#but no enthusiastic fans this time about. Maybe next con!

[aliidarling]

hii! I really like your writing about ghostface!!! That’s why i wanted to request kind of enemies to lovers Danny Johnson x fem!reader who fights back. Something like - Danny is going to hook the reader, but she starts throwing hands which is so amusing for him. Nsfw would be nice too<3

aaaaah thank you!! sorry this took so long LMAO

heavy metal lover

DANNY JOHNSON x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary: danny chases us down and is about to hook us when we start to throw hands :P

warnings; p in v, dub con, degradation, mean danny, annoying reader, humiliation, wounds, bleeding, blood, normal dbd stuff

danny didn’t like spawning on the brighter, more cheery maps. they were harder to hide in, harder to stalk his victims and chase them down. the sun would always reveal him to the eyes of the survivors, causing his downfall in the end.

which is why he was very pleased when he opens his eyes, the fog disappearing before him to slowly reveal haddonfield. he loved this place, this dark little neighborhood where one of his idols slaughtered their first victims decades ago.

he’s a fan of micheal myers. okay— not just a fan, more like a enthusiast. the first thing he did when he was taken by the fog was ask the tall brooding man for his autograph! could you blame him? it was like he became a giddy teenage girl whenever he was near one of his heroes.

an explosion at the other side of the map has him humming, smiling as he immediately breaks out into stealth and starts to creep towards his new victims. he can’t help but think how stupid they are, exploding a generator not even five minutes into the match. did he pair with that stupid steve again? ugh, he hates that cocky little guy.

on the way to the generator in sight, he suddenly feels himself get palled stunned out of nowhere. he yelps and stumbles back, rubbing his face. he looks up to see you grinning at him. you had literally appeared out of nowhere, and was already throwing pallets? the hell?

“you’re gonna regret that.” he huffs, quickly smashing the pallet. you’re quick to throw your tongue out at him, smiling before sprinting down to one of the houses. he follows reluctantly, pissed off.

“too slow, slow poke!” you yell at him, vaulting over a window into the myers house. he follows into the house, swiftly moving into the house after you. he looks around, confused on how you suddenly disappeared. he walks towards the door to the kitchen only to suddenly get his head slammed by a locker, stunning him. he sees your tiny form exit the locker quickly and run off through his blurry vision. stupid head on.

“stupid bitch will regret that,” he mumbles to himself, not wanting to admit he’s starting to feel a little self conscious. a teeny girl is belittling him and it’s working. how embarrassing could this get for him?

the next twenty minutes is you looping him for five generators. yeah, that’s right, five. danny isn’t very pleased, he’s practically livid, fuming with anger as he attempts to slash at you and you 360 him for the twentieth time. he’s gonna take his time gutting you, you can bet on that.

“just SHUT UP!” he snaps as you yell out another insult that has him wanting to cry. he’s never felt so humiliated. how tall were you even? you couldn’t be taller then 5’5– and he was 6’2. a small midget was looping him.

“you’re gonna fuckin’ die.” he glares at you. you hear the last generator go off in the distance, making your smile widen.

“yeah? doesn’t seem like it.” you stick your tongue out at him before vaulting through a window that has you gaining a good distance on him. he almost trips over his feet as he breaks out into a sprint after you.

yeah, maybe he’s tunneling you at this point, but he really just wants to down you so he can camp your ass. you’re not getting out of this trial after the humiliating experience you put him through.

as you’re running from him, you can see the exit gates slowly start to appear in the distance. a smile grows on your face as you feel your feet start to grow lighter— the adrenaline working well to give you a boost.

but you suddenly feel his knife slash at you form behind, making you scream in pain as you topple over and land on your belly, clutching yourself in pain. there was blood on your shirt now, staining the pretty fabric scarlet red.

“god damn— dick— bringing noed- you’re such a try hard!” you yell at him, making him cackle from behind you. he doesn’t waste time to run over to the exit gate, scaring the other survivors out and forcing them to run into the fog, leaving you all alone bleeding out.

he’s tauntingly slow as he walks back to you, making you stiffen in discomfort. you had managed to crawl a little closer to the exit gate while he was busy, but he got back before you could even enter the area.

“scared?” he asks mockingly, kneeling down infront of you. he grasps into your hair, pulling it and raising your face towards him. he clicks at his tongue in amusement.

“no fuckin’ way-“ you choke out, scowling at him with a pissed off expression. but then again, you can’t help but smirk a little, batting your lashes as you wanted to get some last words in. “at least i stalled your ass for five gens. imagine being that bad at your own job.”

he stares at you for a good five seconds before grabbing you and throwing you over his shoulder, walking straight to a hook. you start thrashing and yelling at him, hands flying. he’s very easy to piss off, mostly because he’s always angry and was born a psychopath, but you do such a good job at it that it surprises him.

“let me GOOOO!” you screech. you’re like a worm, squirming around and throwing fists. he’s tempted to disobey the entity and kill you with his bare hands, but he doesn’t want to anger that spider in the sky. that spider in the sky is what feeds him after all.

he’s fighting you now, literally. your punches are actually landing and he’s hissing in pain, rubbing his arm where you punched, glaring daggers at you. you fall off his shoulder and land on the ground, making you groan momentarily before quickly getting up.

“you’ve gotta be’ joking—“ he groans to himself as he watches you scurry off in the direction of the closest exit gate. it’s like a game of cat and mouse, danny quickly getting back up to chase you down like some pyscho. (he doesn’t like to admit he’s a little crazy in the head.)

it takes another few minutes for him to have you down again, seconds before you managed to leave the exit gate. his heart was pounding but once he slashed you and you fell to the ground, he was quick to slam his foot on your back and hold you in place. you were panting and wheezing underneath his bloody boot, a sharp groan leaving you as our cheek hits the dirty grass.

“ow, that hurts.” you whine, squirming around. now that you’ve accepted the fact you’re prone to die, you instead set your heart on annoying the fuck out of him until you draw your last breath.

“yeah. too,” he punctuates each word with a jab to your back, “fuckin. bad.” he’s had enough of you for a while. if he gets paired up with you within the next week again he might just go crazy. clinically insane isn’t much of a stretch either.

“just kill me already, don’t drag this on.” you huff, glaring at him as you peer over your shoulder. he smirks at you, a thought flashing in his head. he grabs you by under your armpits, picking you up flawlessly. you yelp and squirm at the action, not liking being so close to the slasher.

“get off me—“

“shhhh, lemme have my fun before i sacrifice you.”

now, when he said fun, you were expecting to be thrown around and stabbed for a good hour. maybe two, you had pissed him off a lot. but you weren’t expecting to be bent over the nearest vault and have him shove your pants down, roughly fiddling with your panties before delivering a harsh slap to your pussy.

you gasp immediately as the impact has you clenching down, jolting and squirming. you try to get free but he delivers a sharp smack to your thigh and you can hear the sound of his robe rustling.

“you’re gonna regret this, you know.” you mumble weakly, already feeling so humiliated that you’d even let yourself get into this position. maybe you wouldn’t mind as much if it was wesker or myers, they were hot, but this guy wears a mask! and his personality is ten times more terrifying then any other killer, with his dumb ass jokes and cocky attitude.

“mmm, you’re gonna regret this, you know.” he mocks as he pumps his cock a few times in his hand, hissing lowly at the friction. his mocking tone makes you shudder and look down in a defeated manner, coming to terms with the fact he won and was now about to fuck you as revenge. this day couldn’t be any worse.

“i hope your cock falls off mid thrust—“ you mumble before getting interrupted by the feeling of him sliding his head inside you. it was so thick for what? he did not need a cock that thick, jesus. your lips pressed together in hopes of concealing the loud moan you wanted to let free, hands gripping the vault edge tightly as he slid himself deeper into your hole. it didn’t feel good, no, not at all, not even a little. maybe a little.

he snickers and wraps one arm around your neck, squeezing it for funsies as he feels himself twitch inside you. his other hand secures itself around your waist. he gives a little shallow thrust as a test, wanting to see how wet you were.

“fuckin’ christ, girl. you’re so wet, what happened to all that i hate you bull shit? hmm?” he laughs meanly at you as he presses deeper, his hip bone flush against your round butt. your soapy walls clench around him so tightly that he’s already seeing stars, the wet feeling giving him enough friction to want to cum already.

“i-i do hate you..” you whimper softly. you’re almost ashamed of how pathetic you sound already as he pulls out, only for him to snap his hips back against yours harshly. you gasp at the feeling of his cock hitting that deep part inside you.

“this pussy doesn’t.” he laughs even more.

you attempt to glare and swat at him but he suddenly starts ramming his cock into you, making you shriek and grab at the vault. he’s brutal, mean, and fast, not caring about your comfort at all. why would he, he hates you.

“someone’s quiet all of a sudden.” he groans between thrusts, battering your insides just the way he likes, not giving you much time to breath as he slams himself deeper with each thrust. the slapping sounds of your flesh meeting has you mewling in embarrassment, eyes rolled back and mouth agape. he doesn’t let down on his pace, instead squeezing your neck tightly which ends with you clenching down on him.

he hisses and pulls your hair harshly, making you shriek. he’s fucking into you with all his force, focusing on cumming and pushing his cock as deep as it can go. your squeaky noises remind him of a dog toy. he snickers and squeezes your neck tight, restricting your air flow without much care in doing it safely. the sight of you passing out on his cock wouldn’t even be half bad.

a sharp smack stings your butt cheek as he continues thrusting, watching how the blood from your fellow survivors makes a subtle hand print on your flesh. he hums in approval.

“ohhh, you’re getting tight now, baby. are you really gonna cum all over me?” he scoffs and presses your hips further against him, pulling in and out in a brutal pace, listening to your soft cries and squeaky moans. “i thought you were strong? talking so much shit, saying how i’m a try hard.. hmmm, if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you’re the sore loser, baby.”

his mean words have you clenching down and blushing, looking down in humiliation. why did he have to be so mean with his words? right when you were about to cum too? and why did it make you wetter? wow, you really are messed up.

“s-shut u-up, mfffhh…” you gasp into the air as your orgasm washes over you, coating his cock in your pretty white juice. the sound of him thrusting turns more wet and shlick, making you redden in embarrassment. he groans lowly as you explode around him. he mutters a phrase about you being a dumb bitch that’s ungrateful before he bucks his hips forward and feels himself cum hard inside you. he hasn’t gotten laid in a while, so he has a lot packing.

“fuuucckkkkkk..” he hisses, his grip on you tight and bruising. there’s a moment of silence where he stands behind you with his cock fully sheathed still, panting and regaining his breath.

the next thing he does isn’t unexpected but still definitely not welcome. he slams his knife into your back, making you scream loudly in pain as tears well up in your eyes. one hand presses it deeper, the feeling of your flesh being ripped making you sob, while his other hand grabs his camera.

he positions his camera infront of your face and presses his finger on the trigger, snapping a cute little selfie with your naked body infront of him, the sight of his cock inside you from behind and the bloody knife in your back all getting captured.

“oh yeah, i’m definitely jerking off to this later.” he snorts.

[bisexualcage]

CAGE CON | Chapter One

Johnny Cage x Trans male reader

Pairing: Johnny Cage/Trans male/masc reader

Warnings: none for now! but this is gonna be a 18+ fic, so MDNI 🔞

Word Count: 1828

A/N: this is an ongoing series! so there will be other chapters!

As soon as you saw that a Cage Con was gonna be held in your city you could practically feel your heart drop to your ass. You stared at the announcement of the event on your phone for a few minutes in a state of shock before snapping out of it and looking through your bank account.

“…fuck.” you mumble, rubbing your head in frustration as you see you only had about 12 bucks and a simple autograph signing with THE Johnny Cage was 60 bucks. In retrospect, seeing as he’s a worldwide known action star that was relatively cheap but you’ve always been dirt poor. So you struggled as you tried to come up with a solution to see your favorite actor of all time, but ended up with no solutions.

You finally decided to attend Cage Con and at least buy the entrance ticket. Maybe if you were unbelievably lucky you’d see him walking around or come out to greet fans waiting outside his autograph signing. And that was just hopeful thinking, as soon as you got there the line was eternally long almost reaching the exit doors. You sigh to yourself, rubbing your eyes in frustration.

“Hey! can I take a picture? i really like your costume.” a feminine voice said near you, to which you snap out of your solemn state immediately.

“Oh- me? thank you. It’s just some ninja costume I put together last minute.” You chuckle shyly, but nod to their picture request.

As soon as they pose to take a picture next to you, you hear some commotion from people in the back of the line but ignored it as the girl snapped the picture.

“thank you!” The girl waved and walked off, you were about to utter a you’re welcome but she was already gone through the crowds of costumed people, loads of johnny cages and loads of his movie characters. Some Tarkatans though, which surprised you.

“You see how it feels? welcome to my world.” A deep yet energetic voice said behind you, everyone around you goes bonkers and you go completely pale as you turn to face the person. The voice extremely familiar.

It was Johnny. In the flesh, in front of you holding out a hand for you to shake with his usual shades and enthusiastic pearly smile. You try to talk but nothing comes out except a low “Hello..”

Johnny studies your reaction with his unwavering charismatic smile, looking down at your cheap last minute ninja costume with amusement. “You a fan pal? Stupid question right? we’re at Cage Con for christ sake. Nice to meet you, cool fit mister ninja! even though I can’t see your face with that mask.” Johnny chuckles as he takes your shaky hand in his and holds it.

“Yeah- I’m a fan. A huge fan. Honestly i didn’t even think you’d come out here to the floor-“ You finally were able to move your mouth, his hand still shaking yours for an unexpectedly long time which made you grow fiery red under your ninja mask.

And thank god for masks.

Johnny scoffs, “Why not? I know not everyone can afford a signature— so i come out here sometimes to greet all the beautiful Johnny Cages and Jannettes.”

A fan with a Tarkatan costume approaches and yells with a bunch of others, interrupting your moment with Johnny.

“…And beautiful Tarkatans of course! See you inside the signing hall?” He walks backwards with a grin.

“Oh I don’t have tickets for the signing…” You say with an embarrassed tone.

“Don’t worry about it, get in line alright?” Johnny said vaguely before walking off, a bunch of fans screaming on top of their lungs as he made his way inside the signing hall.

You were stunned. Did your favorite actor just walk up to you, shake your hand, and say hello? Did he mean what he said? To get in line? Imagine getting into trouble. That being said, you nervously waited in line while the length of the queue gradually shrank. Your legs were killing you after nearly an hour had passed. As you make it to one of the security guards who was checking for ticket confirmation before entering to get your autograph you froze. Not knowing what to do or say, before you could utter anything the guards radio went off; “Words from Johnny, let the fella pass, over.”

The security guard made a studious expression at you before letting you pass with an apprehensive look. You turn warm, feeling your heart beating out of your chest. He really meant it huh? You were speechless beyond words as you walked in the signing room. There was Johnny on a table signing autographs and cracking jokes, laughing with some fans who were ahead of you.

“fuck fuck fuck…” you whisper to yourself in anxiety, clenching your fists. As the fans ahead of you leave and wave to Johnny you immediately freeze not moving as he sits there and waves you over.

Johnny scoffs and stares at your frozen figure with amusement, “Hey, mister ninja! Medusa got you or something? come here i don’t bite.”

“Oh- uhm- yeah sorry.” You walk over with heavy steps, still feeling on otherworldly from everything that’s happened.

Johnny’s smirk softens; signaling for you to sit next to him a chair as he takes out a signing poster of his. You hesitantly take a seat next to him; “It’s my first time at con, so i’m a little shaken up.” you try and play it off as if your nerves weren’t due to him but the event.

Johnny laughs, taking his shades off. Those big brown puppy eyes, his aura now seeming more approachable and soft. He didn’t look like an unreachable celebrity figure, just a cute guy.

“Don’t worry about it bro! You know how many people i’ve had sobbing in front of me and declaring their love for me today alone? your reaction is….a nice change.” Johnny smiles at you before glancing down at his poster before looking back up at you, studying your face before clearing his throat; “Anyways, how do you spell your name, sport?”

You chuckle a bit of redness around your neck as you spell it out for him.

“Thats a kickass name man.” he continues to write on the poster your name along something else that you couldn’t quite distinguish.

“Oh it’s kinda basic in my opinion but thank you.”

“Basic? you know many Steven’s and Emily’s i’ve met today?” He says partially joking as he looks up from signing the poster. “Plus, my name isn’t exactly the most unique if we’re being honest.” He said with a small grin, “Don’t get me wrong it’s badass though.”

You chuckle, “Yeah, it definitely is.”

“So hey, what’s your favorite film of mine? You said you were a big fan supposedly.” Johnny leans back on his chair and crosses his arms with a smile.

You clear your throat, “Oh, uhm, definitely Time Smashers.”

Johnnys eyes widen; “Finally! someone saying Time Smashers! most people say the most popular ones like Ninja Zombie but Time Smashers is one of my favorite projects. I spend so much time on that script.”

