#but he stank the most

[isthatapuppydog]

Cont.

[cator99]

i wass confused because you said your roommate called you “he”

my housemates also call each other they them yet somehow manage to understand which cross-sex hormones they'd have to inject in order to grow facial hair

[russellius]

STANK FACE AND FINGER GUNS, I'M TATTOOING THIS ON MY EYELIDS

[sanyu-thewitch05]

[daisies-on-a-cup]

*with the intention of conveying hate and malice and evilness*: mwah, love you!

[cannibalcreeps]

Strange that One-eye is the softest of all the brothers but is HIGHLY capable of being so deranged and savage. Sweet but insane.

I find his softness is from how naïve and curious he is compared to his brothers, he's very capable of being viciously cruel but given an opportunity, can also be gentle. Why he was so willing to take food from the people who had trapped him and his brothers in a cage (WT4), along with why he was petting Carly (WT1) he's simply curious Doesn't mean he'll trust people straight away, or at all, he just doesn't think ahead and is more a simple-minded man that lives in the moment. Though out of his brothers, you'd have a much higher chance of manipulating him to like you enough to not kill straight away, you just need to be quick on your feet and confuse him enough.

[kenobihater]

sometimes i encounter that million+ word regularly updated mc.u mall fic when browsing the archive and just.

[visenyatargaryen]

wanna know what daenerys/targ stans and s*nsa stans have in common? we're both obsessing about dany/the targs

[teapartyprincess4two]

Talkative- M. Sturniolo

pairing: Yapper!reader x Boyfriend!Matt

classification: SFW & NSFW headcannons

inspiration: request

warnings: some 18+ content, use of y/n, established relationship

summary: head cannons of Matt with a talkative, yapper girlfriend!

Talkative- C. Sturniolo (Chris’s Version)

Talkative- N. Sturniolo (Nick’s Version)

—

☆ SFW

It’s no secret that you love to talk, you can ramble on about topic after topic and never run out of things to say. Matt loves listening to you, whether you’re retelling your day or just discussing a topic you find interesting.

☆ you always ask him rhetorical questions in between your stories, “Okay, but can you believe she said that?” But you never give him enough time to respond.

☆ he just nods his head and hums in response, confused with all the characters of the story.

☆ when you’re watching a movie you always start asking questions about the characters or commenting on the scene.

☆ “why did they do that?” or “wow that’s a cute dress, I really like that.”

☆ most times he responds just so you know he’s listening, but other times he’ll ignore you because he’s too immersed in the movie.

☆ “Y/n I don’t fucking know, this is my first time watching this movie too,” and “That is a cute dress, baby. You’d look nice in it.”

☆ you’re ALWAYS last to finish your meal, mostly because you keep talking in between bites.

☆ he listens intently, responding in between mouthfuls of food with small “uh huh’s” and “yup’s.”

☆ by the end of your stories you’re usually not hungry anymore, so he eats your leftovers while you start yet another story.

☆ when you guys go through drive throughs he knows to just sit as far back into the drivers seat as possible.

☆ you’re leaning over him, chatting with the worker and somehow managing to learn their whole life story before you can even order.

☆ or when you’re going somewhere new and he needs the GPS you’ll constantly talk over it

☆ after missing like five exits, he begins to find it annoying

☆ “Babe, shhhhh,” he’ll smother your mouth with his hand while he grips the wheel with the other.

☆ that never stops you though, you just mumble from behind his hand.

☆ you’re such a good story teller that he can imagine everything you say.

☆ your stories have him dying of laughter, and it’s even funnier that you don’t laugh, you just continue telling the stories like normal.

☆ by the end of your story his face and ribs hurt from laughing so much, “Holy fuck that was hilarious.”

☆ when you say outlandish things he stares at you in shock, “Y/n! You can’t say that!”

☆ you just stare at him blankly and continue voicing your opinions.

☆ he looks at anyone who tells you to shut up with the ugliest, meanest stank face.

☆ you talk to EVERYONE whether it be in the checkout line in the grocery store or in the waiting room at the doctors office.

☆ Matt just turns away for one second and then when he looks back at you, you’re talking to an elderly lady and walking in the complete opposite direction.

☆ “Aw Matt, she said her cat died.”

☆ “Y/n, the cashier asked for your card.”

☆ “Oh, right! So sorry about that-”

☆ “You know what? I’ll pay for it,” he cuts you off before your rambling can distract you again.

☆ on the odd days that you’re quiet, he’ll know somethings wrong.

☆ you’re just sitting on the couch, scrolling through Netflix on the TV or typing away mindlessly on your laptop.

☆ “What’s wrong with you?” he says abrasively, like if he’s upset that you’re quiet.

☆ you’ll just shake your head, choosing to remain silent.

☆ “Did somebody do something to you? Why are you so quiet?” he’s ready to fight whoever made you upset.

☆ “I’m just tired,” you mumble, followed with a quick shrug.

☆ He doesn’t pry, he just lays with you and waits until your mood picks up so he can listen to more stories.

☆ if he ever starts telling someone a story you’re quick to interrupt, “no that’s not what happened!”

☆ he playfully rolls his eyes and lets you take the spotlight.

☆ NSFW

Although Matt loves listening to you talk, sometimes it becomes too much. So, he has to get creative and think of ways to shut you up.

☆ the movie is getting good and you won’t stop talking, asking about the characters and the storyline.

☆ next thing you know you’re on your knees with Matt’s dick in your mouth.

☆ he’ll let you do all the work as he continues to watch the movie in silence.

☆ sometimes you’re a little too friendly with strangers.

☆ Matt’s not usually the jealous type, but he knows that guys get the wrong idea when you’re talking to them and that they mistake your friendliness for flirting.

☆ he’ll pull you away and take you to a secluded area, “we gotta go.”

☆ “Wait but I wasn’t finished talk-“

☆ “we gotta go, Y/n.”

☆ then he’s fucking you and making you talk to him through it, “C’mon, I thought you weren’t finished talking.”

☆ you’re forced to babble your way through it, each thrust fogging your brain more and more.

☆ other times he’ll let you use your words to praise him.

☆ like when he’s eating you out, he just wants to hear you say how good he’s doing.

☆ “Yes, baby, right there. You’re making me feel so good.”

☆ after, he’ll make you ride him and whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

☆ “You feel so good, baby. So big, I can’t take it.”

☆ your words are always enough to send him into a frenzy.

☆ he’s wrapping his arms around your waist and bucking into you until he cums.

☆ when you guys are done having sex, he’ll cuddle into your side and lay his head on your chest while you play with his hair.

☆ these are the moments when he talks and you just listen, only chiming in occasionally.

—

MASTERLIST

A/n:

YAP 🗣️YAP 🗣️YAP🗣️

thank you for this request I luv that I’m cementing my legacy as a certified yapper 😏

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

—

taglist: @nicksmainbitch @sturniololovers @mayhem-72 @worldlxvlys @gnxosblog @meg-sturniolo @creamoncreamoncream2 @mattnchrisworld @sanyi5 @lustfulslxt @whicked-hazlatwhore @tworosesblackthorn

note: if you want to be tagged in my fanfic related posts, you can access my TAGLIST and comment 💐

[cindol]

can I req jjk men as girl dad’s? Specifically nanami, toji, choso, or sukuna! :))

the jjk men as girl dads .

cw + — fluff, mamaguro!reader, heian era sukuna,

wc : 1307 words .

NANAMI KENTO .

the most girl dad ever. He’s lucky enough to get you pregnant and have three triplet daughters pop out.

He’s taught himself with YouTube and you how to do all of his daughters hair when you’re not available. If one of his daughter’s has trouble getting her hair done due to being whiney or something else he tries being negotiable.

“I know you hate it honey, but if you get through this I promise we can go to the park after with fuschia and yuki how about that hm?”

She’s whiney, but nods with a bratty look on face.“promise?”

“I promise.”

Nanami let’s his girls play with his face however much they please as long as it makes them happy and distracted. The thing that makes them stop is when you come through the front door with a gasp at your three daughters putting pastel chalk on his face.

“Girls! What are you doing to your poor daddy’s face?” you drop your bag rushing over while the girls are giggling with chalk in their hands while nanami sighs and chuckles at your worry.

