that lead and ended up locating the van at the gift shop, and - sure enough - Eddie and Steve were walking out. 

Hand in fucking hand. 

“Oh, sweet lord,” Jason muttered. 

“Look at all the shit they stole!” Andy exclaimed, pointing at their loaded trunk. 

“I don’t care about the shoplifting,” Jason snapped back angrily. “Look at them! They’re - they’re - they’re holding hands!” 

“Dude, who cares if they’re gay,” Andy replied. “We’re supposed to look out for crimes.”

Jason stared at his friend, wanting to argue, then realized he couldn’t. He grumbled, then got out of the car to confront the pair. 

“Don’t move!” he shouted, prompting Eddie and Steve to turn to them. Jason was giddy in anticipation of reciting the Miranda Rights - he’d always reveled in that part of the job. 

“Jason?” Eddie asked, not at all intimidated. “You’re a pig, now? Thaaaaat seems about right.”

“Shut up,” Jason shot back. “You’re supposed to be dead, Freak.”

“I’m pretty sure I’ve just been missing, actually,” Eddie clarified. 

“Well, I found you,” Jason said, raising his gun. He thought for sure it would cause Eddie to back off, but he didn’t. 

“Ooh, Big Boy Carver’s got a gun,” Eddie mocked. 

“Eds, let’s maybe take a step back,” Steve said softly. At least one of them had a sense of respect for authority. 

“Jace,” Andy said, tugging at the Deputy’s shirt sleeve. 

“Dude, whatever it is I’m kind of busy,” Jason replied through gritted teeth, unwilling to look away from the boys. 

“They’re stealing our car.”

That was worth breaking his gaze, for sure. When Jason turned - sure enough, their cop car was driving away without them. Some red-headed teen was behind the wheel, with a curly-haired guy beside her in the passenger's seat. 

Jason turned back to see Eddie and Steve had jumped into the van and were attempting to drive away. 

“Hey, what do you think you’re -”

Jason tried to shoot at the tires, but he couldn’t move. He was completely frozen, but not out of fear or hesitation - this was something out of his control completely.

He was forced to stand and watch the van speed away, his own police car not far behind them. 

Shit.

-

“WE’RE THE FREEEEAAKS!” Eddie cheered as they sped away. Steve laughed, relieved that they’d had backup or else they never would have gotten away. 

“Thanks, Jane,” Steve said, high fiving the girl in the back seat.

“You are welcome,” she replied with a smile, wiping a drop of blood from under her nose. 

“Holy shit, that was AWESOME,” Dustin’s voice said through the walkie talkie. 

“I’ve never stolen a cop car before,” Max added. “Huh.”

“Don’t make a habit out of it, alright?” Steve warned, ever protective of the kids. 

“Yes, mom,” she replied. 

They were all meeting at the homestead in groups - Eddie and Steve were originally transporting Robin, Max, Jane, and Dustin, but Max and Dustin ended up making a snap decision to save their asses. The adults - Joyce, Hopper, and Wayne - were meeting them in a separate car. Nancy, Jonathan, Mike, and Will were another group. Lucas was showing up by himself, as he was just coming back from London. 

“Okay, well that was cool and all,” Robin interjected. “But you do realize that cop cars can be tracked a whole lot easier than this van, right?”

“Is that true?” Steve asked.

“I dunno, but she said it pretty confidently,” Eddie responded. “Sounds right.”

“So…we ditch the cop car and consolidate,” Max suggested. “Then meet at the farm as planned.”

“They’d still find us eventually,” Dustin argued. 

“Not with me driving.”

“Chill out, Mad Max.”

“GUYS!” Steve interrupted. “They’re gaining on us.”

Everyone looked in the rear view mirror to see the cops on their trail. The Deputy led the pack with intense anger in his eyes, desperately attempting to catch up. 

“I can keep them away,” Jane offered. “I will protect you.”

“El,” Dustin said. “Not that I didn’t love seeing you flip that van to save us last time, but we probably shouldn’t murder anyone today.”

“Her name is Jane,” Max reminded him. 

“Shit, sorry.”

“No murder?” Eddie whined with a fake pout. “But it’s my wedding day!” 

“Eddie, could you take this seriously, please?” Steve pleaded, starting to feel nervous. 

“Relax, I’ve got a plan,” he responded, cool as a cucumber. “But everyone’s gonna have to play along.”

Well, this could only end well.

-

Jason and Andy followed the group all the way to the middle of nowhere. It was some barren farmland that hadn’t been cared for in ages. The only thing that seemed somewhat new was the “Sold” sign out front. 

For the last hour or so, Eddie and Steve hadn’t tried a single thing to get away. They’d led the cops right to the farm, which was…suspicious. 

The Deputy was more than prepared to shoot this time if he had to. Clearly, this was a trap, and he wasn’t falling for it. 

“Be ready for anything,” Jason said as he parked the car and stepped out.

“Got it,” Andy replied, actually serious for once. They walked together slowly towards the main house, their hands on their holsters for good measure. 

“Heeeelp!” a woman’s voice called from behind the house. 

“We are just poor damsels in distress! Please someone save us!” Jason shifted his attention to the vulnerable ladies who needed his assistance and ran toward their cries. Once he got there, they stopped yelling, and he realized neither of them were in any danger. 

Two women, one a little older than the other. Jason thought he recognized her from the school band, way back when, but he wasn’t sure. The other one…

“Wait, aren’t you the girl who stole my car?” he asked. 

“Sure did,” the red-head admitted with a smirk. “Stole these, too.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out Jason’s favorite pair of sunglasses.

“Hey, give those back,” he said, outstretching his hand. 

“What are you gonna do if I don’t? Shoot me?” she teased. “I know a good lawyer.” Jason sneered as she put the glasses on herself, smug. Jason was about ready to scold her, but instead heard more voices, now at the front of the house. 

“Hey, look!”

“Over here!”

“Forget the sunglasses,” Andy said. “Come on, let’s go.” Jason (begrudgingly) followed his partner around the house, only to find two teenage guys waiting for them, also not in danger. He recognized them, too. 

“Hey, wait a minute,” Jason said. “I know you. You were in that club - Hellfire Club. With -” 

Jason’s eyes widened. Holy shit. He was uncovering a whole conspiracy.

“That’s correct,” the curly-haired one replied. “I’m Dustin, this is Mike.”

“Hello!” Mike said with a goofy smile. 

“You were right this whole time,” Dustin said calmly.

“We’ve sold our souls and live to serve our master,” Mike added. 

“Eddie,” Dustin clarified. 

“Wait, what?” Jason asked. “Okay, everyone here is insane. Andy, let’s call for backup.”

“Hey, Jason.”

Oh, great. A new voice. Jason turned around yet again to find -

“Lucas….Sinclair???” 

Okay, wow. Lucas had been on the basketball team with Jason back in high school. He was one of Hawkins’ biggest success stories, because he went on to play pro and make it big. 

“Nice to see you again,” Lucas said. 

“It’s - what are you doing here?” Jason asked, his head spinning. 

“Oh my god,” Andy muttered. “Dude, Lucas made a deal with the devil! That’s why he made it and you didn’t.”

“Andy, shh!” Jason didn’t like people to know that he’d worked very hard to be a professional athlete, because he didn’t want anyone to know he’d failed miserably.

“Yup,” Lucas confirmed. “You got me. The only reason I am where I am today and you aren’t is because of Satan.” Mike and Dustin stifled giggles behind him. 

Jason couldn’t lie - having Satan to blame was kinda nice. 

And then, Jason and Andy heard the front door of the house open, and looked to see a man walk out. Jason’s blood went cold.

“...Chief Hopper?” he asked, astounded. “But you - the mall fire…”

It had been front page news. Local Sheriff Jim Hopper died in the Starcourt fire. First Eddie, now him? What the hell was going on?

“Congratulations on your promotion,” Hopper said casually. 

“Thanks,” Jason replied, dazed. “But you -”

“Yes, yes, I did,” Hopper continued, looking mournfully at the ground. “We’re all dead, here.”

A teenage boy walked out of the house next, one that Jason recognized immediately.

“Will Byers…” he muttered. Will had also been a top story - the kid that got lost in the woods, pronounced dead, and then came back like nothing had happened. “Wait, you’re saying that you - that you both died?”

“Yeah, that’s what we’re saying,” Will replied with a nod. 

“But you aged!” Jason argued. 

“Uh, yeah,” Will said with a shrug. “We can do that.”

That didn’t sound right, but Jason nodded anyway. None of this made sense. Was he dreaming?

“Nah nah nah,” Andy said, backing up. “I draw the line at ghost children. I’m out.”

“Andy…” Jason said with a sigh, but it was too late - his friend was already halfway to the car.

“Okay, so what you’re all saying is…” Jason began, attempting to recap what he’d been told. “You both are dead,” he said, pointing at Hopper and Will. He directed his attention to the girls and boys next. “And you all are part of a cult that worships…Eddie Munson.”

Everybody looked at him and shrugged. 

“What about Steve?” Jason asked. 

“Fresh blood,” Mike explained. 

“Okay, so where is Eddie, then?”

“Right here.”

Jason looked up to see Eddie perched on the roof in all his glory - arms outstretched, wings on display, red eyes glowing. 

