#i mean he will absolutely still stay up way too late sometimes

[spookysshadow]

Going off of that super successful, breadwinner Izuna and his career academic husband/house husband Tobirama - but set in founders era.

Like: The village gets built without Izuna being killed in battle (hooray!) - don't ask me how - it shall simply be. They agree for the sake of a more permanent peace that they should throw a marriage treaty in there - just in case.

Madara sees no point, but Izuna operates on the "I must have Tobirama within my filed of vision at ALL TIMES to avoid catastrophe" and so he volunteers to wife up Tobirama. They make a contract with the following details:

Tobirama will be allowed to keep up his training, but will be barred from missions until the Uchiha are more comfortable with it;

Consequentially he can also train the younger Uchiha within the presence of a senior member of the Clan (other shinobi or an elder);

He is to prioritize maintaining the household, mainly including but not limited to: caring for Izuna's ward, one Kagami Uchiha (let's just say, since Izuna's the one with the wife/projected to have a wife, he was given guardianship over wee Kagami instead of his brother), dealing with the household finances, and tending the garden/koi pond. They have a maid/chef, etc for other typical household things and would have had a gardener, but Izuna figured Senju = Nature people, sure why not;

He is allowed to do research and even have a lab instead the house/next to the house - but his research should prioritize his husband's clan first, then the village;

He has to bottom, unless his husband states otherwise

Hashirama takes one look at the agreement and is ready to throw hands. How dare they cage his baby brother? How dare they!

Meanwhile Tobirama, who is running on two hours of sleep, his sister-in-law's breakfast blend tea and a prototype ration bar he made that tastes like shit, skims through the contract ONCE and signs it.

Hashirama is freaking out because: OTOUTO, PLEASE YOU MUSTN'T - and Tobirama is like: Bitch stfu this sounds like a vacation. You mean to tell me I get to relax near fishes, get my back blown out, be a sensei and do as much research as I want?? Sign me UP!

Seriously, Tobirama can't remember the last time he has had this much free time. Of course, after some sleep and a proper meal he realizes maaaaaybe he should have read the terms and conditions a little more closely, but overall none of it sounds bad. He's mostly worried about Izuna's attitude, but even that doesn't really put a damper on his day.

Izuna and Madara, of course, are genuinely surprised the Senju agreed to fast to the contract, but hey they won't complain.

Fast forward in a few years and Izuna is the primary breadwinner, working at the Hokage Tower, taking missions, even being a Sensei to the Academy at some point. Meanwhile Tobirama is at home, tending to their koi pond (yes, Izuna they all do have their own names and yes, he will address them as such), training Kagami, working on medical advancements for his new clan's eye issues and some jutsus he never thought he'd ever get the chance to, giving his husband massages when he returns home from working so looong at the office all day, occasionally (all the time, really) enticing him into bed so he can help relax even more.

(It's been years, Izuna's asked him if he wishes to return to shinobi work or work more hands-on in the Hokage Tower instead of looking over Izuna's documents and nitpicking. But he always knows the answer is no - if anything he only asks because his brother and his brother-in-law urge him to. After all, he's never seen Tobirama this relaxed until after they got married -- he remembers feeling smug in the beginning, in thinking he'd effectively clipped his enemies wings by chaining him to the Uchiha. Instead Tobirama floated into his house with a calm and relief that Izuna initially was annoyed about - after all he was trying to piss off the Senju - Hashirama understood the assignment, why was his Senju always doing the opposite?

And then he realized how nice it was to have Tobirama waiting at home for him, with Kagami in tow. How happy it made him when his husband would tell him about what they train the young Uchiha's, later on some other students, in and what they got into. It was especially fun knowing that Tobirama had no issues with the dynamics of their sex life and if Izuna wanted to change it up, he was always willing to try something once - with notes -- and sure working in the Hokage Tower was brutal and they could have most definitely used Tobirama's help (sentiments whined by his brother and brother-in-law) but coming home to a relaxed, content husband who was willing to help him with the Village anyway and then cuddle with him when he got a stress headache? 20x better. )

aaaand that's all I got folks

[silent-stories]

SOME TBAF HEADCANONS

-Whether it’s for work, a casual day, or even a date night with Noah, Luna marches into your room and picks out something completely mismatched but insists, “You’ll look so beautiful!”

-If Luna wakes up scared or has a nightmare, she sneaks in between you and Noah. Noah usually wakes up with a tiny foot in his ribs.

-Even though Luna making up the story, she sits next to Neki with a book in her lap and tells him a story. He just lays there like the most patient dog in the world.

-She makes up ridiculous excuses to stay up late like “But daddy, the moon is still awake!” or “I forgot to tell Neki goodnight!” Noah always plays along but ultimately scoops her up and tucks her in.

-You and Noah keep a jar of Luna’s funny quotes. Sometimes, she says the wildest, funniest things, so you write them down and save them. One day, when she’s older, you’ll read them all back to her.

-One day, Luna finds your makeup and decides that Noah needs to look “prettier.” He sits there patiently while she smears bright pink blush all over his face. “Beautiful,” she says proudly.

-She calls Noah’s tattoos "stickers". She asks him where he gets his “stickers” and if she can have some too. Noah tells her she can have as many as she wants—when she’s 18.

-She calls your coffee “grown-up juice”. She always asks, “Can I try?” and you always say no. One day, Noah jokingly lets her smell it, and she makes the most disgusted face. “That’s yucky.”

-The band is completely wrapped around Luna's tiny finger. It doesn’t matter what she asks for—they give it to her. “Ice cream before dinner? Sure, just don’t tell your dad.” Noah finds out every time.

-Luna makes the band play “tea party” with her. The metalcore musicians turn into absolute softies when Luna drags them into her pretend tea parties. Jolly holds a tiny pink teacup with complete seriousness and for some reason Folio is wearing a tiara.

-Luna insists on helping you bake. Every time you make cookies, she drags her little stool to the counter and demands to "help," which mostly means sneaking chocolate chips when she thinks you're not looking.

-Matt lets her wear his hats. They’re way too big for her, but she loves them.

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I absolutely love your writing! PA series is my absolute favourite! Would you consider writing about Y/N who's struggled with anxiety her entire life? Maybe Jamie comforts her during a stresfull situation or she helps him deal with his own anxiety?

Steady Hands

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, angst, anxiety

A/N: Thank you for the request! Let's explore a different side of Y/N! Btw this is just an in-between chapter not relevant to the timeline!

The most challenging things for Y/N to do as Jamie Tartt's assistant were his ever-changing schedule, his tendency to forget important appointments, and his occasional moments of existential dread when he thought too hard about his legacy. Y/N was usually Jamie's rock, there to comfort him and care for him...

So it was rather unusual when Jamie had to comfort her.

But life had a funny way of flipping things on their head.

Y/N had always been good at keeping things together. She had to be. Anxiety wasn’t something she could just turn off, but she’d gotten good at managing it—breathing exercises, staying organized, making lists. Keeping herself busy helped.

And working for Jamie? That definitely kept her busy.

But today, no amount of planning or deep breathing could stop the weight pressing on her chest, the way her hands trembled at her sides.

It had started with a simple mistake. One email. A scheduling error. A time slot mix-up that meant Jamie had been double-booked for an interview and a sponsorship meeting.

She’d caught it too late. The PR team was annoyed. The sponsors were furious at her. And even though Jamie himself had just shrugged and said, “S’alright, babe. We’ll just move one of ‘em, yeah?” she couldn’t stop the overwhelming guilt flooding her.

She should have caught it earlier. She should have double-checked. She should have—

“Oi.”

A voice pulled her from her spiral, and suddenly Jamie was in front of her, brow furrowed in concern.

She must have zoned out, standing frozen in the hallway outside Rebecca’s office.

His voice was softer this time. “You alright, love?”

Y/N swallowed, forcing a nod. “Yeah. Just—long day.”

Jamie didn’t look convinced. His gaze flickered to her hands—still trembling slightly, even as she tried to hide them in her pockets.

And Jamie—who was normally all charm and banter, all teasing remarks and cheeky grins—just watched her for a moment, quiet and assessing.

Then, without a word, he reached out and took her hand.

Not in the usual Jamie way, either. Not the casual, half-distracted way he sometimes grabbed her wrist to pull her toward a meeting, or the playful handshake they always did after a good game.

This was different.

His fingers curled around hers, steady and warm, grounding her.

“C’mere,” he murmured, tugging her toward the empty boot room just off the hallway.

The door shut behind them, muffling the noise of the club.

Jamie didn’t let go.

“You’re freakin’ out, love,” he said simply. Not a question—just a fact.

Y/N let out a short, humorless laugh. “You don’t have to sugarcoat it.”

Jamie tilted his head, watching her. “Ain’t sugarcoatin’ it. Just sayin’—you’re freakin’ out. And you don’t need to.”

Her breath hitched slightly. “Jamie, I fucking messed up. That’s—”

“So?” Jamie cut in, voice easy. “People mess up all the time.”

She shook her head, looking away. “Not me. I can’t mess up.”

Jamie frowned. “Why not?”

“Because.” Her voice was too sharp, too fast. She took a shaky breath. “Because if I mess up, it means I’m not good enough. And if I’m not good enough, then—”

She stopped herself.

Jamie was still holding her hand, standing right in front of her. Still watching her, his expression unreadable.

Then, quietly he says:

“That’s bollocks, you know.”

Y/N blinked. “What?”

He huffed a soft laugh, shaking his head. “All that shit you just said. Bollocks. You do get to mess up, Y/N. Doesn’t mean you ain’t good enough. Just means you’re human.”

She let out a shaky breath. “Jamie—”

“Look.” He squeezed her hand, firm and steady. “I forget shit all the time. I mess up interviews, I miss appointments—you’re literally paid to fix my fuck-ups. And you do. Every time.”

She let out a small, reluctant laugh.

Jamie grinned and softly caressed her smiling cheeks. “There she is. There's my girl.”

The weight in her chest eased just a little.

Jamie’s grin softened. “You’re fuckin’ brilliant, alright? One little mistake don’t change that.”

She exhaled, shoulders loosening. “You’re… actually kind of good at this.”

Jamie smirked. “Course I am. Y’think I don’t know what it’s like?”

She frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”

Jamie hesitated. Just for a second.

Then, with a small shrug.

“I get in my head sometimes too, yeah? Before big matches. When I’m knackered and feel like I ain’t doin’ enough. I start thinkin’—what if I fuck up? What if I lose? What if I ain’t good enough?”

Y/N stared at him. She’d never heard him say anything like that before.

Jamie scratched the back of his neck. “Dunno. Just—sometimes it helps when someone reminds me it’s all in my head.”

Y/N’s chest ached.

She squeezed his hand. “Jamie.”

He met her eyes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this,” she said softly, “but you’re one of the strongest people I know.”

Jamie blinked, looking genuinely taken aback. “Oh.”

A slow smile spread across his face. “Well. You ain’t so bad yourself.”

Y/N huffed a laugh.

Jamie squeezed her hand one last time before letting go.

“Right,” he said, stretching his arms over his head. “Now, d’you wanna get outta here? Go get some food or summat? Reckon you need a break.”

Y/N hesitated. “Jamie, I still have work to—”

“Oi. Shut up.” Jamie poked her cheek. “S’not a request. We’re goin’.”

She laughed, shaking her head. “Oh my god, I hate you.”

Jamie grinned. “Yeah, yeah. Liar, you fucking love me.”

She might really fucking do...

[nepenthendline]

the not-so-good parts about dating them

a/n: I am nothing if not a red flag lover

includes: midoriya, todokori, bakugo, shinsou, kirishima, kaminari, iida, hawks, aizawa

Midoriya -

Midoriya's priority list is '1. everyone' so, sometimes, it's difficult to feel special in his eyes. It's not that he doesn't see you as a top priority, he just often lets himself get caught up with other people and dealing with their problems so you don't get his undivided attention all that often. He doesn't mean to do it at all, but he has missed dates before because he was staying late at work to help his students or got stuck helping out a friend.

Bakugo -

🤨 Aside from his obvious anger issues, Bakugo often struggles to see you as a team and not just individuals. Whenever you argue, he often sees it as a 'me vs you' and not a 'us vs the problem', and he sometimes makes big decisions without talking to you first. He feels like he has to be better than you because he needs to be a provider and a protector, so he tackles issues on his own instead of talking to you and working things through as a team.

Todoroki -

Todokori has no reference to what a 'healthy' relationship looks like, and it terrifies him. All he knows is what, or who, he doesn't want to end up like, and it stops him from taking initiative in your relationship because he's scared of doing the wrong thing. He knows he's not like his father, but he still worries that he's going to end up like him anyway, as if it's fated. Because of this, things move incredibly slowly, and it can be hard to tell that he does love you since he doesn't often make moves or use words to show you. He knows he wants, and needs, to improve though, he just needs some guidance.

Kaminari -

Kaminari struggles with self-sabotage in your relationship - he convinces himself that he's not good enough for you or that he's making your life worse by being with you, and can push you away, cancel dates late minute or act like he doesn't need you. These actions never last long before he snaps out of it, and you're well aware by now of what's going on in his head when he starts acting like this, but he's always convinced he's going to fuck this up. And sometimes, he believes it so much that he does. The guilt eats away at him daily.

Kirishima -

(Absolutely nothing) Kirishima hates showing you when he's feeling down, weak, or 'unmanly'. He bottles up a lot of his negative emotions and thoughts away from you and they gnaw away at him. Its not that he feels like he can't talk to you, in fact sometimes he lets things slip because he feels so comfortable around you, but quickly tries to put a positive spin on his words so that you don't worry. It's more that he feels he shouldn't, and that you have enough things to deal with as it is. He wants to be a safe space for you, so dealing with his emotions is out of the question. He never blows up at you because things get too far though, you just wish he could rely on you more.

Iida -

For the first while in your relationship, it almost felt like you lost your friendship with Iida. The lines between being friends and being a partner were extremely defined to Iida for some time, and he felt that every interaction between the two of you had to be so formally-relationshipy - this meant things such as only spending time with you on pre-scheduled dates, affection felt like ticking boxes on what was 'meant' to come next in a relationship, or not letting you see his deeper, darker times. Things do get better after some time and conversations, but it kinda felt like the first year of your relationship didn't really count.

Shinsou -

Shinsou feels like being with you is the most selfish act someone has ever committed. Sometimes he even thinks that, somehow in a way he doesn't know, he's forcing you to be with him. He feels like you can do so much better than him, but he loves you too much to let you go (not that you would anyway). He thinks that he doesnt treat you as well as you deserve and so he goes overboard to 'make things up to you', when in reality he's the most caring, selfless person you've met. He often brings up the idea of you finding someone else, or that you can cheat on him and he'll stay if that makes you happy, and it breaks your heart every time.

Aizawa -

Aizawa feels like everyone he truly lets in, he has lost, and he is terrified that's going to happen to you. So, he tries to keep his feelings and thoughts for you as surface-level as possible. The problem is that he's terrible at doing that - he has such a big heart and he wants you in every way imaginable, which creates a lot of inner conflict for him. One minute he's telling you everything weighing on his mind and letting himself fall deeper into you, and the next he's keeping you at arms length. He's scared to admit that he relies on you or that he needs you, but he does it anyway and it tears him apart inside.

