#Town planning permits | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

andypantsx3 · 7 months ago

Text

𝑤𝘩𝑒𝑛 𝑖 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 : 𝑡𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑖 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡𝑜 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟 : 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑖𝑖𝑖

𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: In order to placate your anxious mother, you agree to return to your hometown to participate in a mating run—knowing full well that betas rarely get chased, never mind betas nearly old enough to age out of the practice. You’ve decided to treat it like a vacation, a chance to visit with your childhood friends, the mating run itself a nice relaxing hike. All in all it’s a solid plan—until alpha Todoroki Shouto, your best friend's little brother,steps in and blows it all to pieces. 𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑛𝑡: omegaverse, no quirks au, alpha!shouto, beta!reader, mating rituals, age gap, best friend’s little brother, older reader, afab reader, some class differences, aged up characters, semi-public sex, slight small town romance vibes, background implied dabihawks for some reason, smut, 18+; mdni! 𝑙𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑡ℎ: 5.7k | chapter 3 of 4

Then

“I want to climb trees, this is so boring,” Touya complained, face down on the sofa.

You flung a piece of plastic pizza at him, laughing when it bounced off his back. Touya turned to give you the evil eye, daggers in his gaze.

“Keigo and Rumi will be here soon, can you just wait?” you asked.

On your other side, Shouto made an unhappy grunt, leaning out from behind you to give Touya a narrow-eyed little gaze. “Y/N is busy. Do not interrupt,” he said primly.

Touya grunted. “Y/N isn’t yours, you little shit. Y/N is my friend.”

Shouto puffed up next to you, little hand gripping your shirt. “Y/N is mine, Touya.” His mismatched gaze was intense where it fixed on his older brother, like he was trying to set him on fire with his eyeballs.

You shifted in between them with years of long practice, blocking their line of sight. Brothers.

“I really want to play house, if only someone would stop arguing and play with me,” you said, making sure to sound extra pathetic. That always got Shouto.

As expected, he immediately abandoned Touya, patting you as if to reassure you. “Of course I will play with you, Y/N,” he pronounced solemnly, like he was declaring some oath of office.

You snorted, turning back to Shouto’s kitchen playset with him. It had been Touya’s first, several years ago when you first visited the Todoroki house. Back then he still deigned to play with it, bossing you around like the alpha of the house, though you didn’t quite think he was going to grow up as one. Then you’d gotten too old for it, preferring video games or board games or ranging around the neighborhood, up to little good.

Today was a rare day that Keigo was permitted to come out and run around the neighborhood with you, but you had to wait for him to get here first with Rumi. And so you’d allowed Shouto to drag you over to the kitchen set while you waited, he its final owner.

“What shall I make you, Mr. Todoroki?” you asked Shouto, shifting the little plastic frying pan around on the wooden stove top. “I make a mean sliced banana. Or a sandwich, or chicken.”

Shouto moved to sit next to you, peering at his options. “I want to make it with you.”

You smiled. “You don’t want me to cook it for you?”

Shouto shook that mop of scarlet and white hair. “I want to do it together.”

You laughed. “Alright, then how about you cut up the veggies for our sides and our sandwich, and I’ll cook the chicken.”

Shouto laid out a myriad of plastic vegetables on the counter, levering his plastic knife through the velcro in their center with great concentration. You tried not to reach out and pinch his cheek for how cute he was. You didn’t understand how Touya got so annoyed with all his younger siblings when they were this sweet.

You got to work frying your plastic pile of chicken, laying it out on fake plates across the carpet when you were done. Shouto carefully placed the sliced vegetables next to it, and then the two of you bent over the pieces of a sandwich, layering in the plastic onion, tomato, lettuce, and bread.

“Shall we make you up a plate, Touya?” you asked. Touya just flashed you a rude gesture from the couch.

“This is only for you,” Shouto insisted, pushing your plate at you. You grinned down at him, passing over the fake cutlery.

“Well thank you, chef Shouto. I am honored to be worthy enough of your cooking,” you said.

Shouto’s little cheeks flushed, as if embarrassed. He pretended to take a bite out of his sandwich, and then a swig out of his fake bottle of milk.

“So, how was work?” he asked, out of nowhere.

You blinked at him, then startled into another laugh. Oh, so he wanted to play real house, like you were married. So funny.

You pretended to take a thoughtful bite of your own meal. “Very busy and tiring,” you said. “I couldn’t wait to come home.”

Shouto scooted a little bit closer to you, pushing some of his fake veggies at you, their velcro innards rolling. “You need to eat a lot to keep your energy,” he pronounced. “Until I can make enough money that you do not have to work so hard.”

You grinned. So he thought he was going to be the breadwinner, huh? Not super traditional for an omega, but times were changing. You couldn’t imagine an alpha who wouldn’t want to provide for sweet little Shouto, though, so that was something he and his life mate were going to have to negotiate.

“We’re already rich, idiot,” Touya said from the couch. “Mom said we all have an inheritance.”

Shouto’s eyebrow twitched, like he was annoyed Touya was intruding on this private domestic discussion.

“Then you can have my inheritance,” he insisted to you, though you knew he had absolutely no idea what that meant.

You pretended to think on this.

“What if I use some of it to open my bookstore, and then pay you back the profits?” you asked.

Touya thought your dream of a bookstore was stupid, so you anticipated his annoyed grunt from the couch. But you still liked the idea of it. Ever since you were little, you’d wanted to own one of the brick-faced shops right along the waterfront, somewhere you could walk to from your house. You’d pile it high with thousands of books and plants and string-lights and have all your friends come over after hours to hang out.

You didn’t want to leave your hometown like so many people did. You wanted to make a home right here on the coast, where you could watch over your mom and hang out with Shouto and Touya and Keigo and Rumi.

Though these days you’d become aware that starting a business required upfront money first. Hopefully you would figure out how to get some by the time you graduated highschool. But the Todoroki inheritance would work nicely for your fantasy bookstore.

“You do not have to pay me back the profits,” Shouto insisted. “If we are married.”

You laughed. “Right, right. Then they’re our profits.”

“This is sickening,” Touya said, his voice muffled into a pillow.

You wiggled your eyebrows at Shouto, considering saying something that would bait Touya, but then the doorbell rang. Touya shot up off the couch, rushing over to let in his saviors.

“Looks like Keigo and Rumi are here,” you told Shouto. “Thank you for a delicious dinner.”

Some tiny flicker crossed Shouto’s serious little face, something like annoyance, which you so rarely saw on him. “I want to make it together again.”

You nodded, patting his fluff of multicolored hair. “Yeah, we’ll do it again. Next time we’ll even do dessert, okay?”

Shouto looked momentarily appeased. “And you’ll eat it all. So you have energy.”

