#so it comes off as really flat more often than not
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School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy
So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)
What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”
Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.
The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.
Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!
So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.
I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.
A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.
‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.
Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.
Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.
Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.
“It didn’t have any words,” she said.
(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)
Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.
I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.
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Dagger In The Heart
pairing: ellie williams x afab! reader
post about palestine - please be aware and know who your content comes from. this post informs you about the tlou writers and creators, as well as how to help the Palestinian people.
word count: 6.1k words
warnings: MINORS DNI!!! 18+ ty!!! abusive relationship mentioned, reader's bf is a cheating asshole, calls her names, makes comments about weight, talks of cheating, some lowkey cheating from reader, sharing clothes with ellie, ellie is 18+ but her age not specified, talks of hardly eating food at dinner, reader is a bit confused with her sexuality and wants to explore (which is fine!!! and normal!!!), wlw relations, pussy eating, fingering, tribbing, tattoos? lots of tattoos, dirty talk, reader being a bit desperate, getting caught (but not really), mentions of a strap, men being drunk and stupid. that's it. I think.
description: when you get the chance to meet your asshole boyfriend’s family, you take a liking to his sister, ellie. when a conversation about her tattoos turns into talks of what you’re really into, you can’t help but want to explore it more.
author’s note: hi girls, gays, and theys! I am so happy to be bringing this request to you. it was an anon request from july and I just suck at getting my life together to actually write. but here we are. FYI, I don't condone this behavior or cheating. anyway I hope you enjoy. I will also be putting this on my ao3 soon, so if you see it there, don't worry, it's just me (;
“You gotta chill, babe. Your anxiety is giving me anxiety.”
He was never very good with comforting you, so you bite back your snappy comment and just fake a smile.
You had been dating your boyfriend Matt for almost a year. You two met in your college biology class and really bonded over your love for folk music and Greek food. He had kind eyes, mousy brown hair and the brightest smile you had ever seen.
At first, you thought this was the best relationship you ever could ask for, but Matt grew distant after four months together. You didn’t know why, but his temper had shown itself one too many times. He fought with you constantly. He was quite jealous. You could never be seen with another boy without accusations of cheating. But every time you two argued, he always came back with an apology and a bouquet of flowers. You could not help but believe you could fix him.
It had been 10 months, you had to brave meeting his family. Unlike you, his family lived two towns over and he visited them quite often. He was close to his younger brother and mom, so he made a point to see them as much as he could.
He brought up the idea of meeting them back around the holidays, but you were planning to board a flight and visit your family across the country. He understood but was pretty disappointed you could not try his mom’s infamous pumpkin pie.
You had no excuse when summer came. So here you are, standing with him at his childhood home’s front door as he scrambled to find his keys.
You were sporting something more dressed up than your normal. Matt loved this one black dress on you, so you decided to wear that with some cute flats. You were sorely regretting the shoe decision, the pointed-toed shoes squeezed your big toe and the arch was not high enough to be comfortable.
He unlocks the deadbolt and the red door jolts open. You are instantly met with the scent of BBQ and cornbread. His childhood is cozy and lived in. The entrance is lined with shoes, everything from high heels to sneakers that have run through countless puddles. It was a sigh of relief, they were a no-shoes in the house family. You kick off your uncomfortable shoes, holding on to Matt’s shoulder for balance.
His mom is the first one to enter the hallway to meet you two at the door. She is quite beautiful, her hair darker than Matt’s. She was shorter, wearing a nice blouse and jeans. She welcomes you both with a bear hug and cheers of excitement. When she pulls you out of the embrace, she gets a better look at you.
“You are more beautiful in person, pictures do not do your gorgeous smile justice,” She remarks, squeezing your hands.
You shake your head, trying your best not to let out that you are beyond nervous about this entire encounter. “You are too kind, thank you so much for hosting us.”
“Come meet the crew!”
Matt eyes meet yours, noticing how tense you are. You had hoped for him to hold your hand and guide you through this experience, but instead he just nudges you with his shoulder. He brushes by, heading after his mom.
The hallway opens into a kitchen and living room, which is littered with random strangers who, in some way, resemble your boyfriend.
His brother, Collin, stands up first from the barstools, racing over to your boyfriend to dap him up. When he glances your way, you just smile and introduce yourself. He extends his hand to shake yours, which you gladly accept.