Hawks -

He lies to you more times that he would like to admit. Well, it's more that he's very good about skirting around a question or situation rather than telling you the truth. There's some things in his life, his past, or his thoughts that he feels are best not being part of your life, and so he will tell you little lies and make adjustments to the truth to fit a narrative that he prefers. He wants to protect you from any negativity or darkness that he can - he knows what going through that feels like and he does not want you to have to feel that too, but mostly, and most selfishly, he's terrified of you thinking he's a bad person because of some actions he's had to take. It can be almost impossible to tell when he's lying or telling the truth because he's extremely open and upfront with other topics.

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Just a little something something for you guys...as a treat😈

When Simon's away for a while on deployment, it can get lonely. He's knows by the way your texting, when he gets the chance and can text, that you are missing him like crazy. You tell him how you can hardly wait till he returns, how your body is just aching for him something fierce.

And fuck his aching for yours too.

If he could hop on a plane, he would in an instant just to get back to you. Unfortunately, that's not something available to him at the moment.

But that doesn't mean there's nothing for him to do.

Simon knows his baby needs something to take the edge off, something to tide over that insatiable appetite for him until he can come home and fuck her proper the first chance he can get. You never asked for it, but he knew you wouldn't mind.

Ding

Your phone goes off. It's late, but youre no stranger to staying up well past dark; sometimes that was the only way you'd get a minute to talk to Simon when he was away across the world.

You check your phone. It's a text... a picture...

At first glance at the small icon on the lock screen, the image is kind of dark so you have to click on it to bring it up and when you do you nearly faint.

The caption reads: “Gotta be stealthy so they don't fuckin' catch me, but this one's for you sweetheart."

Simon is clearly propped up in his cot, his legs splayed open, shirt off. All that you can see is his thick torso with it's small speckling of light colored hair across his abs. The belt and zipper of his pants are completely undone and the waistband flung open. In one of his meaty hands he has a hold of his cock, already swollen with a little glistening at the top caught in the low light - most definitely a product from thinking of you.

You have to swallow to keep the spit from dribbling down out of the corner your mouth. Instantly you feel the heat rise in your cheeks, burning through your face as the blood pools there. It feels like you are going to pass out.

He's done it, he's taken your breath away in an instant.

Not even recovered from that glorious image your phone dings again, this time downloading something for a few seconds. Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath caught in your lungs, as you wait to see what he's done now.

Ding

It's downloaded. This time it's a video...about a minute long. Your shaky, excited finger instantly clicks play.

"Mmmm..." his breath groan hits your ears as the vision of him stroking his length plays across the screen. His voice in hushed, clearly trying to be as quiet as he can while still making sure you can hear his words. "Fuck darlin', I wish you were here... rather have that sweet little pussy 'round me than my hand."

You've stopped breathing, literally; you could hear a pin drop in the room. The video of his abdominal muscles contracting and releasing as he continues to stroke his cock is all you can focus on now. Looks like he's in the middle of things.

He groans again, his breathing getting faster. "Fuck, I miss ya luv. It's been hell not having ya near for this fuckin' long. Nearly rippin' a hole in my goddamn pants from being so fuckin hard. I swear... gonna absolutely wreck ya when I get back. Don't even bother wearing any panties cause they're gonna get shredded off ya. Nothin', and I mean fuckin' nothin' is gonna keep me from buryin' all this in ya the fuckin' second we're alone. I wanna make you cum so fuckin bad baby."

The video fades out amongst the sound of another low, gravely moan and your sanity is gone. Dear God you were a lucky one tonight. You have to take several minutes just to relearn how to function properly again so you can text him back.

Before you can do that your phone goes off once more.

Ding

One final message pops up on screen: "Think of me later when you cum, sweetheart..."

Oh, you would, you would. And maybe just to be nice...you'd send him something back too.

Part 2:

[rafecameronsversion]

bright beverly hills || r.c

summary : kooks bully you at a party, and rafe reassures you.

warnings : bullying, discrimination, cursing, use of y/n, feminine descriptions.

i'm unsure if this is any good 🥸 i feel like i rushed it a lot. but hope u likey

rafe and i were two sides of the same coin, opposite but inseparable. he grew up in a silver spoon gated community, everything was served to him in a silver platter. a bubble-wrapped future, footsteps for him ready to follow.

while i was having candle-lit dinners at the cut, he had them in fancy michelin star restaurants. rafe had a cold exterior when it came to other people; to protect himself. however, when it came to me, he was the most caring boy.

clandestine meetings at the age of 12, his father would berate him for hanging out with a "pogue" like me, but he couldn't let him take away the one thing that brought him peace. we were best friends, eventually becoming more with lingering touches and longing glances.

he became a honorable part of my humble family, sometimes being invited over to our most simple of dinners, dancing in the living room late night swims in the beach.

it was friday night in outer banks, a party in full swing. this house belonged to topper. i was clinging to rafe's arm, feeling out of place. the tension in the air was palpable. i had debated that i didn't want to go here, knowing i would feel singled out and small.

this place yelled every single thing that was different between us two. the glistening chandeliers, polished floors, and snobby laughs coming from kooks who have never worked a day in their lives.

rafe smiles, looking at me. "i'll grab us some drinks real quick, alright baby?" he spoke, a gentle tone in his voice that was reserved only for me. i hesitated, not wanting to be left alone in this damned place. but i nodded, i couldn't be the one to hold him back, especially in his world. glamorous, shining, bright beverly hills.

he turned around, getting lost in the crowd of super rich kids. i stood in a less crowded corner, trying to attract the least attention, and it seemed to have worked.

three girls nearby were whispering among the other, yet they were louder than they realized.

"could you believe rafe cameron brought that girl here?" the blonde one scoffed, jealously reeked out of her mouth. the other two agreed, chiming in.

"must be hard living on the cut, always desperate to climb their way out." another one insinuated. i couldn't help but scoff at the idea, my heart was heavy and i couldn't bare being here. the bimbo chimed in, a confused look on her face.

"you really think she slept her way to be his girlfriend? i don't think even cameron would allow that..." she spoke, eyes wide. the blone one rolled her eyes. "well, even the richest men can still think with their dicks, jessica." she was an absolute mean girl, and her tone displayed it perfectly.

i felt like the walls were moving in on me, it was all too much. this place was too much. i quietly turned away, going outside by the porch where no one seemed to stay. i breathed in the fresh air, fidgeting.

soon after, rafe had found where i was. he looked at me fondly, a soft smile on his face. "hey... there you are. i thought i lost you in there." he said, rubbing his hand over my shoulder. i exhaled sharply.

"why am i here, rafe?" i questioned, my voice was low as i stood against the railing of the front porch of toppers' home, that was as big as the living room of my family's house. rafe looked at me confused.

"what do you mean, baby?" he asked, a soft and confused look in his eyes.

i laughed out a scoff, a bitter tone. "i don't belong here, rafe. your world... this mansion, these people." i paused, unsure how to continue. "i grew up on the cut, these people do nothing but look down at us. i can't be here rafe, i can't be in this world."

rafe's jaw tightened, looking away for a second before looking back at me. "you know that's not fair" he spoke, his voice on the edge.

"what's not fair is you pushing to bring me here! i don't have any of the things the girls here have. you'd be better off with someone from your world..." i spoke, my voice breaking a little from frustration.

rafe's eyes softened, he moved closer toward me. "baby..."

"don't you see how different we are? your world is all polished floors and bright chandeliers. mine is messy and chaotic." i spoke softly, afraid my voice will betray me.

he reached out, grabbing both hands and bringing them closer to him. "listen, i didn't bring you here to make you feel small. i don't want these girls, they can all go fuck themselves! i love you, and i love that we're different." he spoke softly, kissing the knuckles of my hands.

"none of this matters to me, baby. it doesn't mean anything if i don't have you." rafe spoke, his blue eyes warm.

i searched his face, looking into his eyes. i want to believe him yet doubt lingered in the back of my head. "you say that now..."

"but what happens when your friends remind you of who i am? when your dad tells you i'm not good enough." my voice was below a whisper, afraid of the possibilities of this relationship we had.

rafe held me by my shoulders, "i don't care. i'm done caring what they think. i want you, and the messy and chaotic world you've shown me." he said, leaning in and kissing my forehead.

"i don't need this world. i want the one where you showed me it's okay to be real, that it's okay to feel." he says softly, looking deeply into my eyes.

the way he looked at me so gently, so genuine. i felt as if i could cry. i attacked him in a hug, my arms wrapped around his torso.

"its just... those girls get under my skin. kept talking about how i slept my way out of the cut." i admitted quietly, my head still against his chest.

rafe shakes his head, hugging me back. "never ever let them get to you. they're just pissed." he pulled back to look at me, smiling. he pressed his lips onto mine, for a short and delicate kiss. "how about we just get out of here?" he said, a cheeky smile on his face.

i laughed, nodding my head yes. "i'd like that so much. please." he grinned, putting my hand in his as he guided us out of this place.

[dreamsontheirway]

It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.

Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k

Navigation

Join Taglist

✿

Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.

He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.

It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.

Hi darling. Almost finished?

You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.

You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.

You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.

You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.

You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.

You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.

Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.

You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.

You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.

“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“

“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”

“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.

You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.

“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”

The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.

“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.

The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.

“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.

Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.

You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.

“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.

You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.

“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.

You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.

Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”

You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.

“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.

“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”

He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.

“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.

He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.

You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.

The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.

All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.

You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.

Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.

“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.

“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.

Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.

“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.

Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.

Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.

You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.

At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.

“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”

His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”

You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.

As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”

-----

Join Taglist

[oniikabuto]

one bed!

-- sfw --

characters: kyle broflovski, kenny mccormick, stan marsh, eric cartman

a/n: i did this for a different fandom like a year ago. i love the one bed trope i just had to write a new one for south park....,,, lmk if you want part 2

notes: fluff yayyy; gn reader; characters have a fat crush on you live laugh mutual pining;

guys requests are very much open rigjt now pleasseeeekksflkdfnkjs

— ⛧ k. broflovski

sweetest guy. he doesn't want to take your bed, but you insist.

he also hangs his jacket on the door and keeps his hat neatly on your desk... which is kinda funny and cute that he tries so hard to be neat

freezes up and goes red when you slide into the bed next to him. poor boy is about to melt.

"dude why are you so sweaty are you okay"

"huh- what? yeah, yeah it's cool i'm fine it's..,,,,,,,"

wakes up with a puddle of drool and a wet cheek. he panics and wipes his face and looks over to see if you're awake. you pretend you aren't for kyle's sake. he's so cute.

his nose also does that stupid whistley thing it's so funny

a relatively still sleeper. he just kinda curls up and.. sleeps. sometimes he murmurs something in his sleep.

"cartman.. shut up..",

"what?", you murmur groggily.

"no"

"kyle??? are you awake??"

(no response)

genuinely cannot remember any of that when he wakes up.

— ⛧ k. mccormick

it's like 1am and you turn off the movie as the credits roll.

when you look over at kenny, he looks like a baby that had just woken up.

"dude, what time is it..", he murmurs.

"um.. late." you definitely did not mean to have him over for so long.

"do you wanna go home, or like.. stay with me?"

kenny perks up immediately when you offer to let him spend the night. huge, shit-eating grin spread across his face.

"dumbass", you laugh. but you kinda wanted him over, too.

he sits in your room and pokes at all of your plushies while he waits for you to go get a change of clothes for him. ("no way you're sleeping in that eyesore of a parka!")

almost faints when you change your shirt in front of him

youre the only person that can fluster him like that.

sleeps curled up like a little car

(I MEANT TO TYPE CAT BUT THATS REALLY FUCKING FUNNY)

makes funny noises

like when a dog is sleeping

you'll wake up with his face in your chest and he'll swear it was an accident. it was not

— ⛧ s. marsh

you were at your desk doing homework and stan was on your bed on his phone, both doing your own thing as music played from your speaker.

it's not until that last math problem that you realize it's late. really, really late. you look over at stan, and he's face-down dead asleep on your bed, phone still in one hand.

you don't want to wake him up and tell him to go home, so instead you take his hat off and leave it on your bedpost.

he's splayed across the bed right in the middle.

how?? are you supposed to move him???

after a moment of deliberation, you hold your breath and roll him over, praying he doesn't wake up.

he does obviously

"ow..???? y/n??"

"shit. sorry. it's late, just go back to sleep. you can walk home tomorrow morning."

"wha- okay"

he's too tired to object

plus he secretly loves being in your bed. it smells like you

snores and breathes kinda funny once in a while

no matter how still he looks when you get into the bed with him, somehow you wake up with his limbs sprawled out like a spider.

in the morning, his leg is on top of you and his hand is on your face.

— ⛧ e. cartman

actually such a bitch about staying over

he definitely tried to distract you so that he would HAVE to spending the night

he just loves spending time with you but he doesnt wanna ask :(

"but the couch will make my back stiff! i'll be soo sore in the morning!"

"just say you want to sleep in my room with me, cartman."

"whaat?? if you insist, i guess!"

makes himself absolutely at home. if you want to sleep in your own bed, you'll have to sleep on top of him or touching him.

he definitely does that on purpose

as much as it pains you to admit it, cartman is actually like really really comfortable.

even if he's squishing you to death

and he claims he has no idea he does that in his sleep

smells like a dove soap bar or like. baby shampoo and its actually really nice

snores like a monster truck engine

leaves his shit all over the floor but also offers to help clean up to impress you

(he cant clean for shit but at least he tried??)

[dolliuv]

breeding w/ ot9 &team | headcanons

ᝰ.ᐟ warning! this post contains smut consisting the members: yuma, jo, harua, taki, and maki. if you are uncomfortable w/ smut with said members, i suggest not reading past “read more” , i will not be responsible for your discomfort if you still continue to read past that point.

| contains : senpai/oppa kinks, size kinks ( for majority members ), breeding, choking kink, degradation/praising, mean doms ( for certain members ), overstimulation

| dynamics : dom! ot9 teamies x reader

KOGA YUDAI

yudai is big on breeding, he loves it so much. being able to fill you to the brim, making you shake from your 5th orgasm as his cock fills your pretty little hole up with his hot seed. he’ll always tell you how much he’ll let his cum fill you up until you’re begging. yudai is absolutely a breeding kink man!!

“come on, princess, i know you can take more.”

MURATA FUMA

oh ‘y , how fuma is also a fellow sucker of breeding. he likes to think of it as his way of ‘making love’ , when really he’s fucking you nearly braindead simply because he wants to cum in you as much as he can, he gets off on the thought of his babies in you.

“how cute.”

WANG YIXIANG

nicholas is either fucking his cum into you or cumming on your boobs, most case scenario, he’s breeding you.. alot. like until you’re crying begging him to stop, you let him breed you once and now he can’t stop, he will literally beg sometimes to let him breed you.

“take what i’m giving or you can just pleasure yourself.”

BYUN EUIJOO

euijoo’s always wanted to be a father :( , so when you’re letting him breed your cunt like whore, he enjoys it so bad, his hands on your hips to keep you still as he’s fucking his cum back into you relentlessly, he’s gonna make it known he loves breeding you tbh

“oh? can’t take more of oppa’s cum,huh?”

૮ ․ ․ ྀིა🦴 if you proceed past this point, you are responsible for your own feelings, not me!

NAKAKITA YUMA

yuma… that little FUCK. he will ABSOLUTELY breed you no hesitation, like no condom? oh alright, he’ll just use you as his personal cum dump to fuck you full of his kids, and that stupid smirk on his face would be there

“just take it, i know you can, kitty.”

ASAKURA JO

jo, see now he’s a wild card, he either would be fucking the shit out of you and breeding you to the brim ORRR he’s making love to you but yet STILL breeding you to the brim. he’s always up for either way, he just loves taking photos of your cunt being filled with him.