“I just recognize that work was put in to it, I can tell it was done from the soul. Thank you for letting me in by the way” You say shyly, avoiding his brown eyes.

Johnny stayed silent, observing your face with warmth a few seconds before speaking up; “No problemo! Say….you took your mask off.”

“Oh- yeah i did. I figured it wouldn’t be respectful if i just kept it on while meeting my favorite actor.”

Johnny chuckles and hands you the signed poster rolled up. “Yeah it would be very uncool, man.” He jokes.

You take the poster from him and stand; “hah well- Thank you so much.” you say quickly.

“Hold on hold on- the signing hall is pretty much cleared out. I’m done for the day you don’t gotta dash out so quickly. You want a selfie, pal?” Johnny stands with his hands in his pockets.

Your cheeks grow red, “Really? just like that?”

“Yeahhhhh, stop being such a wimp.” He says jokingly with zero malice behind his voice. “This is a lifetime opportunity for you and i’m feeling…very giving today.”

“Alright but- i’m horrible at selfies…” You scoff a bit.

“Don’t worry. i’m the master of photogenic photography.” Johnny took out his phone to which you raise an eyebrow in surprise. “I could send you the pictures later on, my phone has good quality.” Johnny brags before walking next to you and holding his phone up as he tries to find a good angle with you both.

“Cheese…” You say as you look at the camera shyly.

“nuh uh- do something fun! loosen up mister ninja! You can get close.” He smiles warmly as he looks at you and wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer.

“hah- alright-“ You cheeks turn redder as he holds up the phone again, you throw a peace a sign and he takes the selfie.

“Oh that one’s nice.” Johnny looked at the selfie on his screen, you peeked at it and smiled; his arm was around you and his pearly whites showing— his shades hanging from his buttoned up shirt. “What’s your number?”

You clear your throat and your eyes widen; “What? you whisper.

“Your phone number so I can send you the selfies, silly goose.” Johnny ruffles your hair a bit.

“Oh yeah of course- it’s- it’s- (phone number).” You mumble, still quite taken aback.

Johnny types your number in and texts you the selfies, making your phone buzz in your pocket. You fish out your phone and look at two selfies he sent, your smile contagious as you look down at your phone.

“Thank you so much man-“ You say with enthusiasm, “Id never thought this’d ever happen.”

Johnny pats your shoulder a bit; “It’s my pleasure.” He studies your expression a bit before speaking up again; “Say, keep the number.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Keep it. We’re pals now, no?”

You chuckle, “That quickly?”

“Hell yeah, you’re so chill. A dedicated cool person.”

“Alright. I’ll keep it.” You smile at him, your eyes so big and warm.

“Okie dokie, sport. I’m gonna get going it’s been a long ass day, but hey don’t be shy and text me up sometimes. I’m just a regular guy. Well not too regular, i’m above average but you get what I mean..” Johnny chuckles before patting your back one more time before leaving with his body guards out the semi empty convention through the back doors.

You stayed there for a moment in shock, trying to ground yourself. You then opened your signed poster up and saw his message; “To (name)! My greatest fan ever! Stay rockin it, I appreciate your support. P.S you look great without the mask :)”

“Oh my fucking god!“

[resident-idiot-simp]

Inspired by this

Ft: @steriotypicaloutlaw & @existentialgaybirdnerd

I like to imagine Simon just randomly shows up places to do things for fun since he's legally dead. A random marathon here. A random convention there. Maybe there's a thread on 4chan or something wondering who the hell this guy is

Bird- "I swear I saw this guy before, he won (extremely specific race)" and there's a whole board about him

He just shows up around the world randomly and does incredible feats and then disappears again

Bird- "This guy shows up, kicks everyone ass at ANYTHING, then disappears without a trace. He's gotta be a superhero of SOME SORT"

Someone catches him in the wild one time holding the hand of this dude with a mohawk.

StO- Imagine Gaz having followed said board, also never saw Ghost without the mask or balaclava, and then he sees him there and he's just like, "I get to see him live!" And then Price reacts the way he does and Gaz is just like, "Wait! I know mystery Batman guy?!?"

Bird- "Mystery Batman guy is my SUPERIOR OFFICER? "

But they can trace Soap they know who this guy is. Imagine like a million people from 4chan just dog pile him in every social media platform wondering who the hell the man is. Soap knows about this I also bet you money ghost haunts the thread he knows everything he does this stuff on purpose at this rate.

And he made soap promise never to say a word. So soap gas lights like he's never gaslit before. I don't know who you're talking about that is not me you're delusional. 'It is you though'. No I was never there with a person ever in my life.

Bird- "Idk who tf you think that is, but I'm way more handsome than that"

Of course they can't fool Gaz but they do recruit him into the game. Laswell also knows about this

Bird- Laswell had been on the board since it started lol

At first it was just to make sure his identity didn't get leaked and now it's just for fun

Bird- She gives them vague hints in the wrong direction, photo shopping specific events that didn't happen to make it seem like he gets out more than he does.

Bro one time the catch Ghost in Cancun just surfing. No one knows where he went after they tried to follow It didn't work.

Bird- This man has fans all around the world but they can never get a picture of him without his permission.

What really gets people is he can be found across the world in very short periods of time. People assume he must be like one of those hidden billionaires.

Bird- That's why he's Batman to them

One time they got a picture of him super injured though and now they are convinced he's a superhero

Bird- There's a whole folder of circumstantial evidence of him being hurt and everyone going "evidence he's a superhero"

He is most often found is not in ridiculous events in Scotland and that is more evidence that he's connected to John MacTavish even though MacTavish denies everything. People are unsure if MacTavish is like his sidekick or butler or secret boyfriend/husband.

Ghost convinces him to do weird events as well and dominate them just to confuse the forum.

Bird- They're both superheros in their own right just a few months later according to the forum

One time the are spotted together at a log throwing competition. Then MacTavish at an art exhibit (Ghost is barely visible in the background). Next week in Cuba doing an eating competition.

Three days later San Diego Comic-Con. No one understands anything that's going on.

Bird- Ghost and Soap have a fun time reading through all the shit. They're in full cosplay too, they're only recognized because of Soap's Instagram story the day after and then everyone explodes because they SAW them but didn't recognize them until them. Ghost as scream and Soap as Jason.

Imagine one time they just show up on TV or the news in the background

Bird- There's a parade going on in the background and they show up as performers or part of the audience. The news reporters don't catch them as they wave enthusiastically to the camera.

They come to the conclusion that they know about the forums and then it becomes trying to dig out the rat.

Bird- They try to sus out the account that could be one of them, little do they know Ghost is one of the longest running ones there so his account isn't suspected at all times.

I imagine a random selfie gets uploaded to the forum as well.

Bird- He posts a selfie from a "found" social media that just HAPPENS to be "deleted" before anyone else can access it.

The people on the forum are extremely happy though that this random probably superhero is playing along.

He shows up in the Winter Olympics next. And he crushes the biathlon by a scary margin. After he gets the gold he proposes to Soap

Soap's bio gets updated to John MacTavish Riley. Soap continues to gaslight. That has always been my full name YOU'RE all delusional.

I imagine they only get their answers possibly after they all retire

Bird- Simon gets unkilled by law and is allowed to retire with Soap. They make a video explaining how they were fucking with people for entertainment and post it to the forum and everyone loses it lol.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Hii idk if you are still taking stories but have you considered like a straight stalker au? Like instead of Dabi becoming a stain fan he became a Shig fan after the usj incident? Or somehow shig had seen Dabi on the streets when he was still homeless and instantly obsessed.. maybe some kidnapping or something 

Dead dove elements with this one including: Stalking (obviously), obsession, possessiveness, imprisonment, domestic submission, dub-con (is it dub-con if the character is enthusiastic but clearly mentally unwell?)

So yeah, Dabi gets obsessed with Shigaraki and the League of Villains because they attacked UA and rocked All Might's shit, and put his little brother in a bad situation, so he's definitely interested, and he starts to investigate and eventually follow Shigaraki around because he wants to know more about the League. Problem is he starts to get weirdly obsessed with him because Shigaraki Tomura is a weird little freak and he does not get why AFO wants him to be his successor.

One day he breaks into the base to creep on Shig's computer and he gets caught, Shig knocks him out and then Dabi wakes up locked in the basement of the bar where Shigaraki interrogates him. He goes through Dabi's phone and things and eventually pieces together that Dabi is completely a stalker, but not a hero or a cop, which is interesting enough that he decides to keep him around-- locked up in the basement for his amusement. As far as Dabi knows, no one else knows that he's down there and he's really getting worried what's going to happen to him the next time Shigaraki comes back.

Turns out that Shig wants to see how far Dabi's obsession goes, and he starts giving him little things, his attention, verbal praise, mild physical touches as praise (patting his head, stroking his cheek, things like that), whenever Dabi does something he likes. Dabi becomes a puppy in a matter of weeks. He has no desire to leave the basement, he just wants to stay with Shigaraki at all times.

Shigaraki converts the basement to being something that looks like a 1950s household and gets Dabi acting like his wife and Dabi is so happy, he is fully in that space and doesn't even remember that he's technically a prisoner. He's just completely happy to be with Tomura. Though Dabi does start to unintentionally poke holes in Shig's programming from AFO because he asks him about 'work' and in those conversations (that AFO doesn't know Shig's having) Dabi is able to start pulling out the threads of his manipulations.

So Shigaraki steals a shit-ton of AFO's funds, tips off the heroes during one of his teacher's next surgeries, and goes to live in a safe house by the sea with Dabi where he becomes the new AFO moving around villains from the shadows and enjoying his domestic bliss with his perfect pet.

[uselessheretic]

maybe a silly question, but what does the term “izzy canyon” mean? it conjures up a mental image of “the metaphorical place where izzy hands enjoyers hang out/got kicked into” but I dunno if it’s a hashtag or a group chat or a state of mind or why it’s a canyon specifically (I guess con sounds like can?) the mastodon con makes it seem pretty organized!

not a dumb question at all!

"metaphorical place where izzy hands enjoyers hang out/got kicked into" might actually be the most succinct and on the nose description i've heard of it lmao

it is really mostly just a way to refer to izzy hands fans who tend to interact in the same corner of fandom.

the idea started sometime last year when an izzy fan got doxxed after receiving hate mail for a few months. a burner account posted the person's city and possible locations for the chain they worked at, along with a list of other users they said they would target next (seemed to just loosely be people in the same circle as them? weirdly enough my handle was on there too despite not knowing each other)

nothing further developed from that situation and the person was okay, but understandably it kicked off a wave of izzy fans blocking anyone who had a habit of harassing izzy fans, along with running blockchains on the most vocal ones who'd start dogpiles. around the same time, someone made an "izzy haters" twitter and izzy haters group chat which just intensified "okay just block all of them because that is a huge red flag for incoming networked harassment"

tldr izzy fans grew a reputation for being very heavy blockers. it became an in joke within the community that izzy fans didn't ever know what was going on when the general fandom had new memes, or more likely, new discourse because of the huge block wall between the groups.

almost as if they were at the bottom of a canyon, doing their own thing, and not paying attention to whatever was going on outside. hence the izzy canyon. i think it's also at least 30% a joke about izzy's genitals as well.

so yeah, just generally people who like the same character and hang out in the same social circles. i think because it's the part of fandom most vocally anti harassment, it also has a funny habit of absorbing in fans who don't necessarily like izzy, but had been targeted as part of a harassment campaign or in general just tired from fandom in general.

it pretty much functions like its own mini fandom within fandom? and as a group is very enthusiastic and also freakishly well organized so they end up more likely to do things like make regular fanweeks, set up a blog for doing fandom research and polls, organize a boat tour for a convention, or laying out detail instructions for test running mastodon for week to see how viable it is as a platform.

[helicrazy]

About

Designation: Vortex

Height: 27 feet

Alt Mode: Apache helicopter

Faction: Neutral. Decepticon. Under the Command of Onslaught.

Occupation: Interrogator. Does a lot of criminal work as a side hustle. 

Holoform: Wrench from Watch Dogs 2/ Legion.

Voice Claim: Jason Statham. [x]

Appearance: 

Teal/ Purple/ Grey. [x]

Claws & fangs. 

Snakebite, tongue, and interfacing piercings. 7 in total.

Personality: 

Vortex is rude, cruel, and shows no remorse BUT he can also be charming, enthusiastic, and very humorous. Sometimes it’s an act to throw people off, other times he’s just being himself and perhaps wants to get to know you without having to tear you apart, or maybe he will. It all depends on his mood and how his day has been going. One moment he’s the guy you go drinking and hanging out with, the next you’re tied up in his basement because he thinks it’s funny and ‘We were having such a blast before, why the frowny face now?’ 

His mind works in mysterious ways and definitely has a few screws loose up there. He can be a real rollercoaster sometimes, changing his attitude and behavior on the dime without warning. Not even the Combaticons or close friends are safe from his mischief.

He doesn’t understand emotions very well and will struggle when it comes to talking about feelings. Pressuring will only result in him getting frustrated and possibly lashing out.

Will picks fights even if he knows the odds are against him. Regardless of previous or current faction. He’s in it for the pain and game, not so much the winning part. 

Weaknesses:

Small confined spaces.

Rotor Hub/ Rotors vulnerable. This could result in being grounded/ unable to flee from extreme levels of danger.

My personal Headcanons for Vortex:

He is able to unhinge his jaw.

In his helicopter mode he has thrusters to go faster while his rotors fold back. (Like in the Fall Of Cybertron game.)

Rotors are his swords. 4 in total. They also act as his sensors and are very sensitive to touch.

Without his visor, he is partially blind. An injury that happened during the war. He can see shapes and colors and can sometimes make out what things are, but everything’s blurry. He doesn’t get them fixed because the problem is more internal with the wires and cables, and he doesn't trust anyone enough to get them properly fixed.

----------

Hi! Mun here. Call me Steph. Discord is available on request but only if we have chatted before.

I’m a 28 y/o who’s been in the TF Fandom since 2011, a Combaticon fan since 2012, and has been roleplaying (on and off) for about 10+ years.

Besides robots, I’m a horror fanatic.

Unlike Vortex, I’m much easier to approach, though terrible at socializing lol. I tend to keep to myself for the most part.

I also work full-time at a Dog Daycare!

Face reveal? When/If I ever go to a TF Con.

[thelittlemissfortune]

Yuuya cosplay from a few weeks ago! My wig... did not survive the trip well, although it wasn’t the best styled to begin with ;; 

I had so much fun being Yuuya again, honestly living the dream

Bird plushie and blazer made by @radariant 

[heich0e]

part of the bff's little brother!tobio series

"what are they talking about?"

tobio's eyes lift from the plate of food in front of him to meet yours just for a fleeting moment. the blue looks darker in the evening, lit only by the yellow lights hanging overhead of your table on the patio of the little restaurant the two of you had come to eat at for dinner.

he glances around at the other restaurant guests, all of whom seem to know one another, bouncing from one table to the next while music plays over the boisterous din of conversation.

he wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, realizing a second too late he should have used his napkin, and then looks back to you--waiting with eager anticipation for his translation.

"they're all from the same family, i think. there was a wedding... or maybe a funeral?" he explains with a furrowed brow, having caught only bits and pieces of conversation that he could make out.

your lips part and your head swivels around to survey the crowd. people laughing, drinking, and eating to their hearts' content. there are two half-drunk men set up in one corner of the patio with an accordion and a guitar, playing away while everyone else chats loudly and enthusiastically in the way italians are known to do. you're grateful that tobio's around to act as your translator for the evening.

"it's so..." the string lights overhead twinkle in the corner of your eyes as you turn back to look at him, your expression soft, "...different to back home."

he blinks, like he's not quite sure what to say to that.

two giggling children rush past your table holding hands, and you watch them pass with a smile.

"like a different world almost," you add, then laugh lightly. "can you imagine something like this at sakanoshita market?"

"do you like it?" tobio asks.

your nose scrunches up in a perplexed little expression.

"i love it," you reply, your tone almost incredulous--like you can't quite believe you need to say it at all. "part of me wishes i could stay here forever."

the scrape of tables catches your attention again, and it seems the other restaurant goers are clearing a space on the cobbled stone to dance.

"bella! bella!" a little girl with a flower in her hair rushes towards your table and takes your hand, giggling. "balla con noi!"

"she wants you to dance with her," tobio explains when your eyes turn immediately to him.

another little girl appears--a sister maybe of the first--and peeks at tobio from behind the other's shoulder.

"anche tu, signore?" she asks, and the two girls giggle to themselves.

"they want you to come too?" you ask as you stand from your seat.

"i'll stay here," tobio says gruffly, a consuming blush spreading across his cheeks.

you catch the sleeve of his shirt between your fingers as the two girls try to pull you away.

"please, tobi-chan?" you ask him, pouting slightly.

his blush deepens.