His dad is next to stand up from a recliner in the living room. He makes your acquaintance quickly, telling you he’s so glad to finally meet you after months of hearing all about you.
When he moves away from in front of you, she comes into focus. You had not even noticed her sitting on the couch across the room.
She’s slender, her dark locks framing her chiseled jawline. She looks like Matt, but more like a person who belongs in a Renaissance painting. Her eyes are a more dimensional brown. She has freckles scattered around her pale complexion, which only added her beauty.
You do not realize you are gawking until Matt nudges you. “This is my sister, Ellie.”
You blink again, bringing your focus back to the situation. She extends her hand, and that’s when you take notice to her tattoo-filled arms. Her tank top raises a bit and you catch a glance of her midriff, exposing more tattoos littering her abdomen.
“Nice to meet ya. Heard plenty about you.”
You swallow, taking her hand and shaking it. “I hope good things.”
“No, I only tell her the worst things about you.”
Everyone giggles except you and Ellie. Luckily it is filling the room with enough noise to drown out your thoughts about your boyfriend’s beautiful sister.
Ellie rolls her eyes before whispering, “Don’t worry, it’s only ever good things, sweet cheeks.”
-
Matt’s dad loves to talk and you can tell it annoys Ellie. You were seated outside on their patio set, drinking some homemade lemonade Matt’s mom was adamant you had. He was helping her with all the sides that were still yet to be made, so you took up Ellie’s offer to check out the backyard space. You did not expect Matt’s dad to come with you two and tell you all about the flower beds he curated.
But you listened, smiling and nodding while sipping on your tart drink.
He got occupied with grilling, so you and Ellie were left on the couch near a very used and abused firepit.
You wait for her to say something. She was truly making you nervous, her eyes trailing you every so often.
“So, you and Matt met in science class?”
You finally look back at her wandering eyes, “Yeah, he was my biology partner.”
“Gotcha,” She leans forward, putting her elbows on her knees. You do not know what comes over you, but you cannot physically pull your eyes away from her arms as they flex. “You good?”
“I like your tattoos,” You barely manage to say, “They are… hot.”
You want to jump into the unlit firepit for that one.
No other adjective came to your horny mind? Really?
She giggles, enjoying watching you practically squirm under her gaze. “Thanks, dude. My ex girlfriend was a tattoo artist so I let her practice on me.”
You remember a moment about 5 months ago when Matt mentioned his sister being gay, but for some reason, you finally connect that duh it’s Ellie, you fucking idiot.
You also remember some choice words he had about her. You remember cringing when he called her a slur and said she could not keep a girl to save her life. You held your tongue and refused to reply.
“That’s awesome,” You scoot closer to her, bridging more of the gap between you two on the couch, “Which one is your favorite?”
She smiles at your intrusion into her space and questions. You realize you two are almost sizing each other up, right in front of her family, your boyfriend’s family. They could easily peek outside of the kitchen windows and see you two eye fucking each other. She leans back, her eyes tracing all the tattoos on her arms.
Then she laughs. A deep guttural laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing,” She brings her front teeth down on her bottom lip before speaking up again, “It’s a tattoo I can’t show you.”
“Why not?”
She looks towards the window, checking on her brother and mom. Her expression changes when she turns back to you.
“Because I’m not pulling my tits out in front of my family.”
Your pussy practically pulses when you hear her say it. What is wrong with you? You are dating her brother. What is wrong with you?!
“Your… boobs are tattooed?”
She nods slowly, bringing her one hand up to your bare exposed thigh, “Bet that shakes a sweet one like you to your core.”
The comment insinuates that you are an innocent little girl who knows nothing about the world. And sure Matt is your first real boyfriend. Sure he was the first person ever to eat you out because your high school crushes did not even know that was a thing. Sure you never have been sexually promiscuous. Sure you thought you were straight.
Sure.
But something inside you was crawling its way out. This small interaction with your asshole boyfriend’s sister was enough to send you into a spiral. You never gave a girl a chance so how were you supposed to know you did not like it?
“What if your family wasn’t around?”
Ellie is gobsmacked by your comment, her jaw practically hitting the floor. You can tell she realized she was flying too close to the sun. She pulls her hand away from your leg.