“Jesus Christ!” Jason exclaimed. “Andy! Call -”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t do that,” Eddie warned. He flew (flew!!) off the roof and landed in front of Jason. “What are you gonna do? Tell people what you saw today? Nobody will believe you.” Eddie took another step forward, causing Jason to take a step back. “We’re all gonna stay here, and we won’t bother anyone, so you should probably just go ahead and forget any of this ever happened.”

“I won’t do that,” Jason insisted. “I can - I will -”

“Okay, so you need a little more convincing. No problem,” Eddie said. He outstretched his hand and narrowed his eyes in concentration. 

And then, Jason started floating. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Jason cried out as fought against the invisible force lifting him up. “Let me down! How are you -? Put me down!”

Eddie just shook his head and laughed. 

“Promise to leave us alone,” he said. 

“Fine! Dammit, I promise!” Jason yelled. “I won’t tell anyone! I’ll leave you alone! Just let me go!”

Jason fell back to the ground after that, and then he scrambled to his feet, ran to his car as fast as his legs would carry him, and drove back to Hawkins. 

Him and Andy never told a soul what they’d seen.

-

“Do you, Steve Harrington, take me, Eddie Munson, to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Once the coast was clear, the team worked to create a makeshift venue for the upcoming nuptials. Nancy took over as the lead with Joyce, assigning tasks to everyone. Jonathan set up chairs, the kids took over decorations, and Robin and Dustin got their respective grooms ready for the event. 

Now, everyone was seated on that homestead, watching their two friends have the weirdest wedding ceremony of all time. 

“I do,” Steve said. 

And they all lived happily ever after.

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

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[aclosetfan]

I like to imagine Buttercup has no shame in wearing a dress because she looks good in one. From formal to sundresses, she could be that one chick that shows off her piercings and wear sandals to show off that one ankle tattoo. I think she's confident enough to dress in a liberated sense going off of the show.

I also like "cover up, Buttercup" because it does show how society could affect even a girl of her caliber. It can mirror how soft and vulnerable she really is. She cares what the people think of her, but it only works, if she's genuinely undesirable.

What I don't like is the "not like other girls" label people sometimes put on her. She is exactly like other girls, except she has power and strength to best her enemies.

It rubs me the wrong way because it's inadvertently saying "She's better without trying" and I don't agree.

"She's ugly, but she has a hot body and a pretty face, and all the guys wanna date her and chase her" And then she doesn't wear a dress because she isn't "girly" enough as if anyone would actually care.

I just want some clarity. If the reason Buttercup is ugly is because she's "tough" then I'm going to need some real "ugly" characteristics to go off of like, shes grown into an actual unlikable bitch, or she's so far removed from societal pressure, she picks her nose and spits in public. Shes gotten ocerweight over the years and lost her physique but can somehow still outtrun a man. Shes extremely annoying and loud and doesnt practice the best hygiene so she smells after gym class. She has scars and bruises all over her face from all the fights shes been in.

Not all of this at once, or hell, do all of it at once!

And, I dont care that people make her attractive. I care that it's overplayed.

Not saying pretty girls don't get flak, nor am I saying you gotta go the whole mile to make her undesirableness realistic. I'm just calling the spade a spade.

Being tough isn't enough for her to feel outcasted when she's a HERO. people worship it, Praise her and love her for her bruteness. And if you give her talents, the only haters are jealous girlies who cannot get on her level.

some guy telling her she isn't enough because she'd punch a man and win, shouldn't be enough to make her throw all her skirts away. 10 guys wouldn't if ten fold are still gonna be up her ass crack anyway.

Buttercup is literally flipping her hair and batting her lashes in the cannon series and people are still trying to give her Bunny's backstory.

Truth is, Buttercups the pretty one too, she's just the pretty one who'd knock a bitchs teeth out. Never stopped those types of women before from being oggled at.

Prime example

lol my response is under the cut because I don't want the post to be too long!

I feel like I've gotten a few ask now that critique stories that focus on the superficial aspects of the girls, like if they're described as "pretty" or "ugly." I'm starting to think that the frustration isn't so much that the girls are described as such but because it's just bad writing (a never-ending complaint I have, haha).

The previous anon also discussed Buttercup being either too feminine or masculine, and I just remembered that I hadn't responded. However, I believe she can be as hyper-masculine or feminine as the person using her character wants them to be. It doesn't matter to me as long as her characterization is consistent. Some people connect with Buttercup because she is the more masculine of the three girls, and that's wonderful and amazing. I love how she's become a character people identify with when they're messing around with their gender presentation.

Beauty and gender are all in the eye of the beholder, so what is ugly to one person can obviously be beautiful to the next. It's bad form then that people often use the word "ugly" when Buttercup is presented as "hyper-masculine." There's nothing ugly about being hypermasculine (and also, while I know you didn't mean it this way in your ask, either is being overweight). However, what's truly ugly is how a person presents themselves. A loud, obnoxious, mean-spirited, "bitchy" nose picker is probably going to be an ugly person like you described.

When writers focus so much on describing what a character looks like, especially characters they're writing fanfiction about, they're describing a "person" who the reader already knows what they look like or has their own idea of what the character should look like. Readers don't need to know how pretty someone is or what dress they're wearing if it doesn't lend to the story you're writing, which is really hard for a lot of amateur writers, like myself, because you can see the scene so clearly in your head and want to write it just that way, but giving readers every. single. detail. is actually doing yourself a disservice. Oftentimes, too much description makes the reader mad because "HEY! NO! they look like [xyz]," and then they click out of the fic.

I stay vague when I describe essential features. Like Bubbles has a dimpled smile, or Buttercup's hair is cut short. Maybe even, "Buttercup put on her favorite green sweater." Small shit like that gives readers a clue but still lets them copy/paste their ideas over mine.

But to make readers know "hey people find this person attractive but she doesn't notice," I practice SHOWING not telling. Like, Buttercup walks into a room, Butch observes all eyes are on her, she doesn't notice the attention because it's the same attention she's always dealt with, and because she doesn't pay attention to it, she comes off aloof or "bitchy" from Butch's perspective. How would Butch know any better? He can't read her mind.

That's why writing in other povs and making the character do things is so much more beneficial to their perceived attractiveness than just flat-out telling a reader "trust me, you'd bone her if you had the chance, she's so hot." You get a chance to establish personalities, relationships, and potential conflicts.

Another example is if you h/c Buttercup wears dresses, no other character is going to react to her wearing them. You state, "Buttercup put on her dress." If you want to specify what kind of dress you say, "it was her most comfortable t-shirt dress. She liked it because it had large pockets." Then, boom, that's it. In these instances, describing her appearance is used to convey her personality traits/motives (she likes to dress comfortably. She has a need for large pockets). You're not saying that Buttercup is a "GIRL WHO LIKES DRESSES BECAUSE SHE'S FEMININE, GOT IT?!? BUT SHE STILL KICKS ASS!!" Instead, you're giving yourself the opportunity to explain she likes to collect rocks (??) while also conveying that she likes wearing clothing that people could perceive as "feminine."

If Buttercup is forced to wear a dress that she doesn't want to wear, now, you have a bit of a story to stretch out. Her wearing a dress is odd. People irl would take notice of it, and therefore, you can make a bigger deal about it.

And if you want to show that she's "not like other girls," which I agree is an annoying trope, but I understand some people want to show "feminity" while still preserving their "masculinity," you can do this at the same time you're developing Buttercup's relationships. Example: It is remarked Blossom and Buttercup are both wearing dresses. Blossom and Buttercup both get their dresses dirty. The scene pans to Blossom being frantic about getting the dirt off, bemoaning her appearance. The scene pans to Buttercup, she is shin-deep in a mud pit, stuffing a particularly large bullfrog into her large dress pockets, next to the cool rocks she found.

A scene like that shows that Buttercup likes wearing dresses, but isn't afraid of dirt, rocks, or frogs, as opposed to Blossom, who may be reacting more "appropriately" to their situation, making it clear Buttercup has other priorities ("isn't like other girls" w/out explicitly saying "I'm not like other girls, I like dresses and dirt.").

You mentioned that you like the idea that she'd be confident wearing a dress. Perfect! If she doesn't do it often, and you want to make a bigger deal out of it, you can be like:

Buttercup clicked her tongue as she picked through her closet, pulling out a black halter top dress Bubbles had made her buy two or so years ago. She examined the short number and grinned. When she tried it on, it was a bit tight around her ass, but her arms looked fantastic.

"You're wearing a dress!?" Bubbles gushed walking into the room as Buttercup checked herself out, "What's the occasion!"

"Isn't it obvious?" Buttercup turned around, flexing her arms and shoulders, and they really did look good in that dress, "I got a new tattoo!"

"Oh cool! Is that a bullfrog?" Bubbles asked leaning in to examine Buttercup's upper shoulder.

"On a cool rock!" Buttercup beamed, standing a little prouder, "Badass, right?"

The dress is important to the story. The writer was able to point out she doesn't wear them often, people are surprised when she wears them, she doesn't mind wearing them, how attractive her arms were, the tattoo, and that her ass stretches out the dress, which some people could also find attractive. It doesn't make her seem vain, conceited, or "better" than others. She just knows she looks good.

I mean, I think it gets the job done, and it isn't just a list of what she looks like.

tldr: Essentially, no matter how masculine or feminine you think Buttercup should present, literally, no one cares what she is wearing if it isn't important to the story.