Eventually they run off when you give a stern look while you use a napkin to clean up his face.“You really have such a hard time telling the girls no, baby.”

he has a soft smile on his face while you tend to his chalked up cheeks.“they’re my girls darling, I have to let them.”

CHOSO KAMO .

a better father than kenjaku could ever dream of. He knows what it’s like to have a father who looks at you like a bug, something less worthy so he treats his daughter Saiko the best he can with all his soul regardless of gender.

When she’s having trouble making friends in kindergarten he cheers her up with snacks and a goodnight bedtime.

He understands how emotions can be confusing for her too and in her late teens he’s fine with the mood swings and emo phase.

You just scoff when you’re taking her laundry basket after she slams the door. You’re walking down the stairs just baffled at your daughter’s recent behavior.“I never know with that girl I swear! It’s like your daughter just is in a permanent mood swing.”

choso chuckles.“give her a break baby. I think I remember you being like that when we were young don’t you?”

you hum, thinking about that time in your life with the laundry basket of jeans and white t’s on your hip.“guess you’re right there cho’. I use to be in a big phase of split dye as my hair color and you definitely couldn’t get enough of those pigtails.” you teased him at the end there making him nervously chuckle.

“Kenjaku would’ve had to drag me by the pigtails to get me to stop wearing them everyday. So give her sometime hm honey?”

You huffed, nodding.“ok but talk to her. She shares basically the same traits as you, she’ll listen better.”

Once it comes to it he takes Saiko mall shopping and gets to the route of the problem, boy troubles with her boyfriend.

“Boys are idiots sweetheart, take it from me and even ask your mother. There’s much fish in the sea in that highschool of yours.”

saiko sniffles but nods, choso wasn’t always the best when it came to girl advice but he made her smile and laugh.“Guess you’re right… He sniffs glue anyway.”

“I'm glad I haven’t met this ex of yours honey.”

TOJI FUSHIGURO .

He was glad when he had a male carbon copy of him and even happier to find out you were pregnant again for a third time.

This time he’d make sure he wouldn’t fuck it up and be there for his baby girl all the time. Even before she came into this world he was painting her room and decorating with you.

“Half and half toji?”

“Never know if she likes pink and blue baby, you can’t assume.”

He’s a protective dad in public grocery stores. He doesn’t just brush off some woman trying to touch his daughter Rina in her stroller just because she’s cute. He abruptly turns the stroller with a stank face making you nervously laugh but apologize to the poor lady.

“Toji! You can’t just be so rude to that poor lady for wanting to say hi.”

“Ain’t letting some random just touch my daughter. You’re crazy if you even think I would babe.”

It’s hard for him to be trustworthy to babysitters also. Even if your judgment is good he still chooses shiu to babysit his youngest daughter.

“Thought you wouldn’t even show.” he says it nonchalantly while handing shiu the giggling toddler.

“I’ve babysit two of your runts, I’m sure I can handle a third.” he makes a hiss when he feels rina tugging at one strand of his hair.“even someone as rough as this little girl so enjoy your night before she starts crying out for her papa.”

Toji’s brave enough when confronting another mother about her child’s bullying behavior towards Rina. He tries the passive route, a small “please teach your kid to be nice okay? Other kids are in the playground with me.”

When that doesn’t work and he’s met with an aggressive tone he matches the same energy.

“Ah great, nice to know where the damn kid learned to throw sand at someone. Nice speaking to ya”

toji doesn’t play about his daughter, at all.

GOJO SATORU .

He didn’t voice to the world about his daughter since he wanted her protected from the jujutsu world but megumi and you know exactly how much excitement was inside him from news of your pregnancy.

He’s glad when she doesn’t have any jujutsu powers or the six eyes, just a pretty face, her natural hair color with some white streaks in her hair.

When she’s a toddler he loved bonding time with her. Any free day he has off he’ll spend it with various mall shopping activities of getting lollipops and annoying nanami when he runs into him.

Seeing Megumi and her together also makes him grin. Be it that megumi is just watching tv and she happens to be on his lap but it still gets him happy.

Megumi just sighs at his sensei’s weird behavior while clicking through channels.“Jeez, you’re strange.”

SUKUNA RYOMEN .

The news that you were pregnant with his seed was good news. He didn’t show his excitement but a toothy grin with a hum was enough to know he was happy at the news.

Sukuna has never been one to care for labels. Any woman or man is just a meal on his platter when it comes down to it and any seed of his is automatically good.

Sukuna didn’t show it outside but he cares deeply for his daughter reira. He’ll let her crawl on his two available hands while his others are crossed, bite on his arms, anything that pleases her.

His favorite thing to do when it came to you and reira was have a small family outing with uraume coming along as preparation. He always picked a secluded area in a forest, sitting on the pink and white cloth with you and reira while uraume prepared wine and sandwiches to be splayed out for the three of you.

Sukuna doesn’t allow any disrespectful words about his daughter. Any maiden or butler whining or complaining near him makes him whip them into shape.

“If you really find caring for my offspring to be such an inconvenience perhaps I should have you removed.” and they all knew what he meant when he said removed in the tone he did.

[andypantsx3]

READY OR KNOT | 1 | TODOROKI SHOUTO x READER

SUMMARY: Todoroki Shouto is so unsettlingly beautiful, you’re certain he has to be an omega. That is, until a chance encounter with a pushy alpha reveals you were incredibly mistaken—and the surprises don’t stop there. Shouto's suddenly mystifying behavior adds another layer of complexity to an already confusing inter-agency investigation. It would be so much easier to figure things out—and suppress your growing feelings—if only Shouto would stop being so strangely attentive to you... TAGS/WARNINGS: pro hero au, fem + afab reader, omegaverse, alpha shouto, beta reader, misunderstandings, courting behavior, slightly case fic-y, undertones of sexual violence (not between main pairing), aged-up characters, eventual smut, 18+ minors please dni! LENGTH: 4.6k, 1st of 7 chapters

Tetsutetsu’s apartment was exploding with people by the time you made it in from the cold.

Even from outside, you could hear the chatter of dozens of voices, the thumping bass of a distant party playlist. The front door was practically wedged shut by all the bodies blocking it, and you had to suck in a breath as you squeezed yourself through, slithering through what seemed to be every single employee of the Pink Riot agency—a plethora of bulky pro heroes stuffed in among lanky support techs and sleepy-eyed case analysts.

Inside, it stank of warm beer with a slightly sweeter, sharper liquor undertone. Your nose wrinkled. You could only imagine what the scent was like to your alpha and omega coworkers, grateful you had a beta’s dulled sense of smell, and no innate reaction to the physical proximity of other secondary genders. The space was already almost overwhelming as it was, the press of people nearly claustrophobic, although no one else looked like they minded much.

You shoved yourself through the crowd, squeezing through people, somewhat regretting how late you’d gotten here. You hoped there was still something good to drink.

In your defense, you’d gotten bogged down with a bombshell of a new case at the agency, something Mina had pulled you aside to talk about on your way out to the party. She’d meant for you to pick it up Monday, as you couldn’t take any action until a supervising hero had been assigned to you. But it was so unlike any other case you’d been handed in your years at Pink Riot that you’d immediately yanked your coat back off and holed yourself up at your desk, poring over the information in shock.

The case file told you that there was a rogue pro hero harassing and assaulting the omegas in Bunkyo ward—the very ward the Pink Riot agency operated in.

What was more, local authorities suspected someone from the agencies within Bunkyo itself, considering the attacks were exclusively confined to the ward and had so far never deviated. The police had been alerted to the fact that a hero might be involved when one of the omegas who had been attacked last night had escaped, shaken but untouched, and reported their aggressor attempting to strap quirk suppressors on them—tech that was almost exclusively a tool of the heroics trade.

And so all Bunkyo-based agencies had been asked to internally investigate their heroes, with mandatory out-of-agency supervising heroes to be assigned to the cases as well, to ensure everything was above board and no cover ups were being staged. And you, as Mina’s personal friend and therefore the case analyst she trusted most with a sensitive file like this, had been assigned the task.

And it was already almost too mind-boggling for you to bear.

You plowed your way towards the kitchen, eager to chase away the idea of any of your hero coworkers as the perpetrator. You liked and trusted all of the heroes Pink Riot had on call, and hoped so desperately that another agency was at fault here. You couldn’t imagine a single one of them being responsible for something like this. You couldn’t imagine the harasser themself attending this very party.

