#and shout out to my mutuals for not blocking me like they should after my yellowjackets spam

[euroclydonn]

Shout out to Ashley's friend bre who she's mutual with on tumblr who gets to watch us flirt

[sonotpattismith]

gee willikers, batman!

pairing: boxer!choso x nurse!reader word count: 11k content: fluff, always a lil angsty w/ me, commitment issues, mentions of toxic relationship dynamics, for my girlies w/ a fearful-avoidant attachment style, big brother choso, mentions of abuse and domestic violence, smut, 18+ a/n: not sure if I like how this turned out but alas we shall persevere :')

You desperately needed to develop a better taste in men. Or a therapist. Whichever came to you faster would be best. 

In reality, it should have been a sign early on into your career when you were so drawn toward the Emergency Department specifically that perhaps you had a certain… affinity for the more chaotic things in life. It was evident in your job, and it was evident in your disaster ex-boyfriend who you’d just broken up with a mere week shy of your one year anniversary. 

He, like the many other men you’ve let waltz into your life, might as well have had ‘RED FLAG’ tattooed across his forehead, but it seemed you were never satisfied unless you were on the brink of a complete crash out— at least that was how you’d always felt until now. Maybe you were getting too old for it, all the bad boy types who had you clinging onto your phone in a furious rage most nights arguing over god knows what. It was never simple, but you seemed to enjoy the thrill of the ‘shoot first, ask questions later’ types of attitudes. 

Again, at least until your latest wannabe edge lord candidate had had you so fed up with his overbearing possessiveness that you were sure your nervous system was completely fried. It wasn’t until that last fight though, that ended with your phone screen shattered after he’d tossed it across the room in a child-like tantrum that was just so like him— the one after which you found yourself having to practice the very same fucking grounding techniques you’d show your patients when experiencing panic attacks prior to procedures— you thought perhaps it was time for a change. 

Which was precisely why you couldn’t for the life of you understand why your coworker insisted on taking you here of all places. Ierie had been working with you for a few years now, so she had already heard about every argument, block, and makeup between you and that disaster of an ex-boyfriend of yours. Though she tried (not very hard but tried nonetheless) to conceal her unbridled excitement when you told you that you had ended things, she was practically bursting at the seams. 

After the poorly concealed praise to a higher being she performed following the news, she did still want to be there for you. That was why she insisted on hanging out tonight so you wouldn’t have to be alone on what was supposed to be your one year anniversary. The catch was though, she seemed to have forgotten that she had already promised one of her long time friends from highschool that she’d be at his fight that same night. 

Which led you to the very predicament you were in now, damn near overstimulated by the hollering and sweaty bodies pushing against you in the overcrowded, modestly sized arena that looked like it hadn’t been maintenanced in at least ten years. Ierie’s cold hand was dragging you by the wrist to assure you didn’t get swallowed up by the crowd, claiming that her friend had already reserved two spots toward the front. 

“I know I came here to support him, but I don’t think Suguru is winning this thing.” She shouted over the crowd once you two found your spots, watching as a burly man stalked around the area taking bets for the fight. 

“Geez, some friend you are.” You snorted with an amused shake of your head. “Does he suck or something?”

Truthfully, you knew nothing about boxing. It was never really your thing, even though you seemed to have quite a few mutual friends involved in the local boxing scene. You weren’t sure of the big names that everyone threw around, who was good and who was mediocre. Despite the fact that you’d much rather be rotting in bed, wallowing in your own self-pity right about now, you figured you should at least try to enjoy yourself and understand what you were watching. 

“No, it’s not that.” She shook her head, her neck craning up to watch as the boxers began making their way out. “The guy he’s going up against is like a fucking machine. He never loses— at least I’ve never seen it.”

“Crazy strong?” You assumed, watching as the man you recognized as her friend hopped into the ring, his long hair pulled back into a neat bun out of his face. Shoko hummed unconvincingly. 

“Nah, I heard he’s got a kid or something. So, I think he’s just crazy determined is all.” 

You hummed, suddenly intrigued to see someone going against Geto— who was already scarily large in your book— with nothing but pure motivation to provide under his belt. As they announced his name— Choso— and he ducked into the ring across from his opponent, you realized that he definitely had more on his side than Shoko let on. 

“Holy shit.” You muttered under your breath, lips parting as you watched him shed his jacket. He looked fairly young for a father, but the dark circles under his eyes surely fit the bill. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so shocked given his line of work, but the man was built like a tank, insanely broad shoulders to carry around those down right dangerous biceps of his.

“Eh? Didn’t I say this would take your mind off of what’s his face?” Your friend grinned knowingly with a teasing nudge of her elbow. She jutted her chin toward the ring. “Think his kid needs a step-mom?”

“Ierie,” You flushed with a breathless laugh. Suguru and Choso met in the middle of the ring, touching their gloved fists together as they awaited the match to begin. “Did you not hear me when I said I need a little bit of peace in my life for once?”

She didn’t respond to your rhetorical question though, because the opening bell was ringing and the boxers began dancing around the ring faster than you could process, administering and dodging blows so fluidly it almost looked choreographed. You noticed how Choso protected his face the majority of the match, ducking and dodging far more than actually swinging. When he did swing though, he swung hard. You wondered with your limited knowledge of the sport if his strategy was just tiring his opponent out. 

A few minutes in, you found yourself flinching back with each punch that was thrown his way, but Geto rarely landed one on his opponent. 

“I knew you’d go gaga for this!” Shoko shouted with a delighted laugh. “You love the dangerous ones!” 

“Shut up!” You grumbled back at her, chewing at the side of your thumb anxiously as the two grew closer to the side of the ring you and Shoko were stationed at. 

Of course, they likely knew what they were doing, but you couldn’t help but think of worst case scenario where these two two-hundred plus pound fighters toppled over the ring and onto your unsuspecting and unprepared body. You abruptly stood from your seat as Geto was cornered against the ring, his back facing you just a mere couple feet away. 

From up close as Choso was landing calculated blows on his trapped opponent, you were able to see that subtle pout in his lips that contrasted against the big and scary vibe every other part of him emanated. The mark across his nose scrunched up in sheer focus, stray bangs from his haphazard bun falling across his forehead. 

It only took a second, your abrupt movement shifting in his peripheral. His dark eyes drifted up just over Geto’s shoulder and met yours. The gloved fists that had been raised and shielding his face for nearly the entire match slowly faltered, drifting down in hopes of getting a better look at your wide eyed expression. 

Those glossy eyes were locked on him, and perhaps he was too awestruck to note that— yeah, everyone was looking at him right now— because it truly did feel as though you were the only one in the room for even just a moment. The whiplash hit him straight in the ribs harder than any opponent could land, knocking the air from his lungs as he watched your face morph in horror. It was just milliseconds following the abrupt change that Geto’s glove was hitting him smack-dab in the center of his face. 

You yelled out in surprise as Choso was instantly knocked back, falling onto the unforgiving ground below him while the arena erupted in hollers, because shit, everyone had bet on him. Even Suguru looked taken aback by how quickly his opponent dropped, because he’d fought with him before and definitely knew that he usually kept his stance stiff enough so that blows like that didn’t take him down so easily— and they certainly never kept him down.

The referee had knelt down beside him to count him down, but you were more concerned by the way blood had begun to trickle out of his nose and even the corner of his mouth. His eyes were barely open, squinting blearily at the blinding lights above him. 

“He’s gonna aspirate if they don’t move him off his back.” You shouted desperately at Shoko, clutching anxiously onto her elbow. 

“They have to count him down— rules are rules.” She stated absentmindedly, getting on her tiptoes to get a better look. “You’re off the clock.”

Ten seconds. He could get through it, you tried to convince yourself as you bounced on your heels. Time was moving too slow though, and you watched in dread as his chest heaved with a cough, the blood that had gathered in his mouth sputtering up to paint his chin and cheeks. 

“They’re gonna kill him.” Your frantic declaration had barely processed in your friend's mind before you were hopping through the ropes and hoisting yourself into the ring. She was yelling out to you, and one of the boxer’s cornermen shot forward to stop you, but you had already slid onto your knees beside the referee, who was also trying to push you back. “He’s choking on his blood!” 

They paused at your sudden, furied response, too startled to do anything as you grabbed his shoulder and mustered all your strength to roll him onto his side. Finally on his side, you reached over to pull the guard from his mouth. At once, Choso began sputtering up and coughing, coating the floor with the blood that he had been drowning in.

As he continued clearing his airway, your fingers carefully dug into the back of his head, threading through his hair to check for blood. With the sudden movements, he was slowly beginning to come to, though all he could hear through the ringing in his ears was the muffled uproar from the crowd. Blinking back his delirium, he lazily shifted onto his back once again, eyes drifting back shut.

“No, no, no— sit up for me.” Your voice instructed him through the haze of his attempted slumber. 

Even Geto had shed his gloves and was kneeling down to help you get him upright. 

“I didn’t even hit him that hard.” He explained in bafflement, the most subtle layer of guilt twinging his tone. “It’s like he completely ragdolled for a second.”

It took all the energy Choso had remaining to blink up at you. The sight of you— the same girl who had thrown him out of his zone for likely the first time ever in his career— his consciousness seemed to come flooding back to him. Sitting up quickly with your’s and Geto’s urging hands under his back, he looked around frantically in an attempt to grasp what had happened. 

“Do you feel nauseous?” You asked him as he watched your lips form in a frenzy around the words. 

Blood was beginning to pour from his quickly bruising nose into his lips, and the thus far useless cornermen bounded over with a small towel. Bunching it up, you carefully placed it onto his nose before tilting his head forward to allow it to flow out. 

“I-I don’t—” Choso was stammering, as was so very common for him, but never in the ring, and he was coming to the mortifying revelation that the insanely gorgeous girl just watched him get the lights knocked out of him with a single blow. 

Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. You moved the towel aside to hear him better. 

“I don’t usually, uh—” He gulped, face flushing embarrassingly dark for someone who was on the brink of a possible concussion. You tilted your head at him. “Y’know, lose that easy— hah.” 

His attempted nonchalant laughter sounded more like a nervous sigh, but his slurred explanation had an amused smile curling through the concerned pout of your lips. He found himself smiling along with you, blood coating his teeth. 

“So I’ve heard, hot-shot.” You quipped with a shake of your head, pressing the towel back into his nose just as the medic finally hopped into the ring. Your eyes remained on his dopey expression as you tilted your head to the side to address them in a hushed tone. “Check him for a concussion, he’s looking crazy.”

Choso did not, in fact, have a concussion. At least that’s what the medic deduced in the back after having assessed him. Given that there, for some god forsaken reason, only seemed to be one medic present, you aided in transporting him to the back where you stuck around for support. Shoko was rolling her eyes in exasperation, mumbling something incoherent about your never taking a day off. She was however thoroughly entertained by the notion that the Choso Kamo got knocked onto his ass for the first time solely because he got a glimpse of you. Despite the evidence that was pointing there, you vehemently continued to disagree with her on what caused his little hiccup in the ring. 

The medic was packing his things up as you were not-so-subtly re-checking his pupil reactions, because you seriously were questioning the credentials of the supposed medical professional that was about to let the man aspirate right in the ring. Choso didn’t question your insistence on double-checking, his wide, chocolate eyes following your pen light obediently— any excuse to be at the center of your attention for a little longer, right?

“So you’re, um—” His gaze fluttered as you clicked the light off before switching it to your other hand and turning it back on. “You’re a doctor?” 

You smiled fondly and shook your head. 

“An ER nurse— my friend over there’s a doctor though.” You explained, nodding your head back to where Shoko was speaking to Geto. She shouted something about being off the clock before continuing her conversation. 

Choso hummed, blinking away the spots in his eyes left behind by the light. Upon closer inspection, you noted that the mark running jaggedly across his nose and cheeks was a scar, and not an oddly placed tattoo as you had assumed when first seeing it. If he noticed you staring, he made no indication of it— not with the puppy-dog like gaze he still had on you, a small smile on his blood-stained lips. 

His attention was pulled away from you as a ping rang from his dufflebag. Tearing his eyes from yours, he quickly fumbled through his clothes before procuring his cellphone. In a last-ditch effort to make it seem like you weren’t just staring at the man, you busied yourself with cleaning up the blood-soaked towels and tissues that had begun surrounding him. 

“Is everything okay?” Choso had barely glanced at the screen before quickly taking the call. “He’s still not asleep?”

You watched his brows furrow from your peripheral, and you desperately tried to mind your own business. In the louder corners of your mind though, Shoko’s words rang in your mind about his having a child. Despite only having spoken a few words to him, you just couldn’t see how this young, gentle-giant of a man was a father. 

“Yeah,” His voice had become lighter suddenly, an amused smile painting his face so affectionately it damn near gave you baby fever. “Tell him I’m fine— I should be home in a little bit.”

You quickly averted your sidelong glance once he hung up the phone, moving to wash your blood stained hands in the dingy sink that sat in the corner. From the mirror, you could see him digging through his bag to grab a shirt. 

“Sorry— my babysitter called.” He explained as he tugged a baggy, graphic tee over his head. As if it took him a moment to realize how that sounded, his frantic face was quickly popping out the neck of the shirt to clarify. “I take care of my little brother, I mean. I’m not um— y’know, his… dad.”

With a soft hum of acknowledgement, you could have cursed yourself for the subtle excitement brewing in your stomach at the fact that this man was likely single—  and he wanted you to know it, too. Reaching down to grab your bag from the bench, you slung it over your shoulder.  Jumping into action, Choso was quickly picking up his own bag to walk beside you. 

“Big brother’s a boxer, huh? He must think you’re a god.” 

“Oh, he doesn’t know, actually.” He corrected with a subtle flush, his hand fiddling with the strap of his bag. Noting the way your brows rose in surprise, he offered a meek smile. “I just don’t want him getting caught up in all this.”

“And how does he suppose you get all those bruises then?” You teased, but you were quickly putting two and two together that keeping his job a secret from his little brother was likely the reason for his oddly calculated boxing approach. He never seemed to make risky moves, always preferring to protect himself above all else and only striking when he was sure to land it. 

Suddenly, a bashful expression overtook his face, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck sheepishly as his eyes darted away from you. It was undeniably endearing to see such a tall and muscular man so easily flustered, especially considering how solemnly terrifying he appeared in the ring. 

“Well, he…” He scratched at his head before huffing out a chuckle. “He kind of thinks I’m Batman.”

A choked laugh attempted to hide itself within your throat, but it, of course, failed miserably. Choso turned away from you in hopes that you wouldn’t see the maroon color that painted his neck and cheeks. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh. That’s just really cute.” You explained through uncontrolled giggles, not missing the way Shoko rose a knowing brow at you as the two of you drew closer. “Well, uh… good luck with that bruise then, Batman.”

“Y-You should let me grab you dinner— y’know to… thank you for not letting me choke.” You turned as Choso chuckled nervously, the hand you had placed on your friend’s arm to head out with her falling. 

 Your gaze fluttered as you looked back at his hopeful expression, but all you could think about was the fact that you’d just broken up with your boyfriend just a week prior because he was no good for you. Staring back at the crusted blood at the corner of his mouth, along with the way his nose was blossoming with a vibrant black and blue hue, you shook your head with an apologetic smile. 

“I’ve got a shift in the morning.” You explained, having to turn away lest your heart break at the way his face seemed to fall ever-so-slightly. “But I hope you feel better!”

As you and Shoko left, she was whisper-shouting over her shoulder an apology to him about your only liking assholes with a feigned subtlety. It was the subdued goodnight that he still called out to you even in the midst of his rejection that had you staring up at your ceiling that night wondering if you’d always be hard-wired to make things difficult for yourself. 

You wished you had had the opportunity to forget about the interaction altogether the following morning at the start of your shift. Typically, working in the ER meant fast-paced, constantly needing to be on edge, and certainly not having the time to think about anything else other than what might be walking through those doors at any moment. As fate would have it though, today was one of the rare instances that your shift was absolutely dragging. 

It was already nearly a quarter of the way into your shift, and all you had triaged so far was an elderly woman with a mild cough, a kid trying to get out of his school’s testing day with a feigned stomach ache, and a hungover college student in desperate need of IV fluids. Needless to say, you were beginning to grow restless. 

You were a mere ten minutes away from throwing in the towel and taking your lunch break early, a luxury you were almost never privileged to, when your pager pinged alerting a new patient. Sitting up with a start, you quickly clicked at your computer to wake it up and check the chart. 

Possible head injury; rule out TBI

Maybe if you hadn’t been so eager to just get up and do something, you would have read into their chart more. For now though, you were avidly collecting your things to check in the first patient you’ve had in the last two hours. Lugging the vitals machine behind you, you offered a soft knock on the wall as you glanced over the chart one more time and slid the curtain open. Your mouth popped open as your eyes finally landed on the name. 

“Choso?” You muttered under your breath, brows furrowing as you looked up from the chart to see the very man you suspected perched upon the sterile bed. 

He almost looked surprised to see you at first, those dewey eyes of his widening ever-so-slightly at the sight of you before a smile spread across his lips. Upon first glance, he looked to be the picture of health (save for the now diabolical bruise spread across the center of his face), smiling and bright eyed with no visible reason for why he’d be complaining of a head injury. As if noting the way your eyes began to narrow doubtfully at him, he quickly attempted to wipe the smile from his face. 

“Um— I was… I was starting to feel symptoms of a concussion.” The burly man stammered out as though rehearsed. 

Barely able to bite back your own amused grin, you tucked the chart under your arm before leaning against the wall expectantly. You made a go on motion with a wave of your hand, but Choso hadn’t expected to be so distracted by the sight of you in your scrubs. Rolling his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, he gulped nervously. 

“Y’know, like a… headache a-and uh…” An anxious smile graced his face as you raised a skeptical brow at him. He couldn’t help it though— not with the way your jogger-style scrub bottoms hugged at your curves so tantalizingly, and you looked so cute with your stethoscope hanging around your neck, the one that would surely catch the way his traitorous heart was racing against his rib cage. 

“How did you know which hospital I worked at, Choso?” You finally interrogated once he’d been stammering a little too long to come up with other relevant symptoms. 

He cast his eyes to the side as you moved to pull the sleeve of his t-shirt up to wrap the blood pressure cuff around his bulging bicep. Though you had already deduced that he was likely fine, he had still been registered as a patient, and now you needed to go through the typical procedures. You wondered if he was even aware of how attractive he was, because the way he remained oblivious to the manner in which you ran a hand unnecessarily down his arm on your way to the pump told you that he had no clue.

“Lucky guess.” He tried to come off as cool, hoping you wouldn’t see through the fact that this was the third emergency room he’d been to today. It wouldn’t let him rest though— the memory of you hovering above him as he came to, the thought that you had jumped into a boxing ring for a stranger and essentially saved his life. “You didn’t let me thank you yesterday. You saved my life.”

“Don’t you have a kid to be taking care of?” You quipped teasingly, a bit flustered at his gratitude as you undid the cuff from his arm. This time around, he did notice the way you rubbed soothingly at the mark left behind by the cuff, and whether conscious or not, he found himself flexing his arm ever-so-slightly just for you.

“Yuji? He’s at school.” Choso explained dismissively before quickly veering back on topic. “I wanted to make sure you were coming to the rematch, but I didn’t have your number.”

He opened his mouth obediently as you nudged the thermometer against his lips, lifting his tongue for you to rest it underneath. The way his pretty, pink lips wrapped around the thermometer made your breath hitch, and you forced yourself to tear your eyes from his as they bore intently into you. You hummed once it beeped, shedding the sterile cover into the bin by the bed. 

“Rematch, huh?” He nodded, fervent eyes following each of your movements as you turned to confirm his vitals into the machine before turning back to face him once again. “I hate to disappoint, but I’m not actually into boxing.”

“You were front row at the match last night.” He rationalized, and his shoulders were slowly falling in disappointment. After a moment, he shook his head before continuing his pursuit. “Then let me take you to dinner at least.”

“Listen, I’m just not really—”

Your excuse was cut off when, after barely a moment of contemplation, Choso grabbed the chart from your hand and tossed it to the floor. A few owlish blinks were sent his way.   

“Your friend said you like assholes.” The man explained simply, but it was clearly eating him alive, evident in the way his determined eyes darted between you and the clipboard that had just got done clattering on the floor. A couple, painfully silent seconds passed before he kissed his teeth quietly, sliding off the bed to pick it back up for you anyway.

Fortunately for him, and unfortunately for your sanity, that little failed stunt worked on you, and Choso bounded out of the ER that afternoon with your contact in his phone. Still, you made it clear to him that you’d reach out to him when you were ready. He nodded along intently as you explained that you had only just gotten out of a relationship, and you didn’t exactly feel that you trusted your ability to pick a man right now. 

It didn’t matter to him though, because you had saved his number under Batman on your phone, and he had never been so proud of the silly persona his baby brother had assigned to him. So, he assured you not to worry, that there was no rush, and that he owed you a dinner whenever it was that you felt like having him.  Sure, the next few days may have been spent glued to his phone in hopes that you’d get over your idiot of an ex-boyfriend sooner rather than later, but he could be patient, right?

It wasn’t until nearly a month later that he began to worry that perhaps you had only taken his number with the hopes that he’d leave you alone. Perhaps you were just letting him down easy. After all, he had shown up to your job after already having gotten a no from you. Choso had never been great with women​​— he’d never had the opportunity to, what with his taking over care for Yuji so early on into what were supposed to be his prime bachelor days. 

Up until now though, it didn’t matter that he hadn’t had the chance to grow out of his awkward, teenage boy cadence, he’d never thought much of it. Sure, he was a man, and he had needs too, but there were always more important things to worry about— like putting food on the table and keeping a roof over the head of his baby brother. His job certainly didn’t require him to be a smooth talker, or a talker at all for that matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t read the body language or social cues that women threw at him— not until it was you that he couldn’t get a read on. 

What he didn’t know was that you had spent the month waging war on yourself. The battle consisted of the you that wanted to remain in the familiar arms of men who your commitment fearing heart was sure to see no future with and the you that wondered if taking the hot, kind-eyed boxer’s offer of taking you to dinner and treating you like an adult human being was such a bad thing. 

The decision was proving to be more difficult than you could have ever anticipated, because it was as if your man-child of an ex-boyfriend could smell that you were contemplating doing better for yourself once, and he had been texting you for weeks now. There were apologies, paragraphs sent about how your constant arguments only meant that you two were passionate about one another— ones that had you rolling your eyes while simultaneously thinking that this was the safe option. 

You had come to a fork in the road though, as you stared down at his text asking if you’d meet him at the place you two met— some dingy arcade where you always had to hold your breath in because it seemed none of the men in attendance knew what soap or deodorant were. It was the same place where you remember finding it charming how heated he’d get over losing a game— it was quirky and hot and you couldn’t possibly see how that short-temper might pose a challenge to your relationship. 

Chewing on your bottom lip, your thumbs hovered over the cracked screen that had lain witness to just how un-charming that temper could get. Glancing up at your carefully placed makeup in the mirror, you realized that you had missed getting all done up— missed going out instead of sulking in your apartment and contemplating where your abysmal attachment style could have possibly manifested from. With a shake of your head, you decided that you had put far too much effort into yourself to end up in that cesspool of a joint by the end of the night. 

The cool wind nipped at your cheeks as you tried to borrow yourself deeper into the collar of your coat. You thought that perhaps you should have just waited in the car, but, then again, you weren’t exactly familiar with the protocol for proper dates. The dim lighting offered by the awning outside of the quietly buzzing restaurant cast a soft glow onto the wooden bench you were sitting on as you anxiously peered at the parking lot. 

Just as you were on the brink of losing a toe to hyperthermia, an older looking, black cat peeled into the parking lot, barely coming to a stop before the driver’s door was swinging open. Choso’s frantic gaze caught yours almost instantly, and he almost appeared relieved that you hadn’t left.

“I’m so sorry, I know I’m late.” He babbled, shutting his door firmly before glancing into the back of his car. “Look, I um… I understand if you’re not cool with this, but my babysitter canceled on me last minute.”

In the midst of his hesitant explanation, he was tugging the backseat open, offering you one last apprehensive glance before ducking his head in. When he emerged once again, it was with a pink-haired, bright-eyed toddler in his arms. You stood up as Choso walked your way, whispering something that, by the look of the softly stern expression on his face, looked to be a warning to behave to his little brother before setting him down.

“I’m really sorry about this. If you want to go I—”

“Aren’t you gonna introduce me to my date, Choso?” Your mockingly stern tone halted his mortified rambling. 

The boy, barely reaching his brother’s mid-thigh, was looking up at you with that fiercely curious expression that only a toddler assessing your danger level could pull off. His small, gloved hand was clutching onto Choso’s pointer and middle finger as the fake fur on his tiger beanie swayed with the gust of wind that whipped his way. 

It certainly wasn’t how you had expected to spend your night off, but something about that exasperated guilt in Choso’s tone made your heart clench. All these years you had spent worrying about which douchebag you’d be picking yourself back up over, and this man, who couldn’t have been much older than you at all, had never had that stupid privilege. Such a miniscule act as not raising a fuss over his bringing his baby brother to dinner with him had him staring at you as though you’d hung the stars in the sky, and you suddenly decided that you had made the right decision that night. 

A small, delighted smile tugged at his lips, and he quickly looked down to nudge the boy forward.

“This is Yuji, and he promised he was going to be on his best behavior for our friend tonight, right?” Choso urged with a subtle desperation hidden in his eyes. Your heart nearly melted as he nodded ardently with a soft sneeze.

“Niichan never has girl friends—” 

“Okay, Yuji! Why don’t you show her how you open the door like a gentleman?” He eagerly cut off his brother’s innocent confession with a rapidly flushing face, scooping him up so that he could reach the handle. You offered a knowing, sidelong glance at the flustered man, unable to bite back your tickled smile as you nodded to Yuji in thanks as he held the door open for you with a prideful beam.

Choso had just about jumped out of his skin when your name randomly popped onto his phone. He must have re-read your text twenty times to assure he was understanding correctly, because the girl who had been radio silent for nearly a month was asking if tonight was a good night for her to cash in on the dinner he owed her. 

Truthfully, it wasn’t a good night. He had been expecting to stay home with Yuji tonight given he didn’t have a match, and his brother didn’t have school the next morning. Because of that, he really didn’t have anyone lined up to babysit tonight. He frantically called his usual babysitter, practically begging her to come on such short notice, and he nearly did a backflip when she agreed. 

Yuji was following him around the house with that lighthearted laugh, the kind that made Choso think that maybe he wasn’t doing such a bad job at taking care of him after all, asking him why he was practically bouncing around the house as he rushed to shower and dug recklessly through his closet for something decent to wear. 

It had all come crashing down on him just ten minutes before he was supposed to leave, already having explained to his little brother that his babysitter would be coming tonight, when the woman in question called to let him know that her shift at her full-time job had gone over schedule. He sat hunched over his phone on the couch for what seemed like eternity as he contemplated what to do.

It had taken you an entire month to finally agree to a date with him. Would you change your mind if he canceled on you with such short notice? Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he noted that he was already going to be late, and the thought of leaving you waiting for him at the restaurant had him making the executive decision to bundle his little brother up in his winter clothes and pack him in the car with him. 

Halfway to the restaurant was when it hit him that perhaps this wasn’t the best idea, but it was too late now. He wasn’t sure anything could have prepared him for how quickly you’d let it slide off your shoulders, and certainly not for how easily you’d work Yuji into what was meant to be a date with just you two. 

Here he was though, lips parted stupidly as he watched you allow the boy to steal bites off of your plate (despite how many times he’d already swatted his hand away in mortification) and follow along with all the longwinded stories that toddlers were so good at telling with no real conclusion in sight. It seemed impossible for him to have found you anymore beautiful than he already did, but you were proving him wrong with every affectionate smile sent his way each time Yuji would innocently reveal another humiliating detail about his older brother to you.

“If I had known he was going to woo you so hard I would have left him in the car.” Choso joked with a timid smile, already having had his fill of embarrassment for one night following Yuji’s announcement that he cried everytime he watched Brother Bear with him.

You thought having the five-year-old around helped lessen what typically would have been a painfully awkward first date. Additionally, the seemingly tight-knit relationship they had made you wonder how Choso had found himself with such a responsibility so young in the first place. Of course, with Yuji around, it was hard to veer onto the topic. 

“And how else would I have found out so much about the big, bad Choso Kamo?” You teased as Yuji busied himself with a coloring page the waitress had brought over (much to his brother’s relief). “Brother Bear, huh? Can’t blame you, that one used to get me too.”