You laughed, yanking on one of the strands of his hair fondly. “Absolutely. You take such good care of me, Shouto.”

A pleased little smile turned the corner of his mouth. He placed a hand on your knee as you heard Keigo and Rumi spill into the house, the rustle of Rumi and Touya immediately tussling.

“I will take good care of you always,” Shouto said seriously. “You have my word.”

“I trust it,” you said. And you knew he meant it.

Todoroki Shouto was such a sweet boy, and he was going to make someone a very good not-pretend husband one day. You waved to him as Rumi looped a nut-brown arm over your neck, pulling you outside.

These days, you’d been aware that life was not going to be as stable as you’d always assumed it would be as you grew up. But you hoped you’d still be around to see Shouto grow up too, married and happy like that with his own real life partner some day.

You wondered where you would be when that finally happened.

Now

The next few days proved a test of your resolution to be normal about Shouto.

Everywhere you went, it seemed like Shouto was there—or maybe you were the problem, finding yourself drawn to wherever he was.

You took meals at the Todoroki house a couple more times, eating them out of house and home like you had as a teen—Shouto always stopping by too to eat something on his way on or off a shift. Twice your morning runs had taken you by the fire station, only to see a pair of mismatched eyes tracking you curiously from the engine bay, burning hot on your back as you quickly scurried away, feeling insane.

Shouto joined Touya when he met you and Rumi and Keigo for drinks one evening, Touya looking just as chagrined to have his baby brother tagging along as he had when you were kids.

“Shouto-duty,” he’d growled, the same as when you were little and he was charged with Shouto’s care. Shouto’s face had gone carefully blank, the paragon of innocence, and you’d laughed as he angled himself into the booth across from you.

Of course you’d quickly shut up when he’d pressed his calf up against yours, his long legs unfurling under the table. You’d quickly jerked your leg aside to make space for him, but he stretched out further, an ankle pressing to yours. He didn’t seem to mind, although it made your face warm for some reason.

Shouto had been good company, and had patiently endured Rumi’s hair ruffling and Keigo’s incessant teasing. He’d even walked you home at the end of the evening, like a protective alpha, even though you were not an omega and could damn well take care of yourself. And he’d lingered as you’d unlocked the door, smiling his tiny, careful little smile, and looking almost like he was waiting for something.

You’d bitten out a strangled good night and quickly barricaded yourself inside the house, lest you do something stupid.

That had the unfortunate effect of making you feel even more like a girl returning home from a date, however, and your mother had been almost beside herself with glee when she’d caught a hint of Shouto’s scent as you’d jerked the door closed behind you.

“An alpha?” she’d prompted again, abandoning her soap opera to lean over the couch arm eagerly.

“It’s just Shouto,” you’d explained hastily, waving your arms, a little loose with the drinks you’d had. “It’s not anything.”

Your mother’s eyebrows had gone up. “I thought he was your child bride.”

You hissed, shushing her, casting a stricken glance at the open window. You hoped Shouto had turned around immediately and gotten out of hearing range or you were going to have to kill your own mother.

“He is like my orderly, helping me off the shuttle back into the retirement home,” you said, turning and emphatically shedding your jacket and shoes, effectively ending the conversation.

But that hadn’t been the end of it. You’d seen Shouto a million times more since then, culminating in a final sighting the night before the run.

You’d ducked out to the grocery, intent on gathering up a day’s worth of supplies for the run. For most people it was over within a few hours—omegas had a thirty minute head start but usually went no further than a mile out, the ritual no longer the strict test of a mate it might have been back before things like showers and wifi and nine-to-fives were invented. But you always went to the coast, a hike of at least an hour or two, and you needed to stay up your tree for at least a few more while the more daring omegas who’d come out around you were summarily hunted down and properly bedded.

With the hike back accounted for, it usually took up most of the day, and you’d long learned your time was best spent with a book, a few bottles of water, and several snacks on hand.

You recognized Shouto’s distinctive mop of hair and broad shoulders as soon as you turned onto the produce aisle. He’d seemed somehow to sense you already—though betas were notoriously harder to scent than omegas—mismatched eyes already pinned to you as you rounded the corner.

You startled, your basket jerking in your grip.

“Hi Shouto,” you said, sidling up to him.

Shouto watched you approach, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. “Y/N,” he intoned, peering curiously into your basket. A long-fingered, elegant hand reached out to touch the snacks you’d gathered there, everything but the apple you’d been targeting when you’d turned into this aisle.

“For the run?” Shouto guessed, eyes darting back up to catch yours.

You could feel your face flushing in acknowledgement of the ridiculousness of your participation. “Yes,” you said, dredging up a grin. You were happy to see him. “With any luck, and a heaping dollop of guilt, hopefully my last ever. I’m going all out.”

Something flickered behind Shouto’s eyes, a sort of glint you’d never seen before. For some reason the hair on the back of your neck raised. Maybe an alpha thing.

“With any luck,” he repeated, his voice rich, strangely deep.

You wiggled your basket of snacks at him. “What about you? Making preparations for the big day?”

Shouto’s eyes followed the basket as you dropped it back down to your side. “Yes. I was hoping to make something, for after.”

Your eyebrows shot up, a wave of helpless affection for him rising in you. “For your life mate? To take them home to?”

Shouto nodded, his scarlet and white strands falling into his eyes. He was so, so good.

You couldn’t help but reach out and pinch him, right on his rib cage. “You are too pure to be related to your family.”

Shouto blinked, eyelashes fluttering. His gaze was a little darker where it caught yours again. “I would not be so sure.”

You took a step back, slightly startled by this assertion. Another flush heated your cheeks, and you pinched him again for good measure. “Respect your elders’ opinions, brat.”

Shouto’s gaze softened, and he stepped closer, catching your fingers in his before you could do too much damage. Your heart hammered to a stop in your chest, your hand suddenly burning beneath his.

“Let me make you something,” he said, his tone dipping low again.

A surprised breath escaped you. “Like lunch? For tomorrow?”

Shouto watched you for a long moment before answering. “That, as well.”

“Oh, then you meant like, for dinner tonight?” You frowned, wracking your brain for his meaning, and coming up short.

That wry little smile played about Shouto’s mouth again. “Yes, dinner tonight, too.”

You squinted at him, unclear what he was trying to do here. “Touya says you’re a shit cook and that’s why you come eat all Rei’s cooking.”

Shouto’s face went pointedly blank. “I am passable.”

“I’ve heard conflicting reports.”

“Then perhaps you can help me.” Shouto’s fingers curled around yours more tightly. “I will purchase, and you direct the operation.”