[multistansimp4life]

We lost the summer ch.1

Kai and reader are childhood friends and they have this thing where they make a list of things to do for their summers during the school year. How will this summer end!

(Inspired by kissing booth 3)

“I wilL alwAys love yOu”

“Stop stop no more, please my ears” says the brunette laying on the bed with his ears covered. “Maybe you should put singing lessons on the list” he finishes laughing so hard tears are running down his face. 

“Well im sorry not everybody is as gifted at singing as you are” you replied rolling  your eyes. It was true his voice is one of the most clearest most angelic voices youve ever heard. But your singing was the exact opposite your voice always cracked and you couldnt hit a right not to save your life.  

“But how will we do that together” you asked

The list you were talking about is The summer To Do list. You guys made it when you were in third grade and kept the ‘tradition’ since. During the school year yall would fill the list up with a bunch of things you both wanted to do when summer came.

“I could still improve my singing so i can sign up to” kai responded now looking at his phone.

“But we would most definetly be seperated into different classes”

“Yea I guess your right that wouldnt work” he sighed. 

“I have an idea” you say excitedly “ ive always wanted to try acting class”

“That does sounds fun. Write it down.”

You grab the orange sharpie and wrote the number 1. Acting classes. The paper is like a long scroll and looks as ancient as one. You write down the year of the summer leave a space under it for when summer is over to name the summer. Then yall write down the list.

“Lets think of some more things another day.” Says kai yawning. I look over to the clock not noticing how much time has passed its now 11:37 and we both have school tommorow. 

“Ok ill head home goodnight kai “ i say while collecting my stuff to leave. 

“Bye y/n get home safe”

The walk home is like a routine. You live on the same street as kai and the amount of times youve walked to and from his house is to many to even try and count.

When you walk into the house you can hear your parents talking, well more like arguing but in a light voice. You just hope it stays that quiet and you can get some rest. Though its highly unlikely because their arguments always get loud and you barely can rest.

You walk into your room and flick on the lights. Your room was in pretty nice shape since you cleaned just a few days ago.

You go and flop on your bed and almost immediatly fall asleep. There was no need to change since you went to kais in your pajamas. 

“CRASH”. You were suddenly woke up by something fragile hitting the ground. You looked at the time and it was 12:06 you barely got 30 minutes of sleep. You dont know what you were expecting it happens almost every night for the past few months. 

Your parents have both been fighting with each other over every little thing and it was not healthy. You used to not be able to sleep at night because they were so loud but it started happening so often that you invested in some earbuds. 

It was pointless of you to go tell them to quiet down because then you would get yelled at by both of them. So eventually you stopped. 

You reached over in your nightstand and take them out and plug them, hoping you would get enough sleep to be ready for tommorow.

(a/n This is my first fanfic and if you like it pls comment. It helps motivate. Also dont know the update scheduling.)

[roman-cup]

You have pretty eyes

Garrance oneshot based on my PDH rewrite I didnt write yet

Posted on ao3 and quotev before, now its here

past garmau and garroth x ivy  mentioned

"You have beautiful eyes." Laurance looked over at Garroth, who clearly does not understand personal space, as he leaned VERY close to Laurance face. He blinked "..Thanks..?" He did not blush because that would be lame and he's a shadow knight hes not lame! Garroth nodded. He moved away and looked back at his work. Laurance stared to see if he would say anything else. He did not. Ok then? Laurance had hetrochromia. One eye blue one green. but, still? Unprompted?? "Uh...??? Elaborate?" "On what?" "Dude??" "Oh. You're eyes are pretty" he shrugged. "Like, the sun is hitting them right now and its pretty" Laurance, for some embarrassing reason. Responded to that by throwing his hand in front of his eyes. Which is stupid, because who cares if he looks at his eyes? Weird compliment aside. Lucky Garroth had just looked away again. -- It was there Junior year of high school and Garroth and Laurance have been dating for 1 year. "You're eyes are pretty" Garroth grinned as he put his head on Laurance shoulder, showing off his braces clearly. Laurance was finally able to get his braces off a few months ago. Maybe he felt bad eating popcorn in front of him, but all in all? Not his fault his boyfriend has to wear braces. Plus Laurance still has to suffer. The dentist said he has to wear a retainer?? Forever?? Garroth, competently unaware of Laurance internal monologue continues to speak "They're all shiny and stuff.." Laurance smiled and held his hand, but held a laugh. "Deja vu" "Whatt..?" Garroth looked up at him "You already told me my eyes were prettyyy" Laurance sung light heartily. Laurance is still not sure if Garroth was trying to flirt with him freshman year, or if he was just, like that. "No I didn't...oh no" Garroth sat up "You remembered that?" "I was supposed to forget?" He laughed. "Yes!" Garroth grabbed his shoulders "oh my irene.." he groaned "That has haunted me..," "Oh and I'm dramatic?" He elbowed him lightly "Come on, its not like I was gonna be upset that my -favorite person- and love of my life likes my eyes' Laurance tried to comfort "You didn't like me freshman year" he corrected, he crossed his arms, and cracked a smile. Still embarrassed. "You don't know that." Neither did Laurance, to be honest. When DID he start to like him? He knows he likes him now, obviously, but he didn't even notice until after GarroTh and Aph had broken up. "Well did you?" Garroth looked at him "If you did I'd feel bad, because I didn't" Laurance thought. Well, Laurance did flirt with him that year, and last year, he was joking thought...right? "Oh yeah I'm heartbroken, and it was so platonic and straight of you to tell me how nice my eyes were by the way" Garroth flushed embarrassed again. "My boyfriend thinks my eyes are pretty~" Laurance sung. To add to his shame. "Oh hush, come it was weird, that I said that!" Laurance shrugged. He definitely thought it was weird when he said it. He still hung out with him after though, so, he got over it. "So like,, why did you say it? I mean I know you said you didn't like me but like,, was that flirtingggg? Orr?" Garroth shrugged. "Who knows. I haven't seen two eye colors much, I figured it was cool" Laurance nodded. He held Garroth hand "Hmm." He hummed again and grinned "My boyfriend thinks my eyes are pretty~" Garroth groaned light-heartily "Oh hush you love me." Laurance laughed "Yeah I do" he laughed a bit.  "What?" "What? I didn't say anything, nope." "Nope don't do that." Laurance stared at him, flustered.

They hadn't really used the 'i love you' phase. Yes, nicknames like "love" "lovely" "love of my life" where definitely there, but the actual words? Nope. "You love me?" Laurance looked up him. He asked casually, or he tried very hard to, and that what matter right? A for effort? Garroth shrugged. "I dont..know?" He said honesty. "I feel like I do! But I thought I loved Aphmau too." "Oh yeah.." Laurence bit his lip. "But like" Garroth continued "We know that didn't like-" he put his own hands in the air to visually demonstrate and short line "go on for long." "Yeahhh-"

"And there was my relationship with Ivy freshman year,,poor girls still mad at me for it."

"I wouldn't call her a 'poor girl'"

Garroth rolled his eyes. "whatever, my point is- I'm scared."  Laurance looked up "offf-" he looked around like what he was saying was forbidden, and it kinda felt like it was "Saying I love you?" Garroth nodded. Relaxing and putting his head back on Laurance shoulder, Laurance put an arm around him. "I don't want to go on and saying things like that and have it end up being wrong again. I mean me and Aph are still friends thankfully, But-" Laurance just stared at him. He felt he should comment on this this speech, but he didn't want to interrupt. Plus, now he was wondering, did he love Garroth? "But- I don't really want to lose you- an-and! I,, currently would like to date you as long as you let me- but if-" Garroth held his hands up again to vaguely gesture as he spoke " if I say -that- I think it would be worse when you.. no longer want to." Garroth ended awkwardly. Then blushed "I am sorry for the speech, I ruined the moment, didn't I?" He chuckled. Laurance stared at him. Before he shook his head to get rid of his thoughts. He then shook it again. "No way!" He yelled. Then put a hand over his mouth and sighed. "You didn't ruin anything dude, don't worry about that. Plus,, I dunno that was kinda sweet.." "Its sweet that I won't say I love you..?" Garroth looked at Laurance weirdly. "I must have explained it was wrong then" Laurance giggled "No no, but like, I dunno.." he started using a hand to nervously play with his hair. It made it down past his shoulders by now. Geez. "I like knowing you wanna stay with me." "Well..yeah of course I do.." Laurence looked at him smiled and continued "By the wayyy, if that's the case, Then this relationship won't end because I am going to propose the moment I can..". Laurence, despite only being 16, nodded proudly. Fully trusting this statement. This didn't seem to shake Garroth, who is also 16, for long. He stared at him a moment before laughing "Oh please, I'll beat you too it." "Oh yeah?" "Yes!" "We will see..." "Well-!"Garroth looked ready to say something, then stopped himself. Laurence bit his lip nervously, did he cross a line somehow. Was marriage to much? "Well..what?" "Nothing,,nothing" Laurance frowned. "YOU..ok? Sorry I- oh my irene" he groaned " you just talked about not wanting to bring up 'I love yours and I bring up marriage, fuck-.sorry" he facepalmed. "What no no it was sweet!" Garroth looked at him "I'm not upset, I just paused because-" "Causeee?'" "I figured.. I could beat you too it if I do it -now- "You're ...proposing now..?" Laurance stated blanking. Yeah, he said it, but, seriously, they were 16. "Well no not that but.. I figured. We could get promise rings?" "Ohhhh- so like, a promise to stay together." "Yeah! When we are older,, well we will see..but- oh fuck that would be going to far again-" Garroth put his hands over his face. "See? Even I can't stop myself from going to far!" "I mean- we don't have to..butt.. I won't mind." Garroth looked up over his hands "Really?" Laurance nodded "yeah, really" he stared to grin. Laurance had no idea WHEN he started to like Garroth really, and maybe love was still a strong word, but Laurance knew he wanted Garroth to be in his life. Which, whenever Laurance thought of a future he though marriage. So? Why not? Garroth sat up and smiled "OK! I'll buy us rings! Oh wanna help or a surprise." "Surprise me!" "Ok!" Garroth seems to have calmed down. That was good. "Oh and by the way." Laurence started. "What?" "Back to the whole, love thing.. how about this.. we can say,, I love you,, if you want, but not in super serious way, yet yeah?" "Hmm yeah. Ok then. Should I say it now." "I'll say it back if you do." "Ok."Garroth took a breath "Laurance I love you,," he closed his eyes for a second, like he expected everything to crash right now, when it didn't he added" anndd your eyes are still shiny." he grinned.  "Pf-" laurance laughed "Well I love you too...anndd I love your eyes too." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah!" Garroth laughed, he kissed Laurance cheek "I think we are dorks" "Oh you are. I'm cool though" laurance nudged him "its ok though, your adorable" "Hmp,, okk Mr. Long bright orange hair." "You LIKED my hair" "Not relevant" "Also-" Laurance gestured to his hair, his brown roots growing out but the bottom half was definitely orange, just slightly faded. Still bright though "its STILL orange, dickhead" "So..I win?" "No, your a dork" "Damn it" Laurance grabbed his hand once again "Hey." "Hn?" "I love you" Garroth sighed "I love you too." 