“I don’t cry everytime.” 

“Mhmm,” With an unconvinced hum, you peered up at him through the rim of your cup as you took a sip. “So, what turned you into a bear then, hm?”

The fond smile on his face slowly dissipated, leading you to believe that what you thought was a harmlessly joking question held more depth than you gave it credit for. Soon, your smile was quickly falling too as you sat up a little straighter.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay.” He reassured, attempting to bring that same lighthearted nature back around, but his eyes were heavier as he regarded you kindly. “I just… had to be.”

It was the only explanation he offered you, and somehow it was enough for you to understand the gravity of whatever their situation must have been— at least for now.

“So,” Your gaze fluttered about his chiseled face as you tried to rectify the now solemn energy at the table. Glancing toward Yuji, you noted that he was still concentrated on his coloring, a crayon clutched in one hand and a fry in the other. Still, you lowered your voice a bit as you leaned in closer to Choso. “How did your rematch go?”

“Thought you said you weren’t into it.” 

“Didn’t say I wasn’t into you.”

This caught him off guard, whatever fleeting confidence he had to banter back and forth with you flying out the window just as your own words processed back to you. For a fleeting moment, you almost allowed yourself to be embarrassed by your own forwardness. Something about how easily he could be rendered speechless made it worth it though. After a moment, his lips twitched up nervously as he tried to reign in control of the conversation once again. 

“Thought you liked assholes.” Choso whispered, praying his little brother wasn’t going to absorb that word into his subconscious to spring on him later. 

Pursing your lips, you looked down at the cracked phone screen that had pulled you out of your stupor just hours prior. The man followed your eyes, taking note of the way you ran your finger absentmindedly down the shattered glass. You didn’t say anything, but he seemed to have heard it all, his face falling in quiet recognition. He had seen it before— that look of silent defeat in your eyes fighting against a cycle all too familiar to him.

“The rematch was good.” He offered with a soft, knowing smile, hoping to pull you from wherever your thoughts had wandered to. You peered back up at him. “Kicked his ass. I can be an asshole too— just… not to you, yeah?”

Choso couldn’t have known how deep his words burrowed themselves into your mind, replaying on repeat that entire drive home as your heart pounded against your chest. He had walked you to your car after dinner, Yuji clinging onto his back as he drifted off into what looked to be a nasty food coma. The look on his face said that he wasn’t sure what to do next, but you could certainly guess what was on his mind. 

So, you were grateful when his little brother stirred away and tugged at his hair, pouting about it being too cold and wanting to go home. The man’s shoulder’s deflated ever-so-slightly, and he offered an apologetic smile and a promise that he’d text you.

You weren’t sure whether to be relieved or disappointed. 

Choso Kamo scared you unlike any other raging hot-head had ever managed to in the past. At least with your past… distasteful selections, you could predict their moves, you knew it would only go so far. With him though, you could feel yourself wanting more, because he was sweet and genuine, and he was the type of guy that would make a nest in your heart so as not to disturb your peace rather than shatter it with an attempt to mold it to accommodate the jagged edges he refused to file down.

Without the expected downfalls of the disasters you set yourself up for, how could you prepare yourself if he disappointed you in a way you hadn’t already premeditated? Other men filtered in and out of your life, never leaving an impact heavier than a break of routine in their wake— but Choso? If you allowed him to stay, you knew it would ache in ways you’d never known if Choso left. 

Despite your fear of falling, you couldn’t bring yourself to ignore him when he texted you later that night asking if you'd made it home, or even the next morning when he wished you a good shift. With each affectionate-smiled reply, you could feel your stomach twisting in fear as you hoped you’d snap out of this haze before the shoe dropped. 

It was the very reason that you hesitated when your phone rang just two days later, his name lighting up your phone at an hour far too late at night to be considered friendly. Blinking back the tired haze in your eyes from staring at your television for too long, you felt that familiar anxiety swimming in your throat. Your thumb trembled nervously as it hovered over the button to accept the call. Shaking off your nerves, you swiped to answer the call. 

“Hey, Cho—”

“Hello?” His voice was panicked on the other line, making you sit up from where you had been vegetating on your couch. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I know it’s late— I need your help.”

Muffled in the background, you could hear the distinct wailing of a child you assumed to be his little brother. The sound made you kick the blanket off your lap, already breaking out into a nervous cold-sweat. 

“What’s going on?”

“It’s Yuji— he’s sick, and his fever won’t go down, and he’s not keeping down any of his medicine, and—”

“Okay, calm down.” You cut off his nervous rambling as you shoved your boots on under your fleece pajama pants. “How high is his fever? You should take him to urgent care.”

“I’m trying, h-he has a thing with hospitals.” The man sounded as though he was on the brink of tears, panting subtly in a manner that had you wondering how long he had been wrestling with the boy in order to get him to an urgent care before he gave up and called you. “Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Choso could barely hear your knocking over his brother’s incessant crying, and had he been more alert of his surroundings he would have wondered how in the hell his neighbors hadn’t sent in a noise complaint yet. After nearly a minute with no response, you knocked again, more forcefully this time. 

When he finally opened the door, you would have assumed that he was the one battling a flu— what with his flushed face, disheveled locks, and red waterline. Having to endure his brother’s suffering alone was killing him, and he’d never felt more useless than he did tonight. 

“Choso…” You sighed regretfully, nearly reaching up to pull him into a hug, but he was quickly latching onto your wrist to pull you into the living room where Yuji was bundled up on the couch, his little face flaming with a mix of the exertion from his pained wails and the fever that was still ravaging his system. 

Kneeling down beside the couch, you touched your hand against his forehead. Even with the frigidness that still nipped at your hands from the chill outside, it was clear that he was practically scorching.

“He’s burning up, Choso.” You muttered frantically, making quick work to pull the countless blankets off of him. He was kicking out in protest with each layer you removed, and his brother was quickly moving to push his legs down lest you get kicked in the face. “You need to cool him down.”

“He— he kept shivering…” The man was gulping down tears of frustration, because all he was trying to do was to get him to stop crying. It was breaking his heart with each octave he reached, and he was sure that he’d find a way to make the sun rise early if it meant he could have stopped whatever it was that was making Yuji so uncomfortable. 

“It’s okay,” You reassured, taking note of the fragile emotional state this situation had put him in. It was becoming clearer by the minute that Choso was new to doing this on his own. “We need to put him in a cold bath.”

The man nodded in a haze, reaching down to scoop the flailing boy into his arms as he cried out in protest. You followed closely behind him as he made his way to the bathroom and flipped the light on. 

“I’m cold!” Yuji choked out, only making his brother feel that much more guilty as he pried his clothes off of him. You stepped around him to fill the tub with cool water. 

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Choso mumbled despondently, dodging each of his kicks with stunning precision. “We’re trying to help you, buddy, okay?”

“What have you given him?” You questioned, finally shedding your puffer jacket you began to sweat with the frantic movements. 

“Nothing, he’s spitting everything out.” Choso’s voice raised in exasperation, though you knew better than to think it was directed at you. 

You paced out the restroom as he lowered Yuji into the frigid water, and you thought surely his throat would start to bleed soon from the way his screams were scratching it raw. It didn’t take long for you to find the medicine cabinet after rummaging through the kitchen, and you made quick work to toss a fever reducer into a plastic bag to begin crushing it. Peeking your head into the refrigerator, you grabbed the carton of apple juice that was sitting on the shelf. Once your child-proof cocktail was thoroughly mixed, you made your way back down the hall.

“Please, Yuji, just sit still.” You heard Choso pleading desperately, followed by the frantic splashes of the attempted escapee. 

“Let me go!”

“It’ll make you feel better—”

“I want Mom!” 

You paused in the doorway at Yuji’s sobbed request, unsure whether or not to intrude. Clutching the cup to your constricting chest, you leaned against the wall just beside the bathroom door as you heard Choso sigh despairingly.

“Mom’s not here, Yuji. We’ve talked about this, please. Don’t do this to me.” His tone wavered notably, and it was clear that the dam holding up the strongest parts of him was weakening by the second, but his younger brother only repeated his request. 

“Yuji,” You called out, finally stepping in to kneel beside Choso. He quickly cast his gaze down, but not before you caught the tears slipping down his face. Brushing back the pink hair that clung to the boy’s forehead as he panted up at you through choked cries, you showed him the cup. “Look, if you drink all your juice then we’ll get your bed nice and ready for you, okay?” 

He sniffled messily as his blubbering slowed, eyeing you skeptically. 

“It’s apple juice, see?” You tilted the cup closer toward him so he could see the familiar yellow color. Noting his apprehension, you leaned in closer to whisper to him in feigned secrecy. “Niichan can’t protect the city if you don’t get better.”

Through dewy hiccups, he slowly released the grip his little hands had on Choso’s wrists to take the cup from you. Beside you, his brother heaved out a sigh of relief watching as he quickly downed the cup, eager to get into his bed and under the covers as promised. The both of you held your breaths until the last drop was sucked up. 

After running a few more handfuls of cold water over his head for good measure, you nodded at Choso to take him out once his skin was finally a bit cooler to the touch. As he dried and dressed his brother back up to prepare him for bed, you busied yourself with cleaning up the puddles of water Yuji’s thrashing had created on the floor of the bathroom. A good couple of minutes had passed before apprehensive footsteps finally made their way back to the bathroom where you remained kneeled on the floor. 

“I’m sorry.” Choso whispered, slowly lowering himself down beside you. 

You peered over at him as he buried his head into his hands. The t-shirt he wore was clinging to his chest as it still dripped with leftover bath water along with the ends of his loose, tousled hair. His shoulders shook every so often with the sniffles he was trying so desperately to conceal, but it had all been too much for him. 

“I know the last thing you wanted to be doing on your day off was working.” He continued as he finally looked up at you, tears of frustration swimming in his dark, tired eyes. “I just— I didn’t know—”

“Choso?” You whispered, resting a careful hand on his raised knee. He blinked at you in question, swiping furiously at the tear that raced down his flushed cheek at the motion. “How… how did you end up with Yuji?”

His eyes quickly fell, observing the way his knuckles whitened as he clenched and unclenched his hands pensively. 

“He’s my half-brother.” He began quietly. A bitter smile tugged at his lips as he looked back up at you. “Wanna talk assholes? My step-dad— Yuji’s dad— was just…”

You gulped, watching the way his jaw seemed to clench unconsciously at the memory of him. A gradual sense of dread twisted in your stomach as you began to guess where his story would go. 

“We fought all the time. Our mom hated it, but I couldn’t stand the way he treated her, and it—” Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the ceiling to calm the way his tears seemed to continue to betray him. “It killed me that she let him.”

Your gaze fluttered with their own misty haze as his words sunk in, an unnecessary guilt clawing at your chest. Shuddering away the tremble in his tone, he finally looked back down at you. Swiping at his nose with a quick sniffle, he continued. 

“We got into a huge fight a while after I finished school. He was mad about— god, I can’t even remember what had him so heated, but h-he threw a bottle at our mom.”

“Choso…” You sighed shakily, shifting forward to grasp at his hand. Though he made no attempt to halt his story, he accepted your hand, fiddling with your fingers absentmindedly as another tear raced down his face. 

“I told him that if he wanted to throw shit to throw it at me.” With red-splotched eyes, he offered a humorless laugh and gestured toward the jagged scar that ran across his face. It was now you who was failing to hold back stinging tears. “I thought after— I don’t know, twenty stitches that she’d leave, but she didn’t. So, I did.”

His head dropped down toward his chest, shaking side to side regretfully. 

“I left. I wasn’t there for her when she died— I wasn’t there for Yuji.” You quickly climbed over to wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling his face into your chest as you allowed yourself to cry silently along with him. “I left him. He was only three. I left him, I—”

“You came back for him, Choso.” You quickly interjected. 

“I should’ve never left in the first place.” His fingers drifted up to dig into your back as you settled onto his lap. “I thought if I learned how to fight— y’know, got bigger and stronger that he couldn’t hurt me anymore, he couldn’t hurt my mom anymore cause I would finally be able to do something about it, but I was just scared. I was scared, and I left.”

“You were just a kid.” You clarified, sliding your hands down to grip his face and force him to look at you. “And you’re here now.”

The grip you had on his cheeks forced his lips into a smushed pout, his wet lashes emphasizing the dark circles that surrounded his irises. Your thumb grazed gently over the scar on his face, and it broke your heart even more as you pictured it on a smaller, more defenseless version of him. You could see that Choso still ever-present in the fear that lingered in his eyes, in the doubt that clung to his frown that told him that nothing he could do for Yuji would ever be enough. 

“And I’d like to see someone try to lay a finger on Yuji now.” You encouraged with a soft laugh. The tiniest of smiles cracked through his solemn gaze, but he was still searching your eyes with an intensity that nearly knocked you on your ass. 

“Why do you do it?” He questioned, his voice barely above a whisper. You tilted your head at him curiously. “I mean, you have a good job, you’re smart, and pretty, and you’re kind— why give it to people who don’t deserve you?”

His hands dug firmly into your waist as you attempted to lean away from his raw stare. You felt naked— humiliatingly exposed as though you had just been the one to air your dirty laundry out. The hands on your sides drew you in closer and closer with each pathetic open and close of your stammering lips.

“I think I came to terms a long time ago with the fact that I’d never get to understand why my mom stayed. I had to be okay with it.” Choso’s brows were furrowing as his gaze drifted down your face before meeting yours once again. “Then I met you, and… I feel that same frustration I felt when I was a teenager.” 

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” The scarred bridge of his nose grazed against yours as the two of you drew closer. With a strained gulp, you shook your head. “Do you—” He paused as his face flushed, but he fought to push past his timid nature. “Do you want someone to be mean to you? Is that what it is?”

“Choso—”

“Because if that’s the case then let it be me, okay?” His plea had you biting back a wanton whine, because his lips were brushing against yours with all the anticipation of a building promise. Your fingers tangled into the drying hair on his nape. “I’ll be rough with you, and I’ll make you want to cry.”

Leaning forward, he slotted his mouth around your pouted bottom lip, pressing you closer against him as you two pulled at one another despairingly. 

“I’ll be an asshole, but I’ll never hurt you— it’ll always be for you. Is that what you want?”

You could only nod hazily, too lost in the desperation in his tone and the craving he’d instilled in you for the lips you’d only come to know just minutes prior. Without so much as a grunt of effort, he was lifting himself off the ground with you in tow, stumbling toward the hallway in a craven pursuit of his bedroom. The hand holding you up against him squeezed vigorously at your ass, pinching at it until you yelped out into his lips.

“Shh, Yuji’s sleeping.” He still had the nerve to chastise you lowly, using your back to press the door shut. 

With you squeezed between him and the door behind you, he allowed his hand to dance up and grip your jaw, hooking his thumb into the corner of it as his forefinger dug into your bottom lip and pried your mouth ajar. You panted against him, eyes half-lidded as you awaited his next move with baited breath, but as he’d promised, it felt as though he wanted you to cry for him, his lips exploring your neck and jaw at an agonizing pace.

“Choso—” Your plea was cut short by your gasp as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder that had been left exposed in the flimsy tank you had been wearing to bed prior to his call. He moaned against your skin, digging his canines ever-so-slightly deeper into the flesh to feel the way you jolted at the sting. “Ah— ahh!”

The man only hummed contentedly, arm hooking under your thighs once again to pry you from the wall and drop you onto the disheveled covers of his bed and pull the damp shirt from his back. He surveyed the way your eyes ran down his body, your reddened lips parted and your brows drawn softly together, and he deduced that he couldn’t possibly look at you if he was to ravage you like he hated you. 

Dipping down, he flipped you easily onto your stomach, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants. Pausing for a moment, he leaned down, and you shuddered at the feeling of his warm chest pressing you against the bed.

“Is this what you wanted?” He whispered into your ear, knowing it would only take a shake of your head for his resolve to crumble. 

Your ribcage expanded and deflated beneath him in tandem with your anticipatory panting, and you could only nod through your flushed face, too embarrassed to confirm your desires aloud, yet your senses too lit ablaze by every inch of muscle you could feel on him to deny yourself the pleasure. There was a longing kiss pressed against your temple— an unspoken promise that he meant it when he said he wouldn’t hurt you— before he slowly pulled away from you to yank your bottoms down. 

Choso bit down on his bottom lip, rough enough to draw blood as he fought to maintain his composure. Running his hands up your thighs until they met the swell of your ass, he raised a knee to rest beside your hip before hiking your ass up. 

“Make me understand it.” He pleaded, a subtle growl laced into his tone as he drew teasingly close to where you were throbbing for him. 

“I don’t know, Choso—” Your voice had raised to an embarrassing pitch as you fisted his sheets between your fingers. They smelled just like him, and it was by no means aiding in your coherent thought process.

“Do you need someone to tell you you’re worth more?” At once, his fingers plunged into your incandescent center, twisting mercilessly as he continued to ration with you. “Because I’ll do it, I’ll remind you every fucking day if I have to.”

But his words were quickly becoming background noise that harmonized sweetly with each of your slack-jawed moans. Reaching back, your fingers barely grazed his wrist in an attempt to gain any semblance of control over his pace, but he quickly collected both your hands in his free one to pin them at the small of your back.

“Is that what you need?” He asked again, and his fingers curled up with a striking precision, drawing a pathetically pitched squeak from the depths of your throat. 

You buried your face into the sheets to conceal the way your eyes began to water at the growing warmth pooling overwhelmingly fast in your stomach. After a moment of your whimpering silence, his fingers abandoned you in favor of a resounding smack against your sensitive core. Your legs seemed to snap shut involuntarily, but it didn’t last long before he pried them open once again. 

“Answer me.” Choso demanded. His tone was barely stern— the fervent desperation to understand more present than anything. He threaded his fingers into your hair to pull your head to the side and reveal your face. “I said is this what you needed?”

“Yes!” You gasped, your hearing feeling as though it had increased tenfold as you listened to his sweatpants rusting while they hit the ground. “Please, please, Choso.” 

Despite his insistence that he’d be rough with you as you so pleased, he couldn’t bring himself to stop the gentle way in which he eased into you, savoring each hitch in your breath. Hooking his arm under your neck, he pulled you up to press flush against his perspiring chest, the slow descent up aiding in burying the last few inches of him into you. 

There was a crack in his resolve, evident in the broken moan that his lips pressed right against your flushed ear. The tears that he had promised you finally slipped down your cheeks. His eyes tracked it with a sharp vigilance, the sight making him pull you in that much closer. With a hand gentler than what he had planned for you, he swiped at the salty stream before allowing his fingers to settle around the column of your throat. 

“Keep crying for me.” 

And he made sure you did, his pace relentless as his sculpted hips slapped against your ass. For each overwhelmed tear of pleasure that escaped you, Choso chased it with a kiss; to your cheek and your jaw, to your helplessly parted lips and temple until there wasn’t an inch of you within his reach that his lips hadn’t become acquainted with. You thought your back would snap in two as you arched against him through your high, yet his furious pace didn’t slow until you slumped back against him, only held up by the hand at your throat and his will. 

The man watched as your head fell back onto his shoulders, eyes half-lidded as they stared at the way his gaze never seemed to falter. Only then did he pause, carefully lowering you to lay on your back against his cool pillows. Crawling over you, it was clear that his intent had shifted with the fulfillment of his goal. 

His hair tickled your cheeks as he leaned down to capture your lips tenderly. Reaching down, he caressed the side of your neck with the same hand he had used to restrain it as he entered you once again, this time with the intent of proving that it didn’t always have to be so merciless. With each purposeful roll of his hips into you he proved that you too were worthy of being handled with all the gentleness he had never been on the receiving end of. 

Choso clung onto you as he finished, and he didn’t leave when you allowed yourself to wrap your arms under his shoulders and press your cheek against his heaving chest. Instead, he pulled the covers up and assured they reached your shoulders that had since broken out into goosebumps— though you weren’t sure you could blame them on the cold. 

He brought your hands up to kiss the parts of your wrists that had been locked in his fierce grip. For the first time in years you weren’t itching to leave before he had the chance to leave you, because all the weight and muscle he’d worked so hard for in order to protect that scared, teenage boy in him were enveloping you with a crushing safety while his faint snores into your ear lulled you to sleep. 

Perhaps Yuji wasn’t so naive in believing his big brother was a superhero.

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[uglypastels]

Halo of the Highest Grade / Logan Howlett x Reader

People tried to warn you about him, but you loved the risk and danger of it all. They prayed for you, but God already knew exactly the type of men you’ve had your spare share of fun with. And the Wolverine was exactly what you had been looking for all this time.

word count: 5.5.k

warnings: SMUT. 18+ Only. MDNI. afab!reader. p in v. no protection [wrap it before you tap it, folks]. cunnilingus. sadomasochistic tendencies: spanking. choking. biting. scratching. hair pulling. face slapping. mutual degradation. makeshift restrain. violence: cage fighting. blood. alcohol. smoking. cursing. not proofread.

gif from banner sourced online but couldn't find the op, all credits to them.

Shoutout to @deceptive-daydreams for helping me come up with all of this.

Masterlist - Requests are Open

They shake their heads

Saying, "God help her" when I

Tell 'em he's my man.

But your good Lord doesn't need to

Lift a finger, I can fix him

No, really, I can.

The shouts and vulgarities of the drunken crowd could be heard from outside the building. Inside, smoke and alcohol overwhelmed the senses whilst the lights shined through the slits in the high ceiling, practically guiding you towards the silver-lit halo that was the cage at the centre of the room. As if in a trance, each element was calling for you to move closer, so closer you came.

The bell indicating the end of the fight rang but was barely heard through the commotion of the spectators. Two men dragged the barely conscious body of the defeated, his red shirt camouflaging his spilt blood.

‘Hey pretty—’

‘Fuck off.’ You hissed at the pitiful man who had appeared by your side, not even sparing him a glance when you walked off, leaving him behind, stunned and confused. Maybe he tried to call after you or spit some expletives your way, but you were too focused on what was happening inside the cage to notice.  

‘Gentlemen.’ The host called for the next challenger. ‘In all my years, I’ve never seen anything like it. Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?’ With an antagonising finger, he pointed to the individual you had already been unable to look away from. His back glistened with sweat from the hot lights above his head. Each calm breath accentuated his shoulder blades. He barely reacted to the scream from the crowd as yet another loser came forward. While the other man approached the stage, you watched the champion take a long drag from his cigar, the smoke billowing around him in long ribbons.

‘Our Savior!’ the host exclaimed, and he exchanged some words of grace with the new fighter. Meanwhile, you kept a watchful eye on the other as he drained his glass of his last drops of golden spirit. With each second until the starting bell ticking by, you found yourself wishing him to turn around and face his opponent. But the bell came and went, and he didn’t move. 

The “savior” lunged forward with a kick, pushing your object of interest into the metal wiring. It clattered at impact, and so his grunt was barely audible. Bend over, a dog tag hanging from his neck; he didn’t even attempt to block the punches thrown his way. Unable to look away from fascination, you winced at each hit. In everyone else’s eyes, it was a lost fight. One too many, he should have quit while he was ahead. Surely, he couldn’t take it anymore. But something in you saw the moments ahead. How he got up, fists and teeth clenched. 

It was over before you could even blink. 

Three punches were all it took. All punctuated with a dull metal sound no one could place but claimed to be the barriers of the fighting stage as the “savior” unconsciously fell to the floor.

‘Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight’s winner and still king of the Cage–’ the crowd booed to the harmony of the bell calling the Knock Out, and you quickly sought your escape from the eye of the storm before it formed. From the sound of it, things were gonna get ugly very quickly, and that ain’t the show you had come for. 

‘The Wolverine!’ The announcer finished, and you made sure to remember that little nickname as you walked off. 

With the majority of the crowd leaving, their losses very much at the forefront of their minds, you settled down at the bar. 

‘Give me two of whatever he was having back there.’ You told the barman, cocking your head back to the Cage, and turned on the stool to face the room, a plan already forming in your head. You heard behind you how the man poured the drinks and placed one next to the other at your side. 

‘You don’t wanna do this.’ The man chuckled through his warning, fully aware of your intentions. So, subtlety had never exactly been your strong suit, but in this case, you felt it would probably be a great advantage.

‘Now, what makes you say that?’ You reached for the nearest glass and took a gentle sip. The alcohol practically seared your throat as it went down. ‘He’s just like any other man, no?’

‘Lady, that ain’t no man.’, the older man said in a hushed tone, scared as he would be heard by the wrong people, despite of the chaos around you. ‘That’s a monster.’

Those words only sparked more interest inside you. A flash of ruffled dark hair caught your attention between the crowd, and like a shock had gone through your spine, you sat up straight. 

Realising he was fighting a lost beetle, the barman simply sighed. ‘May God help you.’ 

Oh, God knew exactly the type of men you’ve had your spare share of fun with before. Leading the kind of life you had it was the only way to still make things a little bit interesting. And he, the Wolverine, was precisely what you were looking for. 

His steps were heavy on the floorboards. The crowd, while still angry, parted like the Red Sea at his proximity, looking away as if scared to be petrified if they got caught catching a glimpse of him. But you didn’t even try and hide your stare as he walked up to the bar. A fact that did not go unnoticed. And neither did the manner in which his eyes glazed over your body, moving up and down across your frame, hovering in particular over a few places.

Although plenty of seats were vacant, he sat down at your immediate right. His mouth had already slipped open with the request for a drink, but you were quicker with your generous gesture.

He looked at it with a mix of surprise and amusement, but didn’t say a word. The liquor disappeared with one heavy swig, and the glass clashed with the counter. Without needing to hear anything, the helpful bartender brought out the bottle and poured him another.

‘Can I help you?’ The Wolverine muttered, looking at you from the corner of his eye when you had not stopped looking him over since he had sat down. 

Isn’t he a charmer, you thought, but you also could not deny that his attitude and harsh tone were doing things to you. 

‘Just wanted to congratulate you on the fight.’ As subtle as anything else you had done that night, you came closer, leaning towards him. You caught the glance he gave you as you moved, specifically how his eyes once more lingered on your breast. God, how you loved the ones that just didn’t give a shit. Those who were just as blunt as you were in these matters. It made things so much easier.

‘It wasn’t much of a fight.’ He replied, unphased by anything that happened that night.

‘I suppose you’re right.’ You shrugged, twirling the drink in your hand, ‘though I did think you were kind of soft on that last guy. Why let him get you like that?’ Your mind flashed to the fight, to the grunts he had made as his opponent’s fist met his stomach. ‘Surely, you could have knocked him out cold as soon as he stepped into the ring.’

‘Where’s the fun in that?’ With those words, he finally turned to you, and for the first time that night, your eyes met, and that’s when you saw it. That glint in his eye that told you everything you needed to know about him. How he didn’t get in that ring because he needed to. Maybe the money was a bonus, but that is all it was. He got in there because he wanted to. He let those other guys get in a punch or two before knocking the shit and wind out of them. 

He enjoyed it.

The next remarkable thing about his face, aside from the apparent perfect angles of his features, was how truly perfect it was. For someone so eager to brawl, there were no indications of his hobby. No bruises, scars, and even long-term, his nose looked perfectly straight, as did his jaw, never broken or battered. 

He just kept getting more fascinating by the second.

‘So you’re one of those thrill junkies, huh?’ you asked ordinarily, certainly not as if you had just lost yourself while looking at his face.

‘Sure, if you wanna call it that.’ He scoffed. He was holding back; that much was clear. The constant glances he threw your way were more than enough of a tell. He took another sip of his drink. Fuck it, now was a better chance than never. You let your leg slowly climb up and down his calf, gently pressing into him. Something in his posture stiffened, his jaw tensed up at your touch, and you revelled in it.

‘I can imagine it’s quite a rush, getting out there, getting the adrenaline pumping all through you.’ Your voice danced around him, only clear mischief at its core. ‘Makes you wonder…’ You leaned in so close you could nearly whisper the word directly in his ear. ‘If there is anything else that would have that effect on a man.’

‘Don’t start playing games you can’t finish, bub,’ he pushed out.

‘Oh, I’m planning on finishing.’ You smiled sweetly. ‘Don’t you worry ‘bout me, big boy.’

‘Is that right?’ He leaned in to fill the gap you could not match from your position. You had caught his full attention, his empty glass forgotten on the countertop bar.

Though he faught with a bare chest, he had layered up since and now wore a wifebeater tanktop, covered mainly by a blue button-up and a dark brown leather jacket. As he looked at you, he saw a little black dress that fits you like a glove and just called for attention, and that matched with some knee-high boots and your hair all done up just like the boys like it. You had the intention of getting out of this shithole with someone, and you had set your target. Now, you were so close to catching him, too. 

