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thewickedjazzy · 3 months ago

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Special week: Blurred Lines for Kinktober.

♡featuring: jjk & bsd x afab! reader.

ᡣ𐭩PHASE 1: geto & chuuya x reader

♡synopsis: being a movie star in the jjk world has its perks and pitfalls, especially when you find yourself face-to-face with four swoon-worthy men. to make things even more complicated, you end up sandwiched between chuuya and geto in one night.

♡warnings: ņsfw, mdņi 18+, established plot, smųt with plot, characters are aged up or in their 20s, threesome, double penetration, cum mentioned, double cream pie, unprotected sex, fingering, degradation 'slut' ... not proofreaded, ig that's it?

♡word count & a/n: 5.2k, a special thank you & a smooch to @remlionheart for helping my ass write this and feeding my brain with her sweet ideas. it was so amusing and fun to write that i couldn't stop giggling. this fic is dedicated to my bbg @bittysuguro

[check the jjk & bsd special week masterlist]

“what do you mean my card got declined?!” a furious voice echoes across the pristine, high-end louis vuitton boutique.

you pause mid-step, glancing over your shoulder. the boutique is one of the most luxurious on omotesando street, and you haven't expected any kind of outburst here, of all places and you can’t help but arch an eyebrow, pondering if he's trying to pay with monopoly money or if his bank account has suddenly taken a nosedive.

the subject of the chaos stands by the counter, fuming—he’s a redheaded man in a black designer coat with a flat cap pulled low over his striking blue eyes. he looks like he just walked out of a fashion editorial, except for the part where he is practically roaring at the terrified cashier and waving a gold card like a weapon.

you find yourself blinking once again—what in the world is going on?

“sir, i ran it three times, and each time��” the cashier stammers, flinching as the redhead leans over the counter like he is about to blow the place up.

“i know there’s money on it! RUN IT AGAIN!” he growls, and you swear you can see veins popping in his neck.

before the poor cashier can even protest further, another man saunters into view, tall, lean, and wearing the most obnoxiously casual yet designer outfit. white hair peeks out from under a pair of dark sunglasses, and despite the clear chaos, he is wearing the cockiest grin you’d ever seen.

“tsk..no need to get so worked up,” the white-haired man drawled, arms laden with five louis vuitton bags. “your poor is showing.”

the redhead whirls on him, eyes blazing. “what did you just say, you asshole?”

the taller man stands there unfazed with his shit grin spreading wider. “you heard me, short stack.”

the redhead’s whole body stiffens, and you half expect him to launch himself across the store. you are only a few paces away, casually browsing the new bags collection, but now you find yourself watching the scene unfold like a deer caught in headlights.

“oh, please,” the white-haired man replies with a chuckle, waving his hand dismissively. “you sure you wanna do this, kid?”

at that moment, the shorter guy’s feet literally lift off the ground as he floats up toward the white-haired man, arm cocking back for a punch. it's like some weird gravity-defying stunt, and you can't help but stare, unsure whether you are hallucinating or if this is a really elaborate prank. you half-expect someone to jump out and yell, “surprise! you’re on candid camera!” while someone else films your bewildered expression.

the punch swings forward but… stops. midair.

“what the—” the redhead sputters, his fist hovering a mere inch from the smug man’s face, like an invisible barrier is blocking it.

“oh,” the taller man snickers, “you actually tried.”

just as things are about to get out of hand, a third man appeared—a taller figure with dark hair tied back wearing a serene expression as if he just strolled in from a yoga session. he places a hand on the redhead’s shoulder, gently pulling him back to the ground.

“hey man, let’s not destroy the boutique today, alright?” he says, tone weary yet unbelievably calm, like he is used to this kind of chaos. his gaze shifts to the white-haired man whilst rolling his eyes. “saturo, stop antagonizing everyone you meet. people are staring.”

the redhead grumbles something under his breath, glaring daggers at the taller man—saturo?—who simply chuckles back at him.

just when you thought things couldn't get any worse, the fiery-haired man still glaring at gojo, like he’d just stolen his lunch money—suddenly turns his gaze toward you as if he can feel your eyes boring into him. “what are you staring at?”

he takes a step toward you, and you feel your body tense up like a live wire. you can't help but blink back at him, because honestly, what are you supposed to say? "oh sorry, just trying to figure out why a five-foot ball of rage is levitating in a louis vuitton boutique?"

before you can formulate any semblance of a response, a smooth voice cuts in, dripping with nonchalance, “now, now, chuuya, no need to take your frustration out on innocent bystanders.”

the ginger-haired man—chuuya, you think you heard—glare flickers with surprise as a tall man with messy brown hair sidles up next to him, his brown trench coat swaying with his lazy steps. you barely register him before he sweeps his hand out, pushing chuuya aside like a piece of furniture. “pardon my associate’s behavior. he’s always a little testy when his card gets declined.”

you blink. “huh…?”

the brown-haired man gives you a dazzling smile, the kind that should come with a warning label. “ahh but you…” he trails off, letting his dark eyes roam over your figure with a look of pure delight. “such a wonderful sight. how can such a radiant beauty even exist in this world?” his voice dips, smooth and syrupy, and you can practically hear the faint sound of violins playing in the background.

chuuya’s eye twitches as he scowls at dazai. “are you seriously doing this right now?”

dazai ignores him entirely, stepping closer to you. “osamu dazai, by the way. and you must be the goddess gracing us with your presence today. It’s an honor to bask in your light.” he flashes you a grin, the kind that looks practiced but somehow genuine, and you’re not sure if you should be flattered or call security.

“i—uh—” you stammer, caught off guard by the sudden shift in the situation.

before you can utter another word out, the white-haired man—saturo, you assume, based on the way the other man addressed him—suddenly whips around, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough to reveal his gorgeous icy blue eyes, narrowing his gaze on you.

his entire demeanour shifts in an instant, going from casual smugness to absolute starstruck fanboy in 0.5 seconds. “wait… wait a damn minute—” his eyes widen, and he practically leaps forward, shoving dazai to the side like an afterthought. “you… you’re—no way, it's you! you’re my favourite movie star!”

dazai, now comically stumbling from the shove, frowns, “hey, i was talking first!”

saturo doesn’t even hear him, his attention laser-focused on you as he runs a hand through his white hair, grinning like an excited puppy. “holy shit, i’ve seen all your movies! you’re incredible! i mean, not just pretty—you’re talented too! that last film? chef’s kiss. truly. pure brilliance.”

you stare at him flabbergasted by the sudden barrage of praise. “uh… thanks?”

saturo claps his hands together and then turns to dazai with a smug smirk. “sorry, what were you saying? something about basking in her light?”

dazai, ever the smooth operator, recovers quickly, “wait a minute…” he muses, leaning slightly closer to saturo, “you know, your voice is kind of… nice.” he cocks his head as if discovering a new piece of an intriguing puzzle. “almost like i’ve heard it somewhere before… perhaps in a mirror?”

saturo's eyebrows shoot up, a look of surprise briefly crossing his face before his smug grin returns again. “well, well, aren’t you observant?” he says, hands casually stuffed into his pockets as he looks dazai up and down. “i guess i should compliment your taste then—great minds and great voices think alike.” he chuckles, and you can almost feel the mutual smugness radiating off the two men.

chuuya, who has been silently simmering through the whole exchange, finally explodes. “are ya both fuckin’ serious right now?” he growls, fists clenching at both his sides. “first, i’ve gotta deal with him”—he jabs a finger toward dazai—“and now this jackass too?” his foot taps impatiently on the boutique's polished floor, like he's ready to fight both of them.

“chuuya tsk.. tsk you're just upset because your little card got declined.” he shakes his head chuckling, “i didn’t know the economy would reject you specifically. but you know, you could always start a gofundme or maybe, uh i don’t know, pawn that fancy hat of yours?” he smirks playfully. “i hear they pay well for vintage."

saturo chuckles, clearly enjoying their little banter chaos. “hey, i like this guy! he’s got jokes.” he leans over toward dazai. “you sure we didn’t cross paths before?” then, turning his attention back to you with a teasing glint, he adds, “don’t worry, sweetheart—i’m still your best bet if you’re looking for a hero.” his eyes glimmer with flirtatious arrogance, as if he’s already planned your honeymoon by now.

chuuya throws his hands up in exasperation, shooting dazai an accusatory glare. “this isn’t funny, dazai! how the hell are we even supposed to survive in this weird-ass world when my damn card doesn’t work? not to mention that this is your fault for bringing us to this ridiculous place!”

the bandaged man sighs briefly, slipping into a serious look, “you're right. but I guess it's time to become a street performer. i mean, with your size, you’d make an adorable little tap dancer. might even make some decent pocket change.”

“you son of a—”

“enough!” the hot black-haired guy, who had been silently observing, steps forward, placing a firm hand on chuuya’s shoulder again. “we’re in public. can we try to act like civilized people for five minutes?”

chuuya grumbles, his fists still clenched, but the black-haired guy’s firm grip on his shoulder seems to anchor him enough to stop an all-out brawl. he glares between the two idiots in front of him—dazai still grinning like a smug bastard and saturo, who looks like he’s already planning his next punchline.

saturo straightens, his grin shifting slightly. “ugh suguru..don’t be such a killjoy.” he gestures lazily at dazai, “i was just making a new friend.”

chuuya scoffs. “friends? yeah, right. who the hell are you guys anyway?”

“just… tell them your name already. this isn’t a fight club.” suguru rolls his eyes.

saturo shrugs, turning his attention back to you and flashing that million-watt grin. “well, since suguru insists.” he dramatically puts a hand to his chest as if introducing himself for the first time. “i’m gojo satoru. the strongest sorcerer and uh apparently,”—he glances at dazai with a smirk—“your newest competitor for this sweetheart's attention.”

you sigh, clearly having enough of this shitty situation that feels like the setup for a sitcom episode. the ginger looks more frustrated by the minute, and the sight of him glaring daggers at the so-called companions makes you feel slightly bad for him.

“alright, chuuya,” you say, pulling him toward the cashier, ignoring the stunned look on his face. you feel suguru follow, maintaining a calming presence beside you. the cashier looks just as frazzled as chuuya, but you’re determined to end this nightmare once and for all.

“wait, what are you doing?” chuuya protests, glancing back at you with wide eyes. “you don’t have to—”

“It’s fine, really. it happens all the time,” you insist, shooting him a reassuring smile as you pull out your own card. “this is on me. plus you can pay me back in another way, though.”

dazai, overhearing this, perks up like a dog hearing a treat bag crinkle. he sidles over with that ever-present smirk on his face, leaning closer to you. “oh, you accept other ways? you naughty naughtyyy tsk!”

you roll your eyes, feeling your cheeks warm slightly, and ignore him completely. instead, you focus on the cashier, who looks thoroughly confused but also relieved to see the drama coming to a close. “just run this through, please.”

chuuya crosses his arms, clearly still disgruntled but unable to resist the tide of your determination. suguru shoots him a look that seems to say, “just go with it,” and chuuya huffs, lips pressing into a thin line.

as the cashier processes the transaction, you turn back to huuya. “it's fine, I really get it—everyone has rough days. uh how about you let me help you out a bit? i actually have a project coming up that could use two male leads.”

“it’s a vampire movie,” you explain with a grin spreading across your face as you watch chuuya’s eyes narrow in suspicion. “and honestly, you two fit the aesthetic perfectly. everyone i’ve auditioned so far has been terrible. i could really use your looks and… personalities,” you point toward the redhead and the hot black-haired man.

chuuya raises an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his features. “a vampire movie? seriously?”

“actually, I think you’d be perfect for the role. your features and that hair of yours are perfect for it.” suguro chuckles, nudging chuuya slightly.

you watch as chuuya’s expression softens, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. for the first time, he chuckles, rolling his eyes at suguro. “you wouldn’t believe it, but I’ve had to dress up like one just to save that idiot dazai’s neck.”

suguro chuckles back, shaking his head. “guess it’s time to redeem yourself.”

chuuya huffs but a small smile betrays him. “fine, i’ll consider it. but only if you promise i don’t have to wear any ridiculous costumes.”

