#it’s gonna be a long while if it ends up happening

[tonycries]

Bat(man) Romance - T.F.

Synopsis. Running into Batman AKA your ex-husband, Toji, after a heist? Could this night get any worse? Well, there’s also one tiny problem…you’re both covered in séx pollen.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! Catwoman! reader, Batman! Toji, BATMAN AU, exes-to-Iovers, PlNING, séx pollen, he goes FÉRAL, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, he’s BIG, making it fit, tummy buIges, overstím, chokíng, p sIapping, making him cúm early, creampíes, cúmplay, he’s RUlNED, bickering during it, latex, cervíx kíssing, bréeding, pússydrúnk Toji, pheromones, spítting, praise, fíngering, proposals, he’s also rich, L bómbs, Megumi cameo, happy ending, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 8.0k

A/N. CAUGHT IN BAAAD ROMANCE!!

“Too slow~” You’re snickering to yourself, latex-covered legs swinging in the air as you eye the scattered pinpricks of red n’ blue police lights below. Scouring every road and lane in Gotham City for you - while you gazed with amusement atop a nearby rooftop.

You guess that’s part of being the resident Catwoman. Never to be caught.

Well, never to be caught by anyone other than him. 

You shake off the unwanted memories of your now ex-husband, the billionaire vigilante you were supposed to have happily spent the rest of your life with. And it really didn’t help that the skyscraper you’d found refuge on just-so-happened to be part of his sprawling Fushiguro Enterprises. 

Oh well…

Breathing in the sweet, crispy night air; you turn to what had gotten you in trouble in the first place.

That brilliant - almost glowing - pink flower you’d just stolen from the depths of a ministry vault, now clutched tightly in your cunning hands. “I like something that gives me a lil’ fight.”

“Then you’re gonna love me.”

It was a voice you could recognize anywhere, anytime-– that low, drawling growl that seeped his baritone words with just a bit of danger. 

And you’d forgotten how fast Toji Fushiguro was. 

Because just as soon as the realization hits your startled brain, your front hits the frigid rooftop tile. Tackled down. Face smushing into the smooth marble, chest panting out murked clouds when a heavy weight settles on your sinfully arched back.

Toji slouches sexily on top of you so that his scarred maw tickles your tender earlobe, weight fully rested to pin you down on the ground. Big, beefy arms holding you like a vice, “Heya, wifey.”

“Hello, ex-husband.”

“So- s’it a coincidence that both you and the police are visitin’ me or–?”

Ah- he was just as infuriatingly cocky as ever. Fuck having a happily ever after, you two were more likely to kill each other before that.

You snarl, more so because you’re unsure what else to do than anything. “Oh you know- just missing my favorite ex.” No matter how much you kick and scratch, Toji’s restraint stays firm. Trying to focus your widened peripherals on the ground instead, “I thought they killed you.”

“Not yet.”

And oh, you can’t deny that having his familiar hands on you after so long had you a little…electrified.

Shit– fine, on those lonely nights you’d even dreamt of having his thick, doughy fingertips tracing your simmering skin this way. All over. Drawing sloooow hearts near the nape of your neck - that lecherous bastard - before dipping down, down, down to lock both your wrangling wrists with only one of his oversized ones. 

Your fists clench tightly, still grappling onto that priceless exotic flower. The curved fringes of his digits caress the metallic zipper running down your spine, “Hiding something, mama?”

“Meow, tiger—” You’re purring out, “If you wanted to feel me up then you only had to ask~”

“Down, kitty.” His free hand tugs on your cute spiked collar to strangle those jabs, and then immediately unravels your hands to pluck the pretty stem from between your fingerpads. He twirls the blossom casually in his hands, “So this is it, huh? I should hand you to the Gotham police right this second.”

Your nose wrinkles at the sudden waft of syrupy pheromones that puff out from the flower in shimmery pink vapors. Hissing, “No! Give that back-”

Only for the words to tighten themselves into speechless knots at your throat because you’d finally, finally gotten your first good look at Toji Fushiguro since the divorce. 

Ever since you two had decided, after only a few months of marriage, that perhaps love wasn’t enough to keep you two from tying each other down to your own opposing ideologies and purposes. You ruled a crime empire, he was a death-defying hero.

And he was also…hot. 

Had he grown even more handsome than the last time you saw him? Because, fuck, you don’t remember his rugged jawline being quite as sharp. Or his shaggy Stygian bangs curtaining oh-so-intense of a gaze.

And his suit - oh, his suit. Toji was still donning that dark, skin-tight batsuit as you remembered - only right now, his Adonis-like muscles were practically ripping through the elastic material. Illuminated by the yolky moonlight overhead to carve out every dip and curve, every bob of his prominent Adam’s apple.

Slightly horned mask pulled over his head, he doesn’t even bother to hide the sultry roaming of his mossy eyes.

Toji Fushiguro was like sex personified, and that makes you stir impatiently on the polished tile. 

He’s shifting his bulky heft to stop your pathetic motions, straddling now. Lips twisting into a sleazy leer as his silken cape drapes over your body. “Cat got your tongue, wifey?”

“That’s my line, Batman.” You’re huffing out, lower lip jutting out in a way you already knew he loved. Ignoring his murmured rasp of ‘you look good’, you plead for the spoils of your heist once more. God, you could sense the scented perfume already saturating the heady air. “Give that back…p-please-”

“Oho?” Toji raises a sleek black brow, chuckles spouting off in gusts of scorched breath. He inches even closer, letting out a loooow whistle between his surprised lips, “The great Catwoman usin’ her manners? Ohh, say that again.”

“...please?”

“How cute.”

“Fuck off.”

“S’this lil’ flower really that important then?” You hear grumbling from above you - and you really should’ve predicted what would happen next. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when Toji promptly touches the straight bridge of his nose between it’s velvety petals and steals a deep sniff—

“You imbecile!”

And if Toji was swift, you were swifter. 

“Oh, shit- sugar.”

He barely even registers that it’d taken two bats of his long eyelashes for you to break out of his heroic stronghold and slam! his towering body to the ground. Your legs latched onto either side of his toned v-line like glue, one hand of yours clawing onto the unmistakable bat logo on his broad chest. 

“Reminds me of our honeymoon.” Toji cocks a grin from underneath, slender waist bucking - and failing - to throw you off. You were fucking determined. 

“I have never- met a more-” You spit through your clenched teeth, so hard you could taste the raw poison coating your tone. Through each pant of your chest, you swipe for your prize like the cat that was yearning for the cream. “-stubborn- hard-headed- moronic bat-”

Over and over.

And then with a final reach of your free set of fingers, you entrap Toji’s wrist, grab the delicate flower, and–

-crush it.

Only, this was no regular bloom.

The moment its glowy pink petals collide with your fingertips, softened fibre smashing into your eager flesh, the blossom bursts. Bursts. Into a thick, cloudy smog of microscopic pollen that glitters and spreads in front of your eyes. 

The sight was so mesmerizing that by the time you’re trudging your head out of the saccharine-smelling distraction, and crying out a frantic “Don’t breathe it in!”– it’s already too late.

Toji himself can’t see any reason why you’re practically sputtering n’ fraught - he certainly isn’t.

Sure, he was not the one who’d just lost what was likely a few million dollars worth of a rare plant. But when he had you like this? How could he ever even think of- actually, how could he ever even think?

Your chest heaving deliciously in that glossy latex catsuit, cute lips spit-slicked and parted with a never-ending train of complaints, fiery eyes he missed so much locked on him - and sat prettily on top of him, to boot! Oh, how he’d dreamt of this.

“Heh, always did like havin’ you on top of me, mama.” He inches his lolling head carnally closer to steal a few inhales of that sweet, sweet perfume you were wearing. It wasn’t your usual - but damn, did it leave him drunk on you.

And he sounded so gone.

Shit. 

“Oh no, it’s working already.” You bemoan, massaging the looming headache throbbing at your temples.

“What’s workin’?”

“The sex pollen.” You jeer, your heart racing with a slight inkling of satisfaction at the way you’d finally managed to render your taunting ex-husband speechless. Or was it from…something else? You didn’t want to consider that just yet. You’re dragging your hips on top of his and you almost moan.

Instead, stabbing a rigid index right between the cushy valleys of his pecs, lingering. “Which you- would have known if you’d just listened to me. Honestly- this is why we divorced-”

“Sex…”

“Sex pollen.”

And then it’s silence. Tense, deafening silence. 

Not even the sounds of the distantly-blaring police sirens are enough to make the panic set into your shivering body. Because right now it was bubbling with something feverish.

Needy. 

But did you really forget who you were dealing with? Of course, Toji would never let the uncomfortable quiet linger on for too long before he shatters the night stillness with a sharp bark of husked laughter. 

“S-so you’re sayin’...” He starts, and you definitely don’t like that particular tone of his. One which never boded well for you. With a hand squishing either side of your cheeks embarrassingly together, he ogles you dead-on into your hazed irises as he asks, “-you want to fuck me right here, right now, my wife?”

“I-I don’t-”

“I can tell when you lie, sugar.”

“Fuck you.”

His willowy eyes flutter shut with the image - and Toji feels so hot. He feels like he’s burning straight from the inside out, so many degrees higher in temperature at your sexy, sexy glare that told him you wanted murder him in cold blood and dance on his grave. Inhaling deeply, “S’that a request, mama~?”

And it was meant to be a joke - seriously. It was meant to be something stupid that would make you scoff and shove off of his burly body, disappearing into the night as he so often admired. 

But you always did surprise him.

And so did the next word spilling shyly from your mouth– “Yes.”

If Toji thought he was burning before then he was simply aflame with fire right now.

All he can do to steady his dizzy head, all he can do to stagger his greatly heaving chest into choking out a guttural, “Fine- come on.” 

Before you know it, your entire world tilts upside down - and not just because your ex-husband is throwing you over his meaty shoulders, your stomach laid over his rippling muscles. The slinky whoosh! of his grapple gun darting out and hooking onto the side of his building. Firmly. Your ass held high in the air, you swear you feel him give your right cheek a solid spank. “You wanna lose control, wifey? Let’s lose control.”

Fuck.

It takes two seconds for Toji to stride to the edge of the high skyscraper and projectile swing the both of you over to launch inside a conveniently-open window on the highest floor. Pulling himself inside. 

And only one second for you to realize that he’d just line-launched you straight into his fucking bed.

Honestly, your scream had barely had the time to formulate within your throat before you’re being thrown straight onto a plush, dark-blanketed king sized mattress. 

Glassy eyes looking ‘round – you’re realizing that you’d been transported right inside one of his many looming Gotham penthouses. Hell, he’d even fucked you right here in this exact bed a few times before.

Just your luck to choose to hideout in your ex-husband’s fucking house of all places.

“You- you little-” Your shrilling voice cuts out with every springing bounce, which makes the glare thrown in Toji’s direction immensely useless. Thighs emanating a stretchy screech of latex as they press together, you intake deep gulps of his musky cologne. “-you know how I always h-hated that thing.”

And oh, landed only a few feet away from the bed, Toji laughs - he laughs.

Breathy noises coming out in a thick tone, part of his face was obscured with the shadows spilling from outside. But the partial expression you could see made Toji Fushiguro look ruined - sharp, honed canines lifted into a snarl, sage eyes halfway through glowing. Desperate.

He looked at you like he wanted to devour you - and spoke of just the very thing. Gritting out, “And I’ve always hated that damn catsuit, mama.”

Heavy stepfalls thud! thud! thud! closer. And Toji’s sculptured body prowls like a predator closing in on his prey. Closed in on you. 

“L-liar. You know you liked it.”

And closer.

“I did.”

Until it was too close.

And suddenly Toji had two meaty palms loops around your helpless ankles to draaaag you all the way down his decadent bed, your hips flailing until they find purchase somewhere near the very edge. 

Ending off- “And I couldn’t wait to fuckin’ rip it off every time I saw it.”

Your skin feels so hot it’s like it’s melting, parched heat wafting off of you like the damn Sahara as his rude fingers pinch the rubbery material between your legs and riiiiips—! Exposing you for just how soaked n’ pretty you were.

Oh. 

So drenched that just tearing your latex had you forming a damn puddle. Toji isn’t sure whether it’s the sex pollen or just fucking you that makes his heart race faster when he’s watching the slimy globs trickle from between your dewy, swollen folds. 

Throbbing so depravedly that he counts one, two, three adorable quivers of your pussy before finally speaking. 

“Fuck, I missed ‘er.” Toji’s seething between his teeth, already on fucking edge for letting himself go the what– seven months? without his only lady. He breathes in - gulping in that sugary smell of your cunt, and it’s so much. Too much, he’s nibbling on your sleek mask. “Fuck-”

“Y-you’re-”

You’re dazed, your puffy pouted lips glueing together with stupid drool and flapping wildly after the hero lowers himself to gift a wet, smacking kiss on your dripping outer pussy. “A kiss for her, aaaand-” 

Toji tastes you and he flinches. Just for a split-second before the creamy stickiness clinging to his lips presses onto yours-

“-a kiss for her.” Toji’s lapping the scratchy buds of his tongue to slither across your pouted lower lip, sloshing out beaded wads of your own sap. Sweet. “Mmmm- really did miss this hah- pretty mouth, sugar.”

“You’re damn filthy.” You kiss through barren glares, and Toji’s grasping at the crown of your mask to tilt your head back. To swat your throat with a weighty splosh! of saliva. 

“And you’re damn likin’ it. See?”

Fuck- you didn’t know if you even wanted to. Knowing damn well that it would be something enough to drive you into madness.

But, alas, for how relentless of a criminal you were - good always did win in the end, after all. 

Though, as Toji slaps his swollen fingertips over your slick-filled hole to watch the ribbons of slick leak and ooze a glittery gloss over his wrist, you really wondered whether this would have been more evil than good. 

You watched through cracked eyelids at the way Toji was certainly smirking like it was. Your watery eyes can’t look away– “T-Toji.”

“Mhmm–?” He’s gnawing on your sting-buzzed lips like a gummy, itching the top of your wobbly bottom lip with his sultry scar. You really did miss that textured feeling. 

“Want- want you.”

“Are you begging, wifey?”

And right now you couldn’t even bring yourself to correct him - only blubbering with your desperate tongue, incoherent soft gasps about ‘please’. Wrapping your arms unstably around his broad shoulders, you thumb at the sweat-dampened black curls hanging on the nape of his neck. 

Making sure to lock your heart-eyes deeply with his - Toji feels his entire body shudder. He feels his entire body wrack with vulgar shivers from head to toe when your dilated pupils come in direct contact with his own.

It isn’t even that damn sex pollen that makes his heavy tongue wash over with a simmering wave of spit just from the way you tilt your head n’ whine “Baby…”

Now you’ve done it– you’ve used that top secret weakness of his. Pet names. 

The moment the airy syllables leave your cunning lips, you watch as your ex-husband’s darkened eyes flap shut. As if he was holding himself back this entire time. A tick in his jaw growing, a blush on his face burning, and his response has you wondering whether this was really the Toji Fushiguro.

Whether it was really him with his usual bass so hoarse, higher. Wild. “E-evil.”

And it’s like the heat is hitting him tenfold, curdling inside him and culminating in an ultimate, big dollop of syrupy saliva that Toji’s meandering down between your folds. Saturating your pussy with yet another layer of slicked sap, he’s rubbing one of his globed thumbs riiight over the mess. 