‘Mmm,’ you took the final sip of your drink. ‘So what’you say we get out of here?’

He chuckled at your suggestion, turning back to look at his hands. You noticed how even his knuckles did not have a shadow of a blush on them. ‘You sure you wanna do this, honey?’

‘I know what I’m doing, honey.’ You got up from your stool, placing your hand on his thigh. He immediately tensed up, but only momentarily, as he relaxed once your slowed down the graze of your nails against the inner seam of his jeans. ‘C’mon, let’s have some fun.’ 

Your hand moved across him to reach for his, and the simple touch was enough for you to know you had won. At least this round. As soon as your fingers touched, his entire body gave in. Not that he would have admitted it, nor was it that obvious at first glance. You, however, picked up on those things. How he leaned into your touch and practically let you walk him out of the bar. But you didn’t have to do or say anything for him to place his other hand over your hip, let it fall comfortably over your ass. 

As soon as your body was greeted with the cool winter air, you spun around, pressing yourself against him until his back hit the brick wall. From then on, everything turned to instincts. Like the bartender knew to refill his glass without a word or glance, this man knew how to kiss you. His hands found their positions on you, keeping you steady as his lips explored yours. You could feel the scruff of his beard, the taste of it all: the alcohol, the cigar. None of it should have had any appeal to you, but mixed with his touch, it simply made you melt away. The kiss kept going until your lungs ran out of breath, and even then, you leeched onto him until you couldn’t any longer, not-so-gently pulling his bottom lip between your teeth as you pulled apart.

‘Got a name, gorgeous?’ He asked, almost innocently, lip pink and plump, though mostly exhilarated through your actions, and so you told him, to which he replied: ‘Logan.’ He kissed you once more, deeper, harsher, before continuing his introduction. ‘Just so you know, I’m not one to hold back.’

‘What, like you did with that guy back there?’ You teased, letting your fingers brush through his hair.

‘That was just a warm-up.’ Was it meant as a threat? A warning? Whatever it was, it made your knees weak. ‘So don’t get scared if I get a bit wild.’

‘Trust me, I can handle me a dangerous man.’ You moved your hand down, brushing over the side of his face, down his collarbone to trace the silver chain that peaked from underneath his shirt.

‘Just be careful what you wish for.’ He nearly growled before pressing his lips back onto yours.

⦻

You had rented a motel room nearly across the street from The Cage bar and though fairly short, your journey back had turned into one big blur. All you remembered was Logan nearly throwing you into his car, a somewhat sluggish and overrun pick-up with an even older caravan attachment, and pulling you out with as much force. He had practically carried you up to your room, and if it wasn’t for the sake of the other motel visitants, you had a feeling he would have taken you right there and then, up against the green door with a steel 28 hammered into it.

But ever the gentleman, he pulled himself back, only slightly hurdling your attempts at unlocking the door as he let his hands roam all over your body. You threw your head back into the crook of his neck, your hand returning to its place in his messy hair. At the feeling of his lips on you, peppered kisses on the side of your neck, you couldn’t help but tug at his roots. Unintentional, but in hindsight, a revolutionary advance as Logan’s moan heated up your skin, and the thrust of his hips could only be described as untamed.

There really was a monster inside of him. And for one, you couldn’t wait until it got out.

The key finally clicked in its lock, and Logan was the one to push the door open. You spun on the tips of your toes to face him, unable to hide the playful grin on your face. He leaned in for a kiss, but you quickly avoided it with a step back. He stepped forward, kicking the door shut behind him. Just like that, the room fell into darkness, with the exception of the neon sign peaking through the curtains, illuminating your surroundings in glowing streaks of blue.

With a gentleness you had not shown before, you reached for a kiss. A feathery touch that left Logan needing more, the yearning visible in how his body followed you once you let go. And you let him. In fact, as you made your way to the bed, you hooked one finger through one of his belt loops, pulling him along with you. You took small steps backwards until your shins hit the edge of the bed and sat down with a squeak of the mattress springs. Standing in front of you, Logan towered over you. 

A perfectly placed streak of light hit him, showing you just how dark his eyes had turned with need. How his chest was rising heavily as he shook his jacket off, throwing it aside. You watched it pile under the button-up he threw along with it, followed by your coat. Once you looked back at him, the sight of his bare arms had your mind wandering off into the most dark and corrupt places. No thoughts, just pure need pushed your legs open, so far the most inviting of places to Logan.

He wasted no time falling to his knees. You pulled him by the hair for another kiss. Everything got messier by the moment, hungrier, filthier. His hands settled on your thighs, spreading your legs further, then pulling one of them up over his shoulder, giving him space to do whatever he wanted with you. Admittedly, you could have kept kissing him forever, but when his lips attached themselves to your inner thigh, you let yourself fall back on the bed in bliss.

Logan moved closer with each peck. Closer and closer until he reached your panties—the arousal evident from the moment you had revealed yourself to him. You didn’t think the two of you could get any closer until, with a harsh tug, he pulled you up against his face, the bridge of his nose tracing over the soaked material. A shaky moan escaped past your lips, and the hold you kept on his hair tightened. Putting the underwear on started to feel like your biggest regret that day as Logan got comfortable placing sloppy kisses over them, sending shock after shock of elation through your core. 

Your back arched at the sensation of his cold hand on your hot skin, climbing up to the spot where your bodies connected. Still, through that damned lace, he pushed a finger over your slit. The pleasure slowly began to form into agony as you couldn’t take it much longer. But perhaps neither could he, as not long after he had started those teasing strokes, he grabbed at your panties and, with a pull, ripped them to shreds. The sound of the material ripping was harsh and startling but not half as much as the feeling of his hot breath against your pussy, or his tongue finally pressing against it. 

‘Fuck,’ you cursed, to which he responded with a muffled moan, of which the vibrations only added to your pleasure. Logan was undeniably in his element at your feet. The intensity of his movements was proof enough that he enjoyed every single moment of it. The taste of your juices was like ambrosia, and he couldn’t get enough. 

Your hips bucked up in a moment of his more expressive movements. The broken record in your mouth was stuck on a mix of profanities and his name. You couldn’t stop thinking about the feeling of his fingers on you, how you wished he would have done more than just tease you, but it wasn’t needed for you to feel the tight twist in your stomach. Your whole body began to tense, including your thighs. It took the sound of Logan’s deep groans for you to realise that, in your desperate state, you had started to squeeze your thighs together, practically locking his head in between. 

But, unlike your first thought that had made you want to pull away, his groans had not been worrisome. It was full-on pleasure that he was displaying. To set aside any of your doubt in the case, he held on to your leg, keeping it exactly where it was, and when he glanced up, your eyes met that same exact spark you had seen in the bar. That same hunger and insanity of a man in despair. 

Immediately, an idea bubbled in your mind. How you had still been able to form any coherent thought was a mystery, and even more, how you had managed to execute it. It was most likely not possible without his help, as you were sure if he was steadfast in his current position, there would be no way of you getting him to move a slight inch, but with a swift manoeuvre, you pulled yourself off the bed, and flipped yourself, as well as Logan, for you to position yourself on top of his lips.

‘You readin’ my mind now, princess?’ the nickname alone brought back the tightness in your stomach, accentuated by the nick of his teeth against your inner thigh after his remark. There was a moment of slightly awkward shuffling as he pushed himself and you up onto the centre of the bed, but once set, there was no going back. 

Instincts took over once more as his tongue moved over your folds. For that extra friction, you began to move in tandem over his features, grinding into him in a heat of need. Now, you had been with a number of guys, each freakier than the other, but none of them had ever let you ride their face like a fuck pillow. He would have been obsolete if not for the fact that he was getting off on sucking your clit.

‘So fucking desperate,’ you moaned between thrusts, and since his mouth was a bit preoccupied, Logan’s response came in the form of his hand firmly smacking across your ass. The lingering sting burnt through the rest of you just long enough for you to start missing it and that’s when he struck the sensitive skin again. Your moans turned higher in pitch with each time he did, and the actions of his tongue got more ferocious. Without saying a word, the message was clear: who’s the desperate one now?

And the answer was very simple. You both were. That’s the only reason you had walked into that room together to begin with. Both of you had urges that had gone unkept for too long. Urges where just sex wasn’t enough. There was always something missing. Until now.

All this time he had made sure you stayed right on top of him. Long and tight enough to make you wonder if he had actually had a death wish and was planning to go out in style. But evertime you looked at him, he seemed to almost be at peace, completely focused in the delicious task at hand. When he did finally pull you up from his lips, it was only to introduce the last puzzle piece into the game. 

The curses rolled of your tongue as he pushed his fingers into you. Long and thick, already stretching you out. He left kisses up on your clit, sloppy and wet just to keep toying with the nerves. You could feel the callouses on his thumb as he traced and pressed over it. 

His other hand was again on your ass, this time digging into the soft flesh to keep you at bay. You were stuck in the rapturous stance, ready to burst at any time. 

‘C’mon, baby, fucking cum on my tongue,’ he growled before placing himself right back where his demand would be met and this time, as the tightness pulled at your body, you couldn’t control it. Not a minute later, were you gasping out his name as you let the pleasure take over all of you.

You rode your high out to the final moment where he kissed your thigh again, eyes heavy and faint smile adorned his lips. While both your breaths were evening out, you slipped down over his body to see the full picture. Even in the barely-lit room, you could see how his face was glistening with your juices, and it just kept going down his neck, drenching the top of his tanktop. It was a sight for sore eyes—and legs. What you would do to see it over and over again. 

With a soft laugh that only spelled out “trouble”, you started to softly trace the lines of his beard. He looked up at you with furrowed brows, awaiting an explanation to your actions. 

‘Told you I could handle it,’ you smiled, smacking his cheek. Not viciously or even that hard, but firmly enough to wake him up from his pussy-drunk state. 

And wake him up, you did. 

‘They call it foreplay for a reason, sugar.’ He smirked and suddenly you grew very aware of his hold on you. The next second, you felt yourself move through the air as he took his turn in flipping you over. You nearly got the wind blown out of your lungs as your back hit the mattress for the second time that night, this time with his weight on top of you. 

There was the sound of a belt unbuckling. Your eyes automatically searched for the source, ready to see what he had been packing below, but Logan was quicker, cupping your face in his hand, squeezing your cheeks so you’d have no choice to look up at him. 

‘Eyes on me.’ His voice was as soft as limestone, fine and effervescent in the most rigid fashion. Then his hand moved down, pushing you by the throat into the soft pillow underneath. He leaned forward, placing his mouth over your ear to whisper: ‘Gonna be a good girl for me?’

You nodded as best as you could with the stiff hold he had on you.

‘Use your words,’ he growled and squeezed. 

‘Yes,’ you choked out weakly, exactly like he had wanted you to. 

The release of his hand reopened the next floodgates in your body. You could still taste the result of the last time on his lips and tongue when he kissed you. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more. And the most painful part of it all was that you knew just how close you were to getting what you wanted. You could feel the loose belt buckle against your thigh.

‘Logan,’ you gasped as an ending to the kiss. ‘Please.’

‘What did I just tell you, hmm?’ And yet, he still pulled at your dress to push it up over your hips. ‘Use your fucking words.’

‘Fuck me.’ You tried to reach for the top of his jeans, but there was no moving from the position he had you in. ‘Need you inside me.’

‘But yeah, I’m the desperate one,’ he mocked before sitting up. You watched with anticipation at how he unzipped his trousers, and pulled his dick out from his boxers. There was no surprise that he was completely hard by now, and even the size, considering the rest of him, was not a revelation. This had been exactly what you had been counting on when you saw him in that cage. Seeing him stroke himself in front of you was nothing but validation. 

‘Just look at you,’ he said as he kept his hand on his cock, ‘Opened your legs up for me the moment you saw me.’ His other hand reached for the top of your dress, stretching it down to reveal your breast. ‘Bet you would have let me fuck you in that cage, huh?’

‘Can’t deny, the thought had crossed my mind.’ You admitted, letting yourself think back to how attractive he looked back in there. Drenched in sweat under those cold lights. That animalistic glint in his eyes. Not much different from now, truth be told.

That had been all Logan needed to hear. You hadn’t realised you were holding your breath in expectation until the feeling of him entering you finally took over. Your lips formed a perfectly blissful O as he stretched you out. 

‘That’s right,’ he beamed, ‘gonna fill you up. Nice and tight.’ And he didn’t waste any time, pulling back right after he had reached your depths. In seconds, he had a pace going that left you shaking underneath him, the grunts that accompanied his thrusts recoiling through your nerves. You hands clutched around for a something to grab onto as you started to feel like you were going to sink into the bed from the power at which he fucked you—for that’s what it was, nothing but a brutal and rough fuck.

You searched the sheets for grip, but Logan had other ideas. Taking you by the wrists, he pulled your arms up over your head, holding them against the paneling of the bed. The dull banging on the wall could have very well been your own headboard or the angry fists of your neighbours from the other side, but either way, you were too preoccupied to pay them any mind. 

This had been what you were waiting for. What he had promised. The untamed animal that worked off of nothing but impulses. Anything to suffice that pure need for pleasure. 

His grip on your wrists was tight, and to say it didn’t turn you on even more than anything else he had done before would be a blatant lie, but your urge to touch him was stronger. You tried to wiggle your hands free, but there was no way of doing so. Not with a man like Logan in control, that much he had made clear.

‘This not good for ya?’ he huffed out, but before you could respond, he pulled you up by your arms until you straddled his thighs, chest to chest, an angle which pulled him in even deeper. 

‘Oh my god,’ your eyes rolled back at the sensation.

‘No god will help you now,’ he said against your lips before bringing you in for another kiss. You wrapped yourself around him, finding comfort in the softness of his hair once more while he began to guide your hips into a steady motion to fit the pace at which he moved. Testing the waters again, you pulled at the hairs on the nape of his neck. The smile on his face as his head rolled back was unmistakable even in the dark of the room. 

You pulled harder and there it was. That pure moan you had been waiting for and once you got a taste of it, you couldn’t get enough. 

And neither could he.

With the goal set, you dragged your nails over his shoulders as you let your hips roll over his.

‘Fuck yeah,’ he moaned in ecstasy, ‘use me, baby.’ The words came out airy and made your head spin at their contrast. How could he be acting like your little plaything while still taking full control of you? It made you feel grand and tiny in his arms at the same time, but mostly, it was so incredibly hot.

He hissed at the feeling of your nails digging into his skin. ‘Don’t you dare fucking stop.’ He stressed each word with a thrust, dotting it with a sharp kiss. And so, you did as you told, pushing yourself onto him in all ways you could. You didn’t know if you had it in you to draw blood, but it sure felt close to it. You were waiting for Logan to scream out, pull you off of him, but it only seemed to rile him up more.

That’s a monster. That’s what the man in the bar had called him. Monster. And there was a sense of truth to it. There was a beast hiding inside him, ready to attack. Maybe he thought he had found a victim when he saw you, but as you clenched around his length, you were quite the opposite. 

You were no victim. No damsel in distress. No princess. 

You were a hunter, and you had just caught your grand prize.

‘I’m gonna—’ you were unable to finish the sentence before the rapture. You screamed his name in elation as the second flush satisfaction washed over you that night but it wasn’t enough for Logan. He kept on rutting into you, his grunts filled the room, until you felt it all spill out of you.

Once he had caught his breathing under control, he sighed out a contented “fuck,” which you wholeheartedly agreed with as you pulled yourself off him. The emptiness you immediately began to feel was disquieting, and you could feel that need for him bubbling up in your stomach again. The only thing that slightly helped was the sight of him when you returned from the bathroom, jeans on the floor next to the pile of clothes you had formed through the night. 

You took all of him in with wonder as you slipped your dress off your body.

They shook their heads

Saying, "God help her" when I

Told 'em he's my man.

But your good Lord didn't need to

Lift a finger, I can fix him

No, really, I can.

Woah- Maybe I can't.

You awoke to the sunbeams bursting through the curtains. Sore all over, you tried to stretch across the bed, mindful of the presence next to you. 

Except, when you stretched out your hand, you were only met with the soft material of the bedsheets. The mattress had gone cold and reformed back to its natural state, having forgotten any weight that might have laid there the night before. If you had looked outside, you would have seen an empty parking spot beside yours. The only sign of there ever having been someone in that bed with you was the ghostly presence of the smell of cigars and aftershave. 

You smiled to yourself, nails digging into the sheets as you let your mind wander back to the realm of dreams.

the end.

thank you for reading 💗

if you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. or send a message via my inbox with your thoughts. I'd love to hear what you thought of it. requests are also more than welcome. 💗

[runa-falls]

reciprocation

part 1 | part 3

pairing: best friend!steven grant x reader

cw: smut (18+), fwb relationship, PWP, face sitting, mutual-pining but their idiots so..., 69, cumming untouched, cum eating.

w/c: 3.4k of SMUT AHHH

a/n: ignore how this is suddenly typed with capital letters :0. THIS ONE IS FOR MY FAVORITE STEVEN ANON WITH THE 69 REQUEST FROM A MONTH AGO -- i'm sorry it took so long 🫠

also special shout out for @whatthefishh for reading over it like half-a-month ago 😭🙏🏻 i was going through a major writers block :^)

masterlist

----

“Are you sure about this?” You watch him warily from a few feet away, shifting from side to side.

Steven is laid back on the bed patiently waiting for you, hair fluffy and soft under him. You can tell he’s been thinking about this for a while now, eager to start. 

His voice is soft as he appraises the timid energy surrounding you, “I’m sure. I want it–you. I promise.” For once, Steven seems to be the least nervous between the two of you. You're not used to him being in charge or even initiating anything remotely affectionate, let alone sexual. “Do…you?”

You can already see the prominent outline of his erection pressing sweetly against the thin fabric of his sweatpants. No matter how loose and comfortable he dresses, he can never manage to hide his need for you. 

“I do, but I just… don’t want to accidentally hurt you.” You wring your hands together, still unsure if you should approach him. 

Steven looks at you with trusting eyes, “You won’t hurt me, darling.” His comforting words help you relax a little, almost making you forget what you agreed to, what you’re so apprehensive to attempt. He offers you a hand and you take it, letting him pull you closer and guide you onto his lap.

His voice lowers as desire drips from his lips, “Though, even if you did,” His dark eyes look up to meet yours, pure need bleeding through the gaze. You eagerly drink it in, body buzzing on top of him with flustered energy. “I think I’d be okay with it…” Your breath hitches.

You know it’s true. Steven has never shied away from pain; he even invites it in the heat of the moment. He likes to be under your control, letting you use his body to drive him crazy, even if it means teasing and denying him until he’s sobbing under you.

He loves seeing the possessive marks you leave when he wakes up in the morning, fingers ghosting over them as the night before replays in his mind, or feeling the residual sting of scratches down his torso when he takes a shower, letting the warm water draw out the sensations until he’s hard and aching for you again, and he has to seek you out, hoping you'll notice him.

You regularly get carried away, so desperate to have all of him, that you don’t even realize how intensely you devour his eagerness to please you. But Steven is more than happy to indulge your hungry advances.

He especially loves it when you soothe him after, lightly kissing each bruise and mark as you whisper sweet words, apologizing for how rough you got.

He takes it with a shy smile, basking in your affections and your gentle touch, sighing as he’s surrounded by your energy, by your undivided attention. 

Sometimes he likes to pretend like you're his, like you're doing this because you love him, not because you think you're being a good friend.

It's not hard for him to imagine it when he closes his eyes, especially when you're moaning around his cock or grabbing his neck to pull him into a desperate kiss.

But when it's all over, when he's pulling his jeans back on -- still thrumming with heat -- the spell breaks and you go back to being just friends.

Now, he's going to pleasure you. Make you feel the euphoria of his mouth, so you'll want him just as much as he wants you. This is his form of reciprocation for all the favors you've given him. And he hopes it will convince you that he'd be a good lover for you. That you could be more than just friends with him.

He lets out a hushed, “Please,” as he leans into you, enticing you to follow him and capture his lips hungrily.

Steven knows exactly what he’s doing when he uses that tone, that soft shade of himself that can bring you to your knees even when he’s falling apart harder and faster than you are. 

You moan against his pouty lips, feeling the softness, his gentle press, you pull him closer, eager to deepen the kiss. He lets you have control over him, merely following you as you slide your tongue against his, delicately tasting you, tenderly holding you by your waist.

Steven is always gentle with you, no matter how clouded his mind gets during these heated moments, no matter how lost in pleasure he gets or how desperately he needs you, he always handles you with delicate care.

You nip at his bottom lip, drinking in his soft mewl as you start to roll your hips against him. His grip on your waist tightens, holding you more insistently against him, letting you feel how desperately he needs you.

His lips are pink and plump when you pull away, parted ever so slightly as he stares between your bodies, working your body over him. His eyes are glazed as he cants his hips to chase the exquisite feeling of your soft center against him.

You tease him, lifting yourself just enough that he can’t grind himself against you. He whines when he can’t feel you anymore, gripping your waist with frustration.

“Love, please!”

You break the kiss and climb off of him, appreciating how ruined he looks from a few kisses and light grinding. He huffs out a breath in frustration, hands fisting with the need to touch you. To have you close.

You stand next to the bed, hair in disarray, fiddling with the hem of your large shirt to garner his attention. His bronze gaze soaks over you, flashing dark when it meets the short hem of your pajama bottoms.

“Your shorts, p-please, take them off.” It’s not a demand, Steven doesn’t make demands, it’s a request, a plea, one that you’ve heard time and time again, and have seldom refused. 

Your fingers find the waistband of your shorts and drag them down until they’re pulled the rest of the way off with the help of gravity. A breathy sigh can be heard under you when you step away from the pooled clothing, leaving you in an oversized t-shirt that barely brushes at the top of your thighs. 

It’s like he’s seeing you for the first time – he’s always like this.

His eyes sparkle as you shuffle closer to the bed. “Come’ere, darling.” He pats his chest, “Right here.” You timidly crawl over him, delicately straddling his chest, legs parted just above his ribs. Your knees pull in towards each other, trying to hide what your shirt can’t cover, but you don’t get far before warm fingers pry you apart. 

“Show me.” It’s a bare whisper, as light as his touch gliding over the outer sides of your legs.

You reluctantly let yourself relax on him, hands gripping his soft shirt, wrinkling the fabric. Heat prickles under your skin as he cranes his neck to look at you, lashes nearly brushing the tops of his cheeks with how lustfully heavy his eyelids are. He takes that moment to breathe you in, devouring every inch of what you’re offering. 

His touch disappears from your thighs, and you hear quiet ruffling behind you, then a broken groan under you. You look over your shoulder and spot his hand pressing desperately against his covered hardness. 

“S-Steven…” He doesn’t stop his actions when he meets your eyes, utterly shameless with his need for you. 

“Beautiful.” 

His breaths become heavy, and his chest moves deliciously under you, right against your hot center. You attempt to squeeze your legs together, hoping to abate the intensifying sensations, but you can’t, his chest keeps you spread, open, and quivering just for his eyes. 

Steven is barely touching you, but even the slightest hint of pleasure has you craving him.

You can’t help but close your eyes as you subtly shift over him, drinking in his soft grunts as he continues to touch himself under you. It makes you throb with heat. 

Steven watches you suck your lip into your mouth to hold in wanton moans as you experimentally slide against his firm chest, hands pressing into him to support your movements.

Your initial timidness crumbles as you roll your hips over him again and your head tilts back as you begin to lose yourself in the way your clit presses so perfectly against him.

Steven’s gentle voice cuts through the carnal fog infesting your brain and pulls you back to reality. “Sit up higher for me.” His hands are back on you, urging you to scoot up. “Let me taste you – L-let me fuck you with my tongue.” You press your dripping center to his shirt-covered torso with a soft moan, feeling the small spot right in between his ribs where you’ve soaked through. “Please, baby?”

You nod wordlessly, letting him guide your body until you’re hovering over his face. Your body shivers as you feel his warm breath brush against your center. 

It’s a bit daunting looking at Steven from here. His face is nestled right in between your thighs – which is not an unusual sight – but this time you are on top. You can barely see his eyes since your shirt is so big it practically drapes over half of his face. What if you suffocate him or break his neck?

“Maybe… we should rethi-” A gasp falls from your lips as strong arms pull you down to his face. “Steven!-” Without hesitation, wet heat laps at the seam of your cunt, greedily dragging over any slick that threatens to drip down your inner thigh. 

Your words are effectively stuck in your throat as Steven begins to eagerly nip and suck at your softness, drawing out deep whines instead of coherent sentences. You can only hold on to the headboard to support yourself, holding back your urge to grind against his supple lips. 

You moan as Steven tentatively nudges against your entrance, laving his tongue over the sensitive opening just to tease you. When he finally pushes into you, you have to hold yourself back from grinding against him like you’re riding his cock. He licks and thrusts his tongue into you, humming at your taste as you drip over his lips, down his chin. 

Your hips uncontrollably buck against him as his tongue flicks at your clit. A hand drops into his hair, tugging frantically at the ends before pushing him further against you, begging – no, demanding for more. He gets the memo and focuses on your most sensitive bud, delicately suckling it until your thighs are trembling by his ears. 

A ball of heat quickly blooms in your lower stomach and flushes under your skin. Familiar sparks of energy thrum up your spine, enticing you to clench around nothingness with promises of unspoken bliss and ecstasy. 

Calloused fingers lift you away from the molten heat of his mouth just as you were reaching your climax. You’re gasping for a breath as Steven holds you back from toppling off the edge. 

You can feel it, his breath, barely ghosting a sigh over your center, and somehow, even that slightest brush of air has you pulsing helplessly over him. He’s breathing as hard as you are, mouth glossy and plump as he stares back up at you, face flushed, and eyes glazed. 

Utterly pussy-drunk. 

Your grip on the headboard tightens intensely and your eyes roll shut. You can’t stop it. 

A stilted cry rips from your throat as your orgasm suddenly rushes over you in full force, crashing over you like a wave. Steven can only watch, lips parted in awe, as you shatter completely untouched right above him.

His fingers grip harsh bruises into the skin of your thighs as he feels himself throb dangerously close to his own euphoric end. You moan harder at the tender marks he paints on your trembling legs. The sharp feeling travels up your legs and straight to your center.

His hands rub your thighs comfortingly, apologetically, before he starts to drag his tongue over your messy center with a hum, doting on you with kitten licks that make you shiver. 

He cleans you up slowly and methodically, making sure to avoid your most sensitive area. Your body still thrums from your unexpected and intense orgasm, and his soft licks quickly become too much, even with how light and sweet he is being. 

You lift yourself away from his tongue, “S-steven…no more. It’s too much!” 

“You can do it again, darling…” He coos, trying to pull you back down onto his mouth. “Just one more. For me, please?” 

You're head is fuzzy as you steady yourself on top of him, gripping the headboard tightly to ground yourself from the lingering sparks of mind-numbing pleasure.

Steven groans as he watches you struggle to get a grip.

“C-can’t. It’s too much…” You get off of his face and sit next to him on the bed, squeezing your legs together to suppress the bout of overstimulation that almost overtook your senses.

You look down at him when one of his hands wraps around your thigh and squeezes, a simple act indulgence that drives you crazy. Your lips part as you take in the view. 

Puffy lips and glassy eyes, blown out with lust, meet your stare, begging you to climb back on, but you're still shaking where you sit. He's drenched in your slick from his chin to his neck and the collar of his shirt is soaked through, sticking sweetly to his chest.

Your eyes drift down to his sweatpants, to the prominent bulge that throbs under your gaze. He palms himself, whining lightly at the feeling of his neediness and desperation. He's so hard, begging for your touch without even saying a word.

“Okay, now it's your turn.”

His shakes his head, “No, I want more.”

“Steven…”

“Please, I want to taste more of you."

"But--" Your eyes dip down to his covered erection that you've been neglecting all night.

"Just...come back, we can do it at the same time if you want.” 

Your face heats at the implication. You don’t know why you’re so coy, you just came right above his fact. You've just never seen Steven like this: so insistent and hungry.

“S-sure, ok.”

You whimper when he eagerly tugs you closer, urging you to straddle his face again. Careful to not knock your knee into his cheek, you swing your leg back over his body, but this time you situate yourself so you can take care of him at the same time.

He immediately dives back in, tongue thrusting into your sensitive channel before you're even settled on top of him. You falter and almost collapse over him, hand grasping at the bottom of his shirt for support.