Once in the kitchen, you discovered that Tetsutetsu had invited more than just the Pink Riot agency itself—he had also apparently invited a plethora of heroes from his former UA days. Sero Hanta and Uraraka Ochako were propped up in the kitchen with Mina and Kirishima, smiling and chatting, while Iida Tenya stood next to them, looking, as usual, like he was on the verge of a hernia. Monoma Neita was skulking in a corner, along with a couple of lower-level heroes you recognized as Tetsu’s Class B friends.

Mina perked up immediately when she caught sight of you, hopping off the counter at Kirishima’s side, beckoning you closer with a hot pink nail.

“You have to taste this disgusting thing Tetsu made,” she told you gleefully, gesturing at something vaguely gelatinous on the stove. You recoiled reflexively, even as Mina ladled a generous portion into a plastic cup for you, passing it over.

You did not like the weight of it in your hand—and the smell of it, even to your duller senses, was not exactly appetizing, more nail polish remover in profile than anything.

“Wow, this looks almost as lovely as the new case file. How generous of you,” you intoned, taking a small, investigative sip. The taste zipped down your spine all the way to your toes, so alcoholic you could almost taste an emergency room visit.

But it figured. Pro heroes in general were a hard bunch to get drunk, their metabolisms fast and their bodies honed to withstand limits a normal person could never. You imagined this was Tetsu’s own invention based on years of personal research.

Mina sloshed her own cup at you, bright-eyed as she normally was, but otherwise looking unruffled. “Tetsu and Eiji already have a bet going which of them can put back more of this, but my bet is on me,” she grinned. “They’re behind a cup already.”

You winced. “Such responsible agency heads I have.”

Mina practically cackled. “You love it.”

You couldn’t help the fond smile that pulled at your mouth, listening to her bright laughter. “I do.”

And it was true, after years at the Pink Riot agency you were spoiled for anywhere else.

Your caseload was broad and interesting, Mina and Kirishima the perfect amount of invested but trusting, always caring about the results you brought in for the safety they brought Bunkyo ward, but never micromanaging you or demanding the impossible. The agency was a little bit smaller than other agencies founded by members of their former class—a mid-sized, fairly-closely knit operation that prioritized action and minimized bureaucracy.

And it was a sort of family operation. Mina was an omega, small and bright and totally beautiful the way so many omegas were, the warmness of her personality like a magnet. And Kirishima was her bonded alpha—fairly friendly and easy-going for one, you thought—but strong, firm in his resolve, and deeply committed.

You liked them, liked their relationship, and liked how their traits translated to their management of their joint agency. You liked how the agency had basically sprung up around them, filled to the brim with good people. And so yeah, Mina was right. You did love it.

“Make sure you unwind,” Mina ordered you, flashing a pink nail in your face. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that it’s been like two hours since I saw you disappear with that case file.”

Your cheeks heated. “Did you know some agency heads like it when their employees do their jobs?”

Mina grinned wickedly, then made a sort of clucking noise. “Did you know that some agency heads are no funsies? I like when my employees do their jobs and still have time for a social life.”

A smile tugged at your mouth. Your social calendar had never been so full as when you started working at Pink Riot, their rosters absolutely packed with outgoing heroes. Someone or other was always throwing a party, organizing a celebratory dinner when an especially big case was closed, or dashing across the floor yelling “drinks on me!” after nailing a particularly notorious villain.

Between the agency and your own friends you thought you were kept rather busy. But the sudden, shifting look of undue interest on Mina’s face told you she thought otherwise.

“When was the last time you went on a date, hmm?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows. “I never catch you smelling like anyone. Looking for anyone here?”

“And who told you you could smell me?” you demanded.

Mina cackled. “It’s not like I can turn my nose off. Plus you smell nice and comforting. Very beta. I wouldn’t stop smelling you even if I could.”

Your ears went hot. Alphas and omegas were always so nosy and inquisitive, a byproduct of being able to smell way too much for your comfort, a fact you and your circle of beta friends never missed a chance to bemoan.

And this was not the first time you’d been told as much, most betas apparently smelling some level of chill and less intrusive than the insistent scents of alphas and omegas. You didn’t exactly understand how something could smell chill, but enough people had said it that you accepted it.

“Well then it’s good I’m not polluting that with other smells,” you said. “Now mind your business.”

Mina’s grin was sharp as she reached over to ladle more of Tetsu’s concoction into your cup, a small revenge. “Fine but keep your options open tonight! I know plenty of nice beta boys I can set you up with—there’s a couple of analysts from Ingenium’s crowd here tonight.”

You nodded, affecting sincerity, although you had absolutely no plan to follow through. You were going to find your agency friends, go ham on some apps, and then head back home just as soon as Mina and Kirishima ended the night the way they usually did—locked mouth to mouth after drinking a little too much, causing a scene.

You waved Mina away, poking your head back out the kitchen door and surveying the rest of the party. Over near the couch, you caught a flash of a couple of your fellow case analysts in conversation with Asui Tsuyu, a beta hero at your agency who you got on well with. Your people exactly.

However, no sooner had you started to push back into the crowd than something slammed into your shoulder, sending you stumbling back into the wall. Your drink splashed right up over your shoulder, cold and biting. You let out a strangled noise, turning your head on impulse and catching a mouthful of hair.

“Oh my god, I am sooo sorry,” a soft voice said. You realized you’d collided with an omega analyst from another Bunkyo agency—a girl you vaguely remembered from a joint case a few years ago. She was small, petite, and delicately pretty in the way of most omegas. And she had also managed to empty nearly the entirety of your cup onto you.

“Shit, shit—I got your shirt wet!” she said, yanking herself back from you. She looked a little glassy-eyed, but genuinely apologetic, and she wiped at your shoulder with her bare hand. Definitely a bit drunk.

“No—it’s fine,” you told her, attempting to duck her hand. “I also didn’t see you!”

The omega girl didn’t look reassured however. She frowned, pausing over you—then suddenly slithered right out of her cardigan, throwing it over your shoulders.

“We’ll hide it like that. Please take it,” she said, her delicate fingers flitting back and forth over your now-covered shoulder, like she still itched to fix something. The cardigan was soft and warm, and even you could tell it smelled good—a soft, powdery, classically omegan scent.

“It’s really fine—” you insisted, immediately shrugging the cardigan back off, though you appreciated the gesture. You glanced down at your shoulder, surveying the damp patch that was slowly soaking closer to your boob. “It’s clear—it will dry in a couple of minutes and no one will be any the wiser. It already stinks like alcohol in here anyway.”

The omega girl hesitated as you handed her sweater back to her. She leaned in to sniff you tentatively. “Are you sure? I really am so sorry. Your mate is going to be so mad, now you can’t really smell you over the vodka unless you get in close—”

You held up a hand, sending her a reassuring smile. “I don’t have a mate, so there’s no problem. I promise.”

You did not add that as a beta, your pool of potential mates was limited to other betas, and that no beta’s sense of smell was enough to get worked up over this. Alphas and omegas tended to forget that not everyone was as sensitive as they were.

She bit her lip, the gesture pretty, but looked somewhat mollified. “You’re sure?” she ventured one last time.

You nodded. “Totally sure. I appreciate the gesture though.”

She nodded, still looking hesitant, and you decided there was only one way to put an end to this.

“Nice to see you, though. Maybe I will catch you around later!” you said, waving her off firmly. You quickly abandoned your now empty cup on a nearby table and turned to head back into the living room. You spotted Tsuyu’s head of dark green hair through the crowd of shoulders, a homing beacon in the dim.

As you charted an unsteady path through the crush of people, you noted several more heroes and analysts from other agencies, including Kaminari Denki and a beaming Midoriya Izuku, crammed into a corner and chatting animatedly to—oh.

Your cheeks flushed. Pro hero Shouto was here.

The other hero stood tall and solemnly handsome across from Midoriya, just as maddeningly gorgeous as always. You, like every other person with working eyeballs, had long nursed a tiny bit of a celebrity crush on him, as he was literally the most beautiful person on earth—a fact evidenced by his now six-year running sweep of Tokyo Beat magazine’s cutest hero award.