Your mind suddenly flickered back, catching the wisp of an afternoon years ago, bent over Shouto’s fake plastic cookware, a tiny, round-faced Shouto insisting he’d provide for you. Cooking together, you directing Shouto to cut the plastic veggies along their velcro strips while you diligently fried your plastic chicken. Your heart swelled.

“In the interest of you not food poisoning your life mate your first night together, I’m willing to show you a thing or two,” you said, peering up at him, feeling slightly giddy.

Shouto’s mouth quirked. “I will watch carefully.”

You grinned. “Alright. What are we thinking for meals then?”

It turned out Shouto already had a plan in mind—fried chicken karaage, with marinated vegetable sides, and for lunch some jam-packed wanpaku sandwiches to keep your energy up out in the preserve tomorrow. He made a second pass through the snack aisle, seeming to pull in doubles or triples of everything you’d collected in your basket so far. Then he even snuck in two pieces of chocolate cake in the bakery section, crowned with little dollops of fresh whipped cream.

Shouto dumped your entire basket into his as well, holding you off with a strong arm when you made a grab for it, and ignored your protests all the way through checkout.

“Shouto, that’s my lunch, I should pay,” you insisted, getting a little hot in the face again when he was easily able to fend you off with one arm despite your genuine efforts. God, that was—you needed to not think about that.

“I once promised to take good care of you,” Shouto said, leading the way out of the store. You followed, realizing you had no idea where he lived now.

“You were a baby. You also promised me your entire inheritance,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Plus starting tomorrow you are going to have a life mate to provide for.”

Shouto turned to look down at you, eyes dragging down your face. “I will.”

“Okay then we’re agreed,” you said, digging around in your bag for his change. Shouto’s stride lengthened, however, like he was trying to dodge you. You hurried after him, swearing like Touya, and found yourself all but chasing him towards the waterfront, suddenly freezing when Shouto turned onto one of the shop-lined streets, stopping just before a familiar little brick building.

“Shouto—you live above this?” you asked, creeping forward to look in through the window.

The shop stood empty, as it had the day you’d graduated high school, but you could see it was well-maintained, new flooring installed in a warm light wood and windows shined to crystal clarity. “I used to be obsessed with this place, this is where I thought my bookshop was going to be!” you said, unsure if you were talking to Shouto or yourself.

The soft clink of Shouto’s key paused in the door. “I know,” he said. “I remember you telling me.”

You turned back to him, smiling. “That was a million years ago and you were like, barely out of the womb.”

Shouto’s eyes pinned you with an alarming intensity, grey and blue points burning through you. “I remember everything you have ever told me.”

Your breath wooshed out of you, leaving you startlingly vulnerable. You desperately scrambled for verbal cover. “I—you are so full of it. You weren’t even speaking words yet when I met you.”

Shouto’s mouth quirked again, and he gestured you inside. You followed behind him, trying not to admire the way his broad shoulders filled up the breadth of the stairwell, the way his thighs bunched in his jeans as he took the stairs.

No. That way lay danger.

Shouto’s apartment had the same lovely blonde wood across the floors as the shop downstairs, and a huge bay window overlooking the coast where you imagined you could see the sun come up over the water in the mornings. The rest of the apartment was modern in style, though strangely minimalist, as though Shouto hadn’t filled it with very many of his own things.

“My life mate will need room,” he explained, unloading the groceries on the counter.

Your heart twisted at that, and you purposefully set about drinking in your fill of Shouto’s space before someone else filled it in for him. You admired the large, cushiony couch, chosen as if Shouto had imagined a thousand nights cuddled up on it with someone else, what appeared to be a super old but working fireplace, and the neatly arranged rows of hanging copper pots, which you could tell almost never got used.

It smelled like him, his alpha scent everywhere, like sweet campfire smoke on a cold breeze. It made you want to curl up in here and never leave.

“It’s amazing, Shouto. Your mate is going to just die over this,” you said, totally charmed.

You tried hard to ignore the little tinge of jealousy souring your gut.

Shouto’s gaze flashed up to yours, his long fingers arranging the groceries neatly on his countertops. “I would prefer if no one died,” he said solemnly.

You laughed. “You know what I mean.”

“I had hoped you would like it,” Shouto said, something pleased in his deep tone.

“I love it. You’ll have to invite me back over next time I’m in town,” you said.

Shouto’s fingers hesitated over a tomato, and a small, shy sort of smile pulled at his mouth as he peered down at it. “Perhaps even sooner.”

You blinked, mystified. You weren’t going to have time before you left for the city again, not with the run tomorrow, and definitely not if Shouto spent the traditional several days curled up here with his life mate afterwards.

“Yeah sometime,” you said vaguely, trying not to think too hard on it.

You had sort of enjoyed being Shouto’s favorite when you were kids, your time and attention prioritized even above Touya’s. But Shouto was all grown up now and it was time for him to have a new favorite—you probably hadn’t been his since you’d graduated and disappeared into the city to generate parental support money. It had been years.

“Anyway let’s get this stuff prepped, sous-chef Shouto,” you said, coming around the counter to his side. “I’m thinking the old plan of attack—you slice the veggies, I’ll fry the chicken?”

Shouto’s mouth pulled in a wider smile than you’d seen in a long time, a heart-stoppingly handsome flash of white. You gripped the counter carefully.

“I’d like that,” he said.

He set himself up with a knife and a cutting board, and set you up with a few small bowls for breading, flour, and egg. You noticed he sliced his vegetables a little more dexterously than the velcro veggies of years past—though certainly not expertly. The two of you worked in easy tandem as you whisked the egg, then laid all your chicken pieces out as you waited for the pot on the stove to warm.

The peace was only broken when Shouto suddenly leaned over you, bringing with him a puff of that delicious campfire scent. Your breath reflexively seized in your lungs as you froze, hyperaware of him as his hand went to the side of your hip. He gently pulled you out of range of one of his drawers, moving you like you were an expected piece of his kitchen—like his life mate he was long-used to dancing around, pressing close enough that you could feel the heat of him.

Something like electricity spiked across all of your nerve endings. You tried not to shiver with the feeling of Shouto’s soft exhale over your shoulder, the heavy weight of his hand on your hip as he slid open one of his drawers.

It took you a few moments to recover enough that you realized he’d been pulling out plastic wrap. He hadn’t been curled over your back just for the intimacy of it—god, you were such a fucking creep.

You peeled yourself out of Shouto’s hands and beat a hasty retreat to his fridge, scrounging around for the ingredients you’d need to make the vegetable seasonings. The warm kabocha and fried chicken were going to make perfect leftovers for Shouto and his mate to scarf down after a windy run along the coast tomorrow.

Maybe you’d try to make something similar when you made it back to your mom’s tomorrow. Although, come to think of it, you didn’t really want to be reminded of Shouto stuffed up back here with someone else.

