#like. it gives me options to see who i ''click'' with; i guess.

[scaryhomes]

blinks. wait why do i suddenly have ten muses on here.

[crepezinhos]

put babygirl in a bunny suit (or maid...or anything, really. Something fem)? I'm just saying, imagine Scara being a shameless camboy. You can NOT make this asshole feel embarrassed and is pretty open about his line of work.

Soo imagine a reader that's jokingly like 'wow, you'd look great in this', and is open about her love for femboys, and she's super inexperienced! And broke! So he welcomes her to be an anonymous guest because guess what, she has an amazing body. So it would be super beneficial to his career.

And bonus please, if they're in uni and he's famous on campus for giving chemical changing sex, regardless of your sex? Basically, the dude people wants to fuck.

Please plspls

I think you know who I am but let's pretend you don't lmao

Naughty Bunnies In Heat! 🐰

(REQUEST #12) POV: Your dear friend, Scaramouche, thinks you have an enormous potential to be a Camgirl star, so you decide to make a collab with him for his channel.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is NSFW piece

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Breeding kink, slight mating press and creampie.

— AU is: Modern

— Femboy!Scaramouche x Reader

“And… there we go!” Scaramouche stepped away from you after he was finally done making up the red bow tie hanging between your collarbones.

With excitement shining in his violet eyes, he mired your body up and down like you were a piece of meat.

“Are you sure this outfit looks good on me, Scara? It’s kinda uncomfy in the back…” You couldn’t help but cross your arms and stick your legs together in pure embarrassment.

After all, it was your first time ever wearing a sexy bunny outfit, not only in front of your best friend but also in front of a camera that would record you and show you to thousands of people.

“Oh, you look marvelous, Y/N…” Scaramouche started walking in circles around you, wanting to check whether you were fully ready for what you two were about to do. “And don’t worry, we’re gonna be taking it off in a matter of minutes anyway.” He shrugged his shoulders while a hand of his quickly zipped your suit all the way to the top when he noticed it was not fully zipped.

Compared to Scaramouche, who was also wearing the same kind of outfit as you, you were acting like a weakling prey while he was shameless.

“What are we going to do exactly?” You asked him while he walked towards the bed, where he left his camera at.

“Just relax, Y/N… I’m just going to do some quick presentation and then we’ll roleplay as two cute little bunnies in heat!” Scaramouche quickly turned the camera on, walking away to set it on the empty tripod staring at the bed.

“Are you sure I’m going to… help your career by doing this?” You decided to sit on the bed, slightly preparing yourself to the video he wanted to record as you grabbed the mask in his nightstand.

“Absolutely! Don’t you ever look at yourself in a mirror?! You have one of the finest bodies I’ve ever laid my eyes on! You’ll do great!” After clicking s few things on the camera, and it started beeping every second, Scaramouche quickly walked up to you.

Finally, the camera emitted a loud ‘Beep’ noise, and a little red light begun shining on top of the big circular lens.

“Hello there, cuties! It’s Scaramouche again!” He quickly waved to the camera, winking very confidently to it. “As you can see, I have a >very< special guest today! Please, meet my best friend, Y/N Y/S!” Scaramouche gave you a tap in your shoulder, signaling you to say or do something.

You simply decided to wave to the camera and stay silent.

“As you can see, Y/N is a bit shy… But no need to worry! She’ll soon be having a lot of fun in today’s video!” He quickly walked closer to the camera and interacted with it as if it was a real person for a moment, before releasing it from the tripod.

While he clicked some buttons in the camera and adjusted its options, he silently mouthed to you ‘Get in the bed’, and when you captured his message and decided to obey him.

You laid down on the bed stiffly, completely afraid of the camera pointing at you. After all, he promised you that you were not going to be the focus of the video he had prepared for you. Even if you were wearing a mask, you were pessimistic about how recognizable you looked, so you were hopeful that he wouldn’t show a lot of you in this meantime.

“So, as you guys must’ve guessed from the title, we’re two little bunnies in heat… and we all know what animals do when they’re in heat, don’t we?” Scaramouche walked with the camera in his hands pointing down at the floor until he was close to you, offering you to hold it with the lens pointing at him.

You decided to obey him and grab the device with your hands, taking a look at screen to see if it was really pointing at him just in case.

“If you don’t, it simply means that bunnies breed each other like crazy… Why do you think the mother bunnies usually have 6 to 8 babies per pregnancy, hum?” Scaramouche started to move his own clothes aside, freeing his hardened cock and gently jerking it for a bit to tease the future viewers of this tape.

He quickly moved your own uniform too and revealed your pussy only to himself.

“And that is exactly what I’ll be doing today with my little bunny here…” He spit in his own hand, spreading his own saliva in his palm so he could quickly lubricate his own cock while aligning it with your hole, that has already been prepared prior to this.

With an easy thrust of his hips, he inserted all his length inside you. He wasn’t what one would call “big”, but his lack of masculinity was one of the biggest sellers of his program.

“Ohhhh…” He cooed as he found himself grinding his tip against the deepest corners inside you. “Such a tight little bunny…” He quickly placed his hand on top of your clit and used two fingers to circle it around while he waited for you to adjust to him a bit.

You could help but let a moan of pleasure when he did that.

“Show it to them, Y/N…” His other free hand moved to the camera and he held it stronger than you, forcing it to angle down and show the act happening between you too.

You, once again, accepted his order and decided to let him record what he was doing to you.

“Oh… fuck yeah…” He cooed to the camera in a high-pitched tone, also moaning a bit in a between, making a mixture of dirty noises that would definitely be toe-curling for his viewers.

It was being incredibly difficult to keep your moans to the back of your throat as he started moving his hips back and forth. He placed both his hands on the sheets, mainly focusing on doing the act with nothing that could censor the view of it.

Sometimes you’d aim the camera back to his face or zoom it out the audience could have a bigger view of the moment and Scaramouche.

You still couldn’t understand how you were being helpful to his career at this very moment or how you were different from the different toys he’d use instead of a real body. Was is perhaps just because you were a person? Or maybe your body was actually somehow attractive? It could be possible that whoever watches Scaramouche’s tapes might also find enjoyment in someone with the same body type as you.

“Gee… this cunt is begging for me to fill it up…” Scaramouche suddenly spoke out before his hands moved and gripped your thighs, pushing them down until your knees were resting by your waist.

Due to the favorable position, he started to speed up his thrusts, his noises becoming a bit louder too.

“Hummmm… gonna breed this pathetic pussy until it’s dripping…” Scaramouche cooed, his fingers pressing your legs a bit harder.

You decided to zoom in the act again since it was obvious that he was about to cum soon, and the audience would definitely want to see that happening rather than his face. You’d definitely zoom in his face later, but the ejaculation moment was definitely more important.

“Gonna fill you up…” He repeated that same phrase over and over again, fucking you into a mating press relentlessly.

After a few seconds overstimulating himself, you finally started to feel Scaramouche started to release his cum into your walls, trying to do it as close to your vulva as possible so the creampie would be easier to form.

“Ohhhh… fuuuuckkkk…” He whimpered while stopping his hips for once, his tip lingering against your hole.

For another moment, all you did was witness your organ being dirtied by his essence, the load of cum slowly beginning to drip down outside you, creating a charming moment that the camera caught.

“Look at that…” He gave your pussy a quick smack that made more cum fall out of you.

You rose the camera back to his eye level, which triggered him into keep talking to you and the audience.

“We’re not done until I say we are…”

Taglist: @bigmantiddys @shy-ent @the-stinky-winky @goofy-ego @sasuri123 @alatusorrow @luminieee @toobytub @wandereryumee

Domt forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[yingdu-lover]

angry post

i have a personal problem with this kind of attitude. it's not a petty thing i am unreasonably angry about. there is a politics of translation and it affects one's understanding of art and popular culture/cultural geopolitics.

yes, tbhx has an unprecedented world wide release for a donghua/Chinese media and it's vital for its popularity, especially among transnational fandom spaces. Transcreated works are important for easier access. BUT, my gripe with the Japanese dub of a Chinese media WILL never be resolved. I am not talking about the quality, the issue lies in the very creation of the Japanese dub of a donghua itself. Let me give you an example.

Last year, we had an optional course called translation studies and one of the first things our professor asked was : who are the writers of A Doll's House and Waiting for Godot? He told those few of us who had read these texts closely to shut our mouth and let others take a guess. Most people answered : British writers. The texts are English texts. Because it's so famous among literature enthusiasts and when a piece of literature has a 'classic' tag attached to it, we tend to generalize and oversimplify it. So, a Norwegian playwright's original Norwegian play or an Irish playwright's play originally written in French- both get labelled as British literature. Get my point?

The anime industry is justifiably dominated by Japanese productions but when we forget to accommodate the nuances, the origin culture decays. It is, in many senses, a form of subtle cultural imperialism brought by ignorance.

People complain about Link Click's 'poor marketing' but I think Haolin was clever doing so. Even in the reviews by Indian anime bros™ I see them trying to pronounce 'donghua'. People RECOGNIZE that Link Click is a Chinese media, it's NOT an anime. You may laugh at those link click related youtube video titles saying stuff like : China is taking over anime, this Chinese anime is better than your favourite anime, PEAK Chinese anime, the best anime of 2021 is NOT Japanese?!, Link Click is taking over anime, China's hidden gem, China might have created the best anime of the year- CHINA IS IMPORTANT.

Whenever people talk about Chinese donghua- Link Click, Heaven Official's Blessing, Master of Diabolism etc are mentioned and people KNOW that it looks like anime but not really anime. It's... something... something else. This distinction is critical and essential.

Now, thanks to censorship (the Chinese version is not available on any official platform), many people think (not all people dig that deep while watching things, like come on) Spiritpact is a JAPANESE anime. Who the heck is Tanmouki or whatever. They are are Duanmu Xi and Yang Jinghua.

Reading up to this part if you think I am a Japanese anime hater then...*sighs*. Please read the whole thing again.

I like the Japanese dub of Link Click but there was a c*** in the comments who said "uwu it's not in japanese so I won't watch it" b**** doesn't even understand Japanese. B just wants an 'authentic Japanese anime experience.'

I feared that tbhx would face this issue.

And if you find those people who go : Ahhh, Japanese or Chinese- same thing, even their script look similar- fuck you, fuck you, you loser-fuckrr sinophobe i hope your phone battery dies your charger malfunctions your phone your laptop restarts with all data erased I hope you reek of wet socks and your taste sand all the time fuck you

[rosierin]

some things never change │ suna rintarou

synopsis; the twins & suna decide to watch a horror movie, much to (y/n)'s disdain. later that night, when the darkness stares back at her, she's unable to sleep and asks to stay in her childhood friend's room—suna.

a/n; hi guys!!! thanks so much for the support you've been giving me lately! im starting to recognise some of my regular likers & reposters hehe, y'all are sick <33

this fic is only a short one, but i feel like i've been focusing a lot on atsumu lately, even osamu's got his own story but I haven't given suna any attention whatttt

so anyway here ya go hehe, a lil fic focusing on (y/n) and suna's relationship

also!! this fic is part of the off-season quartet™ series! for more, click here :)

She shouldn’t have watched that horror movie.

She didn’t even like them in the first place. Whether it was a mere thriller, downright gory, or whatever lay in between, (y/n) avoided them like the plague.

But on a random Saturday night, when boredom seeped into the apartment like a wet blanket, someone (Atsumu) decided it’d be a good idea to liven things up by putting on Rings.

Now—allegedly—this movie wasn’t actually scary. That’s what Suna had said, anyway.

“It’s corny. Barely makes it as a horror film, to be honest. More like a bad comedy.”

Bullshit.

There was absolutely nothing corny, let alone comedic, about an undead lady possessing old VHS tapes and crawling out of TVs to MURDER someone. 

Didn’t matter what the twins or Suna thought.

It was terrifying.

And now—in the dead of night, when everything was silent—it was even worse.

The room was pitch black, save for the tiny red dot on her television, staring back at her like the sight of a sniper.

(Y/n) glared at it, unblinking, unwilling to look away.

Because if—God forbid—it turned blue on its own, that meant the TV had somehow switched on.

That meant she was coming. 

That meant (y/n) was done for. 

Her heartbeat thumped against her ribs, heavy and panicked.

Then—

Creak.

A floorboard groaned against the stillness of the room, nearly sending (y/n) into a full-blown panic attack.

Nope. Nope.

Enough was enough.

She tossed the covers aside and bolted.

Her feet barely touched the floor as she sprinted into the hallway, the cool air hitting her like a slap.

She stopped there, pressing a hand over her racing heart, trying to collect herself.

Breathe. Just breathe.

Her pulse slowly settled, but her pride took a hit. Because realistically, was she being dramatic?

Absolutely.

But could she be blamed?

Not even a little.

From a safe distance, she cautiously peered back into her bedroom—half-expecting to see Sadako standing in the corner, her long, raven hair hanging lifelessly over her face.

Instead—darkness.

Eerie. Looming. Suffocating.

A shiver crawled up her spine.

Nope.

She was not going back in there.

The twins were most likely asleep. No way was she waking Atsumu up—he’d never let her live it down. And she felt too guilty waking up poor Osamu. 

That left only one option.

Suna.

He was the only one who would still be awake. And the only one who wouldn’t judge her too hard.

Well— that was debatable. 

Regardless, she turned toward his room—the floor suddenly feeling way too open, way too exposed.

She scurried up the stairs to his loft.

And then, standing outside his door, she hesitated.

Would he think she was being ridiculous?

Would he even let her in?

She inhaled. Then—knock, knock.

A long pause.

Then, finally, a sleepy, unimpressed voice from inside:

“This better be a life-or-death situation.”

(Y/n) pressed her lips together, second guessing her choices.

“Rin— it’s me.”

Soft footfalls came from the other side, then it opened, revealing a very tired, very unamused Suna.

She should have known he wouldn’t be so sympathetic.

She barely had the chance to shuffle inside before he hit her with that unimpressed, half-lidded stare, his arms crossed as he leaned against the doorframe, blocking the way in.

"To what do I owe the pleasure..."

His low, sarcastic drawl, paired with the slight twitch of his eyebrow made (y/n) shift uncomfortably.

Despite knowing each other for so long, growing up side by side, she had never grown immune to those eyes of his— always tired, always unreadable, but never oblivious.

He held her gaze in silent question, only to huff out a laugh when (y/n) picked absently at a loose thread on her sleeve, blatantly ignoring him.

“Lemme guess," he droned. "You can’t sleep after watching that movie, can you?"

(Y/n) sighed, accepting her fate. 

Of course he knew.

“Yes,” she admitted plainly. She knew there was no point in lying—Suna could read her like a book. Knowing him, he probably saw this coming before she did.

“Can I sleep in your room?”

A smirk tugged at his lips, lazy and taunting. “What are you, ten?”

A pout.

An eye roll.

Then, after a dramatic sigh, Suna stepped aside. “Fine. Get in.”

(Y/n) wasted no time, practically diving into Suna’s bed before he could change his mind. She refused to spend another second alone in her room, haunted by the thought of someone crawling out of her TV.

She tugged the blankets up to her chin, peeking at Suna as he climbed back into bed beside her, moving like he’d been seconds from sleep before she knocked. His hair was slightly tousled, his expression drowsy as he got comfortable.

Then, as soon as the room settled into silence—

Creeeeak.

(Y/n) flinched so hard she nearly jumped out of bed.

Her breath hitched. “Did you hear that?”

Suna didn’t even look up from his phone. “No.”

(Y/n) swallowed, fingers clutching the blanket. “…It came from your closet.”

A slow blink.

Then, finally, Suna dragged his gaze toward her. “Don’t tell me—“

“Can you go check?”

A stare. 

A beat of silence.

“Please?”

“You seriously want me to go look inside my closet?”

(Y/n) nodded, eyes wide and pleading.

Resigned, Suna let out a long, suffering sigh. “You’re a handful, you know that?”

He threw off the covers and stood up, trudging over to the closet with the enthusiasm of a man being sent to war. Normally, she would’ve bit back, tossed a jab right back at him—but right now, she couldn’t even register his teasing. Her focus was locked entirely on the closet, her pulse ticking anxiously in her throat as she braced for whatever unspeakable horror lurked inside.

She held her breath.

Suna grabbed the handle.

Opened the door.

Stared into the darkness.

Then—his body suddenly jolted back, his face twisting in alarm.

(Y/n) nearly screamed.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, her soul halfway to the afterlife—

And then, completely deadpan, Suna turned back around.

“Just kidding.”

Silence hung in the air. The tense kind.

Then, (y/n) launched a pillow straight at his head.

Suna snickered, catching it effortlessly before crawling back into bed. “You make this too easy.”

(Y/n) groaned, pulling the covers over her head, sinking into the plush mattress. “You suck. That was so mean.”

“You’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes at his sass, peeking from the duvet. “I should’ve gone to Osamu’s room instead.”