“stay still, i need a photo to look at so i can draw it later.”

SHIGETA HARUA

harua would definitely do it if you begged, he’s into that shit, he wants you to beg him to fill you up with his babies and he’ll do it just as you asked. if i’m being honest he’d be a guy into the slightly rougher sex tbh.

“feels so good, hm?”

TAKAYMA RIKI

LITTLE SHIT. ahem, i mean taki. yeah he’s breeding you full and making sure that stays in your cunt, whether he uses a plug or just your panties, he loves how pretty you look just filled with his cum, knowing it’s only him to fill you up with his babies, mayhaps a tiny size kink too …

“yeah? you like when i fuck my cum right back in you?”

HIROTA MAUS RIKI

little shit pt 3, i mean maki :3, ahhh he has a size kink and nobody can tell me otherwise. he’d so be turned on by how much smaller ( height wise btw ) you are compared to him, he’s gonna definitely breed the fuck outta you, making sure you’re in tears by the end of it.

“you can take more, baby, don’t be whiny now.”

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚ 📝 : みなさん、こんにちは！ 最近遅くてごめんなさい！ もうすぐ高速アップロードに戻ります。 | Hello everyone, Hope you all are enjoying my posts! Sorry for being so slow lately! I'll be back to fast uploads soon.

[silverynight]

Midoriya-sensei's boyfriend

By the time Izuku starts working at the UA as a teacher, Katsuki finds an apartment he doesn't hate and decides to rent it.

"You have to come and see it too," Katsuki insists, already pulling him by the sleeve.

Part of Izuku can believe they're actually friends now; Katsuki is very kind and gentle towards him nowadays even.

He's still has an explosive personality, and sometimes he yells at his own fans or growls at them, but he's way softer around Izuku. The war certainly did affect them both, and when it came to Katsuki, that meant he learned a few lessons thanks to it.

Izuku knows he was always a good person to begin with, but he has the feeling he often hid his true self behind all that anger, so he's glad Katsuki feels comfortable enough to show this kind side of his in front of Izuku.

As they leave Izuku's tiny room (he can only afford to rent a room, but he has gotten used to it) UA's youngest teacher tries not to blush as soon as he sees the bike.

A couple of weeks ago, Katsuki bought a bike with his pro hero salary, making something inside Izuku change.

It's difficult to ignore how attractive Katsuki has gotten lately; the training and months fighting villain has helped him grow even taller and stronger.

Izuku still goes to the gym because even if he doesn't have OFA anymore, he wants to stay fit, even though he's just a teacher now.

However, his shoulders are not as broad as Katsuki's and he certainly hasn't gotten any taller since he was in high-school.

It's not that it matters to him, but Izuku is not blind and he notices those changes in Katsuki, which sometimes makes it difficult to think of him as just a friend all the time.

And the bike did not help at all; pro hero Dynamight's fans are absolutely right, he looks hotter now.

However, Izuku has learned to ignore or at least push away those thoughts when it's necessary; he won't ruin his friendship with Katsuki just because part of him finds him attractive.

"Here, put this on," Katsuki hands Izuku a helmet; he bought two with that bike because he's determined to take Izuku anywhere with it.

Izuku sighs, takes the thing, and hops on the back of the motorbike and immediately puts his arms around his friend's waist.

Katsuki turns his head around with a satisfied smirk on his face before he puts his own helmet on.

It's not a big apartment by any means, but it looks cozy and even has an extra bedroom. Besides, Izuku can tell Katsuki is very happy to finally have a place on his own.

"I like it," he finally says. Since he's very distracted looking through the window, he doesn't notice Katsuki's relieved expression.

"Really? Fucking great!" He blurts out, grabbing Izuku's arm to get his attention. "Because I want you to move in with me."

Izuku is about to say that's not necessary, that Katsuki doesn't have to do that for him, but then he sees the spark in his eyes: he's actually excited about it, he truly wants Izuku to say 'yes'.

So Izuku does.

"Alright, Kacchan."

Katsuki pulls him into his arms, and Izuku feels tiny for a moment, but absolutely safe; he closes his eyes as a weird thought crosses his mind, that the pro hero doesn't want to let him go.

***

They get used to living together surprisingly fast; they get along and even though they disagree on a few things, it's nothing that makes them argue that much. They have known each other most of their lives and have a strong friendship now, which makes living together easier.

Their schedules don't match, mostly because as a pro hero, Katsuki has to take night patrols or go on missions that sometimes last a few days, but he takes Izuku to the UA or picks him up whenever he can.

Katsuki also seems to enjoy finding Izuku in their apartment when he comes exhausted from work, judging by the way his eyes shine and he smiles whenever he hears Izuku's voice welcome him home.

He often pulls Izuku in his arms and nuzzles against his cheek (who would've thought Katsuki would become so physically affectionate?) before heading towards the bathroom to take a shower.

He also helps Izuku with his tie; Izuku is not as bad at it as he was when he was a student, but Katsuki knows how to tie to perfection.

"I promise I'll learn to do it better myself!" Izuku says, chuckling nervously. "So you don't have to–"

"It's okay, Izuku," Katsuki cuts him off, without looking away from the teacher's tie, eyes glimmering as a soft, almost fond smile, quirks the corner of his lips up: "I can do this forever."

He chuckles because he knows the pro hero is only joking, but his words make Izuku's heart beat a little bit faster.

"All done. Now let's take you to the UA."

UA's students have gotten used to pro hero Dynamight's presence at this point; he does pay a few visits and helps with some hero training every now and then, but the real reason is that they often see him dropping Izuku off.

The teacher knows his students like to watch the moment that happens, which is why he tries to say goodbye to the pro hero quickly and rush inside.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Katsuki huffs, taking him helmet off, frowning at Izuku.

"I don't think so," the green haired teacher mumbles, trying not to blush. He knows exactly what Katsuki is talking about. "Look, I have my backpack with me!"

This time, Katsuki growls.

Izuku smiles at him, flustered, before he takes a few steps closer and kisses the pro hero's cheek.

Katsuki's shoulders relax and he even grins back at the teacher, mood shifting immediately.

This is actually Izuku's fault; the first time his friend dropped him off, he was so grateful he didn't think properly and gave him a kiss on the cheek before rushing inside the UA.

And now Katsuki gets grumpy when Izuku doesn't give him his kiss on the cheek.

The problem is that the students watch and often get to the wrong conclusions.

"I only have one shift today so I'll be able to pick you up," the pro hero says, with a smirk. "Wait for me here."

"Alright, thanks, Kacchan!"

***

"Midoriya-sensei?"

"Yes?"

"Is pro hero Dynamight your boyfriend?"

Izuku wishes he didn't blush that often because it makes it look like he's lying. He gets those questions a lot, but hasn't gotten used to them.

"No."

"Are you dating a pro hero?"

"No."

"Is he your husband then?"

"No." Izuku holds himself back from covering his red face with both arms like he did in high-school when he was too flustered. "Ka–I mean, Dynamight-san and I are friends. There's nothing else to it."

Most of his students nod, and they don't ask again (that day at least) but none of them look like they believe him.

It doesn't help that sometimes, when Izuku forgets his bento box at home, Katsuki arrives at the UA in his hero suit with Izuku's bento.

Since he often does that when it's lunch time, they eat together in the teacher's break room.

Fortunately, that day none of that happens, but when it's time to leave, some of his students wait patiently for him because they know Dynamight is going to pick him up.

Izuku sighs and surrenders to his fate.

"Dynamight-san!" Some of them even wave excitedly at the pro hero in civilian clothes as he arrives in his bike and takes his helmet off.

"Hello, brats!" Katsuki smirks. "I really hope you didn't give my Izuku any trouble otherwise I'll blast your faces off!"

"Kacchan!" The teacher scolds him, even though he knows he's clearly joking. Izuku's students chuckle.

Before it gets worse, he rushes towards the pro hero, with his backpack in hand.

"Let's go," he says, trying to grab his own helmet, only for Katsuki to move it out of his reach.

"You have to pay for the ride upfront," the pro hero smirks playfully, prompting Izuku to blush. "You know the rules, nerd."

"Kacchan! My students are still watching!" He protests, slightly mortified.

"So what?"

Izuku sighs, telling himself that friends do this all the time.

"O-Okay," he sighs before giving Katsuki a kiss on the cheek. "Now let's go home."

The pro hero doesn't even try to hide the satisfied, smug grin on his face. He finally hands Izuku a helmet and puts his back on.

"How was your day, nerd?"

Now that they're back at their place, Izuku relaxes enough to tell Katsuki about something it'll surely make him laugh.

They set the table and start eating the katsudon Katsuki made for the two of them.

"You know, I heard the students talking in the hallway the other day. They said that since the receptionist knew I'm single, she'd try to make a 'move' and ask me out," Izuku chuckles. "Can you believe it? I mean, she's too pretty for someone like–"

He cuts himself off when he notices Katsuki's pissed expression. He looks a bit in pain too.

"Are you okay, Kacchan?"

"What if she asks you out?"

"She'd never..."

Katsuki narrows his eyes, effectively shutting him up again.

"She does like you," he growls. "I have noticed it too and I absolutely hate it."

Izuku gets slightly startled at the strong word.

"Do you like her too?"

The teacher shakes his head, prompting Katsuki's shoulders to relax a bit.

"I only see her as a coworker."

"Good," the pro hero nods, although there's clearly something that still bothers him because he doesn't touch his food again. He seems to be having an internal battle with himself before he mumbles. "Obviously, you can do whatever the fuck you want, but the truth is that I don't like the idea of you dating some extra."

The raw honesty in his words and eyes surprises Izuku and confuses him at the same time.

"I would never bring anyone here," he mumbles, realizing too late he's somehow saying the wrong thing. "That'd be really uncomfortable, besides... it's your apartment and–"

"No," Katsuki shakes his head, looking like he's trying to gather all the patience he has. He rises from his seat before taking a few steps forward and gently cradling Izuku's face in his hands. "I don't want you to date anyone... ever."

"But..."

"Date me instead. Give me a chance."

This time, Katsuki looks vulnerable, almost desperate.

"Kacchan..."

"I love you, Izuku. I have loved you for a long time," the pro hero mumbles, pressing his forehead against the teacher's. "And I'd like you to give me a chance to make you fall in love with me. I know I can–"

"I'm already in love with you, Kacchan!" Izuku cuts him off, feeling completely happy. Part of him thinks he's dreaming, but then he notices the pro hero is grinning and tearing up at the same time. "Are you okay?"

"I've never been better," he smiles before kissing Izuku on the lips.

Their dinner is forgotten as they kiss and stumble their way towards Katsuki's bedroom.

It's the first time Izuku sleeps in the pro hero's bed, although he doesn't get that much sleep that night.

He wakes up feeling happily tired; Katsuki presses a few kisses to his shoulders and back, always looking for freckles, and they both stay in bed a little longer before taking a shower together.

This time, after Izuku hops off the bike he gives Katsuki a kiss on the lips as a goodbye.

"I'll see you tonight," the pro hero grins from ear to ear as if he's the lucky one for having Izuku as his partner.

"See you, Kacchan!"

***

"Midoriya-sensei. Is Dynamight-san your boyfriend?"

Izuku chuckles. Glad Aizawa is not around to see it because he knows he shouldn't be talking about his private life with his students, but it's been a couple of months since he moved in Katsuki's bedroom and he's absolutely happy he can't hide it.

"No. He's my fiancé."

Katsuki is actually glad when Izuku informs his his students know about their engagement because it means he can mention it every opportunity he gets now.

Dynamight's interviews are not the same after that; he used to hate those but now he approaches the reporters gladly because he wants everyone to know Midoriya Izuku is taken.

Izuku finds it endearing.

***

Patreon

[vrystalius]

Trick or treat..?

I suppose it’s too late for that huhu😭 but may I please have your take on Sanemi taking care of a drunk s/o after a (halloween?) party?

Sanemi taking care of his drunk partner

He knew attending Tengen’s birthday part was a mistake. Sanemi never wanted to come in the first place!

Pairing: Sanemi x gn!reader

Again, this absolutely beautiful banner was made by @erexart !! Please, please go check her out! She makes fanarts (remember boxer Sanemi?) and art including her ocs and characters like Kyojuro and Sanemi— I love her comics so much, they are so so cute and I love imagining my own oc in her place XD Anyways, thank you so much for requesting and making this beautiful banner for this fic!

“Sanemiiii, you’re soo serious… lighten uppp, this a party, yeah?”

“Party’s over.”

Sanemi was steadily helping you to lean against his shoulder while his arms were wrapped beneath yours, trying to drag you down the streets, back to your home. He doesn’t step into the role of a caretaker often, but after watching you down drinks after drinks alongside the birthday-boy Uzui, he was already mentally preparing himself to finally pay you back for all the times you took care of him, physically and mentally. It’s the least he could do for you in his eyes, taking care of you while you are drunk. He had already stayed near you all evening, making sure that you don’t seriously overdo it and end up with alcohol poisoning, silently glaring at Tengen for again pouring you another drink. Sanemi was never fond of alcohol drinks and decided to stick to his green tea. Someone has to stay sober and make sure everyone is being responsible, right?

By the time you were stumbling away from the former sound hashira’s mansion, your husband steadied you carefully while you kept trying to wiggle out of his grasp, assuring him that you can totally walk on your own. Dragging you home and making sure that you don’t trip or decide that running off is a suitable option for you as well. You didn’t notice how Sanemi’s grip tightened on you as you complained about going home so soon, wanting to stay a little longer at the birthday party to celebrate more. By the time you two arrived back home, it was way past midnight. Your husband guided you to sit down while he prepared a small meal for you, scolding you to drink the glass of water he handed you slowly but surely, threatingly pointing his wooden spoon at you while standing by the stove.

“You’re so mean to meee! You’re lucky I like your pretty face.”

“Mhm, just drink your damn water.”

It’s a little ironic to him how Sanemi usually is spending his nights beating the shit out of demons, dragging himself home and almost falling asleep in the shower while you scrub his bloody back. Sometimes, despite how exhausted and how much you want to sleep right now, you still drag yourself to the kitchen and prepare a small meal for him so that he doesn’t have to go to bed hungry. You know that your husband would be too exhausted to make something himself, preferring to sleep. Despite how annoyed and pissed he seems with you right now because of how drunk you are, Sanemi still gladly takes care of you.

He always felt like he was taking more than he was giving in your relationship, taking your affections for granted, barely having any time for you due to his hashira duties and never really acknowledging how much you are doing for him. While holding the glass of water to your lips you still haven’t finished, his fingers carefully brushing over your rosy cheeks as a way to gently coax you into finally drinking at least a little bit of water. The quick meal he whipped up wasn’t anything too fancy, Sanemi feeding you with chopsticks while you lazy lean back against the chair, ready to crash into bed and hibernate until the late afternoon. Now you’re thankful for Sanemi dragging you home so early.

A shower he was planning on forcing you to take has to wait until later, you’re basically half asleep in your chair by the time he finished feeding you. Carrying you to bed was much easier than dragging you away from Tengen’s estate, your body basically limp in his arms while he carried you to bed. Your arms were lazily wrapped around his neck, playing a little with the hair on the back of his head while dreamily staring at your husband’s handsome face. My, was he always this hot? Or is the way Sanemi is removing your sweaty clothes just really turning you on? Before you could even open your mouth, your husband carefully helped you lay down properly onto your mattress, tucking you in with the cosiest sheets he could find. You grinned at him.

“What’re ya staring at?”

“The hottest man in the whole world.”