A frown pulled at your mouth, and you pinched your thigh, gathering yourself back together. What Shouto did with his own life mate was none of your business. You needed to remember that.

When Shouto finished cutting up the vegetables you helped him arrange everything into two enormous sandwiches, then covered in plastic wrap and stowed in his fridge to set. He watched you carefully as you fried the chicken, hovering closely behind you like a tall, handsome shadow. You fought against some strange impulse to lean back against his chest, watching the chicken burble in the oil with an intense focus. Shouto didn’t seem to mind the sudden quiet, smiling a small half-smile when you turned back to him.

When it seemed ready, you fished the chicken out, setting it on paper towels to absorb the excess. Shouto followed you, taking hold of your face as you turned back to him.

You froze for the second time, pulse racing, as his fingers came up to brush along your cheek, just under your eye. The touch was gentle but firm, and his gaze swept over you assessingly. He seemed to linger for a long moment—until he came away with flour across his thumb.

A weird sense of disappointment twisted your gut as Shouto looked it over. How embarrassing.

“Oh, thanks,” you managed to say, swiping at your face yourself.

Shouto’s mouth quirked softly. “As I said, I did once promise to take care of you.”

Your face went warmer, and you deliberately did not think about how much you liked that. The only person taking care of you was you, and it was going to have to be that way for the foreseeable future. Flour was only flour.

“Again, you were a baby. You needed taking care of more than me,” you accused.

Shouto shifted closer, an intent look settling over his features. “I am not a child any longer.”

That much was upsettingly clear these days. But that was beside the point.

“Neither of us are,” you agreed. “And I assure you, other than the occasional flour mishap, I am excellent at taking care of myself now. You on the other hand, with all these unused pots…”

Shouto’s eyes lingered on your face. To your horror he absently brought his thumb to his mouth, tongue barely flicking out to lick the flour—and that ended the discussion immediately.

Your face immediately flamed, overcome with shit you absolutely should not be thinking, and you shooed him away to fetch plates. Shouto let himself be shooed, looking contemplative.

When he returned with plates, you busied yourself serving up two large portions of rice, followed by crispy golden fried chicken, cucumber salad, and soft, steaming kabocha. It all looked excellent, if you did say so yourself, practically Michelin-starred compared to the plastic meal you’d made together all those years ago.

Shouto led you over to the coffee table and you both took positions on the floor, your back against his couch.

“This reminds me so much of when we were little,” you said, grinning. “Except the couch is mercifully devoid of any complaining.”

The indent at the side of Shouto’s mouth deepened. “I prefer the lack of Touya as well.”

You laughed, biting into your chicken, pleased when it tasted as good as it looked. Hopefully Shouto’s life mate was going to love it. Shouto looked like he liked it too, his long eyelashes fluttering over the tops of his cheekbones as he chewed. Your stomach flipped.

“So how was work?” you asked Shouto, flipping the script on him from when he was younger.

An electric blue eye cut sideways towards you, like he remembered too.

“Very busy and tiring,” he repeated, almost an exact parroting of your words, if you remembered correctly. “I could not wait to come home.”

“You really do remember a lot,” you said, impressed.

Shouto took a mouthful of squash, chewing neatly. Was it normal to look that pretty when eating?

“As I said,” he said, something slightly smug in his voice.

You rolled your eyes—Todorokis—and took your own mouthful of food, chewing thoughtfully.

“You’re so similar and yet so different,” you informed him when you’d finished. “I’m sad I missed you graduating school, and the academy. You’ve really grown up into an amazing person, Sho.”

Shouto’s chopsticks wavered over his plate, and a pink flush stained his cheeks.

“I had always wanted you to think so, when we were younger,” he said slowly, eyes fixed on his plate.

You smiled. “You were so cute. I was always going to think so. Even when I thought you were going to grow up an omega and had no idea what career you might have wanted. You were just good, I think.”

The tip of Shouto’s ear went red, almost matching the left side of his hair.

You couldn’t help but continue, warmed by how much the praise clearly meant to him. “Touya was my best friend but I liked spending the time with you, even though you were that much younger. I am sorry I haven’t been able to stick around and spend more of it with you.”

Shouto took a deliberate bite of rice, like he was calming himself.

“Your job in the city,” he said, when he finished. “Do you like it?”

You shook your head, snorting. “It’s fine. If I had a say I’d be running that storefront just below us, but my job is at least guaranteed money for mom. I don’t mind, though I do regret not coming back here enough.”

Shouto seemed to take a moment to think on this. “But you would quit it, if you could,” he said.

You nodded. “Yeah, I think so. But like I said, it’s not so bad. And it’s pretty good money for a single income if I do say so myself.”

Shouto turned to watch you. “It would be easier if you had your life mate,” he said.

You paused, considering the weight of this statement. “Well yeah. But as you know, not everyone finds theirs. And as a beta I’m sort of stuck waiting for my life mate to find me—I’ve sometimes wondered if any of those alphas I hid up a tree from were actually it, all those years ago. But something tells me no. So I’m doing my own thing in the meantime.”

“Do you hope to find your life mate, this time?” Shouto asked, pinning you with an intense look. He’d abandoned his food it seemed, watching you with singular focus. It was slightly unnerving.

You wondered how best to answer without making him pity you.

“I’ve always hoped, but I’ve never counted on it,” you said. “But one thing is for certain—I wouldn’t accept just anyone. I’m not going to end up like my parents did.”

Shouto’s fingers shifted on the table top, and he seemed to be holding them out to you. You carefully placed your hand in his, gratified when his hand closed over yours, thumb smoothing your skin.

“You are not,” Shouto said, sounding sure. “You will have a life mate who has cared for you and will care for you his whole life.”

He sounded like he meant it. He was so sweet all these years later.

You flushed, embarrassed by his declaration. “Okay. I’ll—trust you on that.”

Shouto looked satisfied, letting your hand go so you could return to your food. You both scarfed down the rest of your meals, like the two of you were storing up enough energy for tomorrow, and then Shouto pressed a slice of chocolate cake on you, too, insistent.

He watched you eat it with the supervisory focus of a mother—or an alpha with his omega, a thought that you immediately put back out of mind.

You let him feed you too much, happy for the extra time in his company, laughing and chatting and reliving shared memories. You insisted on helping him with the dishes, too, washing everything as he packed up the leftovers, and then sorted out your prepared sandwich and the snacks he’d purchased for you. He didn’t let you out of his sight even as he did so, moving in front of you to block your access to your bag when you remembered you owed him money.

Shouto kept hold of it on the way to the door, too, so you couldn’t dig out cash and fling it before running out—he really did know too much about you after all these years.

Once he surrendered your bag to you, he leaned forward, fingers finding the side of your face again, cupping it and turning it up to his.