“Count f’me, mama.” SMACK! He’s granting a tough pawprint of his fingers on the hood of your clit, grinning sleazily down at you. “Count.”

You feel your skin heat, swamping out a proper pool between your thighs at this point. “F-fuck y-youu- ngh!”

“What was that?” Toji hums, darkly. The cushioned bed dips and creaks! when he’s shifting sloooowly down the bed, closer to where you needed him the most. But so painfully slow. He finds himself snickering at the way your huffs grow louder in impatience. 

“O-one…”

Another filthy thwack, and another cracking whine departing from your slobbery lips. It reaches Toji’s ears like his favorite song and compels him to reward you with another. 

“Two- three.”

And another. 

“Four.”

And another. 

“Hck! Five- five five five-” You’re bucking your hips wildly into his clashing hand, and the slightest smear of his mountainous palm on your pussymound makes your legs twitch animalistically. You arch upwards in repeated grinds- Practically sobbing, from both ends, “Please, Toji- please.”

And it takes him exactly one more sullen spank on your fluttery nub to render you just starstruck enough for him to strike his knees against the floor without yourself noticing. The aching thud! reverberating Toji’s mahogany bedframe with just how urgent he was.

Rapid.

Desperate. 

Toji spends a good chunk of time simply admiring your body, his nostrils flaring with great gusto as he drinks in your fragrance. Like caramel candy. Dripping wet. You were so fucking pretty, and that was something that would never change. 

You’re feeling a sweltering sigh hit the very outside of your cunt, washing over you like a summer breeze right as Toji’s hollowed baritone rings out. “Missed me, kitty?”

Scrambling up onto your elbows with all and any remaining strength, the last thing you manage to see is fucking Toji Fushiguro - the dark knight, still in his snug suit - kneeling at the bedside as if he was worshipping you. 

His pinkish tongue flopped out to smear a little wetspot where your inner thighs were, peeking at you through his dark lashes. Drunken.

Before your head throws back and all you can hear is the plopping squelch! of Toji prying apart your adhesive-slicked folds. Stray snapped strands of sap hitting his plunging lips, he circles your sloppy hole exactly once ahead of bullying inside.

“O-oh my- oh my god.” You’re hiccuping out, white-hot stars of pleasure bursting behind your weighted lids at the sheer stretch.

Toji’s lecherous tongue laps at your entrance and reminds you of just how big he is – how loooong. You swear you feel like his wet muscle is never-ending when he’s smearing your pussylips widely agape to push n’ push n’ push.

Mazing his slobbery way through your mushy walls until the tip of his tastebuds prickled almost near your sweet spots. And he’s just as mean as you never got used to, thrusting in and out of your cunt before you can utter a word.

“Please…oh please-” You’re thrashing back into the slight hill of expensive velveteen bedsheets that had collected underneath your surging hips. 

Hands scrambling anywhere - everywhere - from the plush of his mattress, to clenching into fists, to creeping onto Toji’s bulky deltoids and reeling him in deeper-

“Oi, mind ya manners, wifey.” He’s stretching his tongue out wiiiide, swabbing the flattened fringes in a massage down your raw walls. It’s a scissoring sensation that leaves you sobbing for mercy, your cheek bitten in a desperate attempt to keep your composure. Failing. 

“But- but I want more.”

“More, huh?” Shit, he’s humping his hips ferally into the smooth bedstead, rolling his throb-throb-throbbing bulge into it so hard that his words start veering into a…growl. “My wife wants more- more more more.”

The invisible pollen sticks to you like gum, leaving you insatiable. 

A few steamy wads of drool trickle down your pussylips, and Toji makes sure to keep your fattened folds open so that he can slouch back for a second and watch the wads seep inside your hole. One beefy arm is all it takes to keep your legs open when you try to shut them cutely closed. 

You’re both holding direct eye-contact as he bites down on a snagged edge of his glossy gloves and draaaags it slowly off. Displaying your unfocused eyes with rugged, tannish skin. 

“How ‘bout a lil’ ‘thank you’, huh?” 

“Sh-shut up…”

“Spit in my mouth then-”

And when you reach over to, he’s slurping it allll up. Every translucent speckle. “Ungrateful girl.” He’s moaning into your pussy, and you gasp at the sensation of his honed fangs sinking around your pulsating clit and biting. “She’s h-happy to see me though, riiiight?”

And it was true. Your diveling pussy was on overdrive, pulse after pulse that let out the most conversational noises Toji would nod and hum along to. “Damn, mama- ya sure yer my ngh- ex-wife? Fuckin’ missed how wet she got.” Sopping out so many more luscious splotches of slick - raining, fountaining out and he still couldn’t get enough. 

You’re letting off whiny babbling mewls as you’re feeling Toji ladle out the clingy residue onto the capped tops of two fingertips. Pecking your quivering hole with a loud sluuuuurp, before he’s thickly stretching his way inside.

“Fuck- fuuuuuuck–!” You’re squealing, your cheek lolling further into the moist puddle of drool that was constantly escaping your poor maw. Insatiable. 

And it was safe to say that your pathetic pussy hadn’t experienced anyone as staggeringly big n’ girthy as Toji. Ever. Because all that solid fucking length on his fingers and he only had to slip inside the very sensory pads to get you to feel like the world was spinning.

“They’re- they’re so big–” You’re hiccuping out through the leaden ball stuck in your throat, and it’s hard enough to pitch your words up to an audible level over all the waterlogged squelches. 

So filthy, every damp inch inside of you curls up deliciously. He’s plugging your overspilling cunt up all the way to his knobbly knuckles, “S’that a compliment? From you?”

The bed shakes as Toji’s gyrating his hips even deeper, the plummy crown of his tip streaming out wet, syrupy smears of pre all across his overpriced mahogany.

You’re sinking deeper into the humid bed when he slaps his manicured crescents of fingernails right over the orifice of your g-spot. Oh. Pushing. Pleasing.

Delving purposefully deep to set you off maddeningly, “C’mon, sugar—-” Toji croons out, trawling his greedy tongue all over from the drenched crevices of your thighs to where your clit was all plump n’ perky. 

Delicately outlining the cutest of wet hearts on your leaky pussy, he swabs a targeted whack right into your g-spot and makes you cry– “Yeah- tha’s right. Tha’s right.” Breathy tone hurried, rough. “Heh- meow f’me, kitty.”

You swear you were about to open your stupid maw and teach him a thing or two - maybe about how you wanted more - you swear. But right at that very moment, Toji’s third finger eases in past your gushing walls and toys with the buttons of your g-spot just right.

Rendering your jaw permanently slack, your cunt smeared wide open - sap waterfalling out like it was nonstop. 

And all this time whilst Toji had been driving you to insanity with his right hand - oh, the man himself is fucking slobbering out viscid pearls of slobber as he brushes over the cold, cold wedding ring on his left hand over your clit and makes you arch—

He still had it?

“Please–” Your eyes moisten with big, salty tears, streaking down your face and making it so fucking difficult for Toji to keep himself from reaching over and licking them clean off. “M’not gonna last- fuck! M’not gonna…”

Ahhh, how cute. 

Unruly locks of his hair plastered onto his perspired head, you’re just barely able to make out the sassy roll of Toji’s eyes. “Where’s that stamina of yours- ngh- wifey?”

“Where are those fuuuuck! d-divorce papers–?”

“Ooooo, fuck- I’ve missed that damn mouth.” He almost fucking whines, bloated cock twitching. And thereafter every wet slap! of his lips is followed by a pained grunt, every thud of his fingers deep into your goopy pussy crazed. Toji’s taking all of you - everything he can. 

Making up for how many nights he’s fucking missed you, he twinges his frigid ring over your sensitive nub and pinches. All the way until your fleshy clit scorches with heat, painful n’ yet so good. “Mmm– seems like heh- someone’s gonna cum–” 

And, shit, it might just be the both of you right about now — but your pretty self didn’t have to know that right now.

Every sloppy clench of your soft insides squeezing instinctively ‘round him only made Toji’s fat balls even tighter. Fuller. And the completely primal sounds ripping out of you are nothing if not sexy.

Only growing louder. Faster. 

Your tight ring stings with the ramming slams of his rounded knuckles hitting again and again.

Toji wheezes out a slurring few mumbles over your clit and your toes curl. Pushing your hips back to glue your oversaturated folds lecherously against his scarred lips. Itching yeeeearningly over n’ over your shaky pussy. Your tummy flutters carnally as he rasps, “Go on then. C-cum f’me, mama- cum goddammit.”

The pollen was scorching him– making him starved. 

And the sheer bliss that overtakes your body and makes you shake is ridiculous. Like something buried deep inside of you snaps–

“Cumming—” You trill out shrillingly, “Cumming cumming cumming– fuuuck, baby–!”

“I already know, kitty.”

Toji’s already crushing the massive bulge tenting his pants against the polished bedframe, hungrily lapping up every spurt, every twitch, every ounce of sappy slick that angrily swashed out of you. And ohhhh, this was heaven on Earth.

His lips were stinging at this point, drinking up all the ribbons of translucent juices that slipped down his tongue like a lacquer. He was so thoroughly at home, making out away between your pretty tremblin’ legs.

The edges of his pearly whites getting caught on your tender clit and sopping out your large splashes of sap even more feverishly. “So fuckin’ sweeeet, my wife.”

Toji lets his pointed chin droop open to smear over the very base of your treacly pussy, creaming all out into his steaming hot mouth. He’s drifting the metallic band of his ring over your hole - soaked with a thin layer of perspiration and smooching your clit with the buttony tip of his nose. 

Spitting, just to watch the drenched way in which it spills out of your flooded entrance, Toji’s dark lashes shutter as it sprays a glittery sheen all over his sexy features.

“H-heh- clean your act up, mama.” Toji husks out, his clenched teeth gleaming with so many multiple laminations of dripping wet slick. Your sweet cunt was so filthy, and he can’t help but let out a wild, unrestrained laugh– “Should punish ya for this fuckin’ mess.”

And you’re barely even done with the Earth-shattering highs of your orgasm, toes still curling every time the teasing tip of his tongue flickers in and out of your hole a few recurring times. 

Thighs tremoring as you shake out an unsteady, “Y-you made it.”

“That I did.” Another swopping slap, and Toji pulls himself off with a wet plop! It’s so fuckin’ loud, because that’s just how drenched you were, he hisses at the vicious spanks of stranded slick hitting his face. Grunting out - because oh, he missed you already.

Couldn’t stop himself from departing a throaty groan and kissing your dripping cunt again. And again. And again. Snog after slippery snog. 

He’s panting out in scorched syllables, “Really fuckin’ missed my hah- wife’s pretty pussy.”

“I’m not-”

“After this?” His smile was so smug as he finally – finally, managed to reel in ‘nough self-control to actually pull away. Making such an exaggerated show of sucking his thick, sopping wet digits all the way from his knuckles to the very tip. Satisfied, “You sure…wifey?”

Your needy hips twitch from the last few dredges of your high, “M’your ex- oh.”

And yet, you can’t even defend your honor - not when Toji starts shedding that stupid hero suit of his and he looks like that.

Ohhh, all the way from head-to-toe. One by one. The yellowish oval of his Batman logo almost splitting straight in half when it snags on one of his ridged obliques. And fuck– you certainly did miss this - maybe you wouldn’t really mind his renewal of your titles…

Your eyes rovered all greeeedily to take in the swole puff of his broad pecs, spine curved deliciously in a slight ‘S’ from his muscular back to his sinful waistline. 

Shit, he wasn’t even wearing much underneath his suit. 

Nothing other than a tight, stuffed underwear that didn’t hide much- anything, actually. You’re ogling unblinkingly at the raven curls that stick out in a rugged happy trail. Bumpin’ up and down his exact eight washboard abs and tufting out at his swollen base.

Taking his sticky boxers off.

Fuck…

The bed dips and sings out creaking praises as Toji splays his bulky, capped knees on either side and meets you somewhere in the middle. Close. 

Manspread so vulgarly that you can count the precise number of times his biiiig cock bobs up n’ down, you’re gasping at the sheer way he seems to have grown. Because surely Toji Fushiguro wasn’t always this massive, right? 

Swollen. All proudly near damn ten or eleven inches and covered in decorative zig-zags of veins, he was so fucking hard that his glistening shaft was twitching with every pounding ba-dump–! of his pulse. 

Your mouth waters as you take in the overwhelming streams of warm, see-through pre that was frosting his reddish crownhead in a thickly cap. Aching to be inside you. So fucking hot. Burning. 

Toji was as bloated as a ripe strawberry and just as pink, you’re licking your lips at the lewd wonderment of whether or not his firm, mushroomed tip would taste like it, too. And before you know it, you’re crawling slyly to where he was kneeled on the bed. 

Your kiss-bruised lips just flopping on top of his curvaceous head to give a sweltering, steamy smooch before–

“Fuh-fuuuuck! Nuh uh, mama…” Sparkly dewdrops of sweat swing to and fro as Toji shakes his head vehemently. Curling a soft hand at your throat and manhandling you to lay out flat on the puffy mattress, “Now.”

It’s all that’s said – it’s all that has to be said.

And by the grating, gone tonality sticking to his words, your husband meant it. 

Not even soon enough.

Especially once he’s getting his hands on the glossy fabric of your catsuit and teeearing it all down into unapologetic tatters. Thrown all over his messy floor, Toji can’t help but admire that gorgeous body he’s thought about night after night after night.

“T-Toji–” You’re whimpering impatiently, and it takes only the slightest buck of your hips for him to lug over a meaty knee and press it down on your slobbering pussymound. 

Your silvery slit slopping out a glistening splotch right where his capped limb was pinning you down with pressure. Hard. Though, honestly, it doesn’t even take much of his ripped muscles to hold you still.

“Eeeasy. Easy there, sugar.” He spits into your saggingly ajar mouth. And only nanosecond later you’re stung with the striking clap! of his ballooned-up length falling on your dribbling pussylips. Rubbing over the tender flesh with his wiry, tamed hairs, “Jus’ wanna nghh- admire my wife a lil’.”

Shit, you almost forgot what a complete tease he was.

Sandwiching his cylindrical length between your raw folds - he’s almost warming his vicious hips up. Sliding loooong drags of his blushing tip up and down your teary slit, you were so helplessly needy underneath him. 

Smack! Smack! Smack! There he went spanking your nubbed clit with a few prodding veins of his, one after the other. 

And he’s skimming a fat thumb to watch your frothing hole even better, slabbing your cunt with another slab of spittle through titters. Taking a countless deep inhale of your sweet, sweet scent.

Pure heat.

“Ad-admire me later—” You’re sounding out your complaints so prettily, droplets of tears starting to accumulate by the edges of your droopy gaze. Just simply soaked through, your mouth overspills with saccharine water to catch up to the rest. Needed it. You needed this.

“So you admit it?”

“Wh-ngh- what?”

“Admit that you’re m-my…” You almost don’t have the privilege of hearing the rest of Toji’s smug grumbles because of the way he promptly aligns himself on the target of your dripping cunt. Of the way he slouches forward, your ears popping once he sinks in– “-wife.”

And oh, for how full Toji was leaving you with only his sheer size - cramming n’ cramming his solid fucking length desperately - the hero was stuffing you only fuller when he eases a red, swollen inch and cums.