Suna hummed, lazily scrolling through Instagram reels with slow flicks of his thumb. “You say that, but you never do.” His eyes remained on the screen, the faint glow casting shadows across his face, but the amused lilt in his voice told her he was fully aware of her reaction.

(Y/n) frowned slightly, opening her mouth to respond—but then, something about his words lingered.

Because… he was right.

She always ended up here.

Even as kids, she had always ended up with him.

(Y/n) shifted slightly, glancing over her shoulder. “…We used to do this all the time, huh?”

Suna exhaled, his expression softening into something quieter— softer. “Yeah.”

Suna’s quiet confirmation made warmth bloom in her chest. And that’s when the memories came flooding in—hazy, golden images of their childhood. All the laughs and secrets they shared.

She could almost smell the summer air, thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the faint smokiness of a dying bonfire clinging to her clothes. She could almost feel the heat of a cup of hot chocolate warming her palms, the crinkle of sleeping bags shifting beneath them as they huddled close in the dim glow of a flashlight. She remembered staying up for hours, making up stories, daring each other to peek outside into the dark, until exhaustion finally took over.

The memory was so vivid in her mind, so innocent and sweet that she couldn’t help but smile. Her heart swelled with a bittersweet kind of warmth—the kind that only came with remembering something you could never quite return to.

“Remember that one time we slept in your backyard in a tent?” (Y/n) asked, her voice light with nostalgia.

Suna didn’t answer right away. She watched as he lowered his phone onto the nightstand, screen dimming to black. For a moment, his face was illuminated only by the moonlight pouring through the window, his expression almost pensive. He lay sprawled on his back, one arm resting lazily over his stomach, the other tucked beneath his head. Then, a small huff of laughter escaped him, almost like the memory had tugged it out against his will.

“Yeah,” he murmured, stretching one arm out into the darkness, fingers splaying lazily before curling back in. His hand hovered there for a second, as if feeling the weight of the air, then flopped onto his chest. “You got scared of an owl and made me go inside with you.”

(Y/n) gasped, scandalized. “That’s not how it happened!”

She sat up a little, but Suna only chuckled, slow and amused. His other hand drifted absently over his bedsheets, fingertips tracing the fabric in lazy patterns. His lips twitched, but he didn’t correct himself.

“Go on, then. Tell me what happened,” he drawled, eyes glinting faintly in the dark.

(Y/n) propped herself up on her elbows, clicking her tongue. “First of all, the owl was fine. The real problem was a certain someone telling me stories about a serial killer who targets campers.”

Suna let out a quiet noise of vague acknowledgement, tilting his head back against the pillow. “Hm. I don’t recall.”

(Y/n) scoffed, narrowing her eyes. “You specifically said he only goes for ‘the one who falls asleep last,’ so then I felt so stressed to the point I wasn’t even tired anymore.”

At that, the corner of his lips twitched, like he was trying—and failing—not to laugh. “That does sound like something I’d say.”

(Y/n) huffed, flopping onto her back again. “You’re such a bully, honestly.”

“Did I not wait until you fell asleep first, though?”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, but the gesture lacked any real annoyance. A coy smile crept onto her lips, the hush of an old memory settling over her. “I guess you did.”

“There you go.” He stretched an arm over his head, voice laced with smugness. “And yet I hear no ‘thank you, Rin. You’re the best.’”

“It was literally years ago.”

“And yet here you are, still asking to sleep in my bed.”

(Y/n) turned her head just in time to catch the flicker of satisfaction on his face, the way he barely concealed his smirk in the dim light. She squinted her eyes at him, reaching over to shove his arm, but he barely reacted—just let it happen, too used to her antics to be fazed.

Then the conversation faded, the teasing melting into quiet. The air shifted into something softer, something more intimate. Because really, it didn’t feel like much had changed at all.

They were older now, sure. But they still ended up here, side by side, whispering into the quiet.

(Y/n) exhaled, letting her gaze drift over the ceiling. “Feels like we never really grew up.”

Suna hummed lowly, shifting just a little. His hand twitched like he might reach for something but thought better of it. “Nope.”

Silence settled between them, rich with lingering memories of the past. If (y/n) closed her eyes, she could almost hear it—the sharp, carefree laughter echoing off sun-warmed pavement, the rhythmic splashing of pool water as they tried to dunk each other under, the rustling of grass beneath their backs as they gazed up at the clouds, pointing out shapes only they could see.

Things were different now.

They didn’t spend summers chasing each other through sprinklers or racing bikes until the streetlights flickered on.

Now, their time together looked a little different—late-night drives with the windows down, sitting in parking lots sharing fast food, trading woes about the weight of adulthood over the rim of coffee cups. Deadlines, expectations, the quiet pressure of figuring out who they were supposed to be. Their conversations had shifted from debating which anime protagonist was the coolest to venting about work, school, and the creeping realization that growing up wasn’t as exciting as they once thought.

But beneath it all, they were still the same kids who never ran out of things to talk about, the same unshakable duo who could sit in silence and still feel understood. Some things had changed, but their friendship never had.

The thought made her pleasantly sleepy, wrapping around her like a worn-in sweater.

Maybe it was the weight of nostalgia, or just the way comfort made habit so easy to slip back into, but (y/n) shifted closer without much thought, hooking an arm around Suna's torso like it was second nature. Nothing dramatic. Nothing to overthink. Just something she always did—or rather, used to do.

Suna huffed out a quiet laugh, glancing down at her with a rare kind of fondness. “Aren’t you a little old for this?”

(Y/n) only hummed, unbothered, her grin never wavering. “Maybe. But I don’t see you pushing me away.”

He didn’t. Instead, he smiled, shaking his head in quiet amusement as she nestled into the fabric of his oversized t-shirt. His body was warm—solid, safe, the rhythmic thrum of his heartbeat a tune she was long accustomed to.

Without a word, Suna reached over, resting an arm over her waist like it was the easiest thing in the world.

(Y/n) let out a slow breath, her body finally unclenching from the tension that stupid horror movie had left behind.

And for the first time that night, she felt safe.

[goldfades]

thigh riding with Paige... 🤭

𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | paige is ignoring you while she locks in while playing fortnite with kk, but you needed her attention (and she hates it when you're needy)

─ word count | 1.1k (this was supposed to be a blurb bruh)

─ warnings | NSFW under the cut, read at your own discretion! kinda mean paige, thigh riding (who woulda guessed?), nothing else?

─ taglist | @xocherishxo @iienstein @yazmunson @euphternal @hello-nah817 @wanderlusturous @plushkhiii @ilovepaigebueckerss @ajcuteee @vi0lentb3rry @paigeszn @brynsreads @delicateray

"PAIGE," YOU WHINED as she ignored you, her eyes plastered on her computer screen. You rolled your eyes as you sighed, collapsing back on the bed as your girlfriend continued playing Fortnite.

Her headset was on and her glasses were set on the bridge of her nose, her fingers clicking on the keyboard as she played. You were needy and dramatic, sure but it was for good reason, you hadn't seen Paige since the morning and you missed her. Yet right now, it seemed like playing her stupid game meant more to her than her girlfriend.

You wanted her attention but you didn't know how you were gonna get it. As you lay there, feeling neglected, you weighed your options. Interrupting her game would not go over well, but letting your feelings just sit there wouldn't help either.

"Dude they're following us, for sure." Paige mumbled into the headset as she groaned out loud. "I fucking told you, didn't I? I told you to leave it-"

Sighing once more, you sat up and watched her for a moment. The concentration etched on her face was almost endearing, but it also made you feel a bit left out. You wondered if she even realized how much time had passed since she last acknowledged your presence in the room.

An idea popped in your head as a smirk began forming on your lips. You walked up to her quietly, and put a hand on her shoulder as she looked up to see you. "Not right now, baby. Hold on,"

Hold on? Your jaw slightly dropped as you glared at your girlfriend. You couldn't believe Paige ─ her hot and very needy girlfriend was standing right next to her and she wanted her to hold on?

Gathering your courage, you spoke up again, your voice tinged with a hint of irritation. "Paige, seriously," you said, your tone firm. "I've been waiting for you all day, and all I want is a little bit of your time. Is it really too much to ask for?"

"KK, look out behind you!" Paige shouted into the headset, making you audibly groan before Paige finally glanced up at you again, putting a hand over her mic. "What? Why are you giving me attitude for, can't you wait for like, 5 minutes?"

You knew you were being overly dramatic and you knew that Paige hated when you'd give her attitude, especially for something small like this. But you finally had her attention and you were not gonna let it go now.

You met her gaze with a raised eyebrow, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, sorry to inconvenience you with my presence," you quipped, your voice laced with irritation. "I guess I'll just go find someone who actually wants to spend time with me."

Paige's eyes narrowed at your remark, a hint of annoyance flashing across her face. "Really? You're seriously going to pull that card over a stupid game?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, crossing your arms over your chest. "Why not?" you replied, a smug smirk playing on your lips. "It's not like you've paid any attention to me since you started playing anyway."

She sighed as she heard KK talk, "Yeah, I'm still here. Give me two seconds," she spoke as before she muted herself.

Two seconds, you gotta be kidding me. But before you could scoff or roll your eyes dramatically, Paige grabbed your arm and pulled you into her lap roughly. You stumbled as Paige pulled you into her lap, caught off guard by her sudden movement.

"Hey, what are you doing?" you protested, your voice tinged with annoyance as you struggled to regain your balance.

Paige ignored your protest, her grip firm as she held you close to her. "Fucking relax," she mumbled. "You're acting like a bitch in heat right now, you know that, right?"

You rolled your eyes but you couldn't help but feel yourself begin to get warm. Paige kept her gaze on you and as she pulled you off her lap for a second and gestured to your shorts before she unmuted herself. You stood there, almost shocked for a good two seconds before Paige sent you a look before you did as she told you.

You couldn't believe it took Paige a minute to win you back but you weren't complaining, you needed her. She stuck out her knee and you knew what to do ─ you straddled it as Paige kept her eyes locked on the screen.

"Yeah, you got 'em?" Paige spoke lowly as she felt your dampness hit her bare thigh, feeling a shiver go down her spine. Her cold knee sent a shiver down your spine as you bit your bottom lip.

You let a small whimper before Paige began rocking her knee, causing a full-blown moan to escape your lips. Paige sent you a warning glare as your eyes widen, your hand clasping over your hands.

"What was what noise?" Paige scoffed as she kept her gaze on the screen. "I didn't hear anything," she forced out a laugh as she kept rocking her knee, your cunt gliding against it.

You began to move alongside her knee, your head falling back as you gripped her shoulders. You felt pathetic, riding her thigh like a bitch in heat (in Paige's words) but it felt too good to stop. Your hips movements began more sporadic as Paige continued rocking her knee, muffled whimpers coming out of your lips.

Paige could tell that you were close so she put one of her hands on your hips, guiding you harder on her knee. Your eyes rolled on the back of your head as you let out a moan, feeling the knot in your stomach snap as you came undone on her thigh.

Your body felt like jelly as you collapsed on her chest, her hand moving up to the keyboard as she kept playing. A few minutes pass and you heard KK scream from her headset, glancing at the screen. She got it, she and KK had won the Victory Royale.

As the adrenaline from the game subsided, you nestled into Paige's chest, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the earlier tension, being close to Paige like this was all you really wanted.

"Yup, I gotta go, KK. Bro, I'll- yeah, yeah. I got it, I heard you the first time. Okay, I'll see you tomorrow morning." She hung up the call quickly as she pulled off her headset, her hands finally beginning to caress your back.

Paige looked down at you, a soft smile on her lips. "I'm sorry for ignoring you, pretty."

You glanced up at her with a small smile. "It's okay, you made it up."

Paige's soft smile formed into a cocky smirk as she shrugged. "Yeah and I did it with no fingers, huh?"

"None, cus you're just like that," you mumbled as she laughed softly, pulling you closer.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[amywritesthings]

press four for more options. | part two.

( Read on AO3 )

Pairing: levi ackerman x f!reader (attack on titan / shingeki no kyojin) Word Count: 3.5k Summary: After seeing your ex with his new girl at a work party, you take the not-so-smart advice from a friend to call a sex hotline to get over him. Your match? A baritone bossy dom named Levi.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI - smut, alternate universe (modern), sex work, phone sex, dirty talk, dom!levi, light dom/sub, guided masturbation, pet names, nipple play, overstimulation, multiple orgasms Credits: dividers by @saradika-graphics

part one. / part three. | masterlist

2-5-1-2.

It’s an easy enough combination to remember, being Christmas Day and all.

Pressing 2, 5, and 1 is easy. The final '2' makes you second guess yourself.

You’re not sure why you’re panicking. He’ll pick up.

(It’s literally his job, idiot.)

Fuck it.

Your index finger hits the '2' and the hashtag to finalize the combination.

When you hear the line go dead, you tense every muscle in your body.

No breathing.

No blinking.

Just waiting for that silky, sultry siren song to come over and confirm your bias that it’s the single sexiest voice you’ve ever heard.

—but it’s that automated lady you tried to bypass from the menu.

“Please enter your credit card number, followed by the expiration date—”

“Oh, Goddamn it,” you groan, shouldering the phone to shuffle your purse around.

Eventually after some digging, you find your card before she can continue a second loop of her payment spiel. 

You can’t believe you’re legitimately putting your credit card information out there for anyone to steal.

Yet, if Annie’s been doing this for ages, then it ought to be safe.

Right?

After typing in the necessary numbers and confirming they’re correct, you’re so out of your own head that you don’t even realize the line switches from slight static to smooth nothingness.

“So you finally called back.”

“Shit!”

The buttery smooth greeting — or lack thereof — makes you nearly drop your phone.

You gasp and manage to catch the device just in time to hear a chuckle, graveled and low, on the other end.

“And just as jittery as last night.”

“Levi,” you greet breathlessly, straightening your outfit like he can actually see it.

You swear you hear a smile in his voice.

“Hey, baby.”

Oh sweet Jesus.

“Or do you prefer it when I call you Scarlet?”

You prefer literally anything he’ll give you, is what you want to say back, but you don’t want to automatically appear as though you’re ready to be walked like a dog at minute one.

“I’m… fine with ‘baby’,” you confess after a beat, focusing on the swirl of the marble counter below you just to dissociate to his voice.

“Thought so,” he arrogantly states before making this grunting noise, like he’s rolling his body in a chair to get more comfortable. “Are we talking again?"

"Is that alright?"

"You know it is." Levi's voice lifts, softer now. "And how's your Saturday so far?”

“Very mundane and super lackluster,” you admit. “I’m sure you’ve had a much more interesting day than me.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he replies without skipping a beat.

“No?” you ask with a smirk. “I’d say getting people off with the sound of your voice makes for a pretty interesting job.”

“Who said it’s only just my voice?”

Son of a bitch.

The phone shifts from your right shoulder to your left.

“It isn’t?”

He makes a noncommittal hum, and it runs straight to your core. “That's confidential, sweet Scarlet."

"Boo," you joke. "You're no fun."

"You haven't seen me at my fun yet," he corrects. "Speaking of fun: how are you not hungover?"

“The power of heavy tylenol and H2O? Which... I have to apologize that."

"For what?"

"Uh, I pretty much poured my heart and soul out to you last night.”

He chuckles. "I didn't mind it. Feeling any better about that situation?”

“I haven’t really thought about it since last night, so you’re already a miracle worker.”

"Oh?"

"Yeah, no joke."

“Huh." He clicks his tongue. "And what have you been thinking about?”

You say it without realizing you’ve said it out loud:

“You.”

Both ends of the phone go silent.

Your eyes widen, wanting nothing more than to take a pan out of one of the cabinets to bash your head in with anguish. 

“In, like, an interested sense.”

Shit, that isn’t much better.

“An… interested sense,” he repeats, slower this time. His vowels dip deep.

“Oh no,” you bemoan. “Okay. Let me restart: I mean it in like a — you were on my mind? Today, sort of way. So I called.”

“...uh-huh.”

“Because the call ended so quickly!” you add. “I didn’t think it was going to end so abruptly at the fifteen minute mark, but I wasn’t done talking to you, so I called again.”

“You’re shit at asserting yourself, aren’t you?”

His words make you blink twice.

“Huh?”

“You don’t like making decisions or having to explain things,” he replies without judgment. “You think if you want something, then it makes you selfish.”

Ouch.

“Well, when you put it like that,” you reply in a bitter, yet lifted tone of surprise. 

You hear a noise on the other end. A ‘tch’ if you can make it out.

“Sorry," he apologizes. "Too far?’

“No! Too real,” you admit with a small laugh. “And I’m sure you don’t want to play analyst-therapist tonight, so.”

“I’m here to do anything you want,” he reminds, syrup-y sweet. 

“Anything?”

“Mostly anything,” he adds, and there’s a tiny chuckle bubbling between the words that makes your heart flutter. “Can’t hold a tune worth a damn and I don’t know how to speak some languages, so there are limitations.”

You laugh despite yourself, feeling your stress melt.