You went perfectly, embarrassingly still in his hold, breath coming short. His thumb smoothed across your cheek, and a private little smile pulled at his mouth.

“I will see you tomorrow,” he promised, his tone rich and dark, like the chocolate cake you’d just had.

You barely resisted a shiver, having to manually kickstart your lungs again, breathing in and out deliberately.

“Only if your life mate goes so far,” you said. “I hope for your sake they keep things easy.”

Shouto’s smile widened a bit. “They will not.”

You tried not to be too irritated at whoever it was. Only an idiot would make it so hard for an alpha like Todoroki Shouto.

“Well then, good luck,” you told him. “I’ll be on the lookout for you from my tree. And I’ll have snacks if you need them.” You rattled your bag.

Shouto’s eyes roved over your face, something warm in his gaze. “You will see me,” he said. “Though I do not plan to need any luck.”

Okay that was—he was not allowed to be that confident. That damn omega had no idea how lucky they were.

It took everything you had to wrench yourself away from him, only the knowledge that he was meant for someone else carrying you away. You made yourself salute him, smiling. Then you bid him good night, promising to text him when you got in, and scurried off to your mother’s house, trying to put yourself on the right track again.

You scolded yourself as you readied for bed, dropping a kiss on your mother’s head as you passed her asleep on the couch. You would not be a weenie about this. You were, at least, glad that Shouto was going to find his happiness tomorrow.

Even if you envied them even more tonight after seeing the life Shouto had built for them to share. Even if you wished, despite all odds, that you could find a life mate to share yours, too.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto x you #shouto x reader #shouto x y/n #todoroki x you #bnha x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #andie's writing #character: todoroki shouto

1K notes · View notes

andpierres · 3 months ago

Text

it's almost time for BATPACKS!! 🦇 crowdfunding on backerkit begins in TWO WEEKS, and there's a lot to announce before then still!

coming in at a hefty 12 inches tall, batpacks make perfect travel companions whether you're taking the train, heading to a convention, leaving on vacation, and or just hitting the town!

made from soft polyurethane leather with a nylex insert that resists wear and tear, so you can opt to use this little guy as an ita bag if you like!

funds permitting, there are currently 9 planned colors of batpacks that will become available over the course of the crowdfundung campaign -- which ones are your favorites? 🦇🖤

follow the 🔗 in the reblogs to sign up for our pre-launch mailing list to get notified as soon as the batpacks go live on 9/1/24! ��

#batpacks #artists on tumblr #batpack #bats #backerkit #ids in alt #if i end up blazing this i need you all to be really niceys to me about it ❤️

604 notes · View notes

xpressdesign · 1 month ago

Text

Need town planning permits in Melbourne? Xpress Building Design offers expert assistance for seamless approvals. Visit https://xpressbuildingdesign.com.au/plans-and-permit/ to explore our comprehensive services today.

#Town planning permits

0 notes

xpressbuildingdesign · 1 year ago

Text

Discover a stress-free path to project approval with Xpress Building Design's Plans and Permits services. Our experts navigate regulations, ensuring a seamless journey for your architectural vision in Australia. From initial consultation to meticulous documentation, trust us to expedite your town planning permits and building approvals. Elevate your construction or renovation project with our efficient and reliable services, designed to simplify the complexities of local ordinances. Choose Xpress Building Design for a smooth and accelerated journey from concept to approval. Explore our comprehensive offerings and empower your architectural dreams today.

#Plans and permits #Town planning applications #Town planning permits

0 notes

abbyromanoff · 1 year ago

Note

Hello bestie! I hope you’re doing better <3

This is only a request if they’re open, if not enjoy the thots!

Stepmom!Nat finding reader humping a couch or anything in the area to get off cause her one night stand left her horny. R’s mom is out of town and Nat starts getting hard and realizes it’s now or never to have and cum inside her stepdaughter.

WHAT ARE YOU DOING?

PAIRINGS: Natasha Romanoff x reader

WORD COUNT: 1956

WARNINGS: step parent/step child relationship, cheating (Nat is married to R’s mom, talks of unfulfilling marriages, Nat has a dick, smut obvi, jealousy, hook ups, 69’ing, masturbation, cunnilingus, mentions of anal, blowjobs, denied orgasm, praise, degrading, age gaps (legal), R is 19-20 ish and Nat is late 30’s - early 40’s, think that’s all :)

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!

She listened with a scowl as the bed from your room creaked, small moans being heard through the wall. This wasn’t fair, how could you do this to her? How could you bring a girl home, have a rushed introduction between her and Nat, and then disappear into your room where you let her touch you? She was the one meant to do that, she was the one meant to take your innocence and ruin you for anyone else, yet here you were with another.

She wasn’t able to deny the fact that your small moans turned her on, but she could tell they were fake. She could differentiate the silent, hidden sounds you’d let out while calling her name as your fingers slid in and out of you quickly from this. You were most likely imagining her, which was the reason you kicked the girl out only a few moments later.

She shouldn’t be feeling this way, you were her stepdaughter, her wife’s child. But she never truly loved your mom, she was rich and alone and seeking for any sort of love that your mom bombarded her with, she thought that’s what always happened. She thought it was normal to grow sick of your lover, to dread them coming home from work, to deny them constantly of sex and only use it as a way to get off. She never knew true love, and she blamed that on her parents. But she wanted it, she wanted to love that woman so badly, yet over time she realized it wasn’t that she craved her, she craved the person she created.

Her sleepless nights were caused by your lingering voice, the images of you beneath her, and the desire to kiss your plump lips. You constantly were bringing home someone else, and it took everything in her not to rip you away from them and have you for herself. She had self-control, her job required such, but with you it was a different story. She wasn’t able to focus at work, she’d toss the papers across the room and throw her head in her hands. But then you’d arrive.

You begged for a job there, to be her assistant or lower-class worker stating you needed the money desperately. She wasn’t able to deny your pleading eyes or the warm feeling in her chest. You’d bring her lunch oftentimes before, but having you work for her full-time was a dream come true. She would more than likely struggle even more to keep her composure, but she lost all care for that months ago.

The door slammed shut and she assumed your one-night stand finally left, which took long enough. She was planning to rush into your room and finally take what was hers, even standing right in front of the entrance with a fist to the door. Then she heard a small buzzing. The door was cracked open just a tiny bit, she guessed the girl was too lazy to even close a door properly but she couldn’t have been more thankful. She lowered her arm and listened closely, pressing her ear against the hardwood and biting her lip as your moans arrived once again, this time they weren’t forced.