You’re hearing it before you register it - that sickly sweet sluuuurp of being filled to the utter brim. Your poor, gummy walls ram with so many knotted wads of cum that you feel dizzy. Stretching, stretching, stretching until the tautness pulled by his snaggling veins bloats even further with the splosh of thick seed. Filling you up. 

He was ruthless on a normal day, but with the pollen he was merciless. Leaving none alive. 

“T-Tooooji–!” You yowl out at the poke of his fattened, bludgeoning tip scraping your insides deeply. He wasn’t going easy on you. At all. No, you were going to take it. 

Your eyes widen a fraction at the scalding trickle of goopy seed that was pouring out of you, buttering your lips with frosty white icing. One of your fingers twitch to smear a mess of the puddle, “Did- did you just c-”

“Move that damn hand.”

“Wha-”

“I said-” Toji leans in close enough that you can count every strand of gold in his jade eyes, dark brows furrowing. And you’re not quite sure that the fire in his gaze is solely because of the pollen, “-move that damn hand.”

Before you can make a singular motion, his calloused hand dips down and rudely swats away your curious fingers. 

And then Toji thumbs your pussy open to spit– once on your gaping pussy, once in your mouth. Tilting your stupid mouth shut with a flick to your chin and bottoming out. 

Loooong and slow so that you can feel your dribbling nooks and crannies massage all down with the lightning bolts of his prodding veins. Such deep, magical spots he’s discovering just by hitting the juts of his hip bones to your front - just trying to fit his thick cock inside. 

Smacking and smacking. 

And was so fucking big. You can’t stop the tiny whimpers that leave you every time he’s funneling your pretty lil’ cunt with such a large, barreling length. Just the feeling of his hefty weight sagging your walls had your knees buckling, his tip reaching scorched insides only known to him.

Oh, it was all so familiar having his fat breeder balls nuzzling your sensitive lips, and with a content hum Toji rests the weight of his sweat-glossed abs down onto your front. 

His spit-sheened lips hovering over the heated curve of your ear, whispering. “We’re gonna have the ngh- cutest kids, wifey.”

Toji claws one of his engulfing hands on the matted, bedraggled mess of your scalp, and you gasp at the twitch of his big, bulging biceps pushing you down. Fitted all the way to his fat hilt, and he’s still bucking and bucking. 

“Oh- ohhhh fuck!” You wail with every plump pinprick of his geysering divot streaking out long lines of precum along your dewy wet walls. Wobbly legs pushing off the bed, “You’re so big- nghhh you’re so big.”

He’s cracking a lewd smile at the way you’re already running away from his rummaging stretches - and he hasn’t even started putting his back into it yet, seriously. 

“C’mere, kitty kitty~” As if you could even think about running away from him. His own bloated cock stiffens at the way that lil’ nickname makes your glassy eyes widen, using the diversion swiftly to grip your throat and pull.

Spearheading your sap-soaked channel open until the four walls reverberated like an orchestra of your carnal squeals.

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck fuck fuuuck–! You’re in s-sooo deep–”

“Ya think that’s deep?”

Shit, your gaping drenched hole is gulping down so many barreling inches and he’s still pounding in more. More and more and more squeezing in past your tight muscle, and batting at the bullseye of your cute g-spot.

Trailing a hand over to poke where his bumpy tip was pressing pretty pecks on your sweetest spots, the crest of his shaft slips n’ slides until it reaches your spongy cervix to give a good, long prod. 

“Ya loooove it here, huh?” He’s huffing, hips slamming into yours so hard that you could feel the ridden heat. You could see the blushing red stains where his fleshy mounds were papping against yours. Red n’ raw. “Can practically hear that k-kitty ngh- purring, mama.”

And Toji’s version of “purring” were those slimy wet splashes that emanated non-stop from your pussy. Ringing up and out so roughly that you couldn’t even wrap your cottony mind ‘round just how hard Toji was fucking you.

Like he hated you.

When it was anything but. 

With a dark, quirked brow at the way your maw unfastens when he picks up speed. “Yeah? Yeah? Louder, mama, louder.”

Every hit was a homerun, precisely. Toji’s knees part your legs to crumble open so far apart that the muscles of your inner thighs burned. With both friction and stretch.

He looks down at you with a lipstick-stained smile, sexy even when he isn’t even trying to be. “Maaan, I m-missed this sight, my wife.” Huskily, he grips his way to your hips and manhandles you to thrust even deeper. “Missed this pussy— never been the s-same hck! without ya, sugar.”

Toji’s tenderly leaving the wholly bruising marks of his thickened digits all over your throat, making sure to pivot his hips so that your throbbing clit catches on his textured happy trail. Swervin’ to and fro right as he buries himself to the entire base. Pounding you open spaciously. 

You’re molded oh-so-voluminously spread to take his exact hits that your jaw hangs agape, eyes woozily criss-crossing - and it wasn’t even the sex pollen that had you like this. 

“Sh-shooo good—” You’re bawling out, and it’s so cute how your pussy dribbles even wetter when Toji bends his plank position to massage you with his washboard abs.

Juuust the way he knew you liked it.

A sheened layer of sweat transfers from Toji’s sultry, sliiiiding muscles to yours. Making those raggedly-run vocals of yours pitch into something broken while you ached out more n’ more of that deeply carnal scratch of his puffy bubble-gum pink nipples massaging your own tits. His toned pelvis batter-ramming away as he pleased. 

He hits perfectly at your g-spot once more, honing in on it over and over until you’re left sputtering on the hammered glazes of drool that coats your dry mouth. “M-missed you- ngh! toooo–!” 

One of your eager hands tug on one of his smooth, sensitive nub and Toji damn near cums. His mouth - oh, his scarred mouth was curving into the most accomplished smile. 

Splotching your own sloppy lips - missing the gasping cavern of your mouth, purposefully. Just so Toji could watch the showy way his glob of spit splatters the ends of your twitchy maw, while he counted every plap plap plap. 

“H-heh–” Though, the tips of Toji’s ears blush primally red. “Knew it. Knew ya missed- missed me…Probably couldn’t go a haaaah- second without thinkin’ of me, hmmm?”

Grumbling out something incoherent as he kisses the tender side of your neck, something along the lines of a pathetically pitched “C-cocky bast…ard.”

“Wha’s that now?” Free hand toying over your clit, other tightening on your neck.

“Fuh-f–”

“Fuuuuh–?” Toji’s naturally chiseled chest ripples as he keeps mocking you from above. And even the ridged curve of his heavy cock was drowning out your thoughts with utterly fuzzy cockdrunkenness. 

It takes you a long while - and a vulgar few plaps of achingly hard, gloss-dribbling cock - for you to finally manage out. “F-fuck you.”

And ohhh, Toji Fushiguro isn’t a masochistic man - but hearing those rude words come out of your beautiful lips always did make his overworked hips shiver dangerously. Closely. 

“I’m fucking you, mama.”

He was hot.

Soooo hot. Scalding you. Drilling into you like he was out of control— so hard that one-two-three slaps strike you in sloppy succession, almost every nanosecond. Pushing you further and further up the rickety headboard, swashing around the thick, milky cum snugly pumped inside you until you were dripping from the inside out. 

Stupid enough to murmur out a thick, “Then c-cum- cum inside me–”

“Ohhh now you’re talkin’ outta ya fuuuck- pussy?” He’s gritting out, tense abdomen pinning you down further so all the chatty gusts of air leave your throat. “Shut up n’ cum f’me, wifey.”

And shit- Toji himself didn’t think that would fucking work like it used to.

Your poor, infatuated pussy still so deeply in love with him that they’re basically melding into the perfect heart shape inside when you reach your high. 

Toji feels it first with the way your gluey-like walls cling onto his sensitive, plunging shaft like never before. Slouching forwards to sniff in your candied scent with a groan, “Atta girl. Aaaatta girl, jus’ like- like that- cum allll for your ngh! husband.”

You’re already so sensitive from your last high that this one hits you like five semi-trucks at once, and your head tumbles uselessly backwards into the silk-covered pillows. Vision blacking out near the edges - and all you can concentrate on was Toji Toji Toji.

This wasn’t even the sex pollen’s fault - you just needed him so bad. 

“Inside- inside-”

“H-heh, my cockdrunk wife. If I c-cum ngh! inside m’reeeally gonna wife ya up.”

“T-Tooooji–!” It falls from your mouth as if a sinful mantra, and you’re hiccuping with every prominent vein of his cock rubbing the insides of your tense spots. Ramming. Pulsing. “Look- look at me.”

Toji could barely even flap his eyes open but oh, was he looking at you.

Through predatory, half-lidded eyes that devoured you. “Mhm— Toji’s here, Toji’s here. Your husband’s here, sugar.”

One of your hands slithers up to the sweat-wetted locks of his black hair, other caressing Toji’s left pectoral. To thumb your thick fingerpad over his rosy nipples, and to also feel the ba-dump–! of his rapidly increasing heartbeat. You’re mumbling into his plump lips, “You’re catnip to a g-girl like me. Wan’ you inside.” Nuzzling his flush scorched cheek, “I still hngh! love you, y’know-”

Fuck. 

The syllables are barely dangling off of your slimy tastebuds before Toji’s finally finishing - inside you. 

And it’s so sloppy.

If you thought that Toji was making a mess before, then this made you realize that he was - in fact - holding back. The strawberry end of his red, red shaft roaming your sodden walls until he knocks against the door to your womb and cums.

Straight As for his aim, a great dollop of buttery seed starts piling up right where your g-spot is. And your cute cunt is stretched out wiiide on the slathers of ribbony sap he pumps you full with.

Your walls spreeeead.

All the way to the brim. Your head starts spiralling at just how full you felt - you didn’t know it was even possible, and yet, here you were. The tummy bulge Toji was fucking from the inside only inflating bigger by the second, cute lil’ knots of cum swirled ‘round and ‘round by his swollen tip.

With a face burying right into the clammy crook of your neck, he’s hiding away the cherry blush on his cheekbones. 

But you could already feel the thin trickle of drool spilling from either side of his parted mouth, feel Toji’s Adam’s apple rip with a whimper–

“S-still love you- too, mama.” He’s kneeing open your legs further to make sure you take every last drop. Breathless at the glued-together skin of your thighs, stained all creamy white with his seed. His own bulky thighs twitch whilst he bucked, all milking himself out. “Always- always have. Always will.”

You find the wet insides of your mouth sizzling by the time Toji’s wrung his tender, twitching balls free from every teensy tiny drop of cum he had to give your starving pussy. 

Though, still rolling his hips lazily into yours, still pressing the damp skin of his forehead into your own– his calloused fingertips break apart from your neck to give the pearly dewdrops of juices pouring from your slit a lil’ smear. 

Languidly trailing up, up, up until he cups that protruding bumpy outline - drawing an adorable heart out of his warmly slicked mess. 

“N’- m’gonna- ngh- gonna love our d-daughter j-jus’ as much.” He’s whispering through a low, almost reverent tone. So sure it’s going to be a girl. His girl. His daughter. Both of yours. “She could be our Robin.”

Your heart swells, and you’re just about to breathe in Toji’s piney, sweetened smell you loved so much - until he plugs his candy-glazed fingers in his mouth to suck, before promptly reaching underneath the very pillow you were laid out on. 

And within the blink of an eye, you’re staring at one of the biggest sparkly diamonds you’ve seen your entire life - your wedding ring. One to match his. 

“Always kept ya c-close ta me, my wife.” Toji murmurs. Gently grasping your hands to slide the cool band onto your finger, while he still fucked you through the last few lecherous throes of his high.

His emerald, half-open eyes stare deeply into yours as the ring sits rightfully in its home after so long. His shaggy bangs falling over your own eyes, Toji connects his forehead with yours. “Always will.”

And you already knew that the sex pollen wasn’t long-lasting, that it was firmly and happily fucked out of your system.

Yet, you still partially blame it for the way it takes you all of two split-seconds to push Toji from his shoulders until his back hits the back with a springy whoosh! A surprised gasp retreating from his scarred lips, turning into a growl once he catches sight of the thiiiick oodles of cum that gushed down your legs. Doubly full. 

“S’gonna hafta hah! take if we’re gonna have a daughter.” You’re musing, a greedy smirk playing on your lips. 

Seating yourself down slowly, slowly, sensually to do an experimental figure eight on his overstimulated, ruby-red cock. Still so hard, but hitting your cervix with a line of wispy cum - just from seeing you like this.

What was it he said–? Ah yes, he always did like having you on top of him.

Toji interlocks your trembly fingers with his so that he could leave a loving peck on your clinking wedding rings. And you’re purring, “Better not tap out now, Batman.”

Yeahhh, he’s marrying you again tomorrow first thing. If you two make it alive by then, that is. 

“W-wouldn’t dream of it, Catwoman.”

.

.

.

And then just about nine months later; when your darling baby boy, Megumi, is born- well, your overeager husband only sleazes that you try and try and try again. He always did want a big Bat Family.

A/N. TOLD Y’ALL I’D DO IT. Also my period started RIP send help.

Plagiarism not authorized.

[goatgoesmbe]

poly!141 x f!reader idea

Where everyone is a loser, except for Gaz.

And you.

Gaz got all the rizz, he was definitely the one doing all the work to get them all together. It took a while, and it was agony for him. Long conversation of awkward flirting, quiet glances where they would look away if their eyes met, and don't even ask him about the sex.

But.. somehow, everything worked out in the end.

Then came you, the pretty thing who had just got recruited to the taskforce. You, who immediately became the talk of everyone on base, the cute medic that got everyone courting left and right. The new primadona.

Just like everyone else, Gaz had an eye for beauty. And it seemed like his lovers had the same idea from how they turned from a pragmatic, respectable soldiers to a pathetic, blushing mess just from your presence alone.

And just like before, it made sense for Kyle to be the one who would pursue you. To charm his way into your heart (and pants), before introducing you to everyone else.

Because Price thought approaching you to talk about work count as flirting. Thinking what was important was spending more time with you, no matter what was the reason. Hoping you'd eventually notice his feelings concealed in the questionable amount of paperwork handed to you.

Ghost would follow you around from a safe distance. Staring at you with that look. The kind of unsettling look he usually directed at his target, like you were an enemy's operative instead of a potential partner. Gaz didn't understand what his lieutenant's plan was, maybe he was trying to communicate with you telepathically? Gaz didn't know.

Soap was- well.. either he would embarrass himself so bad, or you would report him to the higher up for sexual harassment.

And with that, it made sense for Gaz to make the move. He was the best candidate- no, the only reasonable candidate for this.

He knew he was attractive, and charming. So this would be easy, right?

Nope.

What he didn't know was, you were so used to having casanovas trying to woo you. So it got boring after a while.

You preferred to be the player instead of the pawn. And so, you simply brushed off all of his advances. Because your type of man was actually the pathetic kind.

And so, Gaz could only watch as you took the drink he bought for you before approaching the others who tried (and failed) to act casual, like they weren't spying at all.

Price was focused with his phone in his hands.. which was upside down.

Soap was.. inspecting a wall like he was at an art exhibition.

While Ghost just stood still as if no one could see him if he didn't move.

...

If he was being honest? Gaz was a bit offended. It was kind of his first time facing rejection. But as they said, there was a first for everything.