Then—

A small groan, like his head's tilting backwards. “Damn, I like hearing that.”

You turn away from your kitchen counter, subconsciously padding to your bedroom. “Hearing what?”

“Your laugh,” he explains. “It’s sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“Very.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you say, rolling your eyes playfully.

Dark hair. Gray-ish blue eyes. Sharp nose. High cheekbones.

Fit.

When your eyes flicker to your own bed, you try to picture a version of him waiting there.

He could be leaning back on his elbow, button-down shirt splayed open like a newly-peeled present.

Maybe his legs are parted.

Maybe he stares at you like you’re all he could ever want.

His voice cuts through the fantasy, causing your breath to catch.

“What do you want, baby?”

Then it drops an octave lower.

“...c’mon, be selfish for once.”

For once.

Like he can read your soul through a damn cell phone.

But Levi is right — your entire short-lived relationship with Porco and just about any other man before him has been through a small lens. Fitting in the middle seat just to never make any noise. To bend with the curve rather than against it to create your own path.

It’s just a sex hotline, but for some reason, his words resonate.

Be selfish.

Wasn’t that the point of calling in the first place?

“Anything?” you repeat a second time, much softer.

Levi shuffles on the other line then exhales like he’s getting comfortable.

“What do you need?” he asks, tone low and words slower. 

Purposeful. 

“What do you want?”

You close your eyes, drawing in a slow, steady inhale.

Are you seriously doing this?

No more overthinking.

“Should I... get comfortable?” you ask, too afraid to say what it is that you want.

What you’re about to do.

“Mm, you near a couch or a bed?”

“A bed.”

“Don’t get on it yet,” he orders, “but walk towards it. Bend over it.”

Jesus Christ.

“Bend over it?” you ask with a shaky breath of disbelief.

“Yeah,” he confirms. “You’re home from a long day. I’m home from a long day. All you’ve wanted all day is to have someone tell you what to do, right?”

As much as your face feels like it's on fire, you slowly walk to your bed and put the phone down between your splayed palms.

You press the speaker option to ‘on’, and feel a wave of arousal hit your gut when you hear him sigh through the phone.

“I thought you said you wanted me to be selfish,” you remind, bending over your bed.

“You’re allowing me to take charge,” he retorts with little hesitation. “You’re letting me take care of you the way you always should’ve been taken care of. Your ex-boyfriend has no fucking clue what he’s missed out on.”

You exhale, trying to keep it together.

“Levi—”

“I’m right here, baby,” he huskily promises. “Right here. Not leaving you.”

You feel ridiculous.

You’re so turned on it’s almost laughable.

“You ready to let me take control?” he eventually asks, and you nod like he can see you.

“Yeah, I’m— I think so.”

“I like using a red-yellow-green light system,” Levi hums. “Red’s a hard stop. Yellow is negotiating, a slow down to check in. Green means you’re in.” He pauses, and you lean down closer to your phone, bending further. “Color?”

Even on speaker, his voice rips straight through you.

“Green,” you decide, blurting before your brain can catch up.

“Good girl.”

You’re not going to survive this.

“Are your lights off?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” he decides. “I want you to crawl slowly onto the bed now. Can you do that for me?” 

Your hand slides obediently, passing over the phone as you begin to rest one knee on the mattress. It dips with give. 

“All the way up to your pillows, then you can lay on your back — but keep your eyes closed.”

“Okay.”

Eventually you drag your phone with you as you crawl to the headboard of your bed, only to then slowly turn around and drop to your back.

“Are your eyes closed?”

With the phone speaker right at your ear, it almost lends itself to the fantasy of him hovering above you.

His lips dip at the edge of your ear, the static lost to you.

“Yes,” you exhale, relaxing into the bed.

“Good. You’re doing so good for me already, and we’ve barely started.” He pauses, shifting once more. “What’re you wearing, baby?”

“Something so not sexy,” you joke, and it earns a breathy laugh from him.

“Bet you can make anything sexy,” he tells you, and it shoots straight to your lower belly.

“How would you know?” you ask, your hand already reaches for the hem of your shirt. “You’ve never even seen me.”

“No, but I hear you, and it’s fucking delicious.”

Your breath hitches, and you can hear it; the smile in his voice.

“Take everything off, except your underwear.”

“Bra, too?”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” he tells you, and it’s much less breathy. It’s certain, like he wants to check in — make sure you’re just as into it as he sounds. “Would you rather I help you take that off?”

Your brain blanks.

Slowly you push your jeans off first, kicking them to some unknown corner.

Then you rise, ripping your t-shirt off of your body, until you’re sitting in your mismatched bra and panties.

“How would you take it off of me?” you boldly ask, though you can’t quite get rid of the shake of anticipation in your voice.

“Fuck, I’d love to,” he grunts, and your face burns. “I’d be so busy pressing small, slow kisses to your neck. Reach up and touch your neck for me. Feel how I’d kiss it.”

You do.

As surprised as anyone else, you reach up and press your fingers against small parts of your neck, earning him a tiny gasp and noise of want.

“Dragging down to your throat.”

You press two gentle fingers to your skin again, following his path, before slamming your thighs together to try and relieve the heat between your legs.

“My finger would just… slip, right under the right strap of your bra.”

Your fingers dance across your collarbone, slipping your middle finger just under the delicate strap to mirror.

With your eyes closed, the motions lend to an almost out-of-body experience.

Like your hand trailing down your body isn’t yours; it’s his.

You’re his, right now.

“Is this okay?” he whispers, and you nods furiously.

“Very.”

“Good. Let me pull the other one down. I wanna see how pretty my girl is.”

The praises, the way he so easily speaks this way, has you all sorts of flustered.

Slowly you raise your other hand to pull down the strap, and whimper when you tug down as far as you can.

Your breasts spill out over the cup, allowing your hardened nipples to greet the night air.

“Can I touch you?”

The words almost make you open your eyes, as if you’ll see this mystery man hovering over you.

You know he's not here.

You wish he were right here.

“Yes.”

“How do you like to be touched, baby? Show me.”

“Levi,” you whine, allowing your shaky hands to run along your breasts.

You’re afraid, you’re exhilarated, but when you finally pinch the little buds and roll them between your fingers, you’re too far gone to care.

“Fuck—”

“Feels good, huh?” Levi’s own breathy voice interrupts your curse. “You look so beautiful like this. Letting me play with you— God, I could do this for hours—”

“Want you to.”

You don’t even recognize your own breathy tone. 

Hell, you only hear him.

You only feel him.

“Need more,” you pant, and he hums with amusement.

“No,” he replies, “think I’m gonna play with you a little more right here for now.”

You accidentally pinch your nipples, harder, like he’s teaching you a lesson.

“Levi.”

“What, is my girl getting impatient?”

His girl.

You don’t even know him, but you’d sure as hell like to be.

(How easy is it, for you to fall so fast from your judgmental high horse when Annie first slipped you this number — only for you to be moaning on your bed, hands groping and kneading your breasts, for a man you didn’t know?)

“Y-You said,” you stammer, “to be selfish, and I want—”

“Shh, I’m gonna take good care of you, okay?” Levi interrupts on the other end. “But you have to do something for me, too.”

“What is it?”

“I don’t want you holding back on me. No shyness. No second guesses. I want you, I want to hear what I do to you. Is that understood?”

You can’t take it.

Your one hand leaves your chest to skim down to your belly, unable to wait any longer.

“I want you to touch me,” you hiccup.

“Yeah?”

His voice wavers in the response before it strengthens. Demands.

“I want those panties gone first. Take them off and spread your knees. Feet flat on the bed.”

No need to be told twice; you hastily pull your panties down your hips, your knees, until they pool at one of your ankles.

Your knees knock together before spreading, and you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I want to touch you, too, baby.” Levi swallows, coating his throat. “How wet are you for me?”

Fingertips run past your lower belly to touch the apex of your thighs, gasping with surprise and relief when you feel that familiar electricity.

“Really fucking wet,” you admit.

The groan he emits is delicious. “Fuck.”

For a moment, you feel completely out of your depth. 

This is meant to be a sex hotline, but there are lines blurred in your mind. Something about the sheer image of him leaning back into his chair, fucking a fistful of his cock while he has a phone operator headset against his ear, only turns you on that much more.

“If we had time, I’d spend all night memorizing what you taste like. What you feel like. How you let go — for me, only for me.”

“Only for you,” you promise, unable to stop yourself from drawing circles over your clit.

You moan, head bent back against your pillow.

“Fuck, you’re touching yourself, aren’t you?” he asks, and his voice seems less controlled now. It’s got a hint of raggedness, and it only quickens your pace. “You feel amazing, you know that? Such a pretty pussy, all spread and wet for me—”

“Shit, Jesus, Levi,” you gasp, knowing that you’re not going to last long.  You’re too wound up from the night before. “If you keep talking like that—”

“What, are you gonna come for me?” Amusement tickles the question. “Oh, you can come for me, baby, but I’m gonna need at least two from you tonight.”

Your fingers press a little harder to your clit, and you keen. 

“Wh– At least?”

“As if I’d ever be satisfied with only one,” he murmurs. “No, I wanna watch you come apart. Feel it on my fingers with those cute little contrac—”

That’s it.

You moan louder than you expected, the taut bowstring suddenly snapped in half. 

You arch off the bed, relentlessly rubbing your fingers against your body to ride out the insane orgasm that you — that Levi has given you.

Even if you’re blissed out, you hear it on the receiving end:

“That’s it. That’s my girl. Fuck, you sound amazing. I know it’s gonna be tough, but keep going for me, okay? Don’t stop.”

“It’s sen– ha, sensitive!” you whimper, wanting to stop your hand.

“Mm-mm, you said you’d be good. Be selfish, baby. Give me two.”

“But Levi!”

Everything is on overdrive.

Your hand; your body; your mind.

You imagine he’s hovering over you, working you with his hand with a near-sadistic relentlessness.

As you battle your own refractory period, your toes curl, teeth clenched.

You want to be good.

You want to be so good.

And somewhere in that overwhelming intensity, you feel it: the ebb and flow of pleasure returning, crawling through your veins and forcing you to not give up.

To give this to him.

Then you hear it: panting.

As if he’s getting off to this himself. Your eyes snap open, wide, to an empty room. 

When your cheek turns to the phone, you confirm that’s what you hear:

Ragged breaths, albeit softly, with added grunts of control. 

Like he’s holding back.

Something about that image of him in a chair, his hand relentlessly pumping his cock in time with your hand, your whimpers and moans, does damage.

“I need— mm— want— please.”

“I’m right here, baby,” Levi promises, though his voice is weaker. You can even hear him swallow again. “Right fucking here, wanna hear you cum so bad.”

Maybe you really were pent up enough for two, because soon you’re slipping — falling — into that blissful nothingness while your body clenches on itself, clit fluttering from a second release.

It’s less intense, but that doesn’t make it any less good.

Everything throbs in your body as you come down, panting, with a slight sheen of sweat on your skin.

You turn to your phone, totally gone in the bliss of the aftermath.

Levi has grown silent as well; only light puffs of air come through the speaker now.

“Feeling better?” Levi asks with a hint of pride in his voice.

“Shut up,” you answer with a gentle laugh of your own. “I’m… shit. I guess that’s why they pay you the big bucks.”

That statement gets Levi to laugh, and your heart feels twice as full.

“That’s one way of pillow talk, I guess.”

The man pauses.

“Are you alright?”

As if he’s truly concerned, worried about your wellbeing.

You don’t allow yourself to fall for it, not completely.

This is his job — even if it felt so real, in the moment.

“Much better,” you promise, smiling to yourself.

“Happy to help,” he hums, his voice returning to that stormy swirl of seduction and softness.

The sobering reality of an empty bedroom should deter you, but all you can do is smile.

(When is the last time you genuinely felt giddy? Excited? Satisfied?)

“Hey, Levi,” you murmur eventually, slowly sitting up to unhook your bra and toss it away. No need to keep it on.

“Yeah, baby?”

You’ll never get over the way he sounds when he calls you that.

It’s permanently stuck to your frontal lobe, obscuring any other logic or reality.

“Am I still allowed to call?”

“Allowed?”

“Yeah, even though we…”

“What, you think you get one experience and your membership is up?”

Levi chuckles, shifting in his seat — or bed — or wherever he is.

“You can call me anytime you want.”

“Any?”

“Between company hours, yeah.”

“Even to talk?”

“Of course,” he answers, softer this time. “Always to talk. Go get some rest.”

“Mm,” you mumble, turning on your side as exhaustion takes over. “I will, but only because I want to and I’m being selfish.”

It surprises you to hear him laugh again, but it’s louder now.

More prominent. 

As if he genuinely enjoyed your joke.

Get your head out of the clouds, girl, is what you want to say to yourself, but you can’t be bothered to care.

“Good. You earned it.”

A noise emits from your tired throat to acknowledge him, too sleepy to formulate a real sentence.

Then his voice drops to a whisper, for your ears and your ears alone.

“Goodnight, baby.”

You press the ‘end call’ button and fall into the deepest sleep you’ve had all year.

.

Author's Note:

Thank you for reading part two of P4! This is insane. I still cannot believe the feedback I got in part one. Seriously, you all made my June. I hope this next part has satisfied your curiosity of how Levi would be a hotline operator.

Thank you for likes, and even more love to those who choose to reblog this to help spread the word of this series or reply in the comments. ilu xo

[kingkatsuki]

>>> Reply sent at 1:28AM: who knew Dynamight was such a slut?

Read the other replies here.

Here is my part to the Thirst Trap collab for Bakugou’s birthday! Please check out all the other fics at the link above💕

Happy Birthday to the King👑

Warnings: 18+, intoxicated Bakugou, dirty talk, sending dirty videos, sexting, m!masturbation, voyuerism, exhibitionism, creampies.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Shindou Yo x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.6k.

Bakugou’s thumb paused against the screen when he saw that particular message in a sea of hopeful replies, a lump tight at the back of his throat as he swallowed thickly in a feeble attempt to clear it.

He’d recognise that profile photo anywhere. Grand’s girlfriend.

Bakugou had spent more than one night fisting his cock to the thought of you, although he’d never admit it. Remembering just how pretty you looked at the hero gala last month in a dress that left very little to the imagination, leaving him bricked up for his acceptance speech as he thought about bending you over in the men’s bathroom stalls.

And part of him thought he might even have a chance with you, if he could get you away from Grand just long enough. Remembering the syrupy scent of your perfume invading his senses when you stood up on tip-toes to wrap your arms around his broad shoulders to give him a hug after he’d received his award; leaving a sticky lipgloss stain against the shell of his ear when you whispered against it how proud you were of him. And he was certain he wouldn’t make it out of the building alive. His boxers now glazed with dry pre and his cock throbbing desperately for any kind of sweet relief.

And now you were messaging him?

Bakugou was quick to click onto your profile, navigating directly towards the direct message option to see he’d already received a slew of them, but they didn’t appear to be from you.

YOU[1:57AM]: Aww you didn’t think that message was actually from her, did you?

Shit, Bakugou grunted as his cock still throbbed pitifully between his thighs, of course Shindou was the one texting from your phone and not you. Certain he could hear Shindou’s condescending tone through text.

YOU[1:58AM]: Oh, you did? You sick fuck hahahahaha.

YOU[1:58AM]: She’d never message you without telling me anyway.

Bakugou growled in irritation as he read through each message. Of course, Shindou texts were just as annoying as the man was in real life.

YOU[1:59AM]: But you should’ve seen how excited she got when you sent that tweet.

YOU[2:00AM]: It made her stupid little crush on you even worse.

Wait, what? Bakugou’s heart pounded at the realisation as he saw the next message. A link to a video that had a pitch black screen to start, his heart hammered against his chest as he clicked onto it.

And there you were spread out in all your naked glory. The sordid fantasies Bakugou had while stroking his cock at night would never compare to the sight of you like this— spread out against tousled sheets as you stared up at the camera through thick lashes.

The perfect point of view, Bakugou thought as he imagined himself above you.

“I guess I should be thanking you for this, Dynamight.” Shindou sneered, reaching out to mould one of your round breasts between slender fingers. Pinching at your taut nipple as a groan rumbled deep in Bakugou’s chest, “Getting my girl all riled up in the middle of the night.”

Bakugou wondered if he’d actually fallen asleep, because this had to be a dream. Reaching down to palm his cock through his damp boxers as crimson eyes roamed your naked skin, trying to commit the sight to memory.

“Lucky I was right here to fix it,” He continued, “That what got you excited huh, sweetheart?”

Shindou’s voice rung out from behind the camera as he fucked into your body with slow, deliberate thrusts. Each precise motion had your tits bouncing, a calculated move from his rival, he thought. Watching the way your lips parted in sultry moans every time he drew back, trying to coax him deeper as your cunt gushed around him.

“Thinking about Dynamight’s hard cock.” And Bakugou’s cock was hard, throbbing with neglect as he wrapped a large fist around himself to curl his wrist. Smearing pre, that was now drooling down his engorged head along the length of him as crimson eyes watched the video.