You relaxed under his touch as he ran his thick fingers through your hairstrands, detangling your hair a little while his eyes glossed over your features. Sanemi gave you a small hum of acknowledgement before leaning down to you, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. A small giggle escaped your lips as you weakly tried pulling the warm body of your husband closer for a cuddle. He didn’t even try to protest despite him still being dressed in his street clothes.

“I gotta change, bug.”

“Mh, no. Dooooon’t caaaree.”

Sanemi groaned in annoyance but never made an attempt to move away or escape your grasp. The tension in his body slowly began to disappear the longer your body pressed against his. He lazily kicked his shoes off and slipped beneath the sheets, giving up on fighting against your drunk stubbornness.

“Just sleep, will ya?”

“As long as you stay here.”

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he began to smile slightly. He moved closer to you, burying his face into your warm neck, closing his eyes in exhaustion.

“I ain’t going nowhere, promise.”

💠

I always feel so incredibly honoured when I receive art for my fics— when I first started posting on tumblr, I set some small goals for me to archive while being active on here: get over 100 followers, get a post to 1.000 interactions, get requests and get my favourite authors to like my works— one of those goals was to receive fanart or art for my works, and the first time erexart offered to make a banner for one of my posts, I can’t describe how happy I felt XD Once I gathered enough (like a goblin), I’ll make a small post collecting every piece of media I received from others— may it be art from you guys or own little fan-works or whatever, I always feel incredibly honoured to receive anything.

I apologise if this may sound desperate or demanding, I just feel like I don’t express my appreciation for you guys enough XD

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!!

Take care of yourselves <3

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

♡ extra #3 : fire vs feline ♡

in which : your boyfriend battles for your affection with an unknown rival

a/n : and its back after decades !!! tysm to @sorrowfulrosebud for this suggestion and im sooo sorry it took me so long to get to this next part :(( still, i like this a lot and i hope yall did too ! aaaghhh dragon katsu i missed you tehehe MUAH MAUH

fluff n cats !!, cooking but nothing bad but like you slap katsukis ass once lolololol

it's 8:45 pm, and you're still not back from work.

you usually tell katsuki when you're running late before hand, or you call him from work to warn him. it makes him grumpy, sure. but he's at least glad you let him know.

but tonight you didn't and it makes him even grumpier.

at this point he's thinking about heading out and finding you himself. he picks you up from work sometimes, but you don't like it because apparently he 'mean mugs your coworkers.' your words not his. he looks out of the window, the rain is beating down against them. it's pouring outside, he frowns.

maybe, you're running a little late at work and you just forgot to warn him. sure, it happens. and you are an idiot (but you're his idiot). but..there's a small, little doubt buzzing around in his head like a fly. and it annoys him.

what if something happened to you ? just the thought makes his whole body buzz in anger.

fuck it. he practically jumps up from the couch and prepares to put his shoes on when he hears knocking on the door. katsuki's ears perk up and he's zooming to the door, faintly catching your scent. he hears the jingling of what he knows are your keys but he's already faster than you. you're absolutely soaked, holding onto a grocery bag and cradling your work blazer to your chest. katsuki's just about to scold you, when he sees something..furry in your blazer ?

you don't respond when he asks you anything and push past him. he stays frozen by your front entrance while you run around your apartment until you stay in your room. and he swears he could hear you talking. he's jumps slightly when he hears you call for him.

immediately he barges into your bedroom, and despite being soaked down to the bone your all smiles. beckoning him over to you, his eyebrows furrow.

"what the fuck are-"

"shh, shh!!" you hurriedly press your finger over your lips, beckoning him over to the blanket in front of you. he holds back what he wants to say and the closer he gets the more the furry little mass comes into view.

"look at him, isn't he cute ?!" you whisper yell, cooing softly when the little animal meows at you.

a cat.

he's not completely unfamiliar with them. he sees them sometimes while he's out on runs or doing the groceries. you always squeal loudly whenever you see them and rush to pet them. the one's he sees are usually fatter, bigger than this scrawny little thing.

"where'd you find this thing ?" he squats next to you, scowling as the little furry beast mewls, eyes squinted closed. you send him a look.

"i found him..in an alley all alone in the rain, i couldn't just leave him there !" you pout at him, katsuki squints at you despite his heart kicking in his chest at your cute expression "doesn't he look cute ?"

he looks back towards the little creature. it's nuzzling it's head against your hand you've got pressed to support its blanket dome. "it's small." he settles. you roll your eyes "he's a baby." you shoot back.

"is the shit you dumped in the living room for him ?" you look back at him like you'd been caught, eyes immediately darting back to the kitten. "it's just until i can find him a new home, he's in rough shape.." your eyes droop. one thing katsuki will never admit is that he truly admires your empathy, you seem so saddened about the frankly poor state of the little creature. you'll get sick if you stay in your wet clothes any longer yet all you focus on is chatting with the little kitten, baby talking back at it.

it does look pitiful, maybe because of it's fur sticking up every way because you had just dried it off, or maybe its still shivering little form curling up in the blankets. katsuki doesn't care about anything or anyone in the human realm except for you, but his heart squeezes just a bit at the tiny sounds the kitten releases. he doesn't think he could get used to how small every creature is here. even what you qualify as a big dog here doesn't even come close to what he'd classify as one.

tentatively, he reaches one big finger towards the kitten. it looks like it could fit in his whole palm. " fuck, it really is small."

his words earn him a giggle, your eyes soften as you see them both interacting "what, you finally realised ?" he scoffs, his eyes not leaving the cat as it curls its head towards his finger, obviously attracted to his warmth. you can't blame him. "aw, he likes you !" you squeal. katsuki only huffs, his nose scrunches up at your words. " it wouldn't survive a day back where i'm from, too small and weak."

"don't be mean," you reach to pinch his cheek, and he ducks away from you with a growl. he slowly pulls his finger away from the cat to knock his forehead against yours, you grumble and he smirks, of course. ever the little shit.

"go shower, yer fuckin' soaked. gonna catch a cold." he grabs you by your shoulders to walk you out of the room despite your protests of wanting to watch over the kitten. "i got it." is all he says, pushing you out the door. you sigh, shaking your head, a smile grows on your face. you forgot to get a change of clothes, but you know katsuki will get some for you later, and you hurriedly walk over to the shower. as much as you want to spend time with a cute kitty and your dragon man you're more than happy to get out of these cold clothes.

when you're done showering, you've changed into the fresh clothes that katsuki had indeed dropped in while you were showering (not before scolding your dumbass for forgetting, of course). you're met with the sweetest sight. your boyfriend holding the little bundle of blankets in his arms while he's watching tv. you try your best to squeal quietly so as not the startle the kitten. you snatch your phone from your bedroom to take a picture, your boyfriend growls lowly at you, it seems like he doesn't want to startle the kitten either. you decide to use this to your advantage.

"shh, shh don't scare him !" you smirk. the shifter glowers at you.

"cut that shit out." he grits out.

"what happened while i was gone, katsu ?" you coo. you don't know if it's the camera on him, the petname or your tone of voice that has pink blend onto his ears, but it makes the sight that much cuter. you can't help but giggle.

"fuckin' thing didn't want me to leave, kept whining." he explains.

"i mean, you are warm." you shrug, he is not happy with your answer. clearly. because he growls again. "what am i, a damn heater ?!" you both hold your breaths when the tiny ball of fur yawns, but doesn't wake up and readjusts in katsuki's lap. you let out a sigh of relief while the blonde huffs, relaxing just a bit, he scoffs to himself.

"you gonna keep standing there or are you gonna bring your ass over here ?"

"i'm thinkin' about just staying here, i'm really liking this view." you giggle at his eye roll, tucking your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants and slowly making your way onto the couch. you manage to cuddle up next to katsuki without disrupting the cat and sigh happily when he bumps his nose into your hair. a deep rumble comes from his chest that resembles a cat's purr and it makes you giggle. you decide not to comment on it lest katsuki feels insulted for being compared to something so small.

the groceries you'd made last minute for the cat have been tucked away on the kitchen counter and you smile, kissing your dragon man's chin. who chuffs happily despite not looking away from the tv. you close your eyes, happy that your boyfriend was okay with the kitten staying for a while.

you've fallen asleep after a while, he knew it was coming, but katsuki knows it'll be a bit annoying to have to tuck you into bed while also not waking up the tiny little creature. he sighs, running his nose to your eyebrows. you and your stupid empathy..

but in the time you took to shower. the clingy little feline managed to make katsuki's heart squeeze just a bit, it shouldn't flatter itself though. he can it admit that like this, fully dry, quiet and asleep. it doesn't look all bad. dare he say kind of cute.

the worry from earlier finally catches up to him and he knows he should just bring you all to bed, but he can't be bothered to wake you up right now. besides, he might wake both you and the cat up. he'll only close his eyes for a bit and wake up a bit later.

before he falls asleep, katsuki can admit that that's major bullshit.

nevermind. forget anything positive he said before. katsuki hates this mangy fucking cat.

it's only been two days. two. days. and the pest (or tofu, miso, mochi and every other food related name your dumbass uses as a place holder name) thinks it's just the king of the house now. the bastard thinks he's earned the right to prance around like he owns the place just because his face isn't unbearable to look at, fuckin' bastard.

he's hyper, he whines when you don't let him sleep in the bed with you, so katsuki's earned himself a scratch on his cheek from the mangy demon deciding to attack his face first thing in the morning. he's bossy and greedy, and so loud. and those god forsaken "zoomies" drive him up a wall. especially when he wants katsuki's food knowing damn well he's got a bowl of perfectly good cat suited food waiting for him. you claim he's just a chattier cat and it's so annoying. the cat loves to act like it wasn't sent from hell just to torture katsuki when you're around. curling up to you and meowing at you, and you meow right back like you're having a riveting conversation ( if he didn't hate the damn thing so much he'd think it was cute..and he still kinda does unfortunately..)

what probably pisses him off the most though is that you spoil the little furball to the ends of the earth.

and yeah, sure, he's a baby. he needs to be nurtured and taken care of. whatever, big. fucking. deal. katsuki's been a baby before and he's sure he wasn't this insufferable..maybe a bit--but not that much !

you squeal oh so loud when the vile creature does literally anything, swooning when he purrs as you scratch behind his ears. when he does a big stretch, when he yawns, when he eats, when he breathes. you're on him, and it pisses him the fuck off.

and, no. it's not because you spend way more time with the cat you've known for two days than your own mate. it's definitely not because you cuddle and fall asleep with the cat, it's not even because you coo at tofu/miso/mochi/the fucking demon like he's just the most precious thing the world. not because you giggle and smile at him, and he's not mad because you're only supposed to with him. at all.

...okay so maybe he was a little mad about it, so what ?! dragons are naturally possessive creatures. and no matter what it is, katsuki doesn't like it when it takes your attention from him for too long. you wouldn't get it, fuck you.

so here he is, shivering to death while you're cuddled up with your cat from hell. he hears the stray purr loudly, like he's taunting him. he scowls.

katsuki's actively sitting as far away from you on the couch as possible. which you find weird because you'd brought out you're cuddle blanket, although with katsuki around every blanket is the cuddle blanket.

his arms are crossed and he scowls at the movie he'd picked out. immediately you could tell something was wrong, your katsuki senses tingle. you stop playing around with tofu as you call out for him. katsuki offers you a side glance and a side glare at the kitty and a grunt in response.

you'd sensed this animosity between him and miso since the day he'd woken up with a loud scream because the stray had decided to pounce on him. a pretty rude awakening you can admit, and katsuki had been grumpy the entire morning until you'd given him a get better kiss and a little band aid. ever since then you'd catch him and mochi having staring matches and you could feel the tension in the air, like static crackling.

and you could in fact feel the burning against your back of what he probably thought was his subtle glances at you and the kitty when you'd play or so much as interacted with it. but c'mon, who could blame you ?! he was the cutest cat ever !

but you should've known with your boyfriends clingy streak, and his dramatic ways, this wasn't bound to end well.

"come sit next to me, baby," you coo, pouting your lips. you know the offer is tempting to him, but your boyfriend is nothing if not dramatic, he scoffs at you.

"'m not sitting nowhere near that fucking demon." he sasses, you snort. "mochi is harmless, you just need to learn to get along."

he turns to you, insulted "i was fine with the little beast until he decided to wage war on me !"

"i'm sure he didn't mean to scratch you, he was just excited !"

"he fucking drew blood ?! he wants me dead !" he scoffs, before adding a challenging "good luck with that." scoffing as the kitty stays curled up next to you. you can't help but snort.

"he's a baby, suki."

"so ? you're just saying that 'cus he's attached to your hip. the damn yowler's even tryin' ta steal my mate from me." you laugh then, startling tofu and making katsuki roll his eyes. you slowly unwrap yourself from the blanket, wrapping it around tofu who blinks at you. you crawl over to your boyfriend, placing your head in his lap. you smile up at him as he scowls down at you, huffing hard.

you put your palms on his warm cheeks, his eyebrows furrow harder as you coo at him "my dragon man's feeling a little left out isn't he ?feeling a little touch starved ?" you tease, rubbing at his cheeks.

katsuki growls at you, his eyes droop just a bit at your touch. "you're fuckin' crazy. i hate you." you laugh hard, hands dropping from his face. he leans down to huff in your face, chest rumbling as you blow in his face as payback. he presses his palm to your face complaining that 'your breath stinks', having trouble hiding his smirk.

you lean up just enough to press your nose to his like he always does for you, his eyes widen "dummy.." he mutters, pink taking over his ears. he presses his nose to yours affectionately and kisses your lips roughly.

" i'm your mate, yeah ? you don't have to worry about anything. miso just needs to be taken care of." you reassure. katsuki squints at you, looking away again with a pout. "i know that. and i wasn't worried."

"yeah ?"

"yeah." he huffs, knocking his forehead to yours "stop calling him that name, it's stupid."

you scoff, revolted "it's adorable !"

"it's stupid." he reiterates "you can't even settle on one."

" shush," you take the opportunity to scratch at the spot behind his horn. watching as he melts, chuffing happily into your neck. you smile to yourself, not worried your ass.

you feel his strong arms wrap around you as best he can in your position, trying to keep you away from a certain kitty. unfortunately, he seems to forget how little the feline is as it manages to squeeze itself right in his arms. katsuki's head flies up and you jump.

"who the fuck do you think you are, hah ?! think you can just get comfy on me after drawing first blood ?!" miso is unbothered, lifting his head up to yawn at your boyfriend causing you to snort. your dragon man doesn't find it the least bit funny though "oooh, you're just soo comfy, huh ?" he turns to you "see ? i swear he wants to fuckin' fight me."

you laugh again, placing your hand against his back and rubbing slowly, reaching for the cat with your other hand but katsuki intercepts it, showing it off to him and taunting him about how you were his mate like a child. you shake your head affectionately, having two boys fight over your affection like this was not something you expected to happen in your lifetime.

you wake up the next morning a little later than usual, free of work, and your welcomed with a lovely surprise. your dragon boyfriend cooking you breakfast, covered only by his kiss the cook apron and with a little fur ball perched on his shoulder. which could be a little dangerous since they're both perched right above the stove, but they both look pretty comfy.

"you gotta wait thirty more seconds before you flip the pancakes. if you flip 'em even a second before or after they'll be fucked, got it ?" the kitten meows in response and katsuki grunts, turning back to his food. you pad over to the kitchen, phone in hand, katsuki glares at the sound of a camera shutter, not being able to turn fully with miso on his shoulder. "what the fuck are you doing ?"