And of course, he didn't make a scene, didn't give up on the game because well why should he?

He wasn't disappointed. Because in the end, whoever you chose first, you'd end up with all of them. They were a package after all.

a/n: despite whats written here- the fic is actually gonna focus more on Gaz x reader lolol- some kind of multichap porn rival to lover (?). well I said that but the porn with Gaz wont happen til the very end- does that make sense. probably wont write more than 2 short chapters

[sturnioz]

─────── ꒰ THE FRAT WEDDING SERIES ꒱ 3

its the weekend of another frat event — also known as shy!reader and fratboy!chris' fake wedding day.

꒰ part one ꒱ ꒰ part two꒱

you know a frat wedding would be nothing like a real wedding—that you're certain of.

but this...?

yeah... this is something else entirely.

standing at the far end of the long garden behind the frat house, you feel your jaw go slack, and your eyes grow wide as you take in the sight before you: the frat brothers have gone all out in the most chaotic way possible... and you really shouldn't be that surprised.

but holy shit.

the decoration are... dramatic. there's a massive arch made of empty beer cans and red solo cups that stands a bit crookedly at the centre of the garden, draped with plastic flowers and what looks suspiciously like toilet paper. strands of fairy lights—which you're positive are from the christmas box—are thrown across the yard, tangled in the trees and hanging from the house.

a makeshift aisle stretches down the middle, marked with mismatched chairs on either side. some of the chairs are folding chairs, while the others are lawn chairs... beanbags... and bar stools taken from the kitchen.

at the end of the aisle, there's a table draped with a wrinkled white bedsheet, and on top of it sits random items—a plastic tiara, a bottle of vodka, a stack of red cups, and a cake.

the backyard is crammed with people—all of the frat brothers are here, and the usual guests that come to each frat party and event. and god... none of them are no better than the decorations.

they're all dressed differently, like they were given such vague instructions and just ran with it. a few of the boys are in full suits and ties, looking smart, though they're all wearing sneakers with their tux.

others have taken such an opposite route; showing up in crop tops and jean shorts paired with goofy props like oversized sunglasses and inflatables. you're positive there's a brother in a hot dog costume, standing near the makeshift alter like he's been tasked with something super important.

you glance around, teeth gnawing at the bottom of your lip as you try to process the sheer absurdity of it all. it's loud—music blasting from a set of speakers on the porch, a chaotic playlist of all types of songs that gives you a little headache.

your gaze flits over to the 'guests' sitting on either side of aisle. most of them are holding drinks, laughing and talking loudly. a few are already visibly tipsy, and one guy is swaying on his beanbag chair with a lopsided grin, sloshing his drink all over his shorts.

you swallow hard, your nerves growing as you stand there, frozen and overwhelmed by everything that's happening around you. you... want to go home. immediately.

"well.. don't you look pretty," a voice drawls out, and you turn your head to see nate sliding up to your left. he's dressed in a suit and tie, but the effect is completely ruined by the pink flamingo glasses perched on the bridge of his noise.

you peer down at yourself, smoothing your hands nervously over your white babydoll dress that kitty helped pick out. the soft fabric feels light under your fingertips, but your stomach twists with nerves as your hands find each other, fingers fidgeting.

when you finally look back up, nate has pushed the glasses onto the top of his head, his expression a little serious as he studies you.

"y'look like you're gonna puke, bun."

"i... think i might."

"okay, well, let's not do that, yeah?" nate places his hands firmly on your shoulders, giving them a gentle, reassuring rub. his voice softens just a bit as he continues, "look. this shit is all fake, a'ight? s'just for fun. people are only here for the free drinks, anyway."

you twist your lips into a frown, "i'm going to be stared at..." you whisper, your gaze dropping to the ground. "i'm getting—"

"hoooooly shit. what the fuck are you doin' here?"

nate's voice cuts you off, his tone shifting to disbelief, and your eyebrows knit together in curiosity as you glance over your shoulder, your eyes widening when you spot nick strolling up to the two of you.

"you're hilarious if you think i'm going to miss something like this," nick scoffs as he comes to stop in front of you both, adjusting the camera strap hanging around his neck lazily. "but i'm also here to take pictures for my class. smile."

you blink at him, still trying to process the fact that nick—who's made it known that he avoids the frat house as much as he possibly can—has willingly shown up to this event. but his presence comforts you, and you can't help the small smile that tugs at your lips when he lifts the camera to take the picture.

it's been an hour into the event, and you've already spotted chris who is surrounded by a group of familiar and unfamiliar faces, doing his usual business—selling his drugs.

you half expected him to show up in sweatpants and a hoodie, but to your utter surprise, he's wearing a suit. a real suit.

it's not perfect; his tie is slightly crooked, and he's paired the look with a pair on black converses... but he's pulled it off in a way that really works. his hair, messy as always, looks like he's run his fingers through it a dozen times already.

and for some reason, he looks... pretty nice.

you catch yourself staring for a moment too long before quickly looking away, warmth rising to your cheeks. you know better than to admit how good he looks to his face, and you know better than to walk up and interrupt him while he's doing his thing too. so, you stay in place, trying your best to focus on the conversation happening around you with nick, nate, bee, matt and kitty.

you try to participate, chiming in when someone compliments your dress or your makeup, but your attention keeps drifting. and it's super hard not to notice chris out of the corner of your eye, especially when he moves.

he's pushing his way through the crowd, his fingers raking through his hair, tousling it even more, and there's an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach when you realise he's heading in your direction.

"can we get this shit over with?" he grumbles the second he stands beside you, his voice low and rough as he tugs uncomfortably at the tie around his neck, his fingers working to loosen it even more than it already is.

"um..." you glance at him, then at the others in your group, who've all gone quiet as their attention is split between the two of you.

chris doesn't seem to care, his focus is entirely on you, his eyes scanning your face briefly before he runs his tongue across his teeth. "m'serious. let's get this shit over with before i fuckin' lose it."

you bite the inside of your cheek, unsure how to respond. there's some part of you that wants to surprisingly huff at his attitude, but there's another part—the shyness and the uncomfortableness that gnaws at you—that stops you.

instead, you settle for a quiet, hesitant nod. "okay."

nate smarmily grins beside you, clearly having had too much to drink already. "damn, bro... eager to tie the knot already?"

chris shoots him a glare, his jaw tightening. "don't push it."

while the others jab back and forth, you glance down, shifting uncomfortably as everything settles in. it's only fake, you remind yourself. just some stupid frat tradition that you happened to get roped into for 'fun'.

but the way chris stands so close, his shoulder brushing yours... it has you wondering why your heart is suddenly beating so fast.

when the time comes, you find yourself walking down the makeshift aisle, flanked by two frat brothers who are dramatically throwing fake money onto the ground. your ears feel like they're ringing, and your heart pounds so fast it feels like it's trying to escape your chest.

every pair of eyes is glued to you, making your skin crawl with self-consciousness. some people are recording you while others are giggling drunkenly, their laughter echoing. then there are some of the girls, their eyes narrowed into sharp slits as they watch you.

jealousy, kitty had said earlier when she helped you get ready. you were confused, unsure of why anyone would feel jealous about this insane situation. you still don't really understand it, and honestly, you don't really have it in you to find out why.

by the time you reach the end of the aisle, you're standing directly in front of chris beneath the archway, and the sight of him makes you throat tighten. he's looking away from you, his tongue prodding at his cheek in obvious annoyance, and your gaze immediately drops anywhere but his face.

the 'officiant'—another frat brother who's clearly had too much to drink—stumbles forward, holding a plastic clipboard like it's an official document. he slurs his words as he greets everyone to the event, and his speech is filled with jokes, some of which don't even make sense to you, but the crowd eats it up anyway, laughing and cheering him on.

when it's time for the 'vows', all eyes turn to you.

your hands find each other instinctively, your fingers fidgeting as your nerves spike. you try to remember what kitty and bee had told you earlier, their voices encouraging you to keep it light-hearted but kind.

you tell chris that you'll always be there for him—a friend in need—and you try to make it funny in your own way, throwing in small jokes as much as you possibly can. the crowd laughs, their giggles and applause giving you a small boost of confidence, but when you glance at chris, you realise he isn't laughing.

of course he isn't.

his expression remains flat, almost bored, as he stares past you toward the crowd. it's exactly what you expected... but it still stings a little.

when you finally finish your last line, you feel the weight lift off your shoulders as the attention shifts from you to chris, and you let out a small breath of relief, glad to be out of the spotlight.

but that relief is short-lived.

"bun," he says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, and your stomach drops at his next words. "i vow to uh... keep fuckin' you. keep makin' you scream my name."

the crowd immediately hollers, their laughter and applauses erupting so loudly it's almost deafening.

he continues, his words lewd and crude, each one hitting you like a slap in the face. he keeps talking about your sex life in front of people, about how he'll keep making you cum until you're a mess, how he'll always make you squirm and squeal, how he'll keep making your pussy wet and so on.

your face burns hot, and the sounds from the crowd only makes it worse, amplifying the humiliation that's tightening in your chest. you want to disappear, to curl in on yourself—anything to escape what's going on right now.

when he finally finishes, he looks completely unbothered, his hands shoved into the pockets of his pants like nothing just happened.

while the others continue to applaud and cheer drunkenly, your gaze flicks over to your little group. matt, kitty and nick all look visibly annoyed, their expressions dark and displeased while bee and nate wince as they cling to each other, their discomfort clear in the way they exchange uneasy glances.

the frat brother officiant says something, but you barely hear it over the pounding of your own heartbeat. you only flinch slightly when he places a crooked plastic tiara on your head, the cheap plastic awkwardly digging into your scalp before shoving a bottle of vodka into chris' hands.

you don't wait around to hear what happens next. you turn on your heel and push through the crowd of people as they stagger up to chris, their voices fading behind you.

your eyes burn, tears bubbling up and blurring your vision as you rush toward the frat house. you don't know why you're crying. maybe it's the humiliation—the sheer embarrassment of standing there listening to what chris had to say. or maybe it's the frustration of knowing that everyone saw it happen, their laughter like salt in an open wound.

your throat tightens painfully, and for a second, you think you might actually throw up. the thought of seeing anyone—facing anyone—makes your stomach churn violently.

you're almost to the house, just a few steps away from disappearing inside, when a hand suddenly catches your wrist, yanking you back.

before you can even make it inside the frat to be by yourself for a while, a hand latches onto your wrist, pulling you back.

you stumble slightly, your shoes catching awkwardly, and you have to blink through your tears to make out the face in front of you. it's kitty, and she's frowning deeply, her brows furrowing in concern as she holds onto you firmly.

behind her, you catch sight of nick and matt close behind, their expressions unreadable but serious. bee and nate come rushing up a moment later, both panting and out of breath.

you open your mouth to speak, to tell them you're fine—even though you're not—but the words don't come out. instead, kitty steps closer, her hand sliding from your wrist to your shoulder as she gently pulls you into her arms.

her hug is soft but firm, and as soon as her arms wrap around you, something inside you breaks.

your hands grip the fabric of her dress tightly, your fingers trembling as pathetic little whines escapes your lips. you press your face into her chest, trying to muffle the quiet sobs that follow, but it's no use.

you're crying—fully breaking down in her embrace, and there's nothing you can do to stop it.

divider credits. @issysh3ll

@ STURNIOZ

[staytinyzen]

(Mis)delivered Confessions

Bff!San x gn Reader no gender mentioned for reader (Friends to lovers trope)

Sending a message to the wrong person.

Warnings: slight cursing for the first part? Ig that’s it

Word count: ~ 900

Part 1 | Part 2

You were lying on your sofa legs draped over the armrest, typing on your phone as you helped your friend draft a confession text.

"Y/N, I can't do this! There's no way I can tell him!" she almost yelled through the speaker.

“Girl, chill. You're overthinking it. You just have to be honest. What could go wrong?" you replied, half-listening as you typed out a possible confession for her to send.

She had been crushing on a guy in her class who she befriended on the first day but didn’t know how to take the relationship further, she was freaking out so she asked for your help before losing her mind.

“Hi, this might be random and maybe not the best time but I've been holding this in for a while… I really like you. Every time I see you, I feel like my heart is gonna explode, I can't stop thinking about you. If you’re not feeling the same, I hope this won’t change a thing in our relationship and we can continue being friends…”

You glanced over the message, feeling satisfied. You hit send.

“There, I wrote it. All you have to do is send it. Easy, right?” You said happily.

“Thank you I’ll try, can you send it?”

You were confused, “Girl I just did ?”

“I cannot see it can you send it again ?”

“Wait…” You sat up straight on your couch and looked at your phone screen.

And then... sheer horror.

Because the name at the top of the chat wasn't hers.

It was “Sannie^⩊^”

Your best friend.

Your neighbor.

“Oh fuck…” you really fucked up.

“Oh no. Oh no no no no!” you groaned, scrambling to your feet as panic set in.

Your friend asked what was happening as she had no clue what was going on.

“Oh no I did not just do that”

“Just tell me what’s happening!”

“I did actually send the message but not to you but to San… OH MY GOD!! I can’t delete it either, I have to tell him it’s not meant for him, I’m so dumb”

San.

The person you had spent countless nights watching movies with, stealing food from, and leaning on when life got rough—whether that meant venting about a bad day, sitting in comfortable silence, or simply knowing he was there, always ready to catch you when you stumbled.

Panicked, you scrambled to type:

"Wait!! That wasn’t for you! OMG, please ignore that!!"

Ironically, while pushing your friend to confess to this guy, you were pushing your own feelings to the side, not wanting to lose him, the person you cared about the most and loved so much that you preferred ignoring whatever you felt.

Yeah, great job. So much for telling your friend "it's easy" and the whole "what could go wrong?" speech.

You were panicking, even if you were to explain the situation, things would be awkward.

Soon enough three dots appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

You stared blankly at your screen.

You felt like you might throw up.

“I’ll call you later okay ?” You ended the call without waiting for her response, her crush can wait a bit.

You were still standing in the middle of your living room not knowing what to do.

Suddenly your phone buzzed:

Sannie^⩊^: “Oh. Got it”

That was it? Just “Oh. Got it”?! No teasing? No jokes? He always teased you!

Your phone buzzed again.

Sannie^⩊^ : “Who was it for?”

Your breath caught. For some reason, you didn’t want to explain the whole situation it felt too… complicated. It really wasn’t meant for him but what if it was the universe just pushing you because you’ve been hiding for a long time yet you weren’t ready for that.

So you took the coward’s way out :

“It doesn’t matter. Just ignore it.”

Sannie^⩊^: “Okay.”

The awkwardness in that one word made your stomach twist.

You groaned, throwing yourself onto your sofa. Maybe if you stayed here long enough, you’d just disappear.

But then—

A knock at your door.

You frowned. It was late. Who—

Another knock. Louder this time.

With a sinking feeling, you opened the door.

And there stood San, messy tousled hair, hoodie slightly askew, neckline slightly off, he probably just threw it on before coming over, he looked hot… and—frustrated?

“You’re seeing someone?” he blurted out, stepping inside before you could answer.

“What?” You blinked, slowly closing the door.

San ran a hand through his hair, his jaw tense. “You wouldn’t tell me who that text was for. And it wasn’t me. So who is it?”

You gaped at him. “Why do you care?”