“i can’t make any promises,” you say with a teasing grin.

suguro smiles, leaning against the counter. “i’ll accept the offer, too.”

you beam, feeling a wave of relief wash over you finally. “great! i’ll send you both the details later.”

“ugh, why is this so hard?” you can’t help but chuckle at his struggle, it’s not like you're defusing a bomb here—just rehearsing a kiss for a scene.

“chuuya, it’s just a kiss. how hard can it be?” you tease, raising an eyebrow, watching him pace back and forth through the rehearsal room like a caged tiger.

“just a kiss? have you seen your face?” he gestures wildly, and you swear you can see steam rising from his ears. “you make it look way too easy!”

you giggle glancing up as you hear a faint creak from the door only to see geto strolling in and casually leaning against the door frame. you can tell that he just got out of the shower as he holds a towel drying his luxurious black hair. you part your lips trying to take a deep breath as you see his damp hair clinging to his neck in a way that’s... well, distracting, and you're not above admitting that. but as he shakes the water from his hair, your mind drifts back—against your will, mind you—to that moment from a week ago.

technically, it was a regular day. nothing special. just you trying on a costume in one of those annoyingly small fitting rooms. and of course, it had to be the tightest, most ill-fitting costume known to mankind. the zipper might as well have been laughing at your misery as you wrestled with it, stuck halfway like it had a personal problem against you.

after what felt like an hour of struggle, you finally managed to peel the outfit off your body like some weird victory over fabric. and that’s when geto decided to make his grand entrance.

“oh, uh... wrong room,” he said and in that split second, you swore your heart had leaped out of your chest, seeing his eyes go wide, flicking down clearly taking in the delicate lace set you had on and oh, the way he stares makes your cheeks flush hotter than the sun on a july afternoon.

you are friends. just friends. well, maybe more than friends. the three of you are getting along—maybe a little too perfectly, if you are being honest. it is in the small things like how geto always have a lighter handy for you and chuuya, even though he doesn't smoke. you have no idea why, but somehow he’d always flick it open when you reach for a cigarette. that, combined with the lingering glances and casual touches that seems far too intimate to be strictly platonic, says something about where things are heading.

chuuya, on the other hand, is... well, he is oblivious. not that you mind it. he is just so focused on the roles you are rehearsing together that he hasn't picked up on the fact that you’ve been flirting with him for a while now. hell, geto had caught on, but chuuya? the poor guy needs it spelled out. you are going to have to make your moves more obvious—or, in chuuya’s case, maybe drastic.

and if you think back to certain moments—like that night when chuuya got himself absolutely plastered. that redhead brat went from zero to blackout drunk in record time, and of course, it fell on you to drag his sorry ass home. you just couldn't see him stumbling out of a bar, half-laughing, half-cursing, completely out of it and do nothing. to be fair, this all came after his impulsive bank robbery—yeah, you heard that right. a bank robbery. apparently, after the whole boutique incident, chuuya decided he was tired of being broke.

so there you were, guiding this drunken menace through the streets, and contemplating how you could spring him from the charges he was facing. he was barely coherent, mumbling something about the "best wine ever" and how the stars were "calling his name." romantic, right? wrong.

by the time you finally got him inside, chuuya, in all his sottish wisdom, decided clothes were optional. without a word—no hesitation, no second thoughts—he started stripping. pants off, dress shirt shirt flung across the room, and he was about to lose the rest when you jumped in.

“whoa, okay, let’s maybe not do that right now?” you managed to say, trying your best to avert your gaze but also wondering why the hell the universe had put you in this situation. because, let’s be honest, as much as you didn't want to stop him... you really, really should.

and you did stop him, somehow managing to wrestle him back into some kind of decency before he could make things even more harder for you. needless to say, he was so out of it, that he passed out immediately after—half clothed, thank god.

and you thank heavens that he doesn't remember a damn thing the next morning about his one-man strip show.

you blink as the sound of geto’s teasing voice yanking you from your thoughts.

“what’s going on in here? i could hear chuuya’s desperation from down the hall.”

chuuya glares at him. “shut it, geto. we’re just—”

“rehearsing a kiss,” you finish, unable to resist the urge to jump in.

“exactly,” chuuya huffs, crossing his arms defensively and pouting—god he's so adorable. “just a stupid kiss.”

geto smiles softly and steps further into the rehearsal room, “well, it can’t be that bad. show me what you’ve got.”

chuuya rolls his eyes, obviously being tested by geto’s teasing and you can see him mentally gearing up, “alright, but don’t laugh if I mess it up.”

you try to flash him an encouraging smile to ease him a little bit. “just breathe. it’s literally just a kiss.”

he nods stepping closer, you notice his cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. he gets within a breath’s distance and suddenly seems frozen, his confidence evaporating as he stumbles over his own thoughts. “uh... so...”

you can't help but chuckle softly, leaning in a little closer to coax him. “come on, chuuya. just focus on my lips. you can do this.”

geto—who had been watching from the side with a knowing smile—decided to step in. “you know, it might help to ease the tension. let me give you a few pointers.

chuuya blinked, caught off guard but quickly nodded. “yeah, sure. anything to make it look… believable.”

without uttering a response, he strides over and gently cupping your sweet pink cheeks, leaning in to press his soft lips against yours, and oh god, it’s perfect. the world fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you and the warmth of his lips. you let out a soft gasp as he slips his tongue between your puffy lips, tilting his head for better acess making your heart race as your mind wonders if you’ve just been seduced in a rehearsal. honestly you’re taken aback by how natural it feels, how perfectly his lips fit against yours.

geto loses himself completely in the kiss, his fingers brushing through your hair as if he’s trying to pull you closer, as the kiss deepens a low hum escapes his wet lips. you feel a rush of pleasure floods through your entire body, and just when you think it can’t get better, he pulls away, slightly breathless and blinking as he locks gaze with your lips for a bit before averting his gaze to chuuya.

well as for chuuya, the ginger stands there, wide-eyed, his lips slightly parted as if he hasn’t fully processed what just happened. “uh… was the tongue really necessary?” he stammers, cheeks flushed an adorable shade of crimson.

geto chuckles, brushing it off with a wave of his hand. “now you try.”

chuuya blinks again, still looking all flustered but still wants to get it right. he turns to you, hand sliding to your waist in a way that is awkward but endearing.

“fine… i got this.” his voice is hushed as his take your lower lip between his pink ones, trying to mimic what geto had done. it was just a kiss—chaste, careful, like he was still holding back. but then something clicked within you, the ginger's eyes snaps open before growling into your mouth as you slip your tongue into into his before twirling the two pink muscles together. you glide your delicate fingers through his messy strands, pulling him closer for a few seconds before he pulls back, breathing heavily.

“okay, that was… not acting right?” he says, his brows furrowing as he tries to catch his breath. “is that how it’s supposed to feel?”

geto sighs loudly, shaking his head in exasperation. “chuuya, how didn’t you notice? it’s been going on for a few months already. didn’t you realise it? because if you really want us to… you know...”

“ugh, thank you!!! finally someone who can read my hints,” you exclaim, shooting geto a grateful look.

chuuya blinks a few times, his brows knitting together as he processes what’s just been said. “wait, hold on,” he splutter, looking back and forth between you and geto. “are you both... serious?”

“god, i’m such an idiot. i thought we were just—” he pauses

“just friends?” you finish for him, giving him a playful nudge. “come on, chuuya. i thought i was dropping some pretty big hints.”

the redhead runs a hand through his messy hair, looking both at you and geto. “ so..uh..you really want us to fuck you?” he mutters, lips forming into a slow grin.. “like...both of us?”

“uh, yeah?” you say, biting your lip to suppress a smile watching chuuya and geto exchange glances more like a silent understanding seems to pass between them, and before you know it, geto strides over and lifts you off the ground effortlessly.

“wait, wait, wait!” you squeal, laughter bubbling up as you squirm in his grip. “what are you doing?”

“just a little detour to somewhere more private.” he says, glancing back at chuuya, who raises his eyebrows with a sick lustful grin plastered on his face.

“seriously, you guys, i can walk!” you protest, but the thrill of being swept off your feet makes it hard to sound convincing.

“good, ‘cause we'll make sure you won’t be walking straight for days.” chuuya says as he opens the trailer door, stepping inside with geto following suit.

the sound of a zipper being pulled down is the last thing you hear before you’re instantly pressed between the two men, their eager hands working quickly to strip you bare. the fabric falls away easily revealing more of your skin to their hungry eyes.

“damn,” chuuya breathes seeing your skin pebble once they hit the cold air. “you’re even prettier than i imagined.”

your eyes flutter shut as your head falls back on geto's shoulder and you relax for just a second before you feel chuuya's mouth encircled your nipple, his jot tongue swirling around your areola tasting your sweet skin as he groans softly against it.

“hngh—chuuya…” you whimper fingers tightening in his messy hair.

he releases your nipple with a slick pop, then brings his large palms to knead your pillowy breasts. as geto lifts you slightly, guiding your hips down to press against his hard cock. you open your eyes to glance down, breath hitching at the sight of him resting between your slick folds. you can't help but let out a soft gasp seeing how massive he is, tip coated with pre-cum and veins popping and soaked by your essence. you let out a soft moan as he peppers your neck with hot, wet kisses, goosebumps rise across the plains of your skin.

chuuya leans down easing you into geto's embrace and spreading your plushy thighs wider.

“look at her pussy—fuck s’pretty..” chuuya drawls as he spits on your swollen clit drawing lazy cut shapes on it, the warm fluid drooling between your puffy folds.

he then plunges his spit-slicked fingers past the swell of your plump lips, coaxing you to get even wetter for them as geto's large, gritty hands grip your ass, pulling you back and forth on his throbbing, leaky, fat cock.

“such a good slut, sucking my fingers so well,” your cunt clenches eagerly sucking on chuuya's long fingers, once he's truly satisfied, he pulls out of your cunt before smearing your juices all across your folds.

geto grips his cock in his palm, the leaky tip smearing your juices as he positions himself between your chubby cheeks. you never tried anal before and you never expected yourself to gasp that loud feeling the rush of spit pools against the pad of your tongue from him stretching your hole so perfectly. you cry out in surprise before chuuya swiftly plunges his tongue into your mouth swallowing your lewd noises.

“ffuck, i’ve been waiting for this, babe.” you hear geto's soft moans against the shell of your ear from behind, “... thinking of you in those lacy little things... mngh, you have no idea how many nights i couldn’t sleep, wanting to feel you... s’warm and tight around me.” he grips your juicy ass cheeks tighter, thrusting you down against him, as if he can’t wait any longer.

“ready for me doll?” chuuya breathes against your lips.

“yes ahh please chuu—mngh” you try to respond, but your words dissolve into a moan as you feel him slowly push inside your heated core. you had expected him to be gentle—just not this gentle. he languidly slides deeper and deeper, his head dropping forward to rest against your soft breasts, growling as he buries himself inside you.

you dig your nails into chuuya’s shoulders, forming delicate marks on his pale skin as you use him for leverage to push yourself back onto geto's cock. each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, making you shudder as chuuya fills you completely.

“god, you feel s’ fuckin’ good, doll,”

your moans get higher and higher mingling with their grunts and growling, chuuya finds himself thrusting faster than usual, his cock is pulsing from watching you nastily taking him and his friend's cock so perfectly.

“y-you okay doll?” chuuya breathes, his voice laced with awe as he watches your eyes roll back into your skull.

“ffuhmk—yes please more,” you cry feeling geto's pace starting to match chuuya's fast and hard ones, your body tenses up, pleasured from all angles, both with their girthy huge cocks filling you up to the brim, your vision blurs seeing through haze chuuya's eyes roll back, his fiery strands sticking to his face and neck, red hue blossoming under his skin and rapidly spreading to his chest.