[blkkizzat]

ty for tag remi pookies! ❤

• started writing ?

in my ff.net days. hmm when i was super young like 2012? lol ive only written bits and pieces of things and quit for like years at a time. this is actually my longest stint writing consistently lol.

• started blogging ?

i used to be obsessed with working out and keto/paleo so i had a fitspo blog which had a crazy amount of follower, thank god that blog is now archived lol. but i was casually reading jjk fanfics on here from like may 2023 to aug 2023 when i decided to make my own blog and start writing!

• followers ?

5.1k, and honestly many more than i deserve for being such a slow writer and for not writing at least 3 of the 9 months ive had this blog due to school/illness/travel. i edit ALOT and rework fics 10x over so i really appreciate all the positive feedback and support my work does get especially since it skews longer (5k to me is a short fic LOL) and i be spending 30-40hrs+ on fics. i know people like reading shorter things but i never feel like my shorter works are as good as my longer ones (i really have to be in a mood to write something under 1k). so it means even more that so many of y'all do read the long-winded shit i put out. thats why i always try to respond back to every comment and answer every ask cause i want y'all to know how much i appreciate it!

• communication ?

i will honestly talk to anyone and everyone! i prefer discord but like chatting on here too. i will drop by others asks and i love getting asks and talking to anons. i hope no one ever feels too intimidated to talk to me cause im just a loser pervert dork like otaku!gojo lmfao.

• likes ?

i appreciate the likes but i love the comments and reblogs with tags, those really keep me going. you dont even have to say anything profound just "i liked this alot" and i would squirt with joy istg lmfao.

• requests ?

are currently closed. im such a slow writer that i closed them at the beginning of the month with a goal to get through the 20 or so I have by the end of the year LOL! But i love hearing your ideas, if you wanna send me ideas or just chat about a headcanon you have feel free! im always down to share thoughts.

• writing ?

writing has always come easy for me in the sense of i have a huge imagination. something pos that comes from my dissociative daydreaming lol, it really puts me in the space of the characters/world and ideas just flow. once i just started writing about my daydreams and stopped looking for "plots" the ideas just wont stop coming! i wish i were a faster writer because sometimes i feel like imma burst if i dont get something typed out lol. they nag me in the back of my head lol.

i am working on techniques to become faster though (mostly cause i sometimes i over edit) like just writing without reworking sentences or pausing to think of better adjectives and being ok with being repetitive until its time to edit.

• fics you’re proud of ?

a bumpy ride - ok this is my most popular fic lol but thats not why im proud of it, it was my first time in ages writing 'crack'/humor. People telling me they laughed from my writing is such a huge compliment omfg. like im not funny y'all im just crazy, i swear lmfaoooo.

ghostface!choso, because it was my first time writing horror and writing for choso. i wasn't sure if i could do it tbh. it took me out of my comfort zone but i really liked the end product and like im obsessed with killer choso now lmfao.

plug!choso, hello?!!? i can write angst?? i wasnt even intending to istg lmfao it just came out and the story took a life of its own. crazy.

tagging some of my fav writers, no presh ofc: @tonycries @ohimsummer @yuutx @bunny584 @triangularz @bakubunny

@081231 @hoshigray @screampied @ramonathinks @arlerts-angel @nkogneatho

+anyone else bc i know i forgot sum ᥫ᭡

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join

[iheartred]

Heyyyy gurl/lovely human love your work for the black phone it’s amazing and just wanted to ask if you pretty please could make some head cannons for bruce (you can not respond to this if you want 😚) hope you have a amazing day or night

The blackphone

m.list

Bruce headcanons

cw : Fluff / crack / reader has no gender / also slight x reader(platonic and romantic ♡♡)

a/n : I love Bruce sm dude !!! He's so fun to write for aaa okay okay here's my headcanons I'll probably have some more later but here's what I though of in the moment :D

Golden retriever vibes

OKAY ILL ADMIT THIS WAS SOMEONE ELSES HEADCANON AND IF YOURE THE PERSON WHOS HC THIS WAS PLEASE TELL ME SO I CAN PROPERLY CREDIT U

But anyways this has been stuck with me for like, EVER

He such an airhead but at the same time so smart without realizing it

He has school smarts, he knows that much but when it comes to anything outside of school he's kind of a dingus (I love him for it though ♡)

Has probably practiced in his backyard so often that whenever he throws it into the neighbors backyard they'll just let him walk in there to grab it

Theyre so tired of having to walk out trying to relax to only be disturbed by a teenage boy who loves baseball so much that he'll throw it into the their backyard to show them how cool baseball is.

Neighbor : just come and grab it I don't care anymore

Bruce : what?

Then they'd walk back in their house leaving him alone and confused

Is most likely a mama's boy

He and his mom have such a great relationship which explains why he's such a gentleman

NOW DONT GET ME WRONG, his dad is also awesome but they're like a little distant with eachother and don't tell eachother everything like how he and his mom do

Is probably really bad at lying or keeping secrets

Like if you told him to keep a secret even just for a bit before you revealed it yourself, he'd probably blurt it out and ruin the suspense

ITD STILL BE AS AMAZING AND FUNNY BUT LIKE PLEASE DONT TELL THIS POOR GUY YOUR SECRETS

If he liked you he'd probably hang out with you 24/7

Like, study dates, walking around the neighborhood, talking over the phone, talking at the park, going to the diner down the street just all of the above

Mans would just love to be around you sm 🫶

Gets hurt a lot

Whether it'd be him tripping over a rock and falling on his face or just exsisting and have a bruise form, he'd always end up asking if you could patch him up

He has such a high pain tolerance though, like if he was next to a stove and his arm was above the fire you'd yell at him and he wouldn't even notice

You : BRUCE YOUR ARM.

Bruce : huh??

You : YOUR. ARM.

Bruce : ???, oh

You : "OH" ???

Then you'd have to clean up the burn while he just enjoys your company

(And the fact that your touching his arm)

Loves grabbing stuff off the floor for some reason

If he saw some wrapper that he thought was cool he'd pick it up and put it into his pocket, then tell you about it and even show you it

is a morning person

Im so sorry, he would be

Like his mom definitely made him wake up early as a kid and it's just been stuck with him

If you slept over his house I feel like that'd be the only time he'd sleep in, and it's so out of his normal routine that he wakes up as if he just walked into Narnia

Bruce : WHAT HUh

You : HUH???

Bruce : what... year is it

You : ARE YOU OKAY???

Then it'd just be panicking from your end because he looks like he just at a whole zip lock bag of edibles

☆ ☆ ☆

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

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

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

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 20,141

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

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You cracked your eyes open.

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

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

Wait.

CUM?!

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

Think, y/n, think!

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

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

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

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

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

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

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

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

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

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

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

“Come on, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is where you were now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was on this day that it clicked.

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

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

Disgusting.

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

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

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

So, we look back to where we started.

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

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

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

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was all unimportant and already said.

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

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

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

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

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

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck men.

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

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

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

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

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

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

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

You don’t think about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a child.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“...I always make it.”

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

Silence.

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

“Fend for your damn self then.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

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

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

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irritation runs through your veins.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once he left, you felt light again.

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

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

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

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

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

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

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your friends had noticed immediately.

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

You could care less right now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

As time does, it moves forward.

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

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

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

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

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

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

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

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

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

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

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

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

You grin.

“Obviously.”

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

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

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

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

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

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

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

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

But why did you?

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

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

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hm?”

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

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

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

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

“Anything for you, darling.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

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

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

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

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

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

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

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

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

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

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

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

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were breathless.