“He shoulda just text you if he wanted a birthday treat, huh?” Shindou continued, panning the camera down to where your bodies were connected so Bakugou could see the creamy rings of slick around the base of his cock each time he drew his hips back, “You’d have been more than happy to get on your knees for him.”

Bakugou whined pitifully at the thought of you like that, looking up at him all pretty and shit as you wrapped your glossy lips around his cock. His hand tightened around himself as he he pumped himself with calculated measure. Following Shindou’s movements as he fucked into your warm, wet cunt as he tried to replicate the sensation. Positive that nothing would ever feel as good as the real thing—

“Say his name, sweetheart,” Shindou continued, bringing the camera up towards your face, “Come on, it’s his fuckin’ birthday.”

“Katsuki,” The lewd squelch of your cunt aired in the background as Bakugou focused in on the desperate lilt to your voice when you repeated it, “Katsuki.”

Bakugou grunted as he leaned forward, pursing his lips together to spit onto his cock. Smearing the moisture along his length as he imagined it was you sinking down onto his length instead.

“God, you’re such a nasty slut,” Shindou continued, as though he hadn’t been the biggest instigator, “Moaning another guys name while I’m balls deep. Bet you’re thinking about him fuckin’ this sweet, sweet cunt too?”

“Oh my god, fuck—” You mewled, hands reaching up to paw at your tits as Bakugou watched the way your hands dipped into the soft skin.

“Is that it?” Shindou pressed, “You want Dynamight to fuck this sloppy pussy?”

“Yes!” You cried out, cunt clenching around him.

“Oh, shit.” Shindou rasped, the camera angle faltering as he jolted with pleasure. Almost dropping his phone as he readjusted himself above you, the camera now angled lower to show Shindou’s thick cock disappearing inside your tight cunt. A sheen of your slick glistened around the base of him as he kept his languid pace.

“We should invite him round, then?” Shindou continued, “It is his birthday, after all.”

You gasped at the implication, your body reacting to your boyfriend’s words as he smirked down at you. Giving the side of your thigh a playful swat as you moaned in response.

“Yeah? You like the sound of that?” Shindou cooed, “She clenched around me so fucking hard when I said that.”

Bakugou groaned, squeezing his fist around himself in a pitiful attempt to mimic the action. Trying to replicate the grip of your cunt around him as he pictured the pretty faces you’d make for him.

“‘m close,” You panted, biting down on your bottom lip as Bakugou felt his balls tightening at the sight, dangerously close to his own end.

“Yeah? You gonna cum?” Shindou coaxed, his thumb disappearing between your thighs to press taut circles to your puffy clit, “Show Dynamight how pretty you look when you’re cumming all over my cock, sweetheart.”

And fuck, did you look pretty. Bakugou thinks. Your eyes rolling to show their whites as your lashes flutter, lips curled into the prettiest moan he’s ever heard as you begin to convulse. Nails leaving dark lines against your tits as you mould the supple skin, thighs raising in the air to try and clamp down around Shindou’s hips.

“Fuck,” Bakugou snarled between clenched teeth as he sped up his movements, rough and sloppy as he desperately tried to meet your climax. Wanting to tumble into bliss by your side as the camera moved back towards your slick heat, his hips jerking sloppily as he felt himself come undone. Sending streams of milky cum against his hand, thighs and the new sheets he’d put on for his special day. A whole ass mess.

“Bet you would’ve preferred cumming inside this perfect little pussy,” Shindou spoke, as if he knew Bakugou would be touching himself while watching.

Slowly pulling his spent cock out of your trembling hole before moving the phone between your thick thighs so Bakugou could see the gape. A stretch Bakugou wished he’d inflicted on you as he brought his phone closer to his face to try and see the way your walls still fluttered in the aftershocks of your release, his spent cock throbbing when he noticed you begin to push Shindou’s warm spunk out of your abused hole. Watching it drool down between the curve of your ass before Shindou’s thumb came up to collect it; pushing it back inside you as you let out another sinful moan of delight.

“You think Dynamight would fuck you this good, sweetheart?” Shindou coaxed as the pads of his fingers circled your stretched hole.

“Mmm, I think he would,” You mumbled, gasping when Shindou’s palm came down hard on your slit, catching you by surprise.

“Course you’d think that,” Your boyfriend laughed, shaking his head as he leaned down to press a kiss to your pouty lips.

“Maybe you should come and get your birthday head,” Shindou turned the camera around to show his smirking face as he sat shirtless above you, “So you can show her how tiny your cock really is.”

Bakugou shared up at the ceiling with blown out eyes, wondering if he’d sobered up enough to move as his chest still heaved with the intensity of his climax. Taking a deep breath before he moved to stand, grabbing his keys off the bedside table as he shoved his softening cock back into his jeans.

Fuck it, he’ll get an Uber.

[midnightsmusings]

-Kneel, Alpha- Pt. 2

I did it! This was harder than expected, getting the dynamics right with Ghost's reluctance to accept his submission. Nevertheless! Smut is here: (although I apologize I didn't mean for it to be this LONG I just had so much to say about these two)

This is WAY different than the wip I posted so enjoy that as a little peek into how my brain works I guess?

-CW: 18+ MDNI, handjob, top omega Soap, bottom alpha Ghost, Ghost's a little mean to himself

Ghost swallowed, groaning as Soap's hand squeezed. He was waiting for the laughter at the way an alpha was acting needy from an Omega snarling and shouting at him.

Yet when he glanced up after the silence became too agonizing he didn't find disgust. Instead Ghost watched as the realization on Soap's face quickly turned to pure want.

Ghost let out another sound, embarrassingly whinier than the last one as that dark gaze trailed down to his lap. Flushing under his mask Ghost squirmed knowing even through the humiliation and stress of this whole ordeal his pants were still tight. Straining up against the warm palm.

"I can't be anything like what an alphas supposed to be" Ghost muttered through a clenched jaw. Still trying to save face even with the omega's hand squeezing his clothed cock. His voice was tight as everything he'd been holding back was now out. Ghost felt flayed open and exposed now, seen as the sorry excuse for an alpha he was.

"You're everything I want in an alpha ye old fashioned git" Soap finally said, his own voice lowered and equally strained. This was how Ghost chose to explain? Make him feel up his bulge? God Soap was hopelessly in love with him.

Soap couldn't resist giving another squeeze, just to hear that low groan again, to see those eyes roll and feel Ghost's length twitch.

"Ye think..after a life of me being told to quiet down, to be more submissive I'd fall for a partner who would want ta' tell me the same thing?"

Soap sighs fondly, anger flooding out of him. He figured the man brushing him off was another part of that front he put up, gruff and unapproachable. Figured Ghost was wary of letting his guard down after the shit he's been through. Soap never guessed it was because the alpha would melt so easily at a sharp tone and a some rough handling. Would hate that side of himself.

Soap knew a talk needed to happen. The stubborn alpha wasn't in a place to voice his wants, probably wouldn't be without a lot of work.

So, he leaned back and lifted his hand off the cock that was just begging to be rubbed raw. Soap's own length hardening at the low pained whine Ghost let out from the full loss of touch.

"Och I know" he cooed sweet and teasing at the halfhearted glare sent his way before turning more serious, gaze sharpening and taking in each minuscule reaction.

"Now yer gonna go shut and lock that door" Soap said with a commanding tilt as he jerked his head towards the still wide open door of Ghost's office.

Ghost sat, mind whirling as he looked up at Soap, thinking of nothing but his ache for relief and the man's commanding tone. Eventually his mind cleared in understanding.

It was an out. Soap was giving him an out.

A subtle one, but one nonetheless.

Ghost stood and walked stiffly to the door, body tense warring with himself between using this option and walking out that door...or shutting it and accepting he was a soft and shite alpha.

Soap watched with bated breath as Ghost hesitated, gloved hand tight around the knob before the man finally shut the door and locked it with a loud click. Soap watches with a grin as he turned, looking surprisingly bashful.

"Good lad, come sit that pretty arse back down" Soap commanded kicking the chair out towards him with a smirk. His blood was thrumming and scent deepening with arousal at the sight of the large alpha following his orders so well, even if he was still putting up that bratty act.

Ghost let out a soft growl, irritated the way his cheeks heated up at that praise but stomped over. Sure he shut that door, signaled he wanted this but that didn't mean he could stomach acting like an obedient welp.

"Isn't that what you are though?" His mind helpfully supplied.

As soon as Ghost slumped back in the chair Soap reached his free hand up to grasp his angled jaw, tugging at the fabric of his mask.

Ghost felt the fabric sliding over his skin, only reacting with a snapping of teeth just shy of Soap's fingers but otherwise letting him tug it up.

He couldn't hide the flush deepening on his half exposed face at Soap's teasing chuckle from his halfhearted attempt.

"Bite me if ye want but I'm fuckn kissing ya" Soap said eyes dark and blood thrumming in his veins.

Ghost paused, cock throbbing as Soap leaned down. The words weren't a growl or a warning, they were said with a casual acceptance that had Ghost melting back into the chair and his scarred lips slipping open in answer.

Soap hummed as the man went pliant under him, soft pants escaping his mouth. Soap didn't actually worry about being bit the closer he got to the Alpha.

He would wear Ghost's teeth marks proudly and knew he was just struggling to accept Soap wanted this. Wanted him

"I'll bite you if you don't kiss me" Ghost grumbled pressing his teeth into Soap's thumb impatiently as the omega just looked.

Ghost was completely undone, aching and getting exactly what he's been missing for so long. At least he would if Soap hurried up.

With a narrowed yet fond gaze Soap finally sealed their lips together and twin groans of relief rang out. They moved together desperately, teeth clashing and desperate sounds being swallowed as Ghost shifted forward in the chair as far as he could. Soap smiled against his lips and pushed him back down, a warning squeeze to his cock as a silent command to stay still.

"Ye didn't think I was holdin back too?" Soap growls against Ghost's mouth once he finally pulls back. He bit at Ghost's notched upper lip before diving in for another sloppy kiss. Soap was more confident now that he's put it all together. Licking into the alphas mouth unashamedly while keeping his grip on Ghost's cock just shy of enough.

"I didn't-you never...fuckn hell" Ghost stumbled over his words, panting and reeling. His mind stuck on the hand torturously squeezing his cock and the tongue in his mouth. His head was blank, any hope of defending his choices going out the window under Soap's ability to make him feel so small.

The scent of the omega was saturated around him, it wasn't like the usual sickly sweet scent that made Ghost's stomach roll. No, Soap's scent was harsh and smoky, like a wildfire.

Soap just chuckled down at the man, delighted to see his walls crumbling.

Instead of going back for more, flooding the alphas mouth with the taste of him Soap stood back up. He stroked Ghost's spit slick lips his fingers. The touch reverent and savoring this moment despite the heat and need thrumming between them.

He felt the clenching of Ghost's jaw, saw the war of emotions in his eyes and decided to keep prodding. Knew it wouldn't end how it did last time based on the length under his palm only getting harder.

"Didnae not think I might be worried an alpha wouldn't want some hardheaded omega who wanted ta take control?"

Those words finally got through to Ghost, his squirming ceasing as he blinked up at the man dumbly for a moment. Soap wanted control?

Ghost groaned a low pained noise at the confirmation. There was still a tinge of irritation in Soap's scent but under that Ghost scented want and desire. His gloved hands clenched on the arm rests of his chair as he took a deep breath in, his hips immediately jerked up into Soap's hand, rocking with intent now.

"Shite-god Johnny" he panted out, eyes lidded as he looked up at Soap. None of his swirling thoughts would it past his clenched teeth.

"I'd give it to you, anything you asked for" he wanted to say, but the words were choked back by another rumbling moan leaving his lips.

Ghost's actions always spoke louder anyways.

Soap just clicked his tongue at the needy motions, his own cock throbbing at the sight the alpha made. Ghost's thighs clenching as he practically humped Soap's hand. While it took a lot of force to take his hand away when all he wanted to do was take, he had to teach a lesson here.

"Ah ah, greedy" he chided, humming at Ghost's irritated growl from the loss of stimulation. He caught Ghost's thick arm as it shot down to his lap, intending to finish what Soap stopped. Soap just shook his head with another click of his tongue.

"Cmon now Ghost, ye gotta start asking for what you want"

Ghost let out a drawn out groan, head dropping back as he keeps getting denied stimulation. He worked his jaw for a moment, fingers trailing up Soap's arm that held his own back from giving himself the relief the omega was drawing out.

"Fuckn 'ell it's been so long just do anything" Ghost got out finally, skin buzzing and flushed hoping desperately that was enough for the touch to resume. He would die before admitting his tone was begging.

"There's a good lad" Soap hummed far too pleased and smug as he pressed a smacking kiss to Ghost's lips.

"We'll work on mannners aye?" Soap chuckled tone full of promise as he tilted his head down at Simon, delighting in the alpha's clear desperation for him. It was heady, having the elusive Ghost groaning under him, hard and dripping.

"Been achin for it huh?" Soap rumbled, hand moving from his arm up to squeeze over his bicep and finally to his neck.

Ghost arched up, nodding desperately along to the man's words and wanting the touch on his neck to tighten, to claim.

However, what came out of his mouth was a shaky, barely convincing rebuttal.

"No, take care of m'self fine" Ghost grunted his head arching into the long fingers sliding under the mask at his nape.

"Oh aye that so?" Soap retorted with that damned teasing and knowing chuckle that had Ghost sure he was going to burst untouched in his pants.

"Go on then, show me how good ya take care of yerself" Soap ordered close to his ear, giving a silent tug to the bottom of his mask but otherwise leaving it alone.

Ghost didn't even hesitate before ripping the fabric off, body shivering at the command and almost completely coming out of his chair to rear up and claim Soap's mouth, silencing the words that had him crumbling too fast.

"Bloody hell stop teasing" Ghost growled and bared his teeth when Soap pulled away again after a lick to his lips, pressing down on his broad shoulders to settle him in the chair again.

"Shh cmon lemme look at ya" Soap huffed grinning at the low guttural whine that left the man's lips as his hand tangled in his blond hair and tugged. "There's my bonnie alpha" Soap cooed eyes raking over Ghost's face unabashedly, watching how the pretty flush over his cheeks highlighted the various scars cutting through the pale skin.

Soap wanted to lavish each deep mark on his body with a kiss. Ached to replace each memory of pain with the softness of his lips and gentle nips of his teeth as he left his own loving mark over them. Ghost shifted in his chair, growing impatient as his hips twitched up in need. He felt fuzzy at the way Soap was holding his chin tight, casually staring at him as long as he wanted.

Usually it would make Ghost's skin crawl but right now he just felt..adored. It was a feeling an alpha should balk at, should puff up at but instead it made Ghost melt a little. He yearned for this, to be lavished with attention and praise.

Ghost's gloved hands trailed mindlessly down to his lap, a gruff moan slipping past his parted lips as he finally pressed into the bulge there but didn't allow himself to go any further, instead looked up at Soap with wide, pleading eyes. He wouldn't, couldn't ask for permission but needed it all the same.

"There's a lad go on" Soap urged, drinking in that desperate and needy gaze. It took a lot of restraint to not wrap his own hand around the red and pulsing cock as Ghost finally undid his pants, both of them groaning as it was freed.

Even for an alpha Ghost was big, uncut and twitching. Ghost wrapped a gloved hand around the base, as he squeezed his head fell back against the chair. Eyes shutting tight with a choked off moan.

"Steamin' Jesus beautiful fuckn' thing look at you" Soap groaned stepping even closer into the alpha's space, forcing his thick thighs open and tightening his hold in his blond hair.

Soap's eyes were stuck on Ghost's cock, the way it leaked with each upstroke of his hand, still gloved and surly adding a rough texture that Ghost didn't seem to mind.

The prominent vein along the bottom just begging to be licked. Soap's mouth watered, he was transfixed and utterly gone.

Ghost was reduced to pants and moans, words gone to him as he kept his eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to acknowledge the omega standing over him, praising him, fuck guiding him through this.

His hips jerked up as Soap's words kept tumbling out of his lips, hand tugging his hair and forcing his head back up for a kiss that was all teeth.

Ghost knew he shouldn't like this. Shouldn't be leaking precum like an omega leaking slick at being under Soap's control but here he was, already on the edge after just a few strokes and growled commands.

"Soap fuck-I'm gonna" Ghost gasped, words cutting off with a choked moan as the omega slid from his wide open lips to his neck, harsh bites combined with soft kisses were making him dizzy and Ghost shuddered as his knot grew. Pulsing and an angry red.

"Tha's a good alpha, now cum for me" Soap said with a commanding growl. Ghost shook his head for a moment, a low hesitant whine leaving his lips as he struggled against the overwhelming rush of pleasure.

The second he spilled over this would become all too real. Soap stoked this side of him, the side he's been ignoring for decades and Ghost wasn't sure how to just let it happen.