“jesus f-fucking christ, you're so hot.” geto breathes against your skin tilting your head so that he can bite down your bottom lip gently before drawing circles with your tongues making the pair of you an even greater mess, both his hands reach up to cup your pillowy breasts squeezing them as they jiggle between the palm of his hands, “mmngh—sugu~ahh” the two of you moaning in unison.

before you can catch your breath, chuuya grabs your cheeks with two fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. his lips crash against yours with a bruising intensity in a sloppy kiss, forcing his tongue deep into your mouth as his fingers roughly toy with your clit, drawing sharp, almost painful pleasure from the sensitive nub. “you gonna cum for us, mngh? gonna be a good slut and cum?” he growls, cupid's bows wet from your searing kisses as his fingers cut circles into your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

the world around you blurs as you're finally pushed over the edge with the repeated brush of their cocks against your spongy spots—a blinding white light floods your vision, static crackling in your ears. chuuya watches in awe, like he's witnessing a miracle, as you cum, your body convulsing with pleasure. at the same time, geto spills inside you, his warm release filling your womb to the brim. the intensity makes you feel like you might pass out, a scream ripping from your throat as the knot in your lower belly unravels with chuuya's twitching cock inside you as he too rocks inside you multiple times riding out his sweet release with force that makes your body shake as he paints your walls with his hot shooting cum filling you up perfectly. you three reach your peak together, perfectly in sync.

the world gradually comes back into focus, as you three try to calm down from your release. geto is the first to pull out, and as he does, you feel his cum slowly drip from your body. chuuya follows, watching in awe your ruined holes leaking with their seeds as your legs tremble from the overwhelming pleasure.

chuuya chuckles breathlessly, wiping the sweat from his brow, and gently rubs a hand over your thigh. “i’ll get the bath ready for ya doll,” he murmurs, voice still rough from the intensity of his orgasm, before standing up and heading towards the bathroom.

you nod, watching his bare form head to the bathroom as geto leans in close, pressing gentle, reassuring kisses to your lips while his strong hands tenderly massage your trembling legs. “relax, baby” he whispers between kisses, his lips still deliciously sloppy, “you did so well. let me take care of you.” he strokes your skin soothingly, bringing you down from the high as you try to catch your breath.

you give geto a tired but grateful smile, your chest still heaving, “t-thank you, sugu,” you murmur softly, watching his lips curl into a satisfied grin, and he continues to massage your legs, his fingers easing away the lingering tension.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguro @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @whiteelovex @dottedhalfnotes @victoria1676 @ghostedwriting @a-trashbag @bakedpotato12 @ambervanth @sakui1 @iams0up @osamucide @lighthoonie @chuuyascumsock

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crushmeeren · 3 months ago

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࿐ part one of my kinktober series! Hoshina’s version can be found here! enjoy little bats!

࿐ master list link ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆

⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ knotting, breeding, scent kink, biting/marking, fighting as foreplay, a/b/o dynamics, praise kink, mentions of blood, mentions of reader becoming pregnant.

┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ You’ve danced around each other since you were kids. It didn’t start as something romantic, no, it only developed into something more when you turned into teenagers. Once you both reached 21, it’s no secret who you’re deliriously hoping will pin you down during your first, and only, mating run.

⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣ ⇣ ༄ ⇣ ⇣

You were six the first time you heard Katsuki. Yes heard, not met.

You vividly recall how purple and blue chalk had stained your knees. That it had dusted the fraying hem of your jean shorts like snow as you scribbled pictures as fast as your chubby hands would allow. The concrete of your driveway was filled with your imagination when their car pulled into the house across the street.

Your ears had twitched and perked up when a car door slammed shut. But it was the furious shouting and growling of a small boy that captured the entirety of your attention. An answering warning snarl radiated from the woman standing before him and that piqued your interest even further.

You took a break from, what you would call your masterpiece, and tilted your head to the side as you spotted a young blonde boy with gravity defying spiky hair, close to you in age, stomping his foot, baring tiny canines, and pointing furiously at who you assumed was his mother. After all, he did look like the miniature version of her and her face was pinched with the same anger that he displayed.

You studied them curiously as they screamed at each other when a man with the same crazy hair stepped in between them to calm the situation. You startled suddenly, chalk slipping from your fingers when your mom called your name, and causing the blonde’s scowl to turn your direction instead. Unsure of what else to do, you raised your chalk covered hand and waved tentatively, a shy smile curling your lips and showing off your own premature fangs.

His frown rooted even deeper into his expression in response. Your sharp vision had allowed you to watch as his cheeks turned pink and splotchy from the unexpected attention you gave him. You grinned a bit wider and he abruptly raised his tiny hand to flip you off before spinning and storming towards his front door. His mother had choked on her next breath and screeched “Katsuki you little shit! Don’t you have any manners?!”

His rude behavior should’ve offended you, but instead it made you laugh so hard that your little belly started to cramp and your own face burned with delight. Safe to say you were, for lack of a better word, excited to get to know the new wolf that just moved in.

When your parents introduced you later on, you became fast friends. As brash and nasty as his attitude was, you were able to see the kinder side of him on occasion. You also couldn’t deny that he was unfairly entertaining, even on his worst days.

You both shared similar interests, and he was so cool in your eyes that you were more enamored with him than the sticky mud you both used to make pies with after it rained. Not to mention he always smelled of caramel, which you loved. It reminded you of the first bite of freezing vanilla ice cream with warm caramel syrup drizzled on top.

As you got a bit older, you were allowed to start shifting together. As wolves you’d explore the dense forest behind your home every weekend when the moon was high in the sky. You’d wrestle, playfully chasing and hunting rabbits until your paws hurt. Then you’d take a dip in the chilly creek until your fur hung heavy and was soaked through to the bone. They were, without a doubt, the best moments of your young life.

Reaching your teen years, however, was….different. Your parents took great care and time to teach you about your secondary dynamic. About alphas, betas, omegas, how they all related to one another. About heats and ruts and mates. It was overwhelming at first, but it did help you make sense of the rapidly evolving feelings you were harboring for your best friend. Nevertheless, you continued to take on life side by side with Katsuki.

When you were 16, you presented as an omega. Katsuki was an alpha, and truly you couldn’t even be surprised by the news. What you weren’t expecting was just how intense your feelings got for him after that, how much more powerful and attractive his scent had turned. You were aware you were in love with him by that point, but once you both presented Katsuki wouldn’t leave your side for a single second.

And then late one night he snuck into your bedroom through the window and confessed his feelings with a bright, rare blush of embarrassment on his face and kissed you until you couldn’t breathe. You’d been together ever since. That was five years ago, give or take.

⇣ ⇣ ⇣

Mating runs are traditional for werewolves in your small home town. Once you reach 21, you’re able to participate in one to officially become part of a mated pair. It could be with someone who you’ve only just met, someone from a long term relationship, or anyone in between.

Four times a year, during a full moon, the mating run takes place. It begins in the clearing at the edge of the forest just outside your town and ends at sunrise or once you’ve been pinned down and knotted by your chosen mate. The omegas take off first, then the alphas shortly after.

The heart pumping thrill of being hunted is what pushes you at a breakneck pace now. The bite of autumn wind whips through your fur, but it’s lost to the heat of adrenaline. You dig your claws into the earth each time your paws make contact to send yourself full throttle even further into the forest. You made sure Katsuki was aware you wouldn’t let him catch you so easily.

Seeing in the dark is an advantage, allowing you to dodge trees and jump over obstacles. The muscles in your hind legs clench and propel you over a decent sized log, which inadvertently lands you in a small creek. You create a decent splash on impact and pause only for a moment to get a much needed drink when a set of thundering paws echoes in the distance.

You huff irritably. You stopped for only few seconds, how the hell has Katsuki caught up to you already? You should’ve known better than to assume you could rest at all. Once more you begin sprinting in the opposite direction of your soon to be mate.

Your pulse skyrockets and a yip of excitement escapes you before you manage to reign it in. Katsuki’s answering excited howl sends a shiver down your spine. Now, you’re able to catch stronger whiffs of singed caramel as he closes in. His scent only tinges burnt when he’s riled up.

You burst through a line of trees, skidding to a halt and kicking up dirt in a small field. You whip around to wait for him, panting harshly to catch your breath. Sure enough, within seconds, a huge sandy colored wolf explodes into the clearing, slowing to a trot and halting about 15 feet away.

Tail wagging vigorously, you press your front half to the forest floor, snarling playfully and snapping your jaws in invitation. You’re ready to fight. Katsuki huffs in a way that mimics amused laughter and answers you with a deep rumble of his own, mirroring your position. You pretend you’re about pounce, but fake him out by twisting and taking off like a shot.

You only cover a pathetic few feet of ground when a bag of bricks hits your side, tackling you into the dirt with no mercy. The air’s knocked from your lungs when you land, and the two of you begin to roll as you try to end up on top. Katsuki snaps his teeth too close to your ear for comfort and you sneak your hind paws underneath to kick violently at his belly.

The push knocks his balance off center and you take advantage of the slight window to slip out from underneath him. Standing, you shake out your fur but then razor blade teeth close on your back leg and yank until you fall to the floor. A startled yelp rings free and you twist to the best of your ability to try and rip a chunk out of Katsuki’s fluffy ear.

Katsuki’s chest rumbles teasingly, dodging your retaliation, and spicy warm caramel floods your nose. Your furious growling tapers off into a whine the more the air fills with his scent. You tug your leg petulantly, but a warning snarl from Katsuki has you sinking into the forest floor in defeat.

Katsuki yips happily and releases you, allowing you to roll over and show him your belly as a sign that he’s caught you and of your trust in him. The ash blonde wolf shifts to hover over you and bends to gently to place his jaws around your throat, applying just enough pressure to spike your heart rate.

With practiced ease and only a minimal amount of pain, you shift until your fur is replaced by bare skin, damp grass tickling your back. Katsuki releases his hold and stares down at you, ruby eyes shining. Your lips curve into a smile and you reach up to pet the soft fur on his head and nose. Your mate licks your hand once, causing you to laugh, before joining you seconds later.

He rests his hands by your head instead of paws and straddles your naked waist. His cock is already partially filled out and resting on your stomach when he smirks down at you, an air of infuriating arrogance surrounding him.

“Thought you were gonna make it difficult for me to catch you,” he teases with a husky tone, leaning down to mouth at the scent gland under your jaw. “You taste so fuckin’ good baby, I’m gonna to eat you alive.”

The noise Katsuki makes stands at the edge of a whine when he drags his tongue over your pulse point, dick twitching with interest. You moan softly, fingers threading through thick golden hair, and you bend your neck to expose even more skin to him.

“Yeah,” you breathe, pride welling up in your chest as your eyes flutter shut. “I knew you’d catch me Katsuki. You’re the strongest alpha after all, and you’re mine.”

Katsuki’s chest vibrates with approval, nipping harshly and sucking a mark into the hollow of your throat. It aches dully and you squeeze your thighs together, a feverish heat starting to consume you wholly.

“Such a pretty girl, sweet fuckin’ omega, all for me yeah?”

“Forever Katsuki,” you confirm. “I’m your omega, your mate until we die. So claim me the way we both want, please.” You tug desperately at his hair until his mouth is a hair’s width away from yours, gaze half lidded and starving.

It takes absolutely nothing else to bring the two of you into a sloppy, heated kiss. Your pussy clenches when one of his hands sneaks down to grab a handful of your tit, squeezing and pinching your nipple.

Your lips part and Katsuki eagerly pushes his warm tongue into your mouth. The rhythmic, slick glide has your lower half weeping for his attention. A molten type of heat burns low in your gut and your inner thighs have gone slippery as your mate works you up to an unbearable degree.

You suck on Katsuki’s tongue and his breath hitches before he releases it as a breathy moan, cock fully swollen and throbbing repeatedly. You squirm under him impatiently, noticing the precum gathering near your bellybutton. You trap the tip of his tongue between your teeth and bite mischievously.

He pulls back to glare halfheartedly at you, and the look on his face is blazing, pupils wildly dilated and cheeks flushed beyond compare. You can tell he wants to devour you and you need it just as badly. He chews his bottom lip, gaze trailing over your tits and flickering back to your face as your own cheeks burst into flames. Your blush is so violent it burns your eyes.

Katsuki starts shifting backwards until he can get between your thighs, brushing his lips down your sternum and sucking briefly on your nipple.