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

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

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

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

He needed you.

Just you.

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

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

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

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

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

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n—”

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

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

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It takes your breath away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And Shouto?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

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

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

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

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

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

P R E S E N T

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now that shocks you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

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

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

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

“Crybaby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was intimate, romantic even.

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

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

[fuck-customers]

A customer came in today to find out if he had insurance on his phone, which he did. So I did my usual routine on explaining how to make the claim and go about fixing the phone or replacing it. He tried to do it in the store, which normally isn’t a problem as long as he’s not holding up the line or anything and then he started smashing his fingers on the screen because it was too cracked to register what he pressed.

He asked me if there was any other way to make the claim and I told him the only way was online because the insurance was a third party company. He started making excuses on why he couldn’t like “i dont have a computer or anything else” or “my phone isnt working look” and then continued to forcefully press on the screen. So he asked to use one of our computers, which I politely said no and explained “We aren’t allowed to let customers use our computers, for security reasons.”

He got pissed and starting calling it bullshit and said “any other manager would let me use a tablet to do it, youre just lazy” and I repeated myself and even said that if someone were to do that then theyd be breaking company policy because thats literally a breach of security since all our tablets and computers are programmed with the system we use to access all customer accounts.

I’m really a “fuck corporate” kind of person and ill break a rule here and there but this guy was being a dick and we have cameras all over the store so I stood my ground and kept denying him.

He got so mad that he asked to speak to the manager and my manager wasnt in so then he asked for his phone number and I told him Im also not allowed to give out personal information like that. Then he asked for my name and since I didn’t do anything wrong I refused and he got pissed and spout all this bullshit about how Im legally obligated to give him my name because hes a paying a customer. Like for one, he didnt buy anything, hes not a paying customer at the store. And two, im definitely not legally obligated to give out my personal information to angry customers because they didnt get what they wanted.

Anyways, he started yelling at me about how im lazy, unprofessional and useless. At this point I was getting irritated so I responded with “Im sorry thats your opinion” I guess that was kinda sassy but i mean?? He was being a piece of shit. Its literally also not in my job description or title to make insurance claims, repair phones, set up phones, or apply screen protectors. So i definitely wasnt refusing him service. I did what he asked, which was to access his account and see if he had insurance on his phone.

He yelled all the way to the door and before fully walking out he turned around and said “and you’re ugly too” I dont care about a random dudes opinion about my looks but I was literally wearing a mask, theres literally no way he could know what i looked like?? I saw his ID too so I KNOW hes got no right talking shit like that.

After clocking out, my coworker called me to say that the customer called the store to tell him that he placed a complaint with corporate and that theyd set a meeting to go more into depth about the incident, which isnt really an incident because the only thing that happened was he threw a tantrum. Whats funny is i dont work for the corporate that he called. I work for a third party company that The Phone Company hired to open Authorized Retail stores. So theres really nothing TT&A can do

I don’t know what exactly corporate needs to write me up or fire me but im 100% sure what he told them was a lie because I acted completely professional and calm. I dont even know if theyd have my back, can I sue them for wrongful termination if they do end up firing me over this guys lies?

Its such bullshit to me that he went as far as to try to get me fired, literally in a pandemic all because of an insurance claim.

Which also!! If his phone worked well enough to call and complain, couldnt he have just, idk, made the fucking claim?!?!

I swear some people have nothing better to do than to yell at 20 something year old min. wage workers.

Get a life, man

[just-my-fandom]

I like the hc on being for the Ninjas dating another ninjas sister who’s their soulmate, Could do one where reader (Lloyd’s older sister) Has been dating cole for a bit in secret and Lloyd and Garmadon find out and become overprotective ( I am so sorry I just love the overprotective dad and/or brother trope)

Boo (Cole Brookstone x Garmadon! Reader)

A/N; I stuck with the powers the reader has in this headcannon. I’m currently only writing for Ninjago, the Umbrella Academy, and Stranger Things, so send them in.

Summary; When the Ninja join the Tournament of Elements, Cole and the reader are forced to fight one another. Cole risking himself already raises suspicion to Lloyd and Garmadon, but it isn’t until they confront the reader before they find out the truth.

Also side note, Rest In Peace to Kirby Morrow who voiced Cole.

“THIS whole thing is so stupid,” You drop your tray onto the table seated with four men, settling next to your father and sensei, Garmadon,

“Hey, their foods great though,” Kai speaks up from across you, seated between Cole and your younger brother, Lloyd,

“Take it,” You mutter, pushing your tray to the hot head before resting your elbows on the table,

“You can’t be skipping meals, Y/N,” Garmadon states, dragging the tray back in front of you so you glanced and glared at him, “You never know when you’ll have to fight,”

“Hopefully never,” You spit, Garmadon raising his eyebrows at your tone, “Come on, dad. We’ve already had four rounds and none of us had to fight. Face it, Chen just wants us here for his enjoyment. He doesn’t want to lose any of us,”

“Me and you are seeing a completely different story here, Y/N/N,” Jay peers over the booth across from you, eyes squinting, “I want to fight. You just know you’ll loose,”

“Want happened to encouragement on the team?” Lloyd asks, looking up at Jay,

“Ehem!” A sharp cough through the speakers above cause everyone’s gaze to shift, “Ehem! Ladies and gents, it’s time for round five!”

“Oh come on,” Kai pouts at his food, poking at the chicken and dumplings,

“Would the following Masters please make their way to their assigned arena; Speed, Gravity, Nature, Mind-,”

“I told you,” You glare up at Jay.

“And our last two, Earth and Natural Occurances!”

Your eyes snap over to Cole, who nearly dropped his fork at the mention of his element, “Remember!” Chen laughs, “Only one can remain,”

“IM not fighting you, Cole!” You turn to stare at the black ninja, arms out in alarm before they raise to your hair, “Oh, God, what if he knows? What if he set this up on purpose and tells my dad-,”

“No one knows, Y/N,” Cole instantly steps up to put his hands at your wrists, pulling them down from your hair, “We just gotta do what Chen tells us to do, and we’ll both make it out,”

“Only one remains,” You remind, “One of us has to take the fall,”

“Easy,” Cole shrugs, your brows pinching, “You grab the blade as soon as it starts. You continue on,”

“No,” You shake your head, “That’s not how this works. Give yourself up instantly and they’ll know,”

“Well I’m not letting you take that fall, princess,” Cole pulls back, when Garmadon knocks and hastily steps in,

“You two ready?”

“IM not fighting you,” You repeat your earlier statement, hands clenched as you and Cole stood feet apart in the arena, every elemental master watching above.

“We can draw it out until they call it a tie,” Cole reassures, not loud enough to where Chen could hear, “Quick- attack me, but not too hard,”

You clench your jaw, throwing a hand out so a small tornado formed and threw itself at your secret boyfriend, knocking him off his feet and into the stone wall behind him,

You flinch behind your mask, stomping a foot down so the earth cracked, where Cole jumps to the side, tossing a wall of rocks in your direction.

“I’m bored!” You hear Chen whine, “Release the Condrai Crushers!”

Your eyes snap to the side, yelping when three vehicles roll out of the tunnels in the wall, one zooming straight for you.

You feel Coles arm loop around your waist, tugging you to the side before his back presses to yours, watching the vehicles surround you. “I got your back,”

“I got yours,” You murmur, hand grazing his before you lunge forward, throwing your arms up so the earth raised into a ramp, the first vehicle leaping off said ramp and ramming into the stone wall,

Cole dodges the next vechile, lunging towards the third to drop a pile of rocks over top of the driver, causing him, too, to crash into the wall.

You huff out a relieved breath and high five Cole, grasping his hand with a smile beneath your mask,

“Enough!” Chen shrieks, so you released Coles hand and turned to Chen, “I know what you’re trying to do. And if neither of you will win, you will both loose!”

You watch in alarm as the ground began to drop in small holes, your feet moving backwards and into Cole, his hands at your hips in alert,

You jump to the side when the floor gives out beneath you, stumbling as you are left surrounded by darkness, eyes looking up at the blade at the top of the post,

“Chen’s right!” Cole calls, as you look to him, “One of us has to be win!”

“And it’ll be you!” You shout back, finger pointed, “Get the blade, Cole. I’ll be fine!”

Cole rushes up the post as you look down at your wobbling knees, Cole jumping down onto a stone still intact, tossing the blade so it hit flat against your chest, your hands stumbling to catch it.

“Winner!” Chen calls, as your eyes snap up to Cole, shocked, “Loser!”

“Cole-!” You lunge forward onto the next stone, barely catching yourself as the floor gave out beneath Cole, dropping him into the darkness below,

You clench your jaw and glare up at Chen, chucking the blade across the arena so it slid off the stones, into the pit beneath.

“YOU seemed really distressed during that battle,”

Your eyes flick up from your food, your fork jabbed into the noodles you received. Garmadon raises an eyebrow, and you look back down at your plate.

“What, am I not allowed to care about my friend?”

“Not with how touchy Cole had been,” Lloyd sits down, eyes squinted, “What’s going on between you two? We both know if you had to go up against Kai or Jay you would have been fine with them giving themselves up,”

“Nothing is going on between us, Lloyd,” You snap, gaze hard, “Coles my best friend. We don’t know what happens when we loose, I didn’t want him to get hurt,”

“Y/N, I read you like an open book,” Your fathers tone softens, leaning forward, “Why didn’t you just tell me sooner?”