"wondering when you guys got so chummy !" you giggle, getting closer knowing he can't do anything to shoo you away. katsuki grumbles but focuses back on his food to flip his waffles. "what happened ?"

"we talked it out, bastard isn't as bad as i thought, i guess."

you tuck your phone away to press a kiss to his cheek and say hi to miso. you don't know what he means by talked it out, but you're glad they ended up settling their..differences.

"fenrir said he doesn't like the names you picked out for him either." your boyfriend adds after a pause, he smirks when you freeze.

you're flabbergasted when you register his words, "he didn't tell you that, you liar ! and who the hell is fenrir ?!" katsuki shrugs at the shoulder the cat is perched on, and miso/mochi/ tofu/ fenrir ?? meows like you'd called him for attendance. he does seem to like it, katsuki smirks even wider.

"you named him fenrir ?!"

"he likes it." is all katsuki offers you, obviously proud. you shake your head and you can't help but laugh "you're unbelievable." you giggle, and katsuki rolls his eyes with a smirk. telling you to go brush your teeth because you're not getting anything he made with nasty breath. you smack his ass as revenge and run off. before he can get his hands on you, not that he could. you hear him complaining to fenrir about how annoying you are. you hear a meow and a chuckle.

your new cat and your dragon boyfriend are talking shit about you, but at least they're getting along.

THEHEHEHE THE RETURN !!!! iLOOVEED this i rlly hope yall enjoyed, should we keep fenrir as a pet throughout the series ? supposedly reader n katsu r gonna find a new place for him, but he's kinda growing on me ! lmk !!

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( @doofusarena @queenpiranhadon @rosemarygalaxy @slashersl0t @andysdrafts @berryvioo @erenstitanweave @chuugarettes @stardyedkatsuki @atinytiredpanromantic @zaiban2989 @annepamgkrth @mxpl3s-castle

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ lolol hello hello o/ hope you are doing good!!

So this masterpiece of a game has been invading my mind with ZERO chill lately which directly translated to me coming up with a TON of questions orz I really didn't realize how many I ended up compiling lol

If you don't feel like answering this many please feel absolutely free to ignore this ask or only answer the ones you like the most, the last thing I want is for you to feel overwhelmed! ^^

ALRIGHT LET'S-A GO

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™?

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol

-does he know how to give massages? :00

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name?

(I am not sure if this⬇️ questions falls under character deaths, if it does I really apologize and absolutely feel free to ignore it ^^)

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl)

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100%

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao

ALRIGHT THATS ALL IM SO SORRY FOR ASKING SO MUCH THE REN BRAINROT HOURS ARE SO REAL IM LOSING BRAINCELLS orz Remember to take care of yourself drink water and take breaks!! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

(Also sorry if some phrases don't make sense, english isn't my first language as I am 🤌 lolol)

✦゜ANSWERED: Under da cut because this got long >:3

-do Rendacted's memories remain intact when he resets the day or do his wipe too with everyone else's? Also is there an in-universe answer for why he has these glitchy powers or is he just Built Different™? Ren's memories remain intact!! I mean... He remembers each time you get a bad end and sometimes says something different... >:3 There is also an in-universe reason as to why he has his abilities — I won't spoil anything, but his real name (along with River's and one other character) have a reeeeally big tell. But what this tell is is for me to know and you to find out >:3

-if angel made it VERY clear that they would be mad asf and prolly even start hating and leave Ren/[REDACTED] if he were to hurt their friends(or killing people bc this man needs to chill fr), would he listen to them? Bc I know that if he touches Violet, Elanor, Kiara or god forbid Moth I'm personally deleting his kneecaps 🥰 Ren (and by extension [REDACTED]) knows not to harm anyone if he knows you won't like it — and even then — he won't actively show that murderous side of him in the first place. To Angel, Ren is just a timid, normal guy.

-since it seems to me that Ren/[REDACTED] is only kinda meh at cooking I was wondering if he actually made the not burnt pancakes in day 3 or if he had some store bought ones that he passed off as his own lol Ren is actually good at cooking, he's just a bit out of touch since he doesn't normally cook for himself! It's normally microwave meals or takeout for him... ^^; And yes, Ren did burn and burn the pancakes in Day 3 — he was distracted by something on his phone :3

Bonus cut Day 3 content: I took out the scene where Ren started to profusely apologise for burning the pancake because he often had to cook when he was younger. Given the dynamic of his family and the environment he grew up in, Ren didn't have much room to make mistakes ;n; I cut this scene out because I felt bad ksgskd So y'all get to have flustered, happy Ren instead!!

-does he know how to give massages? :00 If that was one of Angel's interests or desires, then sure!! ^^

-during day 1, how did Ren come up with a book on the local flora?? It seems like such a random topic to pick when put on the spot without already having a genuine interest in it lmao Someone else likes flora too, and it sure would be funny if Ren (eventually) starts to mimic certain traits and interests of the person you have the highest affinity/relationship points with in order to make himself look more appealing… >:3c

-if I understood correctly Maple should be Jae's dog right?? Did you have a specific breed or age in mind when creating her? I got curious because in my head she automatically popped up as a young australian shepherd to match with Jae's hyperactive dumbass energy lol❀⸜(˶´ ˘ `˶)⸝❀ It was mentioned in Jae's lore post (I'll link it here once I find it), but Maple is a Labrador! (Leon would be Jae's Australian Shepherd hehe) In my mind, Maple is only 2 or 3 years old, but that wouldn't really fit the official timeframe... ^^; Jae adopted Maple during high school so he wouldn't feel lonely at home, and it's been over 6+ years since then.... hgdshjg

-staying on the dog topic lol, in day 1 when angel gets up from the couch to get Ren the inflatable mattress(iirc) and he follows right behind them i immediately thought he acted like a puppy lmao. So would he mind being called 'puppy' as a pet name? Angel affectionately calls Ren a puppy during the scene in Day 1 where they meet up after work, so that nickname definitely could work!

-from an ask from last year it seems [REDACTED] would ultimately kill angel if there was ultimately not way to enter in their life?? Gotta say I was very taken aback by this, would this still be the case after a year of building more to his character? (Ok I went back to check the ask again but I can't for the life of me find it anymore maybe I dreamt it up idk😭😭 im really sorry if that is the case jdkslajdl) aaa I think you might be mistaking that ask for something else? ;v; [REDACTED] would NEVER harm Angel in any capacity, and they're a very patient person. Even if it took decades for Angel to fall in love with him, they'll wait.

-uuhh I know there is already a lot in this ask(im seriously sorry orz), but I was wondering if we will eventually get an SFW alphabet for Ren/[REDACTED] for the folks who don't care about the nasty 👉👈 You're fine!! And I'm open to doing that! I'll add it to my list hehe

-THIS IS THE LAST THING I PROMISE 👹 will there be a guide to get all the endings? I'm not sure if there is one already and in that case I missed it 100% I've shared a spreadsheet that lists all the available choices, the points you earn from each of them, and the endings you can get — however it's only available on Discord and I don't really want to share it outside of the server and potentially put it in the hands of minors. Sorry!!

Also I find it ironic how the fandom is trying to find out every single aspect of Ren/[REDACTED]'s character the same way he must do with angel lmao Hehe >:3 There's a loooot of lore that won't ever be mentioned in the game (since it doesn't seem fitting/I don't see a reason to), so I'm happy to provide it here!

[tinytennisskirt]

Rematch

ex situationship patrick x reader

summary: you and patrick used to be the epitome of casual. aside from a few things... he was cheating on his girlfriend with you and all you could do from then on was hate him. eight years later, you work together. you're forced to share transportation and stay at the same hotels. The close proximity isn't much good for two people who have gotten by on avoidance. And it only becomes harder to avoid certain words. and certain actions.

warnings: smut! mentions of sex, unprotected sex. enemies to lovers- hateful words, slight miscommunication (through hating so much), a lot of swearing. somewhat edited...

“You’re hitting on my sister?” You said, overhearing him as you approached the outside gate of the tennis court. You walked over, knocking Patrick in the chest with your racket. That sly son of a bitch didn’t budge an inch. “You know she’s only nineteen? And she’s a fucking lesbian you absolute idiot.” You followed up. He just grinned. 

“I didn’t know she was any of those things,” he shrugged, hands up in surrender. “You don’t look alike. She’s actually pretty.” 

You rolled your eyes. You knew he didn’t mean what he said but still said it. “Fuck you, Zweig.”

“You used to like that, you know,” he said, grin widening to something evil. You didn’t know how he could stand in front of you and say the stupid shit he was saying, seemingly unabashed. 

“That’s enough,” your sister said to both you and him. Your racket didn’t waiver from the place it rested against his chest. You kept that warning in your eyes. “Y/N, he didn’t know. And he wasn’t inappropriate. He just said my swing was good with a weird tone.” 

“Weird tone?” Patrick repeated.

You smiled just a bit at that. “It’s better than good. You know- you are the same guy you were eight years ago somehow. Grow up and go away, Zweig,” you said, glaring at Patrick. And to think you were the sweet one in your family. It was all fun and tennis until Patrick was around. He wasn’t exactly an ex, but someone who frequented the bed in your dorm room eight years ago at Stanford. He was a drug of choice, a situational type of person who when visiting his friend Art Donaldson, would also visit you, a few dorms down. 

It was hot. He’d be sneaking around with you at parties, finding unoccupied rooms to kiss you with a force that usually winded you, wide hands on your waist, holding you close against a wall, a door, and sometimes the floor. If he saw you in the cafeteria all it took was a glance at you to communicate exactly which stall in the bathroom to meet him in while he excused himself from Art and Tashi Duncan. He’d be in your room late at night making you finish in three different ways and walking back to his friend’s room at four in the morning. 

Sometimes you’d make out for hours on end with only touching, but all of it, every action, every trace of his finger, every word was all traced with lust. Sometimes you swore he liked you, lingering after you both had finished, still grazing his hands over the curve of your hip, kissing your forehead, tucking your hair behind your ear… It was supposed to be casual, you reminded yourself. He was too attached. 

The funny thing was, you’d been in Stanford tennis too, a hometown prodigy with a father successful in the tennis world. Tashi called nepotism and you never got along, but you and Tashi never hated each other more when she found out you were fucking her boyfriend. If you had known you wouldn’t have been doing it, but the damage was done and there was no apology for a girl who fucked her knee up after a big fight with Patrick. No apology could include the extent of how sorry you were without telling her what for. 

And you met with Patrick just to yell at him. He was a shitty person with shitty morals and you made sure he knew that. And even in all the yelling, you still fucked him in your car. But that was the last time. The second your lips disconnected for the last time, it was supposed to be the last time you spoke to him. And it was simple. “Fuck you. You’re an asshole, I never want to see you again.” His eyebrows furrowed as you collected your clothes and disappeared back home. 

It went well, not seeing him again. He stopped visiting his friend who had sided with Tashi, he had no reason to come around. But he picked up a job coaching in the area you moved to seven years later. Your boss was a powerful woman and the pay was amazing, so Patrick became your coworker and you put up with that. And it was awful, but you scheduled yourself away from him and your paths only crossed at meetings and maybe once every few months, but it was still too much. You made do with the few words you had to give him, but other than that you stayed far away, and rightfully so. The only conversations you’d had in all of the year you’d been around him again were easy jabs, quips, argumentative things. But for the sake of your job, it didn’t go farther than easy insults. You still hated him for what he did, for how he used you when he was seeing Tashi. For how he treated you when he had a whole girlfriend waiting for him after hours. You weren’t proud of what you did and he was just a living reminder of something that haunted you. 

He was this adult douchebag-type now- you swore you saw him with two different women at the cafe you passed on your way to work. You could mind your business, but it was fucked to know he hadn’t changed. Eight years and no change. So yeah, Patrick talking to your sister, granted- step-sister, was something you had to nip in the bud. 

Patrick nodded, his jaw tensing. “Your sister here is my student today.” He said, gesturing to the split court. Sometimes split courts happened, but you’d only been paired with him on one once. “The list here says so.” He uncrumpled a piece of paper from his pocket and pointed at her name. 

“So you’ll switch me. Easy,” You stated, trying all you could not to hit him with another insult. Your sister picked up her rackets, moving to your side so Patrick didn’t have a say. It was your turn to smile. “You’re lucky I don’t fucking report you.” You added. 

“You’d miss having me around too much, I don’t think you have it in you,” He replied. 

You narrowed your eyes, “Get a grip.” You said, turning away from him. You heard his low chuckle as he called your student over. You rubbed your face while you walked to the other side, trying to wipe away the feeling you’d lost brain cells just talking to him. This was why you didn’t engage with him- it never went well. “Sorry.” You apologized to your sister. 

“It’s fine, honestly. He’s such a dick.” 

“I know,” you sighed. “I’m unfortunately cursed with knowing when Patrick has the intention to flirt. He’s fucking obvious.” You said, grabbing a ball. 

Your sister laughed. “He was coming on a little weird. To be fair I think he thought I was some random girl outside the court. But this is why I don’t date men.” 

You were glad you didn’t have to see him for another two months. You continued to train your sister as the other girls you were training had all fallen off. Your company made sure to only train the most competitive of girls and that was your sister for sure. She was amazing- not better than you- but amazing. When the time came for another Junior US Open, she was the perfect candidate for it. Your company, your boss, she usually sent two, booked them and their trainer a room at an amazing nearby hotel, paid for travel and food and gave a spending bonus for the hard work and you were hoping to god that it was your sister. You’d lost the Junior US Open to a twisted ankle- and Tashi Duncan and it would be amazing to see your sister go and win. 

She had worked so hard for it. And finally, your boss called all the trainers in for a meeting. There were ten of you, some with two students, most with only one, but you all sat in the fluorescent-lit room in front of the projector that projected the logo of the company on the white wall. Your boss thanked you all for coming and congratulated all of you on all your amazing seasons and work coaching the students. Talking about the best of the best. Eventually came to the portion where she would name the two students who were going to the open, the two that were going on the trip. 

And she said your sister's name. Your chest filled with excitement and happiness and pride and obviously you had to contain it. You were going back to the Junior US Open, it was an amazing way to get her name out there as a player and make everything all worthwhile. You started thinking up creative ways to tell her, thinking about the company limo on the way up, thinking about how to increase training all crossing your mind. “-And Simon Abernathy.” She added. For the boy's division. His name was familiar. 

And it was no wonder. Patrick clapped once out of success and you felt your eye twitch just a bit. It was his student, it was Patrick’s student, which meant you’d be with him this entire trip. He would be one of the only people you knew out that way- and it would be just him, you, and your students. There was only one word and it slipped out of your mouth quietly enough to go unnoticed. “Fuck.” You avoided Patrick’s gaze, but you just knew he had that big stupid grin on his face. 

When the car pulled up outside of your apartment, you insisted on putting your own bag in the trunk. It was just how you were. You were first to be picked up and it was always fun to be in a limo. A road trip was still a road trip, two days to be specific and it would have been something to look forward to if it wasn’t for him. Thank god you picked up your sister next, then Simon, then Patrick. You and your sister were far too engaged in your conversation to think about the boys on the other end. You talked about training, and game day, and you went over what it was like when you competed. 

The day passed by, book in hand, iPod on, and earbuds plugged in. You stopped once for lunch and another for gas but at the end of the night you were at a nice motel. Nothing like the motels you knew when you were in the Junior Open. In this motel, everything worked properly, smelled nice, and was actually clean. Patrick, unloading his bag for the night passed you yours and you said the only word you’d said to him all day- “Thanks.”