“I’m gonna eat this fuckin’ pussy, okay sweetheart?” He noses at your hip bone, stopping to inhale deeply at the crease of your thigh, groaning as his eyes shut. “Then I’m gonna knot you and you’re not fuckin’ leavin’ until you’re full with my pups, you hear me?” He asks hotly.

Your head tilts to the sky with a whine, something like electricity running through your blood. You fist his hair and pull restlessly. “Jesus Katsuki, stop fucking talking and do it.”

Katsuki laughs, voice full of amusement. “You’re lucky I like when you’re bitchy.”

He doesn’t waste another moment, parting the soft lips of your pussy by dragging his tongue upwards until he can circle your clit a few times. The next lick has you fighting for air, muscles jumping as your skull digs into the surface below. He repeats the action multiple times and then places the flat of his tongue on your swollen clit, shifting his head side to side.

The cry of his name gets stuck in your chest when sucks on your clit for the first time, the rolling wave of pleasure branching from your pelvis outwards. You can’t take much more, the animalistic instinct in the back of your mind making it seem as if you’ll die if you don’t take his knot soon.

You push at his forehead, asking for his attention. “Katsuki, c’mon, knot me already,” you plead to no avail. He pulls away by an inch and grins coyly at you.

“Nah, you’re cummin’ like this because I’m telling you to. Then I’ll knot ya, ya spoiled little princess.”

“At least use your fingers then!”

“Hell no! You’re not cummin’ with anything inside you unless it’s my cock.”

Releasing his hair, you push up to your elbows and pout to help persuade your case, but he doesn’t pay you any mind. Katsuki sinks his nails into your inner thighs and your brain fills with cotton when his tongue returns to play with your clit. His heavy lidded stare makes you shiver and the way he eats you out is so obscene you can’t help but squeeze your eyes shut when you cum.

Katsuki lets his tongue spread you open and lazily gather every drop of your orgasm until his spit is all that remains. He raises up to sit on his heels, and the moonlight highlights the way his chin shines because of you. An intense pulse of affection accompanies the thought of how breathtaking your mate really is.

Katsuki smoothes his palms up your thighs, over your belly and trails them up your rib cage before coming back down to squeeze your hips. You shift to sit up and lean in to brush your lips gingerly with his and then Katsuki presses back into it even harder. Demanding fingers grip your jaw and break your kiss. Katsuki peers at you, smirking and rubbing a thumb over your jawline.

“Turn over,” he murmurs, tone smooth like whiskey. A thrill races through you at the command and in the blink of an eye your cheek is squished into the grass, elbows resting by your head, and your ass is high in the air, presenting for him like you’ve wanted to all. damn. night.

The thick, blunt tip of Katsuki’s cock nudges against you, but he doesn’t allow it to catch. You jolt in surprise when he slides over your the rim of your ass instead, toes curling with anticipation.

You whine loudly in protest and Katsuki croons softly to you, relaxing some of your tense muscles. He lets out a deep rumble of approval and places a hand on your tailbone to guide your hips backwards. You’re panting when he finally slides halfway in, moaning in relief from the stretch.

“Katsuki.”

He hums distractedly, holding tight to your hips and rocking his hips shallowly until his cocks fit snug inside, balls pressed against you.

“I love you,” you manage to say, breath catching in your throat when he pulls his hips back and then thrusts back in fluidly.

“I love you, more than anything,” Katsuki promises, tone so sincere you have to shut your eyes in the face of it. He knocks your knees further apart, curling over your back and searches for your hands. His long fingers lace through yours and your spine curves even deeper as he pins you in place.

There’s not much talking after that. You’re too focused on the delicious drag of his cock in and out of your pussy, carving out a space made just for him. He fits inside you perfectly and goosebumps litter your skin each time he makes you remember. Sweat beads swiftly in the valley of your breasts and dirt paints your cheek as you rock with each of Katsuki’s deliberate thrusts.

You scent must be suffocating him because he’s sniffing the back of your neck and whining every other breath. It’s all the same to you because you’re drowning in caramel and the sound of your mate’s hips bouncing frantically off your ass is quite literally the loudest noise surrounding you.

Your gut clenches tight, tight, tight and you’re so close you can’t fucking stand it.

“You’re gonna make me cum! Knot me Katsuki, please!” You manage to untangle one of your hands and reach backwards to push at his stomach, the muscles straining and rolling under your touch.

He moves with you easily and snickers in your ear. Warm breath tickles your nape and your gums start to ache, the omegan urge to tear into his neck and claim him mercilessly grows stronger by the second.

“Yeah? Think your pretty little pussy is ready for my knot sweetheart?” Katsuki huffs between words and then out of nowhere he’s unsticking himself from your back and settling on his calves, cocking slipping free. You’re furious, glaring at him over your shoulder and curling your lip into a snarl.

“What the hell Katsuki!” You whip around to face him fully and shove at his chest. Katsuki rolls his eyes and snags your wrist, yanking you forward so you have to catch yourself on his shoulders. He grabs your waist and forces you to walk on your knees until you’re hovering over his lap.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this fuckin’ moment my entire life. There’s no way in hell I’m knottin’ you without being able to see the sweet expressions you’re gonna make.”

Your eyes widen and your lips part slightly, but before you can answer he’s applying pressure to your hips and helping you sink back down onto his still stiff dick. You moan his name, pressing your sweaty forehead to his and huffing hotly against his mouth.

True to his words, his knot’s begun to swell. It presses against your pussy, begging to pop inside each time you sit down. You ride him roughly, nails sharpening into claws without your permission and breaking the skin on your mates shoulders. Katsuki inhales sharply and howls briefly in excitement.

His canines start to stretch even longer and, with a burst of caramel scent so thick you can taste it, he bullies you down onto his knot. It burns, but the coil that’s been building steadily in your gut breaks then, flooding your limbs with heat.

You all but sob as you cum, claws carving into the base of his skull as he surges forward and sinks his teeth into the mating gland at the junction of your neck and shoulder. Your wail is earsplitting when Katsuki digs those razor like teeth in even harder. His cock throbs, filling you with hot, sticky cum. It rips another orgasm out of you, pussy absolutely choking his knot.

“Katsuki let go!” You’re thrashing, speaking through gritted teeth. “I need to bite you, please!” Your voice is hoarse and wrecked, rising anxiously as you struggle to get free. His scent is so potent it’s making you dizzy.

Your mate groans lowly, finally unhinging his jaw with a heavy purr rattling throughout his chest and tightly grips the base of your neck. Blood trickles down his chin and he shoves your face into his throat, unable to give a single fuck about anything else but being claimed by you.

“Bite me, omega. Make me your mate.”

You moan deliriously, eyes stinging with relief as your teeth cut through his skin like butter and pierce his mating glad, a metallic and overwhelmingly caramel taste floods your mouth.

Katsuki’s cock kicks yet again and he growls hotly, locking his arms around your waist to still your squirming. The muscle in your jaw flexes, allowing your teeth to sink in deeper and his growl abruptly cuts off into a high pitched whimper.

Your mate’s chest heaves from the toll your bite is taking, and you release your jaw unhurriedly to draw it out for as long as he’ll allow. You lick over the wound a few times to help cease the blood flow and Katsuki shivers. Gingerly he shifts your arms up to wrap around his neck and he instructs you to hang on.

He delicately lowers the two of you to the ground, resting on his back so his chest becomes a cushion for your exhausted body while you wait for his knot to go down.

“That’s right, such a good girl. You take my knot so fuckin’ well, you’re incredible. You look stunning with my bite,” Katsuki praises, chest rumbling gently. The soothing sensation of it starts to make you drowsy. He rubs your back lazily as he speaks and you both start to come down from the high.

You purr delightedly, unable to resist teasing him even as your eyes get droopy. Your heart’s complete now. “You look even more gorgeous with my bite, Katsuki.”

He scoffs, pinching your hip playfully, and you purposefully clench around his knot in response. It rips a startled gasp from him and you giggle.

“I have a fuckin’ tease for a mate,” he sulks, letting his head thump onto the dirt floor below. You sound unbearably smug when you reply.

“Yeah well, you better get used to it baby. You’re stuck with me forever now, whether you want to or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I wouldn’t want any other omega in the fuckin’ world anyways, idiot.”

About a month later, when you tell Katsuki you’re pregnant, the corners of his eyes crinkle as he grins proudly, saying “told ya you weren’t leaving that clearing until you were knocked up with my pups.”

#bakugou x reader #bakugou smut #bakugou katsuki smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #werewolf x reader #bakugou katsuki #mha x reader #mha kinktober #mha smut #bakugou headcanons

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mtsyik · 15 days ago

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Masterlist

The first time shoto Todoroki sees you, you are a shy six year old girl. Trailing after your mother with every step she takes, clinging unto her long skirt to feel secure in the presence of the number two and his youngest son.

Shoto takes his time looking at you, how you seemed so much more frail and fragile than him. It was the first time he felt bigger than someone else, it was also the first time he was sure he could protect someone.

So with trembling hands, he lets go of his mother's hand and gestures at you to do the same. He tries to be sneaky so as not to alert his elders, but he doesn't miss his mothers smile as he takes your hand in his.

The second time Shoto Todoroki sees you, you are quite grown. Now nearing the age of ten, his mother's calming presence is nowhere around. He sulks next to his father as he sits on the fancy couch in the middle of your living room. He ignores the conversation that is happening about his future quirk marriage with you and rather focuses on the pattern of the fancy carpet that is laid on the floor. From the corner of his eye, he catches a figure peaking from behind the bookshelf on his far right. Then, he sees a small hand gesturing for him to come near. His heart decides before his mind gets a say, and with careful footsteps comes near you. You grab your hand in his and usher him to hide away from your parents' gaze. Shoto blushes madly when you carefully remove his eyebandage to apply some nurturing cream on his burn, with you shyly mumbling that you had been searching for it all morning. Huh. Maybe ending up with you wasn't so bad after all.

The third time Shoto Todoroki sees you, he is certain it is the last. At the prime age of fifteen, he is now more rebellious than ever. Finally sick of his father's antics to try and persuade him into following his footsteps. So with a heavy heart, and an even heavier tone, he is forced to look at you dead in the eye and proclaim that he would rather die than marry you.

He watches as you blink, clearly taken aback. The grip you had on the basket with baked goods (courtesy of your maid to offer to the Todoroki household) loosening. Your eyes glisten with tears that are threading to spill any second now. Shoto's face is as cold as his heart now as he decides to look away. He turns on his heel and walks away from you, satisfied that he hurt his father and his relationship with your family by refusing your hand in marriage. He tries to ignore the faint voice in his head that is telling him that he hurt you in the process as well.

But he figures that you would be better off without him as well, and hopes you end up marrying someone you are truly in love with.

It comes as a surprise to him that he sees you a fourth time as well. Now, being twenty-three years old, adult Shoto Todoroki is quickly rising in the hero ranks. He is surrounded by people he loves, both friends and family. His relationship with his father is strained, but the effort is there. His life since the beginning of UA has turned around for the better.

Still, poor Shoto can't help but think about you. Your older sister had kept in touch with Fyumi, and from what he is hearing, you have also been bettering your life. Not only did you defy your parents and end up living with your sister from the moment you turned eighteen, you managed to get into one of the top colleges in Japan, studying what you love. You are officially the first woman in your family with a higher education, and your parents hate that. Shoto admires it, though. He always knew you would end up doing great things indeed.

His thoughts had been racing, memories of you engulfing his mind, making it too hard for him to think. He wonders what would have happened if the two of you had met in different circumstances. Like bumping into each other at a convenience store.

He sighs as he walks into the local store his neighborhood offers him and greets the nice old lady (that almost passes out every time Shoto makes an appearance). The shop is not too big but not too small either; he smiles at the people that recognize him and waves at the kids that stare in awe at their favorite hero that is in their local convenience store.He makes a bee-line for the candy aisle, having memorized the shop by now, and crouches to get a candy bar from the bottom shelf. He is taken aback when a shopping cart bumps into him, and he turns his head to look at the person responsible.

"O-oh! Gosh, I am sorry. I-i didn't see you.."