"maybe next time," he mumbles, and his sleeve slips from your grasp.

the little girls lead you to the open space and you're welcomed warmly by the strangers already there dancing, spinning in circles to the tune the band is playing with your two new friends' hands held tightly in your own. an older lady tucks a flower behind your ear to match the little girls' and you smile, thanking her in the little italian you know.

tobio watches from your table as you twirl around, laughing with the rest of them. watches the way the hem of your dress fans when you turn. how the lights overhead bathe you in the most delicate glow.

part of him wants to stand and join you, but he hasn't the slightest idea how to dance. and you make it so effortless, he's sure he'd look like an idiot trying. so he sits back in his chair, both of your meals forgotten on the table in front of him, and is content to just appreciate the view. the moment.

he wishes he could stay here forever too.

[rhysintherain]

They should bring David Tennant back on doctor who, but not in any of the ways fans have asked for.

They should recast him as the Master.

Think about it: the gleeful way he would take credit for stealing the Doctor's face, even if he had no control over it; the internal conflict between the desire to gloat about it and the desire to hide his identity until he can work in a dramatic reveal. It'd be epic comedy.

The Doctor and companions are going about their adventure, and pick up a kinda weird guy along the way, in sunglasses and a very obviously fake beard. Maybe a companion comments on how weird this dude is (because he is acting extremely strange), but strange things happen to them all the time, so they don't think much of it.

Then somewhere along the way the beard and glasses are ripped off, revealing him for who he truly is! The audience goes wild. The Master draws a breath to start his pre-written gloat,

Only to be met with a blank stare and a bit of a frown from his nemesis.

"should I know you?" They ask. "You look awfully familiar, but I just can't place it."

"weren't you on TV?" Their companion asks. "Maybe the one with the detective in the little village by the sea?"

The Master is beyond words. He's pulled off the most evil and unexpected plot of his entire life, he's stolen the Doctor's face for God's sake, and the Doctor didn't even notice. He's momentarily paralysed with indecision. He very badly wants to reveal his con, but to do that he would have to explain it first, and why it's so evil, and that would completely ruin the mood.

So he stays quiet, too flabbergasted to even carry out the next steps in his plan. He meekly follows the Doctor around, helps save the civilians, occasionally dropping a strained and desperate hint about why he looks familiar, but his heart isn't in it, and they all go over the Doctor's head anyway.

So he follows them back to the TARDIS, where a relieved former companion has been guiding them through their mission. Said companion sees who just followed them inside, and their jaw hits the floor.

"Doctor what are you doing here?" They ask, staring straight at weird beard man.

All heads pivot, first to the confused former companion, then to the Master, who's wearing the sort of huge, mad smile that only David Tennant can pull off.

At which point he launches enthusiastically onto his prepared gloat, on and on about how he stole the Doctor's face, how he'll ruin his reputation across the universe, how clever he was to make this possible, etc. etc.

And they should probably get this man out of the TARDIS, but no one thinks to do it. They just stare, trying to take in whatever the hell is going on, until he finishes his speech, realises he doesn't know what to do next, and dashes out the open TARDIS doors and runs away.

"so... He's not from TV then?" The companion asks tentatively after an uncomfortable silence.

The former companion shakes their head slowly.

"Huh. Did I really used to look like that?" The Doctor asks. "I could've sworn my ears were never that big. Those sideburns are new though, right?"

[anonymousfiction211]

Meeting Tom Hiddleston

Summary: Meeting Tom Hiddleston for the first time! (A girl can dream...)

Word Count: 3502 words

Warnings: Smut

The line moved slowly. You were already waiting for a very long time, but it would definitely be worth it. Luckily, you were not alone. Your best friends Eline and John were with you, who happened to be in a relationship with each other. This was your fist time at comic con, since none of your other friends ever wanted to go. And you were extremely nervous to see your favourite actor in real life. Finally, the line moved a few paces. The more the line moved the more nervous you got. You were about to be eye to eye with him. With possibly the most charming and handsome men on the planet.

You were wondering if he would be in a good mood, or would pretend to be in a good mood. He had been giving out autographs for a few hours. Since your friends wanted to go to another panel first, you barely made it in time to stand in line. You had thought long and hard about what you wanted him to sign. Eventually you decided on a book about Loki, which you have read quite a few times. It was not about the Loki that he played, the Marvel version, but the one from the Norse mythology. Your thoughts were disturbed when Eline let out a little shriek. ‘I can’t believe we’re finally going to meet him!’ she said excited. The two of you had planned this a few years back, when you both discovered that you were massive Loki fans. The deal was, if Tom Hiddleston ever came to your country, the two of you would go.

‘Oh my god, I’m so nervous. I don’t know what to say’ you replied. From the moment you had tickets to this event you were thinking about what to tell him. Everything you came up with sounded like a cliché, and he sure would be tired to hear the same thing for the hundredth time today. After some sleepless nights and driving yourself crazy, you thought you would come up with it while waiting in line. Well, you couldn’t be more wrong. Now that you were standing in line, you had forgotten every series and every movie you had ever seen him in. You knew he was your favourite actor, but why that exactly was you couldn’t explain if your life depended on it.

The line moved along again and you were now next in line. The two girls before you were giggling loudly and you heard Tom chuckling. You started to feel overwhelmed and thought about backing out. ‘(Y/N), relax. It will be fine’ John encouraged you. ‘I don’t do well with first impressions and if I screw this up I will never be able to sleep’ you argued. Your friend just laughed at you. The three of you had have this argument about a million times when you discovered that you would meet Tom. The girls before you left and now you stood eye to eye to Tom Hiddleston. He made eye contact with you and your mind just lost it. You froze in your spot. John laid a hand on your shoulder and whispered to you ‘This is the part where we walk towards him’. From his tone you heard that he was quite amused by your state and you felt like you had embarrassed yourself already.

The three of you walked towards the table. ‘Hello there’ Tom greeted you. Your friends immediately greeted him back and started to introduce themselves. ‘.. and this is (Y/N)’ you heard Eline say. ‘Nice to meet you (Y/N)’ Tom said to you. God that voice was going to be the death of you. ‘What can I do for you today’ he continued. Your two friends gave him each a Loki funkopop to sign and after that you handed him the book. He eyed the book and looked at you. ‘Have you read it?’ he asked you. When he saw your questioning face he just laughed to himself ‘Sorry, of course you have. Stupid question’. Out of nervousness you laughed too ‘No, stupid questions don’t exist right?’ ‘I have read the book, one of my favourites actually’ you explained. ‘From all the books and stories, I’ve read about Loki, I quite agree’ he told you. ‘So, who do you like better MCU Loki or Norse Mythology Loki?’ he asked you. ‘Not to be insulting, but Norse Mythology Loki, actually’ you said, hoping he didn’t notice the blush on your cheeks. His face looked amused and you saw a twinkle in his eyes that confirmed your suspicion, that Tom and your all-time favourite trickster shared some qualities. ‘And why is that?’ he asked in his low voice while leaning a bit more forward.

‘Well, the Loki from Norse Mythology wouldn’t be stupid enough to try and kill Thanos with a butter knife’ you replied. You were shocked to hear yourself say that. The words had left your mouth before you even registered what was happening. Like you said, you really weren’t good in first impressions. You heard your friends laugh beside you. You were relieved when you heard Tom laugh also. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to insult you’ you quickly added. ‘You didn’t, darling’ he said. Great, if the blush on your cheeks wasn’t obvious, it sure would be now. ‘But remember, Loki does everything for a reason’ he said and gave you a wink. ‘I hope he does, I’m really excited for the series’ you said as steady as you could. Hoping you didn’t show how much that one wink effected you. ‘Glad to hear you say that. Do you want me to sign the cover or the inside?’ he asked you. A bit disappointed that after he signed it and you left this meeting, you would never see or speak to him again. ‘Inside, please’ you replied. Tom wrote something inside, but cut of the view with his arm. He closed the book and handed it back to you. ‘Best not to read it with your boyfriend standing next to you’ he said while handing it back to you.

Eline immediately grabbed John and pulled him closer. ‘Actually, John is my boyfriend. (Y/N) is single’ she said. The meaning behind her words couldn’t have been more obvious. If you could, you would have fainted right there and then, just to escape this embarrassment. You shot her an I’m-going-to-kill-you-for-this-look, but her look said that you would have done the same in her situation. And who were you kidding, you would have. ‘Really?’  Tom asked. The tone of his voice made your knees weak. ‘’Yeah, still wating for prince charming on his white horse, I guess’ you chuckled, not knowing how to respond to this. ‘Not for a skilled sorcerer with a God complex? Tom replied teasingly. ‘If Loki really existed I would take that chance’ you replied in all honesty. At this point the security guard behind Tom cleared his throat. ‘Mr. Hiddleston, we need to get going’ he said. Tom nodded at the security guard before turning his attention back to you. ‘Unfortunately, that is my que to get going. But I would love to explain to you why Loki tries to stab people with butter knifes. If you like?’ he said to you. You nodded quickly, more time with Tom was not something you would turn down. ‘Yes’ you said a bit too enthusiastic. Tom just laughed a little at your energetic reaction. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down the address and room number of his hotel ‘Here is the place I’m staying. Let’s say around 10pm if that’s not too late? I think it’s going to be a long day today. We can have a drink and talk more’ he said to you. ‘Your friends are more then welcome to join if they want’ he quickly added. You smiled at him ‘Sure, see you tonight’ you said. With that the three of you left and Tom got up to go to his next event.

‘Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god’ your friend started to chant once the three of you were in the main hall. ‘I can’t believe that he asked you out!’ she exclaimed. You furrowed your brows ‘Look, I can’t believe either that he wants to spend more time with me. But it isn’t a date. I’m not going alone, you two will be there as well’ you answered. Your friend shot each other a look before the shifted their focus back on you. ‘You’re going alone’ the said simultaneously. ‘What? How about you two come with me for moral support like good friends are supposed to do?’ you asked them. ‘We are making you go alone so you can have some time with your all-favourite actor. Who knows what will happen when you two are alone’ John said to you. ‘That is what good friends are supposed to do’ Eline added with a smile. And you knew it didn’t matter how much you argued, you were going and you were going alone. 

The day passed and you had a blast with your friends. The nerves within you were building up about tonight tough. At the end of the day, you and Eline went shopping for an outfit for tonight. She insisted that you wore a dress, but you had successfully declined that. Dresses weren’t really much your thing and you didn’t want Tom to think that you were expecting or trying something. After all, it was just a talk about Loki, a drink and he even had invited your friends. Eventually, you found a pair of black jeans and a dark green t-shirt. It was a bit Loki styled, but your friend assured you that Tom would appreciate that.

In the evening => You got out of the cab and were more nervous when you saw the luxury of the hotel. Maybe you were a bit underdressed you thought. After a few deep breaths you mastered the courage to walk into the hotel. The man behind the desk eyed you and asked if he could do anything to help you. You knew that he was really asking what the hell you were doing here. You told him that you came to visit Tom in room 325. After a quick phone call, he smiled politely at you, explained how to get there, and told you to have a nice evening. You got into the elevator and pressed the button for the third floor. You took a few more deep breaths. Maybe you should have brought something you started to contemplate. Why hadn’t you thought about that before? When the elevator reached the floor, your breath hitched when Tom was standing suddenly in front of you. Amused by your reaction he greeted you politely. To your shock he even hugged you once you were out of the elevator. ‘Are you alone?’ he asked you while walking towards his hotel room. ‘Yeah, my friends rather wanted a quiet night alone’ you lied to him. I mean, you couldn’t possibly tell him why you were here alone. ‘That just means we have the chance to get each other better’ Tom replied.

Tom’s hotel room was pretty big. It was still a simple hotel room but he had a large sitting area with comfy couch and a tv. He told you to make yourself at home, so you sat down on the couch. ‘Sorry, I didn’t think to bring something’ you said to him. He just told you that you didn’t had to bring something. He asked you what you wanted to drink. Luckily for you he had wine, maybe alcohol would calm your nerves a bit. He poured two classes of red wine and sat next to you on the couch. You noticed that he sat fairly close to you. Something you both love and hated at the moment. ‘I like the colours you’re wearing, very Loki-like’ he said to you. ‘Thanks’ you blushed, not knowing how to take this compliment. Luckily, Tom changed the subject about Loki and the Marvel Universe. After some time, your nerves calmed down and you actually had a blast. It was fun to talk to Tom about Loki, hobby’s, and he even took an interest is your life. When Tom handed you a glass with only a little wine in it he said ‘Sorry, I’m afraid that the second bottle is already gone’. You were shocked ‘The SECOND?’  you asked him. He just laughed at you ‘Time flies when you’re having fun I guess’. That is when you looked at the clock. It was past 1 o’clock at night. ‘Oh shoot, it’s already late. Sorry. I should go’ you stammered a bit. ‘No apologies, I’ve had a great time. And do you really think I’m letting a woman go home alone at this time at night?’ he said while raising his eyebrow.

‘Assuming from your tone, I guess not?’ you replied. ‘You’re staying here. You can have the bed and I’ll sleep on the couch if you want to. But I’m not letting you travel alone at this time’ he said. You saw him think over his words ‘I mean, if you really want I will take you home. I don’t want you to feel forced to stay here’ he added. You already heard your friends voice in your head telling you what an idiot you were if you actually went home right now. And to be honest, you didn’t want to go home. Things with Tom felt naturally. ‘If you don’t mine I’d like to stay for the night’ you said and immediately saw Tom’s face lit up. ‘But either we sleep both in the bed or I’ll sleep on the couch. I’m not having you sleep on the couch in your own room’ you added. It was a bold move, but the alcohol made you forget all your nerves. Tom just gave you a wide grin ‘Bed it is’ he said to you. The two of you talked and laughed more and eventually finished the wine. Tom had put his arm on the armrest around you and you sat to face him. The two of you sat really close to each other. When you put down the glass you looked in his eyes. He met your gaze and there was a long silence. His hand cupped your cheek and he leaned in ‘Can I?’ he asked while maintaining eye contact. ‘Yes’ you replied to give him your consent. You felt his lips on your, it was soft and he kissed you slowly.

When you kissed him back the kissing got more heated. Tom grabbed your waist to pull you closer and you laid your hands around his neck. After a make out session that made you feel like you were a teenager again, he broke the kiss. ‘Should we go to the bedroom?’ he asked you while catching his breath. You nodded and he laughed at you. He got up and stretched out his hand for you to take. You took his hand and he led you to his bedroom. When you entered he closed the door behind you. He immediately starting to kiss you again while walking you back to the giant bed. While you were walking you started to undo the many buttons of his white shirt. Once they were all unbuttoned, your hands roamed his chest and his abbs. You felt Tom slightly moan at your touch. He pulled the shirt of himself and you felt the back of your legs against the bed. Tom laid you down gently and grabbed the hem of your shirt. You moved your arms up so he could take it off you. For a moment he froze and eyed the sight of you laying underneath him on the bed in your bra. You chuckled at his reaction and pulled him closer for a kiss.

You undid his belt and opened his pants. He slides his pants down and was now laying on top of you in nothing but his underwear. You clearly felt his erection against your core, making you more wet. Tom unhooked your bra and started to kiss down your neck. When he reaches your breasts, he took his time. He started to kiss them, bite them, and roll his tongue around your nipples. Your nipples hardened and you moaned shamelessly from his actions. Once he was satisfied he trailed his kissing downwards. He reached the top of your pants. He looked up to make eye contact with you, while he undid the button of your pants. He hooked his fingers from the top and pulled your pants and underwear down simultaneously. ‘I wanted to do this the first moment I saw you’ he said to you. His tongue was circling your clit, but his eyes never left your gaze. The sight of Tom between your thighs looking at you was adding to the intensity of the pleasure he was giving you. When you were starting to pant from his tongue you saw him smile.

He trailed his kissing back upward and reached your mouth. You could taste yourself on him, which was adding to your lust. You took charge and moved so Tom was on his back. You slowly trailed his underwear down and he shuddered in anticipation. He quickly pulled open his nightstand and grabbed a condom. He handed it to you. You grabbed his hardened cock and he moaned immediately when you touched it. Slowly you started to move your wrist up and down and Tom was bucking his hips to create more friction. After some time, Tom was all worked up ‘Please (Y/N), ride me’ he begged you. You opened the condom package with your teeth and slowly put the condom around his cock. You startled his legs, grabbed his cock, and slowly let him enter you. You started out the same slow pace when you teased him with your hand. Tom grabbed your hips to increase the pace. You leaned downwards to kiss his neck and discovered his sweet spot. When you kissed the crook of his neck he almost yelled. ‘Oh god (Y/N)’ he said loudly. You were still riding him and gasping for air. He hit all the right spots and it felt so good to have him inside of you. You felt his hands trail down to your lower back and he carefully laid you on your back.

He was on top of you and thrusting faster inside of you. He tried the kiss you but the two of your were moaning uncontrollably. At this point you were more breathing each other in then actually kissing, but you loved every second of it. The way his breath felt on your skin, his lips ghosting over yours and his tongue occasionally sliding in your mouth. Suddenly a wave of pleasure flooded over you and you came hard crying out his name ‘O god Tom!’ you screamed. You laughed when you saw the smug look on his face. You grabbed his ass and squeezed it. He began to moan out loud again. His thrusts were getting wilder and you knew he was close. After a few more thrusts he thrusted one more time as deep as he could. He grunted loudly and stayed in that position for a few seconds. After that he collapsed on top of you, but supported himself a bit to make sure he didn’t crush you. Once he caught his breath he moved to his side of the bed. He went to the bathroom to get rid of the condom and after that you went to clean yourself. When you came back Tom laid in bed, waiting for you with a large grin on his face.