“You are my brother’s girlfriend. I am not going to be the one to corrupt you,” She states, scooting over a bit away from you. Your cheeks get flushed, instantly feeling embarrassed for asking such a question. But the more you sat in silence, the more you realized that you really did not care. The feelings Ellie made you feel within the last 10 minutes were more exciting than any feeling Matt had given you in 10 months.
You clear your throat, “Luckily for you, Ellie, you would not be the one to corrupt me. That has already been done.”
She looks at you quizzically, “Is that so?”
“Yeah, I may look sweet and innocent,” You creep in close to her, “But I am really a freak.”
Now you are just lying.
Before she can utter a word, Matt’s brother comes out to let you two know dinner was done. You hope and pray he didn’t take notice to how close you two were. Or how Ellie stared at your ass as you walked away.
-
You sit between Matt and Ellie at the table.
Every so often during the meal, you would place your hand on Matt’s leg. He would push you away, rolling his eyes when you glared at him. When the conversation came around to him, he would find a way to demean you and then continue blabbing about school or his internship.
You answered questions from his mom and dad, but you were sorely uninterested in them. But then the conversation comes around as to whether you two would be staying the night tonight. At this point, Matt had already had four beers, and you knew he probably would not want you driving his new Mustang.
“You can take Matt’s bed and he can sleep on the couch,” His mom suggests, indicating that you two would not be sleeping together. You understood that they were a bit more traditional, but you were not expecting to sleep in your boyfriend's childhood bed without him.
“That’s a great idea, Ma. We can stay, right?”
You look at the plate of practically untouched food in front of you. You just nod, finally saying, “As long as you give me some comfy sweatpants to wear.”
“Mine are all back at my apartment, but I’m sure Ellie has something you could borrow. Plus, you probably wouldn’t fit my sweatpants.”
Matt constantly made comments about your figure and how he could not share clothes with you. He refused to share his clothes with you, stating that you would not be able to squeeze into them and you also “left your scent on everything”.
God, he made you feel terrible about yourself.
Butterflies erupt in your stomach when you think about wearing Ellie’s clothes, though, and you completely drown out the separate conversation happening around the table. You feel a hand creep up your thigh, but it's not coming from the side you expect.
Her hand is so soft and delicate as it creeps up your leg. You cannot help but glance at her direction, catching her smiling over at you.
“Don’t worry, I got something you can wear.”
-
Dinner finishes up and Matt expresses that he wants to go for a round of drinks with his high school friends and brother at the local tavern down the street. He never asks if you want to go, telling you “It would just be high school friends that you don’t know, anyway.”
He tells you that his Mom and Ellie would get you all set up. He gives you a pat on the back, and heads to the door, right behind his brother. You watch him leave and almost breathe a sigh of relief.
When you turn back, you see his Mom already going upstairs.
“I’m gonna get your bed all set up and then I’m probably going to retire to my bed, too.” She states, slowly making her way up the wooden staircase.
You wanted to scream because this only meant one thing. You were alone with Ellie.
You follow her up the stairs and look around the hallway. She heads to the right and begins pointing at the only room with the light on. You didn’t even know that Ellie was upstairs.
“Have Ellie get you something to wear, I’ll make up your bed!”
The door swings open and Ellie stands there, having changed into her own bedtime clothes. And for fucks sake, she’s not making this easy for you.
She is sporting a tight white tank, no bra, and shorts that ride up to the very tops of her thighs. Her legs are tattooed as well, but not as much as her arms. There isn’t a touch of her freckled skin that isn’t marked with art. You can almost see through her shirt, making your mouth go dry.
“Let’s see what you fit into!”
She lets you into her space. Her room is decorated with posters of space and heavy metal bands. From the looks of one corner of her room, she’s an artist. She has different art styles, anywhere from charcoal to watercolors, littering a desk and her walls. It’s messy, but it’s not dirty. It smells like incense and clean laundry.
She walks over to her dresser, opens up the top drawer. Everything is neatly folded, which kind of surprises you.
“I have some sweatpants, shorts, boxers-“
“Sweatpants are fine,” You retort, not wanting her to list off anything else, “Do you have any t-shirts I could wear?”
“Well of course I do, sweet cheeks. What do you want, loose or tight?”
You stare at her dumbfounded. You know what she’s doing. And you hate yourself for liking it so much.
She pulls out a pair of navy blue sweatpants, still waiting for your reply.
“Loose.”