In your time at Pink Riot, you’d worked a couple of joint cases with Shouto’s agency and met him a few times in passing. You’d always found him to be a little bit intense, but kind, thoughtful, straightforward, and diligent. He was every bit the reassuring hero the media made him out to be, and even more striking in person. He also always wore scent patches flush at the sides of his neck, concealing what his secondary gender was from prying noses, although you’d always sort of suspected he had to be an omega.

He was tall and solid and strong in the way of most pro heroes. But his features were so finely-wrought, so strangely graceful and elegant for a man, that you would have put significant amounts of money down on his omega status.

Not that it mattered. Betas really only dated betas, and alphas really only omegas, so Shouto’s status wasn’t much to you, regardless of what it was.

You slipped past, averting your eyes, wondering absently if an omega like Todoroki Shouto ever encountered harassment like the victims in your newest case file. Maybe his scent blockers were for this very purpose—hiding his omega status so he didn’t run the risk. You imagined with a face like his, he would be sure to garner migraine-inducing levels of undue interest.

This thought was suddenly arrested, however, when a hand pressed to your chest, shoving you back into the wall you were sidling past.

Your breath wooshed out of your lungs as a strangled “fwuuh” noise escaped you. Your gaze jerked up to find an alpha you somewhat recognized was holding you against the wall, grinning in an incredibly unsettling way.

Fuzzily, you matched his face to one of the techs from the support department, someone you occasionally saw at work functions but never worked directly with. Support interfaced mainly with the heroes, mending their tech, inventing new items, and—if Mina’s complaints were to be believed—running up quite the bill for the agency with their experimentation.

“Can I—help you?” you garbled out, staring the alpha down.

He leaned in, leery, slurring, “What’sa pretty li’l thing like you doin’ here, huh?”

He smelled strongly of Tetsutestu’s horrid concoction, like the alcohol was literally seeping from his pores. You frowned, shifting uncomfortably under his hand. It was large, and too-warm against your shoulder, and the desire to turn and bite it welled up in your mouth.

“Can you get off me?” you asked, grabbing the alpha by the wrist. A support tech though he was, his hold on you was firm, and your grip didn’t dislodge him. He clung to your sweater, his gaze glassy but intense.

He closed his eyes, nose twitching like he was-–ew—like he was scenting you. “Aww come on baby. A li’l omega like you? There’s no need to pr’tend you don’t want this.”

Your brows furrowed, confusion bubbling up inside you. A little omega like you? What the fuck was he talking about? Was he that blasted?

“You have three seconds before I bite you,” you said, certain that would be clear enough, even if he was too drunk to tell you were a beta.

But his hand didn’t move. Instead he laughed, hot and humid and smelling strongly of liquor, and he fumbled with something at his belt.

A hot wave of fear suddenly washed over you, a stab of panic lancing your heart. He wasn’t going to expose himself right here, was he? You pushed back against the wall, feeling entrapped, yanking at his wrist harder to get him off of you.

“I’m not an omega,” you said loudly. “And I’m not interested, now get—”

The alpha’s hand was gone. You blinked, suddenly finding his face missing too, your vision gone entirely gray and strangely…knitted?

“Do not touch her,” a deep voice intoned, and you realized you were staring at a broad back, clad in a handsome gray sweater. You tipped your head back, your gaze fixing on a suspiciously familiar mop of scarlet and white hair.

Shouto. Pro hero Shouto had put himself in between you and the asshole alpha.

A thrill raced down your spine.

“The fuck I won’t,” a snort issued over one of Shouto’s strong shoulders.

There was a small, silent moment where you watched Shouto’s head tilt just the tiniest bit. He didn’t say anything in return—but a sudden, creeping unease slithered over your senses, raising the hair on the back of your neck. An audible hush fell over the people nearest you, though you couldn’t see what exactly was happening, caged between Shouto’s back and the wall.

You could just make out Shouto’s scent patches, perfectly even against his neck like always, and wondered whether they would help—-if the alpha couldn’t smell Shouto was an omega, maybe he thought he would respect his boundaries more?

“Dude—” someone hissed, from somewhere near the alpha, just as Shouto spoke once more.

“You will leave,” he intoned in that deep tone again. His voice was soft, placid—but the feeling of unease grew within you, a strange itch under your skin. You had the sudden urge to flee, but one of Shouto’s hands closed over your wrist, as a cerulean eye caught yours over his shoulder. “You…please stay.”

You could do nothing but nod, your feet practically freezing in place, the desire to obey subsuming your entire brain. What the hell was happening?

As Shouto turned back to face the alpha again, that hunted feeling grew stronger, like there was something in the apartment that you should be very, very wary of. Your throat started to close up, and your breath came a little short.

The room was so suddenly silent that you could hear the nervous shift of the people beyond Shouto, and you caught the sound of the alpha suddenly stumbling back.

“You’re—are you fucking Ordering me?” The alpha asked, but you could hear that he was still backing away.

The question crawled right under your skin along with the unsettled feeling.

An Order. As in, an Alpha Order. From Shouto? Pretty, kind, patient, careful Shouto? Classic omega material Shouto?

Was…using an Order on an alpha, and it was working?

Your head spun with the mismatch between Shouto’s face and the latent command in his tone. It was almost too strange to be contemplated, and yet here it was playing out in front of you.

Shouto, for his part, didn’t bother answering the question. “I believe I asked you to leave,” he said firmly. His voice carried an inflection that sliced through the air like a knife.

“Sorry, Todoroki, he’s super fucking drunk—I’ll get him out of here,” another voice said, one you recognized as a different support tech.

It sounded like he didn’t need to expend the effort, however, as the alpha’s footsteps were already beating a hasty retreat. The other support tech’s footsteps followed, his pace clipped on the hardwood.

As soon as they were out of view, the suffocating feeling all but evaporated. You could almost feel the sigh of relief around the room, and the line of Shouto’s shoulders untensed.

He turned to you slowly, drawing in a deep breath. His normally blank expression had been exchanged for something troubled, his perfect eyebrows knitted in concern, his full mouth pursed up like he’d just let it drop from a snarl.

He blinked down at you for a second, those distinct heterochromatic eyes flicking over you, before you found yourself suddenly crowded back into the corner, your back bumping the wall. Shouto leaned down and gave a delicate sniff at your temple, as if checking your condition.

“Are you alright?” he asked. His voice was still strange, rough with something you couldn’t name.

He was warm where he lingered over you, his shoulders broad enough that they blocked the light and cast falling shadows into the meager space between you. He was near enough that the dip of his sweater collar rasped over your shoulder, sending a swarm of tingles over your skin. You drew in a careful breath, trying to figure out just what the right answer was, coming up with nothing.

Shouto frowned over your lack of a response. His nose pressed right into your hair, and he crowded even closer, like he was trying to find the source of your discomfort—even though he’d just chased that source right through the front door.

“Your scent is difficult to find,” he murmured, his chest expanding and contracting. “It is covered by many things…” He trailed off as he seemed to find it—and then something strange happened—even stranger than the scene with the support tech alpha.

Shouto froze in place, going so unearthly still he might have been transmuted into marble. You heard his breath catch and hold in his lungs, and his fingers came up to grasp your sleeve, clutching you tightly.

You opened your mouth to ask what was wrong when a shudder swept down him, from head to toe. His grip on your wrist tightened for a moment, and a groan bubbled up from somewhere low in his throat.

“Your scent—” he rasped, then cut himself off.

He huffed out a harsh breath instead, stirring your hair, before his face dropped into the cradle of your shoulder. He breathed in, slow, measured, his mouth just barely touching the skin of your throat. You could feel his long, pretty eyelashes flutter against your skin, and the sensation sent shivers down your spine.

Something under your skin shifted in response, then.

To your utter shock, you could feel yourself tilting your head to the side, baring your neck. A strange feeling of malleability settled over you, like your bones had jellified and your muscles had atrophied.

“Shouto—?” you garbled out, unable to articulate any question beyond what the fuck was happening? You knew it had something to do with the way Shouto was most definitely not an omega after all. The thought made your brain fuzz with static.

Pretty, gentle, elegant Todoroki Shouto was an alpha. Kind, placid, beautiful Todoroki Shouto was even some kind of…distressingly strong alpha.