“Tell you what?” Kai cuts, and you drop your fork, pushing your plate forward,

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” You ask, harshly, Garmadon frowning, “Nothing is going on between Cole and I. And if there was I wouldn’t tell you because I know how you both get,” You gaze shifts to Lloyd, before you slide out of the booth, hands clenched to stop the earthquake at the tips of your fingers.

“I got her,” Garmadon states, Lloyd and Kai sharing glances as Garmadon followed his oldest daughter.

YOUR hand wipes away the blue in your eye, hearing your fathers footsteps behind you, “Why are you following me?”

“How long?” Garmadon avoids, your arms crossing as you stopped, turning to face him with your head ducked,

“Almost a year,” You murmur, lifting your gaze to his,

“And why I am just now finding out?”

“Because you know how you are,” You squint, “Every boyfriend I had you scared away, and now that boys know who my brother is? They won’t even talk to me,” You hiss, shoulders dropping, “Cole is the only one who I seem to be able to control my powers around. I’m scared that without him here I’m going to accidentally kill someone with my powers,”

“You’ve trained,” Garmadon responds, your eyes rolling.

“Yeah, but I have your anger from when you were Lord Garmadon,”

You miss Garmadons flinch, but hear his sigh, “I just wished you told me,”

“I told mom,” You shrug, “She seems to enjoy the fact that I keep my relationship to myself. Guess that’s out of the box,”

“I won’t say anything to your teammates if that’s what you’re worried about,” Garmadon reassures, watching your fists release, as your brows,

“Thanks, dad,” You murmur, Garmadon smiling as he nods his head towards the dining area, hands behind his back.

“COLE!”

The Master of Earth turns away from helping Garmadon to his feet, stumbling back upon another figure ramming into him, mind quick to realize it was you,

“Whoa,” Cole laughs, weakly, eyes glancing at Garmadon before his arms wrap at your waist, “Dont worry. I’m fine,”

“You’re such an ass,” You lean back to hit his chest, hands then sliding to hold his face, “Dont do that again,”

“No promises,” Cole murmurs, looking over at Lloyd’s alarmed- “I knew it!”

Your hands drop as Lloyd points an accusing finger, Garmadon chuckling, “I knew something was going on between you two!”

“You’re just now realizing that?” Kai asks, so you spun to look at him, alarmed, “Oh don’t give me that look. You guys suck at keeping quiet at night,”

“Do what?” Garmadons smile drops into a scowl, your eyes widening as you take Coles hand,

“This is our cue to leave. We’ll meet you at the docks, guys,”

Lloyd crosses his arms, eyes squinting to his father, “Did you know about this?”

“Why do you sound like the father here?” Garmadon questions, side glancing his son, “Of course I knew. But go easy of them,”

“What?” Lloyd slacks, “Why?”

“An instinct,” Garmadons hands link behind his back, stepping forward to follow after you, “I have a feeling they’re good for each other,”

[pasteltraitor]

(I was planning on doing like six more of these as a sort of ('five times Raph protected his family and one time it was the other way around' but if you don't want me to I won't, happy birthday.

Everyone knew Donnie was a softshell, and everyone worried about it.

The young turtles, despite being around the age of ten, were still cautious whenever playing with Donnie, their pops and Raph made sure of it. But they started to get reckless after Donnie tied soft things onto himself to protect his shell, it was like all their caution had been thrown to the wind, they all had thought it would be fine to be as rough as possible.

Raph was still slightly worried, unlike his other brothers, it still sat in his mind, and he'd told them off sometimes, but eventually even he played more rough, even if he was worried.

His purple loving brother had been checking the newly built ramp, making sure it was stable, when Leo had shouted from the top about calling dibs on the first try, and shot down at rapid speed despite the protests from everyone else, then hitting a loose part of the ramp that sent him rolling down at rapid speed instead.

Time didn't slow down during that moment, Raph's instincts and body, his thoughts, had felt like they'd sped up.

Leo was coming right for Donnie, and Donnie hadn't been wearing anything to protect himself at the time, Leo couldn't stop himself, and Donnie wouldn't dodge in time-

Raph had barely thought about what he was doing, just what would happen if he didn't make it.

Raph rushed forward, shielding his soft shell brother with his own body as he rolled through the air, pain stabbed him as he hit a wall with his plastron.

His limbs went limp to reveal a shocked but unharmed Donnie, who had seemed grossed out by the hug until he looked directly at his bigger brother.

Raph sighed in relief, cringing at the small pain in his chest as he looked down-

And saw the scar.

It wasn't that big, he later thought, but it had still hurt, though he didn't care. he checked to make sure Donnie was okay first. "Yo, you okay, Donnie?" The bigger of the two asked, Donnie responding, "Other than the uncomfortable awful feeling of being stuck in a hug, yes, but are you seriously asking me that when you have a crack on our plastron?? "

"A WHAT?!?" Splinter said, the rat having been brought over by Mikey.

Raph and Donnie both exclaimed "IT WAS LEO'S FAULT" while Pointing at said turtle who had hit the other side of the ramp, causing a small bruise to form by his cheek.

After Splinter had checked they were okay, thanked Raph and scolded Leo, fixed up Raph's scar and put two bandaids crossed into an X onto it, Donnie had come up to Raph to say somethng.at

"…Thank you for saving me, even if I could've done I better with some planning, it was helpful." Raph grinned. "Your welcome, Donnie. You're still gonna be wearing two pillows on your front and back and one soft blanket, though, just in case."

Many years later, Donatello gently touched his battleshell, thinking about that day. That incident was a part of what had inspired Donnie to make his battleshell in the first place.

Donnie looked over at Raph, who was arguing with Leo again for the fifth time today, and stared at the spot the small, now faded, scar you could hardly see, would be, silently grateful though he would never admit it aloud.

-------

Characters are OOC but IDC I woke up at 4: am with a vision and I will write it.

Again happy B-day don't have to answer this ask you can just delete it or keep it in your inbox.

P.S I dare you to go on the scariest ride at six flags on saturday your prize? You got to go on the scariest ride at six flags congrats

aww this was rlly sweet i loved it thank u!! im posting it <3<3

also would love to see more of these! no pressure to if u dont want to

also ur on! idk what the scariest ride is but ill go on it! and I dare u to not scream at all during a ride

[corpsedaydream]

hi i love ur work so much and i had a request! corpse and reader are dating and she isn’t necessarily what fans think his type is. she isn’t really goth and doesn’t watch anime so when she sees corpse talking about e girls and goth girls and all that stuff she feels left out and like she isn’t who he wants to be with, and when he’s streaming with her (she’s also a youtuber), he’s like talking about an anime show and reader feels left out and the whole live chat is just saying how she doesn’t belong there and that corpse could do so much better ect. so she has a breakdown in the bathroom and he reads the comments about her and gets upset and defends her which ends with him cuddling the fuck out of her and kissing away her tears idk just angst with a fluffy ending please i’m desperate 😔✌️💗

ooooooooooof i put myself in all the feels writing this and now i’m meant to just go to sleep like i’m not feeling some type of way smh

but!!!!!!!! i like how it turned out hehe, hope u enjoy

word count: 1.5k

_________________________

beach baby

Your freckles were a lot more prominent lately, but that was always something that happened during this time of year when summer was quickly approaching. As much as you felt a little insecure by the the little marks that were dotted all over your body, it came hand in hand with the excitement of being able to do all of your favourite things that just felt better to do in summer.

You were a beach baby through and through. Growing up, you lived in the one house your whole life that was right by the beach and when your family went on holidays, it was always to a holiday house that was by another beach. You could swim before you could walk or talk. When you did learn how to walk, your parents realised they had to keep an extra close eye on you at the beach because you’d always run down to the waves, not realising the danger in your toddler years. When you watched The Little Mermaid for the first time, you begged your mother to turn you into a mermaid so you could live a life under the sea. When you were a kid getting picked up from school, your after school activity was going to the beach. Whenever the school swimming carnival rolled around, it was always you who got nominated to do the races. When you were a dramatic teenager and found out the boy you liked kissed someone else, you went to the beach and wrote his name in the sand just to watch it get washed away by the sea.

Your life had always involved the beach and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Whenever the idea of falling in love with someone popped into your mind, you always thought it would happen with the beach involved in some way. And there had been a few surfer boys you’d had flings with, but none stuck. They never really made an impact on you.

But Corpse had.

The two of you were an unlikely pairing, the absolute definition of opposites attract, but it worked.

You’d met at a mutual friends house by chance and there was an undeniable spark from that very first moment.

-

“Sitting under the moon is a lot better than the sun.” The two of you had found yourselves in a light hearted argument that very first night. After getting introduced and realising there was a pull between you both, he had eventually grabbed your hand and brought you to come sit up on the rooftop with him.

“What? No way, dude.” You shook your head and laughed, he was everything you weren’t but all you wanted. “The moon is so pretty,” You agreed with him, “but the sun makes you warm and it’s so pretty when the sky is all blue with a couple of cute, white fluffy clouds. That’s the perfect weather to be out and about.”

“If you like going out and about.”

“You don’t like going outside?”