"Be good and cum" Soap rumbled. He noticed Ghost getting lost in his head and that wouldn't do.

He reached down, wrapping his calloused hand around the alpha's pulsing knot and squeezed, relishing in the snarling moan Ghost let out.

Ghost's orgasm was wrenched from him as soon as Soap touched his cock. Their hands bumping as Ghost's worked furiously now, immediately responding to Soap's demand.

Ropes of cum landed on the front of Soap's pants embarrassingly fast. Ghost worked himself through it, panting heavily and open mouthed, the orgasm feeling like it lasted hours as cum steadily leaked out.

He'd never had such a satisfying release, his body slumping boneless in the chair and face nuzzling into the omegas neck after finally softening.

"Bonnie thing ye are, how copy?" Soap murmured tone soft as he guided his face out of his neck, gaze raking over him and taking in his lax posture. The alpha flushed and looking fucked out.

Soap felt pride surge through him, reducing Ghost to this with barely a touch had him clutching the man tighter. Determined to never let him go now.

Ghost couldn't get words out, simply pressed a tired kiss to Soap's wrist that was near his face, the omega's hand still holding his hair in a grounding grip.

Soap hummed, smile turning soft as he stroked the sweaty strands away from Ghost's forehead, leaning down and running his nose from cheek to neck and back, scent marking him greedily.

"Theres a good boy under all that growlin aye?" He teased softly before leaning back to gently tuck him back into his pants, shushing his overstimulated growls.

Ghost just watched with lidded eyes as Soap grabbed his hand and licked his glove clean of the cum. Ghost was sure if he didn't just have his soul drained out of him, he'd cum again from the sight.

"Shite I think love you I love you I-" Ghosts brain chanted like a broken record as he watched Soap's soft lips suck over his thumb, the leather shiny with spit now.

"Up ye get Ghost, we're gonna get clean 'n talk" Soap said after a moment of them basking in the silence and the scent of their combined desire. He pat Ghost's thigh expectantly.

Ghost quickly took his silent declaration of love back and narrowed his eyes up at the omega with a grumble, refusing to move and espically refusing to talk.

"No" he grunted simply sitting and admiring the sight of his cum staining Soap's own pants, the man would smell like him for a while now.

Soap let out a huff, hand tangling roughly in the back of his hair and forcing his gaze up at him.

"Yes or yer not cummin for a week" he retorted sternly with a raised eyebrow and well-

Ghost immediately stood up on shaky legs and followed.

Taglist <3 : @toons-boop-boop

[jymwahuwu]

I see your and blbrrymilk's Dr.Ratio with bimbo reader and I give you: Dr.Ratio with a Reader who thinks he hates them.

He just never seems to have a single kind word to say to them. They're made to feel that they're horrible and stupid no matter how hard they try. They do their best to improve and he still deems it not good enough. So they just start doing their damn best to avoid him, and it turns out they're really good at that.

It's only when someone over hears him ranting about never being able to get a hold of them anymore and that they're in the process of setting things up to leave the planet, and that person says "Shouldn't you be celebrating? It's not exactly a secret that you despise them" does it click.

Now this emotionally stunted man has three options: 1. Letting them go because he fucked up that's not happening, 2. Corner them and somehow make their feeble mind understand that no he doesn't think they're the scum on the bottom of his shoe, or 3. Kidnap them.

We all know he's most likely going option 3.

This is so relatable. If I met Dr.Ratio in real life, I would actually want to avoid him because my heart is very fragile and I cannot accept being scolded by the professor🙈

I guess both options 2 and 3 will happen.

After you realized that maybe you could never live up to the standards Dr. Ratio set for you, you kept avoiding him. You know he is completely disappointed in you. The best you can do is avoid him and not be around him. You even bought a spaceship ticket so you could leave this planet!

But the moment before the spaceship sets sail, you are taken away. You were frozen in panic, completely unable to say no to him.

"Why do you want to leave?"

"I-I thought you didn't want to see me again…"

"You're more stupid than I thought. Now bend down. I'll teach you a lesson now."

Eventually you'll realize through your swollen butt that you can never leave him. And he doesn’t hate you <3

[fairytsuk1]

looking glass | (s)

apart of the meet cute: gone wrong series, click here for more!

pairing: shoto todoroki x reader

words: 5.7k

prompt: "moving into a new apartment and realizing they can see directly into their neighbor’s window"

warnings: strangers to lovers, masturbation, mild pervert!todoroki, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, kitchen sex, unprotected sex, alcohol

Shoto had decided to move. He had to get away from it all, and his only option post-college was to find an apartment where he could heal from all his trauma in peace. The moving-in process had been grand, Midoriya had come by, and he was always such a great friend. Even some ex-classmates had come by, with welcoming gifts or a helping hand. Even Bakugou had paid a visit with Kirishima, and the distance was starting to seem not so bad now that he was settled into his one-bedroom apartment.

Things were looking up! Job security, a new place, and lots of people to meet. It even felt a bit exciting. A new chapter.

“So you’re single?”

The apartment complex had its pitfalls, namely the single women that had spotted an attractive bachelor on their radar and were quick to bomb-rush him with questions. Was he single? Was he set to be married? Married in the past? Looking for that special someone?

An older woman, Miyako, had come with onigiri and many questions. Some bordered on creepy, but Todoroki had difficult time saying “go away” to people who didn’t deserve it. He’d come a long way from his teenage years; he had to be better now.

“I’m just going about life right now, er; I’ll let you know?”

Miyako looked thrilled to have caught Shoto’s attention, but it was beginning to feel embarrassing when he only wanted to take out the trash.

“Oh, that’s great! Believe me, my husband is always gone, so if I never need… help, I know how to find you!”

It seemed a bit distasteful that she’d tried lowering her eyes and rubbing her lips together as if he’d get with a married woman. Gosh, imagine the drama. Todoroki took a look around, and most people were leaving for work. He probably shouldn’t be seen with this lady like this.

“Yeah, I’m not exactly handy, though. Uhm, I hope it all works out,” and Todoroki's taking the tray from her hands, “and thank you for the onigiri.”

She follows his steps as he moves backward, “Oh, but are you sure you don’t need anything else?”

An angelic voice floats out from behind him. It’s the smoothest voice he’s ever heard.

“I’m sure he’s fine, Miyako!”

He was thankful someone had come to put this cougar to rest, but as he turned towards the sound of the voice… he thought he could hear bells in the distance. Have you always been living here? Are you a guardian angel striking a pose on Earth? Why hadn’t he gotten to see you earlier?

“Oh, I’m just checking up on him!” 

She dares to pinch his cheek, and he can feel it grow warm under her manicured nails, “isn’t he so cute?”

“Soooo cute,” and you offer a small wave, “Hi there.”

He doesn’t take your lack of a compliment to heart, waving back and noting your name. It was pretty, and it fits you perfectly. So did the suit you were wearing, the blazer buttoned to accentuate curves, and you still managed to adorn yourself with gold jewelry without losing your air of professionalism.

“Well, I have to go,” Miyako rests a hand on his, whispering, “Enjoy the onigiri.”

“Thanks.”

She gives a pleasant goodbye to you, and you’re approaching closer as she walks away.

“Got caught by Miyako, huh?”

“Well, I guess. I was taking out my trash, and then she asked all these questions with the tray of onigiri; I couldn’t tell her to go away.”

“You should! She goes after nearly every bachelor that moves here but don’t try it. I’ve seen too many guys get beaten to a pulp by her husband; it’s a dangerous game.”

“Oh, oh no. I wasn’t going to–”

“I didn’t think you would,” and you have the confidence to give him a wink, “you just moved here a couple weeks ago, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m apartment 438. Where are you?”

“Oh, just across from the other side, but there’s never any parking over there! I really am only over here for work,” you gesture to yourself with a small shrug, “law firm.”

Ah, so that’s the reason for the briefcase. He gives a small smile in return. Has he been nervous this entire time?

“Well, government job. So, we’re in the same boat.”

“Hah! I guess so. If you’re ever in trouble, then call me! Unless it’s something pretty bad, I just do real estate stuff.”

“Real estate?”

“You don’t have to pretend to be interested in it! But it’s not bad, not like you think.”

“No, I wasn’t lying. I could never go through law school; that’s very admirable.”

He’s pleased that your cheeks lift unconsciously, murmuring a “thank you.”

The two of you linger in the presence of each other for a minute or two longer, but it feels like ages as the breeze brushes past the two of you under the sun's warmth. You’re the first to break, sighing and offering your hand, “I’ve gotta go, but it was so nice to meet you!”

Your hand is soft, not scarred like his that came from years of working out and being rougher in his younger years. Electricity raves through his veins when you give him a firm shake.

“Yes, you too. Have a good day at work,” he feels his cheeks burn unconsciously at the statement, fingers curling around the onigiri like a lifeline.

“I’ll need it!”

He tries not to watch you get into your gray Toyota, so he busies himself with inspecting the gift he was given till he hears your engine rev. The last look he gives you wasn’t meant to feel like he was yearning to talk to you more, but he’s afraid it does when he catches your eye, and you only smile.

The apartment is cozy, but as he eats his onigiri, he wonders if you’d want to share some with him sometime.

“I’m getting too wrapped up in this,” he mumbles at the small island in his kitchen, “I’ve got to get to work.”

It’s a slow work day.

-

“A lady? Who’d you meet? That’s great, Todoroki!”

Midoriya blabbers eagerly to him over the phone, having to catch up on each other’s lives, “Yeah, she saved me from some old lady. She was hitting on me.”

“An old woman!? Wow, was she the one who gave you onigiri?”

“Yup.”

“Wow! Gosh, I can’t believe it! I mean, didn’t you say she was married?! That’s just crazy, Todoroki. I don’t know what I’d do!”

“She was not going to leave me alone,” he stirs a pot of marinara sauce lazily, “but everyone here is very nice.”

He doesn’t say your name, but he means you.

“Mhm, that’s good. Uraraka and I have been good. We’re looking at buying a house!”

“Right, how’s that going?”

He’s able to lose himself in the conversation and dinner-making. It’s peaceful; it feels like home. His lights are low, which adds to the lighting, and he can’t help but feel lonely. Usually, at home, he’d smell the soft perfume of his mother or the sizzle of food from Fuyumi. 

Todoroki tried to put the lost memories out of his mind. Midoriya was here, and he supposed that was never a sad thing.

“Sounds like you guys have a plan,” the sauce is nearly done, and he finally takes a second to rest against the counter, “I think it’s going to go great. I can always help you with moving when the time comes.”

“Thank you so much! I think we’re pretty steady on what we wanna do….”

It only takes a flickering gaze around the room to cause Todoroki to be shaken to his core. He ended up with a nice balcony in his apartment and opted for curtains during move-in. 

This time though, this evening, he’d left them wide open. Wide open and exposed directly to your apartment. You were not only inside but walking around half-naked.

“Todoroki?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh! I was just saying would you prefer gray walls or white ones? We still can’t decide.”

Picking up your living room is a menial task to you, but not to the man drooling over how you bend over and how your panties outline the plush fat of your ass. White panties with lace.

“...White is good, maybe a bit off-white.”

“That’s what I was thinking!”

The sauce starts to boil over, “shit!”

“Is everything okay?”

He’s got his phone trapped between his shoulder and ear, rushing to turn down the heat and making quick glances at the sliding doors, “Yeah! Yeah, everything’s fine. My dinner’s ready; I have to go.”

“Okay! Hope it’s super good; talk to you later! Bye.”

“Yup, thanks. Bye.”

The phone is slid away on the counter, the sauce is lowered to a medium-low, and his eyes are finally free to enjoy the show that’s been stirring guilt and arousal in his gut. You look good. More than good, so good that he can’t be bothered to turn away in shame. He’s locked in, and you have no idea what you’re doing as your prance around your living room. 

You’re just cleaning up. No big deal, but it feels like something is watching your every movement. It only clicks once you reach the sliding glass door to see Todoroki’s “empty” apartment gazing back at you. It makes sense now; you must’ve been putting on a grand show for him while doing your chores.

Something in your brain whispers an idea to you. One that makes you want to go “Eureka!”

It’s a bad idea, an awful idea, to not shut the curtains. However… How often do you get to tease an attractive man? How often do you get to enthrall someone in your figure, your body? It’s an awful idea to turn around and take a nice long stretch down to your toes, but you don’t care.

Maybe he’s imagining filling you up or getting off to the fact that you think he’s not watching. The thought strangely excites you. Sure, it’s immoral, but the fact that eyes are tracking your every curve and committing them to memory is so alluring. You’re definitely going to use your vibrator later. 

Todoroki’s hard in his sweatpants; the indentation is practically obscene. A flush spreads through his body, making him unbearably hot. There’s a weird other being inside him that wants to march over to your door and fuck you till you love him. But… he’s being a creep. You’d be scared, uncomfortable! He would never in a million years try to do something to you, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t drink in a long look at your plump ass practically in his face. 

But then you do something unexpected; you turn around. Todoroki's reflexes are fast, and the minute your leg bends, he’s acutely aware that if he doesn’t move, he’s going to get caught! Two-toned hair dives towards the floor, the thump definitely irritating his downstairs neighbors as he crawls till he’s behind his sofa and safely able to peer his eyes around the arm.

You look askance like you’re waiting to see something. Todoroki watches you wait a minute more before stepping forward and swiftly tugging the curtains shut. The show’s over, but his cock is still hard in his boxers, and Todoroki thinks it might be time for a shower. 

He fists his cock needily under the warm water, breathing your name in soft exhales as he works himself to the end. The cum splatters lewdly against the tiles, and he’s shocked to find his knees weak. What were you doing to him?

Neither of you sees each other again for a while. Your work takes up so much of your time, and your heart withers watching the daylight pass by in your office. Todoroki has been busy, too, he’s closer to the heart of the city, and the daily commute has worn him thin. It’s exhausting, and the two of you are not even the slightest bit excited to read the flier posted up on your doors.

[SHIKETSU COMPLEX MONTHLY BARBECUE AND PICNIC!]

Todoroki’s eyes are assaulted by the bright colors that jump out at him. There are many reasons not to go. He is so tired, Miyako might be there, he doesn’t know anyone like that, he has no kids, he doesn’t know how to barbecue…

His mind keeps circling back to you like a train stuck in a loop on the track. It’s unbelievable that he’s rationalizing attending this event just because he thinks you might be there. You probably won’t go; why would you? You’re way too busy. He tries to convince himself to walk back to the apartment as he makes his way to the barbecue. You won’t be there; he’s an idiot.

Yet there you are, under the hot sun shining in a warm yellow sundress that contrasts your brown skin beautifully. You’ve adorned yourself with gold jewelry again. His heart flutters in his chest. Todoroki can’t believe he’s there and that you were there too.

“Hello, handsome,” you smile warmly as he approaches a picnic table with pre-made potato salad, “did you make this?”

“Huh? Hello, and I-uh, well,” he’s unsure whether to lie or tell the truth, “I don’t know!”

He’s lucky he’s handsome because you laugh lightly and point to the artichoke dip, “Honestly, I don’t know if I made that either,” and then you’re humming with a warm hand on his shoulder, “unless you’re a secret housewife, no one cares that the bachelor doesn’t know how to cook.”

“Is that really my nickname?”

“To some, yeah. Especially Miyako; I swear she’s been trying to scout you out from when you arrived. She’s here with her husband and kids too! She has no shame.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty weird. How have you been, by the way?”

There’s a clear elephant in the room to him; he can’t get your body out of his head. His senses go haywire every time you move, flashing a show of skin. Hopefully, you have no idea.

“Oh, good! Good, just working. I haven’t seen you around often these days; early commute?”

“Mhm, it takes up a lot of time. I don’t mind being in the city, but it’s hard to come back home and do it all over again,” he smiles warmly, “I feel jealous of you.”

“Oh, trust me, once you’re spending long hours in an office and leaving when the sun’s down, you won’t be saying that anymore!”

It’s just a friendly neighbor chat, but it comes so easily for the two of you. It’s not like you guys are chatting for the second time ever, but as if you’ve been friends for years, getting caught up in reminiscing. You launch the dice, scoring snake eyes.

“Hey, I know you mentioned you weren’t too handy the last time we talked, but how are you with electronics? Televisions?”

“I-I used to live in a dorm, so I know a little. Is something wrong?”

“My tv has been having connective issues! I don’t know what the problem is, but I was hoping you might be able to come and look at it whenever you’re free.”

He’s being baited like a shark; he knows this too well. It’s an extremely attractive olive branch. At this point, it’s not even a branch but a whole Garden of Eden planted by you for him. He can’t wait to bite the apple.

Todoroki nods genially, “Of course, I can take a quick look at it. No promises if I don’t know what to do; I’m not an expert.”

You’re sipping your cocktail with a coy look, “I’m sure you’re an expert in other things. If you watch something enough, you’ll eventually pick it up.”