It crossed all the wires in your brain to think of that face possessing that kind of strength. But there was clearly something there. And you were being so weird and embarrassing about it, but you couldn’t have moved, even if you wanted to.

It felt like a short eternity, the time Shouto stood over you like that, his face pressed into your throat, your own throat bared to him. Your heartbeat pounded in your chest, simultaneously hammering a zillion miles a minute, and yet feeling slow, syrupy.

Distantly, you registered the hum of voices in the background, Tetsutetsu trying to rekindle the happy atmosphere. But Shouto was so warm over you, breathing slow and shallow, a tall, strong anchor weighing you against the wall.

It could have been minutes or hours before he finally stepped away. He looked calmer, but a little dazed. You felt the same way, mystified by what had just occurred between you.

His gaze picked over you in some kind of assessment. “You’re well?” he asked carefully. His voice was pitched low.

“Yeah,” you managed, your throat weirdly dry. “Yeah. I—thank you, Shouto.”

Shouto inclined his head in a nod. “You, as well. I don’t usually…I try not to rise to anger. But when alphas try to use their power to—” he cut himself off. His throat bobbed with some emotion you couldn’t name.

“Your scent is….calming to me.”

You nodded. The beta chill thing again, like Mina had said.

“Your friendly neighborhood beta, at your service,” you saluted him, trying to ignore the strange, lingering shiver in your limbs.

A tiny smile quirked the corner of Shouto’s mouth, but his gaze remained fixed on you, almost inhumanly intense.

“That is not quite what I mean,” he said, but did not elaborate. There was something in his voice, in the way he was looking at you that you didn’t understand, but you didn’t know him well enough to try to dig into it.

Instead you just gave him another smile, your face heating as you noticed several people around you were still watching you.

You figured it was probably time to make an escape after that little scene you had just caused, for Shouto’s reputation as well as yours. You didn’t need people thinking Shouto had been scenting you for any reason other than your apparent beta chill pill scent, especially now that people at the party would know he was an alpha.

God, he was an alpha, even with a face like that.

You waved at him, garbling out another, “Well, thanks for the save! I, um, have to be going, but I’ll see you around!” before throwing yourself back through the crowd, your head spinning.

Mina had come out of the kitchen and tried to flag you down as you passed. You waved back at her like you’d misunderstood, quickly fighting your way back to Tetsu’s front door. You felt the weight of dozens of eyes on your back, and the prick of two heterochromatic ones, somehow more certain and weightier than the others. But you didn’t turn around, eager to get out of the crowd, still reeling from what had happened.

You didn’t know how you had been mistaken for an omega by that drunk alpha, and understood even less what had possessed Shouto to sniff you all over like that, embarrassed by how much you had liked it. It most probably had something to do with how inherently non-aggressive beta scents were supposed to be, maybe helping Shouto down from how keyed up he’d been about that other alpha.

But it had still been so embarrassing and strange, the way your head had tipped right back for him, the way your limbs had gone to jelly in his hold. You hoped he’d had a little to drink too or he’d probably realize how weird you were, reacting like that.

Finally, you spilled out of Tetsu’s and into the night, the evening air cool on your heated skin. The phantom touch of Shouto’s mouth still lingered on your throat, warm and disconcerting.

You beelined for home, your head swimming. You wondered just how long it would take you to forget how very strange this evening had been.

[pleasehelpmeimfying]

Fucking him silly was probably the best decision you ever made. The way he’s latching to the sheets, desperate for some self control. His hips being forced to meet your pelvis over and over again. How deep you ran into him is unbelievable, honestly.

It was all his fault! He kept giving you a stank attitude.. it was so disappointing :( you taught him better than to act like some kind of brat!!

{𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 (?), 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐌!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤 (𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐠𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐭𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝), 𝐯𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐩𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐜 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠. 

——————————————𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

As perfect as he was, there were times when this Obedient Adeptus acted like a total brat. Giving you nasty attitude from across the room with that 100 yard stare. It was.. a unique experience.

You were just talking to some of your closest friends! Giving them random ass advice, a hug or two. Nothing serious at all‼️ but that damn Adeptus took it all the wrong way. So, when they left.. you confronted the little shit and dealt with the “problem”.

“𝐖-𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭! <𝐘/𝐍>!.. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐚𝐡𝐡𝐇𝐡𝐡𝐧𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐡 ❤︎︎ 𝐍-𝐍𝐠𝐡𝐡𝐦𝐦!“

Xiao was pleading for something you really couldn’t understand. Probably because you had him in the mating press. Both of your legs tangled, balls deep inside his tight hole. You slammed up and down as he tried to fight the moans slipping through his pretty little throat.

“𝐌’𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲! 𝐍𝐞-.. 𝐍𝐠𝐡𝐡𝐡!! 𝐍𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚-𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧.. 𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐧𝐧 ❤︎︎“

As you already had your lover in the most vulnerable position, you decided to give him just a bit more.. So why not jerk him off??

He felt your warm hand grip his hard on, confused on why you would touch him in such a position. His mind was slowly turning into mush as your dick kept drilling in his warm walls. Head being thrown back as his mouth opened only to be greeted by his tongue hanging out like some kind of whore. The way you kept overloading him with diffrent sensations were killing him. Moans after moans were ripped out of him, as his toes curled and tears fell.. he cummed violently, getting it all over his face and shoulders as you continued to fuck the living daylights out of him.

“𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲..! 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐭-𝐭𝐨 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝.. 𝐈𝐦 𝐜-𝐜𝐔𝐌-𝐍𝐠𝐡𝐡 𝐦𝐦𝐩𝐠𝐡! ❤︎︎“

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

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞

This motherfucker.. Always bitching and moaning whenever your out. In the store he’s cussing you out on how you got the wrong type of “BiTtEr tEA.” At the library giving you the death glare as you accidentally drop a book and it made a little thud. Crying to you how you apparently don’t love him anymore. The list could go on and on..

Currently, scaramouche was handcuffed and blindfolded to the bed Stand. A vibrator up his ass and one on the tip of his dick. To top it all off, he was wearing a cock ring ☆! Preventing him from letting his load out. This punishment was going on for half an hour. Tears were falling on the sides of his pretty lil face as his body twitched.

He didn’t know you were still in the room. Thinking that you left to go do something.. more important. He was so fucking wrong it was sad. Slowly you crept on the side of the bed, gently tracing your finger across his abdomen.

“..𝐦𝐦𝐩𝐡𝐧𝐠𝐡... 𝐓𝐨.. 𝐓-𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡!.. <𝐘/𝐍> 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞- 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞....“

Begging and crying to stop this pleasurable nightmare yet you didn’t hear a single, “Sorry”. Looked like the little beast didn’t know how to apologize! That’s okay, you can teach him <333

So you maxed out the vibrators, and nipped his whole body as he cried. Shaking and sweating.. it’s okay, you can teach him to be more.. Kind.

“𝐍𝐌𝐌𝐏𝐇𝐇?!.. 𝐍𝐨- 𝐧𝐎𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐦𝐦𝐧𝐍𝐌𝐠𝐡! 𝐧𝐨- 𝐧-𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞! 𝐌’𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐡𝐠𝐡𝐧! 𝐅-𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠-.. 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐧𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐡𝐡!!“

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

𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨

Known for his stoic attitude and large reputation for alchemy, Albedo would’ve been continuing his research. Ironically he’s on his desk, papers and test tubes scattered everywhere as the cold nipped at his artificial skin. Rosy cheeks and small tears blessed his face as you kept fucking him so well!

Albedo wasn’t even trying to keep quiet. He genuinely didn’t care if anyone heard him. There in the middle of dragonspine, who in the right mind would come this far? Alas, he quickly focused on you once more. Your dick pounding into him so good was like a dream come true.

So why were you being so harsh for?.. oh that’s right. He kept cutting your friends off whenever they choose to speak, he kept tugging your arm away from them too. Just normal needy Beast behavior.

“𝐅-𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤!.. <𝐘/𝐍>.. 𝐎𝐡𝐡! 𝐌𝐦𝐩𝐠𝐡𝐡𝐡.. 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫!!“

You kept hitting that spongy spot buried deep inside him, making his legs tremble and his clenched on your cock more frequently. His hole swollen from you stretching it. Giving him no break to recover from his organism! That was mean and you knew it too. But did you care?