“Nah,” Corpse hesitated, contemplating on how honest he should be with the girl he’d just met but was feeling so comfortable around. “I can’t handle the world sometimes, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. If someone came up to me and said you can spend your whole life under water as a mermaid but never be able to come back on land, I’d seriously consider.”

“Even after meeting me?” The tone shifted back to the playful flirting and you were grateful for it.

“Shut up and admire your moon.”

“I will, after all, the night sky is far superior.” He was holding firm in his opinion.

“I think it’s all really pretty.” You said honestly, and it was the truth. You were just as hypnotised by a moonlit sky with stars sparkling as you were with a daytime sky.

“I think you’re really pretty.”

He’d had your heart from that moment.

-

You’d actually gone to the beach today and spent a solid few hours there with friends and it had put you in such a blissful state. Making the drive to your boyfriends place so enjoyable, because you were also very excited to see him.

He’d left the door unlocked when you messaged him saying you were on your way. So when you arrived you let yourself in, shutting and locking the front door behind you, knowing Corpse was streaming and you were going to join him.

“Hi.” You whispered, opening the door to his office, not knowing if you should let your presence be known to stream yet. You always felt a little nervous when it came to his fans. The first time you joined him in a stream, all you could concentrate on was the amount of messages that stated how you were exactly wrong for Corpse. How you were the opposite to who he should be with. From there, it only progressed. You saw the hate comments and negative things that some of them had to say about you and it hurt.

“She’s here!” Corpse announced, so at least it was known to them that you would be joining him at some point, they had some warning and you hoped it meant you would receive a warmer welcome. “Hey, baby, get over here.” He opened his arms and you sat down on his lap, greeting him with a kiss before you both brought your attention back to his stream.

“Hi guys!” You greeted the stream, cautiously looking over the influx of messages, waiting for something negative but it seemed they were asking you about something. “I can see you guys asking, but I don’t really know what you’re talking about...” You trailed off before looking at Corpse. “What were you talking about?”

“Oh...” He started, “we were talking about an anime. (Y/N) isn’t really into anime, guys.” He laughed and you smiled but you could feel the anxiety start to build, you just knew this was going to cause a wave of hate to you.

“Hey, I loved Sailor Moon and Pokemon when I was a kid.” You attempted to make a joke, thinking it would gain approval of his fans but it only caused them to react worse.

The chat started moving faster, messages of,

‘LMAO of course she doesn’t know what we’re talking about’

‘Did she really just say Pokemon? She’s fucking basic’

‘What a fucking dumbass’

‘Dump her ass Corpse’

‘Ugh why the fuck did she come?’

‘WE DONT WANT YOU HERE’

‘Fuck off (Y/N)’

‘Corpse you can do so much better’

You could feel the tears welling up, each comment being another jab and you knew you had to leave or you would cry right there and they’d all hear just how they had gotten to you. Quickly, you got up, ignoring Corpse calling after you and trying to reach for you to bring you back to him.

Making your way to the bathroom, you washed your face in an attempt to calm yourself but it didn’t work at all. So instead, you sunk to the floor and let yourself cry. You couldn’t understand why they hated you, you loved him so much for exactly who he was, just as they did. Couldn’t they be happy if who he was with made him happy? Negative thoughts were swirling your mind. They were getting to you.

“(Y/N)?” Corpse cracked the door open, his face full of worry as he stepped inside the bathroom. “Oh, baby, hey, hey,” He was by your side in a moment, his hands finding your sun kissed cheeks as he left a kiss against your head before finding your vision. “I saw what they were saying. They’re wrong.”

“But what if they’re not, Corpse?” You couldn’t help but to argue back. “You deserve someone better for you.”

“Stop it, stop right now.”

“No, I mean, look at us... We’re complete opposites.”

“And so?” He responded. “Do you love me?”

“Yes, of course I do.”

“That’s all that matters.” He told you, and you knew he was right, it was just the hate comments were really playing on your mind.

“Is it, though? Don’t you want someone else?”

“No. Fuck no.” He wrapped his arms around you then, he knew you really needed reassurance right now and he was going to give it to you. “You’re fucking perfect, baby. My beach baby, I only want you.” He told you, bringing you onto his lap once more, only now you were on the bathroom floor. You wrapped your legs and arms around him, needing to be close to him.

“Please don’t leave me.” Your voice was barely audible when you’d whispered that but he heard it and it crushed his heart to know it was his audience that had made you feel this way.

“I won’t, ever.” He assured you, he was cradling you with a force now, ever so slightly rocking the two of you back and forth. “You don’t ever have to ask me that, I’m not going anywhere.”

[tastyykpop]

hii! can i request a jeno very angsty scenario where its his s/o and his anniversary but he forgets abt it bc the dreamies wanted to go to an amusement park and then the managers took his phone so when he comes home his s/o and him get into a fight and they dont talk to each other but she always goes their dance practices since his s/o is so used to taking care of him and he gets sad bc his s/o doesn't look at him at all and he's tired because since he's so stressed with the cbs he just wants love but he knows he's wrong and they make up and stuff:) I'm sorry if this is long! you dont have to do it if you dont want to:)<3

a/n: jdjsjsjsj thanks for this beefy request it was fun to write :)

[sᴀʟᴛʏ]

𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕤𝕥,ƒℓυƒƒ

Sitting on your bed, you wondered when your boyfriend was coming home. After texting him where he was and wondering when he'd come pick you up to celebrate your guy's anniversary, youd started losing hope seeing as he never answered or bothered reading them. You knew jeno to always answer after just one second but it was like he was ignoring you.

Furious and heartbroken, you threw your phone on at the other side of the bed and decided to just take off the dress you were going to surprise him in. It was his favorite color too. A deep shade of blue silk, comfortable and cute yet still appropriate enough to wear at the fancy restaurant you guys were planning on going to. But those plans were thrown out the window quickly once you noticed how late it was.

"Why do men?" your eyes rolled as you moved in your bed, trying to get comfy.

"Why do men what?" You shot up in the bed from the sound of jenos voice as it basically frightened you back to reality. He was so quiet, you didn't even hear him walk through the door.

"Its about time you showed up." Jeno raised an eyebrow at your sudden aggression, not knowing why you were suddenly angry at him. He thought you'd be excited to see him.

"Woah why are you getting mad at me?" He questioned as he started changing out of his work clothes and into his pajamas.

You grit your teeth. How could he forget this special day that only comes once a year? "Did you forget what day it is?"

Jeno cocked his head to the side, "Um...Tuesday?" He really was clueless on where you were going with this, but your face made him realize he was missing something.

"Jeno..." your head fell into your hands, your boyfriend sat next to you in the bed, still wondering what he was missing and why it was on the tip of his tongue, "Our anniversary, you missed our damn anniversary."

The boys eyes bugged, he knew he missed something and the whole day he couldn't figure it out. He had been so stressed with the recent comeback and the upcoming one that even something as simple as an anniversary date slipped his mind.

God, he felt so bad just thinking how excited you probably were today to go out with him and enjoy your guy's day together, but because of him, your day was long gone and passed up.

"No wait, that was today!? Babe I'm so sorry, I was with the dreamies at the amusement park and I didn't have my phone with me because my manager took it and-" jeno stopped mid sentence before noticing he still didn't have his phone and forgot to get it back from his manager. He messed up bad today.

"You could've told me beforehand you were doing something with dream, although I still wouldn't have appreciated you missing our anniversary, but at least you wouldve told me where you went." You showed your annoyance by rolling over in bed, ignoring jeno.

Jeno growled at his sudden frustration, he already apologized and explained himself why are you still mad? "You know what? At least I told you what the hell I was doing and why I couldn't respond. Yeah I missed the anniversary, but you know what? Its just the fucking time of year we started dating, the day will come again."

"So what you're telling me is you don't care about the day we started dating? Whatever I'm not in the mood to argue right now." You never turned to look at jeno once you finished talking, needless to say you didn't care what he was going to reply with. It wasnt like he cared anyway.

The bass of the music boomed in the practice room. Everyone was so tired these past few days and were anxious for the upcoming comeback that all they wanted to do was relax for once and take a break.

Jeno especially.

After the little argument you both had last night, he couldnt get that out of his head. There were no words spoken to him this morning and you didn't even spare him a glance. His heart broke for sure and he didnt know what to do because he knew he messed up bad. Saying those words to you and knowing how much it meant to you, was something he wish he could take back and start over.

Walking through the practice door, you took a seat on the floor where you rested your head against the wall with bags of food for the members. They were doing so well preparing for their comeback you wanted to congratulate them for working so hard. Plus, you wanted to make sure jeno had eaten today.

"Is that food for us!?" Chenle came barging towards you, giving you a strong squeeze as you laughed into his shoulder.

"Yeah I got food for everyone to congratulate you guys for working so hard." You smiled and handed the bags of food to chenle who looked about ready to take it for himself and eat it.

"Thanks so much y/n! You're the best!" He hopped away happily with the food. Jeno stared between the food and you. He loved how you took care of everyone and still came to their practice though you both weren't on best of terms at the moment, but you weren't even looking at him or acknowledging his presence again, only returning your attention to your phone.

Jaemin wrapped an arm around jenos shoulders as he was eating a chicken wing and looked at the you as well, "Whats up with the both of you all of a sudden? Normally you guys are being so disgustingly cute that I have to walk away for a solid 5 minutes." Jaemin sighed.

"I-its nothing. We just-"

"What is it?"