“F-fuck! Mhm, right there, Nat, right there-“ You cut yourself off with a hand covering your mouth, your fear of being heard finally coming to mind. Your stepmother wasn’t pleased, she wanted to hear everything just like Carol got to. At least she thinks her name is Carol, she didn’t care enough to listen or shake the waiting hand earlier.

“‘M gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” Came your muffled scream, your legs starting to shake from the denied orgasms sent your way. Now you were getting release, and the one woman on your mind was Nat, how pathetic. Not only was she your boss, but she was also your mother's wife. She was much too old for you and you both knew that, but that didn’t stop the want in your heart.

“You look so pretty when you cum, little slut.” You nearly jumped out of your bones, rushing to cover yourself but failing to turn off the vibrator, leaving a deadly silence filled with buzzing.

“Don’t cover yourself, baby, I wanna see you.” She stalked forward, cupping her crotch as her thumb ran circles around her clothed tip. She fiddled with her shirt before pulling it off, exposing her black bra and breasts that were aching to be freed. You gulped, trying to look away from the sight in shame but not being able to.

“You’re- you’re gorgeous, Nat.” She blushed at your comment, her knee landing on the bed as she crawled towards you, resting your chin in her fingertips. She leaned closer, her gaze switching between your lips and your eyes as she begged for permission. You took a moment to respond but eventually nodded slowly, causing her to press her mouth against yours in a slow but sensual kiss. Her hands rested your hair behind your ear, her body pulling closer as her cock was now throbbing. If you looked close enough, you could see a small wet stain soaking through her pants, she hoped you didn’t notice. But she also wanted you to, she wanted you to see how much she craved your body against hers.

“I’ve been wanting to do that since the moment I saw you.” She confessed, experiencing relief when you smiled, kissing her softly in return. You were already growing addicted to the feeling, wanting to stay in this exact position for the rest of your life. But she wasn’t yours, she was a married woman, a woman married to your mother, at that.

“No-…no, we can’t-“

“Why not?” Her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion, her eyes ranking over your worried expression as your breathing picked up ever-so-slightly

“You’re married… to my mom. You’re my stepmom!” She shushed you with a finger to your lips, smirking gently as her hot breath fanned over your face.

“Not tonight. Tonight I’m your Mommy, you got that?” You whimpered and it nearly resulted in a moan from the older woman. Hearing you get like this all for her turned her on so greatly, she couldn’t even explain. Your mother was never exciting in the bedroom, or Nat just didn’t like the things she wanted to do. But she found herself wanting to do them with you, she wanted to do anything and everything with you.

“Tell me what I want to hear, angel.” Her hips created a small thrusting motion the harder she got, it was becoming impossible to ignore her needs. You gulped, fighting back tears of shame as you whispered,

“You can be my Mommy, Nat.” She left a peck on your forehead and slowly removed the sheets hiding her prize. Her final destination.

“God, you don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to get a taste of this sweet, sweet pussy.” She didn’t let you even utter a word before spreading your legs and pressing her tongue against your heat. Your hand instantly returned to its original placing over your mouth in order to keep silent. You knew your mother wouldn’t be home for a few more days, but what if that cut short? What if she somehow caught a virus and had to leave early and planned on surprising the two of you? Not only was the fear of being caught roaming freely in the back of your mind but so were your nerves. Nobody had ever truly seen this side of you, where you were beyond ecstatic and touch-starved. Nobody had ever felt you tug desperately on their arm to bring them closer, Nat wasn’t like the others. She was strong with her biceps nearly bulging out of her suit jackets daily. Her kiss was soft, even when she was hungry for a different part of you. You could sense that she truly wanted to taste you and didn’t just do so to get you wet, you were already dripping onto the sheets before she even wrapped her tongue around your pulsing clit.

“So precious,” She muttered, instantly returning to her previous position. She pressed your folded legs against your chest for a better angle, and the moan that left you in return could’ve been considered pornographic. Her tongue briefly slid across your second hole and caused a small thrust from your end, your body yearning for her to repeat.

“Oh, Mommy..” Her moan sent a thrill through your entire being, it seemed to be the only reaction she was able to give you. She was scared to show you her true aspirations. She was scared to have you see the impulses she’d try to stop in worry that you’d run. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to claim you as hers but treat you like you were nothing but a toy for her to use. She’d just have to get you attached to her, then you’d comply with anything she said.

Images flashed through her head, ones where you were sat on your knees, her cock trapped deep inside of your throat while her hand held you firmly in place, forcing you to take all of her. She knew you could do it, she had faith in you.

“‘M sorry, baby, I need you too fucking bad.” She reluctantly pulled away from you and patted you softly, leading you to kneel in front of her. She laid in the same position you had been when she guided your mouth to her crotch, your thighs tightening around her head before she continued her previous acts. Her tongue licked stripes up your weeping cunt as you pulsed around nothing, the sobs coming from your mouth being silenced as it was met with her drooling tip. You sucked weakly, the tiredness catching up to you as you gathered the strength to stroke her balls softly. Her hips jutted upward, resulting in a small gag as she fell deeper inside of you. You didn’t stop it, you didn’t even try as you let her do all the work. She was fucking you and guiding you to fuck her. Teaching you how to do everything just like always, just how she liked it. She enjoyed being a leader to you, she found it unbearably arousing to see your eyes looking up at her, asking for help.

You felt your orgasm approaching and tried to warn her, but she could already sense it.

“It’s okay, you can cum all you want.” She seemed to know you better than you knew yourself. The thought worried you, but you didn’t have much time to ponder as you felt your stomach repeating a clenching until you screwed your eyes shut, your vision going blank as you could see stars forming all around you.

She was greedy the moment she got her mouth on you, but now she seemed animalistic. Her hand came to your scalp, forcing you further down on her just like she had envisioned. You had no complaints in mind, choosing to instead swallow the hot liquid oozing out of her. She wished she could see your face right now: makeup ruined, eyes droopy, along with a small grin you wore.

“I wan’ more, Mommy,” She knew she succeeded when those were the words that left your mouth as soon as you were given the privilege to speak. She smirked, her thumb teasing the small hole that lined your ass. She had always found her sight landing on it whenever you’d pass by her, her thoughts seeming to have one more thing to feast on.

“Get on all fours, princess, I want to fuck this tight little hole next.”

2K notes · View notes

spacedace · 8 months ago

Text

“Hey, I need to get married for bullshit Infinite Realms reasons, you two in?”

“Tt, of course.”

“Sure thing! Do we need to get going for that like, right now? Or later?”

“Eh, like in a couple of hours? The Observants are demanding some Royal Ball or something and they pulled out some stupid old laws out of their collective asses that if I’m not married by the time it starts they can assign me spouses of their choosing, can you fucking believe that shit?”

“Woah, what the hell? Can they even do that?”

“I was under the impression they were only permitted to observe.”