No, No you did not. Soooo.. you leaned down, grabbed a fistful of his hair and stopped moving. You decided it was his turn to do the work. To go in and out if he wanted to complain so much.

“𝐰𝐡𝐲’𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐩? 𝐖𝐡𝐲’𝐝.. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐧𝐨! 𝐂𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟! 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞.. 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐀𝐀𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐌𝐏𝐇♡︎ 𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐡𝐇𝐡𝐡♥︎“

Maybe next time he wouldn’t be so bitchy.

[ayeyolooo]

Dappin’ up 10’s

You and your friends thought that it would be a good idea to dap up boys that y’all found cute. But there was a twist(we’ll save that for later😉)

“Pretty girl you ready?” Sasha stuck her head in your door, you smiled and nodded and made your way to the front door. You had just got out of a relationship so y’all thought it would be fun to go and do the lil video. Cause who was about to go out sad about a nigga?? not you.

Yall finally made it to downtown Miami where the beach was and parked. When y’all got out the car Sasha and mikasa giggled and squealed making you laugh and shake your head. “Dang if I was the big L I’d most definitely shoot my shot at you.” Mikasa said making you laugh. “Girllll pleaseeee.” You said waving her off with a laugh.

Y’all was walking and found an area with a whole bunch of people which y’all thought would be a great area to do the video. “Ight y/n/n you first.” The both of them said. You nodded and squinted your eyes trying to find someone. Your heart dropped as you seen a friend group all of them was so fine if you was being honest but the dark skinned one caught your attention, so you just walked over to them.

Mikasa started recording as you walked over to them, dropping their conversation making them all look at you. You had your attention on him and only him. You held your hand out and he paused a second before taking it and looking at you in your eyes. You took in his facial features and your face went hot. He had waves with a fresh tape meaning he got his hair cut today.. (oh lord he one of them wanting to show off his haircut.) he had on a black tee shirt that was tight around his upper arm and that goatee,mustache and pretty lip combo. He had on his chains that sounded like ice and water when he moved,you took your hand away and flashed your grills at him making him look at you with them eyesss( if ykykkkk) your chubby cheeks made him look at you in aw. He scanned your outfit and nodded in approval. You mikasa and Sasha walked away giggling as they looked at ony hitting his chest in excitement.

“Yooooooooo!!” Connie and eren placed their fist up to their lips and laughed. “Who was thatttt she is so gorgeous oh my goodness??” The both of them asked him. “Man ion know.” The both of them sucked their teeth making him look at them with a stank face. “You need to find her cause I felt the tension all the way over here.” Connie said cackling. And that’s exactly what he did.

[octuscle]

Distilled masculinity

Timothy was a twink. There was no other way to put it. He had a flawless soft house, a rosy, soft face, golden curls, hardly any beard growth and virtually no body hair. There were a lot of people who found him incredibly sexy the way he was. He was shagged at least once a day. But he couldn't get close to the men he actually liked, the big, hairy musclemen. He was invisible to them… Completely.

In order to be as close to his idols as possible, he had taken on a temporary job at the gym on campus. Working a bit at reception, tidying up in the evenings… But his favorite task was to collect the towels from the training area in the evening and take them to the laundry. If he was lucky, a few members of the wrestling team had wiped their sweat with them. And then their musk still hung in the cotton. Timothy couldn't get enough of sinking his face into these towels. Before he fed them into the washing machine, he had jerked off into the towels more than once. Especially when he himself had found wank stains in the towels, which unfortunately happened far too rarely for his liking.

At some point, Timothy began not to put the towels that stank the most in the laundry, but to secretly collect them in his own locker in the gym. The stench became more and more overwhelming when he opened the locker… The very idea that he could sink his nose into the dirty towels again made his puny cock hard. But he remained a twink. Nothing to change! Not even through his attempts to work out in the gym himself. Preferably before or after the official opening hours. When other musclemen trained with him, he felt uncomfortable on the one hand because he was such a beanpole. And on the other hand, he had a hard-on that couldn't be hidden. No, if the members of the wrestling team or the football team were anywhere near him, he couldn't train…

Timothy's major was chemistry. If his dream of finally getting close to the big guys wasn't going to come true, he at least wanted to become a successful chemist. His dream was to isolate substances that could turn people like him into people like his idols. But that would remain as much a dream as ever being shagged by the quarterback or the captain of the wrestling team.

After a sleepless night in which he had jerked off more than once, Timothy had an idea. It seemed crazy to him. But he had to try it. He wanted to distill the sweat, the cum, the musk from his towel collection. He wanted a concentrate that he could rub under his armpits. If he didn't look like one of the mountains of muscle, he at least wanted to smell like one… And as the sun slowly rose, he also had an idea of how he could do this… That evening, when he was finally alone again in the gym, he wanted to get straight down to business.

The experimental setup was not easy. Timothy had made something like a funnel out of old plastic boxes in the gym's storeroom and filled it with distilled water. Over and over again. Until it slowly began to drip from the bottom of his funnel. Water that had run through the towels and picked up the delicious scents of dozens of jocks on its way. It was long after midnight when he had collected about a gallon of liquid. She smelled like the towels had smelled. Timothy stuffed them into the washing machine. His boss had long wondered where all the towels disappeared to. Now the stock would be replenished. Timothy took the canister of flavored water and went home. now he wanted to distill the scent. He had bought a still for amateur distillers. But he didn't want to make schnapps. He had other things in mind. Unfortunately, his plan didn't work out. Just as the first oily drops were dripping into his Erlenmeyer flask, there was a bang! And the whole still blew up. Shit, it was 04:00 in the morning. He heard neighbors yelling. Timothy hurriedly grabbed a rag and wiped up the mess on his kitchen floor. And he got a boner. Bigger and harder than ever before. The rag stank! Stank more than any changing room. Every football jersey. Than anything he'd ever smelled. It didn't smell beastly. It smelled like a beast! But Timothy stank too. When the apparatus had exploded, there had been plenty of splashes of the original liquid and the distillate. Timothy went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His T-shirt was stained. He took it off. And absent-mindedly, he took the cloth he had just used to wipe the floor and rubbed his upper body with it. The smell! He rubbed his face. Damn it! That overwhelming smell! He took the cloth and rubbed his upper body as if it were a washcloth.

Tim grunted. Yeah, the washcloth wasn’t exactly clean. But hell, it was early in the morning, and he was about to hit the gym anyway. Why did he even bother washing up before? Washing was for wimps. Yeah, he was everything but a wimp. He started posing. He liked what he saw. He was in good shape. When the bulking phase ended and he prepped for the next competitions, he'd have to shave his chest hair again. He hated that. But shit, he was too dumb for any other job. Or for college or some crap. And he didn’t want a football career either. Coach kicked him off the team after he banged the quarterback. Hehehe, it was worth it. But now he wasn't gonna crawl back to the team. Tim made his pecs dance. 5:30 AM. In an hour and a half, he’d have to open the gym. Plenty of time to chug a gallon of protein shake and maybe do a little leg workout. He'd hit chest again tonight. Maybe he’d even let the wrestling team captain give him a hand with it.

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— rose-tinted shadows —

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst, mentions of violence

Summary: You and Jason fall in love a little bit more each night.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

A/N: Someone was talking about reader descriptions not being told beforehand so I’m just going to add in that reader has hair long enough to put up in a bun (only mentioned in the first portion). I’ve been putting off writing the last bit but now that I’m done… Enjoy!

Jason stumbled away from the window, the chilly draft seeping through the glass sent a shiver down his spine. He hastily pulled it shut behind him, the latch clicking into place with a satisfying thud. His hands, numb from the cold, fumbled with the bolt, the metal feeling icy against his skin as he secured it tightly. As he turned away from the window, the warmth of the room enveloped him, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. His cheeks and ears tingled with the rush of blood returning, a sensation akin to pins and needles. 

With a sigh of relief, he unclasped his helmet, feeling the weight of it lift from his head, leaving his hair tousled and his forehead damp with sweat. Peering out of the window one last time, he drew the curtains closed, the fabric whispering against the glass as it obscured his view. Intent on making his way to the couch to rest before heading to bed, Jason’s movements were halted by an unexpected obstacle. His shin collided with the sharp edge of the coffee table, the pain shooting through his leg like a bolt of lightning. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat as he clenched his jaw against the pain. He glared down into the abyss where he assumed the table was situated. Rubbing his throbbing shin, Jason's gaze darted to the flicker of light in the kitchen. 