The comment makes Todoroki go stock still, eyes blown out and face deadly pale as you shrug up at him. He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but you’re waltzing away to engage with some of the mothers. That had to be a dig; you had to know what he did that evening. Maybe inviting him over was a plot to kill him for being a spying creep. 

Then there’s the chance that you… liked it. It feels impossible to even consider that option, but it was clear that you weren’t exactly mad. You would’ve confronted him straight away; he’s sure of that. So, what was he to do? Pretend to be innocent? Tell you that he thought you were extremely beautiful and sexy, so much so that he watched you through your window while you weren’t wearing clothes?

A man offers him a beer; Togami, he says. Todoroki is left to sip the acrid drink and ponder whether he should skip town. 

You keep looking at him, and you know the other moms are starting to notice your wandering eye fixated on the lone wolf. Aka, a mother of two, grins eagerly, “See something you like? Ah, young love!”

“It’s not young love. We’ve barely talked, Aka.”

Mayumi chimes in, “Really? It looks like he wants to talk to you; every time you look away, he looks back at you!”

“Are you being serious? You guys are crazy; nothing is going on!”

They’re swirling around you like viper snakes. Their lives are so consumed by their children that they see themselves in you, and they’re poking and prodding like you’re their next do-over, “Why don’t you talk to him?”

“I actually did, Mayumi,” you shrug, “it was good! Nothing crazy, not like how I know you guys are thinking. What dirty minds!”

Obviously, the mothers were gossipy, but you wonder if maybe he needed an extra push. Due to your line of work, you were familiar with pushing someone right till they crack like an egg. You’d left him looking like a sorrowful puppy, and the alcoholic drinks were brewing fiercely in your tummy. Liquid courage runs through you, and you set your margarita down to smooth out your dress.

Maybe they were right; maybe you should do something. Prod him a bit.

“I’m going to be right back,” you mumble to the gaggle of women that debate the current happenings of Ema, a new mom that entered the block and seemed desperate to wreak havoc. You’d met her, and she was actually quite nice. 

But that’s not the point. No, you’re straightening your posture and sauntering over with a sway of your hips. You were going to do this.

Your eyes are locked onto Todoroki’s figure as you confidently walk towards him, “Todoroki! Are you getting ready to head out?”

He gives you a small nod, looking around before nudging you, “It looks about time. Are you?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I am. I’m looking forward to just straight-up relaxing.”

“Right,” and he seems to be brimming with liquid confidence as well because he offers, “Do you want me to walk you back?”

It feels weird to be asked that; it’s not a direct question but an offering. Despite that, though, there’s a feeling bubbling underneath the surface. Both of you know that you could give in right here and now, forgo the traditional courting and go straight to fucking like wild animals. 

“Gladly, thank you,” he follows with you leading the way, “I think you fit in well.”

“Huh?”

“I said, I think you fit in well. In the neighborhood, you really round it all out. Plus, everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone,” his face tinges pink, so cute.

“Yeah, yeah,” stopping at the steps to my door, you shrug at him, “Do you want to come inside for a second?”

It’s another checkpoint. Another moment that makes one pause and think, “Is this it?” Another moment Todoroki barrels through, eagerly accepting the invitation and kicking his shoes off at the front of your home.

He seems to really take in your apartment as you scurry to make a polite pot of tea. Heterochromatic eyes sweep over the large glass doors; he doesn’t hide his open gawking. You tug your bottom lip between your teeth while pouring boiling water over tea leaves, “I take it to mean you like my apartment?”

“Like? I-I mean, it’s….”

Todoroki trails off, honing in on the pictures on the mantle.

“It’s very homely,” he turns back to look at you, smiling softly, “It looks great.”

“Ah, thank you. Tea?”

The man gladly takes it, and you can feel the lingering warmth of his comments as you chit-chat. You wonder what he’s thinking; his curiosity is on full display. You could come up with a few ideas. Before you know it, Todoroki is checking his watch and giving you a straight face.

“It’s getting late,” his cheeks twitch to a frown before remaining neutral, “but it was really nice to spend time together.”

Does everything he says have romantic undertones? You nod, covering your flushing cheeks with a hand before an idea strikes you. It slips out on accident; you didn’t mean for it to come out, really!

“I agree,” and the bomb drops, “I’d expect a great view from your window tonight.”

Your eyes flicker to his darkly. He’s swallowing, staring at you like a piece of meat as you lay the trap out for him. Neither of you says anything; what should you say? One of you could be bold, could prompt a kiss or more, but you don’t. Todoroki gives a light laugh, gathering his things with a lingering hand ghosting the small of your back as you escort him out.

“Goodnight,” he murmurs lowly, and you think you could kiss him.

“Goodnight!” the door locks with a click.

Todoroki sits patiently like it's a movie theater where he's waiting for his favorite film. It’s dazzling how the curtains peel back to show your partially clothed body facing away from the glass. You only have the kitchen light on, illuminating your soft curves and tan skin better than any ring light could. Todoroki sits in the darkness, not wanting to be seen but to watch. To be an active audience member as his hand trails down to grip and stroke his cock.

Swaying your hips, Todoroki finally gets a glimpse of your sweet face. It’s different from earlier. It was much more innocent before, truly the girl next door type. But this, this? You were something absolutely out of this world; he noted it in the way your eyelids lowered as you salaciously gripped your vibrator or even the way your lingerie left nothing to the imagination.

“Fuck…” he spoke to the quiet air.

He couldn’t hear you, but it was enough to see you. Starting slowly by groping your chest, nipples peeking through the lace of your bra as his eyes continuously dip down to your pussy. Covered, but if he squinted, Todoroki thought he could see your wetness starting to soak through.

You moan, hips twitching as you tug your nipple a bit harsher than the last time. Soft lips part to breathe as a hand snakes down the valley between your breasts and down the slope of your stomach. Manicured nails stop at the waistband of your panties; your eyes seem to search across the darkness for the sight of your lover boy. For a second, you think you see a turquoise eye in the darkness as your fingers make quick work on your clit.

You both know you’re staring right at each other, and neither can look away as your hands cover themselves in slickness and arousal. It’s heady and so risky with such open windows, and yet your orgasms are driving you toward the edge faster than you’ve ever felt before.

“God, I wish I could feel you,” Todoroki groans, thumb rubbing the slit and feeling his abs tighten, “I need you.”

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum Todoroki,” you pant into the open air, squirming and fucking yourself on your fingers and toy.

It comes all at once, spurting onto the web of his thumb and fingers as Todoroki cums to your wriggling form. It overwhelms you, too, body arching and seemingly bursting with pleasure when you reach your peak. You both came quicker than expected, your legs falling closed as you steadied your breathing. Even under the low light, the clear droplets of your arousal staining the carpet makes Todoroki’s balls ache.

You’ve won again. You’ve once again captured the heart and dick of Shoto Todoroki, and he can feel the feelings ruminating inside him as you playfully clean up your living room. His eyes track your figure like he’ll forget you the minute he blinks. This can’t go on any longer; both of you know this. But then you’re drawing the curtains, and the show ends.

By the evening, Todoroki sets a plan to get exactly what he wants. And you’re none the wiser.

It’s been a while since the two of you had crossed paths. Your work has stolen your energy, leaving you to come home exhausted and weary every day. Normally you’d perk up at seeing the boy you’d come to feel warmth for if you even caught him, but his life seemed to be getting in the way. He always kept his curtains closed these days.

Then, you notice it on your day off, cozy in a sweatsuit with a mug of steaming coffee. The curtains are open, which leaves his apartment looking like a ghost town. It’s been a moment since you’ve seen the light filter in like that since you’ve felt that familiar feeling brewing at the bottom of your stomach.

Your body sits on the plush couch, sipping your drink and waiting patiently. You’re giddy as Todoroki walks into view. The show is about to start, and unlike you, he’s making sure to give an eyeful. He’s never looked more confident; in fact, he’s never put himself on display like this.

Was he really doing this all for you?

The thought is forgotten as a black t-shirt is peeled off to show rippling muscles and brown nipples that pebbled as he rubbed over his chest. He was carved to perfection, maybe by God himself. Todoroki starts slow, blunt nails scratching lightly over his pecs, down his abs, and stopping at the band of his sweatpants.

He looks up at you through his bangs and your pussy throbs. The man flicks his hair back, hand gliding and palming his cock over the thick fabric. Todoroki must’ve already worked himself up, you note as you watch his half-hard cock create a sizable imprint in his sweats.

You’re biting your lip, trying not to reach down and touch yourself. He looks so enticing. Part of you wants to jump up and break down his door, pulling him into a sharp kiss as he…

Todoroki moans behind the glass, head tilting back as his Adam’s apple bobs. You can’t see exactly what he’s doing, but it’s enough to make you feel… hot. Almost angry, he had the nerve to touch himself in front of you yet play shy when you were face to face. If he was going to be so bold as to unashamedly stroke himself, you’d be even bolder by darting up out of your seat and running out the front door.

You miss his smirk as he pulls on his shirt and waits for the piercing sound of your knuckles rapping against the door. After a moment, he hears it and steadily opens it with a teasing smile.

“Hello,” he greets casually, despite the erection straining the front of his pants.

Neither of you can wait anymore as you nearly tackle him with a kiss. He easily holds you, big hands cupping your waist and pawing at your ass. It’s desperate; it’s passionate. Todoroki grunts as his back hits his kitchen island, “do you wanna do this right now?”

“I don’t think I can wait,” your lips graze over him, “I know you need me.”

Todoroki pulls you closer till his leg slides between yours. The small motion makes you lose focus at the delicious pressure against your clit; your arms delicately wind around his broad shoulders as he bruises your lips with another kiss.

“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he murmurs, spit slicking his lips.

  His tongue, pink and sweet, glides over yours like butter. The two of you fight to win, each trying to usurp the power of the other and take control. You scratch against his back, Todoroki presses his leg against your soaked pussy, and your hand sneaks down to squeeze his cock that soaks pre-cum into his boxers. 

At some point, it goes from a battle to simply indulging in the good feelings. Saliva pools in your mouth as you dry-hump each other like animals. Whimpers echo in the air, but he caves first.

“Wait,” he pauses, chest heaving and lips glossy, “let me…”

The small of your back meets the counter before Todoroki captures your lips in another kiss. He’s grown confident, fingers cradling your wrist and hands fondling your tits.

“Ah! Todoroki,” your body melts easily into his palm, “take me, god. I’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Have you? I think I’ve waited for longer,” his teeth graze over the curve of your neck, “you started it.”

His hands expertly sneak up your shirt within minutes; it makes you wonder what else he’s hiding from you. Your fingers curl into his hair easily. Tugging lightly, the pleasure and blushed face of the man before you made your core throb.

“Then let me finish it,” you murmur softly, hand sliding down to his sweatpants.

“Mhm,” the two of you stare at each other as your hand slides past the cotton barriers to touch smooth, hot skin.

Then, his eyes look blown out, and his hands are spinning you around so fast you nearly get whiplash. Excitement shakes through your body like bursting fireworks as you help tug down your bottoms. 

Large hands eagerly spread your ass, Todoroki watching your hole clench and drip arousal down your thigh. His mouth instinctually waters, and his knees want to give in. You would taste so sweet. Todoroki can’t keep his eyes off your drooling pussy. You’re mewling, though, impatient as a thumb runs over your slit before rubbing tight circles against your clit, “You’re so beautiful.”

He slips a finger in, leaving your words choked and broken, “T-thank you.”

“Of course, baby,” he hopes the nickname lands, “oh, you liked that.”

It’s embarrassing to hear the squelch of his fingers inside you. You clench easily at his motions when he flicks his fingers up harshly or calls you such sweet names. Even he chuckles at your obvious arousal.

“Shut the hell up…!

You still squeak as he fingers your cunt. His fingers are reaching spots that even yours couldn’t; it feels so good. One hand of his keeps you pinned by the small of your back while the other eagerly reveals the wet and clicking sounds of your pussy.

“I wouldn’t be so rude.”

The smack against your ass makes stars burst behind your eyes. You could cum like this in minutes.

“Please, Todoroki,” you weakly beg for mercy, needing nothing more than to feel the primal thrusts of him fucking his cum into you.

“Fuck,” he breathes into your neck, “I need to fuck you.”

“Yeah, yeah, you do,” breathless, you go up on your tiptoes, “Please fuck me, Todoroki.”

He hadn’t even prompted you to beg, yet you acted perfectly like his own awaiting toy. Todoroki can’t line himself up against you fast enough, blunt head pressing against your needy hole while you try to breathe through the inevitable stretch.

You were prepared well. The stretch of his cock as he slowly slides into you feels like magic, and you’re keening like you’re in heat. It’s hot, overwhelming, it smells like his apartment, and he was balls deep inside of you.

“Aah, fuck,” his voice warbles, fingers leaving clear prints on your rounded hips.

“So good, god, so good!”

There’s a soft “pap” when his hips meet yours, but then he’s immediately diving into both of your pleasures. He dials in with thrusts, shaking you and churning your insides while you can only grab for purchase against the counter.

It leaves you breathless, and you’re squeezing like a vice around him as he pumps in and out of you. It’s a delicious rhythm; the push and pull are so terribly addicting that you can feel the swirl of your orgasm at the pit of your stomach.

“You’re squeezing me so tight; gonna cum? Gonna cum all over my cock?”

You babble nonsensically as he reaches around to rub your clit. His hands slip over your clit, but he can see your manicured toes curling as he makes you succumb to him.

“Todoroki, Todoroki! I’m cumming–oh god, I-I’m cumming!”

For a minute, everything goes blank. As if you’ve been flashbang.

“Good girl,” Todoroki whispers in the shell of his ear as he chases his own pleasure, “You’re so good for me.”

It crashes down onto you hard. Your entire body trembles, muscles locking up as you cum hard, creaming on him as he watches in awe. Todoroki releases a heavy groan as he finally fills you. It’s white-hot, and he heaves over you. His heavy body completely smothers you in a way that feels reassuring. In a way that feels loving.

The two of you lay still in the post-coital glow, catching your breaths and murmuring soft words. “Let me get you a tissue,” he says as he kisses your shoulder.

You’re unsure why your heart aches as he cleans up your tender pussy and picks up your bottoms.

“Hey, you know I….”

Todoroki raises an eyebrow as you trail off.

“I’m not that kind of woman,” you say with an air of finality, “just so you know.”

The man before you blinks before giving you a genuine smile.

“I never thought you were.”

You leave soon after, giving him a sweet kiss and quickly bounding to your apartment. In the evening, Todoroki catches you crossing your living room. You pause, smiling, before blowing a kiss and shutting the blinds.

[slyfpy-head]

Lachesis

part 2 - part 3

Chishiya × f!reader

Lachesis (n.) the inescapable tether of fate that weaves lives together through threads of choices both made and endured.

This was not in his plan. He thought he would just go looting, who would have thought he would meet her again? Although he had thought about the reunion, it was not in this place, this fucked up place.

a/n: updates will definitely be delayed, I only write when I'm in the mood, so it will take me a while to update each chapter. English is NOT my first language!

"This hardly qualifies as robbery." 

The houses around here are already deserted, and there are no more laws in this place. What he needs most right now is something functional to create his weapons.

Chishiya crouched down, one knee pressing against the cold floor, his fingers rifling through the scattered contents of the repair kit. The objects clattered softly under his touch—wires, screws, drills, hammer, ratchet, and—

click

—that sound.

Right, he forgot to be aware of his surroundings...

Before he could react, a voice sliced through the stillness behind him. Sounded steady, no sign of panicking, but a trace of nerves seeped through.

Keeping it together, perhaps. Just barely. 

"Cleaning up a corpse right in my house wasn’t on my to-do list today. Hands where I can see ‘em."

A woman.

No—worse than any woman.

... At least she's giving him a chance to back away. Not a total maniac.

Running wasn’t his first option. Gradually, he lifted his hands and straightened up. He could sense the gun pointing at his back, even though she wasn't pressing it against him.

He remained calm, speaking in a manner that matched her level of composure, but he was genuinely calm, and she? Even if her tone didn’t betray any fear, there was still a trace of unease.

"Didn’t think anyone would stick around their home in a hellhole like this. Guess I was wrong?"

Silence.

He smirked. Exactly as he’d expected—the hitch in her breath when recognition struck.

"What’s wrong?" he teased, tone dripping with smug amusement. "No warm welcome for an old friend? Not even a hello?" 

He lowered his hands, turning just enough to glance over his shoulder. "A little rude, don’t you think?"

Then he faced her fully, a composed look on his face.

“Y/N.”

And then, there was you.

Of course, it's you.

Fuck, it's truly you.

Why here? Why now?

In this shattered, forsaken place, of all places.

You, an old friend—no—his first love.

The girl he'd once called his own—his childhood sweetheart. The one whose smiles he’d cherished, whose challenges he’d helped her overcome, whose innocence he’d vowed to protect.

And yet, he was the one who had betrayed you, turning your life upside down, and leaving you in a standstill.

Your voice cracked—softer now, stripped of its earlier edge.