"Steven! Gentle, please!" You groan out, eyes already threatening to roll back as he continues to drink you in. He hums in response, but doesn't actually let up, if anything, he becomes more insatiable, suckling every stimulus point until you're shaking above him.

You struggle against your pleasure to pull his sweats down, freeing his cock from the restraining fabric. Your mouth waters as his tip weeps for you, spilling silky precum with every breath he takes.

You've always loved Steven's cock. How responsive it is when your breath ghosts over it and how it desperately throbs for you as you swallow around him. How perfectly it fits in your mouth and how deep it can fuck your throat when he allows himself to let go.

Sucking his cock was the furthest you allowed yourself to go. You convinced yourself that these one-sided interactions would keep you from revealing your feelings, that you could deal with the friends-with-benefits bit if you didn't have an actual 'relationship'.

So you deemed actual sex as too intimate and barred letting him touch you (you just weren't sure you could handle it).

But then one thing led to another...

You failed to reject his soft kisses and couldn't resist marking him up like he's yours. And now here you are barely able to handle it as he fucks you with his tongue, hands gripping marks into your thighs as his nose nudges against your wet center.

You don't know if you could go back to just being friends when he's given you unfathomable pleasure. When he talked to you like this. Looked at you like this.

You're a mess and you're struggling to hold on to your original plan.

You try to block these thoughts from your mind as your hand wraps around his cock, squeezing it gently just to get a reaction out of him. He groans against your cunt, movements stuttered as your touch distracts him away from his task.

You unconsciously sit up on your knees and lift your hips off of his mouth to get closer to his cock. Steven barely notices, too focused on holding his orgasm off as you diligently taste him, one lick at a time.

You drag your tongue up his shaft, licking the precum that slowly cascades over his silken skin. You feel his body quake as you lave and kitten lick against his tip, gently coaxing shortened breaths and whimpers with every touch.

You dip down to engulf him into your hot mouth, enjoying the slick feeling of his cock gliding easily against your tongue and the top of your mouth.

His hands frantically latch onto your upper thighs, unintentionally pulling you back onto his mouth as he squeezes at the softness, desperately attempting to control himself.

He has to actively keep his hips from snapping against your face, you just feel so sublime, so soft and hot.

Steven cries against your cunt when he reaches the back of your throat. He can't help it when he feels you struggle to swallow around him, so tight, wet, and hot. He's just so sensitive -- especially when it comes to you.

You keep laving your tongue against the underside of his cock as you suck him in, ignoring the your jaw begins to ache as you open wide for him.

"Uhh!" His stomach tenses under you and he twitches against your tongue.

He can't be cumming already...right?

Fingers grip into your hair and you're suddenly pushed down, forced to take him down your throat. You choke slightly, eyes watering, before letting yourself relax against him.

He's lost in pleasure, grinding and thrusting his cock into your mouth like it's your cunt, shoving it deeper than you're usually comfortable with and you let him.

Steven spurts warmth at the back of your throat. You try your best to swallow it down before it dribbles from your mouth and makes a mess. He whimpers as he fully lets go, thighs tense and trembling under your touch.

He's still cumming when he tugs you back onto his mouth, feverishly lapping through your center before taking your clit between his lips. You orgasm explosively as he avidly sucks you in, already half-way there from the mere feeling of him spilling in your mouth.

Even after he has emptied himself, he continues to gently fuck your face, not yet ready to leave your warmth. His hips stutter and his breaths become uneven but he ignores the overstimulation, too attached to this closeness, to this illusion of mutual affection.

He also continues to lick you clean, despite your whines of discomfort. He lovingly places gentle kisses against your inner thigh, wishing he could stay in this position forever.

He huffs out disappointedly when you climb off of him, even tries to lock his arms around your legs to keep you there, but you were adamant to get away from his insatiable mouth.

"One more?"

You gape at him, "Steven, we already did 'one more'." You shiver, suddenly cold without his body against yours. "What has gotten into you? I've never seen you so...horny before."

He looks at you sheepishly, "I dunno. I guess, once I got a taste I wanted more." He sits up, hand wiping your slick off his face. "How 'bout later?"

"You're already thinking about later?"

He nods, "I'm always thinking about you."

Your heart thumps painfully in your chest as blood heats your face. You try to ignore it. Try not to look directly at him. Try to pretend like he didn't just say that because he probably doesn't even understand the impact that his words have on you.

He's always thinking about your favors. That's it.

"Later, then."

[mochinek0]

Looking Back (Part 1)

Adrien couldn't help but look at Marinette across the room. The only thing that bothered him so much was that she was there with her husband, Damian Wayne. He saw the smile he missed; saw her laughing with friends. He could see how close she was to him, every time she turned and looked at him to continue the story.

"How did you meet your husband, Marinette?"

"Yeah he doesn't look familiar."

"Did he go to school with us; I feel like I would have remembered him."

"Uncle Jagged took me on tour when I graduated, half way through the year, and I met Damian during one of the stops." Marinette answered.

Adrien looked away and noticed his friends were uncomfortable. Some people, those closest to Mari, stopped listening to Lila. Kitty Section had launched to stardom with their amazing clothes, lyrics and Jagged Stones backing. The others…..'Did I do the right thing?' was running across their minds.

"Hey, let's get out of here for a bit." Kim spoke, "I need a drink.

"Alya nodded, "It's….unnerving, right now."

"I don't know." Nino declared.

"It'll only be for an hour." Kim sighed, "There's a place to drink a block away. We can walk over and back."

"We can take my car." Adrien smiled, "I'll probably only have one drink."

Outnumbered, Nino groaned, "I'll drive us back."

After a quick round up, they left to a near by bar.

"This isn't how I expected this reunion to go!" Alya whined, "I thought Marinette would be miserable and we would be telling her, 'You should have be nicer to Lila'. Why is her life; her friends' life, better than ours?"

"Odine broke up with me two months after she found out that I had pulled a prank on Marinette when we were twelve." Kim sighed, "She never got over it. She said I was heartless and a monster to do that to a girl. She said she would be terrified of having daughters with me. I wasn't even thinking that far ahead."

"Looks like you are now." Nathaniel stated.

"I- She was the first girl to confess to me and our dates weren't horrible!" Kim retorted.

Alix chuckled, "Thought that was Marinette."

The former swimmer growled, "Shut up! It's not my fault that girls only want some slim-fit guy!"

"Mylene and Ivan are married." Nino pointed out, "Neither of them are 'slim-fit'."

"That's right!" Alya shouted, "You're blaming us, but guys only want model types. Where's the love for curvy girls, huh? Show me thicc love, dammit!"

"I don't know." Kim spoke, "Where did it go, Nino?"

The DJ rolled his eyes, "It was a mutual break up. We had conflicting schedules and barely had time to talk to each other. It was a ten minute talk at most and then class or sleep. Even now, most dates I've had have been coffee because I'm tired after a gig."

Nino realized his best friend had been quiet so far. He was sure he would have defended himself when his long-time ex brought up models. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted five shot glasses.

"Hey, Dude, are you okay?" Nino questioned, "You ususally don't drink this much."

Adrien turned to Nino and pouted, "I should have married Marinette."

The model didn't expect the table to erupt in laughter.

"Nice one, Dude." Nino smiled, "I understand you want to be included."

"I'm serious!" Adrien whined.

"Dude, if you really feel that way, you only have yourself to blame." his best friend stated.

"Huh?" Adrien replied, confused.

"You were the blindest idiot, as a teen." Alix cackled.

Alya rolled her eyes, "Mari was head over heels for you. It's why she bullied Lila, duh."

Adrien tried to shake off the alcohol, "Bullied Lila?"

Alya took another sip, "You know because you and Lila were dating."

"I would never date that Bitch!" the model shouted.

Everyone froze and looked at him.

"What?" Kim questioned.

"I never dated Lila." the Agreste heir snarled, "I would have never-She's not my type. Fuck, I would never date a model, period. I have always hated modeling; both Chloe and Mari knew that. I did it to get my father's attention."

Everyone looked at each other as the web of lies began to untangle in front of them. After all these years, the thread had begun to snap.

"You all thought Mari was bullying Lila because she liked me?" Adrien continued to rant, "You forget she helped me get with Kagami. Kagami even told me she tried to get us back together. Hell, 'Gami had a crush on her, but ended up with Felix instead. She still says that if Mari suddenly wanted to get together, she'd drop Felix."

No one knew what to say. Everything they thought they knew, that kept them as friends was slowly coming undone. They had been 'Team Lila' for the longest time and now….what were they? Adrien never dated Lila. Adrien said he would never date her. He believed Marinette wouldn’t bully Lila simply because Lila had feelings for him because Marinette helped him get a girlfriend. If that was all true, why did Lila say they dated? Why did she say Marinette bullied her? As if a distant echo, they recalled Marinette calling their friend a liar. Had Lila really lied to them all this time?

Kim let out a loud belch, "Like we believe that." his speech slurring.

"You're saying I'm lying?" Adrien questioned.

Mr. 'Just A Friend' had feelings for her?" Kim answered, "Yeah, right."

"Mr. what?" Adrien asked.

"It's your catchphrase." the former swimmer laughed, "I'm sure you all remember. 'Who, Marinette? No! She's just a friend. She's a good friend. She's a great friend. You'll like her once you get to know her and be friends with her. She's an amazing friend'."

Alix yawned, getting bored of the dying party, "You had 'FRIENDZONE' tattooed on your forehead."

Alya relaxed. She had been so close to believeing that she had betrayed the wrong person, but Adrien having feelings for Marinette was laughable at this point.

"Marinette obviously got tired of hearing how much of a 'friend' she was to you." Alya declared, "The shit I had to listen to when we were friends! How 'dreamy' you looked. The names of you imaginary kids! You two gettign a hamster."

"She found someone better." Alix shrugged, "He's taller and looks strong as hell. The only things you share in common are green eyes and wealthy families."

"Gold digging, Bitch." Alya snarled.

"I thought that, too." Alix admitted, "From what Juleka tells me, Marinette makes more than Adrien alone on her fashion commissions. That's without using her muscle hubby or his family name. Rose said that not even Luka compares. Kitty Section went with them to the Caribbean and …muscles and scars. Said Mari couldn't keep her eyes of him and they barely saw her after that."

"Demon God." muttered Nathaniel.

"Demon God?" questioned Nino.

"His brothers call him 'Demon Spawn', but he's chiseled like the sexy Lucifer marble statues that the church said no to." Nathaniel groaned, "I should have taken my chance, too."

Nino glanced at Adrien and saw him tearing up.

'Shit.'

"Okay, I think we get the idea." the DJ stated, trying to change the subject.

"Alya's right. We tried to get them together so many times, but he always thought they were 'friendly outings' even though eveyone had a date." Kim continued.

Nathaniel took another shot, "Imagine getting kissed by the most popular girl at school and thinking she was 'just being nice'."

"Lila?" Alya replied, "I thought-"

"Lila was popular in class, only." Nathaniel answered, "Marinette was popular all over school. The true 'Queen' of the school."

Adrien quickly stood up, scraping his chair against the floor, and rushed out. Nino quickly rushed out after him.

"What's his problem?" Kim asked.

Alya's eyes trailed after Nino's back before she took another drink and turned back to the group.

Nino quickly spotted Adrien's car. He slowly approached it and found him sobbing in the passenger's seat.

'At least he didn't think he could drive.'

Nino walked around and sat in the driver's side. He simply patted his friend's back.

"Did-Is what Kim said true?" Adrien asked.

Nino unintentionally paused his hand's movements, trying to decide what would be best.

"Nino!" Adrien shouted, "You're my best friend! Is what-"

"Yes." he answered.

He could feel the weight of Adrien's gaze on him.

"We did try setting you up with Marinette." Nino spoke, calmly, "Everyone in the school could see she liked you. I don’t know when she stopped; we truly believed that she was mean to Lila because Lila was with you."

"Not in a million years." Adrien replied.

"You sure?" Nino asked, looking at his friend.

"Not even if it brought my mother back." Adrien growled, "I can't stand her."

Nino started the car as Adrien sunk into his seat. They drove in silence, but he faintly heard the model's sniffles. He knew Adrien might not possibly remember the night and he didn't want to say anything that was too damaging. It was a conversation for another time…if there ever was.

Adrien thanked Nino as they got out of the car and he took the keys form him, "She looked happy tonight, didn't she? Her smiles were always the brightest."

Nino watched as tears fell down his friend's cheeks. Adrien quickly turned and went inside. Nino sighed and took out his phone.

"Yo, Max. I need a ride." he spoke, "Got a minute to spare?"

[ihanflwr]

yea my boyfriend's pretty cool - nishimura riki (pt.1)

next part

IN WHERE; you try to make your ex, riki, jealous. it doesn't work out the best for you.

genre: a tinyyy bit angsty, fluff

warning: a little bit of cursing, suggestiveness, underage drinking.

not proofread! 🙆🏾‍♀️

it started off great. it was finally your birthday, and to celebrate, you invited all your friends and mutuals.

it's the first time you hosted something so big, especially for your own birthday. honestly, you just couldn't wait for everyone to leave already.

you didn't plan for there to be alchohol at the party, it just.. happened. so now you're technically responsible for a bunch of drunk teenagers.

(more under cut)

knowing you get drunk easily, you decided to not drink tonight. you can have fun while being sober.

"ugh, this is a mess," you grumble to ni-ki, "you're gonna help me clean this up right?" you tease, turning back to look at him. you blink in confusion.

he was just walking right behind you, and now he's gone? how long were you talking to yourself for?

you see him in the distance talking to a girl. you quickly approach him and wrap your arm around his, your grip tight.

it was almost midnight, and you guys were outside at your pool. your parents were pretty wealthy, so they could afford this big yard.

it's windy af so you have to squint to look up at ni-ki. he awkwardly nudges you away gently, going back to talking with that girl. they were acting like you werent even there.

you frown and reach for his arm again. he lets out an exasperated sigh. "not right now," he urges, briefly looking down at you and then contuing his convo.

you slowly look at the girl he was talking to, scanning her features. naoi rei.

she was older than you, and more athletic, and maybe even funnier. but your ego is never letting you believe that.

you have nothing against her, but why was she ignoring your prescense? maybe she's drunk. she notices your glare and smiles at you.

she isnt trying to be condescending, but thats the way you take it. your expression doesn't falter. infact, that just makes you angrier.

"i think i should leave you two alone," she says awkwardly, still smiling. "i'll see you inside! i think." she scurries away, going inside the house.

you turn to face ni-ki. knowing what's coming, he runs a hand along his hair and groans.

"what's your problem?" he asks, almost scowling at you.

"what's yours?" you retort. "i'm your girlfriend, but it seems like you have bigger priorities."

"i'm not allowed to discuss schoolwork with a classmate?" he crosses his arms.

"you can discuss schoolwork... at school."

"you mean mug every female that looks in my direction," he says passive-agressively.

"no i don't," you lie, not bring able to look at him.

"listen," he starts, taking a deep breath. "i don't wanna argue with you." he starts to walk away from you. you grab his arm and stand in front of him, blocking his away. which is stupid because he can easily just walk around you if he really wanted to leave.

"i don't either. just admit you were in the wrong," you mutter.

"why am i always in the wrong?" he asks, starting to get a little annoyed, now.

"i dunno, ask yourself that. maybe you should reflect--"

"this isn't gonna work," he suddenly interrupts. your eyes widen, backing away from him.

"what?"

"this isn't gonna work," he repeats. without further explaining himself, he walks away from you, heading towards the house.

for a few minutes, you keep trying to pinch yourself to see if this is just a dream. you look back at the house, faint music playing.

aint no way he's trying to go into my house after dumping me, you think to yourself. you take a deep breath to calm yourself down, but its no use.

you storm into the house, turning the lights on and shutting off the speaker. everyone turns to look at you.

"everybody needs to get the FUCK out," you yell, and everyone kind of stands there for a minute.

"hello? y'all deaf?" you shout again. everyone quickly scrambles to gather their stuff and cram out the door. in the crowd, you notice ni-ki's lingering gaze on you. obviously, you ignore it.

finally, it seems like everyone's out the house. your home is now a mess, and you only have 3 days to clean the whole place by yourself before your mom gets back.

tears threatning to fall at your eyes, you plop onto the couch and curl up into a ball, tightly hugging a pillow.

"bad bitches don't cry," you try to encourage yourself, but it makes you wanna cry even more from how corny that was. you squeeze your eyes shut.

you can hear soft footsteps approaching you. "whats wrong with you?" a concerned voice asks.

you slowly open your eyes and look up at the person. it was your best friend, sunoo. behind him was winter, biting her lip nervously.

you abruptly burst into tears, and winter and sunoo rush over to hug you. no words needed to be said. your soft sniffles and occasional whimpers is all that could be heard.

last night was ROUGH. you didn't even wipe off yout makeup, so you woke up with mascara stains all over your cheeks. you have a pounding headache after crying so much the previous night.

your mood lightens a bit when you see winter and sunoo laying on either side of you. it seems like they slept with you to comfort you throughout the night. you don't remember much, just a bunch of sobbing.

"you finally up?" winter asks softly. you nod, sitting up. she sits up too.

"are you gonna tell us what happened?" she inquires, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"mhm, just waiting for sunoo to wake up," you mumble. "but long story short, riki broke up with me."

"what!?" winter shrieks, making sunoo jolt up. he rubs his eyes.

"what happened?" he asks groggily, slowly sitting up as well.

"y/n and riki broke up," winter says with a slight pout.

"seriously?" sunoo gasps. you can notice them both reaching in for another hug. you place your hands in front of them.

"crying all day isn't gonna accomplish anything," you admit. you were moreso trying to convince yourself rather than your friends. winter hums in agreement.

"we should get started on cleaning up," sunoo proposes, getting up and stretching.

"you guys don't have to," you say gratefully.

"you're tell me you were planning on doing this by yourself?" winter raises an eyebrow. you gently elbow her.

"i'm tryna be nice here," you whine, and she giggles. it's so fun to tease you.

soon enough, you all get washed up and start cleaning. while cleaning, you explain more in depth about what happened last night.

"has he texted you after last night?" sunoo asks as he cleans the windows.

"i don't know, i haven't checked my phone in a while," you say while wiping the countertops. you stop what you're doing and pull your phone out from your pocket, taking off 'do not disturb.'

yup, 12 missed calls from ni-ki. and a bunch of text messages. you even got one from rei. you bite your lip and without hesitation, you block him.

"rei texted me," you say, clearly avoiding the point.

"and as for riki..?" winter asks, pausing her vacuuming to approach you and look over your shoulder to see your phone. sunoo shortly joins in, too.

"i blocked him, so i'm not really sure," you shrug and stuff your phone back in your pocket.

"damn, you blocked him quick," sunoo says, and he can't help but laugh. you nod.

random a/n: who wants to be moots plspls

"what'd rei say?" winter chimes in. you unlock your phone and open your messages.

"at 12am yesterday-- or today technically-- she just sent a paragraph of her apologizing and saying she hopes she's not the reason we broke up." you say. sunoo and winter silently read the text message before sunoo clears his throat.

"how'd she know you guys broke up?" sunoo asks. that's a pretty good point, you think. "either word got around very quick, or ni-ki scurried to tell her as soon as y'all broke up."

"i fear it's the latter option," winter says nervously, biting on her finger.

"i dont wanna go to school tomorrow!" you announce, leaning against the counter. "me and riki sit together in like every single class!"

"don't you have a good relationship with riki?" winter aks sunoo. "maybe you can talk to him."

"i guess i could," sunoo says hesitantly, "but i don't wanna start conflict."

"you don't have to," you reassure, "i can just confront him myself."

winter grins, as if saying "you know damn well." you shoot her a nasty look.

"what? you don't think i can do it?" you ask.

"how about we just take the simpler route," sunoo suggests, "you get a fake boyfriend to make him jealous."

"my life is NOT some sick wattpad fanfic," (🤔) you grumble.

"oh yea, what was the other message rei sent you?" winter asks. you unlock your phone once more.

"its her asking me if i can unblock ni-ki," you groan, rolling your eyes. "this is so stupid."

"take my idea into account," sunoo reminds you. you side eye him but he tries to redeem himself. "a bunch of hot guys like to get jobs at the 7-11 a few blocks away from our campus. don't ask how i know. but anyways, most of them go to our school so maybe-- just maybe-- you could shoot your shot with one of them. just a suggestion."

you cross your arms and turn to face him fully.

"you want me to work at 7-11 just so i can pull some guys?" you ask.

"pretty much," he gives you a thumbs up.

"that's kind of smart, though!" winter says, slinging her hand arpund your shoulder. "you should consider it."

'hmm, maybe," you sigh. "let's just focus on cleaning for right now?" you suggest, resuming your tidying. sunoo and winter agree, going back to cleaning up.

it's gonna be a long week.

pt.2 coming soon :)

[covetyou]

fools just wanna have fun

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x fat contortionist f!reader rating: Mature (18+ only!) warnings: no smut, Dieter's cock and balls, arguing as foreplay, references to past and hoped for sexual encounters (fingering, squirting, oral), clown!Dieter is a menace (but not explicitly clowny at all in this, for those with coulrophobia), drug use, reader is referred to as Sparkles and has a briefly mentioned latex allergy. word count: 1k summary: A quiet night is all he wanted. It's what he deserved after sweating his balls off out there in the ring all night. But, you have different plans - plans, he's certain, involve riding him until the sun comes up.

A/N: this is a follow on to for one night only (Frankie x Reader), but can be read totally independently of that fic. if you'd like more of this pairing, check out jester little bit more.

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when the workin' day is done, oh fools, they wanna have fun, oh fools just wanna have fun...

Bravo the Clown's balls were sweating. They had been all fucking day. It's simply what you get when you're in the asshole of Florida dressed head to toe in colored polyester.

But he was free now. Free for the night, free from another fucking show and, most importantly, his balls were free.

He'd just pulled them out actually, yanking his waistband below them, letting them bunch up under his flaccid cock as he rolled another joint. The one he had just before the last show didn't quite hit the spot, but this one was sure to do the job. Especially now that his balls were finally cooling down.

Not that the peace and quiet lasts too long. It never does.

Before he can so much as find a lighter to light the joint resting between his lips, you slam your way into his trailer with a bang.

"What the fuck?!" He shouts, flinging the nearest thing to him - which just so happened to be his fucking lighter - at you as you stand there panting.

"Don't you dare light that," you say, pointing to him as you catch your breath. "Condoms. I need condoms."

This isn't the first time you've stormed in here, demanding sex of him wearing nothing much at all. It is the first time you seem to have ran here though. You're never usually this desperate for it, but he supposes there has been a lot of tension between the two of you lately. Not exactly sexual tension, more extreme general frustration directed at him rather than anything particularly mutual. Still, it was there, he'd sensed it, and now here you were, demanding a fuck from your favourite clown, already looking positively fucked out -

Wait.

"What the fuck," he says again, pointing right back at you. "I am not giving you my condoms. What about me?! I know that look, you're not leaving me high and dry, Sparkles."

You're practically snarling at him now, and fuck does he love you like this. Feisty. Definitely wet too, even if it's not because of him. Don't ask him how he knows, but there's something about the way your sweat smells that changes when you're get horny that never fails to make him hard.

"What about you? You are not cock blocking me again, Bravo."

Dieter scoffs. You always brought this up. It wasn't exactly his fault you were fucking a civilian out in the open like that. He was well within his rights to walk over and take one of the blankets you had under your head that day. They didn't belong to you, they didn't belong to anyone. They were communal. "That was one time, and he was a nerd anyway."

"A nerd with a massive dick and button mashing fingers. He was about to make me squirt and you came stumbling over. And you're forgetting the girl with the nipple piercings!"

With each angry flap of your arms, he can see your panties as your t-shirt rides up on your thighs. They look wet and fuck if he isn't jealous of whichever asshole is getting a turn between your legs tonight. It should be him, with his condoms. It's not fair.

"That doesn't count," he answers, crossing his arms over his bare chest with a pout.

"It does!"

"If there was no cock involved, I didn't cock block shit."

His dick is at full mast now, and he's surprised you haven't noticed. If you have, you haven't said anything, and usually you were very good about shouting at him when he had his dick out.

Instead, you just sigh. You give in. To him.

"I don't have time for this shit. The condoms, Dieter. Please."

And, quite frankly, it's no fun fighting with you if you're not going to fight back. That doesn't mean he's going to put his dick away, of course. There's no point. He's only going to play with it when you leave.

What he does do is point you to his condom stash kept in a tin under his trailer bench. He didn't exactly use them often. He didn't like them. But he did use them with you, or if he was taking a little knock at someone's backdoor, or even if someone looked a little less sanitary than he'd like. He did have standards.

He also could've got them out for you. But if he did that he wouldn't have been treated with the view of your ass he's currently getting. You always wear the tiniest little thongs for shows. They're the only things that won't show up around the edges of your glitzy costumes. It gets him going just thinking about them wedged up your ass as he watches you perform some nights - an activity that has made him late to his own performances more than once.

Right now, that tiny little thong is nestled right between your ass cheeks, your t-shirt hiding none of your modesty now that you're bending over in front of him. The gusset of your panties peeks out from between your plush thighs too, and it is absolutely fucking drenched. If he knew you'd be amenable to it, he'd be on his knees eating you from the back already, but he knew you. Only the lucky asshole waiting for you would be getting that privilege tonight.

"Gold packet," Bravo grumbles as you rifle through the tin, picking out a small handful of condoms like you plan on having a very eventful night.

"I know what ones are latex free, Bravo."

Because that is why you came here, to him, and not to anyone else. He's probably the only person in this whole place that carried the condoms you could use - the latex free ones that didn't smell like balloons.

You finally stand just as Dieter idly wraps a hand around his balls, giving them a gentle little squeeze, and with nothing more than a middle finger and the poke of your tongue, you go to leave his trailer.

"Oh, and Dieter?" you say, stopping in your tracks halfway out the door. "Max was looking for you."

"Shit."

His wank would have to wait.

tagging previous lovers of clown!Dieter: @beefrobeefcal @sp00kymulderr @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @clawdee @chronically-ghosted @dieterbravobrainrotclub @for-a-longlongtime

[itsuki-minamy]

"SIDE GOLD"

CHAPTER 5: TIME OF HUNGER (Part 4)

* List of Chapters

Translation: Naru-kun

He struck his jaw from above and below, crushing him.

With their exit blocked, the contradictory lines of force have nowhere to go and release their power on the spot.

After a moment,

The upper half of the giant monster's body was torn in half.

Kokujoji screamed as he saw his thick armor, hardened by fear, shattered.

"Who are you, human?"

(I'm hungry...)

It's not just about answering the last mystery left from the battle so far.

"Come with us! We hope you can come with us!"

(I want someone to connect with...)

He never gave up on his ideals and threw himself at them with his hand outstretched.

"With just that you should be able to do it too!"

(Very scary, very scary.)

The essence of existence,

The negative power it carries,

The intention behind the "Slate" that was sent out,

Even though he understood everything, he still extended his hand.

However, the "Colorless King" never took it.

++++++++++

He was not born into a particularly good family.

However, they were a decent family because they could work every day and earn a living.

However, after he was drafted into the army, only bad things happened to him.

After going to war, scary things were added to the unpleasant things.

Still, it was better while fighting.

After the country lost, it became hell.

The entire unit surrendered, but they were not allowed to return to their homeland.

They were put into freight cars like cattle and transported to the far north.

There was nothing, there was nothing, just the detention center.

There they made him work.

They wore short shoes that broke easily,

They huddled together in a tent that didn't even have a floor.

They survived each day on bread crumbs, salty soup, and millet porridge.

They were made to work until they were completely exhausted.

Anyone who was hurt died.

Anyone who destroyed something died.

Those who did not have enough nutrition died.

Those who were exhausted died.

Some even decided to commit suicide.

Some died while trying to escape.

He could not even move the spoon.

"I'm hungry... give me... that..."

There were days when he desperately asked for help and managed to survive.

Everyone was desperate to work,

Everyone was desperately trying to survive.

But, if that were not enough, he was beaten.

A committee was formed that advocated a democratic movement.

The United States loves war, the Soviet Union loves peace,

He started shouting something like this.

If I cut wood, trim it and load it into my car, I can earn a living.

That was all he needed.

But, if that were not enough, he was beaten.

Soon, some of them began to act out a hair-raising court case.

Exposing reactionary elements, making self-criticism and mutual criticism,

He started shouting something like this.

If I cut wood, trim it, and load it into my car, I can make a living.