You crawled into the bed and he immediately pulled you close to him. The two of you cuddled in silence for a while and you felt yourself become sleepy. ‘So, what are your plans tomorrow?’ he asked you. ‘I am going with my friends to a museum, then some sightseeing and at the night we grab a bit to eat and go out you replied. ‘What are you going to do?’ you asked. He sighed loudly ‘Oh, well. I fly back in three days and in the meantime I have time to kill, but don’t know anybody here. It sure would be lovely to spend a day like that in your company’ he said a bit too obvious while pulling you close. ‘Are you trying to invite yourself?’ you giggled. ‘Hm.. maybe I am. Would you mind that?’ he asked you. ‘No, you are more then welcome to join us. I just thought that after tonight you maybe didn’t want to’ you replied. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck ‘Darling, the first thing I’m going to do tomorrow is ask your phone number, because I really like to see you again’ he whispered. And with that you fell asleep.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream​

If you want to be added to the taglist, you can contact me :)

[fairestwriting]

May I rq hcs for Idia, Vil, Epel, Lilia and Floyd with a s/o who's a cosplayer and loves dressing up as mainstream characters

Idia Shroud

You know he loves it. Gets starry eyed everytime you show him a new cosplay, listens with the biggest smile on his face whenever you talk about what characters you want to go for next. If you post pictures of your work online, you bet he's your biggest hypeman.

Though... he does wish you'd branch out to some lesser known stuff too. Yeah, Idia's a bit of an elitist when it comes to media, and you don't really get the worst out of this side of his (Since he's so starstruck with your cosplay) but he'll be tugging at your sleeve, recommending you all sorts of obscure anime and games, because to him that stuff's just so much better.

Still your number one fan though. Whenever he has it in him to go to cons, he'll gladly come to them with you, looking so proud whenever anyone asks you for a picture as he steps away.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil doesn't get much about this sort of culture, so there isn't a huge interest overlap like in Idia's case, but he can appreciate good costuming, and just a well done job in general, so he's pretty involved and supportive, just in a less enthusiastic way.

Even though he doesn't know these characters at all, despite them being mainstream, you can totally have a conversation with him about the more general aspects of cosplaying, he has a lot to say when it comes to the proccess of putting the outfits together, due to his experience with costuming from his acting work.

Won't go to cons with you, that's way too many sweaty people for his taste, but he gives some good advice on how to avoid people who don't know what look but don't touch means.

Epel Felmier

Another one that doesn't get the media-focused aspect of cosplaying much. Epel can probably recognize a couple characters you dress up as, but he's just not that into the stuff. He does think it's cool, though, and when he can see the similarities between the characters and your cosplays, he gets pretty excited.

Is vaguely scared by the amount of effort that goes into it as he begins to understand it more. Things like makeup, styling and caring for wigs, contact lenses, having to DYI accessories... Epel feels lost when you talk about it, and he knows he definitely couldn't do something like that at all.

Goes to cons with you if you invite him, though he has no idea what's going on around him. Will have a fun time if he can see stuff on the two or three shounens he's a fan of, though.

Lilia Vanrouge

Really into it actually. Lilia has a bit of an otaku streak too, and with how he saw other people online having that much fun with cosplaying, he felt compelled to try. He never got too serious about it, but seeing how good your cosplays look makes him wish he did.

You going mostly for mainstream content doesn't really bother him. You get recognized more often that way, right? Lilia sees the work you put into your costumes, he knows it'd be a shame if you just did all of that and no one paid much mind to it since they didn't know what character it was.

Will not only attend cons but also cosplay with you too! He jokes about not being nearly as good as you and usually goes for simpler characters, but you two will definitely have a blast together.

Floyd Leech

He thinks you look so cool! Really loves it whenever you show him your new finished costumes, they always have so much detail put into them! Floyd will circle around you and point them out, sometimes compare with what he remembers from previous cosplays, but either way he's just really enjoying how his Shrimpy looks, and will brag about it to anyone willing to listen.

However, he... doesn't understand the stuff going on behind the scenes, really. Maybe he recognizes a character or two but he isn't very invested in any shows or games, being very much the type to drop media in a whim, and all the work you have to do to put the costumes together just... eludes him.

He'll go to cons with you if he feels like it, though! Which ends up being pretty often, since there's always a thing or two at them that grab his attention. Floyd is a surprisingly good con buddy, easy to find in the crowd and scary enough that no weirdos dare to mess with you, plus he's just fun to be around.

if you wanna support my work, you can buy me a ko-fi or commission me!

[shorkbrian]

Anxious

Prelude - It took me three evenings to write this (EW that’s the longest I've ever taken) and it’s RLLY long (almost 10k) so be warned. The style is mean’t to be jumbled, grammatically incorrect, and awful, rushed, and incoherent. My day-to-day life process is like this but worse lol and I wanted to capture just the feeling of bad that exists. Have fun.

(Ps Kirishima is the subtlest of creeps here. Def a stalker, but good at lying, and reader is too gullible.)

Pairing - Yandere Kirishima X GN Reader

Warnings - anxiety, panic attack, non con, NSFW, idk the usual.

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/1qFMIjTe9esCDiytqUY19t?si=RrkIvlXMReyT6CYKEh6xdw

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Oh god, is that Pro-Hero Red Riot?

Your hands tremble as you lift your drink to your lips, take a shaky sip.

It feels too hot in here, is it hot? You scream internally.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Red Riot, your favorite Pro-Hero in the entire world, was currently standing in line at Starbucks, looking up at the menu with his big, dumb, handsome face. He was wearing his hero costume - meaning he was on-duty, abs out and mask on.

As usual, you had ordered your regular drink, immediately sat down (always the blue armchair by the window, the one with the little table next to it).  Normally you ignored each little tinkling of the bell above the door, the sound signaling another person entering the coffee shop. You just wanted to nurse your drink and look at stupid memes on your phone, try to gas yourself up for the day ahead, convince yourself that you would be able to get through whatever life decides to throw at you.

A particularly violent shake of the bell had your head snapping up, the loud noise startling you. 

And holy fuck.

Red Riot.

Your cheeks were burning as you lowered your eyes to your phone, knowing that the big man was moving up in line, then ordering, then probably moving to wait near the drink pickup.

Looking up was out of the question - you didn’t want to ogle the Hero and make him feel uncomfortable, or for him to catch sight of your stupid blushing. 

You almost dropped your drink the next time you raised it to your lips, your hands were so sweaty. 

And of course that little slip-up had your heart beating ever faster, embarrassed that you had almost made a mess all over yourself, self conscious that someone had seen, oh god, what if people were looking at you, thought you were dumb and couldn’t even drink correctly? Oh god.

You set your drink back onto the little table at your side. A quick glance upward (to check the clock, that’s where your eyes went) and you could see Red Riot out of the corner of your eye, smiling as he took a picture with a fan as they both waited for their respective drinks.

Wouldn’t that be cool, to get a picture with him? But oh, that would mean you’d have to stand up, stumble over awkwardly towards him. Could you leave your drink on the side table? Would your seat be taken before you got back?

The hero would probably be able to spot you from a mile away, see how weirdly you walk, how your body looked. The thought made you cringe; he was so muscled and fit and in-shape, he’d probably think you were fat, or maybe weak? He’d be disgusted, wouldn’t he.

If you managed to get close enough to ask him if he wouldn’t mind taking a picture with you, he’d have to hear your voice crack, see how you shook like a tiny chihuahua from nervousness, see how sweaty and flushed you were from the embarrassment of being alive, of being seen.

God, you hated yourself.

You could never approach the Pro-hero and ask for a picture. He’d see how revolting, how weird and nervous and pathetic you were.

Plus, you’d already talked to the barista to get your coffee, had walked to the coffeeshop all by yourself and committed yourself to the horrifying ordeal of being known and seen by society. You’d done enough today to make your anxiety skyrocket, your hands were already shaking so bad, it’s a miracle you hadn’t dropped your drink or your phone or done something stupid and embarrassing to call attention to yourself.

“Red Riot!” Your eyes flickered up at the barista shouting, saw Red Riot smile and compliment the barista as they handed over his drink, something large and brightly colored and sporting an ungodly amount of whipped cream on top.

Red Riot left the Starbucks, the bell above the door jingling just as violently as it had when he had entered - the man was enthusiastic about seemingly everything, even opening and closing a door.

That’s actually one of the reasons he was your favorite. Red Riot was so confident and self assured, beaming with positivity and kindness. It was clear to see that he loved his job, that he loved life. Of course, you had seen him have bad days - in a few of the interviews after big rescues or horrific fights, his smile seemed to waver a bit, his eyes getting misty as the casualties were mentioned.

But that just showed he was human. Sensitive.

You grabbed your drink again, grimaced as nausea washed over you in a gentle wave. You were such a nervous wreck. But Red Riot had left - the only people here now were the employees and the people waiting in line. You just prayed none of them would pay attention or take notice of you.

----

He was here again.

Holy fuck, he was here again!

This time you weren’t as nervous (a mild feeling of excitement could be felt), you could actually drink out of your Starbucks cup without shaking like a leaf.

The redheaded hero had gotten his drink already, once again something large and colorful and probably loaded with sugar.  But instead of leaving immediately, he moved to sit down and holy fuck - holy fuck he was walking right past you.

You didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to draw attention to yourself by moving - humans will subconsciously look towards movement, you knew that. But he walked further, you saw him sit down by the corner window, settling into the seat comfortably. He was wearing his hero outfit again, abs rippling as he leaned back, and out of the corner of your eye you could see him fiddling with his mask before taking it off and chucking onto the table in front of him.

Ah, so he was probably on a break.

Averting your eyes back to your phone, you tried to ignore his presence.  He was a human being, just like yourself, who deserved and probably appreciated his privacy. God knows, if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want fans to even think about you, much less look at you.

Minutes passed, maybe twenty? Thirty? But you had finished your drink. Now it was time to will yourself to your feet, to breathe, in, out. You were going to walk over to the trashcan, throw your drink cup away, and leave to walk back home.

Oh, but you were nervous.

You always felt nervous - this was a common occurrence, and each time you came here (you visited this Starbucks maybe twice a week)  there was always this fight with your anxiety.

People would look at you as soon as you stood up. Did you walk weird? Your body had weird proportions, people would be mocking you inside their heads as you walked. Your outfit wasn’t trendy, it didn’t fit your body right, you looked odd and out-of-place - that’s probably what people thought as soon as their eyes landed on you.

You’d get judged for your drink cup - the size, because people would probably think it was too big for somebody with your body. Or maybe too small? Would people think you don’t take care of yourself? 

Oh god, what if it slipped out of your hand as you were walking over? Even with it being empty, the noise of the cup hitting the floor would draw everyone’s eyes to you. They’d watch as you scramble to pick it up, and they’d probably think how clumsy and awkward and incompetent you were. 

And what if the trashcan was full? Would you carry your empty cup home with you? That would look weird, someone carrying an empty cup down the street. I mean, who does that? Well, you’d seen other people do it, watched them carry their drink until they reached a trashcan, and then throw it away. But what if there weren’t any public trashcans nearby? You’d look so odd, fumbling along trying so hard to walk normally, to not draw attention to yourself, to blend in with everyone.

Should you turn around to see if there was another trashcan in the Starbucks? Oh, but that might look stupid. The employees had seen you so often, you’d look like a fool for not knowing if there was another trashcan.

Ugh, and your walk. You have to focus on straightening your shoulders, keeping your back straight, moving your arms - just a little, not too much. Taking even steps, not walking with a heavy foot or making any stomping or scuffing sounds. 

There was so much to focus on, too much. And now you had been sitting here for five minutes, knuckles white as you gripped your empty drink cup. You looked like a moron.

You could do this.

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

Remind yourself that people didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to all of the lame little things that you did. You anxiety was misplaced, you worried about things too much, and everything was fine.

You were okay, you could do this.

And so you stood, walked to the trashcan by the door (oh thank god, it was empty), and threw your cup away.  

You heard Red Riot saying bye to the employees, his cheery, upbeat voice as he laughed at something one of them said. Oh, had something been said about you? Were the employees and Red Riot laughing about what a disaster you were? 

No, you were just being nervous, that was your anxiety talking. Red Riot wasn’t that kind of person, and the employees weren’t either. You knew this. 

The door jingled as you opened it, and you heard footsteps behind you so you moved to the side after you had gone through, holding the door open for whoever was behind you.

“Thanks cutie!”

Red Riot was fixing his mask as he strolled past, and your head snapped up, flushing fiercely as you met his gaze. You smiled awkwardly, throwing up a feeble thumbs-up. 

Oh god, why did you do that?

Red Riot smiled back at you, giving his own exuberant thumbs-up. Well, at least he was doing it too. That made your anxiety quiet down a bit, emboldened by your favorite Pro-Hero.

You watched his broad back as he walked away, muscles flexing with each step. He really was a beautiful man, both inside and out.

----

The next time you went to Starbucks, you reached the door right as someone else did (even though you saw them walking towards the door, even though you slowed down your pace so they would reach the door first and would go inside so you wouldn’t have to do that awkward dance of who-gets-the-door and who-goes-inside-first).

But they pierced through the awkwardness, yanked the door open for you and stepped to the side and motioned for you to go in first.

It was Red Riot.

He was wearing casual clothes today, ripped jeans and a dark hoodie, but you’d recognize that spike red hair anywhere, those gleaming shark teeth too.

You nodded your thanks quickly, hurrying through the door so he wouldn’t have to stand there for long. Immediately you headed for the bathroom, not wanting to have the Pro-Hero standing in line behind you. He was intimidating, but in the nicest way possible. You were just afraid there was something about you that he would think to be weird, or odd, or out-of-place. 

Better to just avoid the situation altogether. 

When you finished your business (you were a nervous pee-er), you ordered your drink, deciding to be bold this time and try something different from your usual choice.  It was the little things, the small little bits of life that made you anxious - those were the things that you tried to overcome. I mean, life’s all about the small victories, right? And hopefully if you built up enough small victories, you could have a really big victory someday, like telling your favorite barista that you liked her hair, or picking a different seat to sit in, or trying to make a friend with another customers as you waited in line.

But for today, the small victory was stepping outside of your comfort zone just a little bit, getting something new that you weren’t used to.

You ordered, waited patiently for your drink to be made, and then turned to go settle down in your blue armchair by the window.

And Red Riot was sitting in your seat.

Fuck.

Your hands were suddenly sweaty, and you felt the familiar pang of an upset tummy. You were so tired of being nervous, of freaking out every single time there was a small change that you weren’t aware of, or if something happened that you couldn’t control.

There was an armchair opposite the one you always chose - also blue, but not as comfortable and certainly not with a good view out the window. It directly faced your usual spot, but in all your time coming here, no one had ever sat in it. A first you had just figured it was uncomfortable, but as you came here more and more, you figured that the nook was probably for couples rather than individual coffee drinkers. 

The time you visited was a bit odd, eight PM, a few hours before closing. But it was the least crowded at this time, and the sun was barely setting, and it was the perfect time for you to be unbothered and by yourself.

But there was Red Riot, invading your (unofficial) space.

But it was okay, you could just sit somewhere else.

It felt weird, sliding onto one of the chairs at a small table. You were so used to your usual, safe routine that this threw you off. You were shaking so bad that you missed your mouth on your first try of sipping at the straw. What an idiot. 

You had to try again, holding the straw this time, before you could actually taste the drink.

Selfishly, you wished Red Riot had chosen a different chair.  But he was entitled to sit anywhere he liked, and it was obvious he enjoyed this particular Starbucks. Judging by the familiarity with the employees, he was becoming a regular like yourself.  You only came once or twice a week, but he probably got his drink fix more often than you did.

Hopefully he didn’t think you were stalking him.

Oh god, what if he thought you were stalking him? How would you show that you weren’t stalking him? Come on a different day? At a different time? But you were here first, this was your routine, and that was your chair!

But man, you really didn’t want to make the Pro-Hero uncomfortable - he’d probably had a few crazy fans who had stalked him before.

Sighing, you sipped slowly at your drink, pulling out your phone to look at memes and text a few to your friends. You could still go about your routine, even if you were sitting in a different spot.

----

You ran into him at the grocery store.

It was in the produce aisle, where you were trying to decide between red apples or green, weighing the pros-and-cons of each decision in your head. You probably looked like an idiot, standing in front of the apples and doing nothing but staring at them, but you needed to ignore that right now.

“Yo, Starbucks buddy!”

The shout rang out across the produce section, and you flinched, suddenly drawn out of your apple-selection process. 