“Shuntaro…?" 

His chest tightened.

You were taken aback by the sight of the man standing before you, confused, angry with a tangled mess of emotions.

Why was he here?

Why now, after all this time?

...

Why did the universe keep throwing you back together when all you wanted was to forget?

Your eyes traced the changes in him: the sharper angles of his face, the leaner frame, the way time had hardened him. But some things never changed: those eyes, that smirk, the way he looked at you like he already knew every thought in your head.

Everything feels like a dream.

Or a nightmare.

"Have you forgotten what I look like," he mused, his tone light yet probing, "or are you just staring?"

The question hung in the air, a challenge, a tease, a fragile bridge spanning the chasm between you.

An unseen force seemed to draw Chishiya nearer to you, compelling him to reach out, to seek your presence, to feel your warmth, to reassure himself that you were truly standing in front of him. Yet, he refrained from doing so, at least for the moment.

He took a step, then another, each movement deliberate, measured, diminishing the space between you, slowly rekindling the connection that had somewhat faded.

The gun gradually lowered in your grasp, watching as he drew nearer.

Your thoughts, sharp with hostility just moments before, now wavered, clouded by the realization that the intruder in your home was not any stranger. The hood of the white jacket that covered his hair had hidden his identity, but the voice—that voice—had given him away.

"I... no..." you murmured, the words trailing into silence.

Your gaze held a mixture of shock and guarded wariness, but you didn't step back, your body relaxing ever so slightly as the tension shifted. There was something in his voice, something familiar, that tugged at you, drawing you back to a time when the world had been simpler, and the love had been pure.

But that was before everything fell apart.

Before he turned you down.

Before he left.

Now, here you were, standing in the ruins of a world that had moved on without the two of you.

And yet, the connection between you two remained, a thread frayed but unbroken.

The silence between you felt heavy, like a physical weight pressing against your chest. Chishiya’s eyes locked onto yours, a mix of defiance and vulnerability swirling in their depths. The air seemed to thicken with unspoken words, the past and present colliding in a way that left you breathless.

He shifted his focus from you, scanning the house that you claimed as yours.

"So... your home, you said?"

“You were literally about to swipe something two seconds ago,” you snapped, a bit sharper than you meant to, brushing off his question. “Spill it.”

“Technically, yes, but I doubt anyone would stay here..." he conceded with a shrug, all mock innocence. "My apologies...?"

"If you hadn't spoken up, I might have pulled the trigger."

"But you didn't, correct? Should I consider myself lucky?"

He tilted his head, watching you.

"Or is it because you recognized my voice?" A pause, deliberate. "You still remember it, don’t you?"

Your jaw clenched.

God, you wanted to punch him.

That smug, nothing-touches-me look—like the past between you was nothing, like he hadn’t shattered you.

The bastard.

The one you swore you’d never forgive.

...And the one you still, stupidly, couldn’t stop thinking about.

Fuck this.

Fuck him.

Silence stretched between you, thick with memories.

You remembered the last time you'd seen him. The way he'd looked at you then—not with regret, but with that same damn calm acceptance like your pain was just another variable in whatever equation he was solving in that brilliant, twisted mind of his.

"You came back to this city without telling me? That's a bit sad.”

"I don't need to inform you about anything."

Chishiya tilted his head, considering you with that same old, familiar scrutiny. "Do you own this house here, or were you just claiming a whole house as if it were your own?"

"It's mine."

"Is it?" Another step forward. Your pulse jumped. "Funny. Last I checked, you hated being alone."

A low blow.

Your fingers tightened around the gun. "People change."

"Do they?" His eyes flickered over you.

Enough for small talk.

"You look good," he said suddenly, his voice softer now.

The words hit you like a physical blow.

"Don't," you warned.

"Don't what?"

"Don't pretend you care."

Something flickered in his eyes—too fast to name—before his mask slid back into place. "Who says I'm pretending?"

You barked out a laugh. "You left us on our own, Chishiya. You made your choice."

His last name.

You changed the way you address him.

"And you're still angry about it."

"I'm not—" You cut yourself off, teeth gritted. He was doing it again. Distracting you. Playing you. Getting under your skin like no one else ever could.

The gun in your hand felt suddenly heavy. You should have shot him. Should have put a bullet between those mocking eyes the second you recognized him. But your finger hadn't moved.

Pathetic.

And god, those eyes were the same.

Dark, calculating, with that infuriating glint of amusement that always made you want to slap him or kiss him, depending on the day.

Right now, you were leaning toward the former.

Right now, he’s too close to you, close enough that if you reached out, you could—

No.

You stepped back, putting space between you. "Get out, or I'll-"

He didn't move. "Or what? You'll shoot me?" A challenge.

You raised the gun. "Try me."

He stepped closer. "You won't."

"You don't know that."

"I do." with another step, the barrel pressed against his sternum. Your breath hitched. "Because if you were going to shoot me, you'd have done it the moment I turned around."

You swallowed hard. The moment hung suspended, fragile as a spiderweb.

Then you lowered the gun.

"Take what you need and go," you said, turning away before he could see the crack in your armor.

Chishiya watched you as you backed away from him. The space between the two of you yawned suddenly, vast and uncrossable.

Silence settled like ash.

Chishiya watched you for a long moment before crouching again, retrieving the few items he’d come for, shoving it into his jacket.

At the doorway, he paused.

"Be seeing you."

"Don't count on it."

A smirk. A shrug. Then he was gone.

The door clicks shut behind him, and the silence that follows is deafening.

You exhale sharply, fingers tightening around the gun before you finally let it drop to your side. Your pulse thrums in your throat, a relentless drumbeat of frustration and something else—something you refuse to name.

Alone again, you ran your trembling hand over your hair.

Chishiya Shuntaro.

Even now, just the thought of his name sends a jolt through you.

You didn't watch him leave.

Didn't need to.

You'd always been able to feel his absence like a phantom limb.

And the worst part?

1. Some part of you was already counting the minutes until he'd find his way back, letting fate bring you both back together again.

2. You hoped he’d stay.

＿＿＿

© 27/03/2025 [ @slyfpy-head ]

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze. 

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

[unforth]

Alright not to like liveblog my breakdown on main but yesterday was a really bad day after a really bad, like, 4 months, and I've hit a bit of a breaking point and one of the only things in my life that can give is running @mdzsartreblogs , @tgcfartreblogs , @svsssartreblogs , @erhaartreblogs , @tykartreblogs , and @cnovelartreblogs , so that is what has to give. It's been a 99-out-of-100 days thankless job. A small number of people do say thank you and yall I appreciate you so much (HUGE shout-out to the artist I met at Flamecon who gifted me a zine when I said I ran these blogs, @bonesblubs you rock) but I have never done an act of fandom labor simultaneously this labor intensive yet this invisible before and, uh. It sucks. I spend an hour or more a day on this every day, if it's under 2k hours since I started the first of these in September 2020 I'd be shocked. And I do it because I love it but doing it means I don't have time or energy to do other things I love. And I really don't want to just quit, but I can't keep this up.

In a last-ditch effort to try not to just give up, I'm making the following changes:

1. Only watching one tag per fandom for the MXTX fandoms. I am going to check *only* #tgcf, #svsss, and #mdzs. Artwork posted to any other tag, I will not see unless a mutual reblogs it.

2. Reduced tagging (even more). I'm only going to tag characters and maybe overarching au type (eg, "modern au," "fantasy au"). I'll no longer tag creatures. I will continue to tag the same common trigger warnings I already tag.

3. If a work's appearance doesn't make it obvious what it is AND the tags aren't clear, I'm not going to reblog. I can't keep spending 5 minutes or more trying to figure out what I'm even looking at, scared that if I guess wrong the artist will get mad at me for mistagging their work. If I do reblog, I'll tag only the artist name and/or whatever else I can identify for sure.

4. I am no longer going to follow #link click. The fandom is just too big. I've started dreading checking it. If I was more into it and less busy I would make another spin off just for it but neither of those is true. (The art is so good, I hate to do this, but. If you love link click, highly recommend the main tag, lots of great stuff there.)

5. I will no longer tag any non-cnovel content in the art/post. Like, if someone draws, idek, Xie Lian and Marinette from Ladybug, I'm not gonna put any tags for Marinette, just for Xie Lian.

6. Basically if I run into something hard to tag or confusing or unclear, my new policy is I'm not gonna fricken bother.

I think those are everything but idefk, I cried for 3 hours last night and got 4 hours of sleep so I'm mostly fueled by exhaustion and desperation right now and my memory is even more fried than usual.

How artists can help. This is obviously all optional. You do you. But since some people might want to know what would make my life easier, I'm sharing. I'm not claiming I feel entitled to dictate how people fandom or anything like that.

1. Put the tags for the character(s) and ship(s) early in the tag list.

2. If you make art for a fandom that isn't one of the big ones (right now the only big danmei fandoms on tumblr as far as I can tell are the MXTX fandoms and maybe 2ha) I am begging you to use my tracked tag #cnovelartreblogs

3. Do mdzs art? Tag #mdzs. Do tgcf art? Tag #tgcf. Do svsss art? Tag #svsss.

4. Not only artists, but everyone, *please* stop tagging fandoms not discussed and/or depicted in your post. It's gotten to be stupid common for people to blanket the danmei fandom tags with posts only about one fandon (like, svsss-only works also being tagged mdzs and tgcf and 2ha for some damn reason). This isn't about just my sideblogs tbh this is just fandom etiquette that seems to have been forgotten or never learned by many. Tagging unrelated fandoms isn't "reach," it's annoying. People go into the #mdzs tag to see mdzs, not whatever not-mdzs stuff people have decided to tag for ~reach~, and seeing the same post in 8 tags, none of which it's related to, is so damn irritating, and makes scrolling the tags looking for content that IS relevant take that much longer. Knock it off.

Okay. I think that's as much as I'm prepared to meltdown where everyone can see. Thanks in advance everyone for your understanding, and apologies to everyone about to see this 8 times as I reblog it to each sideblog.

At least I'm not tagging it to everywhere. 🤣🤣🤣

[7s3ven]

BUY ME PRESENTS. harry potter

( master list )

IN WHICH… Y/N L/N’s situationship, Matteo Riddle, isn’t the best boyfriend material and when he forgets to buy her a Christmas present, she finally breaks it off. Luckily, she knows someone who’ll do everything Matteo didn’t.

“Some guys get the girl everybody wants and forget she’s still the girl everybody wants.”

MERRY CHRISTMAS GUYS! - 25/12/2023

Warning: Matteo and Y/N kinda swear a lot, oh well

“It's a packed holiday and I got options, babe. If you don't wanna buy me presents. Drink me like a warm glass of milk

If you're not gonna race here from the North Pole to Beverly Hills. Just to keep my stocking filled. Well, I know somebody who will.”

Christmas and winter was a big deal at Hogwarts. Long strings of tinsel littered the stone hallways and shiny, delicate ornaments were hung up everywhere.

A H/C-haired girl rocked back and forth on her heels as she waited outside the Slytherin common room. She sighed, clicking her tongue. “What’s taking him so long?” She whispered under her breath.

Matteo was usually one to be late, but not on important days. Today was Christmas for goodness sake, Y/N’s favorite holiday.

Finally, the door to the common room slid open and Matteo walked out. His white shirt was messily tucked into his pants and the top few buttons were undone, irking Y/N who always looked perfect.

“Yo, Clarisse said you wanted to talk to me. Shoot.” Matteo shoved his hands into his pockets while Y/N lightly scoffed.

“Did you forget what day it is?” She questioned, arching an eyebrow. If the present in her hand didn’t give it away then she didn’t know what else would.

“Monday?”

“It’s Christmas, Matteo.” Y/N uttered, “Does that jog your memory?”

“Oh, yeah. I just woke up so I’m still dazed.”

Y/N could smell the cigarette smoke in his breath. “Or stoned. Why are you still smoking? You know how I hate it.”

Matteo carelessly shrugged. “It relieves stress, babe. I am quitting. Just give me like, two more months and I’ll be done.”

Y/N bit back a snarky retort. He always said he was quitting but he never actually did. “Well, anyway, I got you a gift. Merry Christmas, Matt.” She held the box up, smiling.

Matteo slowly took it. He opened the lid, his eyebrows raising at what was inside. “You got me… something from Vivienne Westwood?” It was clear that Matteo wasn’t as rich as his Slytherin friends were. With no parents or caretaker, all he could do was leech off people.

“It’s a lighter. You never light the candles in your room, which is… weird because that’s what they’re for. But, I guess you can use it to light cigars too. I also overheard Draco complaining about how he doesn’t have that but wants it. You can fit in with your friends with it.” Y/N shrugged.

“Jeez. This must’ve cost a lot.” Matteo held the lighter in his hand, whistling at how it shined. “Fucking hell.”

“Hey, Matty, we’re gonna open presents. You joining us?” A slim blond girl peeked her head out of the common room, grinning. “I got you a real good present this time.”

“You’re too sweet, Lina. I’ll be in a minute. I think you’ll like your present too.” Matteo chuckled before he glanced back at Y/N. “What are you still doing here?”

“What? No present for me?” Y/N said it in a joking manner to hide the pit she felt in her stomach.

“Why would I get you something?”

Y/N lightly scoffed. “I don’t know, Matteo. Maybe because we’ve been seeing each other for the past year?”

“Hey. We haven’t been seeing each other. I just find you when I want a good fuck. Know your place, Y/N. It’s not like we’re dating.”

Y/N sharply clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Right.” She sarcastically smiled, “What was I thinking? My place is obviously to be at your beck and call. My apologies for the mixup. Have a good day, Matteo.”

Y/N spun around, walking away. She heard Matteo laugh in disbelief and one part of her wished he would run after her and hand her a gift. He didn’t. He strutted back into the Slytherin chamber and back to those insufferable girls.

Y/N sat on the stairs amongst the green, red, and white decorations, staring at the ground. She was clad in a short black and white fur blazer and a skirt. Fleece leggings lined her legs, keeping her warm, and she had her Ravenclaw scarf wrapped around her neck.

She lightly sniffled, playing with a silver bracelet her friend had given to her as an early present. She wasn’t too sure what she was upset about right now.

Perhaps it was because she was lonely in the Ravenclaw common room. Everybody was gone, not even her study partner had stayed behind this year. Or maybe it was because of a certain brown-haired boy who was as heartless and oblivious as always.

It was most likely the latter.

Y/N wanted to feel happy, especially since today was Christmas, a holiday she enjoyed a little too much. But with no friends to laugh with, no family to return to, and not even a boy to sit next to the fire with, she felt sad.

“Are you actually crying?”

Y/N hadn’t even noticed Matteo approach her until it was too late. At least he had thought twice before leaving her alone.

He stood in front of her, fiddling with the multiple rings that adorned his long fingers. “Seriously, Y/N? Just because I didn’t get you a Christmas gift?”

Y/N glared up at him. “Can you try being nice for one second? Who knows, you might like it.” Throughout the whole year, Matteo and Y/N had something going on. They were never in a confirmed relationship but they weren’t merely friends either.

Though, in the past few months, the two couldn’t seem to stop bantering.

“Look, I’ll get you a gift tomorrow. Happy?”

Y/N quietly scoffed as she stood up. “No. You always forget things like these, Matteo. It’s getting annoying.” Y/N turned around to walk up the stairs but she barely took two steps before Matteo grabbed her wrist.

“Where are you going? I thought we were going to spend Christmas together.”

Y/N tauntingly raised an eyebrow at Matteo. “You were giving me the silent treatment up until now. I had to bribe that girl, Clair or whatever her name was, to let me see you.”

“Her name is Clarisse.” Matteo corrected her.

Y/N stared at him, wondering how he thought it was a good time to correct her. “What? I’m trying to make a point here and you’re concerned about her name? Unbelievable. Maybe I should find some people who actually enjoy my presence.”

Matteo sneered. “So, what? You just gonna go back to that Potter boy? You’re leading him on, Y/N. We both know your heart belongs to me.”

“Belonged.” Y/N corrected him, “Past tense. This thing we have between us is done. I’m not going to be a stupid late night call for you anymore.” She forced Matteo to let go of her and walked away, ignoring his shouts that echoed around the corridors.

“I taught you everything! I taught you how to stand up for yourself! I made you popular! I practically created you from nothing!” Matteo angrily exclaimed at the bottom of the steps. “You can’t leave me!”

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at the enraged brunette. She smiled. “Watch me.”

The last thing Y/N heard Matteo say was when he furiously shouted her name, his booming voice showcasing his fiery rage.

Y/N knocked against the Gryffindor painting, sighing. The Fat Lady seemed to notice her mood.

“What happened this time?” She asked. Matteo and Y/N were no secret; they were the talk of the school with Matteo being Voldemort’s son and Y/N’s cousin being a death-eater. A year ago, it was even rumoured she was one herself.

Y/N stared up at the Fat Lady with teary eyes. “Matteo. I… broke it off with me.”