Well, being on your phone while you're shopping certainly distracted you. Not only did you miss your favorite candy bar by being too slow, but you also happened to bump into your ex fiance with your shopping cart.

It is almost funny the way Shoto instantly rises and straightens his back, his tall build towering over you as you blink back your surprise. Gosh, he was even more handsome than when you remember him.

"I-im sorry." Hoping he hadn't recognized you, you bow (and keep your head down) as you attempt to flee from whatever k-drama this scene emerged from. Shoto grabs your shopping cart to stop you.

"I have been thinking about you"

My GOD, if Bakugou were here, he would burst out laughing by this God awful confession. But Todoroki is awkward, and he tries to ease some of the tension in your shoulders. Your eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

"You- what?"

"I'm- I'm sorry. I simply meant- how are you?"

Your grip on the cart relaxes a little bit. You raise your head to look him in the eye. A small sigh escapes your lips. It has been a long time since Shoto Todoroki managed to break your heart, and you swear you were over him by now. But his eyes brighten upon seeing you, and his cheeks have an innocent pink hue in them. It makes you giggle how, after all this time, he is still clueless about conversations.

"I'm good. How are you?"

"Good. I'm really good. By, many aspects "

Okay, mister millionaire at the ripe age of 20. You don't need to rub it in our faces. Defining your family had its perks, of course, but money definitely wasn't one of them (you assume that you've made that perfectly clear to Shoto, who is eyeing your off brand dish soap and fabric softener).

You smack your lips. You think this is awkward. Shoto thinks his heart might beat out of his chest by how pretty you are. Your features are now grown, your hair is longer, and you seem, relaxed. For the first time in a long time you truly are happy.

"Well, this has been -"

"Would you like to go on a date with me?"

Your shoulder abruptly slips from the aisle that you were leaning on. You smack your elbow on the shelf bellow and curse. You realize that Shoto pushed your shopping cart out of the way once you feel his warm hands on you. He is touching you with care; and just when you were sure that you had gotten over him, your heart melts at his thoughtfulness.

"You can say no if you don't want."

His tone is so genuine that it crushes you. If you were to look around, you would see the three older ladies gawking at the sight of Shoto holding you close, and you being putty in his hands.

"Wouldn't you rather like - die?"

"Oh." Your stomach is filled with butterflies at the frown on Shoto's face. He seems so utterly sad that you remember his last words to you; regret evident on his tone as he speaks.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I hope you can forgive me for my actions."

You sigh. Maybe it's the look he is giving you, maybe it's the months you haven't gotten laid, maybe it's the reminder of your shitty ex boyfriends on your mind, or maybe it's the fact that no matter how you put it, Shoto Todoroki was your first love.

So, with a purse of your lips and a small giggle at how easily persuaded you are, you smile.

"I would love to go on a date with you."

Shoto thinks he might explode at your laughter. He straightens up and clears his throat, his cheeks and ears a painfully obvious shade of red as he lets go of you.

"Great. I'll uh- I'll call you."

"Don't you need my number for that?"

"Well, it's on the information list of your citizenship."

"... you looked me up?!"

Shoto grabs your cart and starts pushing in towards the cashier while you're shrieking from laughter at his confession. He laughs too when you open up your phone to pay, and an image of him pops up from Google. Your laughter is cut short when you're trying to explain that it was for research purposes. Your cheeks are red, and your eyes are wide from embarrassment. Shoto thinks he could just eat you up.

-------

a/n: trying something new!! This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, and I decided to finally upload it!! Hope it's an enjoyable read!!

#shoto todoroki #shouto x reader #shoto torodoki #mha todoroki #todoroki x reader #mha shoto #shoto x reader #mha x reader #mha fanart #oneshot

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mpregtales · 3 days ago

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Wade

9 months pregnant, 18 years old, from Birmingham, Alabama, expecting his first children, twin boys

Wade has always been a bit of a mystery to those around him—charismatic, unapologetically confident, and possessing a natural charm that draws people in. Growing up in the South, he quickly learned that his good looks and athletic build set him apart. But it wasn’t just his muscles or his sharp features that caught people’s attention. Wade’s plump, round glutes were a showstopper. Even as a teen, he couldn’t go anywhere without someone commenting on how "blessed" he was in that department.

Now, at just 18 years old, Wade finds himself in a situation that’s both surprising and oddly satisfying. Nine months ago, a series of steamy nights with different partners, who had used his ripe and fertile bubble butt to their heart's desire, left him unsure who the father of his babies is. But truth be told, Wade doesn’t care. For him, the thrill of those nights—being desired, being bred, and giving in to his deepest instincts—was worth it. The result? Two big, healthy boys growing inside him, and a body that has blossomed to accommodate them.

Wade’s pregnancy has been nothing short of remarkable. His belly, round and enormous, stretches out in front of him like a proud testament to the life he’s creating. But it’s his glutes that have truly transformed. Once big, they’ve now grown into massive, pregnancy-thickened mounds that bounce and jiggle with every step. His bubble butt has become legendary in his small town, with people sneaking glances and whispering about how his body seems to defy the laws of nature. Wade loves the attention—whether it’s from men who can’t take their eyes off him or from older women offering unsolicited advice about child-bearing.

Despite his young age, Wade has fully embraced his pregnancy. Feeling his boys kick and roll inside him fills him with pride and a sense of purpose he never expected. The physical sensations are intense—his belly feels heavy, his pelvis is under constant pressure, and his cheeks have developed a tingling sensation as they prepare for the birth. He rubs his belly absentmindedly throughout the day, marveling at how big his body has grown.

Wade’s hormones have also been running wild. His libido is through the roof, and the men in his life have been more than happy to satisfy his cravings. Whether it’s rubbing cream on his stretch marks or spending intimate nights together, Wade has no shortage of admirers willing to help him through this journey. Secretly, some of them hope to be the next to impregnate him once he’s delivered. Wade knows it, and part of him loves the idea.

As his due date approaches, Wade is preparing for the moment he’ll bring his boys into the world. He’s been told that his delivery will be intense, given his size and the fact that he’s carrying twins. But Wade is ready. He can already imagine himself in the birthing position, his massive cheeks spread as he pushes his sons into the world. For Wade, pregnancy has been a revelation. He’s already thinking about doing it again—sooner rather than later. After all, he’s got the body for it, and there’s no shortage of men eager to see him grow even bigger.

From the Paternity Studios Collection

#mpreg #male pregnancy #mpreg belly #pregnantbelly #pregnant man #belly #pregnant #mpregbelly #mpregstory #mpreg birth

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atlasdoe · 3 months ago

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THE HOGWARTS CLASS OF 1978 - pt 20

JAMES POTTER

Name - James Potter

Blood status - Purebloood

Date of birth - 27th March 1960

House - Gryffindor

Academic achievements - Chaser for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Quidditch captain, Headboy

He was killed by Voldemort trying to protect his wife and son after they were betrayed by their secret keeper

Cannon

Both of his parents were elderly even by wizarding standards

Having been conceived so late in his parents lives, he was raised in a doting household with little material limits and pampered a great deal. Hence, it was no surprise that he's grew to be proud. arrogant and boastful but deep down still a good person

At some point during his school years, James took a photo of Hogwarts Castle at sunset and gave it to Remus

At the age of sixteen James' parents allowed Sirius to move in with them so he could escape his family

Both of James' parents attended his and Lilys wedding

In around 1977 he and Sirius were involved in a motorbike chase with two Muggle policemen. Although the chase started off as a bit of fun, it turned more serious when the pair were attacked by three men on broomsticks

He and Lily defied Voldemort three time

At some point between 1979 and 1980 James' parents died of Dragon Pox and he inherited the cast Potter family fortune from them which enabled him to comfortably support his family without the need for a paying job

James also used his wealth to support a Remus who was en employed due to his status as a werewolf

Headcanons

Pansexual

Growing up, whenever his parents had to go to work or out with their friends they would drop them off at the ice cream shop where Florean Fortescue would watch him for the day as he also took care of Alice. Barty Crouch Jrs parents also did the same

Usually, when they were really young theyd only just sit in a booth together and colour and play hide and seek in the shop (which theyd always get in trouble for) and as they got older theyd be allowed to go around Diagon Alley but only if they stuck together and would stick to the village only. (And theyd have like everyone there keeping an eye on them because Alices father is well known and liked so nobody would let anything bad happen to them anyways.)

* Alice goes to Hogwarts first and when she comes back she is telling stories upon stories about school to the point where James and Barty would tease her about always talking about Hogwarts and nothing else.

* James goes next and gets sorted into Gryffindor along with Alice. While at Hogwarts Alice watched James like a hawk for his first few weeks, she really was the older sister he never had and she was so excited to share Hogwarts with him. She gave him a tour and told him everything about everyone and wanted to know all of his thoughts

* When Barty joined he was sorted into Slytherin and made it his mission to get James and Alice to leave him alone. He wanted to fit in and he had no trouble in doing so. He made sure that he acted his worse around James and Alice and no matter how hard they tried they weren't getting him to change

* Alice gave up on Barty before James did

* James became friends with Dorcas Meadows when they were in their fourth year during a game of seven minuets in heaven

* James had wanted to befriend Dorcas for a while, mostly because she was Remusâ€™ step sister and James thought they would get on most

* Dorcas was hesitant to be his friend at first because of not only the history and common knowledge f James hating all Slytherins but just because she didnt think they would be good friends, but she did accepted his hand of friendship

* That night they came up with three ruled for their friendship also 1) No house slander off of the Quidditch pitch 2) No telling on each other to Remus and 3) Only say "I love you" if its for a dramatic goodbye

* Since that day James and Dorcas began to build a bond. One that went further than house colours and rivalry. From the friendly nods that they gave each other in the corridor to the countless times that Slughorn now had to call them out for talking too much. Something had sparked between the two that only grew into a friendship that neither of them could ever deny

While Lily and James were in hiding James got a letter from Dorcas which she sighed off with "I love you" James knew what it meant but couldn't do anything since he was in hiding

He was a little bit pissed off that he didn't make Prefect in his year since he thought he had it in the bag. He started working more in his academics after that and improved so much that he became Head Boy

While Quidditch captain he chose who was on the team based on his friends. He told everyone that every position was up for grabs but there was no universe where he wasn't having Sirius, Alice, Frank and Mary on the team

Everyone was his friend but he was not everyone's friend. There was only a few people who James truly cared about

Those people were Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, Lily Evans, Mary MacDonald, Alice Fortescue, and Frank Longbottom

His first crush was Patricia Rakepick who was in her fifth year when his was in his first

He secretly dated Regulus Black during his fifth year and Regulus' fourth. The only people who knew was Sirius, Alice and Pandora Ollivander. James and Regulus had an agreement that James could tell Sirius if Regulus could tell Pandora. Alice found out about them after walking in on them kissing

Regulus started ignoring James after Sirius ran away because he was mad at James for letting Sirius stay with him. James attempted to get Regulus to talk to him but gave up completely when rumors that Regulus had joined the Death Eaters started going around the school

He and Lily got together during the summer before their seventh year

When James and Lily got married they went all out. They had a wedding weekend in the country side and has a massive reception that everyone they knew was invited to

#aces class of 1978 #the marauders #harry potter #the marauders era #marauders #james potter #jily #jegulus #alice fortescue #barty crouch jr #dorcas meadowes

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skst8497 · 6 months ago

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laspocelliere · 4 months ago

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Day One: Steer

“A moment, Lord Commander.”

The Archbishop sat in his imposing seat, features cut sharp in unflinching light. His hands were gnarled where they gripped his staff, and his back was gracelessly curled forwards and away from the rigid straight back of his intricately carved chair. Still, his eyes were bright, and alive, and studying the young knight in front of him with a sharpness that defied his age and spoke only to his experience. His time as Archbishop, a knight; all that came before, and all that would come after.

Before him, Aymeric stood straight shouldered and wary. It was a familiar stance to him, one that never failed to make him feel small and insignificant, regardless of what accomplishments he could now put to his name. In an instant, standing alone before the holy seat of the Archbishop, he was a schoolboy again, ready for his reprimand after stealing strawberries and cream from the summer kitchens.