It was late, almost ten PM, who and why was shouting in the grocery store??

You weren’t one to turn and stare, but you were curious, and surely whoever shouted like that wouldn’t mind a few questioning looks thrown their way. 

And so you glanced over your shoulder, expecting to see a bunch of teenage boys greeting each other, or maybe a man saying hi to his friend.

Red Riot was excitedly waving at you.

Your brain blanked. Immediately, you turned your head, trying to see if there was someone else he was waving at. But there was no one around you - hell, there wasn’t even anyone else in the produce section except for you and the hero. 

So he had to be waving at you.

Turning your whole body this time, you gave an awkward imitation of his wave, and let out a soft, croaky “Hey…” as the big man walked closer. 

He had a big dumb smile on his big dumb face, and as he reached you, it grew even wider.

“Starbucks buddy! I didn’t mean to make you flinch, my bad. I know I can get a little loud sometimes, haha.” He stopped right in front of you, a grocery basket filled to the brim with meat and a few vegetables clutched on one of his large hands. God, he was so strong, you would be struggling to carry such a heavy basket, and here he was lugging it around like it had nothing but a loaf of bread in it. Red Riot could probably squish your skull to a pulp with just his hand, goddamn he was big.

You shrugged at his words, desperately willing your brain to work and to think of something smart and eloquent and good-to-say. “It’s uh, it’s-it’s fine. I’m just y’know, one of those nervous people, y’know?”

Wow. 

Good job brain.

But the Pro-Hero smiled gently, putting his basket down on the ground. 

“Yeah, I kinda figured.”

Wait, what?

“I’ve seen you a couple times at Starbucks, the one on Grant and 1st. You always seem… well, nervous whenever I see you. At first I just thought it was because I was there, cause y’know, people have different reactions to seeing heros out in public.” 

Your eyes were big, you felt your face erupt in an embarrassed fire, and your hands were fucking sweaty. Why couldn’t you have been born like, a blade of grass? A tree?  Some non-sentient object that didn’t have to worry about thoughts or talking or how other people perceived it?

Red Riot continued, “But I’ve seen you a couple of other times; once on the subway, a few times at that park on the north side of town, haha, you really get around, dont’cha?” 

Ah yes, now would be a good time for something to happen, like a plane to crash into the building and kill both of you instantly. Or some emergency that required his immediate attention, one that was so big and urgent that he would forget about you instantly.

His red eyes were drawn to your leg, which you were subconsciously wiggling like a toddler. His eyes softened, and his voice lowered an octave. “You always seem a bit… anxious.  And I know that feeling, believe it or not. I used to be really insecure and nervous when I was younger-“

Oh, great. Now he was just calling attention to the fact that you were acting like a fucking child, that you were a fully-grown adult that couldn’t handle being out in the world because it was too nerve-wracking. Were you really that easy to read? 

“-but I had some awesome people to help me through it. My moms were always really supportive, and they took such great care of me. It was rough for a little bit, but I learned how to be confident and how to strut my stuff and it’s helped me to help others. It’s sorta why I became a hero, actually.”

You smiled again, nodding. That made sense - each and every hero had a reason for why they wanted to help the general public, and of course Red Riot’s reason would be pure and inspiring.

“But uh, anyways! I just saw you shopping and thought I’d say hi to my Starbucks buddy. I was hoping you’d come and sit by me the other day, when I sat in the place you usually sit? But I understand that it’s sorta intimidating to approach a hero, even one in civilian clothing.”

Shoot, so he’d wanted you to sit by him that day? And here you were thinking that he had unintentionally commandeered your seat and was just trying to be left alone. God, you were so stupid. 

“Oh, I’m-I’m sorry!” You stuttered out, face hotter than the actual sun. “I didn’t realize! I figured you always have people trying to get an autograph or a picture and you probably just want privacy, and I thought that maybe you just wanted to sit there and hadn’t gotten a chance to because I always sit there, which honestly that’s such a selfish thing for me to do - I should probably try to vary the places I sit so I don’t like-“

“Ah, don’t worry about it! You’re fine, okay? Trust me.” Red Riot patted your shoulder (yup, he could definite squeeze your head like a grape), before leaning down to grab his basket off the floor.

“Oh, well uhm, t-thank you, Mr. Red Riot” You resisted the urge to bow.

“Oh!” The man exclaimed, looking slightly surprised, “Call me Kirishima, none of that “Red Riot” stuff, alright?”

Confusion overtook you. “Uh, that’s only for your friends, civilians should respect the heros and call them by their chosen names.” At least, that’s what you had always been told.

But Red Riot just grinned. “Well, what’s your name?”

With a slight shake in your voice, you told him.

“I know your name now, so I officially deem the two of us as friends!” With his free hand, he patted you on the shoulder again. You shivered, and Red Ri-Kirishima seemed to notice.

“You alright (Y/N)? Didn’t hit you too hard, did I?”

“No, no… I’m just… kinda weird about touch I guess.” That was an understatement. You were so incredibly sensitive, every light touch felt searing, hugs always were too much sensation, you shuddered even thinking about cuddling - you were just too sensitive to touch.

Red-Kirishima stepped back, holding his hand up apologetically. “Oops, my bad. I kinda noticed that about you too, I should’ve remembered.”

At your questioning glance, the man hurried to continue. “Well, y’know, I saw that couple bump into you on the subway, and you looked like you were gonna cry. And then, like, at Starbucks you make an effort to not touch the barista’s hands when they give you your change.”

Great, so that was another thing you were obvious and weird about. Just great. You felt embarrassed that Kirishima had noticed that about you so easily, but you guessed being observant was part of his job. 

“Well, I’m gonna go check out now, unless you need help with your groceries?” The man motioned to your barely-filled basket, and you shook your head.

“No, it’s-it’s okay. I can handle this, but thank you.”

Kirishima gave you a thumbs up. “Alright, sounds good. Although, are you planning on walking home?”

You shook your head yes, prepared to receive the “its not safe” talk.  You knew it wasn’t safe, but it was just a few blocks, and you had made the walk to your apartment a million times, plus, you couldn’t afford to pay for an uber or a cab.

“It’s pretty dark out there, mind if I walk you home? I’m a hero and all, I promise I’m not going to try and steal your wallet.”

And there it was.  For someone as nervous as yourself, walking alone in the dark really was no issue. Maybe it’s cause you weren’t afraid of someone trying to hurt you. You looked poor, you were ugly as fuck, and it was only a couple of blocks.

‘It’s okay Mr. R-Kirishima, I don’t mind. I’ll probably be here for a bit longer, don’t worry about me.”

He probably had other things to tend to, and even if he didn’t, you weren’t important enough to make a Pro-Hero go out of his way to walk you home. You were such an inconvenience already, it would just make you feel worse about yourself. And would you have to make small talk as the two of you walked? 

Would he try and insist upon carrying your groceries? Would he want to walk up to your apartment floor with you? Or would he say goodbye in the lobby? Once again, best to just avoid the situation altogether. 

Plus, you knew the hero was just trying to be polite. He probably didn’t actually want to walk you home.

Kirishima tried to offer again, but you turned him down, shaking your head, self-consciously drawing your shoulders up. You probably looked so stupid, like a scared little dog that had gotten yelled at. But it was a nervous reaction, and it felt better than just trying to stand there like a block.

Kirishima smiled gently, told you to have a safe night, and then left to go check out.

You turned back to the apples, trying to focus back on which color you should get, stuck between red, or green.

----

The next time you visited Starbucks, your regular spot was once again empty. It was almost a relief, seeing that you wouldn’t have to figure out if Kirishima wanted to talk today or not, if he wanted you to sit by him, or if he was just trying to make small talk back at the grocery store.

So you settled in, warm hot chocolate in hand as you looked out the window, watched cars whiz by on the street, rain puttering down softly.

And then Kirishima was bursting through the door, sending the door bell jingling in a frenzy, rain patterned heavily over his jean jacket, His eyes immediately found you, and his face lit up in a smile.

“(Y/N)!!!!”

You gave a little wave, watching as Kirishima smiled cheerily at you, before quickly ordering a drink. Immediately, the muscled redhead came to sit down in the armchair opposite you, panting a little bit.

“Wooo, I had to run here, started raining on me!”

“I can tell.” You let out a small laugh, noticing how his spiky hair was drooping from getting rained on. 

“Glad to see you got home okay the other night.” The male blurted, leaning forward so he could strip off his jacket.

You paused. “What do you mean?”

He flashed you a grin, throwing his jacket over the back of the chair. “Well, you’re here, aren’t you?”

Ah, he had a point.

His name was called, and Kirishima jumped up and went to pick up his drink before plopping back down in the armchair with a sigh.

“So, (Y/N), you ever been to the ocean before? All this water, the streets might be an ocean by the time we leave.”

Kirishima proceeded to launch into a story about the time he went to the ocean with his buddy Bakugou, how they had swam with turtles and even got to see a whale.

You were glad he was doing all the talking, letting you sit back and listen while you sipped at your hot cocoa. There was no pressure for you to talk, no pressure for you to try and fumble for the right words. And it was nice, seeing the big hero be so excited and animated, gesturing with his hands and almost spilling his drink all over himself.

As you listened to him talk, you settled back further into the armchair contentedly. He was a nice person to be around, you could see yourself being friends with him, if he didn’t mind.

——

And friends you did become.

It wasn’t long before the two of you exchanged numbers - Kirishima had wanted to send you a picture of a dog he had seen the other day while he was out patrolling.

The two of you texted memes to each other, cute pictures of animals, and even though your anxiety was loud and demanding and convinced you that you were bothering the man, Kirishima always assured you that was never the case.

He always seemed to be able to tell when you were feeling anxious, when nervousness settled deep in your bones and refused to leave. You slowly began to notice that with Kirishima, your anxiety was quieter. It was easy to let the exuberant man to take the lead, for him to make decisions, whether to walk up and ask to pet the cute dog or not. It was freeing in a way, letting your new friend take your anxiety and make it be quiet. 

After all, no one gave you a second glance, now that you were trailing behind Pro-Hero Red Riot. 

Kirishima was such a character, goofy, cheerful, and always sporting a sunny disposition. His casual fashion consisted of the most god-awful color combinations and mixed patterns. It wasn’t uncommon for the man to bounce towards you in greeting, wearing neon green crocs, dark blue overalls that were plaid, and a head-ache inducing black-and-white psychedelic shirt. Somehow he made it all work, and didn’t look odd or out of place.

You admired him, truly. You wished you could have his confidence, his attitude and bouncy personality. If you had confidence like that, you could probably do anything. As it stood right now, you could barely approach someone on the street and ask to pet their dog.

It had been so embarrassing, walking with Kirishima down the street and listening to him talk between gulps of a bright pink slushy. You spotted a woman walking a dog on the other side of the street, a big dog, fluffy and sweet-looking and happily walking along it’s owner, stopping to sniff at each plant that grew in the cracks of the sidewalk.

“Cute, I wish I could pet that dog.” You interrupted Kiri’s story, gazing wistfully at the dog. 

Kirishima paused, swiveling his head to see what dog you were talking about. Once he did, his eyes lit up, and he grabbed your hand. “Lets go pet it then!” But when he tried to pull you forward, you balked, pulling your wrist backward. 

“I-I can’t, it’s….. I don’t know, It’s fine, I’ll stay here.”

Kirishima raised an eyebrow, studying you as he took another slow sip of his slushy. You had your own slushy, a significantly smaller size than the beefy Pro-Hero’s own giant cup.  

“(Y/N), it’s okay - I’ll do all the talking, ‘kay?”

He could tell that the thought of talking to the owner, asking to pet their dog, was making you nervous. What if they said no? What if they thought you were being rude? Would the dog not like you? Would the owner think you looked funny? What if they were hurrying somewhere?

But if Kirishima did all the talking….. maybe you could manage trailing behind him, only emerging from his shadow if the owner said yes to petting their dog. 

You gave the big man a weak smile, nodding gingerly before getting yanked forward, Kirishima already speed-walking towards the lady.

He asked, the lady said yes - you got to pet the absolute cutest dog ever. It was heaven. 

You were grateful for Kirishima - shyly told him as much. If you were by yourself, you would have noticed the cute dog, but done nothing about it, just wished you had the courage to approach and ask if you could pet it.

But with Kiri? He made anything possible.

----

You were worried you were annoying him.

There was no evidence, but still, wouldn’t it be annoying to have an anxious little shadow?  One that shook and stuttered and could barely go to the grocery store without freaking out and having a panic attack? Your fears and feelings weren’t entirely unfounded, I mean,  there were millions upon millions of possible outcomes of any one action. Unfortunately, your brain liked to focus only on the negative options.

But Kirishima never got tired, never got frustrated with you. He didn’t mind ordering for the both of you when you got snacks at a fast-food place during long afternoons. He didn’t mind taking up extra space with his personality, being loud and brash and drawing attention to himself when you felt like everyone was watching you, waiting for you to make a stupid mistake. 

Kiri seemed to like walking you home, helped you check your windows and in the closet and under the bed (not for people, but what if there was some eldritch monster that lurked just out of sight?). He never made fun of you for your feelings or fears, just gently listened and then tried to help you deal with them.

He even got you to be somewhat comfortable with making silly little mistakes in public. One time the man tripped on thin air, spilling warm coffee all over you and himself. Immediately he burst out laughing at his own clumsiness, apologizing between giggles as he heaved himself off the floor and went to go grab napkins.

If you had spilled a drink on him and yourself, you would’ve been asking Siri where the nearest cliff was. But you realized, the same way that you weren’t worried, and how it wasn’t that big of a problem that your shirt was now soaked with sweet coffee and sticking to your skin, Kirishima probably wouldn’t care if you spilled anything on him.

After all, it was an honest mistake.

The big man was helping you to learn how to be more comfortable in the world. But still, the creeping suspicion that he was just being kind to you out of sheer politeness was forefront in your mind. 

So you came up with a question, practiced asking it in the mirror, took several days to build up your confidence to ask Kirishima.

“Do you actually want to be friends with me?”

And sure, that might be a forward question. But you valued honesty, had told him so a few times when he asked you to rate his outfit on a scale from 1-10 (usually it was a solid 10 - his personality making the outfit shine) you tried not to lie to others, and expected the same courtesy from them.

The two of you were in the park, resting on one of the benches after walking around and looking at the different plants (one of your favorite activities, no matter how lame). And now was as good a time as ever, so you popped the question, barely stuttering once.

Kirishima was silent for a bit, and you were almost afraid of looking up at him. The truth would come out now - how he just saw a pathetic little civilian and felt so much pity for them that he decided to be their friend. You were just a burden to him, how could you ever be anything else?

When you dared to look up at the big redhead, the intensity in his gaze had you leaning towards the side nervously, away from the strength of all his attention focused on you.

“(Y/N)…. becoming friends with you was - it’s been the best decision I’ve ever made in my life.” His voice held such sincerity, his face open and honest. You recoiled from the statement, uncomfortable with the compliment. That had to be a lie, he was just saying that to make you feel better. You were so pathetic and weak that other people had to pretend that you were better than you actually were to avoid hurting your feelings. You wished you never existed. Why did you even ask him that question in the first place? There was no way that someone as nice as Kirishima would actually tell you how worthless and pitiful you were.

Large hands grabbed your own, and you jumped. Kirishima’s hands were warm, scarred and calloused, yet soft in their grip as they gently squeezed your own hands. You tried not to flinch at the contact. 

“I know that you don’t believe me, but you should. You know-“ One of his hands went to run through his hair, tousling through it’s straight, un-gelled style, before returning to your hand. “-I was pretty lonely before I met you. Like, I had my squad - Bakugou and Mina and Denki and Sero…. But it just….. There was something missing.”

Kirishima leaned close to you, your sides pressing together, his red eyes trying to catch your own. You were too shy, had to look off to the side.

“There was someone missing. And when I saw you, it felt…. Everything just clicked. I was missing you.”

You could feel his breath fanning against the side of your flaming hot face. It was uncomfortable. He was lying, he had to be. He was just trying to help you be confident in yourself, so he wouldn’t have to baby you and hold your hand and help you do simple things like ordering food or going for walks and not worrying about what people thought of you.

He was just being nice.

For some reason, you felt your throat clog up, felt the spicy sting of tears building up. Why did you feel like crying? You weren’t exactly in tune with any of your other emotions, only paid attention if it was anxiety or fear.  

A thumb rubbed over your knuckles soothingly (it burned), and the next thing you knew you were being enveloped in a bear hug, Kirishima’s arms crushing you into his chest, his pecs pressing against your face. 

Goddamn, he was built as fuck.

You tried to keep still, not squirm away from his touch like a child. You were an adult, you could handle a little bit of discomfort over being touched.

Kiri sighed. “I like being around you (Y/N). You don’t judge me for my mistakes, you accept them - you accept me. You uh, you make me happy dude, like, really happy.”

You chuckled a little bit at the redheads use of the word “dude”. Only a meathead could turn a sappy moment on it’s head by using the word “dude”. Still, you liked the way Kirishima talked, from the excited chatter when he was talking about something he liked, to the slow, comforting honey when he was being sincere and intimate, like now.