You and your sister hung out in your motel room, two-bed, talking about the day. She lay like a starfish on her bed, but she rolled over to face you as you pulled on your pajama shirt. “You never told me why you hate Patrick so much.” She said, eyes wide. You just groaned and rolled onto your back. “Come on. You obviously know each other from something.” 

“I will be so honest with you, I am too tired to get into it,” You said. “I just… ugh.” 

“It’s fine- like you don’t have to give me all the details, I just want to know why.” She replied, moving to sit on the edge of your bed. “You guys dated, right?” 

You covered your face, “Not exactly.” 

“Okay, so? What happened? I’m nineteen, Y/N, come on.” 

You hated talking about it, you hated admitting it. Knowing that he was one of the few men in the world to ever touch you but the only one who had left impact, left you wanting in his wake, the only one to make you finish… It was crazy, it was despicable. You hated remembering it had only ever been him to touch you right. And now you were admitting it to your sister. “Casual… sex. Friends, almost. Mostly the benefits.” You said, trying to keep it simple. Her eyes widened even larger. “Turns out he was cheating on his girlfriend with me.”

“He’s just a dick,” she nodded, understanding. “I’m so sorry, that must have put you in an awful position.” 

“I felt awful, I still feel awful,” you told her. “One of the worst things I’ve ever done.” 

“I get that,” she nodded. “Was he any good anyways?” 

You hated the question. “No.” You lied. “Awful.” 

She laughed, “Makes sense.” You knew she had more questions but didn’t want to pry. Besides, you were both tired. She showered before bed and by the time she got out, you were asleep, waiting for the next day of the road trip to be over. In the morning you showered, tied your hair up, and got into the car again with your sister. Patrick and Simon were doing their own things as the car got back onto the road. 

You continued listening to music, looking out the window, shutting out the sounds of the car. Your sister watched you change the song three times, but when her gaze shifted back to the conversation with Simon, she noticed Patrick’s eyes on you. Knowing what she knew now, she hated him just a little bit more. She watched him for a bit and he didn’t look away, so she addressed him to take his attention off of you before you noticed. 

That night at another motel, your sister was much too tired to stay up watching the motel television bullshit with you and passed right out on top of her covers. You fixed that, obviously, but after getting into bed yourself you let an hour pass with no sleep. You just couldn’t, no matter what you tried. At that point, you said fuck it and put your bathing suit on. The motel had a hot tub and a pool and maybe a quick swim could tire you out. You wrapped yourself in a towel and headed out to where the motel pool was. The lights from within the pool gave off a sort of aquamarine tint to the things around it- it was the only source of light aside from the ones lining the wall of the motel and the shining motel sign that flashed gold and red. It was perfectly dim and the night was perfectly still, just as the empty pool was. You put your towel to the side and waded in, pulling your hair up into some lazy updo so it wouldn’t get soaked in pool water. You were barely up to your shoulders when his voice spoke up, “It’s a bit late to swim, don’t you think? Isn’t it your thing to get an early sleep for an early start?” He asked. Patrick was in the hot tub, you’d completely missed him. 

“Maybe when I was playing or when I’m coaching, but we’re in the middle of nowhere with no court in sight.” You replied. “Can I just enjoy my swim, please? I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me.” 

“Fair,” he replied. You could hardly see him in the dim of the pool lights, but you could make out his figure, arm draped over the edge of the hot tub like he was reversing a car. “Since you said please.” 

“Uh huh,” You replied. You didn’t stay for as long as you intended. Being alone anywhere with him was too gross for comfort. Neither he nor you said goodnight when you went back to your room, showered, and fell asleep.

The next stretch of road was the last before the hotel. You were set up nicely and you thanked the concierge boys who helped you with your bags as you went to the front desk to retrieve your room keys, everything dealt with already by your boss. You handed the keys out. “Here’s how this is going to work. There’s a week before the Junior Open and this hotel, even if it comes across as luxury, it’s here so you can get a good, safe, comfortable rest on the days leading up. If Patrick and I have nothing on the schedule for you, you’re free to roam around the local area, however, curfew is 11. Please check your emails for the daily schedule.” 

Simon nodded and Patrick looked like he didn’t pay any attention- why would he anyway? “Sounds good,” Your sister smiled. “And we get our own rooms?” 

“We have the second-to-top floor suite. It’s like four hotel rooms joined into one, attached to a main bathroom, living room, place to eat, and a kitchen. Kind of like a house with a four-person hotel hallway built in.” You said. You were so excited to finally lock yourself away in your hotel room with a book and not have to sit in a car with Patrick for hours at a time. Sure, he’d be nearby but the hotel and its amenities would make for an amazing way to keep yourself far from him. He plucked his key card out of your hand and as he passed, you could smell his cologne. 

The room was amazing and the view was even more beautiful. There was a balcony in the suite as well as in your room, but the joined balcony beat that one out for a better view. You curled up in your super comfortable hotel bed with your book and finished it before dinner. Your sister came in and out wondering what she should wear to the Junior Open, already stressing about that because she didn’t want to stress about the actual game. You helped for a bit, then you went out to the main room. 

“Simon, do you have dinner plans?” You asked him. He was on the couch playing with some portable video game device. 

“Nah, I was thinking room service. My parents gave me a hundred to spend.” He said. 

You nodded, “I was thinking the same thing.” Your sister agreed, busy going through her schedule. So you ordered room service for everyone, sending Simon to go see what Patrick wanted. You were surprised he even stuck around the room and wasn’t at the casino downstairs or out at some club already. Dirtbag activities. 

The next day was a late start, but you and your sister went down to the hotel gyms to work out a bit before going to the hotel courts to practice. Three days until the game. You practiced all methods, swings, serves, and Patrick and Simon practiced in the next court over. Then you went separate ways for lunch just to meet back after at the court. You were done around four so you didn’t overdo it and the rest of the night was free. You and your sister continued to talk strategy and gossip over cranberry juice in the main room of the suite and you were vaguely aware of Patrick sitting in the corner going through his phone, his hand on his head, elbow resting on his knee. He looked up at one point, meeting your eyes and you looked away. The price you paid for being curious. Your sister and Simon, both tired from the day went to their rooms a little early. You decided to get dressed properly and head downstairs to the casino and play a few hands of whatever games they had going. 

You adjusted the length of your skirt as you sat down at the table and took part in everything happening. You were dealt in and in only a small amount of time, you had a good amount of money owed to you. You were definitely on a roll. “Didn’t know you gambled,” Patrick said, sitting beside you on the empty stool. You groaned out loud, rolling your eyes. “You're good, too, what is this, around $400?” 

“$700, and what are you doing here?” 

“I can’t enjoy the casino?” 

“You couldn’t enjoy any other game?” You asked, not even caring to look his way. You raised your hand to signal the dealer to let you out of the game. 

Patrick waved the dealer off and turned to face you better, “Don’t stop just because I’m here. And I like this game- my favourite one, actually, and the only table that has it.” He told you. You looked at him, hoping your eyes would burn through him. But he looked maybe half genuine, aside from the smirk. It was your favourite game too. 

“You’re just going to lose to me, you know that, right?”

“I’m okay with that,” he smiled and his eyes met yours. “Or, I’m okay with you thinking that. Say goodbye to your $700.” His grin slowly crawled up his face.

“Uh-huh?” You laughed at him as he got himself dealt into the game. It was a laugh of disbelief- one, that he thought he could win and two, that he was really that sure. “You’re really still that sure of yourself?” 

“Still? You think I’m sure of myself?” 

“It’s not a compliment, Zweig.” Your laughing at him died down just a little, you couldn’t maintain it when he was just such a fucking loser.

“I am that sure of myself.” He replied. “You don’t think I can?” 

You shook your head and spoke firmly. No. I don’t think you can.” Your tongue pressed against your cheek and you pushed all your winnings to the centre, eyes not leaving his. “Try me.” Anything to put him in his place, truly. You could taste the win in your mouth the way it handed itself to you on a platter. And Patrick put a little extra money in on top of yours and the other player’s, eyes not leaving yours. But he did end up looking away first and the hand began. 

He had good cards and knew how to play them, but yours were better and you knew how to use them to their fullest potential. You placed yours down and they were better and the hand was about to go to you, but at the very last moment, unexpectedly, another player had a card just above yours and it was over, just like that. The man swept away your winnings and you just scoffed. 

“You were that sure of yourself?” Patrick replied. “Nice.” 

“Nice? Asshole.” You got up from your chair and grabbed your purse, ready to move on to another game at another table and let him enjoy his ‘favourite’. “My cards were above yours anyway.” You said as your face passed his. He just grinned as you walked away. 

You were good at other games, thank god. It wasn’t all lost money. You won another $350 by midnight and decided to stop and leave behind the men who had been hitting on you during the last few hands of poker. You were happy with the winnings and the fact Patrick hadn’t been seen the rest of your night. It was a good distraction either way. 

You bought yourself a bottle of iced tea with your winnings and walked over to the elevator, pressing the button to go up to the suite and using your key card to confirm it. It was just your luck that Patrick walked into the elevator. “You have your own keycard, you know that, right?” You sighed, turning away from him and pulling out your phone to pay attention to anything else as the doors closed, locking you in there with him.

He held it up, then shoved it into his pocket. “So did you end up winning your money back? I watched your games, you’re not all that great at poker. I don’t think a career in gambling is in the cards.”

“I think I missed the part where I asked, Zweig.” You stated, folding your arms. “And I think you missed all of the context clues that tell you that I don’t want to talk to you.” 

“You’re so angry,” he remarked, leaning against the metal elevator wall. “Isn’t it exhausting?” 

“Not as exhausting as talking to you.” 

“Fuck you,” he replied. 

You turned to look at him, pausing a beat just to look at him in disbelief. “You used to like that, you know?” 

“You’re not better than me for anything that happened after. You knew I cheated and you still fucked me after, you remember that one?” 

“It wasn’t very memorable,” You chuckled to yourself even though it was one of the biggest lies you’d ever told anyone. He’d put you in a corner. Of course, you knew you weren’t better than him for that last time. It haunted you, but not much more than the entirety of it haunted you. His lips against your lips, his lips against your skin, his lips between your thighs, they were memories that acted like ghosts. All of it was wrong, every kiss, every touch. It was sickening to remember that it wasn’t just you- and that it wasn’t just Tashi either. It was memorable, all of it, but for all the wrong and right reasons, and those right reasons were ten times more haunting because it was so wrong that it felt right. You knew Patrick sensed the lie but you couldn’t act like it. “I can be civil with you, Zweig, if you leave me alone like you have the past year or so. I don’t want to talk to you, why can’t you get that through your head?” 

He was silent, just staring at you, no grin on his face, not even a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. And as soon as the elevator doors opened, he funneled out and right up to his room. You let out a breath and blinked a few times to recalibrate. You took your melatonin, changed, washed up, and headed to bed. 

The next day he kept up exactly that. He didn’t address you, he hardly even looked at you and even if he did, you didn’t notice, you were far too busy. The Junior US Open was tomorrow. You woke up your sister at dawn to go to a hotel aquafit class and then dry off and hit the court. Patrick was there with Simon running east swing drills and you got your sister working hard. She was more than ready, you knew that, but you also knew that giving her any break would make her believe that you didn’t think so, so you kept her going. 

Simon called to you and your sister. “Doubles? For fun, before lunch?” He asked, walking over. Patrick stared at the ground as he walked over just a few steps behind. Poor guy didn’t know the vendetta both you and your sister had against Patrick. She nodded, so you nodded. You hadn’t played in a match in a while, honestly. It was all training and hitting the ball back and forth. 

You stood opposite Patrick on the court and it reminded you of a time when you had played him and Art next to Tashi, for fun. How you didn’t know they were together was beyond you, but you did remember how Art looked at her. You had to blink a few times to get the imagery out of your head as Simon served the ball. You were lucky your sister was on it. 

Patrick still played rough, swinging hard just to challenge your sister a bit. You appreciated the push from him if you were honest. She needed it. It was a good game and there were a few flop swings from you and Patrick that were laughable. You laughed more at him than yourself but he didn’t seem to mind it at all. He just dribbled the ball and served it back to you to hit it over to Simon, etc. 

Your sister watched how Patrick’s eyes stayed on you when the ball was over with Simon being served. She couldn’t help but think it was a little weird how he seemed to be fighting a smile and she followed up with wondering why. And you didn’t notice at all. 

Lunch was good, but you were back to it until dinner, then at the gym after dinner doing a bit of yoga. Your sister turned to you, “He knows that you don’t like him?” She asked. You hated knowing who ‘he’ was. 

“Mhm,” You hummed, stretching upward.

“He doesn’t act like he cares very much.” 

You looked over at her, “I don’t care if he cares. And he’s had around seven years to not care about any repercussions, so that’s just on the passage of time.” 

She moved into downward dog, “Have you talked about it?” 

“No.” You answered. “Kind of. When it had just happened. But that was all I ever said to him about it.” You disregarded last night. “He knows what he did was wrong and I don’t let him forget.” Your mind slipped back to what it felt to lay in his arms afterward, the way he kissed your hair and still cupped your face, the way all of it was wrong, the entire time. And how it felt to feel his hand trail against your skin as you pulled yourself away from him that very last time in your car. 

She clicked her tongue, “I can’t believe you have to work with him. Couldn’t you get him fired for so many things?” 

You nodded, but it hadn’t ever occurred to you why you hadn’t. It would have been simple, a collection of evidence and a complaint and surely he’d be out, but you hadn’t done anything like it. “I could.” You replied. “But I’m not that much of a bitch.” 

“You’re never a bitch,” your sister laughed. “You only become one when he’s around.” 

It was true. And later that night the only hint of Patrick there was, was the eye contact you made with him on the way up to your room. He sat on the couch on his phone while you exited the balcony with your cup of tea. Then it was early bed- the Junior US Open was tomorrow. 

That rolled around all too quickly. You got your sister up early for a massage and a stretch, you ordered her a protein shake as she stressed the entire time. You only spoke in affirmations all morning as you double and triple-checked that she had everything she needed, rackets, water, food, etc. The day was warm with a perfect cool breeze that was gentle enough to play tennis in. You tried not to let the stress of the day get to you as you were driven to the courts. You reminded your sister of all she trained for and she was more than excited, she was bouncing more than the tennis balls were around the court as she warmed up. She wasn’t on until later, so you hit the ball back and forth to pass the time outside. 

Game in game out she was a winner and she knew it, winning her games consecutively. 

In between, you watched Simon’s games and he did well until he didn’t, falling behind. Your sister continued later and by the time she was on the very last game, you knew she was a winner. You were on the sidelines cheering her on. She won, of course, she won. 

She came right to you and hugged you tightly, thanking you for everything. It was an amazing victory and nothing could ruin it. 

The car ride back to the hotel was your sister just yapping uncontrollably about the details of her game to poor Simon, who had not won. She was so excited about it, she was talking endlessly. Patrick was engaging with her at her own speed and you were tired, it was a good thing someone could do with all that she had to say. 

She had the biggest nap of her life when she got back to the hotel room. She was almost asleep in the car and she was lucky she made it to bed. You had a nap on her hotel room couch, that’s how tired you were as well. It was a big day. You woke up around seven pm, but she was still dead asleep. You snuck out quietly and into your room. You’d finished your book, your phone was boring, and Simon honestly wasn’t the best company so you showered the day off, dried your hair, put your makeup on and got dressed again. 