His eyes flickered. “I—” He hesitated, then scoffed. “I don’t. I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”

“San.” You crossed your arms. “Are you jealous?” You asked trying to joke and ease the tension.

He scoffed again—too quickly. “No.”

But his ears were red.

Your heart pounded. “Then why are you here?”

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away. “I just… I thought—” He exhaled sharply. “I thought I had more time.”

Your breath caught. “Time?”

His gaze locked onto yours, raw and unguarded. “Time before you fell for someone else.”

Silence…

A shaky laugh escaped you. “San…”

He swallowed hard. “Tell me it wasn’t supposed to be me.”

You hesitated. A part of you wanting to explain the misunderstanding.

His voice dropped almost whispering“Tell me, and I’ll drop this.”

Your heart screamed at you, but you were frozen.

Maybe you were meant to send that text to him after all.

Next

[dark-night-hero]

Imagine being Caleb's significant other.

Imagine being all tried from your day, entering your apartment just like any other day of another boring cycle only to be greeted by the lights being on already and before you could even get your hopes up. A sizzling sound filled the room echoing all throughout the apartment coming from the kitchen.

Imagine quickly but carefully making your way into your kitchen, trying your best not to get your hopes up but as soon as you saw a familiar back working his way into your kitchen. As you stood there in shock and in a bliss of happiness. He turns towards you with a cheeky grin. "Welcome home pipsqueak, I cooked your f-" He gets cut off by a bone crushing hug which he did not hesitate to return. "Did you miss me? Because I do. I miss you every single day."

Imagine spending most of your time at home, you sitting in between his tights, casually leaning your back on his chest as you took a bite of the apple he have cut and peeled for you. Right in front of the two of you was a movie playing, the one that the two of you has been looking forward to watch by sometime now. "I bet he's gonna die at the end." "I bet 20 bucks he doesn't" "I bet 30 he does."

Imagine passing by the street only to come across a street performer. Hand in hand, you stood there for a while until the man finished his performance, giving him a tip before passing by. "That was really good." You utter with a smile as the two of you walk side by side, fingers intertwined as you swing it back and forth like a child. "Hmm I see." He replied.

"Ya'know, when I told you he was good I never expect you to do this." You stare at him as he continue to set up his newly bought guitar. "And I told you, I just happened to bought one because I miss playing guitar" "Yeah right.." You could not help but to roll your eyes at him. Nevertheless you continue to look at him. There he was sitting on the floor in in cross legs, resting in one of his tights where the body of the guitar as he as tune it correctly. On top of it, he was wearing a tank top, how could you look away when he was in there flexing his muscle without even trying. He really knows how to get your attention without even trying.

Imagine dozing off in the middle of it only to find you lover strumming the guitar. He was playing the intro of 'I'm leaving on a Jet Plane' but suddenly stopped with your eyes met. Smiling at you sheepishly, he asked. "Did I wake you up honey?" Instead of answering, you just spread yourself into the sofa, laying on your stomach and resting your cheek on your arm while looking at him who was still smiling at you. "Go on.." You mumble, still half asleep.

Imagine Caleb who started playing the guitar, this time it was different from what he was playing earlier when you wake up. This one sounds classic, a familiar yet unfamiliar tune, something that you have heard before but haven't heard for so long you cannot seem to recognize it.

"Wise men say, only fools rush in" You do not know if it was his voice, his looks, or the way he strum the string on his guitar but you felt a shiver down your spine as soon as he started singing. "But I can't help falling in love with you" Maybe it was the way he was looking at you while he sings that pulls you in. The way he looked so in love. "Shall I stay? would it be a sin" The way he smiles as he stops for a moment, eyes never looking away from yours as he utter the next lyrics. "If I can't help falling in love with you?"

Imagine the way you look at him dumbfounded, eyes wide as he set down his guitar and carefully, gently makes his way towards you. "Cat got your tongue? Pipsqueak." He then gently pinch your cheeks, snapping you out of daze as you look at him with a new light. "Play more." There was a few moment of silence before he went and pick up his guitar and sat right next to you. "What do you want me to play?"

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

: Very much addicted to the thought of Caleb singing while playing the guitar.

: here is the tiktok vid of a Caleb singing (ai) "Can't help falling in love"

[windyremedy]

title: i’m gonna marry her anyway 💍💥

tags: swearing, fluff, silly, protective dad, timeskip, childhood friend reader

Bakugou wasn’t the type to befriend people, if anything others stuck to him even when he shouts and sneers at them to go away. Yet there was one girl from pre school that remained by his side, one that didn’t annoy him as much as the rest, one that respected his space when he needed it, one that wore a damned smile that buckled his knees weak, and that girl was you.

The two of you grew up in the same neighborhood for the most part. He remembers the time you moved in being something he didn’t really care about on the inside and…well..he showed it on the outside too. Leaving a not so great impression on your parents, namely your father, when his parents came to greet the new family settling in the town. That moment marked the start of Bakugou’s troubles in the future.

Throughout the years you weren’t exactly the best of friends but somehow you two always seemed to end up near each other like magnets. One time there was a school event where it was a requirement for students to pair up and since you were already around each other he just dragged you to team with him. Better you than one of the other cluster of dummies.

“Oi, c’mere.”

Were the words he spoke and you listened without complaint. Heck you even grinned when he called you over. Flustered he tried to remain steady in his emotions, he didn’t like not being in control of his feelings and you just break it without even knowing. So to get it done and over before you see his reddened face he pulled you to run faster in the three legged race. Not being the most gentle during it and the audience in the stands might’ve pointed for passion but your father noticed something else, something brewing and it’s safe to say he was not a fan of it and that he was also right in his assumption.

When Bakugou finally asked you to be his girlfriend during your third year in middle school. The relationship was kept on the down low. With no one knowing a thing that was happening between you two. The sneaky glances from each other’s desk was quick enough for no one to notice. The kisses under the bleachers and the hand holding during bus rides.

Really it was all going very well, too well in fact. So of course when you two were making out in your bed. After Bakugou sneaked in through the window to your room, due to probably rushing for time finally alone together, your father had caught you red handed as the door was not locked properly. Dropping the plate of fruits he had cut for his sweet angel and there a devil was tainting her! He didn’t come for a while after that.

Anyway as years passed you two were still a couple much to the dismay of your father. Your mother on the other hand didn’t think he was too bad. His reputation with her grew when he’d help cook in the kitchen during the time he’d come over for dinner. He also was so so gentle with you she noticed, opening doors and holding your seat out. In her eyes he was perfect for you! 100/10!

So when the time ultimately rolls around he gathered the courage to ask your parents for their blessing.

“No.”

“Oh stop it. Don’t listen to him Katsuki.”

Now obviously It was an immediate no from your dad but at least your mom was super supportive of it. Telling him to not listen to your old man and while sure he could have gone ahead and went through with it after that but he still wanted to get your dad’s approval. If he’s gonna be your husband he’s gotta do his due diligence to ensure not just your relationship with him is great but also your parents.

Time and time again he asked for so long. Some with prepared speeches, others on the spot feelings which were really difficult for him to say. He did it anyway for you but he hadn’t gotten it and he would’ve tried more times if not for you finding the ring underneath the bed when you were cleaning your shared bedroom.

By the time your wedding rolled around nothing was more important than you anymore. Bakugou didn’t care if your father liked him for you, he loved you and that was it. If he didn’t see that then so be it.

Standing in front of you at the altar, seeing you in the dress of your dreams, the girl he once thought was slightly less annoying was now the person he cared for most. He hated being weak more than anything in his life but you're the one person he didn’t mind being weak to. Still being able to render him speechless with your existence alone.

He didn’t even know what he did to deserve you and for a quick moment he thought about how easy your father would’ve answered. But when he looked in the crowd after your shared kiss. He saw it, the approval with your father nodding at him with a defeated but accepting expression as you wrapped your arms at his side, smiling at him, with the look of love.

He did it.

TwitTwit

firecrackernews: CONGRATS TO THE NEWLY WEDDED COUPLE!! *pictures from the small private wedding from a family friend’s instagram*

— endox81_: wtf he has a gf

— icyp0t: correction he has wife now

— baller4life: ngl childhood friends to lovers is my trope

— xplosionmite: what if I just die? HUH???? WHAT ABOUT MEEEEEEEE

— re1leenut: CUTIES 😚😚😚💕

— candyyumm: nah your man is gone

— katsuismyhub: fck my life

— redriotofficial_: IT WAS SO MANLY!! CONGRATULATIONS TO THE BAKUGOU’S!!!!

— ty.diaryc: ariana what are you doing here? 🤨

— bruntdynam: that’s his best bro

— mizriot: @reddriotofficial_: I WANT YOUR BABIES ‼️

[arandomao3user]

TimBern incorrect quotes because I've been up since five in the morning and have to attend a birthday party (it's happening in my house. It's my sisters. She failed to be born on Julius Caesars assassination AND St. Patrick's day)

Featuring: Tim failing at W.E. work, and it's all Bernard's fault. Also, Bernard is a freak.

—

Tim, in the middle of a meeting: And that's why I think we should invest more in th—

Bernard, strolling right in with his sunglasses on, bag of takeout in hand, holding a coffee in the other: TIMBOOOO, BABY!!!

Tim: . . .

Tim, slowly inhaling and forcing a smile: Bernie! What're you doing here?

Bernard, leaning in for a kiss, whispering: One, you never did the dishes last night, two, I said never to call me Bernie.

Tim, whispering back: One, I said I was sorry this morning, two, I'm in the middle of a meeting.

Bernard: One, I still had to do the dishes, two, you hate meetings anyways.

Tim: One, I'm sorry, again. I'll do them the rest of the week. Two, they're still important to my cover.

Random guy: *Clears throat*

Tim:

Bernard:

Tim: CAN'T YOU SEE I'M TRYING TO TALK TO MY BOYFRIEND?!

Bernard: THE F&#-$ING AUDACITY!

Random guy:

Tim: See you later tonight, honey bear!

Bernard: I'll miss you, my love dove!

*Tim and Bernard begin a sloppy make out session and the meeting ends early...*

—

Bruce: I hear you've been slacking lately at work.

Tim: No clue what you're talking about.

Bruce:

Bruce: Why is Bernard in your office?

Bernard, waving through the door:

Tim: Oh, yeah, he's on break from college so he's been stopping by.

Bruce:

Tim:

Bruce: No further questions.

—

Bernard, with Tim pinned to his desk: Look at you, all sexy CEO.

Tim: Oh? I thought I was all sexy vigilante.

Bernard: Perhaps you're just sexy in general.

Tim: Perhaps you should show m—

Damian, throwing the door open: DRAKE! . . .

Tim:

Bernard:

Damian, pulling out a sword: ARE YOU DEFILING MY BROTHER!?

Tam, recording from the background:

—

Dick: Thanks, Tam, I just needed to drop something off real quick.

Tam: Yeah, it might be a while though, Bernard stopped by.

Dick:

Dick: W h a t ?

Tam: Yeah, he starts up college again next week, but lately he's been here all day with Tim, I'm about to soundproof his offi—

Dick, barging in: TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE!

—

Jason, calling Tim's office to annoy him:

Bernard: Yello?

Jason: ??? Blonde guy, why are ya answerin' Tim's phone?

Bernard: He's getting us lunch.

Jason: When did you start working at Wayne Enterprise?

Bernard: Oh, I don't, I'm just here to hang out with Tim.

Jason:

Jason: Hang out?

Bernard: Yup. We hang out aaaaall day long.

Jason:

Jason: Dowd, if I find out you're f&#%#ing my brother in his office I'm gonna neuter you.

Bernard:

Bernard: So his office is off limits?

Jason: Dead. *Hangs up*

Bernard, chuckling: I'm in danger.

—

Bernard, out to run some errands:

Bernard: Hey Cass.

Cass, from the shadows:

Bernard: Just getting some groceries to make a nice dinner for Tim tonight, he hasn't been eating right lately. I saw him eat a breakfast burrito in to bites before drinking six sodas back to back, not right...

Cass:

Bernard: Nice seeing you, too!

—

Stephanie, walking campus with Bernard: How was your break?

Bernard: Really fun, actually. Jason gave me a black eye and a matching scar with Tim on my neck, Dick tried to throw me out the window, I got this really cool scar from Damian's sword, he also said he'd immediately get John Constantine over to curse me, Cass stalked me for three hours straight while I was out, and Bruce paid me a thousand dollars to buy condoms!

Stephanie:

—

[returnofeternity]

synopsis. the older woman who's been stalking you at work offers to leave you alone if you go to a motel with her for one night.

pairing: charlotte matthews x butch!reader (masc terms used)

warnings. legal age gap, perv/stalker!lottie, stalker relationship, smut ofc which means 18+, motel sex if that's a warning you need. character death? but that's for you to decide....

wc: 2,528

· · 𐂂 · ·

the flash of a fur coat makes your heart sink.

fuck. she's really gonna get you fired one of these days. you don't know how many times your manager has yelled at you about her. it's not even your fucking fault! you're getting stalked by this older woman and he has the nerve to yell at you? all you can really do is kick her out, so you don't know why he's so pissed every time she manages to sneak in. she doesn't even sneak in sometimes. she's bold and watches you through the windows while she pretends she's on the phone.

you have no idea why she chose you.

are you a tiny bit flattered? of course. but are you also a tiny bit scared? of course. she doesn't seem dangerous, nor has she posed any real threat to you other than scolding you when you forgot to ask her if she wanted bags that one time, but there's a motive as to why she's following you. is she planning on kidnapping you? murdering you?

just as you start thinking darker thoughts, the stack of cereal boxes you're putting away gets knocked down from beside your feet. you close your eyes and try to breathe slowly. it's been a long fuckin' day.

"i'm so sorry," the voice that calls out makes you open your eyes immediately. it's her. "i didn't see you."

bullshit, you think. it almost makes you laugh.

"you know you're not supposed to be in here." you reply, gathering the fallen boxes and sitting them back up on your opposite side. she shifts on her feet and you can't help but stare at her exposed ankles. you blink hard and crane your neck up at her where she stands before you. "don't make me call security on you."

"please, we both know they can't lay a hand on me." her tone is sarcastic and teasing, and she looks away from you to glance at a bag of cereal on the shelf and taps her fingers on it. "i wouldn't be mad if you were the one to drag me out, though."

her eyes light up at the thought of your hands touching her arms as you drag her out.

"look," you huff, getting up off the floor and to your feet. "you're gonna get me fired if you keep coming in here. my manager's pissed."

"don't worry, i wouldn't let that happen."

you furrow your brows at what she means by that but roll your eyes.

"besides, i came here to ask you something." lottie raises her hand when you go to open your mouth to tell her off, and she finds herself smiling when you obey immediately. "a trade-off."

you lean on your other foot and cross your arms, looking her up and down. you're curious. you nod for her to continue.

"come with me to my motel and i'll leave you alone forever. you have my word." she smiles at you and crosses her heart, holding your gaze with an intense stare.

forever? why are you upset about forever? and why do you not buy her obvious lie?

"and i'm just supposed to believe you? one fuck and you're just gonna walk away?" you scoff at her.

she nods and leans in some, her perfume hitting your nose and making you dizzy. lottie licks her lips and softens her eyes. "i'm gonna be going away soon. i want my last night here to be with you. making love to you. or fucking you, if that's what you want."

you make some sort of choking laugh sound at her boldness and scratch at your neck awkwardly, staring at the letters on the cereal box and trying to make up your mind.