At the same time, your heart felt tight, waiting for the inevitable but that was sure to come. For the redhead to explain that he enjoyed your company but he was just being polite to a nervous civilian who couldn’t fend for themselves. You fun to hang out with but it was only because you made him look better, cooler and manlier because he was nice to someone as pathetic as you.

The but never came. You waited and waited, but Kirishima just kept the slow rhythm of his thumb rubbing over your knuckles, kept your face pressed into his chest and an arm wrapped around your body. You didn’t know what to do. 

Should you pull back? Your throat felt tight again. Kirishima was lying to you, he had to be. There wasn’t any way that someone would actually enjoy you as a person.

You pulled back from the warmth of his body, pulled your hand away from his. “I don’t….. I want honesty Kirishima. Please? Lies hurt more than the truth, please. I’m not a good person, I’m pathetic and nervous and shy, and I’m too loud sometimes, and my body looks weird, and I’m ugly and disgusting, and-“

“(Y/N), stop.” His voice thundered, cutting you off. Immediately, you fell silent, chest tightening, gaze falling to your lap. He was right. He didn’t need to hear all your insecurities, they were already clear to see. You were such a drag on his life, he probably hated having to deal with you, having to see you.

“Kiri, I’m not uhm-“ Your voice was wavering. “-I’m not feeling so great, I think I’m gonna head home.”

As you stood, so did the redhead. “Please don’t feel obligated to walk me home, I know it’s way out of your way.” He probably hated every second of it, probably insisted just to be polite. Even now, Kirishima was beginning to protest, grabbing at your hand. You pulled back, eyes fixed on the ground.

“Kiri, please.” You whispered, tears threatening to fall. You hated yourself. You hated yourself so much, your chest hurt, your ears felt full, everything felt too heavy and bad - there weren’t even any words to explain it. You just wanted to go home and cry, sob into a pillow.

Kirishima stayed put, probably watching you walk away from the park. God, you hoped he wasn’t, you walked so weirdly. Why couldn’t you just disappear?

——

You tried your best to disappear. 

You did the bare minimum, turning in assignments an hour before they were due, half-assing them. You hardly ventured out of your room, only to grab water or to use the bathroom.

Neighbors kept knocking on your door, probably the couple in the apartment opposite you, asking for a cup of sugar so they could make cookies, or wanting to tell you that your mail downstairs was getting full. But being the person you were, you were far too nervous to go answer the door. You were probably annoying people. It would just be better for the world if you weren’t in it, wouldn’t it?

Kirishima kept trying to text you, call you (Even though he knew you couldn’t pick up - calls terrified you), trying to coax you to go on a walk with him, to come get coffee or a slushie with him when he finished working. You brushed him off with lame excuses, telling him you were sick, backtracking when he said he was coming over with soup and movies. You didn’t feel well enough for company. 

Still, the man kept texting you several times a day, then only a few times, and now it was down to just once a day. In one corner of your mind, it hurt. The rest of your mind knew that it was for the best, knew that his life was going to be better because you weren’t going to be there bothering him. 

His texts consisted of simple messages now, ones you felt bad not responding to, but if you did respond, you hated yourself for the rest of the day. You sucked.

“(Y/N), look at this dog!” *IMAGE ATTACHED*

Cute.

“Yo, you wanna come get something to drink at our place? They have a deal on coffee today!”

Sorry Kiri, I’m not feeling too good today. You should go get a drink though, have fun!

“I saw some people rollerskating in the park, we should try that!”

Yeah.

“Would you wanna go for a walk sometime?”

I don’t think so, I’m pretty busy right now. You should go and get sunshine though, you deserve it!

“We need to go to our Starbucks soon, I need COFFEE haha”

(:

“Gonna ever come see where I work? I can show you my office, it’s super cool!”

“(Y/N), you doing okay?”

“I miss you.”

----

You woke up to the sound of your neighbors (or maybe the complex manager?) knocking on your door.  Anxiety filled you, palms immediately becoming clammy, so you fumbled around your bed, searching for your earbuds. Maybe if you could listen to music, you could calm down? Sometimes that worked, sometimes not. It really depended on how worked up you were.

Luckily you found them, quickly stuffing them in your ears as you queued music up on your phone. The knocking faded out as music filled your ears, but your anxiety still persisted. You curled up onto your side, hugging a pillow to your chest, almost on the verge of tears from nothing more than a few knocks at your door. You were such a burden to society.

It took a minute, but your heart stopped racing, palms stopped sweating, and you fell back asleep. You were so tired of being awake.

----

You awoke a second time to hands carding gently through your hair. It felt weird for a brief second, but you just ignored the feeling - until you remembered that you lived alone, and the front door was supposed to be locked. 

Squeaking in panic, you shot up, eyes wide, scrambling back into the corner of your bed, clutching the blanket to your chest. 

Kirishima blinked at you, hand still hovering over where your he’d had previously been. He was sitting on the edge of your bed, shoes off, bare feet on the floor.

Your eyes were still wide with fear, chest heaving with panic, but you managed to rip out your earbuds. “Kirishima? How-how did you get in?!? What are you….” You trailed off, tugging your blanket closer around your body as you realized that you were in your pajamas. They weren’t provocative, nor exposed any skin, but they drowned your form, were probably stained and most likely dirty, and you definitely looked awful. But back to the issue at hand, how did Kiri get in your apartment?

The man in question gave a dorky little wave, lips quirking up ever so slightly. 

“(Y/N), hey! I haven’t seen you in so long!” He paused for a second, and when he spoke again, his voice was softer, more serious. “I missed you… I was kinda worried.”

“But how are you- I mean…. inside?” You stuttered, completely flustered.

“Oh, I talked to the complex manager, said I was a family member who was really worried about you. Showed him how you haven’t been answering my texts…. I was really worried (Y/N). You were giving such weird replies to my texts, and then you stopped answering completely, and no one answered the door whenever I knocked.”

Wait, that was him knocking? All those times?

You were going to jump out the window. 

“Kiri… I didn’t mean to worry you, I just… You shouldn’t be worried about me.”

“Why not? I care about you, I… I wanted to see you.”

It was time to be honest, say the things that were painful to say. The truths that hurt your heart, but needed to be said. Otherwise, Kirishima just wouldn’t get it.

“Kiri, I’m not-I’m not worth your worry. I don’t deserve it. I’m a nervous, depressed wreck, who can’t even open a door or answer the phone. You’re-you’re being nice to me cause you’re a good person. I don’t think I should be… well, like, around you. I just-I bring you down, and you have to do stuff for me and reassure me and I’m such a burden. Please just, I don’t know, please just don’t give me any more attention. I’m so stupid and gross and you should be friends with someone who isn’t….. isn’t like me.”

You finished your rant, almost breathless, choked up, feeling ready to cry.

Silence reigned between the two of you, everything quiet except for the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic clicking of your fan.

It was uncomfortable. But you’d said your piece. It’d be weird if you said anything else, right? Should you say something else? Was he going to hate you for wasting his time? Holy crap, Kirishima is gonna hate you for wasting his time, for not telling him that at the beginning, when he first got to know you.

“(Y/N)-“ The sound of Kirishima’s soft, low voice made your head snap up, up to his face. He was looking at you, red eyes dark and large and filled with… pity? Sadness? “-I don’t even know how to tell you how wrong you are about that.”

The blanket shrouding your body was quickly pulled away, Kirishima discarding it to the side so he could shuffle closer to you, wrap you in one of his signature death-grip hugs. You were quickly pulled into his arms, the large man hunched over you as he squeezed you tight. It didn’t feel good. You wished he would remember that you didn’t like to be touched.

“I was pretty sure of my feelings before… well, before you asked if I wanted to be friends with you. And truthfully, I wasn’t exactly honest with you.” Your heart gave the tiniest squeeze. You knew he had been lying to you, but yeah, it did kinda hurt to hear him admit it. 

“I kinda wanna be more than friends with you, actually.”

His hold on your body loosened, pulling back so he could look at your face. Your ugly, about-to-cry, gross face. You tried to turn away, pull out of his grip and find your blanket and crawl underneath it and stay there until you died. There was no way he was coming onto you - you weren’t good enough for him. He was Kirishima, Red Riot, pro hero, sunshine of the world, manliest and strongest guy out there.

And you were just….

You.

Kirishima didn’t let you move away. He grabbed your arms, pulled you up a bit so you were at his level. “I’m serious about this. I know you don’t believe me, all that anxiety and nervousness trying to lie to you, but….” A quick glance at his face showed the redhead to be blushing. “I’ve wanted to be more than friends from the moment I first saw you.”

Exasperated, almost angry at this point (he was lying), you scoffed, wiggling in his grip to signal that you wanted to let go. 

“Kiri, I held a door open for you, it was nothing special. I’m ugly and lame and I panic over the slightest things, stop lying to me and saying that I’m someone worth your time.” Surprised, Kirishima loosened his grasp on your arms, and you moved away from him to sit on the edge of the bed. “I could never be worth your time.”

Was silence becoming a trend between the two of you? Apparently, because Kirishima didn’t say anything, just crawled over and sat down next to you. The big man was hardly ever silent, always talking about this, that, or the other. You were just a pro at messing things up, weren’t you?

A moment longer of sitting awkwardly in silence. You couldn’t take it anymore, you wanted to be able to cry about your shameful existence in peace, without having to entertain Kiri’s pity and lies.

“Can you….. Can you-you go…. Please?” You whispered, hugging your arms around your body. Oh yeah, you had forgotten you were in your gross, oversized pajamas. Just another thing for you to feel bad about.

Kirishima didn’t move.

Afraid he hadn’t heard you, you turned bright red, what an idiot - you can’t even speak loud enough to be heard. You stuttered as you started to repeat your request, but Kirishima cut you off.

“Why can’t you see?” He turned to you. “You’re the most lovely thing, I want to be around you all the time. Why can’t you see that you’re the most wonderful person in the world?”

Horrified, you reeled back. He was just pushing more lies. You felt so uncomfortable, you hated this, you wanted him to stop. “That’s-that’s just some fantasy Kiri…. I’m awful. Please, just go-“

“No.”

No? His voice sounded different, harsh and filled with authority. You looked at your feet, settled against the bare floor. You just wanted to sleep, and sleep, and never have to wake up. Why did being a human have to be so hard? 

Might as well let the big redhead say his piece, make you feel worse about yourself. Then you could shove him out the door and spend the next week sobbing yourself sick.You felt bad, you couldn’t even explain your own emotions, put a name to this feeling that was painful and clawed at your chest like it was trying to rip you apart.

“You aren’t understanding me (Y/N). That’s no fantasy of mine - that’s reality.” A large hand grabbed your chin softly, turning your face towards Kiri’s. “Whenever I come up with a fantasy that involves you, I end up fucking my fist ’til I go raw.” 

The admission made you stutter, and you hadn’t thought it was possible for you to blush harder, but here you were - twelve shades redder than the reddest tomato. 

Kiri didn’t give you a chance to breathe. “I missed you so much, you don’t even realize. I could compliment you until I go blue in the face, but you’re so shy and nervous and adorable, you’d never, ever believe me.”

Well, that much was true. At least he knew you well.

“So instead, I’m just gonna show you how much you mean to me.”

Soft lips met your own, a hand fisting into your hair and twisting your head back to make kissing you easier for Kiri. You couldn’t even think, barely had presence of mind to push at the solid man, hitting his chest. You felt ugly, and gross, and stupid and weak, was this some sort of prank? This had to be some sort of prank. There’s no way Kirishima could actually be attracted to you.

Your mind was drawn to the present when a sharp blossom of pain emanated from your lip. Kiri pulled back, a single drop of blood running down his chin as he stared at you, your foreheads almost touching.

“Don’t get in your head, I want you here. Don’t think, just feel.” 

You wanted to say something, to open your mouth and ask him again to leave. He shouldn’t be kissing you, he should be kissing someone prettier, stronger, someone who had their life together. 

You wanted to protest, but you were being pushed onto your back on the bed, Kiri’s large, calloused hands grabbing at your limbs and bodily moving you however he saw fit despite your squirming.

“Kir-stop-stop touching! Don’t, please, I’m-I’m so gross-“

His lips were on yours again, swallowing your cries as he moved the two of you around on the small bed until you were splayed out underneath him. He was moving so quickly, with such confidence and self-assuredness that you couldn’t keep up. His hands were starting to squeeze at your waist, his thighs bracketing your own as the big man got comfortable over you, leaning down to avoid breaking the deep, passionate kiss.

Your lungs were burning.

You had to pull your face to the side, pushing at Kiri’s shoulders as you did so, making panicked noises as you tried (and failed) to take in air through your nose. How the hell was Kiri holding his breath this long? 

The man finally got the hint, letting you pull away from him, gasping for air. You felt dizzy, his hands were still squeezing and stroking over your waist, it was too much. As you tried to get your breathing under control, you glanced up at your friend, red-faced, on the verge of tears. Why was he doing this? You were so gross, ugly, nothing when compared to how fit and muscular and handsome Kirishima was.

HIs eyes were dark, chin smeared red from the blood earlier - you bet your chin looked the same. His chest rose and fell rapidly, seemingly also out of breath, but the moment your eyes met his, the man was descending again, this time to press hot kisses all over your face, on your jaw, behind your ears.

“Don’t, oh, please don’t. Kiri-why are you-? Stop-“ You gasped, the sensations of his lips trailing across your skin too much for you to handle. A kiss to the column of your throat had you jolting, trying to sit up, not knowing what you were doing but trying to get away. It was too much.

“Lay back.” Kiri’s deep voice rumbled. “Let me make you feel good. You’ll forget about the anxiety, okay? Just focus on me.”

You didn’t want to focus on him. But at the same time, the situation was so overwhelming, you didn’t know what to do except let him push you back down with a hand on your chest. 

Before you could process what happened, your clothes were off, his clothes gone as well. You wanted to shriek; cry and cover yourself and tell Kirishima to leave, but everything was happening too fast, and your body couldn’t keep up. 

You felt floaty, buzzy, like you were in a weird dream, ears stopped up full of cotton. 

Wet fingers prodded at your entrance. Oh, were they Kiri’s? When had they gotten wet? The fingers retracted, and you watched Kirishima gather the saliva in his mouth before spitting onto his hand. 

Ah.

The fingers were back, one pushing into you, the pressure too deep, too tight, too harsh. You knew in the back of your mind that you probably looked so stupid, gasping and shivering and shaking, but you couldn’t control it.

One finger turned into two, then three, then four, and then they were gone, something much bigger trying to split you open.

You felt sick.

You couldn’t move.

Kirishima was kissing your face again, his touch burning, making your skin feel tingly and painful and rough everywhere he touched. It hurt. He was saying something, but your ears were buzzing, everything felt fuzzy and weird, and you didn’t know where to look, what to do, except lie there and let the man continue.

He was soft, gentle. But no amount of easy touches or reassuring words were getting through to you, just the overwhelming sensation of being too full, nausea thick in your stomach, throat closing up. The room tasted like blood.

The pressure wasn’t going away, just building and building and building as Kirishima thrust into you, until eventually a twinge of pleasure slipped into your system alongside the discomfort of being filled. 

It felt weird… nice? You couldn’t tell anymore.

There was only sweat, slick, slapping noises, rough hands running over your skin, words being said. You couldn’t grasp anything. 

You felt full, empty, all at the same time. 

The pleasure built, higher and higher and higher until it burst into little sharp fragments that ran through your veins, zinging into your wrists, sparking through your tummy.

And then there was warmth inside you, and the part of you still lucid recognized that Kirishima had just cum inside your body.

You couldn’t get enough air into your lungs.

----

Kirishima was laying beside you, making shushing sounds, stroking your hair, pulling the blanket up around the two of you.  The pressure between your legs was gone, as was the stinging pleasure that had spilled all over your body. You couldn’t feel, everything was still too much, too loud and bright and rough and warm.

Kirishima was still stroking your hair as you finally calmed down, hyperventilating coming to a stop, shaking still there, but not as violent as it had been. 

“-so strong, and your laugh always makes me happy. I love you, and I know you love me back. It’s gonna take some time for us to work past all this nervous stuff, but I’m not give up. I’ll always be here for you, you know that?”

He was rambling, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your neck, along your collarbone - innocent, reassuring. You closed your eyes. 

“You need someone to be there for you, I know. You get so anxious, and you bottle up your feelings, and I know you get so scared of saying or doing the wrong thing and you just freeze or panic.” He continued. “You won’t ever have to worry about that with me. We worked around it today, yeah? You just relax, and let me lead. I’m never gonna steer you wrong (Y/N).”

You felt cold.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

In the Middle

One of your boyfriends tries to rile up the other.

You get caught in the middle in more ways than one.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None really

AO3: Here |  Want to support me? I have a Kofi

There were pros and cons to having two boyfriends.

You fought a never ending battle pulling hair from the shower drain. You had double the texts to reply to; double the calls to return. No matter how comfortable you were when you fell asleep, you always woke up with a crick in your neck and someone’s elbow in your face.