Jeno shook his head and put on the best smile he could muster while patting jaemins back, "its really nothing jaemin." He said and walked over to the food.

You on the other hand felt bad for causing jeno to be this way. He was silent and didn't really interact with the members when they were eating and goofing around. Not even haechan or mark could crack him. You sighed, putting your phone down and leaned your head against the wall. The only way for all this tension between the two of you would be to settle this and forgive one another. It shouldn't be that hard.

"Jeno," you called, startling your boyfriend who perked up with full cheeks, "come here please."

The dreamies silently watched jeno amble towards you, too invested in what was going to happen to continue talking. You didn't seem to care though, just wanting to get it over with and talk with jeno.

You still stared at the ground avoiding eye contact with jeno, but he couldnt take it. All he wanted was your attention on him.

"Can't you just look at me," he muttered before taking a seat in front of you, "I know I messed up, but please?"

You blinked up at him, "wait...jeno are you tearing up?"

Jeno sniffled back the tears and looked at you with big puppy eyes, your heart sank at the sight. You didn't intend to hurt him, you were just sad and angry about one important thing. And now you think maybe ignoring him had gone too far.

"Please dont cry." You took his hand into yours, softly caressing his knuckles.

"I-im sorry I cant help it. I know I messed up and now you're ignoring me and its just so frustrating because of the comebacks and I'm so used to you taking care of me that I can't even go one day without you loving me." Jeno teared up again. If just a day could hurt him, imagine what would happen if you kept this up.

"You think I dont love you right now?" You asked. Jeno nodded his head slowly, "Babe, of course I love you, I was just mad you forgot or anniversary and went to the amusement park with the dreamies." A sigh fell from your lips before you lifted jenos chin up, "I shouldn't have acted the way I did last night and argued. I dont expect you to be perfect jeno."

There was a smile on the boys face as he brought a hand behind your head and kissed your cheek, "Im sorry, I really am baby. I promise ill make it up to you." He said.

"I know a really cute restaurant. We can have a cute date later." You smiled and jeno nodded his head happily until you heard a groan come behind him.

"This was so disgusting. I need to walk away now."

[thesadstoryofme]

The one where Harry and Y/N have a little fun.

        She was innocent and pure. At least that's what he thought. Here they both were, Y/N's legs spread wide open on his king size bed and Harry's hand jerking his cock in the seat across the room.

Friends see each other naked right?

Do friends masturbate in front of each other right?

Y/N's eyes lingered the room and soon mets his eyes. His pupils dilated as soft moans escaped his swollen, pink lips..

"Is this what you think about, when your alone?" She asked him softly as he nodded his head.

" Do you think about me, legs spread as my fingers play with my clit"

He was so hard and he was dying to come.

" Stop" he warned.

The soft giggle that escaped her lips made his eyes shot up at her.

" dont tell me what to do" She told him. Her fingers glazed over her swollen cunt.

" Do you see how fucking hard I am?"

" So?"

" I think you should do something about it" he told her.

.

She wasn’t sure how she ended up here. Both of them naked and playing with themselves.

She remembers texting her best friend Harry that she was lonely and asked him if he needed some company.

He had texted her back so fast and told her to come over.

When she arrived, the smell of food filled her nostrils and she swore she heard her tummy grumble. Harry had made the table and placed the pasta on the table along with some glasses of wine.

Harry and Y/N had just past 5 years on their friendship. They've experienced so much together and she was so thankful for him. She got to travel the world and be a part of the back stage experience.

The night had slowed down and they were both sitting on the couch. Blanket over both there waist as y/n's head rested on his shoulder.

"When's the last time you had sex?" He had randomly asked her.

" What?" She asked.

" I'm serious, I just wanna know"

" last week. I met a guy in a club, had a huge dick and we did it in the bathroom" she told him.

"Oh"

"Why?

" just curious " he told her.

" When was the last time you had sex? " She looked up at him. 

" almost a year" Y/N starts laughing but the second her eyes met his she knew he was serious..

" What? How has it been a year? "

" Haven’t been on a date in a year, ‘M lonely” 

//

There night was filled with sex horror stories. Giggles and snorts filled the air.

" He had such a small dick. I was so turned off" Y/N sipped her wine

" No way. Did you leave? " he asked her and she nodded.

" Hell yeah. I wanted some good dick" "I told him I started my period" They both started cracking up.

" how drunk are you right now" he asked her placing his beer on the side table.

Her eyes were glowing and her cheeks grew red. She never really talked about her sex life to Harry. Being open with him made her feel free. 

 She remembers scooting closer to him. His hands started roaming in his hair, trying to distract himself.

“ How horny are you right now, H?” She asked putting her hand on his thigh, giving it a squeeze. 

“ ‘m not” He gulped. 

“ I’ll be upstairs then, I have to take care of something” She told him, removing her hand and walking past him to his bedroom.

//

She didn’t know what was going through her head. She was so sexually frustrated. It was only a couple seconds later when she had removed all of her clothing and sat her naked body on his king size bed. 

Her hands roamed her body. 

“ Y/N, Where are you?” He had called out and within a minute he was stood at the door.

The site in front of him made his cock twitch in his pants. His best friend was spread out in his bed, her fingers rubbing her clit as her eyes were screwed shut. 

“ I don’t think I should be seeing this, We’re drunk” He let out a soft whisper.

“Don’t you wanna watch?” “I bet you’re so hard right now “ She giggled. 

“ Sit down and touch yourself” “ Please “ 

He was so hot and bothered and he wanted so bad to release himself.

The chair that sat in the corner of his room was empty. He started removing his clothes and tossing them anywhere. 

He was now fully naked, Cock sprung up and soon was level with his tattoo that rested on his thigh. 

She was amazed. Of course she thought out his cock, often. He was hot and she would only deny it to him. She though about how it must feel to have his cock buried deep inside her. His cum coating her tight walls and she wondered what his tongue would feel like as he sucked her clit. She wanted to go over to him and stuff her tiny mouth with his big, thick cock. 

“This is so fucking hot “ He swore as his hand pumped his cock. 

“ You are so big” “ I bet your cock would feel so good in my tight cunt” 

“ We’ll never know, I guess” He laughed.

“ I’m begging you to stuff your cock in my pussy” “ I want it so bad, Daddy” 

He never thought in the years that they’ve been friends that he’d ever witness those filthy words escape her lips. He never thought he’d be drunk, naked and touching himself in the same room as his best friend. 

“ What if I don’t want to?” “ What if I want you to beg me for it?” 

“Please Harry, I need your cock” “ I know your cock hasn’t been inside a good pussy in so long.  I know you wanna fuck my brains out and fill me with you cum” 

The words that escaped her mouth made his cock jerk. 

He finally caved in. His hands left his cock as he made his way to the bed. Her legs wide open and ready. 

“ Condom?” He asked but she shook her head.

“ Birth control” 

He pulled her legs closer to his body and positioned himself at her entrance. 

“ Are you sure?” He asked.

“ Please fuck me “ 

“ Yes Ma’am” 

He pushed himself inside her. Soft moans escaped both of their lips as he thrusted inside her. He was slow at first, he didn’t wanna hurt her but as soon as he heard her moan his thrust became faster. 

“ You are so wet and tight for me” 

“ feel’s so good” She praised him “So big “

He thrust got faster. The room soon started smelling of sex and they were both sobering up.

“ I’m gonna c-cum” she stuttered. 

“ Come for me baby girl”  Her eyes rolled in the back of her head as his cock filled her pussy with white spurts of hot cum.

He removed himself from her and rolled over next to her. 

“ That was hot “ She told him, catching her breath.

“Yeah, it was” 

“ I can’t believe we just had sex” He laughed

“ Me to, Damn you’re good” She rolled over so that she was facing him. His arm was tucked under his head, propping himself up.

//

It had been a month since they last saw each other. She didnt know that sleeping with him would make her life complicated.

The grew distant. More so him then her. When she asked to hang out he would say that he was busy or that they can another day.

They would text but it was short and she hated it. She had to know what was going on with him.

It was later in the evening and she knew he was home. She could get the thought out of her head that he was mad at her or that he was regretting what happend.

Some how she found herself parked outside his house. She sat in silence for a couple minutes before dragging herself to the door.

She rang the door bell and paced in her spot. As the door swung open she was met with a sight she didnt think she would see.

A girl. A blonde girl with beautiful blue eyes and an outfit that was very revealing.

" Hello. Can I help you? " she interrupted her thoughts.

" yeah, is Harry home? "

" He is, you can come in" She moved a little so Y/N could pass her.

" Hes upstairs. I'll get him"

"Who's at the door babe?" Harry's voice startled you but the second your eyes met his, he turned red.

" Y/N, what are you doing here? " He asked placing his hand in his pocket.

" I came to talk to you, I didnt know you had company. I'll actually catch up later"

As she made her way to the door. Harry caught up to her.

" I'm sorry" he told her.

//

She knew that blonde was his new girlfriend. Y/N was jealous and it took her weeks to figure that out. She wanted to yell and scream and kick herself for what happened.

She kept telling herself that she ruined the best thing that has ever happened to her. When she got home that night he had texted her.

I'm sorry I didnt tell you I met someone.

She couldn't dare respond back. She was hurt and sad and shocked.

They were just friends right?

A/N: okay, so this is kinda my longest writing. I hope you enjoy and give feedback please!