"are you serious?" you ask, frowning when she nods. "where are you going?"

"is that a yes?" she smirks, balling up her fists excitedly.

you let out a tiny sigh and roll your eyes, smiling lightly as you nod. "yes. but it better be a nice fucking motel."

· · 𐂂 · ·

you end up giving lottie your contact information so she can call you later to pick you up. you're pretty sure she already had it though and she was just covering her ass. you've gotten too many "you looked pretty today" texts to assume otherwise. you start to regret it halfway through your shift when she won't stop blowing your phone up. you're excited when you go to check your phone for the time and see some notifications, only to find out they're all from lottie.

all 17 of them.

and lottie, who kept her word and left the lot, is patiently waiting by the motel where she said she'd uber you to. her body itches to go back and watch you through her car, but she has your security work cameras she hacked into to keep her from doing so. her fingers cradle your face through her screen as she watches on her phone, stomach bubbling with excitement as she waits for tonight.

when it's time to clock out, you wait outside the store and mumble to yourself as you check your phone for the uber lottie sent. should be here any second... you look up and sigh, gulping when you spot the car pull into the parking lot. you're so nervous and excited it feels like you're floating. nervous because you have no idea if lottie's being truthful. she could be taking you to her house to murder you and you'd have no idea. excited because you have no idea. it's a thrill.

the uber ride is silent and you thank god lottie's constantly texting you so you have something to busy yourself with. you arrive at some busy street and furrow your brows. this isn't the motel... leaning forward, you speak up to the driver. "uh, sorry, but i'm supposed to be at some motel."

he hums and swipes his finger against the map on his phone, not even doing or looking for anything. "no. this is where the drop-off location is."

you glance at your phone again, another notification from lottie popping up.

lottie: Are you here yet?

you thank the driver and get out, eyes scanning the busy crowd in search of lottie. it's so overwhelming as people push past and talk loudly next to you. you almost give up until you feel your phone buzz, looking down to see that lottie's calling you. you sigh with relief and pick up, still looking all over the place to see if you can spot her.

"where are you?" you both say.

"i'm waving. can you see me?" lottie's voice booms through the speaker and you grimace, holding it away from your ear as you look around. "i'm by some construction people."

suddenly, you see that big fur coat. you nod like she can see it and laugh at yourself before giving her a verbal answer. once you two spot each other, she smiles so big you can see it even though she's like a blob from where she is. she saunters toward you while you take your time and shuffle your feet, suddenly looking at her in a whole new light.

you're about to fuck your stalker.

and you like the thought of it.

you always thought of her as beautiful, but you couldn't stand how invasive she was. her attractiveness was offset by how often you got in trouble at work because of her, and you started resenting her a little bit. but you won't lie; a part deep inside of you always wished she would've tried something with you.

oh, if you only knew how often she'd break into your house....

she tells you that she wanted to walk with you over to the motel to spend more time with you. you find yourself endeared. she's quiet for once as you walk next to her, her fingers ever so often brushing against yours like she wants to hold your hand. her furry coat rubs against your arms as she tries to get closer, and you can't help but grin.

lottie leads you to her motel room, which by the way, is indeed a fancy as fuck place, and you shuffle inside. you look around in awe at the decoration and amount of space in here. damn, you could live here. when you turn around, lottie's got her coat off and is just in her beige dress. you flush and rake your eyes down her body, taking in the curves of her hips and the length of her long legs. your eyes snap back to her face when her legs move forward, and you slowly back up against the bed. you've nowhere to go when she corners you, and you fall back onto your ass, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you. she's breathing unevenly as she stares down at you, and your eyes fall to her rising chest. her nipples are poking through her dress and your mouth opens on its own as you think about getting to see them.

"you're so handsome." lottie mumbles, her hand stroking your cheek. her thumb swipes your bottom lip, cooing when you kiss it. her index finger traces your lips and slowly slips inside your mouth. it's slender and long, and you gag a little bit when she presses her finger flat against your tongue.

she huffs with a smile and her thumb taps your chin, signaling for you to open your mouth. she takes her finger out slowly and has to close your jaw for you, and she chuckles at how stunned you are.

"have you ever been with an older woman before?" she asks, bending slightly to hike her dress up with one hand, pushing you back with another.

your mouth goes dry at the sight of her bare thighs, and you let out the most embarrassing noise as she settles on top of your lap. all you can do is shake your head no. her breath hits your face and you don't know where to look. her eyes? her lips? the freckle on her nose? you're thinking too hard. and too much. you need to loosen up.

you swallow down your nerves and touch her thighs, slipping your hands under the fabric of her dress until you grab her hips. you pull her closer, biting your lip to conceal a groan as she starts grinding on your lap. the lacy material of her panties rubs against your thigh, making your clit throb as you begin to feel how wet she's getting.

your eyes droop in hunger, your head rolling forward as you ghost your lips over hers and pant desperately. she meets you halfway and completes the kiss, her tongue slipping into your mouth and clashing with yours. her hand wraps around your neck and drags you down until you're flat against the mattress, holding you down with her hips and continuing to hump against your lap.

"i want to taste you. take your clothes off for me." she whispers against your lips, hands greedily pulling at your shirt to get you to hurry in doing so. she scoots off and allows you to undress while she does the same, throwing her dress off to the side and watching you with hungry eyes as you fumble with your boxers.

it's hard to concentrate on kicking them off when lottie's glistening pussy is now in your view, her bush making your brain fully malfunction. jesus, she's perfect. you want to speak up and ask if you can taste her first as she walks toward you again, impatiently yanking the rest of your boxers off your legs, but she's settled in between your legs with her nails digging possessively into your sides before you can open your mouth.

there's a twinkle in her eyes as she peers up at you from down there, and you wouldn't have heard it if you weren't holding in a bated breath, but you hear her sniff your arousal. you're so turned on by it that you close your eyes and let out a low groan, your stomach doing flips as she leans in closer and closer until her lips attach to your needy clit.

"oh, fuck," your body melts back against the mattress at the contact, and you tangle your hands through her dark hair to push her closer. she sucks harshly before pulling away, teeth scraping lightly against your clit as she does so. "shit, lottie."

"let me have you all night? i'll pay for your ride home in the morning, just let me fuck you until you pass out." she pleads, hands kneading your stomach as she presses hot, open-mouthed kisses against your thigh.

· · 𐂂 · ·

when you wake up in the morning, missing lottie's touch, you reach over the stand-in lottie pillow she put in your arms before she left and grab your phone from the nightstand. you scroll through your phone's contacts until you reach her name and hover your finger over the screen. should you? you decide that, yes, you should, and press the call button, swallowing down any nerves you have.

the wait feels like forever and your stomach starts to hurt as you listen to the rings. you sit up straight when you hear a beep followed by the words, "we're sorry, you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service." your heart pounds fast and your body sweats.

what the fuck? it must be a mistake.

you wipe your brow and look down at your phone, ending the call and hopping up from the bed. you call her again but it's the same message. was she actually leaving like she said she was and disconnected her phone? but why?

you look around the room for any sort of sign that she could still be here, but all her things are gone. you check the bathroom and even head down to the lobby to see if she might've gotten hungry and gone down for breakfast. she's not in either of those places. the receptionist didn't even see her leave.

you trudge back to the room, upset that you didn't even get to say goodbye. it's silly, you think. you barely even knew her other than the fact that she was stalking you for some reason, but you miss her. you're going to miss her. hell, you'll even miss her at work. at least your manager will be happy.

the room feels suffocating now that you're alone in it, and you look around once again, scanning for anything you might've missed. your eyes narrow when you notice there's a piece of paper on one of the nightstands. it's her handwriting, you know because of the pile of her letters in your drawer back at home, and it says:

i hope this will be enough for you. i've enjoyed our time together. - charlotte ꨄ

you feel another piece of paper underneath the letter, and when you reveal it, your eyes almost pop out of your head.

it's a check for fifty grand.

[shenachigans]

KIRAMMAN SANDWICH III | Cassandra K. + Caitlyn K.

CollegeStudent!Caitlyn would beam whenever you came to watch her volleyball matches. She would see you situated on the bleachers, keeping to yourself as your eyes wandered in interest (and perhaps slight confusion if you weren’t familiar with volleyball mechanics) while the crowd cheered around you. It brought the younger woman pride and eagerness to impress you with her skills as the captain and main setter of the team.

You were her good luck charm, dedicating each point they scored to you, and her heart fluttered every time you flashed her a proud smile, of course it was only directed at her. When the team was going through a challenging match, she would find your stressed expression endearing because you cared so much about something she found trivial. The glow of amazement in your eyes whenever she set the ball or served (and sometimes spike) was something she wished to etch in her brain permanently. You were so expressive, wearing the truth on your face unlike many others, and she loved you for it. However, the bliss didn’t last long, especially not when her mother got involved.

LawProfessor!Cassandra happened to attend one of Caitlyn’s games out of the blue — something she never did because she didn’t want her daughter to continue her volleyball career after high school. Caitlyn, of course, was sure something was at play and she suspected you were involved. Her smile had never faltered so quickly at the sight of her mother tailing you as you looked for seats. She didn’t like how the older woman sat too close to you on the bleachers either, there was plenty of space to create a respectful distance, but nooo, Cassandra had to rub in the proximity between you. No one would bat an eye because they knew you were her TA, and if they did, no words were said as it was obvious that you belonged to her. It was the unspoken gossip on campus.

Caitlyn’s blood fumed at the satisfactory expression on her mother’s face. What was the older woman up to? The distraction cost her team a few points, and it started to take a toll on her teammates. Now was not the time to be petty and jealous, she couldn’t embarrass her team and herself, so she tried to focus on your presence only, her good luck charm, and the point gap lessened. However, something nagged at the back of the younger woman’s mind. Were you sick? You were hot and bothered from her view on the court and it wasn’t a particularly hot day today either. Worry started to wash over Caitlyn’s expression… then her gaze flicked to her mother.

Oh.

That sly old hag– The older woman was aroused. It was clear now: your poorly masked trembling, flinching, and feverish disposition. It was a telltale sign: Cassandra plugged you with a vibrator. In public. At her daughter’s volleyball match. And she was teasing you with the controller. Fury overtook Caitlyn. How could her mother do this? Was this revenge for fucking you first and mocking her for being a coward? She wanted to peel that victorious smirk off the older woman’s face. It only fueled the younger Kiramman to go on a rampage, breaking the college milestones and winning the match with a large point gap, as adrenaline and jealousy coursed through her veins.

Instead of celebrating at the end with her members, Caitlyn watched how her mother cradled you in her arms as you silently came while the crowd rejoiced, unaware of the dirty act that had occurred. With this, the (petty) war of who would monopolize you had just gone into a different and more dangerous route.

A/N: No one asked for this, but it popped into my head. Also, I know Caitlyn is mostly, if not always, associated with basketball with the fics I read, but I think she would be pretty good at volleyball too, she is a decorated woman after all ;) Cassandra got her revenge and how she did it was FREAKY. They're gonna have a freak off smh, poor reader.

Inbox is open! (Please read my rules first)

© shenachigans — do not plagiarise, translate, repost, or copy.

[chaoticallykinkygrem]

I’m gonna take the very popular trope of answering a call from your partner while your affair partner is fucking you and make it polyamorous

So prepare for moonwaterchaser or whatever their ship name is

Also this is my first time writing (kinda) smut so lmk if you have any tips 🫡

VERY NSFW | Minors DNI | Moonwaterchaser (RemusxRegulusxJames)

Regulus’s thoughts are somehow all over the place while being completely silent at the same time. All he can focus on is how good remus’s cock feels dragging in and out of him, how loud he is being, and how he wants more. His brain continues to be nonfunctional until a loud phone ringing wakes him up.

“Answer it love. Jamie’s calling.” Remus says while not stopping his movements in the slightest. Groaning softly regulus answers the phone, knowing his husband can probably hear what’s happening to him.

“Hey baby! I just got out of my meeting and I’m heading home now. Do you want me to pick anything up for dinner or should I cook at home?”

Regulus tries to speak but of course that’s when Remus decides to flip him over onto his stomach and start thrusting even harder causing regulus to cry out instead.

“Regulus? Is everything ok? Did you hurt yourself?”

Gods, James sounds so concerned. “No! No, I-I’m fine. Promise.” Regulus answers quickly, not wanting his husband to worry longer than needed.

“What’s going on? Why do you sound so out of breath?”

“You’ll never guess who came home early daddy…” Is all regulus can say before he feels the phone being ripped from his hands and put on speaker.

“Darling come home quickly so you can help me fuck our slut stupid. Can’t you hear how desperate he is for his other daddy’s cock?” Remus goads James knowing he can’t refuse his two husbands for long, especially not when he can now properly hear Regulus’s moans and whines. A soft groan is heard from the other side of the phone before a quick “I’ll be home in five. Don’t finish without me” and the sound of the call ending and going silent.

[mysteryfawn]

hauhaauh,, i freaking adore your layout so so much <:-),, maybe perhaps -- a chance x reader oneshot where the reader's quite .. overworked / stressed with some stuff and chance tries to cheer buddy up.. "just try your luck!" and the "im unlucky as ill ever be" :brokem_heart: chance makes em ill........../pos

BWAHHH thank you smsm!!! it means a lot, I tried to make this a bit emotional!!! I hope you enjoy it <3 (chance... sighs dreamily /silly) --- RED = Chance

Muffled speaking came from the TV, which slightly lit up the dark living room… The sounds of slight snoring echoed throughout the cabin, the owner of such sounds was one specific gambler, one sleeping on his partner’s couch.

Chance was originally going to surprise you by gifting you some cake and flowers, for absolutely no reason (He shot Mafioso 3 times in a row). Anywho, he ended up collapsing on your couch after waiting until 8 PM, it wasn’t his plan to doze off, but the long wait beckoned him to take a nap.

His eyes shot up due to a loud sound of a door being closed shut harshly, scaring him a tiny bit, but ultimately, he knew who had finally arrived home. Lifting his body, Chance turned off the television, swept off the imaginary dust from his clothes, and adjusted his hair slightly, his face changing to the iconic smirk he always wears.

“Took you long enough!” The gambler started, chuckling before quickly shutting up upon looking at your disheveled and tired figure… ‘Oh dear, it was one of those days, wasn’t it?’ thought the white-haired man, sighing softly.

Walking up to you, Chance helped you take off your bags, shoes and coat, guiding you to the dinner table to sit down and eat the red-velvet cake he baked. “How are you?” The gambler started simple, trying to not overwhelm you with questions.

You stayed silent for a bit, coldly staring at the cake, trying to collect your thoughts. Chance cut a slice for you, setting it on a tiny plate with a fork for you to enjoy… Taking tiny bites of it, your mood slightly upgraded, allowing you to respond to your lover’s question.

“Fine… Just-” You couldn’t complete the sentence, your voice low from exhaustion and hesitation, and your objective set on sleeping for an eternity, but that wasn’t something your consoling boyfriend would let happen.

“Speak to me, dove… What’s wrong?” Chance asked, offering a sweet smile. “Well, the rest of the survivors have been keen on making sure I know they don’t care about me, and the stupid killers are always killing me off first because APPARENTLY!-” You took a breath, attempting to calm down, “apparently… I’m the easiest to kill.” You trailed off, speaking your mind angrily, talking about how you always try your hardest but nothing is ever enough.