That was all he needed.

But, to top it off, he was beaten.

In those days, something very important happened...

Human beings were worn out.

And then how much time had passed?

The man who brought his former superior officer to trial,

The guy who wrote a letter of thanks to a Soviet leader,

Thanks to having people like that in the same workshop, he was able to return home.

Before returning to Japan, he was going to join a certain party,

"Participate in the revolution in some way."

A big shot forced him to make a promise, but he forgot everything on the evacuation ship.

He was very happy to be able to return home alive.

However, as soon as he arrived at Maizuru, he was arrested.

The people who were with him ran away, leaving him alone.

"Where did you go...? Don't leave me behind..."

His body had already deteriorated, so he couldn't run away.

Apparently, among the items left behind by those who fled were some suspicious books and documents.

Suspicion of redness, etc.

Was he a spy too?

The occupation forces interrogated and beat him, but he didn't understand anything.

He was escorted to Yokosuka,

When he was about to die, he was thrown into a support center in Uraga.

In the end he didn't know what was wrong and what was forgiven.

After a while, the support center was closed and he was expelled.

He wanted to return home, but since he was arrested immediately after landing, he had practically no documents.

Demobilization certificate, repatriation certificate, etc.

There must have been something there, but there was nothing he could question.

He didn't know where the people who took him were.

The man who was shouting on the street corner that he would let them go home somehow resembled the committee member.

So he was too scared to come closer.

Maybe they would betray him again, like they did some time ago.

They might label him a traitor and leave him to his fate.

So he was too scared to come closer.

He survived with what he had left and what they gave him.

In the end he got there.

Sometimes he picked up trash that other people had thrown away,

There were also scary creatures hanging around, so he couldn't get out.

Among them,

He couldn't move his body anymore.

He was hungry.

He wanted some food.

But he was scared.

What could he do?

He didn't know.

He was hungry.

Everything would be fine, he wanted it.

But he was scared.

Next,

He might die.

But he wanted it.

But he was scared.

"Help me... I'm hungry... I'm going to die..."

His voice didn't reach anyone.

That was all.

Too scary. Too scary.

++++++++++

It had been about an hour since the monster disappeared.

At dusk, the Kings finally arrived at the epicenter of the incident.

The sea breeze smelled of fish and the dock was dilapidated and messy.

"I never thought someone like him could figure it out from just an insider's point of view. This is also that sword... oh, wait."

Otono stumbled on the unstable walkway and Kokujoji had to help him. He insisted, uncharacteristically, on showing him around on foot and laughed sheepishly beneath his bandages.

"I'm sorry, my lord."

"What?"

Kokujoji made a short trip back.

It wasn't a suitable place for a pleasant conversation.

These are so-called floating settlements, with boats of all sizes populating the shoreline, from houseboats consisting of flat barges with cabins on top, to small boats with tents and even floating barrack-like structures.

Originally, the railway line only reached as far as the mouth of the Sumida River, passing through Tsukishima and Kachidoki, but after the war it continued to extend southwards, absorbing overworked workers, homeless people and even thugs. This was part of the image of the time.

They visited near the southern end.

It was an area like a pontoon bridge connecting the area to a small island off the coast.

The vast, desolate area is a collection of dilapidated shacks that could disappear on a stormy night.

It was dusk and the shadows on the boat were deep. The area below the gangway is also submerged in stagnant darkness, filled with the sticky sound of water. The small island in front of them was half submerged in water, surrounded by a field of tall reeds and rushes, and not a single light could be seen from the windows. It is rumored that this place, commonly known as "Ashinaka", is conveniently used as a meeting place for illegal transactions.

Without paying attention to the suspicious terrain, Unno took the lead with two or three boats.

"Is there some guy hiding in a place like this, brother?"

"Yes, he always came from the south and returned to the south, that was what I felt every time I saw "Mushikui". I was sure that he had taken the form of a snake and crawled out."

On the other hand, Otono, who has a small and unreliable gait, calmly replied.

Nazumi, who was watching from behind, summarized the information he had heard so far.

"The truth is that all the shapes we faced were just the outstretched hands or swollen mouths of the "Colorless King", and he himself had been here the whole time... Though it's hard to believe at first."

"Maybe that's so. Most of the energy was being used to explode, but it felt like a small fragment was being sent far away."

Beside him, Iku muttered as she hopped on the rotting bow of the ship like a small bird.

Skilled at grasping the structure of things, she combined her own experiences and sensations, Otono's explanation, and Nazumi's interpretation to get a rough idea of ​​what the "Colorless King" was like.

"He was so afraid of the power he had consumed that he was reluctant to accept it. He was very hungry."

Sadness made her small, hunched back even rounder.

Nazumi added more information.

"In other words, while as a living being I desired it, as a human I rejected it. The power he had consumed while he was the monster "Black Cloak", was probably only enough to sustain his life, the bare minimum."

In the twilight, a brief moment of silence passed.

"The others who were devoured only had their lives nibbled away, so it was a waste of their lives. But then we got serious and punched him, and he was the one who was knocked out first."

Unno spat in disgust.

"Even if he hadn't fought us and had reached the sea... this entire pier would have been destroyed, wouldn't it? I wonder why he was starving and suffering."

Otono was pouring out his kindness as he said that.

"Unlike us, the "Colorless King" wasn't capable of holding a proper conversation. All we knew was what we felt when we first met, and there was no way to know anything more than that. Nor was there any way to know what kind of "King" he was."

Nazumi was sad that he hadn't found a solution.

"What I felt... is a poor boy who can't be with anyone."

Iku was concise and used few words.

"I was very afraid of the bonds that came with power."

Then Kokujoji spoke with a sad look on his face, squeezing the hand that had been denied to him until the very end.

"But human life is based on connections. If he is alive, then I am still..."

The Kings, who have had much to do with death, know that such hope is slim.

Yet even so, no one laughed at Kokujoji's naivety.

Finally, Otono turned his gaze to a ship.

"...It seems we have arrived."

It was a small, rickety vessel, with barracks on top and looking similar to a pleasure boat.

It is surprising how it does not sink with such a shallow draft and being submerged in water.

"Me first."

Unno crossed the board first, keeping a watchful eye around him.

But naturally, there was no movement, neither inside nor outside.

The sound of the crashing waves and the stench of floating garbage were the only things that decorated the hut in a gloomy manner as the twilight deepened. Everyone stood in front of the entrance, which was nothing more than a hanging straw mat.

Kokujoji and Otono had already noticed that by this time.

"......"

"Hey Iku-chan, come here."

Otono, as an adult and as a person, tried to stop the girl, but...

"It's okay, I've gotten used to it."

Iku shook her head. She could tell that too from the stench of rotting garbage.

Unno frowned.

"That's not something a child should say."

"Come on."

Nazumi encouraged without pushing.

And so, the six kings were finally gathered.

He was dead, leaning with his back against the wooden wall at the back.

The face visible beneath the long, unkempt hair was abnormally thin and devoid of flesh. The same could be said for his completely thin, rag-wrapped body. There were no gestures or expressions to suggest any kind of will. There, it was as if life had been cut short, and it was the kind of death that could be seen everywhere, a face of death they were familiar with.

The true identity of the mysterious "Black Cloak", the man who had become a monster, the "Colorless King" who had devoured a nuclear bomb and wreaked havoc, was found starving to death in the back of a completely empty room, without a single morsel of food in sight.

Iku didn't feel bad about the situation.

His appearance was normal for today's society.

"The same as everyone else."

"Ah, it seems we kings can die as humans too."

Considering his own circumstances, Otono even felt grateful for that.

Unno apologized to the man on the other side of the death he missed.

"I'm sorry, we were the only ones having fun."

"What would have been the right answer... or is this even the right answer?"

Nazumi saw death before his eyes as yet another problem piled up and needed to be solved.

After hearing the voices of everyone present, Kokujoji finally stepped forward in front of him.

He searched for the right words to say.

(Will your death not be in vain?)

It was different.

(Is it thanks to you that I was able to get this far?)

It was different.

(What would have happened if we had met before?)

It was different.

Having been drawn into the events caused by the "Slate", having prolonged a painful life and death because of it, having forced death and destruction that were never his intention, he has no intention of attributing it all to fate, or judging it in terms of right and wrong. Because facts are just facts.

The time for falsely asking for forgiveness is long gone.

He decided to be honest about what he was carrying inside.

These are...

"Why?"

All plausible reasoning was suddenly shattered by an overflow of emotion.

"Why didn't you take my hand? Why didn't you try to make everyone happy?"

What came out of his mouth was a selfish attachment to the dream he was trying to create. It was a one-sided denunciation of the other person who had not tried to create together with him the desired mystery, the desired miracle.

The other kings present looked in amazement at the distressed state of the "Golden King" when they saw him for the first time.

"If you had taken my hand, I could have taken you with me!"

The dead "Colorless King" remained silent.

But still, the "Golden King" continued to express his feelings.

"Why didn't you come with me? Why did you die alone?"

It was an angry cry that sounded like a wail.

"I don't even know your name!"

It was a wail that sounded like an angry scream.

The kings, all of them different in terms of where they were born and raised, their personalities, aspirations, ages, and occupations, all wanted to hear the thoughts... not logic, but emotions... that were conveyed in the voice of the man known as Kokujoji Daikaku.

A fierce battle between the supernatural "Kings",

Political turmoil in occupied Japan played out behind the scenes.

The manifestation of "power" that decisively changed the world.

That little feeling gained after all those twists and turns is the true achievement of that battle. Without even realizing it, it was the seed of a Fusang tree that would send out branches and leaves to future generations.

[manie-sans-delire-xx]

I don't know if you're comfortable talking about this anymore, but i was thinking about you today and i remembered why you went to jail for and everything that happened to you there and i got so fucking angry. i can't fathom how someone can put a 19 year old mentally ill girl in solitary confinement for months because she killed a cat. like that just seems absolutely insane to me. i'm not trying to justify what you did because it was very obviously wrong but there's something deeply evil with the justice/police/prison system and the way it treats certain people while also completely ignoring their age and background. i'm sorry you had to go through that.

Mm hm...kinda weirds me out that you were thinking about me and I dont know who you are, anon. Clearly a long term follower. A mutual or stalker... but eh whatever. Wow, thank you...its so odd to me when other people have feelings FOR me. But thank you for thinking of me kindly, and caring about my life.

Yeah putting a teenager in "the Hole" for months was pretty fucked. And illegal. And technically torture. And they neglected my needs for days. It wasnt just me, they ignored other inmates too. A lot of the guards are total assholes, naturally.

But eh, it really wasnt That bad (narrators note: It was that bad). I didnt get shanked or raped, and I think thats all you can ask from jail. I consider myself lucky, that I got off easy, and Im still glad I had the interesting life experience- I actually wanted to have the experience of going to jail. It was a lot more boring horror, slow pain, than any exciting adventure like I had hoped. It really changes your perspective on so many things, it makes you learn. I also met a friend there who seriously dated my sister, and she met her current serious bf because they were friends. So she met her two most serious loves because I went to jail lol. I was just glad I wasnt going to be serving my sentence in the suicide watch ward, where they first brought me, like I thought I was. That would have been hell.

I think that showing me early how shitty life in prison would be, and how not worth it it is, might have prevented me from escalating antisocial behavior into murder. Because I was really deep in it.

There were a lot of other inmates that were actually insane. And Im not even talking about the men constantly shouting yelling screaming so loud you could hear it clearly in the womans block (impressive really. But highly annoying). Some women screaming yelling too. Ok I did too a few times so what lmfao. But no, some inmates clearly should have been in forensic psychiatric care, not jail. They were clearly incoherent and not orientated to reality, so idk how you can deem them criminally competent even if they dont strictly have psychosis? They prob do anyways. Its wrong to put them in a cage and chains, theyre not mentally there. Although she Did have to have full chains and a 4 guard escort at all times due to a classification requirement (I did too- hilarious) so that means she did something physically violent, minor or major. Idk maybe she did something really heinous. But still, thats what forensic psych hospitals are for so maybe she'll go there after trial.

"Very obviously wrong" I mean ok yes, for the suffering I caused, but is it though... I mean is it really any worse than killing a chicken, or a pig? Pigs are a lot smarter than cats. Its just a cultural repulsion, a bias of attachment. Some countries eat cat and dog meat regularly... I know psychopathy is culturally relative in how its defined. But objectively, animals killing animals is natural. Most people eat meat, theyre just not seeing it happen. Modern Western society is alienated from death- we talked about this in a class once. Abuse is wrong though, its unnecessary suffering. Killing is normal but suffering should be minimized. A lot of the other inmates in jail didnt give a single fuck either. I mean some of them are actual murderers, so... This one older black guy told me he purposefully swerves into cats running across the road just for fun. Then he gave me a cookie. Wtf man. A few did, but they changed their minds about me. This one older white lady refused to even speak to me, but after dorming together for a while she ended up sneaking in cigarettes and candy for me, hah. (Um because she realized I wasnt that bad I guess, not because I beat her up or something). Sorry, ASPD is gunna ASPD. Lack of remorse and all that. But whatever, I paid the price to society fair and square, my social contract is intact.

[emilykaldwen]

The individuals harassing people are just offering softsoap apologies because a fire has been lit under their asses with the threat of legal action. Absolutely hollow. One of them posted it was about winning a fandom even as they regretted the means of achieving it. Winning what? It's a fandom. It's fanfiction. We should be having fun. It's just fiction and we are the fans. They're turning into the Hunger Games here. Absolute unbelievable behaviour from these kind of people. If it's true they were operating in other fandoms then safe to say they will do it again.

First off I love the term softsoap and now I need to add it to my lexicon.

Genuinely, I wish people in GENERAL would understand that there is the bullshit internet bullying and trolling, and then there’s actual cyberstalking and harassment. Should Ange move forward with legal rep (which I fully support), at best I can see them getting banned from tumblr (hey staff, how about getting to those harassment reports we’ve all been filing across the platform). At worst? I can’t speculate. But it won’t be fun, that much I know.

I hope what people learn from this is that actions SHOULD have consequences. We are all so ready to shout out to not stand silently when people are harassed in our every day lives, that should hold true here. It’s why I came out immediately after being contact about ‘why did you block me?’ With screenshots of the conversation that individual was twisting. I know why people don’t want to be part of the ‘drama’ because frankly, the behavior these people have shown is beyond anything normal. But I’m also completely disgusted by people going ‘I don’t want to pick sides’. I can only speak for myself: I did fucking nothing to anyone, but there’s a side when people are going around claiming I’m running a cult? Setting up hate blogs about me? I’ve never interacted with any of them, I’m literally some fucking random small blog they decided not to like because they happened to fit the toxic behavior profile I called out.

And that was nothing compared to what they’ve done to Ange.

Me at these assholes: that’s my purse I don’t know you!

I have had these people blocked long before I ever became friends with Ange or Em. 95% of the time it’s ‘your take crossed my dash and I didn’t like it’ or ‘wow you are tagging things that don’t belong in the tag’ or ‘wow you make me uncomfortable and I don’t want to see any more of this’

As everyone fucking does.

This is beyond ‘Hobbyless Behavior’. What does winning fandom even mean??? That you want to be the most well known asshole? Because honey lemme tell you, this is just one section of fandom. I have mutuals that have messaged me going ‘who the fuck are any of these people?’

I’m mostly just devastated for everyone whose first fandom experience is a bunch of narcissists intent on DARVOing their way through this (deny, argue, reverse victim and offender). I know one of them has been in the Outer Banks fandom. Would not be surprised if they had been in others.

[girltimeswithscar]

HAI BEAUUU ^___^ 12, 22, and 25

🔥 choose violence ask game 🔥

12 the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them: I have no idea who is unpopular vs who is popular, i cater my dash and discord experience to myself and so I hear about my favoritest guys whenever something fun happens with them. out of everyone I hear a lot about though, I hear the least about Gem. I LOVE GEM. I genuinely think she has complete mastery over the Minecraft Video Format and frankly outshone everyone on this server pacing wise this season. She knows when to cut to grindy aspects of minecraft as breathers between high interpersonal drama and murder. She brings the best out of everyone in the funniest way possible, like she charmed Pearl into a red name alliance, she roasted Mumbo's tower and made him dig his pg13 hole deeper and deeper, you know how she is with etho. I HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY ACTUALLY. but im a gem stan forever. 22 your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores:

I HAVE A HARD TIME ANSWERING THIS BC I DONT RLLY BELIEVE IN CANON WRT THE LIFE SERIES. I think something that might get overshadowed by people either putting Cleo into the Doting Mom Friend or Annoyed Girl With Braincell categories is that she really really really cares about her teammates and refuses to betray them until they've betrayed them first. I think you see this especially with their text on screen! Saying one thing out loud but clarifying it after the fact to give it new meaning... It's super characterful and is very much like a ["blah blah blah," he lied.] type thing. SHOUT OUT TO CLEOS INTERNAL MONOLOGUE !

25 common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing: I am sick of hearing about avoiding negativity LOL. I love complaining and I love blocking topics, characters, aus, tropes, tags, and people on my personal blog on tumblr dot com. people are allowed to say they think things are boring. they are allowed to say they think YOU are boring for liking those things. I get that this is a fandom that skews younger and I also went through a phase of taking it extremely personally when someone called the thing i like Cringe (or even worse, actually critiqued it and shredded it to smithereens), but like, please let me be a grumpy old man with my fellow grumpy old man mutuals. I am making the stuff that I want to see! I also need to talk myself into making stuff for myself and not for An Audience. Sometimes I like to post opinions to see if anyone agrees, or has a cooler idea, or see if there's secretly an entire aspect of fandom I just don't see because it's covered by the popular stuff I do not like. i dont really have a thesis but haterisms and wishing out loud for a fandom culture that doesnt exist yet is awesome and you dont need to be friends or agree with everyone in your fandom :thumbsup:

[boldlyvoid]

forever is the sweetest con | Chip Taylor x Reader

18+

Summary: Reader's dad is a carpenter; sometimes he takes on apprentices and sometimes, if they're lucky, they get his daughter's number at the end of their training. Chip Taylor, however, hits the jackpot when her father invites him over for one of her homecooked meals.

Warnings: reader's mom passed away, mentions of parental death, strangers to lovers, random acts of kindness, mutual pining, falling in love, steamy make-outs, oral sex (male and female receiving), fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, sub!chip, food mentions, praise, love confessions.

word count: 6.2k

a/n: thank you @samuel-de-champagne-problems for requesting a chip fic!! i am in love with him and also yes this plot is something that happened to my parents, however, my mom is still alive and my dad does give my Instagram out to the men who subcontract for him lmao!

Her father was a carpenter, and he often took on apprentices. You see, he had to learn everything on his own to make his way in life and support his family, he was willing to help other men do the same thing. And so every night he would come home from work and talk about whatever idiot he was teaching this week.

“His name is Chip,” her father emphasized the p with confusion, “what is that even short for?”

“It’s short for Charles,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “is he at least more competent than that Mason kid?”

“Much!” He rolled his eyes, “although I did have to teach him how to put crown moulding in today, he’s a quick learner and you can tell he’s just following what they teach at the schools but I know the hacks.”

“I know, Dad,” she smiled. “Is he cute? Single?”

She’s been on dates with most of the guys he’s worked with, mainly because they went to her high school back in the day, but also because her father was trying to play matchmaker. Ever since her mother died, she’s been taking care of him and he just wanted her to have some fun outside of the house. She needed a life in his eyes.

She was content working at the diner and serving people food all day just to come home and take care of her father. He worked hard to make sure they stayed afloat after her mom, the least she could do is make him dinner and a sandwich for lunch the next day.

“He is actually,” he shrugged, “he’s a yes man, you’d probably really like him.”

“Why’s that?” She asked, waiting for whatever snide comment he was going to make to jokingly piss her off.

“Your aunt Lisa only married your uncle Jason because he was a yes man and she could wear the pants, and you’ve always been just like her,” he explained it nicer than she expected.

“Give him my number next time you work with him?” She asks nicely, taking his plate from the table and moving it to the sink.

“Good luck chip,” she hears him mumble under his breath.

It makes her laugh, she loves her relationship with her father and the friendly environment they were able to keep after everything that’s happened to their family. They always laughed together, he was always cracking jokes and even when they were shouting obscenities at each other it came from a place of love, “fuck-head” was a term of endearment in their home.

—

He brings Chip home with him without telling her, she’s been home all day cleaning the house; her hair is a mess and she’s all sweaty, and he really is cute. She made enough food for an army so it wasn’t a problem in her father’s eyes, saying “doesn’t she always look beautiful? It’s fine Y/N.”

“Yeah,” Chip agreed with a small smile and a blush that roared red down his neck. "You're very beautiful."

She cleans up a bit before dinner, brushing her hair and changing into a nice sundress. She adds some perfume and shakes the anxiety out of her body, he was just one of her dad’s friends from work. And he happened to be incredibly adorable.

Returning to find them talking about how he fixed their frozen pipes in the winter with a hairdryer. It was the most basic shit to her and yet Chip was fascinated like he’s never heard any of these things before. He’s holding a beer in his hands with a leg crossed as he leans on the sofa and he’s so cute…

He’s in his work jeans and his shirt is all sweaty, and his hair is curled on the ends from all the hard work. His hands are dirty and he smells like sawdust and home. She’s not listening to a single thing they’re talking about, she’s just staring at the way his face moves when he talks and how sweet his laugh is.

He loves dinner, he’s beyond thankful and even more so for dessert. She made homemade banana bread with the bananas they had, they were going to go bad if she didn’t. It wasn’t anything special but he acted like she made his whole day.

He helps bring all the dishes into the kitchen, standing beside her as she fills the sink with water, “do you have a towel? I could help dry.”

“I know where everything is, how about you wash and I dry?” She compromises with a smile, and he’s more than happy to oblige.

She learns a little about him, he’s kind and friendly and he seems to crave the feeling of family that being in her home provides. He doesn’t want to stop washing dishes because then he has to go home, and he doesn’t look like he really wants to do that either.

“Do you need a ride home, Chip?” She asks as he lets the sink water out, “I was thinking about going to get some ice cream if you want to join me?”

“I would love to,” he smiles again, “thank you, Y/N.”

—

She understands everything when she drops him off at his tiny, little, run-down apartment; he’s going to be all alone as soon as he leaves her car and she hates that for him. He was so nice it was hard to believe that he didn’t have a nice partner and a house and kids by now.

“I wouldn’t mind if you came over for dinner after all your shifts with my dad? Just text me before so I make enough dinner?” She offers with butterflies swarming in her stomach.

“You’re too kind to me,” he replies, unable to meet her eyes as she turns to him.

“I just want more time to look at you,” she teases, “you’re really handsome.”

He lights up, “you think so?”

She nods with a small laugh, pushing air through her nose as she leans in more, “and you’re nice and funny, and your voice is cute.”

He’s stunned as his eyes flick back and forth from hers to her lips, his lips are parted as he tries to breathe but fails, he looks like no one has ever told him that before.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?” She changes the topic so that he can focus once more.

“I should be,” he replies just soft enough for her to hear.

“Would you like a sandwich for lunch? My dad said often the guys don’t bring that much with them to eat, I wouldn’t mind making you a sandwich too?”

She’s not sure why she feels the need to take him in and care for him but she does. She wants to wrap him up in a hug and make his meals and tuck him in at night. He just has this aura that calls for love and she desperately wants to give it to him.

He leans forward and kisses her, she kisses back instinctively and reaches to hold his face. His cheeks are soft as she runs her thumb along the skin, she pulls back only to press a few more pecks to his lips.

“You're something else,” he whispers against her lips before stealing another kiss.

He’s sweet, he tastes like vanilla ice cream and she just wants more. She kisses him again and again, eventually licking at his bottom lip and desperately whining to make out with him. She hasn’t felt this needy since she was a high schooler, but something in Chip made her feel alive.

She is leaning so far into his space she might as well get into his seat too. She moves to kiss his jaw and down his neck and he’s nothing but hands as he feels all over her back.

“Do you want to come inside?” He whispers, scared but just as desperate as she is.

“I shouldn’t,” she says before continuing her trail of kisses down his neck.

She can’t leave any marks because her father will know, but she also doesn’t care. He’d probably just give him a high five and move on with his day. She wanted to be even closer to him, she wanted to sit in his lap and kiss him for hours just because she could.

“We don’t have to do anything,” he tries to persuade her, “it just might be more comfortable for this?”

“Alright.”

He holds her hand on the walk up to his apartment, she likes how much he already feels like hers. He shows her inside and before the door is even closed she’s connecting their lips once again. He moans into her mouth at the feeling of his back colliding with the door and her hands are immediately roaming his shirt.

He’s such a good kisser, he is gentle and soft, he isn’t overly eager and controlling. He lets her explore and slow it down as she presses in closer to him and his hands wander to her hips. She places one of her thighs between his and grinds herself even closer to him.

He’s hard against her hip and the prospect of sleeping with him is so enticing but she knows she can't, at least not yet. It would be too quick, she wants to just appreciate him like this. Her kisses trail from his lips to his ear and he’s still a whining mess, but he’s completely still as she sets the pace of her grinding. He’s not pushing her to do anything or move this along, he’s just letting her explore everywhere… he’s so different.

“I don’t want to have to do laundry tonight,” he whispers with a smirk, moving his hands down to block her from grinding on his erection anymore.

She just undoes his belt and pushes his jeans to the floor before resuming the same position as before, this time she pulls her dress up and rests the clothed tip of his cock in just the right spot under her.

He’s holding her closer again, his arms wrapping almost all the way around her as his big hands grab handfuls of her skin in a desperate attempt to be closer to her. She keeps kissing his neck, they’re more open-mouthed and breathy than she intends but he just feels so good under her.

No one has ever made her feel this desperate before, something about him made her want to devour him whole. His sounds were delicious, his skin even more so, she couldn’t help herself from nipping and sucking at his neck as he made more beautiful noises.

She was so close and she could tell he wasn’t far behind, “let go, Chip,” she whispers in his ear, “cum with me.”

She grinds down hard one final time and he’s a shaking, moaning mess. It’s the feeling of the wet patch in his underwear and the feeling of him shudder that sends her over the edge, panting into his neck as they hold each other close against the door.

He turns them around, taking her by the waist and manhandling her until she’s the one against the door. His lips are on her neck and it’s like his orgasm has only enticed him to go further, “you’re too good to me.”

“You deserve good things Chip,” she whispers as her hand comes up to grip his hair as he continues to kiss her neck.

“Let me say thank you,” he whispers as he drops to his knees and pushes her dress up as she reaches to pull it up for him.

She spreads her legs as he moves her panties to the side and dives in. Spreading her with two fingers he sucks her clit into his mouth first and she tugs on his hair so tight he moans against her. Sending another shockwave through her body as he built another orgasm up.

He’s so good with his mouth, her legs are quaking as she tries to stay standing against the door. She can feel him everywhere but it’s still not enough, she wants him deep inside of her but she knows it’s way too soon to even be doing this. She has never gone this fast with someone before but she couldn’t stop, he felt too amazing.

“Chip,” she chanted his name, tugging on his hair tighter to get him to moan against her and send her over the edge once again.

She ruts against his tongue, fucking his face as she rides it out and he is more than happy to keep going as long as she wants him to and it feels so good she might just stay there. But the twitches get too intense and the whine she makes lets him know she’s done as he kisses back up her body.

Supporting her against the door, he presses his body against her once more. Taller than her, he tilts her chin up so she can look him in the eyes, his chin and nose are glistening with her cum and somehow he’s still cute.

She kisses him on the lips quickly, “when I can feel my legs again, I need to head home.”

When she leaves, she just sits in her car for a few minutes as she settles even more. Then she heads to the grocery store on the way home to get nice things for his sandwich tomorrow, because any man who can make her cum twice in 10 minutes deserves the best sandwich.

—

Waking up at 6 in the morning to make sandwiches is normally a chore, she sometimes makes them the night before so she doesn’t have to worry and can sleep in, this morning she wants to put all the tender loving care into these lunches. Her dad has noticed, he’s eyeing her down from the living room as he has his morning cereal and she knows he wants to ask.

“I didn’t sleep with him if that’s what you’re wondering.” Her voice is just loud enough for him to shoot her a listening glance.

“Oh, but you’re making him a sandwich?”

“You should see his apartment complex,” her expression drops, “ and after the way he devoured dinner last night, I just knew he hasn’t been taken care of in forever. And he’s so nice?”

He smiles, “your mom did the same thing for me.”