Just a black skirt and a comfortable black long-sleeved shirt, some jewelry you liked, and a bit of sparkle to your eyeshadow. You deserved it. All that and some easy kitten heels and you headed downstairs to the restaurant and bar. It was beautiful, warmly lit and dim, stained glass between the bar and the kitchen casting the light through the panes in different colours across the bar. You ordered a vodka cranberry and ate the lime out of it first. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” A man said. It wasn’t any man you knew, but a stranger. He came from behind you, old, but not too old, and a little bit handsome aside from the obvious aging. “I’ve never seen a pretty woman alone at a hotel bar. Hotel bars are for the straggling men, lost in the city. Like that one over there,” he said, pointing to the other end of the bar. You weren’t sure why your stomach flipped when you saw it was Patrick. He didn’t seem to see you, but he sat there at the bar with a short glass of what you knew was whiskey, swirling it around, his head resting against his fist. He was wearing a black t-shirt and black pants, having changed from earlier as well. “Now what’s your story, I’m curious.” 

You turned your attention back to the handsome older man. “Tennis,” you told him. And it sparked up a conversation that was really more insightful than the being hit on that you were expecting- not that you weren’t bought drinks by two other men at the bar who smirked from where they sat at a booth. The man seemed to be in his early sixties with some good things to say and you listened intently, not noticing Patrick’s eyes on you from where he sat. 

It was good to talk to someone so removed from the tennis world who had so much to say about investing in stocks and surprisingly, you didn’t hate it. You sipped your drink, getting a little surprised at the attention you were getting and it was something new. The night continued with more men hitting on you, trying to sit with you… You weren’t the most beautiful woman ever but you weren’t ugly… this was a lot either way. The night continued to pass. 

When Patrick got up, you noticed it, he locked eyes with you, raising his eyebrows and chuckling. At what? At you? You watched his tongue press into his cheek before he pointed at you on his way by… it took a moment to realize what exactly it was he was pointing at until you looked down. Your shirt with only a few buttons at the top, had all of the buttons undone and you had somehow not noticed. Your bra was on display like a hooker or like some common whore and you knew Patrick’s chuckle was at exactly that. 

“Fuck!” You said, turning away from the man and getting up without explaining a thing. You must have looked a little crazy. Patrick laughed out loud as he passed you; your anger and embarrassment got the best of you. Your voice became genuine, “Did you know the whole time?” 

He looked at you, looking at the hand that covered the undone buttons, “Almost, yeah.” You didn’t want to be angry, instead, you just stayed humiliated, your eyebrows furrowing. You couldn’t be mad, not now. So many paid-for drinks you didn’t even drink and so many compliments you’d taken so graciously and you didn’t know and he did? “I thought maybe it was on purpose, though. Maybe if I haven’t changed, you haven’t either.” He said. And now you could be angry. He couldn’t be unaffected, he couldn’t be normal. What he meant by what he said was that you were a slut. And that wasn’t fair.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t just say that and let it go because you’re drunk.” You said, straightening yourself out, trying to shake him off. “Not because you’re just an asshole who can’t mind his own business.” 

“I know my business- it’s you who came to the bar after me, today. If you wanted space so badly, why follow me?” 

“Follow you? Don’t flatter yourself, Zweig.” Your conversation moved just a few steps outside the hotel bar and into a corner of the vast lobby. You chuckled at the fact he really thought so. “I wanted a drink so I got a drink, like an adult who goes to a bar, I didn’t know these are your moping grounds.” 

He shook his head, rolling his eyes, “And you wanted civil?” 

“Everything you say is so completely self-absorbed. You’re obsessed with yourself, honestly get a fucking room. It’s disgusting how much you want to fuck yourself, pardon my reaction to it.”

He just grinned, “Yeah, okay, have fun with your senior citizen, how’s the bra thing working out for you?” 

You shook your head, tone changing again, “That- I didn’t know. I’m mortified.” 

“I’m sure. You know most women who are trying to gold dig go for a more subtle route.” He said, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. 

“That’s enough,” You snapped. “That’s enough. You’ve been drinking, I’m not arguing with you over something so stupid as the buttons on my shirt. You’re not worth it. You’re not worth a second of my time, you are so beneath me, I am so past you. You are so pathetic, thinking I still give a fuck about what you think of me.” 

“That’s what you think of me? I’m pathetic. You say you don’t care but you seem to care an awful fucking lot.” That terrible fucking grin was so aggravating. 

“Then you’re delusional. Grow up, honestly. I asked you to leave me alone, not slut shame me for some stupid buttons. How much would it have cost your ego to have told me that my buttons were undone? I hate you but I would have had the decency to tell you if this was you in this situation. Fuck!” You ran your hand through your hair and the argument paused for a beat, then two. You breathed out heavily, turning, your hand still on your chest. And you just started walking toward the elevator. What else could you do but just walk away? He was the problem but you became one too when you were with him. It was almost unavoidable when everything he said upset you for reasons both explainable and inexplicable. You had no control over it all, you just had too much to say, so much internalized rage for what you’d done, for the position he’d put you in all those years ago. You were glad the elevator was empty as you scanned for the suite and the doors closed, but the elevator didn’t move, it just made a clunking noise and you knew, as the doors opened again, that there was no escape from this personal hell. Thank god you only had a day and a half left here with him, you thought, as the doors let him into the elevator with you. 

“Walk away like you had no part in that, yeah,” he said, moving to his side of the elevator. You groaned out loud, rolling your eyes so far back it hurt. “Reminds me of the other time you did the same thing.” 

“Was last night not enough?” You laughed in genuine disbelief. “You put me in a disgusting position that nobody should have to be in. You cheated! On your perfect girlfriend! With me, over and over and over and I had no idea because you didn’t have the decency to tell either of us.” 

“I was also nineteen years old!” He retaliated. “You expected me to have my shit all sorted out? I’m sorry I wasn’t a five-year-plan type of guy!” 

“That’s a crazy take when not cheating is one of the easiest things to do.” You laughed, scoffing when you caught your breath. “You used me.” 

Another beat, his eyes softened just in the slightest. “I didn’t use you.” He replied. “For what? For sex?” 

You guessed he didn’t need you for that. The elevator became uncomfortable as it rose between floors. Both of your hands fell to your sides, the top of your shirt falling open again unnoticed. You just blinked at his words, looking away. But no, what? You went right back into it, “Then why? Tell me that you weren’t just selfish, keeping two girls around to satisfy yourself beyond the regular needs of a man. Tell me that you weren’t only thinking about yourself and not the feelings of both your own girlfriend and the girl you’d sneak out to see. You made me some fucking mistress! The other woman, I didn’t know I was the other woman, can you imagine what finding that out feels like? The guilt? The shame? Tell me you weren’t just selfish.” 

“Not everything comes down to that. You’re seeing this how you want to see it. You are at fault, you are not innocent in this. You knew and you still fucked me and-” Patrick hit the pause elevator button and you just glared. “No matter what you said to me afterward, you still did it. None of this is linear or organized, it just fucking happened. You are not the victim you say you are, you deserve a good portion of that guilt because you fucked me, even after, no matter what you’ve done to shut that part out.” He said. You felt the fire behind your own eyes. 

“I haven’t shut it out, I’ve grown past it. What you did is still wrong.” 

“I know that! I know that- I ended up with nothing when it was all said and done. I was fine with not having Tashi, but-” he paused and pressed a hand to his temple for just a half-second. “You’re still so angry! It’s hard to believe you’ve grown past it when you’re still reminding me of one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made constantly.” 

You scoffed again, “I’m sorry you can’t deal with your own problems and the shit you put on me still haunts me. How is it you get to live it down and I don’t?” 

“I haven’t fucking lived it down.” 

“Pathetic.” 

“Fuck you. Honestly.” He said. “I made a mistake as a teenager, I don’t know how to go back and fix how I felt about you. I can’t take anything back so I don’t know what you want me to do here. Was I selfish? Yeah, I was. You’re right. Does that make you feel better about yourself? Do you feel like less of a victim now? I’m so sure of myself, yeah, okay, at least I haven’t tricked myself into believing I disliked how wrong it felt.”

You blinked hard and hit the elevator button again so it would begin to move once again. “You think I liked it?” 

“I think you did. I think some part of you hated Tashi and you liked the fact you could have me once more for good measure. I think that is what ‘haunts’ you. That you liked it.” He said. And the elevator doors opened to the empty main room of the suite. You stepped out the second you could, trying to get away from this so desperately. “I admit I’m selfish so you can admit that. Or at least try and admit it to yourself.” 

At those words, you tossed your purse on the couch and turned on your kitten heel. You walked right back up to him and pressed your pointer finger to his chest. “You are still so fucking self-absorbed that you think I liked being your side-chick or whatever the hell I was to you? You think so highly of yourself- you’re presenting yourself as a thing to be had between girls? Some trophy? A prize?”

“You weren’t so special either.” He lied. As if he didn’t like you, truly like you, more than he liked Tashi, unfortunately. His mistake was trying to balance things while he figured out how to tell you that he wanted you. Tashi loved tennis more than anything, she was mean and she was cold and she was hard to please but you in his bed, you were warm in more ways than one and you always listened and you weren’t all about tennis the way she was. And he liked you- genuinely liked you. But he went about it entirely wrong. He told you that you weren’t special but you were. You always were. He watched your eyebrows furrow at his words and more bitter things came out of his mouth, “And you said you couldn’t give a fuck what I thought of you.” 

“You’re not worth my time. Fuck you, Zweig. Fuck you and your self-obsession. Get a grip, get a life, and get over yourself.” You pressed your finger hard into his chest and let your hand fall to your side, eyes meeting his, the fire in your eyes reflecting in his own. “Fuck you. You’re an asshole.” The stare lingered before you shook your head, just disbelieving in this entire stupid conversation. It felt like talking in circles. Pointless. You’d never see his point and he would never see yours. He just looked at you like nothing you said meant anything and was only to provoke him when it wasn’t. He made it feel pointless. And you were fuming, so fucking angry. He matched that as well, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. So you just turned and walked right into your hotel room, shutting the door behind you. 

What a fucking waste of time and breath, you thought. He wasn’t worth it. Any of it. You just breathed out, hearing his hotel room door shut next to yours. You pressed your hand to your forehead, letting out a second sigh as you thought about just how stupid he was, deflecting, avoiding. You were glad you were out of the heat of that moment. If you’d been out there any longer yelling at him who knows what you would have done? Or said. The number of times you’d said ‘fuck you’ were uncountable and you hated who he made you. You weren’t this person he made you- you were kind and sweet and gentle and patient but right now all you knew was this person he turned you into. He was just so disgusting and so self-centered and you couldn’t get past what he’d done and he never elaborated on what he meant by ‘I don’t know how to go back and fix how I felt about you’. Fuck, he just made you so fucking angry and it really was exhausting being around him. Dredging these things back up. Him and his fucking ego, really. 

You weren’t exactly sure just what you were going to say to him, the conversation felt final, but there had to be some reason you opened the door to your hotel room again. Took your back off of the door, turned again, buttons on the shirt still very open, and you opened the door by some possession of the mind and it was just coincidence that when you looked up, Patrick stared back at you, standing outside your door like he was about to knock. Your eyes met his and it was easy to see that there was still fire in his eyes the same as there was in your own. It was only a few seconds, maybe ten, maybe fifteen and he stood there and so did you, wordlessly. Silence, empty, just blinking and breathing and silence. Before the mutual crash of him stepping toward you, grabbing your face, and kissing you hard. You had met him in the middle just between your doorframe, and your hands immediately found themselves flat against his back, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt. No other thoughts.

He kissed you like he meant it, with all of the hateful things that you had said still very much on the tongue that swiped past his own. And it was desperate, the way you kissed- hot, heavy, so passionate, too passionate. Your back was against the stretch of the wall just inside your room as he pressed you to it and him against you. The door shut beside you and it was a good thing. So much feeling, so much hate and so much time, so much weight in his kiss but it was as easy as breathing. 

He held your face between large hands that slowly slid down to your jaw, one of them down your neck, his body pressed so closely to yours that you thought maybe you’d start sinking through the wall against your back. His hand traveled downwards and you let it as his hand went around your neck, not pressing, not squeezing, just placement. It sent chills through your whole body though your bodies only radiated pure heat. Small sounds escaped both of your lips, small hums, as his hand slid down and over the exposed bra from your undone buttons. His hand cupped your chest, not too rough, but definitely without being gentle. None of this was gentle. 

You popped your knee out just a bit as he pressed himself against you so that when he did, he felt it. He groaned just a bit as you then took a step off the wall, pressing him to the wall opposite the small entrance to the hotel room. Still so desperate, still so in need, his hand still on your chest and one of your hands traveling to rest on his jaw while- as he began to take off your shirt- your other hand slid down his chest to break the waistband of his pants, just gently rimming it with your pinkie finger before undoing the button of his pants. His lips didn’t leave yours even as you slid your hand down into them. He was hard, he was so hard and in this desperation even you didn’t have the time to think. You didn’t want the time to think as your shirt was pulled over your head between the sound Patrick made into your mouth. 

All of this hatred just seeped out of your skin at a scalding temperature as you pressed yourself against him, your hand gripping him harder, he didn’t waste another second gaining back his leverage, kissing you as you walked over to your bed. He kicked off his pants and in seconds he was on you, really on you, over you. Climbing over you in your bra and little black skirt. Your hand left his boxers and you began to pull at his t-shirt, all of your actions desperate and wanting and his lips were on your neck, his hand resting at the base of it again, moving your hair aside. Gentle, but starving. His skin against yours, hands trailing all over your body, one of them deciding to drop down between your legs. With only a touch of his finger against the inner of your thigh, you opened them just a little so that very same finger could gently press against you where you needed it. This was too gentle, in a world that wasn’t gentle, so when you kissed Patrick harder he knew to cut the bullshit. You weren’t delicate, he didn’t need to act like it. He pulled your underwear to the side to gently rub circles into your clit and easily slipped his other finger inside of you, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. 

You hated how it was almost familiar, his pattern of heavy breathing and his fingers pumping inside of you with that careful curving middle finger hitting that perfect spot inside of you. You hated how it sent a flush over your whole body and made you feel almost euphoric like he was some sort of drug. His fingers curled inside of you, moving up and down as he went half in, half out, his thumb on your clit like it was the easiest thing and it probably was- he had good practice. You were moaning as quietly as you could, breathily against his skin before without warning, he cut that out too, just to pull your underwear down from inside the skirt and you kicked it off somewhere far away. His fingers went to resume his actions, but he wasn’t so lucky to go back to something so easy. 

With a swift rocking motion, you were able flip yourselves over so now you were on top of him. You pulled your hair to the side as you bent down to kiss him now, feeling his hard dick against you, still hidden by his boxers. You kissed him, still fast, still hot, still in need as you slowly rolled your hips against him, causing him to groan out into your mouth just the same way you just had when his fingers were inside of you. And in seconds he was getting rid of his boxers and his dick was standing, waiting. He was so hard, still so in need, he almost pushed you down onto it but you didn’t want to waste any time either, moving down just a bit while his hands began sliding down your bare waist, resting on your hips, his eyes meeting yours for what felt like the first time since you’d crashed against each other at the door. His mouth was just a little open, eyes on you like you were everything, and it felt like a pause but it was only half a second. 

He kissed you again, just as hungry, his lips meeting yours in such a sickeningly sweet way but it was all so fast, his tongue in your mouth in a way you had not forgotten. A kiss only broken by the moan that slipped between both of your lips as you sank down onto him. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your ass, pushing just gently as he filled you entirely. You hated that with all the men you’d been with since, none of them had ever filled you the way he did. And that hate was momentum enough to begin to move up and down, hips rocking with his guiding force. “Fuck…” he said through his heavy breathing as you rode him, moaning in response as the rocking turned to a slight bounce, his hips lifting to meet you halfway. 