“Right? It’s total crap, but apparently there’s like this super old law on the books and they didn’t bring it up until now when there’s like no time left to try and force me to marry someone they pick.”

“They are training to gain influence over you?”

“Eh, more like they’re trying to get control of my Dad by way of me. But still fucked as hell.”

“So why do you need to marry both of us? Or do you just need to marry one of us and we should play rock paper scissor for it?”

“Technically I only need to marry one of you, but I don’t want them pulling out any loopholes or something. So, it’d be great if one of you could be my consort for my role as Queen of Mirrors, and one could be my consort for my role as Crown Princess. You two can figure who’s who on that all that, I’m good with whatever.”

“Oooh, can I be consort for the Mirror Court? I can annoy Kon more that way.”

“I am amenable to that. Grandfather will have a fit when he learns that I can cut his access to the Pits off at my discretion and there’s nothing he can do about it.”

“Awesome, okay are you two good for meeting up at like, three? We can pop over to my Lair and get everything sorted out there.”

“Works for me, my only class til this afternoon is at one and the professor already said we’re cutting out early because she has to go out of town this weekend.”

“Four would be more agreeable if possible, I have to take Titus to the vet for his checkup.”

“Okay let’s aim for four then. It’s just signing some paperwork, making some quick blood-slash-ectoplasm pacts and swearing a couple binding oaths… Should only take like five or ten minutes?”

“They’re not gonna make you have a huge royal wedding or anything?”

“Nah. Dad keeps things pretty chill so as long as the paperwork is all in order we’ll be good. Though once Auntie Dorathea finds out she’s absolutely gonna make us have one. She loves planning weddings. Swear its what she makes her hoard out of somehow.”

“So long as we have a say in some of the proceedings I have no issue with that eventuality.”

“Same, it sounds like it’d be a fun way to annoy the Observants even more.”

“Don’t for get all the weirdos trying to be my suitors and all that bullshit.”

“We have an accord then. We can reconvene at the usual place.”

“Awesome, you two are the best! I gotta jet and let everyone know and get the ball rolling on the paperwork stuff. See you guys at four!”

With that, Nomad - Stella Phantom, Crown Princess of the Infinite Realms, Queen of Mirrors, Core of the Speedforce and ghostly hero of the Titans and the Justice League - tore a rip in the fabric of space and time and darted out of the room the same way she came. Through the mind-bending tear in reality the eerie, eye-searing green of the Infinite Realms glowed in all its unsettling glory, Phantom Keep a glittering expanse of night sky made solid in the distance.

Jon waved at her cheerfully as Damian gave a nod of farewell before both silently turned their attention back to their respective tablets as the portal closed behind their friend and teammate and the glimpse of the Ghost Zone disappeared again. Completely unbothered by the conversation just held or the life changing implications that came with them.

Jon was humming as he tapped away at something on the screen before him, Damian propping his head up on his fist in vague boredom as he frowned down at the information he was reading.

The rest of the room Nomad had left behind was caught in a frozen, stunned silence in the wake of the baffling conversation they’d all just been witness to. All eyes in the room darted between Flamebird and Pheonix seated calmly at the end of the table, then to the space where Nomad had disappeared to, back to the young men, and then towards the head of the table where Superman and Batman sat looking bewildered and a bit on the verge of heart attacks.

The short status update meeting was about to become much, much longer it seemed.

Though a lot more entertaining.

#dpxdc #dani phantom #danielle phantom #elle phantom #jon kent #jon el kent #damian wayne #justice league #super serious chaos #possible platonic super serious chaos it's up to yall #clones are called mirrorborn in the infinite realms #elle is the ancient of the speedforce #Dani Phantom is the Ancient of the Speedforce #I will make this happen if it kills me please someone else write something for this I'm going feral #impulsively marrying your friends to fuck with some of the most powerful entities in existence is a fun pass time everyone should try #their friends and family are exactly as unhinged as these three - sometimes even *More* unhinged - and can't say shit about it #so many justice league members are torn between sobbing because 'This was going to be a short meeting for once!' 😭#and being SO EXCITED because the chaos that is about to break out in this meeting room is going to be SO GOOD #There is so much tea that is going to be spilled at the cafeteria after this

582 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 9 months ago

Text

Prescott House Bed & Breakfast

IMGs: the Prescott house, gif of older Billy Loomis looking in the mirror with a bloody shirt, and sidney's open window at night

1.8k words, 40+ y/o!Billy Loomis x f!reader SUMMARY: You stay the night in Sidney Prescott's old room and leave the window open. WARNINGS: I8+ Billy is a ghost/hallucination that seems completely real. He's buff, has scruff, and has (somehow) aged like fine wine. P in V, creampie, light manhandling/restraint, hybristophilia (craving that criminal cock), mild degradation/teasing, pet names, somnophilia adjacent, blood.

For more than 25 years, the old Prescott house was empty and rotting. The last thing the City of Woodsboro wanted was to sensationalize the original murders with a tourist attraction that could inspire copycats. The house changed owners a few times, but the city would never grant permits for renovation, until a charming older couple from out of town bought it with plans to open a bed & breakfast.

You got a solo reservation for early October. The temperature was mild when you showed up just before dusk. If not for the pumpkins on nearly every doorstep, you might have thought it was September. A light breeze made the leaves dance across the yard as you walked up the path alone. A grandmotherly woman answered the door, and her husband was right behind her to take your bag. She offered you tea and snacks, and you chatted for a bit, then she showed you to your room. She never mentioned the Prescotts.

When she gestured to Sidney’s bedroom door, your heart skipped a beat. You had hoped, but didn’t want to ask for it over the phone. You entered the room, and she turned on the light.

Your hostess must have seen it in your face.

“Oh, is this okay?” she asked, concerned.

“Yes,” you nodded. “Yes, it’s perfect.”

As soon as you were alone, you turned off the lights, shut the door, took off your shoes, and laid down on the bed, on top of the covers. You thought about how Sidney lived there. Billy visited there. It was exhilarating just being between those walls.

When you went to shower, your heart raced as you checked behind the curtain. As usual, there was nothing. Nothing but energy. You brushed off your nerves as excitement, but there was a physical element you didn’t expect. The air felt heavy. Not stale, but thick, as if you were pushing through an invisible field as you moved.

In the shower, that feeling was overtaken by a buzz in your body. It felt you were vibrating with life. You used a shower cap, and the soap smelled like honey-almond. You thought about Billy, and warmth rushed to your loins. You’d thought about him so many times. You imagined him retreating to this very bathroom with blue balls and frantically jerking off. You imagined him looking in the mirror as he did it. You pictured the dark look on his face with all his terrible thoughts and urges simmering in the back of his mind as he stroked his cock. You thought about him coming into the toilet bowl, which made your chest erupt in goosebumps. You turned off the water and squeezed your thighs together as you let the water roll off you.