“You’ve never told me the story,” she reminds him.

He gets up and walks over to the kitchen, leaning against the counter so they can look at each other. His expression is soft, he’s an overly kind man and it was the thing she loved most about him.

“Your grandfather and I worked at a company making refrigerators, I was new to the state and had nothing and so he brought me home for dinner,” he smiles at the memory.

“Her parents got divorced soon after and her mom was having trouble with the bills so I moved in and I helped, and every morning your mom woke up and she made me a sandwich as a thank you.”

“Oh,” she smiled at the recollection, they really were having the same little love story. “Well, I’m thinking about making fish for dinner, would you ask Chip if he likes it? I’ve invited him over for dinner after all his shifts with you.”

He laughs in a huff, he’s proud of her— and himself. He finally found a good one for her.

—

She outdoes herself for dinner. The food is amazing, the table is set, and she’s all dolled up for him. Her dad thinks it’s cute and he doesn’t mind being the third wheel, they all talk to each other like he’s been having dinner with them for years.

He helps clean up after dinner and her dad falls asleep watching Jeopardy in the living room like normal. She wraps her arms around his waist and rests her head on his back while he’s still doing the dishes, he’s still all sweat from work but she doesn’t care, she wants to give him a hug.

“What’s this for?” He whispers, placing a wet hand over hers on his stomach.

“Do I need a reason to hug you?” She counters.

“No,” he turns around in her grip so that he can give her a real hug. Wet hands on her back and everything.

She held him there, leaning against him as he leaned against the sink. His heartbeat was quick and he still smelled like sawdust and hard work, but he was warm and soft and it felt so right to just be there.

“Are you working with my dad tomorrow?”

“I will be for the rest of the month,” he confirms her hopes; he was going to be around often.

“Would it be alright if I asked you to stay the night?” She whispers incredibly soft for only him to hear.

He nods against her before taking her hand and leading her outside to the porch. They close the house door softly and then she’s back in his arms, “are you sure?”

She looks up at him and he’s even more beautiful today than he was yesterday, “I can take you back to your place to get some things? It would be nice to send you off to work in the morning.”

“You’ve decided that I’m yours now, haven’t you?” He teased her with a smile, perfectly fine with that.

She nods again, “you could move in tomorrow if you wanted, I’m not sure what’s possessed me to take you in like this, but I really don’t want to let you go.”

He delicately places his hands on her cheeks and pulls her into a kiss, it’s soft and short and he’s quick to look at her again.

“You can have me,” he whispers, “forever, if you want.”

It makes her laugh, “that's the sweetest con you know, you promise yourself to me forever and yet you have no idea if you can stay that long.”

He nods in agreement, “what if I promise my hardest to stay?”

“Okay,” she smiles again, leaning forward and kissing him again, finally.

—

The month is coming to an end and he’s slept beside her almost every single night, and even with that, they’re still taking it slow. They go on dates on the weekends, they make out in her car, he drives her to work, she kisses him at the door every morning he stays with them and they’ve done almost everything but have sex together.

They didn’t feel the need to yet, everything that was leading up to it was fun and interesting. She’s enjoyed sneaking around with him to get each other off back and forth, like an adult game of tag.

She’d blow him in the car on the way back to his apartment after dinner, or he’d come and pick her up after a shift at the diner only for them to end up making out in by the back door, and his hand always ended up in her panties. It was an interesting month of getting to know each other, but she wanted more now.

Her dad is going out of town on a fishing trip with his buddies this weekend, she’s booked time off and Chip has no idea what is in store for him. She plans a dinner, she gets all dressed up for him, there are candles and music and it’s perfect.

He’s amazed by the whole thing and she can really tell he’s been mostly alone for his whole life, he looks at a simple home-cooked meal like it was a million dollars and he was beyond grateful for everything. He almost cries he’s so thankful for the time and effort she puts into taking care of him.

He goes to pick up the plates and bring them to the kitchen as soon as their meal is over, “ah, ah, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Cleaning up for you?” Chip answers with a nervous tone that she hasn’t heard before.

“Don’t you want dessert?”

“I can bring it out for you, stay there,” he offers and then frowns when she stands anyway.

“You’re looking at it,” she whispers as she enters his space.

She takes the dishes from his hands and places them on the counter before wrapping her arms around him, “my dad isn’t going to be home until Sunday night.”

“Oh,” he whispers back before his hands reach for her ass and he’s picking her up.

Her legs wrap around his waist and she grips his shoulders for dear life as he hurries them up the stairs and towards her bedroom.

He’s incredibly strong for such a skinny guy, although he was filling out the longer he knew her. He makes it up the stairs and through her door as she gets a head start at kissing his neck until he has her pressed against the door.

“What’s with you and doors?” She teases as he rests her back on her feet, she draws him in closer to her so their chests are pressed together and she can look up into those sweet honey brown eyes.

“I’m just impatient.”

“Too bad, baby,” she teases, “I’m making you take your time with me tonight.”

“Yes ma’am,” he responded with a smirk, “I’m here to please you,” he whispered as he leaned in more.

Attaching his lips to her neck he kissed towards her ear, “to thank you,” he took a fistful of her hair and moved it out of the way before kissing down towards her shoulder. “To show you how much I appreciate everything you do for me.”

She pushed him back enough to get Chip to stop kissing her neck, instead, pressing her lips against his. Kissing him deeply before running her tongue across Chip’s bottom lip as a request to make out with him.

Making out with Chip was something she did often, yet it felt like not enough every time. His plump lips and velvety soft tongue, soft touches and rough stubble rubbing against her chin and cheeks.

He smelled like oak after a storm, it was warm and electric and delicious. She dipped her face into the curve of Chip’s neck and took a whiff before attacking him with open-mouthed kisses.

He giggled, his hands her hips now, the pads of his fingers going up and his nails trailing back down over the fabric of her dress, the perfect motion to make the hair on her body stand up.

She reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it up, separating from his neck so she had room to pull it off of him before reconnected their mouths. Kissing him deeply then pushing him onto the bed, watching Chip get comfortable before she crawled on top.

They wasted no time getting back into the groove of things, tongues clashing and hips grinding, soft moans in each other's mouths, hands roaming everywhere. She reached between them to undo his belt and the button of his jeans so his dick wasn’t rubbing against the zipper. Making out like that was some of the most fun she ever had, she could do it for hours on end.

She pulled back, kneeling above Chip, she grabbed his open belt and pulled it through all the loops and chucked it towards the floor. She massaged her hand over the bulge in his pants as she got closer to his crotch, watching as Chip threw his head back to moan.

She fiddled with the waistband, wanting to pull them down, Chip lifted his ass up ever so slightly for her to do so, she pulled his pants and boxers all the way off and threw them to the floor as well. Spreading Chip’s legs and taking him in her hand, finally. She dipped down ever so slightly and licked the tip and he let out a beautiful cry as his hips bucked. She loved his noises, she loved seeing what new ones she could make and he was more than willing to show her.

Chip gasped and reached out to grip her hair, she took that as an invitation to suck his dick, she wrapped her mouth around the tip, slipping her way down as far as she could go before bobbing back up. It was slow and sensual, she made sure to cover all of him; jerking what didn’t fit in her mouth, dipping down even further to kiss his balls and suck one into her mouth.

The people she’s been with before had never been reactive, they either gave her praise or roughly directed her deeper and deeper till she choked. Chip was different though, making soft noises that sounded like ‘yes’ and ‘god’, his little gasps and stutters of breath were the cutest things. It just encouraged her to do it more.

She pulled off, looking up at Chip who was just staring at her softly. If she knew anything about giving a blowjob she knew what her face probably looked like.. eyes blown out in passion and lips swollen bright red. It was a sight he loved to see, his hand slipped down to cup her cheek and then down to his chin where he used his thumb to brush her bottom lip.

“Beautiful,” he whispered.

She crawled back up and sat on his hips, taking the hem of her dress in her hands and pulling it over her head. She was wearing a nice matching underwear set for him, nothing too fancy because she knew it would just end up on the floor anyway.

She leaned back down, attaching their mouths once again, he wrapped his arms around her back and slowly rolled them over safely. Now on top of her, looking up into Chip’s eyes was a blessing. He blinked a few times, making sure it was real and he wasn’t dreaming that the most beautiful girl in the world was looking at him like that.

“What do you want me to do?” He asked gently with pleading eyes that let her know he was desperate to touch her however she pleased.

“Make me yours, Chip.”

“I think you always have been,” he replied.

His beautiful sweaty curls drooping over his eyes, she smiled as she brushed them back. Petting his face softly as she looked at him, he was so beautiful. The light was bouncing off the wall just enough to illuminate him.

“How do you want to do it?” She whispered.

“Let’s just go where the rhythm takes us,” Chip’s voice dropped low as he did, pressing their chests together, close enough to kiss as he rubbed their noses together softly.

She kissed him, wrapping her hands around his neck and pulling him in more. He squeezed his arms between her back and the mattress, wrapping himself around her. he decided to reach into her panties with his free hand.

He took a moment to admire her chest, she had caught him staring before. He constantly used them as a pillow, he wanted to touch them so badly, so she leaned forward and let him unhook her bra. Pulling it from her body and towards the floor.

She could sense his hesitation, taking both his hands off her sides and guiding them to her breasts. He whimpered as he felt them, she closed her eyes at the feeling. A small moan escaping her lips as he groped her. His big hands felt amazing, so strong and gentle, rough and yet soothing. Perfection against her skin.

She leaned back against the bed then, leaving him sitting up on her hips. Her boobs flattening out into a funny shape as she laid back, making her smirk in embarrassment. Only making Chip love them more, diving in and kissing the newly exposed skin.

He dragged his bottom lip over her skin between kisses. Leaving a trail of where he’s been already. She had a hand in his hair, holding it out of his face as she watched him.

Panting as she tried to grind up against him, the arousal in her core was overpowering. She needed to feel more, she wanted all of him. She was addicted to him already, hoping she’ll have forever with him.

She was too hot, feeling the sweat gather behind her knees as she tried to find more friction against him. She didn’t mind all the exploring he was doing, it was a wonderful appetizer, but she was nowhere close to being full.

He pulled back then to sit on his knees between her legs before Chip slowly slipped her underwear off. Raising her hips softly before resting her ass back in his lap and spreading her legs.

Fully on display for him, she played with her nipples slightly. Knowing how much he loved her boobs, watching her with a slack jaw as his hands ran up her legs.

He snapped back into the moment when she pushed her ass down against him, a whimper slipping past his lips as he placed his thumb on her clit, rubbing gentle circles into the bundle of nerves.

With his pointer finger, on the other hand, he traced around her entrance, not pushing in, just exploring the wetness as it dripped out. She tightened up on command, seeing his breath hitch as his finger almost slipped in.

“Please?” She begged, arching her back more so that he could finger her.

“Can we try something?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, resting on her forearms as she leaned forward.

“If I lay back would you, um,” he couldn’t say the words. They felt too filthy leaving his mouth, pointing at his face instead.

She sat up then, pushing him back against the pillows and settling herself over his chest and gripping the headboard for support, Chip wrapped his arms around her hips and guided her forward more.

Her legs were already trembling in anticipation as she hovered over his face, feeling his breath right on her core, Without warning, he sucked her clit into his mouth.

“Fuck,” she gasped as she smacked her forehead against the blocked window behind her bed, hoping to god no one could see through the blinds.

He pushed one finger in as his tongue played with her clit. She couldn’t help rocking her hips against his face, helping him get deeper inside of her. He curled his finger, lightly fucking her with it as he sucked, licked, kissed her pussy.

She was a mess, shaking over top of him as she tried to keep her orgasm in. Not wanting to cum yet, wanting to feel all of him inside of her before she did that. So he added a second finger, making her cry out in pleasure against the window without even trying.

Her orgasm ripped through her as she fucked his face, holding his hair with one hand as the other steadied her on the headboard. She couldn’t believe how intense it was, almost knocking the wind out of her as she road it out on his tongue.

He smiled against her, kissing her clit once more before pulling out and helping her back towards his lap. She wasted no time hovering over his cock as it strained on his stomach.

“Do you want to?” She asked, trying to control her breathing but still looking like a panting mess as she anticipated him.

“I’ll always want you,” he assures her with the sweetest smile.

She wraps her arms around him and rolls them over once more, he adjusts between her legs and drags himself along her overstimulated clit, she shudders at the feeling and then laughs at her own reaction.

“Ready?” He whispered.

She nodded, feeling Chip push in, she reached for his hands where they rested on her hips and interlocked their fingers. He bottomed out and dropped to hover over her, bringing their interlocked hands over her head.

She reached up to kiss him, Chip pushing into the kiss and making her settle into the pillow once again. It honestly felt like a movie scene, a first time between two star-crossed lovers. He pulled out ever so slightly before thrusting in again, she gasped against his mouth.

Chip trusted more while she pushed her hips into it as well, an offbeat rhythm developed in pure ecstasy. She let go of Chip’s hands to snake them around his waist, to run her fingers over the soft and slightly chilled skin of his back. Feeling the bump of his spine as Chip ducked into the crook of her neck, placing kisses along her collarbone.

Chip changed the position of his thrust as he wrapped his arms under her, arching her back ever so slightly to reach the bundle of nerves that left her a quivering mess. Y/N, in response to the added pleasure, ran her sharp nails down Chip’s back and he groaned at the feeling, “do that again.” he requested.

“Like that?” She asked, dragging his nails down him once more.

“Yeah,” Chip moaned, dark and deep.

The feeling of pure bliss overtook her body with each thrust, warm chills ran through him with each brush of his thumb on her clit. Every kiss to her neck and squeeze around her waist made her feel like she was on fire.

The hairs on her arms stood up, goosebumps formed along his forearms. Chip kissed from her neck to her nipple and took the hard nib into his mouth causing her to moan like she never had before.

“Chip,” she panted, pulling Chip’s face back up to his.

His eyes were absolutely blown out in pleasure, those golden wonders he used to stare into were now replaced solely by the pupils. She ran her thumb across Chip’s cheek before reaching to the nape of his neck to pull him into another kiss. Open mouths pressing together, hot air on each other's faces as they panted to the pleasure.

She was in heaven.

Her orgasm bubbled in her stomach, “are you close?” Chip whispered right beside her mouth, kissing her cheek lightly after.

She hummed, unable to speak with the mass amount of pleasure coursing through her body. Chip fucked into her a bit harder, a tiny bit faster, hitting her g-spot dead on each time to the point the nerves in her thighs were quaking uncontrollably.

She was so close, Chip used 3 fingers to quickly rub over her clit before she threw her head back with a shout. Cumming with her eyes pressed shut, pleasure coursed through her body stronger than she’s ever felt it before.

Nothing had ever made her cum that hard, ripping through her like her soul was leaving her body. She dug her nails deep into Chip’s skin holding him close to his body while he kept thrusting.

A high-pitched gasp left his lips, close to her ear as his hips sputtered into her’s one last time.

She still hadn’t opened her eyes, her breath rigid, she felt winded. Chip had stilled as he came inside of her and then collapsed into her, deadweight laying on her.

Chip mustered enough energy to prop himself upon his arm and look at her. Using his free hand he ran his thumb against her bottom lip once more to get her to open her eyes.

“Hi,” he whispered.

“Hi,” she replied with a smile.

“You okay?” he asked.

She nodded, smile growing, “that was amazing.”

“Better than you hoped?”

“I’ve thought of doing this for the last month, I knew it would be amazing but I never imagined it would be that good.” she complimented Chip, “I think I died when I came, no joke.”

He laughed, dropping himself back into the crook of her neck. He kissed her more, up to her ear and across her jaw to her lips. Soft small kissed followed by a long-drawn-out one. Chip pulled their lips apart with a smack.

“Let me clean us up,” he said.

At that moment she realized Chip was still in her, soft and all. He pulled out slowly it was always such a weird feeling to be empty again. He sat up and made his way off the bed, he went to her bathroom.

Coming back still naked, his dick bobbing between his legs, she loved the view. He had a thing of baby wipes with him, knowing exactly where she kept everything in her bathroom by now.

“I can do it,” she suggested, reaching for them.

Chip pulled them back away from her, “I want to.” he said softly.

Running the cold wipe over her soft skin, Chip looked mesmerized. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you,” she replied with a shy smile, “can you come back up here now?”

He tossed the wipes onto her night table and cuddled right back into her naked body, she held onto him tightly so he wouldn’t escape. She knew he wouldn’t, but she loved him so much she never wanted to let go.

“I love you, Y/N,” he whispered into her neck. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same yet.”

“Are you kidding?” She laughed, pulling back so she could see his face as he looked up at her. “I think I’ve been in love with you since you walked in and said I was beautiful.”

He reaches for her cheeks and pulls her in for another kiss, “I’m going to love you forever.”

The words used to scare her, but now she looks at him and thinks they might be right for them.

“Forever it is, then.”

taglist: @g0lden-cth @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria@reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor @blanchardsbk @thatsonezesty13

[touyaspeach]

This is Home

Midoriya Izuku x fem!Reader

A/N ; it's finally, finally done. I've spent almost a week working on this and I think it's my favorite thing I've ever written. If you liked Blood and Syrup please give this a chance.

Warnings ; fem!reader, angst, mutual pining, lots of angst, izuku being bullied as a kid, pov switching, more angst, and a whole lot of fluff at the end Words ; 12.1k Special Thanks ; @katonshoko for beta reading, and @izuku-simpdoriya for not only inspiring this but giving me plenty of ideas!

You aren’t real. There is no possible way that you’re here, singing your heart out. For him. He doesn’t believe it for one second because how could you? How could anyone? As Izuku watches you in the common room, he’s the only one who freezes. The only one whose palms are sweaty, whose pulse is throbbing, whose heart is breaking.

Because you’re just so perfect. You’re so strong, smart, beautiful, and talented. You’re everything someone could aspire to be. He could sing your praises for an eternity and never run out of things to say. And here you were, singing the song you wrote for him, in front of your entire class.

And his heart was breaking.

The sun was bright and blaring above you as you rushed to school. It was your first day in UA’s hero course and if you weren’t quick, you’d be late. This was the culmination of a year’s worth of work, too. Studying and training and doing everything you could to elicit a transfer from General Studies.

You hadn’t been alone in that endeavor either. Your best friend, Hitoshi, had also managed to get in. Although you were a semester behind, you were so excited to see him again and meet all the soon-to-be heroes in your class.

It was the first day back after the winter break, and you hadn’t yet moved fully into your dorms since it was just announced a few days ago that you’d be transferred. Luckily, your parents were easy-going and had arranged to have all your belongings sent by the end of the week.

As you ran down the sidewalk, soles of your shoes padding frantically, you nearly tripped in your sudden attempt to stop. There was something laying on the ground just behind you that you’d skidded over, and when you turned back to analyze it your heart sank.

It was someone’s student ID. Specifically one Midoriya Izuku. Wasn’t that the kid from the sport’s festival? You looked over the ID and tried to remember his face. Either way, there was no getting in the gate without this, so you shoved it into your pocket and picked up the pace.

After a few blocks you were hurting. Your lungs were on fire, your legs burned, and the sun was directly in your eyes, causing you to close them as you bounded up the street. You should not have closed your eyes, and you only realized this when you harshly bumped into someone and sent the both of you tumbling down onto the pavement.

“S-Sorry! I’m sorry!” they shouted, frantically untangling their limbs from you as you rubbed the sore spot on your shoulder.

“S’fine!” you responded, “It was my fault! I should have watched where I was going!”

When you pried your eyes open, you were greeted with a scarred hand reaching down to you. You gratefully took the help as the person hoisted you up with minimal effort. You took a moment to brush your uniform off while they continued stuttering.

“N-no really! I was taking up too much of the path! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?” When you finally looked up at them, you had to swallow hard to keep from looking like a fool.

The boy was pretty. His fluffy, forest-green hair shone brilliantly in the early morning sunshine. His face was laced with concern that furrowed his eyebrows and had his mouth slightly agape. His cheeks were spattered in the cutest constellation of freckles, but it was his eyes that really captivated you.

Wide, expressive, and honest; and the most brilliant shade of green. They were beautiful. And you were staring like an idiot.

“Umm…are you okay?” he tried again, scratching bashfully at the back of his head.

“Oh!” you started, falling back a step. “Y-yes! I’m fine! I’m so sorry for….” Your voice petered off as the realization of who stood before you hit you.

“M-Midoriya!” You shouted, shocking the poor boy. He jolted and his brows knitted higher.

“Y-yes??” he stuttered, a slow blush creeping over his cheeks.

“You dropped this!” you quickly shuffled around in your pockets and presented him with the ID. “I found it on my way! I guess we must live close together since it was on my route.”

“Oh!” he laughed softly in embarrassment and took the plastic card from you. That soft little chuckle sent heat flooding your cheeks because it was so gentle and so angelic. Who was this boy that had your heart beating and your face flushing from just a tiny, insignificant interaction?

“Thank you so much! That would have been bad if I got to the gate and couldn’t get in on the first day back! I really appreciate it.” The smile he gave you was so bright you had to look away and study the ground instead. How was he so radiant?

“Y-yeah,” you kicked at some pebbles idly. Anything to avoid looking directly at the sun. “It’s no problem. I’m just glad I ran into you before you made it to school!”

“W-well, since we’re headed the same way, do you want to walk with me? I’m assuming you’re going to UA, too, since you’re wearing our uniform,” he said as you both started walking. You took notice of his large yellow backpack that looked stuffed full and his bright red sneakers that contrasted highly with the UA uniform.

“Yeah, I actually just transferred from the General Studies class,” you mentioned, stealing a glance at the boy.

“Oh, really? Where are you transferring to?”

“Actually, I think I’m being transferred to yours and Hitoshi’s class.”

“Wait!” he stopped in his tracks and whirled around to look at you, “Are you friends with Shinsou?”

You giggled softly at his enthusiasm. “Yeah, we were in Gen Studies together before he transferred. He’s the one who convinced me to keep working hard and to not give up.”

Izuku beamed, so proud of his friend. “That’s amazing! What’s your quirk? Do you mind if I ask that? It’s not too personal, is it? I try to keep track of everyone’s quirks because they’re just so unique and interesting! It’s fun to try and formulate different moves and ….” It was like his entire body slumped when he realized he was rambling again.

“S-sorry. Just ignore me. I have a bad habit of rambling on like that.”

Your heart sank, you had been hanging on to every word only for him to feel the need to stop so suddenly.

“It’s fun to try and formulate different moves and…what? Please continue!” You smiled at him, and his entire face violently turned red. So much so, that he wrapped both of his arms around his head and turned away from you. Midoriya stammered a string of words that were slurred and fast and you couldn’t understand them.

“H-hey…sorry,” you placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, “I didn’t mean to upset you. I love listening to people talk, especially when they’re as passionate as you are. I really want to know what you were going to say, so do you mind continuing?”

Midoriya relaxed slowly, peeking at you between his elbows to gauge the sincerity on your face. Too many times had someone urged him to keep talking, only to immediately tell him to “shut up, nobody cares you fucking nerd.”

But you were sincere. At least, your expression was, and he found himself drawn to the way you had gently encouraged him to continue.

“W-well…” he had fully straightened out now and you continued walking together. “I was just going to say that theorizing about what could be effective for different situations is fun. And it helps me to theorize on my own quirk too. I also enjoy helping others when I can, giving them ideas on how to use their quirks in ways that they wouldn’t normally consider. That’s why I wanted to know yours, too, since we’ll be in the same class. You’re the only person I don’t have any information on, so maybe I could help you, too!”

At first, he was hesitant to continue, but by the end he’d regained all the enthusiasm of earlier and you couldn’t help but to match his eagerness and excitement.

“Of course, I don’t mind giving you all the details! And I think it’d be a lot of fun to talk about different theories and stuff if we have time after classes. Er…if you’d want to, that is.” You trailed off. Why would such a kind, sweet boy want to talk to you so much, anyway?

“R-really?” his voice dropped, and he looked away from you. Actually, he looked all the way in the opposite direction to avoid you. “Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t even know your name, yet!” he started, all too eager to change the subject just as you were reaching the gates. He paused and extended a hand to you. “I’m Midoriya Izuku! B-but I guess you already know that since you found my ID!”

You reached out to shake his hand, bowing at the same time, nearly shouting your own name at him in your giddiness. He squeezed your palm gently, bowing as well before straightening out and grinning.

“It’s nice to meet you!”

It was over for him the moment you took the time to genuinely listen to his rambling. No, actually, it was over for him the moment you crashed into him and sent you both flying to the ground in a tangle of limbs. If he’s honest with himself, if he really thinks about it, you could call it love at first sight.

Izuku has had crushes before, but the one time he ever tried confessing…

The memories swirled in on him as he laid in his bed, arm draped over his stupid, weepy eyes. He was still in primary school, so young and so innocently naïve. He’d asked his crush to meet him after school and he’d even gone so far as to make them a little friendship bracelet themed after their favorite hero.

“I-I like you!” he blurted out, presenting the bracelet. His little eyes squeezed shut, his face red as a tomato, arm outstretched and shaking like a leaf.

His tiny heart broke into pieces when he felt his hand being smacked away, the bracelet landing unceremoniously in a puddle of mud, effectively ruining it.

“Why would I ever go out with a Deku like you?” they laughed in his face before shoving him aside, causing him to trip and fall in the same puddle as the bracelet. Izuku couldn’t stop the fat tears from rolling down his chubby cheeks, and instead of even prying himself off the ground, he balled up as tightly as possible and wept.

His clothes were wet and muddy. His hard work slapped aside and ruined just like his feelings. That was the first and only time he’d tried confessing. Why should he bother? Why should a useless, stupid, quirkless idiot like him even try?

It was just a crush. Izuku could handle just a crush, he’s squashed many of them down before and he could do it again. And the sooner, the better because he really needed to get his mind off of you and onto his training and studies.

You’d only talked to him a little bit, anyway, so why was his heart beating so fast at just the thought of you? There he is, once again, proving that he’s nothing more than a stupid, useless Deku. Not that you’d ever even look at him in that way. Who would?

His spiraling thoughts were his only company as he drifted off into sleep, and they tormented further as he dreamt of all the times he had his heart broken.

Your dorm was barren with only a bed and a desk, but it was comfortable at least. As you lay awake, trying to fall asleep, you recounted your day.

Aizawa introduced you to the class, and already they seemed like a fun, lively bunch of people. You were excited, too, but grateful when you were seated next to Hitoshi. The both of you exchanged a few words and smiles before homeroom started. He was comfort for you, things were always calm and easy with him and he offered you a little bubble of sanctuary during your first day.

Your eyes scanned the room while Aizawa droned on, finally finding that familiar tuft of dark green hair. You smiled fondly, remembering your interaction from earlier and making a mental note to get to know Midoriya more. He seemed genuinely interesting and fun to be around.

Hitoshi saw the look you gave Midoriya but bookmarked it for later. He was good at reading and assessing situations and he knew something was there, he just didn’t know what it was. Yet.

In the courtyard there is a large, old tree that provides the area with a grand amount of shade. Around the tree a bench has been built for students to relax and eat lunch on, and this is where you find yourself. You weren’t one for big crowds and the lunchroom was always rowdy, so you opted to take your breaks outside with your guitar.

Playing was something you did purely for pleasure. It was an outlet for you, writing songs and learning new things and channeling all the pent up and excess energy and emotions through music. But between training and studies you haven't had much time to practice lately.

So, you found yourself beneath this beautiful tree in early spring, surprisingly alone, with just your meal and your guitar. And you were so grateful to have a moment just to yourself on this gorgeous day.

You ate quickly, not really tasting it in your eagerness to finally feel those strings hum delicately beneath your fingers.

You didn’t notice a certain green-haired boy watching you from a window, admiring your peaceful and contented form as you strummed a song he couldn’t hear. You didn’t notice how his heart fluttered in his chest at just how badly he wanted to hear what you were playing. Would your music sound just as beautiful as your voice?

You didn’t notice as his friends pulled him away, asking a slew of questions.

The melody you played was a simple one, something you’d just strung together one evening and now used to get yourself warmed up. It wasn’t anything special, but it was familiar.

Lunch passed peacefully with you playing a few familiar songs and just relaxing in the warm spring breeze. The second half of the day was similar, and surprisingly didn’t differ much from your general studies course.

Still, despite this, you found yourself exhausted and retiring to your dorm room early, exchanging only small pleasantries with your new classmates. You were a little disappointed to see Midoriya had a late training session with All Might but couldn’t fault him for that.