Hizashi craved attention more than oxygen and sulked if he felt even slightly neglected. He spent just as much time chasing kisses as he did styling his hair. He sang in the shower, the bathtub, the rain and was only too eager to drag one or both of you in for a duet. You learned the hard way not to stand next to him in front of the bathroom mirror, for he would bump his hips against yours until you sang along to the radio with him and you’d ended up with eyeliner halfway across your face more than once.

He would spend the day pouting if no one gave him a good morning kiss and drew smiley faces in ketchup if left to plate up at dinner. He was a handful and a terrible influence; the polar opposite of your other boyfriend in every possible way.

Shouta was neither loud nor demanding. He could go days without talking, much less singing, and was happiest dozing off on the couch with his head in someone’s lap. His affections were subtle and easy to miss, while the emotions behind them were anything but. He met you halfway when you reached out to touch him and smiled in his sleep if you kissed him on the forehead. He would complain if you wriggled into his arms while he was working, but rearrange his position to accommodate you nonetheless.

Hizashi needed attention, while Shouta rarely sought it and nine times out of ten you and Hizashi were the ones who did all of the seducing.

Today was no exception to that particular rule.

Summer had hit Musutafu seemingly overnight. It was too hot to sleep or even snuggle on the couch. All you seemed to do lately was curl up on the floor in front of the electric fan in as many clothes as you could bear, while Hizashi stood on the balcony in a tank and shorts, stretching like a cat and mopping the sweat from his brow. It was too hot for leather and too humid for hairspray- sacrifices he had had to make, but was far from happy about.

Shouta remained relatively unchanged. He still went out at night to patrol the streets and continued to plan classes on his laptop on the couch, changing into thinner clothes, but remaining otherwise unaffected.

He was on his laptop, in fact, on this day in particular, drafting out a plan for 1-A’s future training exercises. In the meantime, Hizashi had opened up the box of popsicles you’d been keeping in the freezer and the pair of you took turns in front of the electric fan.

It was only a matter of time before the quiet, heat and lack of attention got to Hizashi and he had rested his head on your lap, golden hair splayed across your thighs. At first it was enough to snake one of his hands under your shirt and cup your breast, but before long that too lost its appeal. He shot side glances at Shouta every so often, sighing and running his tongue over the popsicle.

And so it was you found yourself caught in a battle of wills.

Hizashi waited for Shouta to look over before touching his tongue to the ice. If his gaze lasted longer than a couple of seconds, Hizashi would curl his tongue. Shouta made a point to catch his eye and not react.

Both sides were too stubborn to cave and, as usual, it fell to you to break the tension.

You took the popsicle from Hizashi and leaned back, running your own tongue over the ice. It was on the verge of melting and syrup dripped onto your shirt, causing you to gasp most theatrically and pull the shirt away from your body as if it wasn’t in the least bit planned. At first Hizashi had pouted when you stole his popsicle, but now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“It’s rude to take things without asking, (Name),” he said, sitting up. “The least you can do is share.”

You held out the popsicle and he sucked at the end, leaning back to allow you to do the same. You made sure to moan far louder than was necessary, as if it was something far less innocent than a popsicle.

“Ahhh, it’s getting all over my mouth,” you said, wiping the syrup from your lips and chin. “What am I going to do?”

“I can help with that,” said Hizashi, seconds before grazing his lips over yours, checking to see if Shouta was watching before deepening the kiss.

His lips were cold and he tasted of mangoes, the same flavour as the popsicle you’d been sharing. It was sweet, but the realisation that Shouta had stopped typing was far sweeter.

Shouta didn’t seek attention out, that much was true, but he sure as shit hated being left out of the action.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before you ended up on your hands and knees in the bedroom. You dug your nails into the bedcovers as Hizashi gripped your hips and took you from behind, all while Shouta bunched your hair in his hands, kneeling in front of you and thrusting into your mouth.

You barreled forward every time Hizashi slammed his hips into yours, moaning from the sensation of his dick hitting the one spot that made your toes curl.

The sounds Shouta was making were obscene. The vibrations of your moans against his dick combined with the way each thrust sent it deeper down your throat left him trembling. He could do little more than hold onto your hair and even then his hands were shaking.

Hizashi was absurdly quiet, all things considered, though you couldn’t turn your head to see why. You got your answer when he made a wet sound behind you and let out a moan, something icy landing on the small of your back.

“Hizashi...are you...are you still eating the popsicle?”

“No.”

More syrup landed on your back.

“Maybe.”

You heard the smack of his lips as he put it back in his mouth only moments before he took up such an ungodly pace that you took Shouta’s cock into your hand and jerked him off, grabbing onto the bed covers so tightly that your knuckles went white. The tension inside of you was too much to bear. You felt like you were going to explode.

You squeezed your eyes shut and squealed as you came undone, mind falling blank and legs shaking. It was like an electric shock burning through your core, leaving you unable to do anything but absorb each pulse.

Hizashi slowed down to enjoy the feel of you cumming on his dick, but the reprieve lasted only a few short moments. He guided you down onto the bed and over onto your back, shifting positions with Shouta, who lifted your knees over his shoulders.

He didn't have remotely the same stamina as Hizashi. You doubted any human did. He was, however, girthier and only too happy to torment you with it. He took you slow and deep, dragging sighs from your lips at the overstimulation. You were still having aftershocks from cumming the first time and saw stars each time his hips hit yours.

You turned your head to lick the tip of Hizashi’s dick, matching the pressure and speed of Shouta’s thrusts. Hizashi sucked in a deep breath, leaning over to grab Shouta by the hair and moan into his mouth.

The first time you had ever had sex with Hizashi, he shattered every window in your apartment building. You had laughed it off as an earthquake, though got the feeling no one believed you.

You had learned the hard way that he was loud when he came and the easiest way to prevent it was to stifle the sound before it could leave his lips, be it with a gag, by sitting on his face, preoccupying him with a blowjob or, as was the case now, with kissing.

You lay on your back and watched them nip at each other’s lips, waves of pleasure rushing through you. You were glad Shouta was holding onto your legs, for it felt as if the bones had left your body.

Hizashi was the next to come, whimpering into Shouta’s kisses as his dick twitched. He sat up and gave himself a final couple of tugs before spilling over your chest. Shouta followed suit, sitting up onto his knees and coming across your stomach.