And there you were, standing in the warm light, your presence a welcome sight in the dimness of the room. Your expression was unreadable, a mixture of amusement and annoyance as you leaned against the counter, arms crossed over your chest.

Your hair was mussed, most of it up in a messy bun while some strands fell into your face. A few blanket lines were pressed into your skin, just on the apple of your cheek. You were still in your pajamas—a pair of sweatpants and Jason’s old band tee. 

There was nothing special about your attire nor the expression you wore. And yet, Jason’s shoulders fell loose. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice soft with fatigue as he offered you a weary smile. You turned your head slightly, your lips curling into a faint smile as you watched Jason hobble toward you. The fatigue in his voice mirrored the weariness in his eyes, but there was a warmth there, a familiarity that softened the lines of his face.

“Rough night, honey?” You asked, the concern evident in your tone as you pushed yourself off the counter, closing the distance between you. Jason nodded, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, tilting your head up as a silent invitation for a sweet peck. He snaked his arms around your shoulders and leaned down to peck your lips—he knew he stank from the snowfall. 

You wrinkled your nose and pulled away from him. “You stink.” You pulled away completely, merely reaching out a hand. Your fingers brushed against his arm as you guided him to the nearest chair, nudging him to sit down for a few minutes. He pouted when you started to step away, hands landing on your hips and tugging you to stay put. 

“Stay for a mo’, sweetheart,” he managed to mutter out through his utter exhaustion, your presence creating an atmosphere so soothing that it was lulling him to sleep. You gave in with little to no resistance, combing your fingers through his hair and stepping close enough for him to rest his forehead against your stomach. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you whispered, still working your gentle fingers into his scalp. You scratched his neck lightly with the tips of your nails. “How’s Roy doing?” 

“He’s fine.” Jason’s words were fast, but slurred. With each stroke, Jason felt the tension in his muscles begin to melt away. His eyes were drooping shut and he was overwhelmed with love, squeezing his arms around your waist. “Why you up, sweetheart?” 

“Came to grab some water,” you told him softly, “but then I heard you dropping into the fire escape and thought I would just wait for you.”

“In the dark?” Jason's voice was tinged with amusement, a hint of laughter bubbling up from deep within him. He could feel the vibrations from your little giggles against his cheek. He opened his eyes fully to look up at you, chin now resting where his cheek was just a second ago. Your eyes were just a bit puffy from sleep and the blanket lines were fading on your cheek, but he could tell you were tired. Jason could sense the weariness in your frame, the effort it took for you to stay on your feet and not lean your whole weight against him.

“I wasn’t going to turn them on and burn my eyes,” you remarked with a lazy eye roll. You grinned then, a twinkle in your eyes telling him that you planned on teasing him for something now. “How’s your shin?” His shoulders shook with laughter, the drowsiness disappearing for the time being as he pulled on your waist. He sat up straighter, your stomach pressing into his chest. 

He waited for your laughter to die down before he spoke. “I’m better now,” he confessed, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your back as he savored the feeling of you being close. The scent of your shampoo and perfume mixing in with something entirely you. He leaned in closer to you, head tilting up to look at you. Your eyes flickered between his, seemingly flustered with the way he was looking at you. 

You pecked his lips and whispered, “You still stink.” 

It was one of those rare nights Jason was home the whole night. 

It was rare for Jason to be home at night, but even rarer for the sun to be out for an entire week in Gotham. It was known for its rain clouds and sloshy snow. Gotham was a little less dangerous in the summer when the sun stayed up longer than usual, glaring down on people’s backs harshly. The criminals seemed to decrease their daily dosage of bad and hid in the gleaming rays, wearing smiles on their faces and enjoying the few days of pure sunlight. 

Dick, being the doting older brother he was, chose to give everyone a few days off of patrol, including Bruce. Not that everyone had willingly agreed; they were either bribed or blackmailed. Dick had some pictures of little Damian snuggled up to his Batman plushie and told Tim that he would have no access to any internet if he did go on patrol. Dick had something on Bruce that he wouldn’t share with anyone—nobody really wanted to know anyway. Even Jason had to be bribed with the reminder that his time off would be spent with you. 

That was exactly what Jason did on his free nights. 

If you two weren’t cuddled up in bed, bare and vulnerable to each other, you two were nestled together on the couch. A movie or TV show would be playing in the background, forgotten as Jason left a path of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. He would pay extra attention to the spot that made you squirm and tug his hair before kissing your lips sweetly. It was a silent promise of more. His hands would travel around your body, sometimes lifting your hands off of him and kissing your knuckles slowly. 

If you were up and going around the apartment you both shared, Jason was right behind you, eager to help you with mundane tasks. In the kitchen, his hand would land on your hip from behind you, a pat to your side before he grabbed something you couldn’t reach. Sometimes his arms would wrap around your middle, repeating the steps for a recipe. Other times, he would grab the things in your hand and start pestering you to sit down while he handled the food. 

Most of the time, it would end up with you sitting on the kitchen island while he was between your legs and trading lazy kisses. 

Tonight, you were perched up on the kitchen island, clad in Jason’s briefs and shirt with him standing between your legs. His hands were resting on your hips as he tugged you near the edge, lips drowning the small gasp you let out. Slow, languid kisses were being traded, so full of love that your head was spinning with the need of more. Or less. You didn’t know which it was with his hands starting to wander under your shirt, kneading the soft skin as he pulled away from your lips for a breather. 

“I love you,” he whispered, not waiting for your response as he kissed you lazily. His hands started on two different paths. One trailed up your spines, fingers tickling the curve of your back as the other went down towards your thigh. You let out a noise between a moan and whimper when his hand fisted some of your hair and tilted your head back gently for better access. His hand squeezed your thigh when he pulled away again, staring at you with a dopey grin on his face. 

When he kept staring, you asked, “What?” Your voice was low and husky, staring back at him with a growing shy smile. His cheeks were tinged with red and his lips were swollen, hair mused from your own wandering hands. He looked so good. 

He merely shook his head and said, “I just really, really love you.” Then he kissed you again, not again waiting for you to respond with your own declaration. You knew he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you so you kissed him back, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him down a little. A few seconds later, he pulled away again, looking at you exactly the way he was before and fully intending to tell you how much he loved you.

“I—”

“I love you too, honey,” you cut in with a giggle at his agape mouth. You weaved your hands through his hair and tilted your head towards him, lips just mere inches away. “I am absolutely, completely, and insanely in love with you, Jason Todd.”

He grinned, kissed you hard, and then said, “I am deadly in love with you, Y/N Y/S.” 

Jason gracefully landed on his feet, tugging the window close behind him. He didn’t bother checking for any tailing and closed the curtains. A smile tugged at his lips when he caught your face lit under the only source of light in the living room. You were snuggled up in the armchair with a blanket or two piled on your curled up knees, a book leaning against your legs and open with your fingers. The lamp next to you flickered slightly, the bulb ready to be replaced. As were the others in the apartment. 

You looked up after a moment, eyes falling from his head to his shoes slowly. “You okay?” You asked quietly, a slight croak to your vowels that told him you hadn’t spoken since he left. He nodded slowly, hands coming up to click the little button under his helmet to remove it from his head. He didn’t bother fixing his hair. He smiled sadly at you and removed his shoes on the little mat that you had placed under the window after a particularly muddy mess he had made in the house. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled, making his way to you timidly. His mind was still reeling from the fight you both had before he left, a hole building up in his chest that he wouldn’t be able to fill until he was sure you were still here with him. 

You let out a small sigh and extended a hand for him to latch on to with his gloved hands. Your other hand placed the book upside down under the lamp. Your eyes flickered down to his glove, brows slightly pinched as you started removing it. The sound of velcro being pulled apart filled the void for a few seconds as you moved from one hand to another, still not meeting his eyes. He shifted his weight unconsciously and waited for your eyes to meet his again. Then, when his gloves had been pulled apart, you tugged on his hands. 