After you finished with your rant, Chance kept quiet, looking at your eyes that were struggling to contain your tears. “Y’know… When I first got here, they did the same with me, it took a pretty long while for them to even accept me as another survivor!-”

“I’ve been here for a year already.” You interrupted, quietly but strictly.

“Look, darling, they’re assholes… We’re all going insane in this place, but at least you got me and I got you!” Chance paused, putting a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t please everyone, and you don’t have to either… And for the killers, I can teach you how to wield a flintlock!” The gambler inched closer to you, his chair touching yours.

“Ya gotta try your luck, and who knows, maybe if you shoot enough monsters and save enough people, they’re gonna respect you!” Chance smirked, giving you a side hug as he already started daydreaming about you shooting Mafioso.

“I’m as unlucky as I’ll ever be, Chance…” You muttered, sighing deeply in defeat, thinking about how many times his gun will explode in your face instead of working properly. The gambler stayed quiet for a bit, but quickly got up from his seat, offering a hand for you.

As you held his hand, he brought you towards your couch, falling on it and dragging you down with him, gaining a squeal of surprise from you. Holding you close to his chest, he planted a small kiss on your forehead.

“Dove, you’re not that unlucky, you got me, remember?” Chance chuckled, cuddling with you as you giggled lightly… He was right, and he knew it, you knew it. You lifted yourself to his face, kissing his lips softly, before closing your eyes as you set your face into his neck comfortably, dozing off with him.

[noorpersona]

Managerial Duties: Aoba Johsai

Aoba Johsai’s volleyball team was many things—talented, competitive, and, above all, nosy. But when it came to you, their manager, they had collectively accepted one simple fact: you lived in oversized, comfortable clothing.

Baggy sweatpants, hoodies, loose athletic shirts—if it wasn’t designed for maximum comfort, you didn’t wear it. Even during official team meetings outside of school, you opted for relaxed attire: a sweatshirt over leggings, sneakers, and maybe a jacket if it was cold. It wasn’t that you disliked fashion, exactly. You just didn’t see the need to dress up for them.

So when you casually mentioned you had to leave practice early for a family event, no one thought much of it.

"Skipping out on us?" Oikawa teased, tossing a volleyball in the air as you packed up your clipboard. "And here I thought we were your favorite people in the world."

"You’re absolutely not," you deadpanned, adjusting the strap on your bag.

"What’s the occasion?" Iwaizumi asked, more genuinely curious.

"Wedding," you muttered. "Family thing. My parents are making me go."

Matsukawa, stretching lazily, smirked. "That why you’re sneaking off?"

"Something like that," you grumbled, crossing your arms. "They’re making me wear this stupid dress. It’s all tight and uncomfortable, and the shoes are even worse. Who the hell decided that formalwear should be painful?"

Hanamaki raised an eyebrow. "What’s it look like?"

You groaned, already dreading the memory of trying it on. "It’s one of those straight-jacket ones that make you feel like you can’t breathe. Apparently, looking ‘put together’ is more important than basic human comfort. I swear, my mom picked this just to torture me."

"Sounds fancy," Watari mused.

"Sounds awful," you corrected. "I’m gonna suffer through this thing and then burn it the second I get home."

"Bet you’ll look nice, though," Kindaichi added hesitantly, rubbing the back of his neck.

You gave him a deadpan look. "If you call suffering looking nice, sure. Anyway, I’ll see you guys at the next practice. Don’t destroy the gym while I’m gone."

"No promises!" Hanamaki called as you walked off.

That was the end of it.

Practice was still in full swing when you stepped back into the gym, freshly changed and already regretting every single life choice that had led you to this moment. You had only come back because you’d stupidly left your phone on the bench, a mistake that now seemed far worse than just being phoneless for a few hours. The team was scattered across the court, finishing up drills and cooldowns, their chatter filling the space as they moved around. You had hoped—prayed, even—that you could slip in, grab your phone, and leave unnoticed. But fate, as always, was cruel.

Then you stepped forward.

And the entire gym stopped dead in its tracks.

Oikawa, who had been mid-sentence, visibly choked. His water bottle slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor.

"Holy shit," Matsukawa whispered, not even trying to be subtle.

Iwaizumi, caught off guard, blinked hard, as if his brain needed an extra second to process what was happening. Yahaba, who had been chatting with Kunimi, turned so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash, mouth opening but no words coming out. Kunimi, usually too lazy to react to anything, actually paused, his usual indifferent stare slightly wider than normal.

Even Kyotani, who rarely paid attention to anything that wasn’t volleyball or fighting, furrowed his brows, looking between you and the rest of the team like he had just walked into some elaborate prank. After a long pause, he finally muttered, "Why do you look like that?"

You shifted uncomfortably, hating every second of this. "My God. Can you guys stop staring?"

"We can’t," Watari blurted, sounding just as shocked as the rest.

Because, for the first time since they had met you, you weren’t wearing your usual baggy, oversized clothing. You weren’t hidden under loose layers of fabric that swallowed your frame. No, today, you had been dressed by your mother, which meant you were in something far more… put together.

The dress was sleek and form-fitting, something you never would have picked for yourself. The fabric hugged your silhouette in a way that felt unfamiliar, and you had spent the entire night feeling like you were playing dress-up in someone else’s clothes. To make matters worse, your mother had insisted on makeup—subtle, but noticeable enough to make you feel even less like yourself. The heels were even worse—unsteady, impractical, and making you curse whoever thought fancy shoes should hurt.

"Why—how—what?!" Kindaichi, who had been stretching, nearly tipped over from shock.

"Is that you?" Hanamaki added, pointing unnecessarily.

"No," you deadpanned. "I’m an imposter. The real me is at the wedding, plotting my escape."

"Hah—seriously, though! You clean up nice," Matsukawa mused, looking you up and down with a smirk. "Didn’t know you had it in you."

"No one did," Yahaba muttered, still looking at you like you had just shapeshifted before his eyes. "What the hell."

"I don’t," you grumbled, adjusting the hem of the dress uncomfortably. "My parents picked this out. Not my choice."

"Your parents should pick your outfits more often," Oikawa said before immediately ducking as Iwaizumi chucked a towel at his head.

Kunimi let out a short exhale. "So that’s what was under all those sweatpants. Huh."

Kyotani just grunted, arms crossed. "Tch. Whatever. Doesn’t change anything." But the way he kept glancing at you said otherwise.

"And that’s why I dress the way I do," you huffed.

Sensing your growing discomfort, Iwaizumi sighed, running a hand down his face. "Alright, that’s enough. Stop freaking out."

"I am freaking out," Oikawa retorted. "This is earth-shattering news."

"You’re an idiot," Iwaizumi muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You love me," Oikawa shot back, undeterred.

"I don’t," Iwaizumi deadpanned.

You exhaled, already exhausted. "Okay, I’m leaving now. If anyone makes another comment, I swear I’m quitting this team."

"No, wait!" Oikawa called. "Just one picture—"

You shot him a withering glare that promised pain if he continued that sentence. He wisely shut up.

With that, you turned on your heel and left, still muttering under your breath about hating dresses, hating heels, and how you were never letting your mother pick your outfits again. Behind you, the team was still buzzing, voices overlapping as they tried to make sense of what had just happened.

Matsukawa let out a low whistle. "Damn. We’re never gonna see that again, are we?"

"Nope," Hanamaki sighed. "Should’ve taken that picture."

"So we had a hot manager this whole time?" Yahaba muttered, still looking at where you stood like he was processing a cosmic revelation.

Oikawa, arms crossed, hummed thoughtfully. "Iwa-chan, do you think we could convince her to dress up again?"

Iwaizumi didn’t even hesitate. "No."

[gamergirlwrites]

Title: Happy Ending Story

Pairing: Abby Anderson x Female!Reader

Synopsis: You want Abby to tell you a story.

CW: Major angst. Blood. Gore. Death.

"Something about this doesn't feel right," Abby said as she looked around. The tip about a truck of food had come at a pretty rough time for everyone. You weren't an idiot, you knew it wouldn't be as easy as it looked, which was why you asked Abby to come alone. You had a reputation on the outside and in the camp as someone who could move things, so people came to you with all sorts of things. This came from someone trusted, presented to you as a gift for helping them move something big.

"Abby, it's easy. You have got to learn how to relax hon-," before teh words could even leave your mouth, the wire was tripped. The blade came at both of you so fast, that you didn't even manage to push Abby out of the way completely. Both of you hit the floor, but Abby didn't stay down for long. She was quickly getting up to pull your body back and into her arms.

"Oh my god," Abby gasped. She looked like she was going to be sick. Immediately, you tried to think of a way to calm her down. The cut on her face didn't look too deep, even though it was bleeding quite a bit.

"Hey, it's okay. The scar will look cool, and you can tell everyone that you got it getting food for the kids. They'll think you're a bad ass Abs," you told her. Abby let out a dry chuckle before she shifted you in her arms. You knew that Abby was holding you, but you couldn't really feel anything. Normally, you could always feel Abby's strong arms holding onto you, and not just because she always hugged you a little too hard.

You looked down at your body and gasped in shock at the blood leaking out. It looked like a massacre had happened, but your body was the only one around. Abby couldn't have gotten hit anywhere else, just her face. Your body had taken the majority of whatever pieces of scrap metal were flung your way. It was bad, and suddenly, Abby's reaction made sense.

"I'm not gonna make it. I'm an idiot. I could have gotten you killed." The realizations hit you one after another, and the last one completely devastated you. There was a sting to knowing that you'd never live out your perfect post-apocalyptic life with Abby, but the idea of having survived without her was even worse. "I'm so sorry."

"You can be sorry when I get you back to camp. Come on, someone will be able to fix this," Abby said as she tried to pick you up. She was strong enough to, but there seemingly wasn't a spot for her to grab that wasn't slick with blood. You were shocked that your organs weren't spilling out everywhere when she moved you.

"Abby stop! J-just leave me here and go back. I don't want that cut to get infected. Just go home, get checked out, and read a book, one with a happy ending just for me, okay?" you asked her. Abby's lip wobbled as she set you down. Abby went over to her bag and pulled out a children's book. You knew that she didn't normally read those or bring them with her, that one of the little boys who had taken a liking to her put it in for good luck.

Abby had been adamant about not wanting children, that it wasn't a good world to raise a family in, but you could see her resolve falter each time she visited you. There weren't many people in the camp who would be able to replace you, but you knew Abby wouldn't let those kids fall behind. You spent your time with the kids who needed a bit more help learning or the ones whose parents didn't feel like sending them to school was important.

"Once upon a time..." Abby's voice slowly faded as you stared up at her. She kept her head straight, unable to look down while she knew you were dying in her arms. You had died unafraid and without much pain, but you could only hope and pray that Abby eventually let go of you or else she'd never know peace. And that just wasn't the ending you wanted for her.

[hai7ani]

엄마 — haitani rindou, haitani ran

a rewrite of her favourite son | wc. 3.5k

prequels: brownies (Rindou's, part 1) | mooncakes (Ran's, part 2)

It takes a week for Rindou to decide that he is ready to see his mother again; an hour in the car from his place to Hiro-o where his brother currently resides, a nice, quiet neighbourhood in the city. It does not take him this long to reach, usually — twenty minutes at most, thirty at peak hours. During the entire ride he was well aware that they were running late for dinner — dull, violet eyes constantly flickering to the time written on the dashboard that only grows later and later, a huge pit sitting on the bottom of his stomach, heavy thoughts trapped in a constant, never-ending loop in his mind while he drove — but he had been adamant on taking the longer route to get there, deliberately slowing down before neon green lights to delay his dreadful arrival.

Lately he has been finding it hard to fall asleep at night for reasons unbeknownst to him. An answer he knows deep down can never truly be figured out by himself, not even the stars would give him any hints on what to do. The moon wanes and the weight of his heart grows heavier — Rindou has always wondered if it kept his mother awake at night too; if reconnecting had tormented her as much as it did to him.

The sword against his chest sinks deeper with every step he takes to reach his brother’s home. It almost felt humiliating for him to ring on the bell with a handful of gifts, signalling his arrival after what seemed to be a millenia — all to see a person he has resented for a majority of his life. The weight of his past only presses down on him when the heavy thump of footsteps behind the door grows louder and louder.

His sister-in-law gets the door. She is smiley and she is welcoming, as always. Like routine, he guides his partner through the door first and kicks his shoes off by the foyer. Then, he places his gifts on the counter before taking off his coat. They exchange a few smiles, he asks about Ran’s whereabouts when he does not spot his brother’s presence in the house, and he pulls out three chairs for them by the dining table. It is neat and set with dishes that look cold, but he spots a few which happened to be his favourites — a quiet pang of nostalgia mixed with something darker looms over the air as he takes it all in.

He pretends it isn’t bothering him at all. He acts as though he is fine.

Until his mother comes up behind him like a ghost in the wind. A chilling breeze that cuts through the air, a sudden flutter of nerves through his body instinctively.

For that moment — and just that quick moment alone — he resists the urge to shiver like a timid, spineless boy. Thick saliva pools in his mouth while he holds his breath, watching in pin-dropping silence when she walks past him to the kitchen. She does not spare anyone a glance, slippers scuffing against the floor loudly in a way that demands a load of attention.

“You’re late,” she starts, “I thought you weren’t gonna come.” Her voice has turned rough and raspier with tobacco and time, words curt and clipped, but it was nothing new. They slice through his flesh cruelly without fail, yet they do not wound.

Not this time, he tells himself — the walls of his heart have thickened with years of pain and resentment from his youth. He has built himself into something unbreakable, and yet, despite his best efforts, it still hurts him like a bitch. A dull knife cutting into his chest much deeper than before.

There was truly something about seeing her in person that ignited a certain flame in his chest, a raging anger that he’s buried under thick layers of time — the many unresolved issues as a family, a pair of mother and son. Memories that he tried so hard to push behind him returns in a flash, a gallery of past sorrows crashing against his ribs like waves.

His knuckles tighten any more, blunt nails digging into his skin, nose flaring with silent anger as he drops onto his chair, defeated. A bitter taste lingers on his tongue, there is a venom he cannot swallow fast enough. He’s growing defensive over nothing, really — though he bites back on them and swallows it all down for the sake of his poor partner, who is squeezing his hand tight beneath the table.

A snob. A hypocrite.

She just had to be his goddamn mother.

An invisible shadow falls over the room — the silence thick and heavy — and it doesn’t shift away even when his brother returns from the pharmacy, sitting down across from him without a word. Neither of them look at each other, Ran does not seem to speak to her either.

And it felt clear to Rindou then when she turned to scoop rice from the cooker.

The void in all three of their hearts — a mother and her two sons — was as deep as the ocean.

[They tried swimming themselves out of the dark, heads emerging through the water for air, but they could never fully escape the grappling, haunting hands of the sea.]

—

Dinner is nothing short of uncomfortable.

The quiet clinking of metal spoons and chopsticks against porcelain bowls fills the air as they eat, each sound seemingly deepening the tension in the room. His poor sister-in-law makes an attempt at small talk every now and then, commenting on how fragrant the food tastes and about the clear weather today — hoping to break the silence, but it always falls flat, her words left hanging in the air most times, going unanswered. Rindou’s partner tries joining in when her guilt finally overflows, showing a smile so sweet that it reaches her eyes, but it drops when his mother glances at her.