Summer was a distant memory. Guilt, meanwhile, lingered.

“I want to speak to you,” the Archbishop continued, his worn hands tightening thoughtfully on the decorative staff he held. “Alone.”

Behind where Aymeric stood, the Heavens’ Ward had already left the cavernous room, shoulders and faces set hard with the heavy mantles bestowed upon them by their Archbishop. They had gleamed, bright and clean in the shining winter light, assembled around the table with strong, well-worn purpose. It took a not insignificant amount of Aymeric’s resolve to hold onto that same feeling, to remind himself that he had every right to be there that they did. Remembering, like a mantra, the blood and toil it had taken to claw his way into his current position, regardless of his birth, or the rumours there within. He had never been able to stand together with his fellow knights – not really – and so he stopped trying. He stood apart, untouchable and climbing, setting himself intentionally separate so that no one could again claim that he didn’t fit. Pulling the title of Lord Commander around him like a mantle, his solitude was intentional, and purposeful.

Yet under the Archbishop’s ice blue eyes, a needling discomfort worried somewhere behind his ribs, insistent and sharp for its unfamiliar newness.

How quickly would you find me wanting, if you knew how small I become in his gaze?

Would it change anything?

Will it change everything?

Her eyes – sharp, and calculating, and endless, and sad, and beautiful, beautiful, beautiful – haunted him, even as he stood still and silent, hand on his blade, waiting for instruction.

The Archbishop waited, examining him in silence before letting out a long, heavy sigh.

Below, Aymeric’s spine snapped that much more into place, every vertebrae aching under the weight. Found wanting once more.

“You hold a unique position within Ishgard’s walls, my son,” the elderly patriarch began, his expression unreadable in its calm conviction. “As Lord Commander, you are tasked with steering her people and her military might forwards towards victory and prosperity. The Dravarian conflict grows bloodier by the day, and you have been elevated to your place in order to protect the peace and continued future of our holy order, and our gods-ordained purpose.”

With one hand, the Archbishop tilted his heavy staff lightly in Aymeric’s direction. “That ring you wear is not a mere ceremony, nor symbol. It is a reminder of your duty to your people, and your country.”

When Aymeric looked up, the Archbishop’s mouth was pressed into a firm, knowing line. “Do not,” the elderly leader said, his voice low and final in the echoing chamber, “let your head be turned away from that duty. Regardless of the form that distraction may take.”

Out in the snow-swept city, streets and spires away, the Warrior of Light turned to look towards the looming cathedral of the Pillars above, as though her name had been whispered in the wind.

#ffxivwrite2024 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #ffxiv fic #aymeric #aymeric de borel #ff14 ffxiv #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #heavensward #thordan #ffxiv aymeric #sword and shield #if you squint

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trulybetty · 13 days ago

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new years eve

pairing: dieter bravo x bryony morgan (ofc) word count: 4,565 warnings: nothing major, some angst, smoking & alcohol mentions summary: five new years firsts for Dieter & Bryony and one last New Year's ao3: linked

x. chiffon masterlist

The First New Year's Eve.

Bryony hadn't planned much for New Year's Eve. It was all very much Bridget Jones—sat wallowing under a blanket, a tub of ice cream and the threat of belting out 'All By Myself'. Even the weather outside seemed to mirror her mood. London was cold, damp, and certainly uninviting. She’d already scrolled through Instagram as friends and work colleagues posted pictures of glamorous parties and cozy family affairs.

She nursed her glass of wine as she stared out the window at the Thames, watching the city gather to prepare for the midnight fireworks. Bryony poked at the melting remains of her ice cream; she'd lost her appetite for it ages ago. She had in fact been invited to several parties, but with the way work had been amping up, and more talks of work out in LA, she was too tired to entertain anything. Plus, with Gina in New York now, her brother Rhys up north and her parents choosing to do a tropical New Year's that year—it was just her.

She hadn't heard from Dieter all day. Their relationship—or whatever this thing was between them—had been defined by late-night calls and text messages all the while balancing time zones and erratic schedules. She knew he was in New York, likely at some swanky do thrown by the theatre crowd, the kind she always teased him about. She'd told herself repeatedly it didn't matter if he called or not, but the hollow ache in her chest was very much disagreeing with her.

While pouring herself another glass of white wine and debating on pulling out the bag of prawn cocktail crisps at the back of her kitchen cupboard, there was a knock on her door. No one ever dropped by unannounced, she took a gulp of her wine—especially not on New Year's Eve.

Shuffling to the door in her slippers, she opened it, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Dieter?"

He stood there, his cheeks flushed from the cold, his hair as always messy, and his leather jacket unzipped over a wrinkled sweater. A duffel bag was slung over his shoulder, and in his hand, he clutched a bottle of cheap champagne.

"I got lost on the Underground," he confessed, as if he were apologizing for being late on an expected invitation. "It's a fucking maze down there."

Bryony stared at him wide-eyed, "What… what are you doing here?"

"I couldn't let another year start without kissing you," he admitted, his grin sheepish as his eyes sparkled with an energy that defied the tiredness that surrounded them, "and before you yell at me for being ridiculous," he pointed a finger at her, her mouth open on the cusp of a question, "yes, it was a spur-of-the-moment decision, and yes the flight was stupidly expensive, but I'm here."

She laughed, tears prickling her eyes, "You're insane, you know that right?"

"I know," he dropped his bag and the champagne, stepping closer to her, "but I really, wanted to do this."

Bryony's heart stuttered as Dieter took her face in his hands, his thumb grazing her lip. The countdown began on the TV behind her: Ten, nine, eight…

His lips hovered above hers, Bryony up on her tiptoes, she could feel his breath mingle with hers and she wanted to devour him there and then, but the moment called for savouring. Bryony felt like she was on the precipice of something special, something exciting and something bigger than the two of them.

"Love you, Daff," he whispered, just before their lips met, her arms tangling around his neck as the world outside erupted in cheers and fireworks.

The First New Year's Eve in LA.

The Hollywood Hills were a sight to behold on their own. The glittering city stretched out below as far as Bryony could see. The party, hosted by some rising Hollywood director Dieter had recently befriended, was the definition of excess. It was their first New Year's together in Los Angeles, their first since they had taken a leap on taking chances on their careers in Hollywood, and one another, officially moving in together over the summer.

The sprawling mansion was packed to the brim with celebrities, hangers-on, and the kind of people who hovered in that liminal space between fame and infamy. Bryony had spent most of the night nursing a flute of champagne, trying to take it all in. London, she had thought, had its own kind of excess, but this, this was something else altogether. And Dieter? Dieter on the other hand was in his element, floating effortlessly between groups, charming the room in a way that only Dieter could.

"You look bored, Daff," he murmured, leaning down so only she could hear him.

She raised an eyebrow, "I've lost count of how many pitches I've heard tonight," she took a sip of her drink, "Does anyone around here actually know how to have a conversation?"

Dieter smirked, his fingers brushing her bare arm before he plucked her drink from her hand and drained it completely, "I've got an idea. Follow me."

Before she could protest, he’d grabbed her hand, leading her through the crowd with the kind of casual confidence only Dieter Bravo could pull off. They weaved past a lavishly decorated living room, down a back staircase, and through a heavy wood door that opened up to an expansive wine cellar.

The space was dimly lit, with rows upon rows of bottles stretching along the walls. The air was cool and the scent of oak and earth lingered. Bryony gave Dieter an amused look as he shut the door behind them.

“Dieter,” she said, her fingers running the bottles in front of her, “if you brought me down here to show some vintage plonk, I have to say, I’m impressed with your dedication to seduction,” she teased.

He grinned, stepping closer until there was barely an inch of space between them, “I could tell you all about the wine Daff, but I think we both know that’s not why I brought you down here.”

Bryony tilted her head, the New Year’s tiara she wore twinkling under the subdued lighting, as she pretended to study the bottles and their labels, “Oh? I don’t know. That 2016 Chablis looks pretty tempting.”

Dieter’s hand skimmed her waist, she was wearing the little black dress she saved for special occasions, the one she’d been wearing the first night they’d met and still managed to make him lustful.

“You know what’s more tempting?” he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear, relishing the hitch of her breath.

She turned to face him fully, her hands pressing against his chest, a challenging glint in her eye, “What’s that, Mr. Bravo?”

“You,” he said simply, the single syllable hanging in the air, his voice low and rough, “Always you.”

Bryony felt her pulse quicken as she looked up at him, her fingers curling into the silk of his shirt. For all his bravado and charm, there was an honesty in his words that had a way of undoing her completely. He dipped his head lower, his nose brushing against hers as he pulled her closer. She could smell the faint trace of his cologne and a hint of the champagne on his tongue.

The faint hum of the party upstairs suddenly shifted into a crescendo as the countdown began.

“Ten…nine…”

Dieter’s hand slid up Bryony’s thigh, lifting the hem of her dress with it.

“Eight…seven…”

Bryony’s heart began to race as his fingers skimmed the top of her hip.

“Six…five…”

Dieter cocked his head to the side giving Bryony an amused look at finding bare skin.

“Better make it good Bravo,” she murmured, her voice barely audible above the growing cheers from above.

“Four…three…”

“I always do, Morgan.”

“Two…one…”

His lips crashed into hers as the room above erupted into cheers, clinking glasses and the muffled notes of “Auld Lang Syne” from the keys of the grand piano upstairs played faintly through the floorboards. Bryony clung to him, her fingers tangled in his hair as he gripped her hips, pulling her flush against his body. The kiss was fervent, unrestrained and the anticipation of the start of a new year and of new adventures.

He broke the kiss only to rest his forehead against hers, his breath coming in shallow bursts. “Happy New Year, love,” he brushed aside a stray strand of hair and straightened the New Year's tiara that sat slightly askew on her head.

“Happy New Year, cariad,” she whispered, her voice soft and laden with emotions she didn’t know if she could put into words. But knew that this man could easily be her undoing.

The First New Year's Eve After the Breakup.

Bryony hadn't wanted to stay home—even if it didn't feel like home yet. The small Sherman Oaks house she'd bought in the blur of time that passed after leaving Dieter still felt sterile, hollow, and unsettlingly quiet. Every room was accented by half-opened and unpacked boxes she had no desire to deal with. The only things on display were Sonny and Cher, Dieter's beloved taxidermy raccoons, which she'd taken out of spite when she'd left, but now it just felt like they were mocking her.

Her parents had invited her home to Wales, promising to make things normal again, and Rhys had offered to put her up in London — but she hadn't wanted to face any of them, face their sympathy, nor get into what had actually transpired between her and Dieter.

So, instead, she'd taken Cricket up on her offer to crash a New Year's party in West Hollywood with a group of designers she barely knew, aside from the fact that they were friends of Crickets. But as much as Cricket's presence comforted her, Bryony felt like she was carrying a black cloud above her head. As much as she was trying to be present, she felt distant, causing people to give her a wide berth.

People smiled politely, but there was always a flicker of recognition in their eyes. They knew who she was—or more precisely, who she'd been with. She'd picked up on snippets of conversations around her until someone whispered too loudly about Dieter Bravo and his latest scandal splashed across Page Six.

Bryony had escaped to the kitchen, her stomach churning as the gossip flitted around the house. Another night, another headline. Dieter Bravo, larger than life and perpetually self-destructive. He hadn't slowed down since she'd left, only ramped up. He'd been doing something he shouldn't with someone he certainly shouldn't have been doing it with, and the news had made her stomach turn sour.

"There you are!" Cricket exclaimed, her voice cutting through her haze. She appeared in the doorway, a tequila bottle in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. Her lipstick was slightly smudged, and her curls—which she was embracing after chemically straightening them for decades, were wild from dancing.

Bryony managed a smile, her first real one of the night she'd hazard a guess. She wasn't sure how she would've made it through the past few months without Cricket.

"C'mon," Cricket said, having finished pouring out shots, she pulled Bryony into a tight side hug and nudged a glass into her hand. "It's almost midnight. Let's toast to us leaving this dumpster fire of a year behind us!"