And now you’re laying in bed, sleepless, homesickness gnawing at your heart and thinking far too much about the pretty green-haired boy.

The next day, Izuku had made up his mind. You’d been so kind to return his ID the day before that he had been thinking hard about how to repay you; and so he caught up to you on your way to homeroom.

“Hey! Y/N-san! Wait up?” he called out, jogging to catch up to you.

“Oh! Good morning Midoriya-san!” you greeted him with a wide smile. The morning sun must always be kind to him, you reasoned, as the soft light only accentuated the color of his hair and the softness of his features.

“Good morning, Y/N-san! How was your first night in the dorms?” you fell into pace beside each other. Talking with him always came so easy - so naturally.

“It was alright! Did you have a good night, as well?”

He nodded, “Yeah! All Might helped me with figuring out a new way to use my quirk! It was really awesome, he’s so cool! I still have a lot of work to do, and I’ll have to spend some time honing it, but it’s going to be useful if I can get the hang of it!”

“That’s great, Midoriya-san! I’m sure you’ll get used to it in no time!”

He chuckled softly and scratched the back of his head sheepishly at the encouragement. “Thank you! Hey, I actually had a question. Well...two questions,” he chuckled again.

“Oh? Sure, I’ll answer as best as I can!”

“I don’t have any extracurriculars after class today, if you wanted to tell me about your quirk. Would that be okay? I mean you totally don’t have to! But we’d talked about it before so…”

You looked over at him and beamed brightly. He was so cute, and so sweet, his enthusiasm was contagious. “Of course! Do you want to come to mine, or go to yours? Mine is...kind of barren at the moment.”

He blushed. Izuku hadn’t considered that you’d be spending time alone in one of your rooms for this discussion and he was still so nervous around girls, especially girls as pretty as you. He turned his head away from you to try and save his dignity. “U-uhm I uh… I don’t care either way! Whatever you’re comfortable with, Y/N-san!”

“We can play it by ear,” you giggled quietly at him. He was so endearing. “What was your other question, Midoriya-san?”

“Oh, right!” he straightened up, “Is there a specific food you prefer? My favorite is Katsudon! Do you have anything like that?”

You considered a moment, pulling your finger up to tap on your chin. “Actually, I really like Katsudon, too!”

“R-really? Okay! That makes it easy then,” he laughed again, “Do you mind if I eat lunch with you today, too? I wanted to pay you back for yesterday.”

It was your turn to blush. Was he offering to buy you lunch? “O-of course I don’t mind! I normally eat lunch alone but if it’s with you I think it’ll be fun!”

“Great! I’ll see you then, okay? I’m gonna fall back and wait for Iida-kun. Thanks for the chat!” he said and slowed his pace. Only once you were out of earshot did your words truly sink in. You thought… you thought eating lunch with him would be fun? Really?? His brain almost short-circuited at the thought, and his pulse quickened to send fresh heat flooding his cheeks.

You were impatient during classes, the thought of spending lunch alone with Midoriya making you way too giddy. You’d kind of hoped to get some more practice in, but how could you say no to his kind offer? You weren’t about to turn down free Katsudon!

Midoriya was quick to find you before lunch, somehow having already procured two boxed bentos full of Katsudon. You could smell the delicious food before the two of you had even made it to the tree in the courtyard.

“Thank you for agreeing to eat with me,” Midoriya said as you both sat down together, the bench was large enough that you could cross one leg beneath you to face the other while you ate, and that’s exactly what each of you did.

“Of course, it was your treat, after all! I couldn’t say no!” you beamed, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt to spend time with him. He grinned sheepishly as you unpacked your lunches and started eating.

“Ohhhh Midoriya-sannn” you moaned, “This Katsudon is delicious!!”

Midoriya blushed at your words and downright lewd sounds that you made, but hid behind his bento to recover quickly.

“I’m glad you like it! I made it using my mom’s recipe and she makes the best Katsudon ever!” he beamed proudly as your jaw went slack.

“Woah you made this? That’s amazing Midoriya-san! I could eat it for every lunch and not get tired! Your mom sounds like a great woman!”

The way his face softened at your compliment for his mother did not go unnoticed, however it did go unmentioned as you continued eating over light conversation. By the time you both were finished, lunch wasn’t even half over.

Once you’d cleaned up your meals, Midoriya pointed to your guitar case. You’d brought it along just in case, but secretly you wanted to impress him with your playing. Unbeknownst to you, he wanted to hear you play so badly, he almost couldn’t contain his excitement.

“D-do you mind playing for me? I saw you yesterday playing, but I would love to hear it!”

You were radiating excitement as you pulled your old, beat up guitar from its case and gave it a few experimental strums.

“Um… I don’t really know any popular songs, I usually just play whatever I come up with. Is that okay?” You asked, to which Midoriya nodded eagerly.

“Even better!”

And so you started playing, just some silly song you’d written about falling in love, but Midoriya was in awe. The way your fingers danced nimbly on the fretboard, your other hand alternating between strumming and plucking effortlessly, and your voice. Oh your voice was everything he’d imagined it to be.

Soft, melodious but strong when needed. It was the best thing he’s ever heard; and in that moment he knew just how out of his league you were. In that moment, beneath this beautiful tree in the early spring breeze, Izuku felt his heart overflow.

He’d already developed this crush on you, like an idiot. And now that he’s seeing you in your element, doing something so fucking amazing, he feels so small in comparison. But he can’t help still being so impressed by you. So much so that he’s grinning like a kid on christmas, excited and in awe and already so head over heels.

When your song finished he applauded and cheered loudly and enthusiastically, sending heat flooding your cheeks and a small smile gracing your lips. He urged you to play more, and the rest of lunch was spent with Midoriya happily listening to you and you happily playing for him.

And thus began a new routine. A few days a week Midoriya would spend lunch with you, listening to you playing and occasionally even singing along as he grew more used to the songs you’d written.

“Hey, Deku-kun, why do you spend so much time with the new girl?” Uraraka asked him one day.

“It’s not that you shouldn’t,” Iida chimed in, “it’s just...she’s pretty antisocial and we miss you!”

He chuckled nervously with a small smile, “Thanks guys! She’s actually really sweet, and I love listening to her play her guitar! Maybe you guys could join us some time and you can hear her play too! Actually, she’s not really antisocial, she’s just shy. She opens up quite a lot when she’s comfortable with you.”

Izuku missed the way Uraraka’s expression shifted slightly in annoyance, because why would anyone have a crush on him? He missed the way you looked at him, too. Nobody would ever look at him with adoration or admiration. Why would they? He’s just a stupid, shitty Deku, after all. So when he all but gushed about you to his friends, he didn’t realize that he could be hurting a certain brown-eyed girl’s feelings.

“That sounds like fun,” Todoroki mused, to which Tsuyu agreed.

“Okay! I’ll ask her tomorrow if she minds, though I’m sure she won’t. She’s really amazing!”

Of course the next day you agreed, getting to know Midoriya’s friends sounded nice and you’d barely had time to really get acquainted with your fellow classmates. Needless to say they were all really impressed with your playing, your singing, and even suggested the next time everyone was relaxing in the common room that you and Jirou collaborate on some stuff.

Another few weeks passed in relative ease, a routine finally settling in while you got to know your classmates more and more. You spent time with Hitoshi and Midoriya as well as Jirou and Uraraka and fostered friendships with them. Hitoshi even joined you occasionally for lunch when he wasn’t busy continuing to take supplementals from Aizawa.

By the time midterms rolled around, you were comfortable, confident and happy with your new life in UA’s top hero course. Unfortunately, you were lagging behind just a bit in your Mathematic studies, but luckily you could think of one, freckle-faced cutie that could help you.

It was hard to find time to spend with Midoriya. It seemed like he was always too busy. Between extra lessons with All Might, internships, group study sessions, late-day training, and of course your classes he just didn’t have much time. Once he was back in the dorms he usually passed out pretty quickly.

“M-Midoriya-kun!” you shouted, running after the green-haired boy who was on his way to meet with All Might after classes. The sun was slowly lowering in the sky, casting everything in bright afternoon light. He stopped and turned to face you as you caught up to him, panting a bit.

“You still walk really fast, haha,” you said breathlessly and continued without letting him respond, “Midoriya-kun I’m sorry to bother you but … I was wondering the next time you were free… if you could help me with my maths preparation? It’s the only class I’m struggling with and I want to make sure I’ll do well on midterms.”

He smiled softly at you, that same gentle, sweet smile he gave everyone, “Oh! Sure! Umm...I’ve got some time on Friday after classes if you want? Should we invite some of the others?”

“Ah..I was kind of hoping it could just be me and you, it’s easier for me to understand things when there aren’t a lot of people around,” a light blush tinged your cheeks and you suddenly found the trees on your right very interesting.

“O-Oh,” he didn’t mean to stutter, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the thought you’d want to spend time alone with him. “Sure! That sounds good, I’ll bring some snacks?”

You gave him the brightest smile he’s ever seen and just the sight of you had a lump forming in his throat and his heart fluttering.

“I’ll make sure we’ve got drinks then! Thank you so much, Midoriya-kun!” you bowed slightly and then bounced off, leaving him alone and watching you go with such longing in his heart he thought he might burst.

He was going to have a study date with you. Well, it wasn’t a date. But you were studying alone together and that was close enough, right? It was as close to a date as he would ever get, he reasoned anyway. So he should let himself enjoy it.

But why was he feeling so...so dejected?

Izuku thought back to the first time he was asked out by someone. He had just entered middle school, small and lanky, hair even fluffier than now, when he was approached during free period by a girl in the class beside his.

“Midoriya-san! You’re really cute, let’s go out?” she’d said, a smile wide on her face and her eyes shining brightly.

Izuku has always been quick to blush, unable to handle even the smallest compliments. This is because he’s spent all of his life around people who took pride in bullying and belittling him, so whenever someone offered a crumb of kindness he melted. Throwing both of his hands up to his face to hide his red cheeks, he mumbled his response.

“I-i-if you’re sure! That would be nice!” he’d responded, a bit too enthusiastically. Maybe this time, finally, someone actually wanted him. Maybe she’d seen through his shy, nerdy, quirkless exterior to the real him. The boy that wanted to be just like All Might, who was determined to save people with a smile, even if he had no powers to speak of.

That hope was squashed the moment that cute, innocent facade broke and the girl barked a cruel laugh at him. “Oh my god, you really fell for it! You really think anyone would go out with a quirkless loser like you? Hah! Pathetic.” she scoffed and seemingly from the woodworks a flood of students were suddenly crowded around him. All of them laughing and pointing and making awful remarks.

All he could do was crouch into a little ball, covering his head with both arms as tears streamed down his face, not for the first time. The jeering and taunting went on for what seemed like ages as he just sat there and cried, until finally they got bored and left one at a time.

Then he was alone and crushed and he swore to himself he’d never fall for that again.

But he really was stupid. Because he did fall for it again. And again. And again. Because no matter how he knew that every time it was a joke, his stupid heart just longed to be loved. Just wanted to feel accepted and liked for once in his life. And every time it broke him just a little bit more.

So, no, it wasn’t a date. But you seemed nice enough and he really, really enjoyed spending time with you. You just had this way of making his whole day brighter and any chance he got to get to know you more, he’d take it.

This was fine, he told himself. It’s just a crush, and you’ve had those before. You just gotta not clam up when you’re alone. Just be casual and help her with math. It’ll be easy, right? You should be grateful that she even wants to spend time with you.

Friday came too quickly, Izuku realized. He’d spent so much time playing and replaying scenarios in his mind, over and over until it drove him insane. What if you did like him back? What if you tried to make a move? He couldn’t handle it, just the thought of holding your hand or brushing your knees together made his whole body heat up.

He was not ready. And as he stood outside of your dorm, his hands were shaking and clammy, his knees were wobbly, and he could not swallow the lump in his throat. He gripped the straps of his backpack tightly to try and ease his nerves but it did little.

Izuku was not prepared when your door flung open and you came crashing into him on your way to his dorm. Izuku was not prepared when he automatically cradled you to cushion your fall, landing you directly on top of him. Izuku was not prepared at just how long the two of you stayed wrapped up in each other on the hallway floor.

His head was spinning, dizzy from the impact; one arm was secured tightly around your waist while the other cradled your head protectively. You were folded neatly against his chest with your legs falling between his. You should have been focused on recovering from the fall, but you were too focused on how good it felt to be wrapped up in him like this. Too focused on the warmth beneath you and the slow breaths that made you feel so at home.

Izuku, on the other hand, was panicking. The moment his brain processed what happened he all but combusted. Here you were nestled against him, on top of him, the smell of your shampoo intoxicating as he held you so close. Too close. You were too close. Oh god why weren’t you moving? Were you okay?

His mind raced with all kinds of possibilities, but he didn’t move. When he replayed the scene over and over in his head later, he realized that he’d never been so close with someone before. Especially not someone he had a crush on. And he didn’t move because he wanted to savor it for as long as possible.

Because there wouldn’t be another chance. Not for him. He wanted to cling onto this moment for as long as possible because he knew that the only way anyone would want to be this close to him was from an accident like this. And so, even if it was silly and uncalled for, he wrapped his arms just a little bit tighter around you, his eyes fluttering closed and unshed tears swimming behind his lids.

You didn’t mind. Not one single bit, and you heard Midoriya’s heart flutter when you nuzzled just a little deeper into him.

“Thank you for catching me,” you whispered after a long moment.

“Of course.” was his only response.

It was your heart’s turn to do flips because when his voice came out it was so low, so thick with emotion, and so soft…

“We should...probably go study…” you mumbled.

“Yeah...probably,” he chuckled gently, and released his hold on you, allowing both of you to stand.

“I’m sorry about that. Are you okay?” he asked, blushing slightly and looking at you with concern.

“Please, I’m the one who ran into you, are you okay?”

He nodded and smiled then, “Oh, yes! Thank you for asking!”

The silence that followed was awkward, and so you quickly whirled around and strode back into your dorm. You missed the way his expression fell the moment you looked away, and the way he hastily wiped a few stray tears from his cheeks.

The unofficial study date turned into several more unofficial study dates. The two of you staying up past curfew because neither of you wanted to part became such a norm that even Iida started overlooking it. Because you were just studying.

And it’s true. No more awkward moments happened after that first night. You spent some time telling Midoriya about your quirk, a lot of time studying the classes you were both struggling with, and even some time just talking about anything and nothing.

Being with him was as easy as breathing. You felt safe, comfortable, and welcome with him around and you slowly started spending more and more time with the freckled boy. Since his group had made a habit of joining you for lunch, your classes and training, and now your unofficial study sessions the two of you grew closer and closer.

Midterms passed with ease, the extra studying paid off as you passed with flying colors, and before you knew it summer break was just around the corner.

“You know I think there’s a festival right in the middle of our break,” Tsu brought up during lunch one day, “my family is helping with some of the booths there. We should all go together!”

“That sounds like so much fun!” Ochaco beamed, “I really want Takoyaki!”

“I agree! Summer festivals are such an important part of our culture. We should all attend!” Iida chimed in.

Shouto looked to you and Midoriya, “Will the two of you join, as well?”

“W-well, sure! I’ll talk to All Might and make sure I can get some time off from my training for it!” Midoriya smiled brightly, as always.

“If Midoriya-kun is going, then I’ll go too!!” you stated eagerly, already imagining the yukata you’d wear for the occasion.

“It’s settled then! We’ll all go together! I’m so excited!!” Ochaco said, “Oh! I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before now, but let’s make a group chat so we can plan more hangouts.”

“That’s a great idea, Uraraka!” Iida pulled his phone out and everyone else followed suit. Numbers were exchanged and the groupchat was made.

Over these weeks of getting closer to you, Izuku had spent more and more time awake at night, buried in his thoughts. He’d come to terms with his crush on you quickly, and he thought he could squash it down just as quickly. But gods, he was wrong. He was so stupidly wrong.

Trying to stop liking you was like attempting to tame lightning. Like trying to reverse the rotation of Earth. It was impossible, he realized. He was in too deep and the more time he spent with you, the worse it got for him.

He considered putting a stop to it for his own sake. His heart ached for a love it could never have, for a relationship that would never be. But he couldn’t do that to you, and you’d be so hurt and confused and then he’d either have to lie or explain this mess. Izuku wanted to do neither. And so he let himself be hurt.

It wasn’t your fault and not once did Izuku ever blame you. After all, he was the one who caught feelings and couldn’t extinguish the tiny ember of hope that maybe one day you’d like him back. It was so stupid, and he knew it. He was stupid. Stupid, shitty, Deku.

At least he wasn’t quirkless anymore.

His heart was hurting but there wasn’t anything he could do. It’s not like he’d ever confess. Why would he? There was no possible chance of anything good coming from it.

Izuku remembered the last crush he had, before you. He knew better. He always knew better. But even through countless jokes and rejections he still just wanted to be loved. He still just wanted someone to look at him with those dewy eyes he saw in films, to want to kiss him, to want to be with him. Who doesn’t want to be loved? Of course he wanted it.

He’d developed this crush in his final year of middle school, but by then he’d learned his lesson. He knew they wouldn’t like him back. He knew they didn’t even look at him. So he tried his best to ignore it, only watching them from afar and enjoying the handful of interactions with them.

But he couldn’t win. Never. Because some of his classmates caught on to the way he’d blush when in proximity to them, the way he’d steal glances from time to time. And so they labeled him a stalker. Making fun of him, poking at him, calling him awful names. He should be used to it, but they were wrong. He wasn’t a stalker! Not even close!

Izuku spent the rest of the semester being bullied twice as hard; shoved into lockers, locked in the bathroom, pushed aside in the hallway; as well as a slew of verbal insults. He knew from the start he never had a chance with his crush, but the way they now looked at him with so much disgust and hatred destroyed him.

Izuku laid in bed, face buried into his pillow, and tried to swallow the lump in his throat. He tried to cry. He tried to get those feelings out, but no tears would come and so he curled in on himself, tucking his knees to his chest and his arms around himself.

The next “incident” happened at one of your last unofficial study dates before finals. It was late- way later than you normally stayed, but you both were trying to cram as much as possible so that neither of you would have to take supplementary courses over the summer. By this point you were in so deep you’d do anything to feel just that tiny bit closer to him.

The opportunity arose over a math equation, and you took the initiative to scoot closer to him to watch him work it out step by step. You got closer, closer...too close. But Izuku was so focused on making sure he did everything correctly for you that he didn’t even notice until he finished. He sat up straight and turned to look at you to see if you understood when he found himself face to face with you, so close your noses brushed together.

Both of you blushed intensely at the close contact but neither of you moved away. You were captivated by his beautiful green eyes, and he couldn’t stop stealing glances down at your lips. Slowly you leaned just a bit closer and Izuku had to bite the inside of his lip to make sure that this was real. That this was happening.

He watched as your eyes fluttered closed, as you tilted your chin just a little until he could feel your breath ghosting over his lips. There is no way. No possible reality in which this wasn’t some cruel joke being played on him. Surely the moment he leaned in and pressed his mouth to yours you’d pull back, laughing at him and calling him awful names.

Right?

But this was you. You’d only ever been kind to him. You’d only ever had sweet things to say to him and Izuku was convinced you didn’t have a mean bone in your body. So maybe….just maybe….

His own eyes fluttered closed as he bridged the gap between you, pressing his soft lips against your own gently. He did not miss the way your breath caught in your throat, or the way that you leaned in just a little more.

The kiss was short, and sweet, and he pulled away first, too quickly for your liking. You expected to see a blush dusting his cheeks, maybe hear a hastily stammered apology. You did not expect the look of pure sadness that clouded his features.

“M-Midoriya-kun? What’s wrong…? I’m sorry if… if I took things too far…” you laid a hand over his where it rested on the table and he avoided looking at you.

“It’s not funny,” he said softly.

“What do you mean?”

“This prank. It’s not funny. That was my first kiss, you know?”

“Midoriya, it wasn’t a prank. I wanted to kiss you.” you did everything you could to catch his attention, to make him look at you. When he finally met your gaze, you smiled softly at him which only made tears pool in the corner of his eyes.

“Why?” was all he managed to choke out.

“Because I like you.”

That’s all it took for the tears to spill over, to come flooding down his freckled face and drip onto the material of his sweatpants. You were quick to cup both of his cheeks and wipe those tears away.

“I like you. It wasn’t a prank. I promise, Midoriya-”

“Izuku.”

The smile you gave him at the correction had him pulling you into him, had him wrapping his arms around you and nestling his face into the soft skin of your neck. His tears burned against your flesh, but you held him close, petting his hair and letting him get it out of his system. Your heart broke for him.

What could have happened in his life for him to think this was a joke? A prank? What has he gone through that had him so convinced?

“Izuku….” you whispered after a moment. “Can I… Can I kiss you again?”

Your crush lifted his head finally and held your gaze for a moment. “A-are you s-sure? You want to kiss me?”

“As long as you don’t mind that it’s me?”

He chuckled softly then, and pressed his lips against yours once again. The kiss this time was easier, just as slow, but more sensual. He pushed further into you, one arm around your lower back to support you from falling, and the other hand gently resting at the base of your neck. You found purchase by wrapping yourself around his shoulders and running your fingers through his thick hair.

Izuku pulled back with a smile and immediately dived back in to capture your sigh with his lips, pushing you further and further back until your back was on the floor and he was on top of you. Arms still wrapped around each other, bodies pressed together, you were in heaven. It felt so good to be swallowed up by him.

Izuku was feeling the same. This was the first time in his life he felt wanted. That he felt … loved. You really did want to kiss him. And a lifetime of being shoved aside made him greedy, and so he wanted to steal your breath away, kissing you over and over and over until you were both panting and blushing.

His heart stopped at the sight of you beneath him. You were so fucking beautiful, and that cute expression you were making was because of him. He didn’t deserve this. And he wasn’t totally convinced it wasn’t some sick joke or a prank you were pulling.

It was hard when he pulled himself away from you, helping you back up into a sitting position. It was hard when he choked on the words that swam around in his brain. It was hard when he saw the way your face dropped, the way your shoulders sagged.

“We shouldn’t have done that.”

“Wh-why?”

“Can we just pretend like it didn’t happen? I think it would be best for both of us. You don’t want people to think you like me.”

“But I do like you!”

“You shouldn’t.”

And with that he stood, making his way to the door and opening it. “I think you should go.”

Izuku’s heart was breaking, having to turn you away. His heart was breaking watching you leave and give him that confused look over your shoulder as he shut the door in your face. His heart was breaking because that just confirmed everything he was scared to admit.

He was in love with you. He’d spent the entire semester getting to know you, listening to you play and sing, studying together, eating together, spending weekends together. He’d spent the entire semester slowly falling in love with you, and now he was kicking himself.

Because this still had to be some joke. It had to be. There’s no way in Izuku’s mind that someone like you would ever give someone like him the time of day. You were incredible, in every facet. You were strong, beautiful, intelligent and kind. Everyone in your class loved you, and you’d even made friends with Shinsou. That was hard! Hell, even Kacchan tolerated you. Todoroki seemed to be opening up more and more with you around.

Your kindness and radiance just had that effect on people - especially him. And he was in love with you. And you were going to regret it. It wasn’t fair to you, you shouldn’t have to burden these emotions for him. After all, at most you had a crush on him. But he...he was in love.

You deserved so much more than him. So much more than the shitty useless kid who only just got his quirk and whose body is still hellbent on destroying itself. Somebody who didn’t have to train twice as hard just to get half of the results. Someone who was just better.

His heart was breaking, but you’d be over him soon enough. He couldn’t let you get any closer, because he knew he couldn’t take it if you ever got sick of him. If you ever left him once you realized just how awful he was.

Izuku collapsed on his bed, leaving textbooks and notebooks and pencils and paper sprawled all over the room. He didn’t even bother turning the lights out as he buried his face in his pillow and wished he could cry.

All he had was numbness.

You, on the other hand, were scheming. You knew enough about him and his past to know that he was probably just feeling insecure, and so you made up your mind to prove to him that you liked him. That you liked him for him, that it wasn’t a joke and that you were serious.

That night you stayed up entirely too late writing frantically in your lyric book.

Finals came and went, and you and Izuku established a new normal. He kept his distance while still maintaining a friendly relationship, but you weren’t nearly as close as before. He was doing it on purpose, and you knew that. He was trying to keep you from liking him.

Well, he’d soon learn it was too late for that.

There were two weeks left before summer vacation, and you’d finally finished your song. And since Izuku had no idea what you were up to, you decided to do a trial run during lunch one day.

“Hey, Izuku-kun, I’ve got this song I’ve been writing, do you think you could tell me how it sounds?”

“O-oh! Um… Sure?” he sat on the bench that you’d all but claimed as yours and started eating his lunch as you played.

Izuku was conflicted. The song was beautiful, your voice was beautiful, just like always. But… Why did you want him to hear it? Why did you want his opinion? It was weird, but maybe you’d already moved on. Yeah, that was probably it. This song was meant for whoever was lucky enough to have your affections, and that someone wasn’t him.

Once you finished and looked at him expectantly, he faked as genuine a smile as he could.

“It’s beautiful, Y/N.”

“Really? Do you think I got the emotions across well?”

“Yes, you did a very good job!”

And that was the end of the conversation.

The song didn’t come up again until the very last day of the semester, when you were all crowded in the common area. Your bags were packed for the vacation, and you were plucking idly at your guitar, waiting for the right opportunity.

“Hey, Y/N,” Kyoka called over the bustle, “You’ve been working on a new song right? You should play it for us before we all leave for the break!”

The crowd hushed, excited to hear you play and Izuku sat nervously on one of the couches. Was this finally it? Were you finally going to sing that song for the person you liked (that obviously wasn’t him?)

Once everyone had settled, their eyes on you, you spoke, “I wrote this song for the boy I like. Well...more than like. He’s sitting in this room, and he’s heard this song before. I played it for him without him knowing who it was for, and now he should understand. So, I just want you to know that you stole my first kiss and with it you stole my heart. This is for you.”

You aren’t real. There is no possible way that you’re here, singing your heart out. For him. He doesn’t believe it for one second because how could you? How could anyone? As Izuku watches you in the common room, he’s the only one who freezes. The only one whose palms are sweaty, whose pulse is throbbing, whose heart is breaking.

Because you’re just so perfect. You’re so strong, smart, beautiful, and talented. You’re everything someone could aspire to be. He could sing your praises for an eternity and never run out of things to say. And here you were, singing the song you wrote for him, in front of your entire class.

And his heart was breaking.

He’d been so cruel to you, pushing you aside, avoiding you on purpose, all because he was scared to love you. To be loved by you. As he watched you, tears bloomed in his eyes and he didn’t even try to stop them from spilling over.

But how did he know it was for him, anyway? You could have played it for literally anyone else and he wouldn’t have known. Just because you were his first kiss, doesn’t mean he was yours. He wanted it to be about him, god how he did, but he just couldn’t be convinced on your words alone that it was.

By the time the song had finished, his tears had dried, and the class erupted in applause. All around him were whispers about who it could be about, and his heart broke even further.

Izuku excused himself early, and that was the last you saw of him until the festival.

It sucked, you’d been texting him at least once a day since summer break started, but he could never bring himself to respond. It was better this way, right? Maybe you could use this time to either get with the other guy, or get over him. If it was even him.

Why would it be? He’d spent the entire time so far thinking about his own faults. How useless he felt, how stupid he felt, how inferior he knew he was. Even his training with All Might wasn’t enough to keep his mind occupied.

You were starting to lose hope. He’d left you on read every day, didn’t say goodbye before the semester ended, bolted before you could see his reaction to your song. Maybe you took things too far? Maybe...maybe you shouldn’t have done that. Maybe you should have given up on him after he kicked you out that night.

But the way he’d cried because you kissed him….the way he clung to you as if you would disappear at any moment… you couldn’t just move past that. He deserved another confession. A true confession. Not just some accidental thing in the heat of the moment, and so you steadied your resolve to do so at the festival.

Shouto and Iida had come around to visit Izuku the day before the festival, they missed their friend and he’d been acting strangely distant lately, so they wanted to make sure he was okay. Or provide support if needed.

“So, are you going to tell us what happened with Y/N?” Shouto asked almost immediately. Iida was quick to hush him, to tell him to save it for later, but he was met with a blank stare. “The sooner we figure it out, the sooner things can go back to normal. That’s what we all want, correct?”

“Well...yes. It just feels brash bringing it up suddenly…” Iida trailed off and they both turned their gazes to their green-haired friend.