After taking off the shower cap and air drying for a minute, you toweled off, applied lotion, and put on a robe to go back to your room.

In your bedroom, you turned on a bedside lamp. You put on your white floral nightgown and frilly white socks. You slowly went around the room looking at everything. You weren’t sure anything was original, but the pastel floral bedspread had a nineties vibe. You looked in a mirror on the wall and felt like you were looking at someone else. Your fingers came to your face, and your cheek was hot to the touch. Your arms were, too, and your chest. The air was thick again, and it felt like you were moving in slow motion. You went to the window and pulled back the lace, cream curtains to have a look outside. It was hard to see with the glare, so you slid the bottom window pane up, then locked it in place. The breeze that swept in felt like heaven. There wasn’t much to see. You closed the curtains but left the window open.

You turned off the lamp as you got in bed. As you laid there in the slight moonlight, your body was throbbing with energy, but you were sleepy from your travels. The faint chirping of crickets lulled you to sleep without much difficulty.

A chill fell over the room in the middle of the night, stirring you half-awake. You felt exposed, but couldn’t reach the covers to pull them back up. Then you felt a weight descend on your hips. You opened your eyes to the looming silhouette of a man straddling you. Your heart jumped and you drew in a mouthful of air to scream, only for a large, cool hand to clamp down over your mouth. The man lowered his torso over yours and brought his mouth to your ear to warn, “Be quiet for me, babe.”

You struggled and whined into his palm. He brought his other forearm to your chest to hold you down roughly. “ Quiet ,” he demanded through gritted teeth. You nodded in compliance.

As your eyes adjusted, more details came into focus. His hair was messy and he had scruff. His shoulders were built. His biceps swelled out from his short sleeves. There was some dark, abstract design all over the front of his white t-shirt, which stretched over his strong pecs and the hint of a soft belly. He was in boxers. He was probably in his 40s.

He kneed your bare legs apart and you felt the cool air on your bare cunt as your eyes filled with tears. He smiled with one side of his mouth and it hit you like a freight train – Billy Loomis. He was too old, too built to be Billy, but his smile, and the glint in his eyes left no doubt in your mind. Your eyes widened, and your face softened. He braced his hands on either side of you and laid his hips into yours. What you felt against your front was warm, hard, and massive. You moaned into his hand, and a look of satisfaction spread across his face.

“Gonna be quiet for me?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

You were already dripping wet. You nodded.

“Good.” He slowly pulled his hand away from your mouth.

“Billy?” you whispered. Then he whispered your name back with a slow thrust against you that made you close your eyes and bite your lip in pleasure.

His pelvis lifted away, and through the cotton of his boxers, you could feel his heavy balls graze your leg as he moved to straddle a thigh. He was making room to wedge a hand between your legs. “ Mmm ,” he growled at first contact. He slowly rubbed you with three flattened fingers, just enough to gather your arousal and bring it to his lips. Your face heated up at the sight of blood on his fingers. He sucked his index finger and inhaled sharply through his nose. Then he sucked his other fingers clean and got back between your legs. He casually pulled his boxers down below his balls and ass, and his stiff cock bobbed heavily, hypnotizing you before he held his shaft in his hand with his thumb at the tip.

“You're one of those sickos ,” he taunted. “ into psychos like me .” He shook his head in mock disapproval. You didn't bother denying it. “That's okay, baby .”

He scrunched up your nightgown, hiked up your thigh, then lined himself up at your wet little hole. As soon as the tip hit your wetness, your walls were clenching, begging for it.

Holding your thigh and bracing a hand by your hip, he plunged his length into you, and his lips drew together with effort as his girth divided your insides. With a punch of his hips, he bottomed out and audibly released his breath. The stretch burned, but quickly faded. He paused and stared down at you, his chest and stomach expanding in rhythm with heavy breaths.

He released your thigh and you wrapped your legs around him. He withdrew a few inches, then shoved in again. He lowered himself so his tummy touched your middle as he began to pound you. He grunted and sighed quietly and and an orgasm brewed in your lower belly.

After a minute, he lowered more of his weight onto you, planting his forearms on your pillow on either side of your head. A salty drop of sweat fell in your mouth. His shirt was wet, and it seeped through to your gown. Your nipples sharpened under the damp fabric. He was giving it to you hard, and picking up the pace. The bed shook as he buried his length in you. He was bigger than you imagined. His whole body - bigger than any pictures you'd ever seen. Solid and strong. He felt realer than anyone you’d ever been with or even kissed.

Without easing up the power of his thrusts, he slowed down a bit and widened the stance of his arms to lower his forehead to the pillow. His scruff brushed your cheek. He stroked your other cheek with his thumb. After a few seconds, you moaned and he raised his head to meet your eyes. “Yeah,” he breathed, “I know what you want, baby.”

His cum, you wanted his cum.

You moaned as he hit the right spot and your lower torso tensed with the pressure of your building climax. He covered your mouth again, and his palm was warmer by then. You lowered your left left foot and watched his pale ass flex above the waistband of his boxers as he fucked you.

“Yeah,” he breathed, and that sent you over the edge. The pressure burst, and pleasure flooded your system with each wave of your peak. You whimpered into his hand.

“Fuck ,” he panted, fucking you through it as you clenched around him. He plunged to the hilt and erupted with a sigh. His moan was quiet but deep and drawn out, painting your insides with warm bursts. He backed up, then bottomed out again. And as you finished milking his cock, he brought his lips to yours. His lips felt full and soft. The kiss was smooth but aggressive, his tongue breaching your lips right away. He moaned into your mouth, releasing the last of his load. When he was empty, he broke the kiss with a sigh, then pulled out.

You tingled head to toe as your body brought itself back together again. He gently gripped your jaw and read your eyes. “Later, babe ” He gave you another kiss, closed mouth, before sitting back and pulling on his boxers. You laid in stunned silence as he exited through the window. You dipped a finger between your legs to check for your period, but you didn't find anything but cum.

You put on a robe and used your phone's flashlight to get to the bathroom, your body still buzzing everywhere. You looked in the mirror and almost dropped your phone when you saw your nightgown was smeared with dark blood.

---------

Thank you for reading! I have certain fantasies, and this one really wanted my attention. I used to have sleep paralysis.

#billy loomis #billy loomis smut #billy loomis x reader #ghostface x reader #female reader #cw somnophilia #toxicanonymity ☠️#dilf!billy loomis #hallucination!billy loomis #FIWB #ghostfacesmut #ghostface smut #ghostface x you #ghostface ☠️#ghost stuff

799 notes · View notes