He felt your resolve crumble slightly when you looked up at him and whispered, “Sit with me, please.” You moved up a little, your other hand holding up the blankets for him to get under. He moved as fast and gently as he could, yearning for your body warmth against his. His leathers were uncomfortable and one of his guns stabbed into his thigh, but he wouldn’t complain about it. He wouldn’t complain about a gun shot if you were asking him to sit with you. He wouldn’t even feel it. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated in a murmur, enclosing his arms around your form. You shifted to sit across his lap, adjusting the blankets around you. He was sweating under his layered leathers, but he shivered when your hand ghosted his neck. You undid his leather jacket and pushed it down his shoulders. He obliged and threw to the couch without taking his eyes off of you, his white tank top cladding his form. You pressed your hand against his chest, right over where his heart was beating for you. 

“I just want you to be careful,” you whispered. You tapped his chest twice with the tips of your fingers, looking up at him with your glossy orbs. “I need you to be careful.” Your vowels cracked at the edges a little, bottom lip a little wobbly. 

His heart seemed to break at the confession, willing it to piece itself back together, but he could hear it beating in the deafening silence. He leaned his head down, forehead pressing into yours with a silent promise to do better. To be better for you. 

“I will,” he said instead of all the other things he had said to you while leaving. At the time of his departure, it felt like too much. Like you were doubting his skills and wit to stay alive. He knew his nighttime activities were dangerous and just as hard for you as they were for him. He grabbed your hand when you went to move it from his chest to keep it there. “You’re the reason I want to be careful, sweetheart.” 

You took a breath. “I know.” You nodded and let your eyes trail to his forearms. “You should change. Maybe take a quick shower, too. You stink. Definitely change.”

He had forgotten all about the uncomfortable leathers and the gun that was stabbing into him as he held you. His mind was already spitting out ways he could make it up to you. Even if he had apologized and you had forgiven him, he couldn’t get the image of your eyes filled with tears out of his head. He could definitely start with holding your hand and letting you tug him to the bathroom. 

Jason quietly landed on the mat, wiping his muddy shoes and toeing them off carefully. His eyes flickered around the silent apartment, heart clenching as he looked back outside for any goons that might have followed him. He did a few sweeps of the alleyway and hoped that there was no one lurking in the shadows that was hell bent on finding Red Hood. He sighed softly as he did one last sweep for the goons that he had encountered on his way here. No one was there, he told himself as he locked the window and closed the curtains shut. 

He turned away from the window and made his way through the living room to the kitchen, his dry throat cursing at him for not taking a sip of Dick’s water when he had offered. He grabbed a glass and filled it blindly, chugging it down and taking another glass full. He moved over and opened the fridge. The refrigerator’s light made him squint as he ducked down to see if there were any leftovers from dinner. He moved a few things around and grabbed a box of sushi that you had probably ordered. 

As he sat down at the kitchen island to eat he heard a muffled groan from your shared bedroom. His eyes flickered up, resting steadily on the door to the right in the short hallway. He held his breath and waited for any other sounds or movement. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he had hoped that maybe you had woken up. 

It was a rough night and all he really wanted to do was hold you—or let you hold him. It usually started off with his arms wrapped around your waist and holding you to his chest, laying you on top of him slowly but surely. Sometimes, he tugged you a bit quickly if you were awake. After a while, your body would start drooping over his side and onto the bed. Then you would tug him over to rest his body over yours, moving his head to your chest to listen to your heart. Your nails would scratch at his head and one finger would trail on his spine. 

But there were no other noises arising from your bedroom. It made him deflate slightly, sighing as he munched into a piece of sushi bitterly. It was selfish to want you awake just to comfort him. He knew he should be glad that you were getting your sleep, working irregular shifts at your job because one of your coworkers, a good friend of yours, had a baby. But he still felt the desire to wake you with his selfishness and want of comfort. He finished his sushi with a few more bites, now eager to see you. 

He threw away the empty box, eyes now adjusted to the dark. He made his way to the hallway bathroom, not wanting to bother you with the light or the noise of the shower. It made too much noise nowadays. You wanted him to take a look at it after you couldn’t find anything, but he had been putting it off for days. He took the quickest shower he could, trying to get most of the dirt out of his hair. He looked at his reflection, wincing at the purple bruise blooming on his cheekbone rapidly. There was no point in icing it now; it would do nothing. 

He entered your shared bedroom, only to realize that you were awake. Reading his first edition of Pride & Prejudice under the lowest setting of your bedside lamp and cuddled up under the blankets. Your eyes merely flickered up to him for a moment before darting back to the book. He wanted to scoff. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to do everything to grab your attention. He wondered if you had noticed his bruise or not. Probably not. You usually fretted over him, even for the smallest cut that appeared on him. 

“Sweetheart?” He looked at you carefully, wondering if he had accidentally done something he shouldn’t have for your silent treatment. You hummed before he could think a bit further. “I thought you would be asleep.” 

You stretched, closing the book and looking at him properly. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” You looked at him with tired eyes, now taking in his bruise. You beckoned him over with your head. He slipped under the covers towards you, letting you cup his cheeks. A sigh escaped his lips at the slightest stroke of your thumb over his bruise. Your touch was a much better remedy than ice or painkillers. 

“Did you ice it?” From the way you had asked him, he was sure that you knew he hadn’t. He shook his head ever so slightly, not wanting your hands to move from his face as he stared at your face. His eyes drank in every little feature, the curve of your nose, the little smile lines against your eyes. Every little feature. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled, eyes growing heavy with sleep in your presence. You smiled softly and repeated the words back to him with a peck on his lips. Jason knew when he slept tonight, he wouldn’t have to deal with dark shadows painting his dreams. Instead he would smile slightly as he held you close with rose-tinted shadows grazing his eyes.

[paper-mario-wiki]

it's hard to appreciate the frigid snowfields of the Tabantha region when you haven't had a proper night's sleep in a month. your sleep cycle tends to unravel in the Abyss. many would tell you it's because the place seems designed to kill you, flora and fauna alike. what bugs me more than that is the creeping awareness that the sun will not come out, no matter how long i wait there.

many explorers prefer not to stay more than 3 days underground, though this time i spent 30. i'm more of an adventurer than a researcher so perhaps i was better equipped to take this trek than them, though i didnt intend for it to be that way. sometimes you lose the reigns over your own journey. at times there would be opportunities to leave when i had every incentive to keep pushing forward. very rarely did those opportunities come when i needed them the most.

my last moments in the underground were spent fleeing from a something gigantic that i could not see. as soon as i could hear the sound of the freezing cold wind above only a few layers of stone and soil, i started clawing through fistfuls of dirt until i emerged to a grey, snowy sky near the top of a mountain. Mount Drena i think. i'll ask a local as soon as i get to a lodge. i'm looking forward to a proper bed of course, but more than that i'm looking forward to a warm bath. my body, as it tends to go on my expeditions, is currently sustaining itself through adrenaline. even still my muscles are aching. i still have dirt under my fingernails from all the digging too.

arriving at the stable, i'm greeted by the clerk who saw me off when i began my trek through the underground a month ago, who tells me he's relieved to see me return in one piece. the look on his face when i collapsed onto one of the spare beds after setting down my backpack told me he meant that sincerely.

taking off my chest plate and chainmail gaiters, my coat, my protective chest padding, my undergarments, underpants, shoes, socks, and finally the hair tie that kept my vision clear, felt like emerging out of a cocoon. or maybe shedding my skin like a snake. my body breathes in the fresh air as if i needed every pore to fill my lungs. dipping into the hot water made every ache and pain i'd earned during my time underground scream all at once, only to get quieter, and quieter, and quieter, until it turned into a tranquil numb tingling. clean water, piping hot, doesn't seem like a luxury until it is kept from you. the underground had lakes, but the water stank like rainwater from the bottom of a vase left outside.

maybe next in my travels i'll spend some time in Eldin. the hotsprings are the first things people i've met on the road tell me about whenever it's brought up. i let my mind sink into that idea as i crawled into the wool covers of the bed i bought for the night. even with the stable being as rural as it was, i was lucky enough to get a privacy curtain. i appreciate this, because i'd prefer not to wear anything to bed. although it's still freezing cold just outside the lodge's door, i won't deprive even an inch of myself from the fresh air tonight. the delicious, fresh air.