Bryony didn't argue. The two of them shot back the tequila straight as the countdown began, voices echoing through the house. Cricket pulled her in tight again, kissing her affectionately on the top of her head as the house erupted in cheers, holding her in a silent affirmation that everything would be okay. Even if Bryony didn't quite believe it yet.

The First New Year’s With a Sober Realization.

The night was cold for LA, and Dieter’s home was eerily quiet, the silence only broken by the occasional crack of fireworks somewhere in the distance—someone was getting an early start on the celebrations. Dieter sat slumped on the uncomfortable leather sofa that he probably paid someone an obscene amount of money to tell him how his home should look, though forgoing any level of comfort.

A glass of gin balanced precariously in his hand, the bottle sat on the coffee table, already half-empty. His phone glowed beside him, the faint light irritated him as it illuminated a phone devoid of any notifications or alerts.

He’d tried calling Pierce, his manager, earlier in the evening, a last-ditch attempt at some semblance of normalcy, but the conversation had been short and brutal. After years of managing Dieter’s chaos, Pierce had finally drawn a line in the sand.

“Dieter, I can’t do this anymore,” he’d said, his tone firm but exhausted. “I’m your manager, not your babysitter. You want to ruin yourself? Fine. But I’m not holding your hand while you do it.”

The sting of Pierce’s words had lingered, not the first time Pierce had put him in his place in the twenty-odd years the two had known one another—but it was the first time he’d told him no.

He was alone, not even the usual hangers-on to the tiny amount of fame his name brought could bring him company tonight. The party invitations had dried up over the past year, his antics finally wearing thin even amongst some of the most shameless in Hollywood. Those who were supposed to be friends had moved on to the next bright and shiny thing, leaving Dieter to stew in his own chaos.

He tilted his head back, letting the gin slide down his throat, the sharpness a burn he relished as his eyes settled on the corner of a photo frame atop his mantelpiece. It was cluttered with relics of a life he barely remembered choosing—awards from films that once mattered, framed magazine covers where his smirk had sold a million copies, littered amongst piles of papers, unopened mail and empty liquor bottles.

He didn’t have to get up to know what picture was in the frame, it was committed to memory. It was from years ago—a candid shot taken at some forgotten celebration at Rhys, Bryony’s older brother’s, apartment in London. Dieter, Rhys and Bryony stood together, arms slung around each other in a moment of unbridled joy.

Dieter cracked his jaw, it had been a while since he’d spoken to Rhys—the two had a bond that had outlasted most of Dieter’s friendships. But even that connection had been strained over the last couple of years. He picked up his phone, his thumb hovered over his contacts. He scrolled through until he hit Rhys’ name—it was impulsive, but then when wasn’t Dieter’s brand as of late?

The line rang three times before Rhys picked it up, “Oi! Bravo! Christ mate, haven’t heard from you in a fucking age! What’s happening man, you bored in your Hollywood palace or something?” Rhys’ familiar Welsh accent was punctuated by cheers in the background as he shouted to be heard above the crowd.

Dieter let out a short, dry laugh as he took a sip of his gin, “Something like that.”

There was some shuffling on the line as Rhys spoke to someone else, “So let me guess then Bravo, you calling to boast about some bombshell you’ve got set up for the night?” Rhys laughed to himself, “A little New Year’s fling? Come on, spill it.”

“Nothing this year,” Dieter replied dryly, “just me.”

Rhys barked a laugh, the sound crackling through the speaker like static. “Jesus Dee, that’s bleak, mate. You’re in bloody Los Angeles. You telling me you can’t throw a stone without hitting a Hollywood Hills party?”

Dieter shrugged even though Rhys couldn’t see it. “Not really feeling the Hollywood types these days.” He took another sip of the gin, the burn sharp on his throat making him sit up. “What about you?” he asked, wanting a change in topic, “Sounds like quite the rager on your hands over there.”

Rhys shouted something unintelligible to someone in the background, then returned to the phone. “Living my best life on the East Coast Brav,” he laughed, the sound of clinking glasses in the background. “In New York for an intercontinental piss-up. With some mates and Bryony and her—” Rhys trailed off, evident that he had let slip something he shouldn’t have.

Dieter froze mid-sip. The glass trembled slightly in his hand. There was no mistaking what was missing in the silence. “She’s seeing someone?” he coughed out, trying to sound indifferent but failing miserably.

There was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by Rhys cursing under his breath, before Rhys’ tone shifted, “Look, mate… I probably shouldn’t have said something,” Dieter heard the sharp intake of breath even over the cheers and the booming music. “Deets, we both know this is not a conversation for now—or ever—that you should be having with me. Whatever is going on with Bryony, well that’s her business. I’m saying this as your mate, right? You’re my boy, always have been. But you’re stuck. Stuck in this self-pitying, self-destructive loop. And honestly? It’s getting old. You can’t keep clinging to things that aren’t there anymore.” His voice softened, almost pitying. “It’s New Year’s, yeah? Maybe it’s time you started thinking about what kind of life you really want for yourself.”

The words hit Dieter like a punch, sharper and harder than anything Pierce or anyone else had ever said to him. “I wasn’t—” He stopped, admitting to himself that anything he said would be nothing but an excuse. “Pretty profound for you, isn’t it?”

Rhys laughed, the lightness returning to his voice. “I know, mate. Don’t know where the fuck that came from. Must be the champagne.” Dieter could hear someone calling Rhys in the background, “Look, I need to go… Happy New Year, Dee, speak soon?”

“Yeah, Happy New Year Rhys,” Dieter managed to stumble out before the line clicked.

Dieter was about to throw the phone down, but before he did impulsiveness hit again. Quickly shuffling screens he opened Instagram, his fingers under muscle memory found Bryony’s profile with ease. He scrolled through her photos, thumb hovering over each one. At her parents’ in Wales at Christmas, fairy lights glowing in the background and the family’s dog in her arms. A photo of her at some posh rooftop event in London, champagne in hand. And then, there it was—a group photo taken recently in New York. She stood on the far left, her smile soft and glowing, wearing a sleek black dress that hugged her in all the right places. Beside her, the guy. Suit and tie, clean-cut, the complete opposite of everything Dieter was.

Dieter lit a cigarette, the tip glowing orange in the dim light. He took a drag, studying the photo like he was looking for something. His thumb hovered over the call button on her profile for a moment before he hesitated. Instead, he tapped her contact in his favourites, the one he’d stubbornly never deleted.

The line rang. Once. Twice. Three times.

Dieter’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching in his throat. He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he waited for it to connect.

“The number you have dialled is not available. Please try again.”

The automated message hit him like a punch to the gut. He stared at the screen, his thumb still hovering over the call button as if willing it to connect as he tried the number again, and then again a third time.

She’d changed her number.

Dieter let out a bitter laugh, dropping his phone onto the table with a clatter. For the first time in years, he felt something crack. He stared at the cigarette between his fingers, the smoke curling lazily toward the ceiling, and muttered to himself, “Happy fucking New Year.”

The First New Year's Eve With Baby Fi.

"She's so tiny," Dieter whispered, his voice filled with the awe that had not wavered since the arrival of Baby Fi less than two weeks ago.

Bryony gave a tired smile, leaning her head against his shoulder, "She's perfect," she yawned.

She hadn't been expected until January 24th, the date circled in bold red Sharpie on the calendar that hung in the kitchen. Dieter had been elated by this news at their first appointment with the OB-GYN. The idea of Baby Bravo possibly sharing a birthday with Fiona the hippo felt like fate, he’d declared, prompting Bryony to roll her eyes. But Baby Bravo had other plans—much like her father, bypassing all etiquette and social norms to arrive five days before Christmas, throwing all of their plans out the window.

The hospital room was a far cry from some of the glamorous parties they had once attended, yet it had become their refuge as Bryony recovered and Baby Fi observed. Dieter had spent his time darting from Bryony’s room to the NICU, his usually chaotic energy subdued by the weight of their new reality.

The good news had been delivered that afternoon. They would be going home the day after New Year’s with both Bryony and Fi doing well. With that promise, a special overnight guest had joined them in the room they now called home. It was cozy, lit by the string lights the nurses had chosen to ignore, alongside the decorations Dieter had brought from home—including a tiny artificial tree that offered a gentle, festive glow.

Dieter pulled Bryony tighter against his side, pressing a kiss to her temple as he brushed back her hair. He hadn’t realized his adoration for the woman—who had given him more chances than he deserved—could grow even deeper, but now his heart burst with a joy he once thought out of reach.

Bryony held Fi in her arms, her tiny form swaddled in layers of blankets with tiny stitched hippos. Dieter watched as Bryony ran a gentle finger over their daughter’s cheek—both of them had agreed that they couldn’t believe there had ever been a time before she had entered their world.

Quiet cheers drifted in from the nurses’ station, where they raised plastic champagne glasses filled with sparkling cider, enjoying the spread of treats Dieter had asked Pierce to arrange, all in thanks for their care.

As the cheers continued to drift through, Dieter turned to Bryony, his eyes shining. “Happy New Year, Daff.”

The Last New Year's Eve…

The night hadn’t gone exactly to plan, but then again, in the Bravo household, when had things ever played out as planned?

The house was quiet, except for the faint hum of white noise over the baby monitor out in the living room. The light above the stove cast a warm glow over the kitchen in tandem with the lights on the large artificial tree that bridged the transition from the kitchen to the family room in the open-plan space. Both illuminated Bryony as she swayed barefoot on the hardwood floor, holding Fi against her hip. The sequined and feather-laden dress she hadn’t yet had the chance to change out of caught the light with every movement, casting tiny flecks of glitter across the room like stars.

Fi was wide awake, her small hand clutching the neckline of Bryony’s dress. Her cheeks were still flushed from the fever that had pulled them home early from the New Year’s party Bryony’s parents, visiting for Fi’s first birthday, had practically pushed them out the door to attend saying they had everything covered while caring for their granddaughter.

But with just under an hour to midnight, the call had come. Fi was restless, her little body too warm to the touch, and before either of them could finish their drinks, they were in an Uber home through the maze of LA’s uncharacteristically quiet streets.

Fi’s eyes were bright as she followed her mother’s every movement, eliciting tired giggles from her lips when Bryony would twirl them both to a song Bryony sang under her breath.

From the arched entrance to the kitchen, Dieter stood silently, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, an almost disbelieving smile on his face. He hadn’t made a sound since coming in from checking the thermostat in Fi’s room and making sure Bryony’s parents were settled; he was too captivated by the sight before him. His wife, radiant even in her exhaustion, her hair loose and wild from the night’s chaos, barefoot and glowing as she danced with their daughter in the glow of the Christmas lights.

He wasn’t sure if it was the haze of the small glass of champagne he’d allowed himself earlier or just the sheer weight of the moment, but his chest ached in a way that made him feel like the luckiest man alive.

As Bryony twirled again, she caught sight of Dieter out of the corner of her eye, his shirt half untucked and unbuttoned—he’d lost the bowtie before they’d even arrived at Pierce’s party. “I think I’m going to have to tap you in soon to help me tire her out before she tires me out,” she laughed, as Fi whipped her head around in glee at the presence of her father.

Dieter stepped forward, the soft soles of his shoes barely making a sound on the floor. “You two look like something out of a dream,” his voice was low, almost reverent.

Bryony rolled her eyes, though the faint flush on her cheeks betrayed her, “I’m barefoot in a dress I’m bursting out of, holding a feverish baby—dreams don’t usually come with teething-induced meltdowns.”

Dieter stopped just in front of her, his smile deepening as he carefully took Fi into his arms. “I don’t know,” he pressed a kiss to the top of Fi’s head before shifting his gaze back to Bryony, “this feels pretty dreamy to me.” His dark eyes were full of a warmth that still had the ability to make her catch her breath as he reached out with his free hand and tucked a stray lock of her dark hair behind her ear.

Bryony shook her head, “Careful, you’re laying it on thick tonight, Mr. Bravo. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re trying to get lucky.”

“Who’s to say I’m not?” Dieter quipped, his grin mischievous as he adjusted Fi in one arm, her tiny hands patting his face. “Though, considering the last time we got lucky…” he drifted off.