It was so all-consuming, the feeling. Like some hot flush in your body every up and down was worthy of the extreme rush of the perfect feeling of him. Fucking yourself on him, his hands tight on your hips, pulling you up and down harder, faster, as your hair fell into your face time and time again. This desperate sex got more desperate as Patrick made a move to regain his control, flipping you onto your back without even pulling out. You grinned breathlessly as his hands moved back to your jaw to kiss you all the same, not letting up on how hard he kissed you while he began to fuck you harder than before. Your legs wrapped around his body and his arm propping him up rested just beside your head and you needed each other more than anything it was violent, the way his body met yours rapidly, perfectly. It was a mixture of breathing hard, whispers of ‘fuck’ and ‘god’ and skin and the moans you tried to suppress along with his own. 

Your eyes rolled back as he fucked you. It felt like nothing had ever compared, like nothing could even come close to this feeling. It felt like you were losing all sense of the world outside the bedroom, being fucked truly dumb and numb to any other part of this, not the morals, not your principles. Nothing else mattered aside from this violent show of passion. His hand now on your waist, yours around his neck and his eyes met yours again. 

Barely open, in this world of lust, he looked back at you through his eyelashes like none of this was happening. You couldn’t see fire in his eyes anymore. His eyes were more showing water, still, calm, despite his actions and despite it all. Things slowed. And he kissed you again, slower, as his thrusts continued with the same power and the same force. Your hands slid into his hair and there was nothing you wanted more in this moment than the kiss… Somehow ignoring the outside world for sex became ignoring the sex for the kiss. You wouldn’t breathe if you didn’t have to. “Mm- I’m so close, fuck,” he mumbled over your lips, mouth opening just a bit as he picked up the pace and your fingers closed in fists of his hair as a new wave of pleasure completely overtook all of your thinking. 

“Uh huh,” You nodded, using your hands to kiss him again, to keep him close to you as his thrusts got sloppy and more spaced but still hard as finished. His moans mixed with your own as he slowed to a stop. “Fuck…” You sighed heavily. It was over, it was over, it was over and you were a mess underneath him. Your makeup all fucked up, your hair ruffled, your body sticky from the sweat of it all. Nearly-naked, almost entirely, under Patrick, of all people. You would have to deal with the high and it’s comedown, its consequences. 

The consequence seemed to be not having anything witty or hateful to say to him as he moved to lay next to you, rubbing his face, obviously thinking this over the same way you were. You propped yourself up on your elbow and looked at him, really looked at him. And all he had for you was that stupid, arrogant grin. But it made you laugh. And for the first time in all of the times he had ever fucked you and left after dating back eight years- he reached over and pulled you into another kiss, silencing your giggle. A real kiss, hands staying put on your jaw, your hand gently pressed again his bare chest. The high was gone but the comedown was cushioned in a way you had never felt before. You couldn’t hate someone who kissed you this way with nobody waiting for him at home. Like pieces falling into place, after eight years, there was the first kiss with no intention of sex. 

You couldn’t hate how right it felt with nothing about it having to feel wrong. It was surprising, how different it felt. The consequence was that you liked it. 

And on the way home, your sister knew something had shifted. You sat closer to him than you ever allowed, he addressed you when he had something to say and it was just all too normal. There was another night at the motel where you’d ended up talking everything out with Patrick, finding out how he really felt about things without the need for argument. He confessed to just about everything before the night of conversation ended with you both a little bit too close. Your eyes met his in the glow of the motel pool you sat next to and before any other words were said, his hand slid around the back of your neck and he kissed you again. You didn’t have sex that night. But you ended up in his arms, your hair being tucked behind your ear, his fingers tracing patterns over your thigh. 

Your sister knew something was up for sure when you returned to the motel room around 4am, but she didn’t question it. The biggest tell was that you were your regular, sweet self again. That and you had stopped calling him Zweig. There wasn’t any need to dwell on the past, you’d both decided. He was forgiven over a few cups of coffee. And your past actions felt less like something haunting... more like a mistake from the end of your teenage years.

It truly was exhausting feeling so much and not letting it serve a true purpose, you both found. You began to recognize that not everything formed in the fires of lust stayed on fire forever. It was better to succumb to the still waters that his eyes reminded you of. You liked this rematch, it was one of the best games you'd ever played.

[datesinredink]

Ranking the yandere rottmnt boys by how likely they are to kidnap their darling

Just a little crumb to keep myself from losing my mind while staring at google docs this late at night. Sorry if this is super bad, it's way later at night than I'm used to staying up and election night stressed me the hell out.

Donnie.

I have absolutely no doubts that he's going to at least try very very hard to kidnap you. And honestly, I doubt it would be too hard. He's a highly trained, mystic wielding, tech inventing, mutant ninja turtle. And on top of that, he's very fond of planning absolutely everything. And to finish it all off, I think it would be once in a blue moon that he actually treats his darling as an equal. He already thinks he's better than almost everyone, and when he gets obsessed, he has to make himself feel better about it somehow, so he decides to cope by thinking you need him instead of it being the other way around. As a result, he treats you a bit like a very glorified songbird, and songbirds.. well, aren't they usually put in cages anyway? You won't even care after a week or two of adjustment! (He will get upset if you aren't content with being kidnapped by then, by the way.)

2. Raph

The only reason Raph is behind Donnie on this list is because I think he would take longer to justify it to himself. He thinks you're fragile, that you need to be protected from the harsh world! I mean, he barely trusts his youngest brother, who is also a highly trained ninja, to do a simple mission on his own. How do you think he'll treat you after the obsession sets in properly? Not really as an equal, I'll tell you that. He's much nicer to you than Donnie would be, but he still doesn't respect you enough to let you handle yourself, even if that's not how he sees his behavior. At the same time though... isn't he supposed to be a hero? Do heroes kidnap their darlings? Or would this make him the dragon... In the end though, he'll decide that he's fine with being the dragon so long as he knows that the rest of the world won't be able to run their metaphorical (or maybe literal, depending on how unpopular you are in the area) pitchforks right through your heart.

3. Mikey

Mikey wouldn't just.. outright kidnap his darling, I think. I think it would start with a fun sleepover at the lair! Then he insists you stay just one more day! You're having so much fun, after all! Don't you wanna hang out with your best friend for a while longer? You agree, of course- him and his brothers have been nothing but nice to you ever since you met them, and their company is always a delight, so it's worth a shot, isn't it? Then suddenly, the weekend is over, and school's ready to chew you up again, so you do leave. Then it's finally the weekend again! You've heard of a fun game from your school friends, so you plan on trying it when you get home this afternoon- it's friday, after all- when you get a text from Mikey in the group chat with his brothers. He wants you to come over again- and, of course, you say "sure". Not like you can't just play the game on sunday, or when you go home saturday. The sleepover flies by, but you're a bit weary by the time you're pretty sure you're supposed to go home- but here's Mikey, and he's so sure that you promised you'd stay at the lair until sunday again! So, you give in. There's always next weekend, right...? I think you get the pattern, but eventually, he'll be keeping you at the lair 24/7, and you'll be rubbing at your weary eyes wondering how you got into this mess. Sometimes you can even see his brothers shoot you worried looks.

4. Leo

Leo would only kidnap his darling as a last resort, and I think it's because of two reasons. One, he's the brother who sees you closest to being an equal (Donnie and Raph constantly go against your personal autonomy and Mikey puts you on an extremely restricting pedestal), though to be fair, that's not a high bar to pass- and two he much prefers to have some sort of interesting conflict to be present because he finds it entertaining. His life is a weird, morally incorrect soap opera at this point, and he's the number one viewer. Kidnapping would only really happen with him if he thought you were either seriously leaving him (moving or getting into a serious relationship with someone else) or if the circumstances around him got too stressful and he needed something to cling to for any semblance of support outside his brothers (who, at that point, would probably also be super stressed). Think post movie, when the city is still recovering. Man, he was probably freaking out thinking that you might've died to the kraang.

[click4rainy]

My lizard boy//SyzothBoyfriend Head Canons

👽: He’s so cutie patootie frfr

❌:Not Proof Read

🖇️: Syzoth x f!Reader

⚠️ :freaky lizard man, (up to your interpretation) dual penetration, cunnilingus, biting, edging, idk if I left anything out but he’s so fine isn’t he? OH, and breeding kink kinda implied? (Definitely)

SFW 💚🦎

★ Syzoth is kind and nurturing. Despite going through immense loss—he still holds that aspect of himself. He’ll often check in just to ensure you’re okay.

★ “Are you feeling alright, bug?” “Are you sure?” “Do you need anything?” “Are you hungry?” “Have you drank water today?”

★ He’s open about his grief, but only when he feels safe enough to share it. Sometimes he’ll tell you about his family with a bittersweet tone, grateful that you’re willing to listen.

★ Syzoth never wants to burden you with his immense guilt. No…But in nights when the memories are too much for him, he allows himself to lean on you. He will hold onto you tightly—as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear too. Your touch often the only thing that can ground him from his despair.

★ He isn’t interested in grand gestures or gifts. He thrives on small, intimate moments. Sharing a meal, late night walks, fire fly watching, or simply enjoying a movie in bed together.

★ He’s honestly so thoughtful, like remembering the tiniest details about you, kind of thoughtful. Your favorite flower, the way you like your tea, and even the books you’re reading. “I saw these flowers on the way back…I think they’re the ones you wanted for book marks. I don’t know, either way they made me think of you…”

★ Syzoth knows what it feels like to hide who you are, given his shape shifting ability and the stigma that comes with being Zaterran. With you, he’s completely himself and encourages you to do the same. Your little hype lizard.

★ He’s does this thing (usually when you’re alone and not particularly doing anything important.) where he’ll suddenly get really close to your face and stare at you intently. This habit (even though you’re used to it) catches you off guard from time to time.

★ “you’re doing it again…” You’ll say with a quirked brow. He leans in closer, still staring intently. “I just can’t help it, love. I can’t keep my eyes off of you…” He answers honestly, his eyes tracing every line of your face shamelessly.

★ Syzoth naturally gravitates towards warmth, which often means curling up to you when he’s feeling a bit too cold. He’ll quietly rest his head on your lap or pull you into his arms, justifying it with a cheeky comment. “What..? You’re practically a walking furnace…” he says with a sly grin “let me borrow some of this heat you horde.”

★ He loves soaking up the sunshine. And if you’re outside together, you’ll often find him lying on his back with his eyes closed, taking in the warmth with a gentle smile. It’s one of the few moments where he looks completely at peace. And you’ve learned to just let him bask while you do your own thing nearby.

★ “I don’t understand how you can just stay there like that for hours…” you tease. He smirks, not bothering to open his eyes. “It’s absolute bliss for us cold blooded creatures, bug. Absolute bliss…”

★ This man will use his forked tongue to “taste the air” gauge his surroundings, especially when he’s in his true form. It’s an instinctive behavior. But he’ll use this ability to playfully taunt you as well. Flicking his tongue in your direction—making you roll your eyes. “You smell nervous.” He quips with a smirk.

★ “I smell just fine, thank you very much.” You retort, lightly swatting at him. (for being right.)

★ He isn’t prone to outward displays of anger. But if he’s upset, he’ll let out low rumbling sounds, or even hiss. It’s a subtle but telling sign of his irritation. And it’s cute as hell.

★ If you’re the type to tease back, Syzoth will respond in kind. By playfully stalking you of course. His movements becoming deliberate and slow, almost like a predator.

★He’ll sneak up on you when you least expect it, his footsteps silent as he follows your scent, his eyes fixed on you. When he finally catches you, his touch is light but teasing, his breath fanning against your skin.

★ “Trying to run away from me?” He asks, his voice coming out in a purr. “You’re not fast enough.” he adds, moving closer. “You’re clever, but I’ve never been one to let my prey get away.”

NSFW 🦎💦

★ He doesn’t mind being a bottom if that’s what you want baby! But he’s personally more of a top. He loves whatever you love. He’s gonna make you cum regardless. “mmmh, absolutely.” “Whatever you say, love.” “Is this what you want?” “Must I really keep my hands to myself…?”

★ I’m saying he’s got two of em. Not elaborating.

★ Syzoth, with his love for warmth, is quite touchy. His hands roaming your sides up and down before sliding into your bra, toying with your nipples until they perk.

★ He likes to bite. Sometimes he’ll bite too hard, sending a jolt of pain and pleasure throughout your entire body. you pout, but he softly hushes you with a murmur, licking his lips and finally pulling away, flicking his tongue over the bite mark, soothing the pain slightly.

★ Of course, he loves to worship your body with his long, dexterous tongue, tracing every curve and contour, leaving absolutely no inch of soft skin untouched. Pinning your thighs in place, he eats you out like no tomorrow.

★ Reaching places you never knew could have feeling, your hands gripping the sheets as he looks up at you through his lashes. He moans, barely audible against your pussy. Lapping at your clit before thrusting his tongue back inside of you, just barely tickling that sweet spot to make you desperate and reeling.

★ He gets off on edging you. Until you are a sweating, crying, whimpering mess. “What’s wrong love?” He croons, feigning ignorance while using his index and middle fingers to spread you open—exposing the fleshy, slick heat to his hungry gaze, his breath teasing every nerve that makes you arch and squirm.

★ He takes his time teasing you, bringing you juuust to the brink of ecstasy before backing off, only to start all over again.

★ Syzoth loves it when you give him head. It’s double the fun. Literally. Your soft, plump lips wrapped around one of his thick, pulsing dicks as your fingers stroke and caress the other. The dual sensations of your hot, wet mouth and gentle touch drives him wild.

★ He’ll tangle his fingers in your hair, (or grip the melon you never know) guiding your head and bobbing it on his length. “That’s it, love…mmmh, perfect~” Your muffled moans vibrate around his sensitive flesh, and it only spurs on his onslaught of face fucking.

★ Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, he’ll yank you up and pin you beneath his muscular, cool form, one cock plunging deep into your slicked cunt while the other seeks whichever entrance you’ll allow.

★ “You drive me absolutely mad. I want to ruin you for anyone else…” “ssso good…sso warm…”

★ Rocking into you, desperate and needy, rutting his hips against yours as he fills you utterly, stretching you deliciously while nibbling your shoulder, both cocks fucking into you simultaneously.

★ His tongue snakes out, tracing the curve of your ear before he nips the lobe sharply. “I'm going to fill every inch of you” “Fill you until you’re dripping with my seed.” “When I’m done with you, the only thing you’ll be able to think about is the feeling of me splitting you open.”

★ He will fuck you for hours—relentlessly. Until finally he hilts inside you, twin cocks throbbing and pulsing. He grunts and shudders, picking up pace once again, pounding into you roughly while his claws dig into your hips. his thrusts become more sloppy, less coordinated.

★ “Want to see you round with my brood,” he grunts, or something similar, slamming in one last, merciless time, flooding your insides with his virile seed. He pulls out, a river of pearly white cream oozing from your well fucked hole(s) “Marked you inside and out.” he purrs, watching his semen drip out of you before falling beside you.

★ He immediately pulls you in close, cradling your head against his chest as he tries to catch his breath. But once he regains some composure, he’s the epitome of a cuddle bug. Stroking damp strands away from your face, kissing your forehead, cheeks and nose. He murmurs praise and words of affection.

👽: I LOVE HIM UGHHH. If he gave me a cup of his cum milk I’d drink it.