Double the boyfriends, you considered fleetingly, double the mess.

~~~~

You stayed in bed for at least an hour after that, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. It was still unbearably hot and no one was particularly enthusiastic about putting on clothes, even though the heat from one other’s bodies swiftly overpowered any relief from the electric fan.

“Why is it that whenever you two have shenanigans I end up in the middle?”

You could hear the fatigue in your own voice; the perfect compliment to how heavy your eyelids felt.

“I thought you liked being in the middle,” said Hizashi, only to squeak as you poked him in the ribs.

“I suppose I should take a bath,” you groaned, peeling Shouta’s arms from your waist and untangling your legs from Hizashi’s.

Your legs were more than a little floppy, but you disguised it by dropping to your knees to pick up your discarded clothes.

“(Name),” said Shouta, “wait.”

You turned to him, heart fluttering. Ordinarily he tolerated hugs at best, but on the rare occasions you managed to keep him awake after sex he was the biggest cuddler you’d ever met.

Maybe he wanted you to go back to bed.

Maybe he wanted to join you in the bath.

“Yes?”

“You’re blocking the fan.”

You turned to the fan behind you, heart sinking.

“And they say romance is dead,” you muttered, stepping out of the room.

Hizashi and Shouta closed their eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool air against their exposed skin. The peaceful moment was soon over, though, for seconds later you slipped your arm back through the doorway and flicked the off switch.

“Hey!!”

“(Name)!”

“Switch it back on, switch it back on!”

“Make me,” you said, sticking out your tongue and closing the door behind you.

“Oooooh,” Hizashi huffed, climbing out of bed. “When I catch you…”

He ran out of the bedroom and chased you through the apartment, paying little heed to the fact that you were both as naked as the day you were born.

Shouta turned over onto his side and fluffed his pillow.

He could sleep through just about anything; a fire alarm...hot weather...

...and, apparently, the sound of his two idiot lovers spraying one another with water.

[backtothestart02]

A Weekend of Firsts - 1/? | grandice fanfiction

A/N: Part 1 of my On Set Attraction series (for now). This one will be 2-3 chaps. Not sure yet. For the anon that requested an sdcc hook-up. I hope you enjoy this first part.

...

Synopsis: Grant and Candice get together.

...

Chapter 1 -

SDCC 2014.

The first real large-scale event that The Flash cast attended in preparation for the upcoming season one of their show.

San Diego Comic Con.

Candice was starry-eyed. It had been her first time attending SDCC as someone featured and not just an audience member. She’d secretly attended just for enjoyment’s sake once years earlier, but she wasn’t about to spill that. She was a little embarrassed about how nerdy she’d been, dressing up in cosplay and everything. She was putting that behind her. Now she was a real celebrity – or she was about to be.

Glancing back at Grant on the bus, she felt her cheeks grow hot and quickly turned around. She’d thought to look over to him because he, too, had never attended SDCC as part of a featured cast, but his eyes and his smile had gotten the best of her, and she hadn’t been able to maintain eye contact.

What was the matter with her? She wondered, but it was no secret to herself why her heart started racing and heat filled her cheeks whenever she caught that sexy grin of his.

She had a crush. A big one.

He was single, so it’s not like if she acted on it there would be bad fallout. But it might affect their chemistry onset, which to hear it, was some of the best the casting director had ever seen.

Electric. Show-stopping. Edge-of-your seat. Magical.

She couldn’t risk losing that by confessing her feelings. And besides, she didn’t even know if he felt the same way. His rejection of her alone might affect their chemistry if they couldn’t get past that awkward moment.

No, she was better off keeping this little crush to herself and hopefully getting over it, sooner rather than later hopefully.

She tried to find reasons not to fantasize about what the two of them together romantically might look like. She honestly did. She tried to find flaws in him. Real, honest-to-God flaws that could make her see him more as a friend than a crush.

But it was just so God damn hard.

He was such a flirt, and he focused most of his efforts of her. He’d deliberately run into things to gauge her reaction, and he’d tease her relentlessly. He was funny too, so funny that she found herself laughing long after everyone else had stopped. She’d thought he would think oddly of her for that, but when their eyes met after she’d stopped, he was only ever smiling at her, as if nothing existed for him outside of her.

They shared similar interests too – well, except for the ongoing Superman vs. Batman debate. That would probably never end. But they both loved dogs and video games. She had a few potted plants in her trailer that sometimes she’d come back to see him watering. And his two dogs, Jett and Nora, took to her right away.

They gravitated to each other easily when alone, and his first instinct was to slow dance with her in between takes. She never led him on or tried to get his attention one way or the other. He always came looking for it.

And sometimes, occasionally, she’d catch him checking out her cleavage or her ass when she knew he thought she was unaware. It made her wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had a thing for her too?

But she never brought it up and neither did he. The cast couldn’t be completely oblivious to their connection though. She hoped they never brought it up to anybody. The last thing she needed was for people to think she was getting attention simply because the leading man was giving it to her.

She was the leading lady though, so was it that hard to believe?

She kept herself in check as best as she could, however. And when the bus finally arrived and they filed out, she made herself focus on what the itinerary of the day was. Well, for the first day it was pretty low key. They just needed to check into the hotel and attend a couple low key events. The real slew of interviews and panels and photoshoots, autographs and more would take place over the next couple days.

Paparazzi lined the walkway, as did some fans who had heard about the show. If they got renewed for another season, she imagined the fans would multiply at events like this. Not that she was hoping for that or even needed it. She was just amazed – still – that she had gotten the part. Her talent and her chemistry with Grant had sealed the deal. She couldn’t be happier.

Once inside the hotel, they got their keys and made their way to their floor. Candice stopped at her door and was about to slide her key in when she heard Grant call out to her.

“Hey, we’re neighbors?”

She smiled tremulously and called back, “Yeah, cool!”

Cool?

She rolled her eyes at herself and got into her suite. She lay on the bed for a while, then peeked outside at the view she had. A busy street. Not the best, but they were in busy San Diego. What did she expect?

She stepped into her bathroom and turned on the shower. Setting out her clothes for the first event, she stripped down, went under the glorious hot water and soaked herself. After she was thoroughly wrinkled, she washed up, then shut off the water, dried herself off, and proceeded to get ready for their night of events.

Alcohol.

She hadn’t thought twice when champagne was offered to her at the first event or the second. She didn’t think she was anywhere near tipsy by the time the after party came around, but she did notice one thing.

Grant was flirting more than usual, and she was flirting back.

Her heated cheeks a faint memory, and her heart racing nothing to the sound of glasses clinking and toasts being made at their first day of SDCC being completed successfully.

Candice couldn’t stop smiling.

She didn’t know where the rest of the cast had gone. They’d all arrived together at the party. But now it was just her and Grant and other people they didn’t know who probably didn’t really know them, what with their show not having aired yet. It was nice to be somewhat anonymous and just having fun without a care.

Minutes ticked away into hours though, and when she looked around she noticed that the place was starting to empty.

She tugged on Grant’s arm and pulled him down to her to whisper into his ear.

“Think we should go?” she giggled helplessly, and he grinned, that sexy smile of his so close to her cheek.

Was it just her or she was getting more drunk and he was getting more sober?

“Yeah, good idea!” he declared, smiling brilliantly.

He leaned across the bar to ask the bartender to call them a cab, even though he had his phone in his pocket. Candice giggled at that but decided not to inform him of his slip-up.

“Do you have money?” she teased, yanking on his arm again and pulling him close.

Grant grinned shamelessly.

“Should I ask him for that too?” He turned toward the bartender. “Hey, dude!”

“No, no, no, shhhh!” She couldn’t stop laughing. “He didn’t mean it! He didn’t mean it!”

The bartender continued his call and then gestured towards the door when he was finished. Looping arms, Grant and Candice stumbled slightly on their way out and promptly informed the driver where they were headed. They couldn’t remember the address, but the guy knew his way around the city and was aware of where they were staying.

Candice decided then and there that she wasn’t the only one bordering on drunk instead of tipsy. Grant just did a better job of looking like he was sober. But she was too far from sober to care what he thought about her behavior. Her insecurities were gone.

After paying the driver – miraculously – Grant helped her out of the cab and they fumbled some more getting into the hotel lobby, the elevator, and finally falling out of it when they got to their floor.

“Want to come to my room?” he asked teasingly, raising his eyebrows suggestively. She couldn’t tell if he was joking.

“Sure!” she burst, and skipped down the hall with him, her arm still looped through his when he got his hotel room opened and they struggled to walk inside at the same time.

Finally they unlooped from each other and burst into the room.

“Ooo, this room looks nice,” she commented, taking a gigantic breath. “Looks just like my room!” She giggled profusely again.

He snickered.

“We can go to your room tomorrow!” he declared, and she nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes! Yes! Aaaand…yes!”

She fell back on the large king-sized bed in the room and stared up at the ceiling. She was shocked to find her reflection staring back at her.

“You have a mirror on your ceiling.” She pouted.

He came to lie next to her after nearly tripping out of his shoes.

“You don’t have one in yours?” he asked, turning to face her.

She turned her head to face him and shook it.

“Uh-uh,” she said, and then made the mistake of dropping her gaze to his lips for a little too long.

“Candice,” he said, and he sounded really sober then it nearly sobered her up.

“Uh-oh.” She sat up quickly. Too quickly. Her head hurt. “Need more alcohol.”

She curled up and off the bed and opened the minifridge in his room where some chilled beers were located.

“Want one?” She held one out to him.

“Okay,” he said.

She grabbed another one for her and handed both to him.

“Can’t open. Too hard.”

She plopped back down on the bed.

He definitely had to be sobering up, because he easily opened both.

“Think we’ll get alcohol poisoning?” she wondered aloud.

He held the beer out to her and hesitated to drink his own. She didn’t though and so he just shook his head and laughed.

“You are the best person I’ve ever met,” he said, setting both their beers on the table.

“Oh, wow. That is really great!” She placed her hands on either side of his head. “I’ve got a crush on you,” she informed him.

“Yeah?” He sounded breathless.

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Biggest crush ever!”

“Me too,” he said back, and it really didn’t register until he leaned in and kissed her without warning.

When he pulled back slowly after she’d responded just a little, he looked deep into her eyes.

“You’re not as drunk as I am,” she accused.

He winced. “I just hold my liquor better.”

She pouted, then got a little angry.

“Were you pretending to be drunk so I’d feel better?”

She felt her insecurities rising and wondered if this was a different kind of drunk.

“No!” he insisted. “I was just being silly, having fun. Sometimes it looks like I’m drunk when I’m just having fun.”

“Oh.”

She leaned back on the bed till her head was nestled nicely on top of two pillows.

“Do you regret coming to my room?” he asked, lightly brushing some of her locks out of her face, dipping his fingers down across her collar bone and along the column of her neck.

He slipped one strap of her dress down her arm to reveal more of her cleavage and then stopped, looking at her looking at him.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked, his voice raspy, and she shook her head.

“No.”

She reached up for him and pulled his face down to hers. Then she kissed him passionately and arched up against him as he climbed on top of her. She allowed his tongue entrance into her mouth and wound her fingers into his spiked, messy hair. His body felt incredible on top of hers, and she wound her legs around his, letting the skirt of her dress hike itself up.

When his hand landed on her bare thigh, she moaned into his mouth, then tipped back her head to give him access to her neck.

“Fuck, Candice, you’re gorgeous.”

She moaned louder when he found the sweet spot on her neck and sucked.

“That feels so good. Keep doing that.”

She bit her bottom lip, feeling her core soak itself through her barely-there panties.

She reached around his back, sunk her fingers into his covered ass, and pressed her body up against his, seeking more.

Then, as if he’d never been there at all, Grant lifted himself off of her and got off the bed. He retrieved a water from the mini fridge and drank half of it.

Candice propped herself up on her elbows.

“What’s wrong?”

He laughed to himself, then turned around.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m sobering up.” She hiccuped.

He came to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah, but I’m not drunk at all. Not really. And I’m not going to take advantage of you.”

Her eyes widened.

“But I may not want this in the morning! I mean, I may not let myself want it.”

He wrapped a hand around the back of his neck.

“That’s just a risk I’m going to have to take.”

He got up and held out his hand to her.

“Come on, I’ll take you back to your room.”

She was annoyed, more than annoyed. She was intensely irritated.

But more than both of those things, another feeling rose up inside of her.

Bile.

“Oh, God.”

She quick ran off the bed and went into Grant’s bathroom to vomit into his toilet. When she was done, she could barely stand up.

Grant wet a washcloth and wiped her mouth before gathering her into his arms and taking her down the hall to her room. He tucked her into bed, went to leave and then stopped when he heard her sigh loudly. He turned back to look at the sad expression on her face and braced himself for the words that would follow.

“I suck.” She huffed. “Don’t I?”

“No,” he said. “You don’t suck.” He managed the tiniest smile. “Goodnight, Candice. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He shut the door behind him before she could answer, and she spoke her reply to the darkness.

“Goodnight.”

She paused.

“I suck.”

[mikrowrites]

thinking out loud

aaron tveit x reader

brown sugar cinnamon pop-tarts, a handsome stranger, and a show about a con man...

So honey now, take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I'm thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are

2009– Seattle, Washington

Y/N stifled a yawn, staring at the vending machine with a blank expression. Her neck hurt, her back hurt, her legs hurt. She could not wait to go to her hotel room upstairs and take a shower.

She was dressed to the nines in her rehearsal wear: a baggy NYU sweatshirt, leggings, and Nikes, her hair messily pulled out of her face, though a few flyaways were stuck to her forehead. Y/N was in the beginnings of rehearsals for her first off-broadway show, and if this one went well she’d make her Broadway debut.

Y/N found the packet of brown sugar cinnamon pop-tarts she wanted, clicking the F9 keys and waiting patiently for her pastries to dispense.

But much to her anguish, they remained caught on the metal contraption rather than falling.

The girl let out a loud groan, smacking her forehead tiredly against the glass of the vending machine.

“Uhm, are you okay?”

Y/N’s eyes opened wide, the girl immediately straightening and turning towards the stranger, before being transfixed for a few seconds.

The stranger was an incrediblely handsome man, probably around her age, with brown hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Y/N regained her sense, plastering a tired smile on her face and nodding way too enthusiastically. “Oh, yeah. I’m great. Wonderful, really.”

“Okay...?” The man laughed slightly, gesturing to the vending machine. “Then why are you giving yourself a concussion on a hotel vending machine?”

Y/N sighed. “It’s been a long day. And my pop-tart won’t dispense. First world issues.”

The man nodded in understanding, before his face contorted into confusion watching Y/N pull another couple dollar bills out of her wallet. “What are you doing?”

“Paying an exorbitant fee for pop-tarts.” Y/N frowned.

“No, no, no, that’s not what you do.” The man shook his head, walking up next to Y/N and putting his hands on either side of the vending machine. “I used to do this in college a lot.”

Before Y/N could say anything the man violently shook the machine, her mouth dropping in surprise before widening into a smile as her pop-tarts and a generous few other packaged snacks fell down.

The two dove down to collect them in their arms, looking up to hear a “HEY!” as a consierge leaned over their desk, shouting at them.

“Run!” Y/N hissed, the two scrambling up and running out of the lobby with the snacks, all the way to an elevator where the man repeatedly hit the close door button, the two laughing hysterically as Y/N shouted out a string of “Go, go, go!”

The doors shut, the two bursting out into a new wave of laughing, Y/N looking up at the man. “That was insane.”

The man shook his head, grinning. “I’m gonna hear about that tomorrow for sure.”

Y/N nudged him with her elbow. “Nah, don’t worry I’ll vouch for ya.”

The man smiled down at her. “What’s your name?” Y/N tilted her head to the side. “Don’t worry, I won’t frame you for Hostess theft.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Aaron.” He introduced himself.

“A pleasure, Aaron.” Y/N returned.

The elevator doors opened, Aaron sighing. “This is my floor...” he looked at the empty hallway before turning to Y/N, gesturing at the abundance of snacks in their hands. “... and I can’t eat all of this alone.”

Y/N smiled rolling her eyes. “I guess I could spare some time for a Twix bar.”

Two hours later and Y/N had never felt more wide awake, the two sitting and chatting with each other as they finished off their treats.

“So you’re from New York?” Aaron asked, nodding to the sweatshirt that hung on Y/N’s frame.

“Yup,” she responded, popping the p. “NYU Dance major, class of ‘05.”

Aaron sat up a bit. “You graduated? That’s awesome.”

Y/N nodded with a smile. “Yeah. It was hard, but sooo worth it. I joined the Rockettes my last two years of school so things were tight.”

The man’s jaw dropped. “You’re a Radio City Rockette? What are you doing in Seattle?”

“Was.” she corrected, popping another Skittle in her mouth. “I didn’t audition because I auditioned for an off-broadway show and got in as a dancer. That’s why I’m here.”

“Wait, are you in Catch Me If You Can?” Aaron asked incredulously.

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. “Yeah, actually, I am. Why? Wait how do you—“

Aaron pointed at himself. “Frank Abagnale Jr.”

She froze for a minute before her eyes widened, Y/N leaning over. “No shit! Oh my god! So you’re...”

He laughed and nodded. “Aaron Tveit, yeah.”

Y/N leaned back and rested her head against the wall. “Well, okay then. Anything else I should know?”

“Uhhh... I can clap with one hand?”

“What the fuck, show me right now.”

—

The next morning, Y/N walked into the rehearsal space, grinning from ear to ear as the events of last night played out in her head.

She threw her bag down onto the floor reaching down to pull her LaDucas and an empty water bottle out of her duffle. When Y/N straightened up, she turned to see a hand held out to her, presenting a package of brown sugar cinnamon pop-tarts.

Y/N looked up and smiled brightly at Aaron, who stood sheepishly, holding out the pop-tarts. “This was your favorite flavor, right?”

“We’ve known each other for less than 24 hours and you already know me so well.” Y/N mused, graciously taking the pop-tart.

“What can I say, minor theft brings people together.” Aaron responded, Y/N letting out a burst of laughter, shaking her head.

“You are too much, Tveit.” She said, turning to sit and strap on her LaDucas.

“I think I’m just enough.” Aaron shot back, walking backwards as he retreated back to where Norbert and Kerry stood.

Y/N shook her head with a smile. “Yeah, just enough.”

He pumped his fist, before throwing her another grin and jogging back over to the main cast. Y/N finished strapping her shoes on with a chuckle.

“Okay everybody!” Jerry shouted. “Let’s go from the top of the show!”

—

Y/N and Aaron jogged down the streets of Seattle together, the girl stopping and leaning against a storefront, fanning herself with a random tourism pamphlet. “God, it’s hot.”

“It doesn’t feel as bad as NYC, though!” Aaron tried to uplift.

“It’s hot as balls.” Y/N whined, Aaron laughing at her antics.

He linked his arm around hers, pulling her into a little cafe (with air conditioning), Y/N sighing in relief. Aaron shook his head with a smile, going to the counter and ordering two iced americanos. Y/N walked up next to him and reached for her bag.

Aaron stopped her. “I’ve got it.”

“No, let me. You buy me pop-tarts every morning, that’s not a cheap endeavor.” Y/N reasoned.

“It’s one coffee.” Aaron teased back, sliding his card before she could protest.

“Thanks.” Y/N responded genuinely.

Aaron wrapped his arm around her shoulder dramatically. “Anything to rescue my girl from the summer heat.”

Y/N’s heart beat a little faster, but she ignored it as she ducked out of his arm. “Ew, you’re gross and sweaty.”

“What, so are you!”

Y/N turned and smacked Aaron in the chest, the man laughing as she went to gather their drinks, the two finding a seat.

“I can’t believe we open in a week.” Y/N wondered, stirring her straw in her drink.

“It always feels surreal. Especially the first time you open a new show.” Aaron agreed.

Y/N smiled. “Yeah.” She took a long sip of her americano, sitting back. “And if we go to broadway... damn.”

“Back to the city, eating, sleeping, and breathing the show.” Aaron added, Y/N laughing a bit.

Y/N raised her drink. “To con men.”

Aaron shook his head, clinking his drink with hers.

“To con men.”

—

The whole cast bowed, the audience roaring with applause. Y/N looked to her left, Aaron making eye contact with her and flashing her that handsome smile. She rolled her eyes, waving as the cast walked off stage.

Later that night Y/N stood out on the empty stage. The theatre was lit only by a couple ghost lights, the dimly lit area clenching at her heart.

“Came to bid your farewells?”

Y/N smiled softly, turning to see Aaron walk onstage with his hands in his pockets. “Yeah.”

He nodded, coming to stand beside her as they looked out at the empty velvet seats.

“I don’t want it to be over.” Y/N spoke, her voice barely a whisper.

“Me neither.” Aaron sighed, turning to look at the girl.

Y/N turned and looked up at him, giving him a sad smile. “When we get back to the city, you’ll call me, right?”

“Of course.” He reassured.

“And when you go back to Next to Normal, I’ll be in the front row.” Y/N promised.

“And when you perform with the Rockettes this winter I’ll be at Radio City Hall.” Aaron smiled.

Y/N nodded, turning to look back at the theatre. “And with that,” she shouted out with her arms flung out and open wide, “I bid you adieu!”

Aaron watched her, his heart beating rapidly in his chest as she bowed to the empty theater, her arms out, before returning to her standing position. She let her arms drop to her sides, nodding in finality. Y/N turned and smiled at him, Aaron was left breathless.

The ghost lights’ illumination cast perfectly on her face, accentuating every feature. Aaron couldn’t help but stare, because he was looking at the most beautiful girl in the whole world.

Y/N sighed, clicking her tongue. “We should probably go before stage management throws us out.”

Suddenly Aaron burst forwards, in three long strides he approached Y/N, resting both hands on each side of her face as he kissed her, the girl making a noise of surprise before melting into him. She pushed her lips back onto his, reaching a hand up to run through his hair before resting it on the nape of his neck.

The two pulled away gasping for air, their eyes meeting. It felt like electricity was zapping through both of them, Y/N smiling. “When we get back to New York, ask me on a date. I’ll say yes.”

“And when you say yes,” Aaron whispered. “I’ll take you out on the best date of your life.”

“One without vending machine theft?”

Aaron chuckled, leaning in. “One without minor felonies, yes.” He brought her into another kiss, Y/N smiling against his lips.

“Hey!” One of the stage managers shouted. “No sex on my stage!”

“Shit!” Y/N gasped, the two quickly pulling away from each other. “Sorry, Mike, we’re on our way out!”

Aaron laughed, Y/N shaking her head in amusement. “Okay. See you on Broadway, Mr. Tveit.”

“See you on Broadway, Miss L/N.” He said.

Y/N stepped away, licking her lips and picking up her bag off the floor. She stepped backwards, smiling at Aaron who stood on the stage watching her every move.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

a/n: so the next couple of aaron blurbs are gonna have two things in common: 1) always involve an ed sheeran song bc i’m unoriginal and 2) all kinda revolve around each other, like these aren’t standard part 1, part 2, etc. but the storylines definitely intertwine somewhat? idk if that makes sense. anyways, i’m a slut for cmiyc so here’s this!

EDIT: Happy Birthday to (1) man!

[jingyismom]

got tagged by the wonderful @mylastbraincql to post 10 Things About Myself, which, are there even 10 things other than cql and writing fanfiction??? let’s find out

1. i don’t want to be one of those people who are like ~i love languages~ but...i do. oops. i’m only fluent in english and french (my college degree), but i’ve put work into at least the basics of...well. this is under a cut so let’s just go: latin (a whole minor’s worth), greek (classical and modern), mandarin, american sign language, spanish, german, sanskrit, and arabic. i particularly love medieval french. i kind of wanted to be a linguist but academia is a hellscape, so i’m just a hobbyist language learner and that’s pretty fun. i need to really work on my spanish and start korean next, but right now my brain is deep in mandarin mode (thanks c-dramas).

2. i wish i had the tenacity and drive to be a musician. i love playing music, my mom started teaching me when i was 4 so i should be super good right? wrong. i still play piano like a 4yo. string bass is my ~instrument but it’s been years since i played it seriously. i am mediocre at guitar and an enthusiastic but unstudied singer. maybe some day i’ll put real work in again but for now that executive dysfunction’s a real bitch, so even thought i am a Music Person, singing in the car is about as wild as i get.

3. i was a substitute teacher for 4...5? years. 4 years of regular substituting here after 1 year of working as a language assistant/substitute english teacher in france. teaching is excellent fun and i love it dearly but the field of education is currently pretty soul-crushing in the US, so i have been trying to figure out what...to do.

4. the town where i lived in france was where jeanne d’arc was captured (i was already a huge fan, and getting to kneel where she prayed her last free prayer was...something. i’m not even religious), and one town over from pierrefonds, the castle where they shot bbc’s merlin. alas, they had just finished shooting the final season when i got there. but it really does Look Like That. once, when i was bringing some friends to see it, we missed our stop and got off the bus at a countryside cemetery (i am a goth, this is my jam), and walked back to pierrefonds, since it was a sunny day. until it started hailing. we took refuge in a spooky, empty church from the 1100s and got to explore some of its catacombs and reliquary. it was an absolutely perfect day.

5. i have never not been a Big Fan of something. i have an entire shelf of Tolkien volumes that has lived in my room since the 6th grade. i used to go to warped tour and san diego comic con every year. i have slept on the sidewalk in line for things...many, many times. but this is somehow the first time i’m...trying to participate in the fan community? trying to contribute and talk to people? it’s wildly nerve-wracking but also SO rewarding because everyone? is so? nice??? i love you all

6. i’m a distant cousin of George Gordon, Lord Byron, and EXCEEDINGLY proud of this fact. he was so ridiculous, and stupid, and marvelous, and queer. sometimes i’m like, it couldn’t have been wilde? or shakespeare? but i do love my horrible cousin. it was shocking studying in athens where they have actual monuments and museum exhibits dedicated to him...i was like...this guy? this drug-addled sex addict? okay...okay, good for you, cuz.

7. really all i want is to make people laugh. i feel like i come across weirdly stiff on the internet, and i have apparently horribly intimidating vibes with new people, but really...i am basically just jack black. i don’t mean that positively or negatively it is just neutrally true. i am a clown.

8. i wish i had cool physical skills like martial arts or dance or even a sport but...my body is...uncooperative. i am not necessarily clumsy or uncoordinated i am just Too Tired. oh, and also i have a funky little arm birth defect which is mostly unnoticeable, just makes me a bit awkward and painful. instead i do grandma things like knitting and sewing, which are cool in their own way. it’s very satisfying to make something with your hands. i’ve made an entire (simple) ren faire costume and edwardian ballgown, as well as lots of various odds and ends. oh and i’m pretty good at makeup! i did wedding makeup for a friend, and not in a “wedding of questionable taste” kind of way. i did lots of research and several practice runs and it was all a very classy vintage affair.

9. if you ask me to pick between books and movies i Cannot. i just...love stories. i love seeing them and hearing them and reading them and telling them. there’s nothing better or more important than stories. whether it’s pacific rim or hamlet, philadelphia story or dogsbody, i cannot live without it.

10. i used to work as a street character at a renaissance faire. please do not hold this against me. if you want some ABSOLUTELY WILD stories (”baaa means no”), just ask

this was wildly difficult and i feel like it swings wildly from depressing and self-effacing to ridiculous bragging but i would like to see my mutuals do it anyway! i’m just gonna randomly tag @valarinde @milkcrates @universesvisiting @cendiar @habibinasir @fapamir if you want a fun little distraction but seriously if you see this and want to do it, i tagged you! you’re tagged!