Bryony huffed a laugh, “And look what that ended us up with.”

Somewhere, the clock turned midnight and fireworks from the Hollywood Hills could be heard in the distance.

Dieter’s hand moved to Bryony’s stomach, his thumb brushing over the fabric of her dress where it clung slightly tighter than it had the last time he’d seen her in it. His grin widened as he glanced down, then back at her, his voice dropping to a husky murmur, “Well, if this is the result,” he dropped a kiss to the top of her head, “I’d say we did pretty damn well Daff, wouldn’t you?” He pulled her closer, his touch gentle but firm, a man fully aware of the treasure he held. “Happy New Year’s babe.”

#dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo x ofc #dieter bravo #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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fallen-gravity · 1 year ago

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Same energy!

NO YOU SEE I'M STILL INSANE ABOUT THIS I WROTE A WHOLE ANALYSIS ON THIS BACK IN APRIL/MAY

This goes even doubly so now!! Obviously Ollie's parents aren't anywhere near as horrible to him as Belos was to Hunter, but it's about being denied affection in a time of need and forgetting that you deserve it and the oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. reaction you have when you finally recieve it. Ollie defies his parents and tells them hey, I don't want to hunt ghosts anymore, I stopped hunting ghosts ages ago because they can be good, actually, and I have proof, and even though he didn't say it in those words or in any way that made it seem like he was talking on nay level other than a hypothetical one, his parents still rejejcted him. Sure, they hugged him and said they were proud of him for how empathetic he's become, but not before shoving him away and scolding him on how wrong he is.

Ollie and Hunter both struggle with the idea that love is something that you earn. Even way back in Book Marks the Sprite, when Ollie still genuinely believed in ghost hunting, a good portion of his plot of the episode was about how he just wanted trust and respect. He put a special emphasis on not wanting to let Molly down in particular. He feels like he has to earn her trust and affection now that she knows he hunts ghosts, and that's before he even knew about Scratch! He thinks he's only worthy of affection and praise if he's doing something right. He especially makes emphasis on this while they're at the ice cream shop when he states that Molly's not like the others. Others see him and his family as a joke, but she doesn't.

Episodes following Some-Ollie like Frightmares and Unhaunting show him struggling with a similar problem. He knows he did something wrong, and therefore he thinks he's practically human garbage for it. He wants to get better, mind you, and actively tries, but he's so, so quick to jumping to conclusions that everyone must hate him and that there's nothing he can do about it that it usually takes Molly taking him by the hand to snap him out of that whirlwind of thoughts. He doesn't feel worthy of love unless he proves himself, so when he recieves it without actually doing anything spectactular to earn it, it catches him off-guard. Unhaunting is a really good example of this, because the thing that stops him from crying during his breakdown is Molly gently grabbing him by the shoulder. Sure, her words are what stops him from breaking down, but essentially....

this is what makes his brain halt for a moment. He's recieving gentle affection when he thinks he doesn't deserve it. Ollie, like Hunter, thinks the only option for doing something wrong is isolation and punishment.

The Grand Gesture is such a fun episode for similar reasons. Molly's not really acting like herself, and she keeps setting him up for all of these grand gestures that either end up going disastorously wrong or just happen to fall in line with things she didn't know he didn't like. He sees her going over the top for him, he hears her calling their walk in the park romantic, he sees the blush on her face, and he...

thinks she hates him.

He has so much internalized self-hatred that it's hard for him to believe that Molly could possibly like him. Especially so soon after he opened himself up to his parents and got rejected. Probably especially after what happened at the school dance a few months(?) prior. It's his default to assume he's the one doing something wrong.

So when you take the boy who hates himself with everything he has, and you give him a girl who loves him with every fibre of her being, well....

it's no wonder you're going to find similarities

#asks #tgamm #the ghost and molly mcgee #mollie #ollie chen #molly mcgee #huntlow

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higherrealmswellness · 3 months ago

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#higher realms wellness #vampire #personal care #anti aging #skincare #skincare products #october #spooky #spooky season #spooky month #subscribe and save #higher realms

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kingbyx · 5 months ago

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Little Cathy what a dream, held her hand and made her scream.

—

Stanford was stood, somehow even more anxiously than usual, in front of his locker. Class had only ended a few minutes before, but it was Friday and the school was already pretty much empty.

Still, a handful of students hung around to talk to friends, make plans, collect things from their locker for the weekend, and, apparently, consider every life choice that had led them to the current moment.

That is what Ford was doing. Standing at his open locker with his hands shoved deep in his pockets (as they often were at school) despite having nothing more he needed to get from it, and questioning his life.

His brother, Stanley, stood next to him. An obnoxious smile on his face as he nudged him away from his locker and tilted his head towards the other side of the hall.

“It’ll be fine Sixer, just go!” Stan said, winking in an exaggerated manor. With a sign, Ford complied. Taking his time to lock his locker, ensure his bag was zipped and his hands were hidden in his pockets, he took the five steps down the hall to where Cathy stood at her locker.

You see, the terrified Ford had a good reason to be scared.

He had a crush.

Stanford had never like a girl before, though he had understood it was expected of him by the age of 15 to have such feelings for the opposite sec.

Cathy was different though, he actually wanted to talk to someone other than his brother for once! She was cool, and confident, but smart like he was, one of the top students in their year. She was brilliant in mathematics, and though she wasn’t against sports she never seemed overly enthusiastic about them.

She was a lot like Ford, but more, he wished he could have her confidence as she walked down the halls without fear. When he had explained to Stan his conflicting emotions, he had immediately jumped to tease him for his crush.

Though he hadn’t thought to label it himself, he was now convinced that’s what it was. Why else would he want to talk to her? Clearly, it was the only good explanation.

Stan had given him the plan- to ask her if she wanted to go for a walk and check out the new ice cream shop that had opened by the beach- and so here he was. Standing by the locker of his crush with sweaty palms hidden in his pockets and what was certainly a terribly awkward smile on his face, no matter how normal he tried to force it to be.

Before he could open his mouth to get the first word in, Cathy looked up and beat him to it.

“Oh, hey. Pines, right?”

His eyes widened in alarm. This was not going to plan! He had a weather appropriate conversation starter ready and everything! He panicked, stumbling over words as he tried to return her greeting.

“Ye- yes, that’s uh, that’s me! Ford- uh, Stanford Pine’s. You might know my brother Stanley, he talks to many people- uh, I think! And you are Cathy- you’re- you’re the only other tenth grader in my advanced physics class.” He stopped himself, laughing anxiously, that was terribly awkward even by his standards. An that bar may as well have been in hell with how low it was.

Cathy, completely defying his expectations again, laughed at his awkwardness. But it didn’t feel targeted like it usually did- she was laughing with him, not at him.

“Yeah, yeah, I remember you. You sit right by the front, you’re very smart, always happy to answer questions- even when the teacher hadn’t asked them.” Her posture was relaxed as she spoke, a light smile on her face as she laughed at her own joke, most people were tense as they spoke to him. Whether in fear or anger it didn’t matter, they often came together.

“You seemed very smart as well, it was so exciting to see another person my age in that class with me.” Cathy agreed with him again, this was going shockingly well! He almost wasn’t sure how to proceed after such a turn of events, but he forced himself to push forward.

“Oh, uh, any- anyways,” the awkward stutter forced itself back into his mouth, and he had been doing to well too, shit! “I was wondering, if- of maybe you wanted to go check out that new ice cream shop that opened by the beach? I was, uh, meant to go with my brother, but he had plans, and I thought it would be- it would be nice to get to know you. You seem really cool, and confident, and smart- and, and-“

“I’d love to, Ford. You seem pretty cool too. Do you have anything after school or do you just want to go now, it’s not far to the beach if we go through the bush, it’s a beautiful walk too.”

Ford was all smiles and red cheeks as he happily accepted, quickly asking Stan to tell their parents where he went, and assure them he wouldn’t do anything dumb.

The walk was beautiful, and they got to the beach in nearly half the time Fords planned route would have gotten them. He made sure to remember the shortcut.

She never once asked about the fact that he kept his hands firmly in his pockets the whole time. She knew about his fingers, of course she did- the whole school did, though only the bullies really brought it up, he knew that most were aware of his defect. That they, even if they didn’t say it, thought he was weird.

Cathy was different though, she was smart like him, and she didn’t care about his fingers. It was perfect, she was perfect.

It was a short but nice walk down the road to find the little hut with the shiny new ice cream logo, advertising new and classic flavours and all sorts of add ons.

“What are you gonna get?” He asked as they got closer, standing at the back of the short line. Gesturing with his head towards the large sign above the counter with the many flavours displayed.

“Hmmm, not sure, I might be boring and try their vanilla though, it’s one of my favorite flavours.” She replied.

“That’s not boring at all!” He said, “vanilla is a wonderful flavour. You should try the French vanilla, it’s always better than regular, that’s why it’s my favorite flavour besides cotton candy.”

“Cotton candy? Not what I was expecting from you Ford.”

“My brother always said it was a strange choice aswell, but he thinks most of what I do is strange- even when it’s something as simple as studying for a test!”

Cathy laughed, and so did Ford. It was nice.

They got to the front of line line and ordered- Cathy with a waffle cone of French vanilla and Ford with a basic cone of Cotton Candy- and walked towards the beach to enjoy their treats.

The sun was still high in the sky, parents and children ran along the beach laughing and playing as Cathy and Ford talked. Not dressed for water, they stayed back from the waves, but they did end up taking their shoes off to enjoy the warm sand.

Ford, without really noticing, kept one of his fingers somewhat tucked away beneath the rest as he held him cone. Cathy didn’t seem to care about his mutation, but it was habit.

By the time they had finished their ice cream, the sun was nearly beginning to set, and the beach around them was void of people- they had walked past the busiest sections and into the lesser used, quiet areas.

“We should get heading back, my parents want me home by 7,” Cathy said, and Ford nodded his agreement before turning around, “I’m sure my parents feel the same,” he said. They began walking back towards busier areas of the beach.

They continued to speak as they walked, about school, friends, the future, books they liked, whatever came to mind. Ford kept his hands in his pockets again, but Cathy let hers swing freely at her sides.

There was maybe… 10 minutes of walking before they got back to the most popular areas of the beach, when Ford felt suddenly brave.

Cautiously, he pulled his hands from his pocket and brought it to Cathy’s the next time it swung by. Their hands brushed in a silent question.

Without stoping talking, her hand grabbed his. His fingers curled around hers, glad his sudden bravery had payed off, when Cathy suddenly went still beside him.

She looked down at their hands, fingers sliding across his own until she was holding his hand up and in front of her face.

His other hand came up to do- well, he wasn’t sure what exactly, but something- and seeing his other hand, was the straw that broke the camels back, the confirmation that she wasn’t hallucinating.

Dropping his hand, Cathy screamed.

—

A little over an hour later, Stanford stumbled into his brothers bedroom. Stanley was sat on his bed, struggling through over due homework that he hated doing, probably forced by their parents. He looked up at his brother as he entered, a smile on his face, but it fell quickly when he saw him.

Ford met himself fall onto the bed beside him, quickly gathered into a side hug.

“I thought it was going well?

He simply shook his head no.

Later, he would explain what happened. How Cathy had been terrified- probably the only person in the school who hadn’t know about his fingers- and how a kind older woman had heard her scream and came running. She had thought Ford was some predator, assaulting young girls on the beach.

He had booked it, hearing Cathy explaining the situation behind him. He wasn’t sure exactly what she said- if it was positive or negative. He had no idea how she really felt- logically, he knew it was probably just shock- but his heart refused to listen to logic.

Cathy though he was a freak- a monster, just like the rest of him.

It wasn’t the time for all of that though. Now, it was the time to return his brothers hug and to help him with his homework.

Stanley would always be there for him.

#gravity falls #stanford pines #stanly pines #fanfic #drabble #too lazy to edit this and post to ao3 so here you go #wrote this in like an hour #the book of bill has dragged me kicking and screaming back into this fandom #I missed it so glad we’re back #based on that one code from journal 3on stanfords page

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