“Oh, honey, I know it may not seem like it now, but it was the right decision.”

Y/N softly smiled. “I know… I know.”

“Are you here to see the Potter boy?”

“Yes. Is he here?” Y/N wasn’t even sure if Harry was at Hogwarts. During second year, he had gone to stay with Ron.

“Of course. And the Weasley boy and the Granger girl. They’re all here.” The Fat Lady swung backwards, smiling, “Go on, dear.”

Y/N stepped into the Gryffindor common room, looking around. “Harry? Hello? Anybody here?” The room was empty. Y/N glanced over at the crackling fire and went to sit beside it, warning her cold hands.

She quietly clicked her tongue, staring at the blazing flames.

“Y/N?” Hermione questioned, walking up behind the H/C-nette, “What’s wrong?” Y/N quickly stood up, embracing her brown-haired friend into a tight hug.

“I did it.” She whispered, “I ended things with Matt- I mean, Riddle.”

“Oh… Are you feeling okay?” Hermione gently sat Y/N down on the couch, rubbing comforting circles into her back. “Do you want anything? Any water or food?”

Y/N stared at her hands. “Is… Harry here?”

“Yeah. I’ll get him.” Hermione stood up and went to fetch the boy. “She and Matteo broke things off.” She whispered in Harry’s ear, which sent a rush of excitement through the brunette. He never did like Matteo after all. He was a playboy to put it simply. Not only that, but for the longest time Harry had liked Y/N.

Matteo didn’t appreciate her but Harry did. He could treat her better than Matteo ever could.

“Hermione told me what happened. Are you okay?” Harry sat down beside Y/N, holding a neatly wrapped present. He heard Y/N heave a sigh.

“I think… I mean, obviously I’m a little sad but it feels good knowing I won’t have to deal with his annoying ass again.” Y/N uttered, eliciting a small amused chuckle out of Harry.

“Yeah… I got you something, by the way.” Harry handed the gift over to Y/N with shaking hands.

“Oh… that’s sweet. You didn’t have to.” She smiled, carefully unwrapping the present.

“I wanted to… you said that was your favorite book so I bought you the limited edition cover one… with a bit more.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in confusion as Harry. She slowly opened the novel to a page tabbed with a (favorite color) sticker note.

Merry Christmas, Y/N. Thank you for being such a loyal fan throughout my career.

- Your favorite author

Underneath the short message was the writer’s signature as well as a polaroid picture of Harry and the author.

“Oh my gosh… how did you… what…” Y/N was at a loss for words as she turned to Harry and tightly hugged him. “I don’t have a present for you… I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled as Y/N pulled away. “It’s fine. Having you here makes up for it.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N furrowed her brows, “I can buy you something tomorrow. Or I’m sure I have a have a golden snitch lying around here somewhere.” Y/N pulled a snitch from out of her pocket, “Remember this, Harry? You almost choked to death on it in your first game.”

“What the… how did you…” Harry was as flabbergasted as Y/N now. She laughed, handing it over to him.

“Well, after you almost swallowed it, nobody really wanted to play with it anymore. So I asked Wood to get it for me. We spent a good time cleaning it.”

Harry chuckled, staring at the small golden ball in awe. “That’s… amazing. Jeez. Riddle really doesn’t deserve you.”

Y/N’s shoulders visibly shrunk at the mentioning of the brunette’s name.

“Oh…” Harry instantly noticed, “Sorry, too soon?”

Y/N silently shook her head. “No… I’m fine…” She turned her head, beaming at Harry with a smile that made him melt. “You’re right, he didn’t deserve me. Thank you for the book, Harry. It’s wonderful.”

She embraced him once again and Harry could feel his cheeks heat up at the contact. There was a small jingle and as Y/N lifted her head, she couldn’t help but laugh.

Mistletoe floated above the pair, jingling as if to remind the two it was there. Harry gazed over Y/N’s shoulder at Ron, who held his wand in one hand and was giving Harry a thumbs up with the other.

“It’d be rude to defy the rules of Christmas, especially with how much you love it.” Harry uttered.

Y/N laughed again. “I suppose so.”

“You don’t have to kiss me for real. You can kiss me on the cheek or something or”- Harry was cut off when Y/N grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him forward and kissing him.

Harry was the complete opposite of Matteo. The Slytherin boy was rough and uncaring while Harry was soft and gentle. The brunette with glasses carefully grasped Y/N’s hands, squeezing them tightly.

“I don’t know if this is too soon, Y/N.” Harry said as he pulled away slightly. “But, I like you. I’ve liked you for ages. Ever since first year. And the only reason I didn’t like Riddle was because I hated how he had managed to attract your attention. I think you’re wonderful and you shouldn’t be stuck with someone like Riddle. You don’t have to give me your answer now… but just consider it.”

Y/N gazed at Harry, her heart doing flips in her chest. This was a feeling she hadn’t felt in a long time. She shyly adverted her eyes. “I… I don’t know what to say Harry. I think I like you too… but I feel like it’s too soon.”

“I don’t mind waiting. I just need you to know that I’m willing to race here from the North Pole to Beverly Hills. Just to keep your stocking filled.”

Y/N giggled. “That’s cute, Harry.” She leaned forward, pressing another chaste kiss to his lips. “Merry Christmas, Harry.”

START OF TERM (BONUS)…

“What the fuck, asshole?!” Matteo’s loud shout caused the Great Hall to fall into silence. They all watched as he stormed towards the Gryffindor table, slamming his hands in front of Harry. “You kissed my girl!” He exclaimed.

Y/N turned her head, staring at Matteo with furrowed eyebrows.

“What’s going on?” Her friend tugged on her sleeve.

“I’m… not sure.” Y/N replied, craning to get a better look.

“What are you talking about, Riddle?” Harry asked, confused.

“You know who the fuck I’m talking about! Y/N fucking L/N! You kissed her!” Matteo was getting angrier by the second.

“Hey, dude, relax.” Lorenzo grabbed Matteo by the shoulders, forcing him out of the Great Hall. The rest of his friend group followed.

Y/N sighed, standing up. “I’m going to talk to Matteo.” She announced.

“What? Are you crazy?” Her friend tried to get Y/N to sit back down again.

“He deserves an explanation… and I also want to make it clear that we’re no longer a thing.” Y/N followed after the Slytherin gang and jogged to walk beside Pansy, who was lagging behind.

“What’s gotten into him?” Y/N questioned Pansy, who seemed to like her the best out of all the girls Matteo hooked up with.

“I don’t know.” Pansy sighed, “He just started acting mental after he found out you and Potter were going out. But, he doesn’t really deserve to be mad when it’s his fault.”

“Matt, dude, what’s gotten into you?” Theodore asked as Matteo silently seethed.

“I fucking hate Potter.” He uttered through gritted teeth. He looked up, spotting Y/N. Instantly, the fire in his eyes disappeared.

“Riddle.” Y/N greeted him calmly, nodding her head in acknowledgment. “There seems to be a misunderstanding.”

“Why did you kiss Potter?” Matteo demanded, clenching his hands into fists.

“Why can’t I? I’m free to do whatever I want. After all, it’s not like we’re dating, right? You said it yourself.”

Matteo angrily exhaled.

“Besides, what are you gonna do? Are you gonna kill me, Matteo?” Y/N taunted. “Like you said last year because you didn’t want to commit to someone? Instead of committing to a girl, you would rather kill her?”

“It was a joke!”

“Jokes are supposed to be funny! Fuck you, Matteo! You piece of shit!”

Matteo, in a surge of rage, grabbed Y/N by the collar. Lorenzo stepped forward to interrupt the situation, but Harry beat him to it.

“Don’t touch her.” Harry glowered at Matteo as he pulled Y/N away from his grasp. “You made your choice. Deal with it because it’s your fault you lost Y/N in the first place.”

Y/N sighed, brushing the wrinkles out of her blouse. “I hope we can talk again under better circumstances, Riddle. Good day.”

Y/N walked off and Harry followed close behind.

“How good did that feel?” He questioned, grinning.

“It felt amazing!” Y/N grinned, “I can’t believe I just sweared at the Matteo Riddle and got away with it.”

“So, what do you say we have some fruitcakes and figgy pudding to celebrate?” Harry slung an arm around Y/N’s shoulder while she playfully scoffed.

“It’s January, Harry.”

“Yeah? So? It’s never too early to celebrate Christmas.”

[loudclan-clangen]

(I thought of something funny)

Whenever Owlstar comes back to camp from solo walks, there's just this giant banner at the entrance reading "Welcome Back, Cheater."

Slitsplash swears they didn't put it up, but appreciates whoever did it.

Meanwhile, Fiercestripe is smirking in the background. (She did it)

They’re throwing him a party!

(˃̣̣̥▽˂̣̣̥) These asks all flow together so well I genuinely cannot tell if they are multiple people or just one person who is SO PISSED. Made my night to see these all come in at about 2am. If Owlstar has 100 haters im one of them, if Owlstar has 1 hater it's me, if Owlstar has no haters im dead.

I do! It was actually incredibly comical from my perspective because Eklutna showed up, did fuck all for 5 moons, got pregnant, then promptly died giving birth, to which i went "aw, that sucks" clicked on her kits, and SAW THAT THIER DAD WAS THE LEADER, SOMETHING THAT I DID NOT KNOW COULD HAPPEN. Eklutna didn't even have any romantic like for him, to my recollection, and Owlstar had like maybe a single tick for her? It was really just lucky rng I guess. Owl and Silt actually didn't break up in the game at all, in my original draft for the story, when i was just writing notes as i played, Siltsplash was a lot more... okay with it? Like they were pissed but their personality was a lot more demure so they didn't act on anything really. The exact quote from the draft was: "I won’t lie to you. I’m angry. Starclan, I’m more than angry, I’m furious. I have half the mind to tell you to leave and never come back.” They paused, seeing Owlstar deflate and taking some slight, bitter satisfaction in it before continuing, “But that wouldn’t be fair to those kits. They didn’t ask to be born, much less to you. They deserve to have a family, or as much of it as they are able to have, and starclan help me we’re in this together." It certainly fit with what I knew about them then, but given my ability to look forward and see future events, I decided that a break up made more sense.

Don't be sorry! I am not currently in artfight, I'm considering it but I wouldn't be able to be very active due to school, and I don't want to take another break from this blog so soon after my last, so it's not very high up on my list of priorities. I'm kinda casually working on refs for the more popular characters, so there's a chance I'll get those done and join a team, especially if it's something you guys want me to do. If that happens I'll be sure to let you guys know! I am now in art fight! I gave into peer pressure again. (In a good way).

I don't think even Silt knew. Siltsplash was OUT of it after their conversation with Owlstar, (see: the Eklutna hallucination), and they probably didn't even know where they were headed until they reached the nursery. But after setting eyes on the kits, Siltslpash knew that there was only one option. Yes, they "took the kids in the divorce" but truly they weren't thinking about revenge. They just saw kids who needed something that they could provide.

In terms of writing, though, since I have hundreds of moons of foresight, it was a total bait and switch. I needed to make sure that people had a reason to come back after the break and any comic with kittens in it usually gets a lot of attention, so it was a "marketing" decision to split up the moon the way that I did, in order to make sure that there wasn't too bad of a fall off in interaction for the blog.

In game Eklutna had an affair with Owlstar, died giving birth, and the "died giving birth" event overwrote the "reveal affair" event so technically, in game Owlstar didn't reveal the affair... ever? (Though I had written in my notes that he told Siltsplash who took them as their own). Story wise, Owlstar hadn't planned to tell anyone until the kits started asking about who their father was. Then he would tell them, and would probably reveal it to the clan when they earned their names and were able to become deputy. But, when Eklutna died all that went out the window. For all his faults, Owlstar is not a bad dad, and he would never leave his kits orphaned, even if it would get him in a lot of trouble to do so. He really does care for them, and he feels terrible about how much he's screwed up their lives so far.

He did bad, deitycrows, he did bad. He cheated on his mate and then his affair partner died in childbirth so he's not very popular rn, I've got to be honest.

I don't think it helps at all but, Owlstar did really genuinely like Eklutna! Now, was that because she never opposed him on anything and flattered him with adoring compliments at every opportunity? Possibly. But the "Starclan said" thing was honestly just more of an excuse for him. He woulda had an affair anyway, he just wouldn't have intentionally had kits with her.

:) Eklutna liked... the power that Owlstar held. She liked that he was chosen by Starclan to lead the clan, she liked that his kits are meant to inherit the position of leadership, and she liked that as the mother of his kits she would have a lot of control over both him and the leader after him. As far as his personality... he's kinda a clown but she could live with that.

To be frank: The order of inheritance is ABSOLUTELY FUCKED. If Eklutna had lived, it would be easy. She would take over as deputy until one of the kits was old enough to hold the position. But, since she's dead and Owlstar's only heirs are literal infants, as their adoptive parent Siltsplash is still the deputy for now. What happens when the kits reach adulthood is kinda up for debate. As Owlstar's closest descendant, Songkit should be deputy upon earning his warrior name, BUT Siltsplash is very much against that plan, and the kits might not want to go against their most attentive parent. So the very unhelpful answer is: We have to wait and see what the characters decide.

Thank you so much! I love to hear from first time viewers and see what you guys think of the characters! I'm glad that the dialogue worked so well and Eklutna definitely has Sol vibes! You look at both of them and go "in what world would this plan work the way you wanted it to???"

[saddleseatollie]

I'm ~15 hours into KCD2 and I have So Many Thoughts (no spoilers):

Look when I first heard about this game, it was via Youtube ad. I'd never heard of the first game and I literally thought it one of those shitty mobile games where it's advertised as "you can be king and fuck serving girls because we know you're a lonely incel"

But then the game was released and suddenly I was seeing stuff about it everywhere. Half my Tik Tok FYP became KCD2, and it wasn't long before it took over my dash on Tumblr as well. The more I saw/heard about this game, the more I realized just how wrong I was in my first assessment.

The clincher? The Hans romance.

Look, I'm a simple man. I see an enemies to friends to lovers trope and I fall in love with it. I am also a very gay man, so yeah I wanna kiss the bratty twink. Easy.

I still wasn't going to buy the game, though. I am, after all, but a humble college student who just wants to afford groceries. If I'm going to drop $70 on a game, I have to be damn sure it'll be worth every last penny.

But eventually, after watching countless videos wherein I saw just how fun this game looked (I will never be a person who buys and plays an entire game because of a single romance choice), I decided I would give it a try.

Loading up the game I felt incredibly optimistic about it. It looked so fun and interesting in all the videos, and I couldn't wait. But as soon as I finished the prologue, my optimism began to fade.

Everything seemed so difficult, so far out of reach. I had no groschen, no easy way to make any, and it felt like everything I wanted to do was a crime. The combat was so hard I avoided it at all costs, and even after I managed to make some groschen I had no idea where to go or what to do. The world was so big, so full of options that it quickly became overwhelming. It took me 10 hours of gameplay just to complete my first full questline simply because it was just that difficult.

The worst of it came during one of the last objectives for said questline. I had to defeat a camp of bandits in order to progress, and I couldn't for the life of me figure out how to do the combat. I had nothing but some shitty armor and a low quality hunting sword I'd made at the smithy.

I'm not exaggerating when I say it took me 6 hours of real-life time to complete that objective. I was so angry and frustrated I regretted ever downloading the game. But eventually I did it, and the feeling was amazing.

That was the turning point.

I completed the questline, sold some stolen horses so I could stop worrying about money, and started competing in archery contests to improve my strength and agility.

It was when I was an hour deep into those contests that I understood what the game was doing. With every round, I was doing better. I was improving. Not "I" as in "Henry" but "I" as in "me, the player".

This game takes actual effort to play. Fighting, archery, even the blacksmithing minigame requires effort from the player. It's not just "click a few buttons in the right order". You have to watch, pay attention, do things at the right time in the right order and with the right force.

So yeah the early game is so fucking difficult because you as the player are probably new to these skills. I was, anyway. I'd never played a game before where hitting a combo required anything more than pressing two buttons at the same time.

But the more I played, the more I started to get the hang of things. I started to figure out when to block and when to strike, how to aim my bow and fire at just the right time to maintain both accuracy and stamina, how to set the proper rhythm when forging weapons.

And guess what? The game rewarded me for it. As Henry's skills leveled up and I started unlocking new perks and buffs, it felt like I, as the player, was improving. As someone who tends to get frustrated when learning new skills because I feel like I'm not improving at all, it was huge for me.

This game requires no small amount of genuine effort for new players, but it makes you feel so, so amazing when you start getting better. I've never played anything like it.

Maybe none of this is particularly revolutionary for experienced gamers. Maybe a lot of games are like this, I honestly don't know. I haven't played very many video games. It was only when I bought my first PlayStation about a year ago that I got into video games. Either way, I don't think it matters.

This game is incredible, and I absolutely cannot wait to keep playing. If I didn't need to go to class I would do nothing but play this game all day.

Audentes Fortuna Iuvat, or whatever.