There was truly nothing more deafening — more unnerving — than the silent resentment of the Haitani brothers, who both seemed to be deep in their own world. Their rage was for who, nobody could tell. There were many unspoken words lingering between the three of them, thick and suffocating, full of dissatisfaction. A storm waiting to break at sea.

Then, their mother’s hand shifts, breaking the curse of silence in the room. She picks up a croaker with her chopsticks and places it into her eldest son’s bowl, and repeats it for her youngest.

Sure, Ma is really trying, Ran knows this much, and even though he doesn’t fully agree with every method that she uses, he never dismisses her efforts on reconciling with her children. But when two siblings are forced to grow up under the choking darkness of favoritism — like a joke that never truly lands, mocking the other for things he didn’t get to have — one has to be very careful in how they treat them both when they grow.

Like grass knocked down by the summer typhoon, Rindou has always gotten back up. Dusted the shards off his palms, plucked the thorns out of his flesh by hand, he made do with all that he knew as a boy. He became a man who grew calluses on his heart to withstand the embers that still hadn’t dimmed since childhood.

And yet, here he was — a festering wound wrapped in the shadows from his youth, a scar that still bleeds, getting ripped apart by his mother’s own hands, and she keeps the stitches loose, always. When you press on the edges, it presses back ten times, and it always hurts.

He pauses on chewing, staring down at his bowl with violets that only grow dimmer and dimmer with each dreadful second that passes. Very slowly, he lifts his gaze to meet his brother’s, who shoots him a blank look that he cannot read — or more like, a look that he doesn’t want to read. He knows there is something Ran is trying to say with that look on his face, but he dismisses it, and Rindou ignores him.

[A larger croaker rests in Ran’s bowl. A scene of the fish coming alive to flap around in the China flashes before his eyes. It was truly a mockery.

Ma continues picking away at the bones of her own fish as if nothing has ever happened. He doesn't know if she’d done it deliberately or not. After all, he is not Ran. He’s dumb and he’s stupid and he doesn’t get it. He never gets it.]

So, they do not speak of it. And Rindou continues eating.

Deep down, the young child in him was forever stuck in that house in Roppongi.

[For such a sensitive young heart like his own, the little things do matter.]

—

Home was something Rindou never got to have for himself since he was a boy — it never felt quite right for him to say that he had one. As he grew older, he found it to be more and more comfortable telling people that apart from his brother, he doesn’t have a family. Those words felt a lot better to him somehow, growing up.

It felt right.

[“It’s just the two of us from now on, Rin.”]

It has always been that way.

“Can you do Thursday, December 5?”

“No, I have work.”

“Okay, what about weekends? Say the 14th. Can’t on 7th, I’ll be outstation.”

“Can’t do. I have plans.”

Ran switches his phone off to sigh through his nose. Sure, his brother has always been a pain in the ass since they were young, and Ran’s always been able to take on his child-like tantrums without fail. He always knew the right things to say and Rindou never truly understood how he managed to do it.

But today, it felt a lot harder for Ran to control his temper.

Yet, he still tries to speak with him nicely. Some things are still meant to be confronted — he believes you cannot escape it forever.

“It’s just one day. They’re only available half-day on Saturdays and they’re not in on Sundays. Just take the day off on the 5th, or excuse yourself for two hours or so. It’ll be quick. The faster we get it done, the earlier you’ll get to leave.” He presses, convinces.

“No. I have an investor's meeting on that day.” Hard-headed as always, Rindou was. And that was the difference between the two brothers.

“Just go without me. Shoot me a text if you have anything.”

Rindou is stubborn, and Ran is impatient.

“For fuck’s sake.”

And finally, finally, the string that held together the last of Ran’s resolve finally snaps. He tosses his phone to the side to stand from the bed, resisting the urge to pull his brother up from the collar — for him to come to his senses, for him to stop dwelling on the past, on things that he can heal from if he would just let it.

[But it’s not as easy as said.]

“Your mother’s fucking dying and you’re over here acting like a damn child. I know you’re doing nothing on that phone, so put it the fuck down.” His voice is stern.

And it was true — the whole time, Rindou has been scrolling up and down on his Yahoo feed skimming through news and articles that he could care less about.

He just didn’t want to deal with whatever that Ran is putting him through — doesn’t want anything to do with his mother, if he were to be painfully honest. There were two things in the world that Rindou hated more than anything, and it was being put on the spot, and being told what to do.

“As I said, you can go without me.” He locks his phone, shrugging while he speaks, voice lazy and uncaring as he sits up straight.

“It’s not like she’ll want me there, anyway. And I could care less, too.” He emphasises on a certain word and it has Ran visibly tensing at his words. To others, it might’ve sounded like a perfectly normal sentence with only hatred directed to his mother. But to Ran, it was a lot more than that. They both know it.

One was playing with fire, and the other had lost all sense of patience.

“Say that again?”

Rindou does not, despite really wanting to. He shoves the venom back down his throat, bitter and full of thorns scraping through the columns of his throat. He’s just as pissed as his brother is, but Rindou is a lot better at hiding it than him — it was something he’d learned to make use of the hard way, growing up.

If only the world could just leave him alone.

If only his mother would stop tormenting him forever.

He stands before the door, lingering much longer than he’d like, mouth hanging open with words that die the minute they reach the tip of his tongue. Somehow, Rindou could not find it in him to utter the words.

So, he walks away, just like he always does. It’s better for him, he thinks — it meant a lot more to him to protect a peace he so desperately wished for since he was just a boy, from the world that has always been so cruel to him and his young heart.

There, his mother stands holding two small bottles of Yakult and a plate of freshly sliced fruits when he pulls the door open in one quick breath.

If he could describe it in words, her eyes were like hollow windows while she stared deep into the abyss. Numbness. Nothingness.

Then, she turns. He can only watch as her small, lonely back disappears into a corner, and the coil around his heart tightens. Walking away seemed to run deep in their DNA.

[Breaking his mother’s heart broke his own just the same.]

—

“What does he like?” She pulled open the fridge while beckoning his partner over.

“Hmm, let’s see. Oh—! Yakult will do. He drinks a bottle of it every morning.”

A hopeful glint had sparked in her eyes.

“. . . He still does?”

—

Snowfall is late this winter.

Growing up, Rindou has never liked the cold. He runs warm as a person and he likes the warm — it was his refuge to the flesh-eating melancholy that always clings onto the cold nights of winter.

There is a quiet resentment held towards this time of the year, a season that lingers for too long in his memory. Back when he was still a child, Rindou would always get really sick on the first snow. And Ran would always be there to place a damp towel on his forehead and get him pills for his fever, warm food to fill his growling tummy despite his lack of appetite in the face of the cold.

His mother though, she never really cared for things like this — getting sick, falling ill. . . To her then, illness was something that a cold shower could fix, and it was what she’d used to say whenever he’d fall sick, before handing him a couple of bills for KoolFever from the nearest konbini and heading out to go smoke in the snow. Winter has always been a distant affair to her, something Rindou could never quite understand when he was young.

Sitting on the balcony, he plucks a clover from one of Ran’s plants, twisting its stem between the pads of his fingers. The cold slowly creeps into his soul and he sniffles, but still, he stays — watching the world pass by before his eyes, as the sun begins to set beneath the horizon. For some reason, he doesn’t seem to mind the cold too much today. Maybe it was the stillness, the quiet simplicity of it. It feels nice.

Then, a warmth presses against his neck and he flinches.

“You never listen, do you? Always putting yourself out in the cold when you know you’re gonna get sick again.” Her tone is familiar while she tuts, sharp with a small hint of concern. He does not know when she came up behind him, but there she stands.

He catches the familiar scarf in his hands before it can slip off his shoulders — soft, red, and unmistakably hers. It was the same scarf he bought for her once, back when he was still young and naive, convinced that she truly did love him as her son.

Yet she still wears it to this day, aa if time had never passed.

The warmth from the scarf that he wraps around his neck awkwardly feels strange, but the sourness in his chest is already settling in, again.

Ma drops herself beside him on the bench, the sharp click of her tongue breaking the stillness of the space. Without a word, she finds liberty in pulling the red scarf tighter around his neck, wrinkly hands tucking the wool into place, as though she has done this a million times for him before.

“Truly a nuisance. You’re such a child,” she mutters, voice tinged with something that is much softer than annoyance.

[Something maternal, perhaps.]

Despite her words, Rindou does not feel hints of anger or frustration stirring in his chest. Instead, he feels oddly at ease. Her touch — familiar and warm — washes over him in a way that he didn’t expect. His eyes start to sting when the feeling gradually sinks and he buries his nose into the warmth of the scarf, hiding away the red tip of his nose, fat tears that are threatening to spill. The chill is biting but her presence next to him is like a shield — both comforting and suffocating all at once.

“I won’t be around for long. . .” Her voice falters, drifting away into the sunset before their eyes. There’s a distant, almost unreadable expression on her face. “Just bear with me for a bit, boy. I’ll be done soon, and you can soon get back to your lives.”

His breath catches at her words, the weight of her small, tired voice settling between them.

“I know I haven’t been a good mother to you both. I never really tried. Ever since your father and I fell apart, I found it hard to keep going anymore, as a person and a mother. And you. . .” She pauses, finding her words, and she can only hope that they don’t scare him away. “You look so much like him, I—” She trails off, her confession lingering in the air like smoke, heavy and painful.

When the orangey hues of the sun casts long shadows across them — wrapping everything in a soft, aching light — she doesn’t look at him. Instead, she stares far ahead, shoulders stiff and tense, but her hands tremble with no control while she grips onto the edge of the bench.

“I’m not asking you to forgive me,” she continues, voice breaking, finally lowering as if the weight of her words has fully drained her from inside out. “I don’t deserve it. But. . . I’m here now, and I guess. . . that’s all I can offer.”

Rindou swallows hard, heart tight and yearning for things he does not know beneath his ribs. For a moment, the world stills. He doesn’t know what to say — he wants to scream, he wants to ask why she’s only saying all these now, after all these years, and to tell her all that he had to endure because of their broken family, the memories that still lingers in his mind even when the trees have dried and he is no longer the boy living in that damned house.

But something in her voice — something fragile, laced with a thin string of hope — keeps him silent. It chokes him.

He slowly reaches out, veiny hands hovering near hers for a brief, uncertain moment on the bench.

“Why now?” It’s all he asks, voice thick with the unsaid.

Please tell me.

She doesn’t immediately answer. The cooling breeze shifts between them as the remaining leaves of winter rustle — as if the world is waiting for her to speak.

And finally, she looks at him. Her son.

“I don’t know,” Ma admits softly, eyes tired and resigned from her illness. “It may be selfish of me, but I don’t think I want to die with all this regret sitting in my heart,” she places a weak hand on her chest, where her beating heart resides, “and with all this bitterness, anger between us.”

The words hang between them like the fading sun, lingering just out of reach.

He only nods. The space between them isn’t as wide as it used to be, but it’s still there — unspoken words, broken promises, and years of unresolved trauma stretching like an ocean they will both have to cross. Maybe hand in hand, maybe not. But they can always try.

“I want to be your mother again, Rindou.”

But for now, the only thing that matters is the quiet understanding that passes through their souls, mother and son, as the last rays of the day flicker out.

And when tomorrow arrives, they will live under tomorrow’s sun.

He cries.

—

[Rain can fall and just sweep everything you have away in the blink of an eye. But once the sun shines, everything will come back to life. And then, you can find it again — the path to moving on, the path to living again. The path to healing will always emerge.

Life goes on and on.]

—

inspired by when life gives you tangerines

[hmshermitcraft]

When Martyn had walked in on Cleo carving a statue late into the night, they had been on full defence mode ready to defend their hobby to him, but to her surprise his eyes widened in awe, crossing the room in quickly strides to admire what she was working on.

It was a horse statue, a gift she was making for Bdubs, and while it was mostly ready for the painting stage she still had a little carving to go. Martyn didn’t seem phased by the fact it was unfinished however, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“I didn’t know you made statues!” He turned to her after a moment, tone almost accusatory.

“You never asked?” Cleo shrugged him off, rolling her eyes.

“Well sorry I don’t ask people randomly ‘hey, you don’t happen to carve statues do ya?’” Martyn retorted with a matching eye roll.

“Well maybe you should,” Cleo said, biting back a laugh. “Besides, what are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you, Scotts gone mining and I was bored. I know Bdubs is with TIES and Scar went to go see Grian, I saw the two of them leaving on my way over, so I figured you’d be alone and bored too. Didn’t realise I was interrupting your work, I can go.” Martyn turned to exit the clock tower but Cleo called after him.

“Wait!” They shouted, surprising themself. She cleared her throat, “wait. You can stay, I’m almost done carving and then I’m gonna start painting. Do you want to help? It’s for Bdubs and I know he’s kind of fond of you, don’t tell him I told you but he said he was disappointed when you ended up teaming with Scott instead. He said our interactions when I burnt down the mansion were really fun and he wanted to spend more time with you. I think he wanted you to replace Etho,” they said with a soft laugh.

“Yeah,” Martyn said after a moment, smiling at her, “I guess I can stay.”

Cleo only slightly regrets their offer. But they know Martyn well enough that he wouldn't actually paint the horse purple if Cleo didn't want it. Not unless it was really funny... Which it probably would be but Cleo has to pretend it isn't. This is an earnest gift. Bdubs will be overjoyed to find out Martyn helped! Well, as long as-

"Martyn, stop drawing that dick right now-"

[evilbookworm]

I’ve seen a lot of people saying “I hope Will has a new love interest in s5 he deserves to be happy.” What?! Do people not realize what that would entail? Not only would Will have to get over being in love with Mike but anyone he ends up with wouldn’t even compare. This isn’t some crush. He’s in love and it’s been building up over years. What do people think some random guy is going to make eye contact with him from across the school cafeteria and he’s just going to forget about Mike. Not to mention that it’s the 80’s and he can’t exactly just go up to someone and ask them out. Someone would have to make themselves an option and then Will would have to spend the season getting to know him all while [spoiler:] spending the whole season with Mike. What do people expect to happen? That Mike and Will and this random love interest are all going to go save the world together and Will is going to magically fall more in love with this new kid than Michael Wheeler.

Am I watching a different show?! How do people not see how much Mike wants to love and be loved by Will. It’s crazy to me that people would actually find it a good ending if some other guy just gets tacked on to the end of Will’s love story. It would feel so bad.

Yeah, some people just like ignoring the obvious. I mean, just the fact that Will is literally with Mike all season is plenty of proof already. I think the problem is that most of them expect there to be an epilogue scene where Will is already with another guy and has long since gotten over Mike. Of course, we know that’s not going to happen. Milevens and the homophobic ga…not so much. And it infuriates me, god. Like, I feel like a lot of people underestimate how Will really feels about Mike. Most people think it’s just a stupid crush. But it’s not. Will is one hundred percent in love with Mike and has been for quite a while. People don’t understand that they can’t just ignore it during s5. And it’s not like they’re just gonna do the unrequited love trope again. Why? Why would they spend all of s4 showing intimate scenes between Mike and Will, Mike not figuring out about the painting, if he’s just going to reject him in s5? It’s such a stupid idea.