“What do you mean? Nothing happened?” Izuku tried, but the looks from his friends told him that they weren’t going to give in until he spilled it.

Izuku decided to trust them, not that either of them were any more experienced, but because it had been eating him alive the entire semester and he just needed an outlet.

“So,” Iida recounted, “You think you’re in love with her, and you’re worried she might feel the same way?”

“No, it’s more like Midoriya is afraid of not being good enough to deserve her loving him back,” Shouto corrected.

“Y-yeah….But I’ve tried to get over it and I just can’t seem to. I don’t know what to do, and I’m so nervous about the festival tomorrow. I haven’t even talked to her since the semester ended.” Izuku sat on his bed, twiddling his thumbs and studying the floor.

“You should tell her how you feel,” Shouto said.

“I have to agree with Todoroki on this one, you might not ever get over these feelings if you don’t at least tell her that you’re feeling this way. And maybe you’ll end up together after all. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Iida took a seat next to his friend and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “You should give it a shot, at least. It’s obvious she likes you back since she kissed you first.”

“I-I guess….” Izuku wasn’t convinced, “But I’m just so in love with her, if… if things go wrong I don’t think I could handle it. If she rejects me I don’t think I’ll survive….”

“You don’t know unless you try, though,” Shouto shifted forward to look Izuku in the eyes from his position on the floor, “Isn’t it better than not knowing, since you can’t seem to get over her on your own. If nothing else it’ll be closure.”

Izuku considered it. Confessing at the festival would be pretty romantic, right? Under the fireworks, you in your yukata, cicadas singing in the background. He could already picture it. If things went well...maybe you’d let him kiss you again.

The fire of hope that Izuku had spent all semester failing to extinguish burned hot in his chest and he had nothing but his friends to thank. They’d come all the way here, knowing something was wrong and convinced him that maybe this thing with you wasn’t such a bad thing. Maybe… maybe you’d let him love you.

The night of the festival you were a bundle of nerves and excitement. The yukata you’d chosen accented the color of your eyes well, and had a light, summery pattern that was perfect for the season. You adored dressing up when you could, and you hoped that Izuku would be there to see just how cute you looked.

Maybe you’d get to see him in a yukata, too.

You pulled out your phone and texted the group chat, Tsu and Ochaco were already at the festival, and Iida offered to walk with you since your house was on the way. You were not prepared when you opened the door to see three of your classmates waiting on you.

Iida wore a dark blue striped yukata that fit him really well, Shouto wore his casual clothes, and Izuku… He wasn’t looking at you. That was the first thing you noticed. The second thing you noticed was that he looked...good. Well-rested, a small smile playing on his lips, hair tousling gently in the summer breeze. And the yukata he wore was a plain forest green, tied with a bright red obi to match his ever-present sneakers.

The way you were captivated by him was not lost on the other boys and they shared a knowing look before Iida cleared his throat.

“Are you ready to proceed?”

“O-oh!” you gasped, snapping out of your stupor. “Of course! Let’s go!”

The four of you walked for a while and you, Iida and Shouto chattered easily. Izuku was all but silent until you stopped by a konbini for some drinks. Shouto insisted that he and Iida run in alone, since it would be less crowded, and quickly left you and Izuku alone.

He stood by the street, staring up at the early evening sky. The breeze rustled his hair and yukata in a way that made him look ethereal. You found yourself, once again, captivated. It had been so long since you’d seen him that you just couldn’t stop yourself from drinking him in every chance you got.

“Izuku…” you said quietly, trying to get his attention for the first time in what felt like ages. He looked at you over his shoulder, eyebrows furrowing and a light blush tinging his ears.

“Can we.. can we talk. Just for a moment?” you moved to stand beside him, a respectable distance away but close enough that your conversation would remain private. He didn’t move away, so you assumed it was safe to continue.

“It’s okay that you didn’t want to talk to me, I’m sorry if my texts were annoying. I just missed you and wanted to make sure you were doing okay...L-look if I did something wrong…”

“You didn’t,” he cut you off, and it was the first time you heard his voice in so long that it was music to your ears. “I just… I needed some time, okay?”

He turned to face you, finally, and it was like all of the worry and anxiety had melted from his face. He gave you a small, soft smile that had your heart soaring.

“Yeah, sure. O-of course. I’m sorry for being so persistent,” you also turned to face him, and his breath caught behind his teeth.

You were gorgeous. This was the first real look he was getting of you in your yukata and it could not have been a more perfect match for you. His eyes widened slightly, butterflies swam in his belly, blush rose to darken his freckled cheeks. And the way the breeze picked up a few stray strands of hair from your traditional updo and tossed them around your face…

He was so in love with you.

“You’re beautiful…” he whispered just as a car drove past, louder than his words so that you missed them completely.

Iida and Shouto exited the store before you could even ask what he said and the four of you continued on. The ramune they had bought was refreshing in the heat, and it was like all the tension between you and Izuku had melted. Conversation flowed easily as you planned everything you wanted to do.

Once you arrived and met up with Tsu and Ochaco, you started exploring the festival. Shouto’s first request was to have some nagashi somen, so you crowded around the bar and got to work. Catching the noodles was harder than you expected, and many laughs were shared as you all struggled for your meal. Iida was surprisingly good at it, though, and by the end of it he and Shouto were catching noodles for the rest of you.

Next up was the shateki booth. Well, there were several of them, but this one was western themed. You, Tsu, and Ochaco tried first. The game was simple, shoot at the prize you want and if it falls over, you win it. You zeroed in on a kanzashi that matched your yukata almost perfectly. It was sealed in an acrylic box so that it could be easily knocked over.

It was not easily knocked over, you realized as you went through all five of your shots. You hit three out of the five and it seemed like no matter what you did you just couldn’t get the damned thing to fall over.

Ochaco actually won a cute little pomeranian doll that she thought would be funny to give to Bakugou.

Next up were the boys, but you were pulled away by the delectable smell of a rolling taiyaki cart. You told Tsu you’d be right back as the boys grabbed their guns, and you set about buying a few taiyaki for everyone. Three azuki, one sweet potato and two matcha. That should be good for everyone to have something they like, but you secretly hoped you’d be the one to have the sweet potato.

Your attention was drawn back to your friends when Ochaco and Tsu cheered and applauded. Someone must have won something?

“Hey guys! I got taiyaki!” you smiled and handed them out while whomever won the prize was given their reward. Iida, Tsu and Ochaco each took the azuki ones, Shouto and Izuku took the matcha, leaving you with your preferred sweet potato. The six of you ate your treat excitedly and the easy conversation overshadowed all thoughts of shooting and prizes.

Next up was the goldfish booth, you all decided just as the sun was starting to set. The entire festival was now cast in a beautiful yellow-orange glow, and it was Izuku’s turn to be captivated.

The way you excitedly tried to catch the goldfish with the flimsy paper cup, your laugh when you got splashed with a little water, the sunlight bouncing off of your hair and your face and…

If he could take a snapshot in time, he’d stay in this moment forever. Just admiring you. Just loving you for all that you are.

Shouto and Tsu managed to catch a few fish, and she offered to bring them to her family since they could take care of them.

Next was the bon odori, and you weren’t too keen on joining in. Ochaco convinced both Iida and Izuku to participate though, and Tsu excused herself to meet with one of her family members. Leaving you and Shouto alone to watch the dance.

The two of you waited in comfortable silence for a while before he broke the quiet. “Are you angry with him?”

“With who?”

“Midoriya.”

“Why would I be angry with him..?”

“He told us about what happened between you, and about how he’s been ghosting you.”

“Oh.” You shrugged, “I mean. I’m hurt, but I’m not angry. I don’t think I could ever be angry at him.”

“Do you like him?”

Like an idiot you responded automatically, because once again your eyes caught sight of familiar fluffy hair and your brain all but shut down, “I love him.”

Shouto smiled, though you were too distracted to notice.

Once the dance was done, you all decided to get some dinner before the fireworks show. Izuku suggested the yakitori stand you’d passed a while ago and you all agreed that it sounded delicious.

Once the yakitori was secured and several skewers later you were all full and excited for the fireworks. Iida and Shouto were in on Izuku’s plan, so they ushered the others ahead while Izuku hung back with you.

“Hey, so…” Izuku stopped and you turned around to face him while the others continued. “I know this place that’s usually pretty empty. It would be the perfect place to watch the fireworks, if you wanted…”

“Of course!!” you blurted, all but bounding up to him in your excitement. If it meant you’d get a moment alone, then it could be just what you were waiting for : a real confession. Truthfully you didn’t know if you’d ever get the chance since he’d been avoiding you since your kiss, but this could be the right time.

He chuckled and finally - finally gave you that smile. The one that had your heart pounding in your chest, your head swimming with nothing but thoughts on how radiant he was. The smile that was brighter than the sun that you couldn’t get enough of. You found yourself smiling right along with him as he offered you his arm.

Heat flooded your cheeks at the notion but you looped your arm through his anyway, resting your other hand on his bicep.

This felt right. Having you close like this during the summer festival on your way to a secluded place to see the fireworks where he’d finally confess to you. It felt right. It’s like all the worry and doubt from before was lifted from his soul as Izuku walked you out of the festival and down a winding forest path.

Eventually, you made it to a small cliffside that overlooked the entire festival. From your vantage you could see all of the booths, the stalls, the people meandering their way to the main showing area. Distantly you could hear the music that was intended to go hand in hand with the fireworks start up, and above you stars glistened and twinkled in the night sky.

But beside you was the most important part. Beside you, staring out at the beautiful scene was the boy you were in love with. Fluffy hair tousled gently by the breeze, yukata perfectly fitting, eyes shining in the starlight. He was so beautiful, and you wanted to kiss him again.

You recalled your first and only time kissing him. The feeling of his lips against yours; soft, supple, inexperienced but so, so sweet. The way his hands held you close, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you in as if you were his last lifeline. The desperation in those kisses that told you just how touch-starved he’d been. How love-starved he’d been.

Izuku noticed you staring. He noticed the way your eyes lingered on his lips with a soft blush on your face. He noticed the way you swallowed hard when you realized just what you were doing, but still couldn’t tear your eyes away.

You made him feel like he was the only person in the world that mattered. And Izuku could only hope that was true, because that’s how he felt about you.

You were broken out of your stupor at the first string of fireworks. They rocketed up into the sky, exploding in brilliant colored lights and sparkles, matching the beat of the music. It was beautiful, and you were far enough away that the sound wasn’t too bad. You could easily talk over it without having to raise your voice.

This was it. This is the time.

You turned to Izuku, who was already looking at you. The gentlest smile playing on his sweet lips, eyes slightly lidded, and so much emotion swimming in those emerald eyes, all directed at you.

“I love you!” “I’m in love with you.” You spoke in unison.

Your eyes widened, your face turned a bright red as you realized exactly what he had just said. Izuku wasn’t much better, cheeks darkened and shock dancing in his features.

All of the confidence from before suddenly vanished, and his hands started shaking. He felt tears prickle in his eyes for the first time in so long. Did you just-

“I love you!” You said again before he had time to overthink it. “I’m- I’ve been in love with you, Izuku, for so long! That song was for you! I wrote it for you, and played it for you! And… and when you left without even saying goodbye, and you didn’t return my messages… I thought… I thought you hated me. B-but you deserve a real confession!” You took a step towards him. Fireworks boomed and crackled in the distance, painting the world in glorious colored light.

“You deserve a real confession and not some stupid love song! So, I love you! Izuku! I’m in love with you!” By the end you were shouting, your blood was pumping, all of the emotions you’d been struggling to show spilling from your lips in honey-sweet words that had Izuku’s mouth drying and his heart hammering.

He took a step towards you, and you were now so close you could rest your head on his chest if you wanted. Though, the distance between you felt miles long.

“Do you mean it…?” he mumbled, looking down at you. The tears in his eyes threatened to overflow at whatever answer you gave.

“I don’t think I’ve ever meant anything more than that.”

Slowly, as if you were made of glass, Izuku brought one hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing small circles over the plush skin as tears streamed down his own. His bottom lip trembled, and you could feel just how badly he was shaking.

“Are you sure? About m-me. It’s really me that you l-love?” He swallowed hard, craning his neck just slightly to be more on your level.

“It could never be anybody else, Izuku.”

You snaked both of your arms around his waist, pulling him into a gentle embrace. He responded by doing the same, one hand at your waist and the other at the back of your neck just like the first time.

“I love you too,” he breathed into your hair, his eyes fluttering closed as he just enjoyed being with you. Finally, enjoyed being in your arms, your company, and knowing that it might just be okay to love you as much as he did.

“Can I kiss you, now?” you asked into his chest. He smelled delicious, a little like bergamot and amber, softened by the cottony smell of fabric softener. He drew back just enough to tilt your head at the perfect angle.

His lips locked onto yours, and it was like everything fell into place. He was just as soft as you remembered but there was a bit more confidence in the way his mouth moved against yours. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss as your bodies pressed flush together. He pulled back for just a moment - just long enough to inhale and make sure you were okay with this - before diving back in for an even deeper, sweeter kiss.

Izuku started dipping you backwards, causing you to gasp into his mouth which he took advantage of by darting his tongue across your bottom lip. Further and further back you were tilted until you had to hold onto him just to keep from falling. You flicked your own tongue out to meet his, and at that simple gesture a low moan rumbled deep in his chest.

It was like a new fire lit inside of Izuku when he finally tasted you like this, and he wanted - no he needed - more. His tongue gently found its way into your mouth as you worked in unison, massaging and exploring each other, neither of you in any hurry to separate.

But you did need to breathe, and after a while of pure, knee-shaking bliss, you parted. Both of you flushed and panting, eyes lidded and silly grins plastered on your faces.

“I love you,” Izuku whispered as he buried his head into your shoulder.

“I love you, too.”

[forestdragoncat]

WIP Wednesday

Was tagged by @undyingembers, so i guess i will post a translation of a tidbit from my most recent chapter of World of Quest fanfic "What I Sow I Shall Reap", because it WAS still a WIP on Wednesday :D Sorry in advance for my grammar ^^'

"Wait, you're the "diplomatic mission leaded by a royal bra-" in the very same moment when prince's eyes began to wide, Meriaen bursted into a coughing fit. It sounded pretty fake, "By His Highness, who told my parents to shove their money where suns don't shine?!"

"Alright, that's enough," Quest left the table in a decisive stride, "We should be returning to the business at hand, not chit-chating with some offsprings of an aristocracy."

The other members of the team, eager to leave the conversation which suddenly bacame awkward, followed his lead and went to the restaurant's exit. But someone decided to not back down:

"You have misunderstood me!" von Rithe Jr. rushed forward, blocking team's path, "I am actually in awe with you! Honestly, it is about time somebody told them off..."

"Yes, right after those somebody spent all day on completing the count and countess' mission and received absolutely nothing in return, because someone among those somebody suddenly decided to become pain in the butt, am i correct, runt?" Quest rudely, although not too hard pushed the girl away, clearing the path once again.

The runt in question looked like he wanted to say something, but haven't found the words yet, and then the time was up.

"Hey, who taught you to talk to a lady like that, you yok-?!" raged the girl in a way that was very similar to another high-born midget, before she abruptly stopped herself. Instead of crossing their path again, Meriaen simply tagged along with the team, "I propose a mutually beneficial exchange!"

"What, your allowance can buy a whole army, titmouse? I don't think so," said Quest without turning his head.

The girl pouted even more, but nonetheless continued:

"It's Meriaen. You see, i am, too, on a very important mission!"

"What kind of a mission?" suddenly inquired Anna.

Realizing that the team had almost reached the exit, von Rithe once again jumped forward, trying to slow down their advance:

"It's… a secret*! But!" Meriaen put her hand to her face, like she wanted to whisper conspiratorially, "I will share it with you, if you promise to take me with you to the Saywer's Sepulchre!

"Not interested. We already have one little girl and one little boy, we are out of space," the swordsman indeed stopped in his tracks, looking very displeased, and started to glare at the "interruption", letting her know that he won't stand here for long.

"I am not a little boy!" angrily shouted Nestor in a middle of this sudden hitch.

"Fine, we already have two little girls, see, we are filled to the brim," quiet chuckles, as well as angry snuffling, were heard behind the Quest.

"And if i say that it's about the dirty deeds of Their Excellencies and the discrediting evidence, that you, for example," the titmouse put her hands on her hips, elbows wide apart and raised her eyebrows, defiantly staring into the warrior's eyes, "Can use to put some pressure on them?

"What kind of a daughter turns in her parents just like that?" asked a completely stunned Nestor, when he stepped to the right side of his bodyguard.

"I suppose… a very dissapointed one, Your Royal Highness?" Meriaen spreaded her hands briefly before placing them back on her hips, "Besides… who in Odyssia even remotely likes my parents, except for them? And I'm also willing to pay you if it's necessary-"

Suddenly the tall doors behind her, despite their considerable weight, instantly swung open wide, and behind them the group saw the questers' missing member:

"Of course it's necessary, and I am signin up!" Graer's smile turned into an expression of confusion, and he scratched the back of his head with his paw, "What's need to be done, anyway?"

*Sore Wa Himitsu Desu!

[codecicle-archive]

Ok ok ok so HI! I know we don’t interact much, but I’ve got to tell you about this weird dream I had. Pretty much I was in a GameStop doin my thing when some blond teenager walks in wearing Philza merch (the blue Kilza shirt to be exact). And for some reason, I looked at this guy and thought ‘holy shit it’s Swagaythor!’ But I didn’t wanna just walk over and be ‘HI!!! We’re tumblr mutuals :D’

so I meandered over to the Xbox games, where you were, and made a comment about Philza to gauge your reaction, something about your shirt. And you just made a really confused sound, and when I looked over you were wearing a normal blue shirt? And we just stared and at each, both of us equally confused, and then you decided to just leave.

So now you’re storming out of the GameStop, and in a moment of genius I shout to you ‘i like your shoelaces!!!’ You stop, mutter ‘holy fuck’ and just LEAVE.

Dream-me is thinking over this entire interaction thinking that Random Blond Guy must have not been swagaythor, until on my dash I see that swagaythor made a post about some unhinged MCYT fan they met in a GameStop. I made a comment something among the lines of ‘funny story…’ and you blocked me.

Anyway the interaction felt so lifelike that I woke up and checked tumblr, making sure you didn’t make a post referring to me XD

that is the best thing i have ever heard in my entire life and you just made my entire day LMAO

I can't believe dream me blocked you though i would never, if someone shouted I like your shoelaces at me after making a joke about philza minecraft I would start shopping for engagement rings :]

Also I cant get over the fact that I'm blond. Why would I be blond. What God decided to torture dream me into giving up my naturally dark brown hair. I would go down to the deepest pits of hell before I walked out of the house with blond hair. Your unconscious should have at least given me dyed hair or something smh (/lh)

[tobi-momo]

You Belong With Me

PAIRING: Tsukishima Kei x Reader GENRE: Romance | Fluff | Angst (?) | Comfort (?) | Mutual Pining | Slowburn | Confession WARNINGS: tsukki has a toxic gf | cursing | ooc? | implied infidelity (not you or kei) | prolly more sry WORD COUNT: 2k A/N: this fic is HEAVILY based off of You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift- if you've seen the music video this is like it but my way 😌 uhh i hope you like it <3 oh also pls don't cringe it'll hurt my feelings

“What was she so mad about?” Your voice bleeds through his phone as he scribbles on his homework with his number two pencil, sighing at your question. He looks up briefly to his window to see you at your desk across your two properties’ filing the papers for your math class, organizing your work. Your phone is sandwiched between your shoulder and your ear, your eyes narrowed as you focus on what assignments are what.

“Kei?”

He shakes his head as his mind snaps out of the daze, his golden eyes flicking down to his work. “Uh,” he sighs as he re-grips his pencil, “I teased her a little bit and she got mad,” he finished. You chuckled before covering your mouth with your hand, finally looking up at the man through your clear panes.

“You’re kidding,” you giggle, a smile leading onto Kei’s face while he listens to your voice, although refusing to look up at your face, he shakes his head in a joking dismissal.

“No, I’m not. But we are never mentioning it again.”

“Oh, good luck getting me to keep quiet!” You shout as your back straightens against your desk chair, a smug look playing on your face once the blond male looks up at you.

He stands up, a reciprocating smirk laying on his lips before he says, “You will,” before he takes his phone away from his ear, pressing the “hang up” button and raising his arm to close the drapes. You laugh with satisfaction while you exit his contact, turning on some music and tossing your phone on your bed before cleaning up your area and strumming your fingers like an imaginary guitar.

He opened his curtains expecting to see you sulking while doing your work, only to see you dance like an idiot while you blast your music, your pencils acting as a microphone as you perform your concert in front of your stuffed animals. He could hear the music from across the yard, him identifying it as your shared playlist that you two made a couple years back, the duration over fifteen hours as about three-hundred songs reside. An accidental chuckle escaped him as his eyes rested on your jumping figure for just a couple seconds. It was for entertainment. Yeah. That’s it.

~.~.~.~

Sticking your fabric marker on the construction paper, you write out your message to Kei.

“I love you”. It was a message that would tell him that he deserves the best and nothing less. It was something that you treasured and wanted to share that value with him. Something that told him that he belonged with you.

You hoped that one day you’d be able to give it to him, to tell him how you really feel, to show that you can do a better job than her, but you never got the chance. Carrying the folded slip in your pocket, ready to pull out, his phone rings. As you sit on the bench on the side of the road, you wonder how long it had been since you had seen him really smile. You had made him smile a lot before, even if he doesn’t smile a lot genuinely, there are some times where real happiness seeps through his facade. You like it when that happens, always have. You noticed how much his happiness had reduced over the course of these last few months, though.

He answers the phone very monotone, very uninterested. He sounded obligated while he spoke to his girlfriend, sighing sharply once he hung up.

“What was that about?”

“Just drama. Kind of sick of it at this point.” He sticks his phone in his pocket, looking over to your concerned expression. “It’s nothing to worry about,” he says while rolling his eyes, placing a soft hand on your head and letting it rest. His hand retracted quickly when the sound of his name rings through his ears, his head whipping towards his girlfriend's figure. He readjusts his glasses, sitting straight up and swinging the strap of his school bag over his shoulder before he gets up and sluggishly walks across the street, meeting up with the one he was set to have a date with later. He subtly waved to you prior to turning his head away and continuing his stroll with his date hanging on his arm. You ignore the glare served your way when you wave back to him, forgetting the multiple reasons of why you wanted him away from her so he can enjoy his date. Hopefully.

~.~.~.~

As you stand on the bleachers of Kei’s game, you watch him stride over the court and jump to block the ball, a playful smirk residing on his lips as he sends the ball to the other side. You clap for him, shouting praises his way in hopes he might hear you over everyone else. Especially her. The screaming and unnecessary noise making your ears bleed a bit. You didn’t mean to be irritated by it, but the pulse on your forehead and the grit of your teeth made it painfully obvious you didn’t really like her.

When the end of the game hit, you were overloaded with joy at Kei’s victory. You hurriedly make your way over to him before gripping him tightly in a hug, not caring about the sweat that drips off his body. You could feel his arms flex as he raised his arms to hesitantly reciprocate your actions until his arms completely dropped, his body stiff.

“What the hell?” He muttered under his breath as he firmly moved you aside to walk away. Following after him, you let your head peek out from the side of his back, watching it all occur in front of you. “What’s this?”

“What? Nothing, Kei,” she mewls, setting her hands on her boyfriend’s shirt as if she thought he was silly.

“Yeah, we were just, uh, talkin’.” The man before her fibs.

“Not according to what I just saw,” Kei accuses the two with a furrowed brow, fed up. You come out from behind him, glaring at his girlfriend in hate. This was it.

“Don’t worry about it, man,” the man dismisses, turning to keep the conversation with her going.

Stepping forward, you place an arm in front of Kei, stopping his movements as you eye his girlfriend. “Tell me you were not just flirting with this man and we’ll leave.”

“I wasn-”

“Don't,” you pause, taking a deep breath as you watch her take a step back, “don’t lie to me, or you will regret it,” you threaten, a sharp glint in your eye telling her that you are oh so serious about this. Behind you, Kei watches as you make his girlfriend stammer on her words, a subconscious smile leaking on his face.

She stomps away with anger, the man beside her moving away as well, scoffing.

~.~.~.~

He didn’t say much on the way home; you trailed behind him as he walked away in part anger and denial. You didn’t really know what to say. Should you go back and find the girl and beat some sense into her? Should you give some words of the wise to Kei? Would he even take it?

As you watch him slow down to match your pace, you grow confused. You were headed to your place, so why was he suddenly following? “Kei?” He hums in response, his head hanging low. “Would you like to stay at my place? I can make coffee and we can stay up shit-talking our least favorite people,” you giggle and softly bump into his side, a stifled chuckle escaping him.

“Whatever,” he mumbles with an obvious smile as he continues to walk with you. When you quietly shut the door and take your shoes off, you softly tread to the kitchen to turn on the coffee machine- the man that you took home followed, his arm planting on the marble counter as his eyes trail over your moving figure.

As you sit on the stool next to him beside your kitchen island, you converse about the drama he’s been scooped in, him rolling his eyes twice a minute and his irritation level going off the charts as he recalls the events. He hated it, you could tell. He made it pretty obvious he wasn’t happy about it, too.

“Are you still going to the dance with her tomorrow then?” You speak curiously, twirling your fingers around each other while staring blankly into the marble as you awkwardly sit there, awaiting an answer.

It takes him a second to respond, a long sigh and a deep thought coming into play in his mind once he looks over to your spaced expression. Does he really want to go? Did he want to go with her, or with someone else- you? “Probably.”

Oh. “Are you sure you wanna do that? After what happened today?”

“Why not. Nothing better to do,” he justifies, shrugging. Yeah, you probably should have seen that coming.

The note that resided in your pocket seemed to crumple a little bit when you came to terms with the fact that he may never notice you the way you wanted him to.

~.~.~.~

“Are you going?” Kei asks over his phone as he takes his suit out of his closet.

“Ah, no,” you breathe out as guilt pools in your stomach, your elbow balancing sitting on your desk while dozing off into something that is not mathematical equations.

“Oh,” is all he says before telling you he needed to get ready, giving his goodbye.

After the call ends, you see the light fading away from his room as he closes the drapes, giving you a sign to start working again. You wondered what would happen if you possibly showed up. You originally were going to go, but the date that canceled soon beforehand gave your mind a gentle squeeze, telling you that the dance wasn’t for you. Still, the tiniest urge told you to make an appearance. You groan in waver, giving in.

~.~.~.~

You felt good. You felt really good. Wearing your planned outfit to this dance, you make your way inside carefully, minding the crowd. You catch the eye of the one girl that you held a grudge against, watching her grope another man on the dance floor. You roll your eyes in disgust as you move your head around to find a tall blond in the crowd. He leaned against the wall across from you his arms crossed while his dilated pupils trace the light that bounces off the floor.

“Hey,” you greet him, his attention whipping to you as he raises his head.

“Hi,” he reluctantly answers you while standing straight up, a relieved smirk leading onto his lips. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

“I didn’t want to put my outfit to waste,” you smile, spreading your arms to show your attire.

“Yeah, well you came at perfect timing,” he points towards his girlfriend which you identified earlier, although he seemed like he didn’t care all that much.

Gripping the folded paper in your pocket, you slip it out with two fingers confidently. “I have something to tell you,” you admit, your eyes staying centered on his black suit.

“Go on,” he eggs, hands staying at the side of his body while he watches you fluster yourself. It takes you less than a second to shove the note in his stomach and turn around, your face turning hotter and hotter every moment. Your hands lay against your cheeks as your nerves rattle beneath your skin, your ears tingling when you hear a sweet chuckle glide against his lips. “You should have told me a long time ago, Y/n. I wouldn’t have to deal with,” his eyebrows turn up as his head tips towards the dancing figure just a couple of feet away from you guys, “...that.”

You turn around slowly, disbelief covering your face when you look at his smug expression. “Are you kidding me? You’re telling me this,” you gesture at the both of you with your pointer finger, “could have been something a long time ago?”

He sucks in through his teeth, taking a grip on your arm and pulling you with him as he walks through the crowd to the middle of the room. “Yep. Guess you missed out.”

“Says you,” you roll your eyes with attitude as you pick up your pace and place your hand in his.

He knew he belonged with you, he was just wondering when you would admit that.

aaa here it is! three days of work! sry i havent been posting lately ive been working <3 (reupload bc tumblrs a little bitch)

REQUESTS: OPEN

reblogs are VERY appreciated!