She starts to dig through another drawer when Matt’s mom pops her head in.
“It’s all set up for you, sweetheart. If you need anything, you let one of us know. I’m going to downstairs if you need me.”
You smile, thankfully. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Williams.”
“If she needs anything, I’m sure I could help her find her way,” Ellie says, absentmindedly. She pulls out a white t-shirt from her drawer and tosses it at you.
“Goodnight, girls!”
And then you two are alone. Ellie slowly saunters to her door and shuts it.
“You can get dressed here. Just make sure what I gave you fits.”
You silently turned your back to her, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “Can you unzip me?”
You are not even thinking straight. You are so caught up with being alone with the girl you have had weird sexual tension with. She walks over to you confidently, before grabbing the top of your black dress, which lands right at the middle of your back. She pulls down the zipper, ensuring it reaches the very end of its track.
The hairs on your back stand up in her wake. You breathe deeply, before shimmying the dress off your shoulders. You were wearing a bra, so you were just going to keep it on. You step out of the dress, leaving you in just underwear and the push-up bra Matt gifted you not too long ago.
You don’t turn to her, but she just comes around to your front, nonchalantly.
“Jesus Christ,” Ellie stammers, before plopping on her bed. You shakingly step into the sweatpants she gifted you to wear, unsure how to respond. You rack your brain trying to gain the confidence you had before dinner, but your mouth is dry and your brain is dazed from seeing Ellie in her pajamas.
You finally manage to glance up at her hungry eyes, smiling softly.
“I never knew I would be jealous of my brother.”
You swallow, “Jealous?”
“Yeah, he gets to have someone like you every night and I can’t even find someone worth hanging out with around here. Never thought a nerd like him would win over a woman like you.”
You are standing in the sweatpants and your bra, not able to digest her words completely. A woman like you?
“Your brother is sweet. And we don’t have sex every night.”
“Just sweet?” She steps a bit closer to you, “And I said nothing about sex, darling, I said he gets to have you.”
She is looking at you like you are her prey. You almost fell to your knees and begged her to put you out of your misery, but you resisted. Instead, she just stands up, trying to catch your nervous glances.
“H-he, uh, does what he can, when we d-do, yanno.”
Her fingers trace up your arm, her eyes trailing as she does it. You bite the inside of your cheek, waiting for her response. She clicks her tongue a couple of times, shaking her head.
“I am sure he tries,” She sputters, standing back from you, “Do you even really like him?”
You furrow your eyebrows, suddenly snapping out of the situation you are currently in. You reflect for a moment.
Matt was an asshole but you sometimes enjoyed his company. He made you laugh on occasion. But deep down, you knew that he wasn’t made for you. He lacked emotional intelligence and made sure to put you down any chance he got. You had inklings he was talking to other girls and his friends were probably the most intolerable people on your college campus. And then there was that one time when the inklings were just.
The realization that you maybe didn’t like him made you sick. You wasted so much time and now you have met his family.
“When he’s not mean to me. When he isn’t cheating on me.” You admit quietly, almost too humiliated to say it.
She crooks her neck, “He cheated on you?”
You hate talking about it, it made you feel as though you were never good enough. He made it out that it was your fault because you would not have sex with him when you had the flu. “It was just some hand stuff, baby,” he said to you.
“Just once. I forgave him because he told me he loved me.”
“People who love you don’t hurt you like that,” Ellie says without a beat.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“Is he mean to you all the time?”
You think back to the last nice thing he said to you. Your ass looks fat in that dress. And even that could be seen as a bad thing. You shake your head, trying to find a good way to paint her brother. From the looks of it, she doesn’t really like him all that much anyway.
“Most of the time.”
“So, what I’m hearing is my brother is an asshole that doesn’t know how to treat a woman both in life and in the bedroom. Is that what you’re saying?”
You stand there pondering her question, coming up with nothing. She was right, but were you ready to admit that?
So you shrug.
Ellie stands with her arms crossed now, chewing on the inside of her lip. She’s contemplating something, her eyes falling to the floor for a moment.
“Listen, I am not just saying this because it has taken everything in my power to resist sinking my teeth into you,” The first half of the sentence put your heart in your throat. Nonetheless, she carries on, “But I have an inkling that you don’t like my brother at all. I think you like girls and you’ve never had the chance to explore that. You want to say you are a freak, but you really don’t know what that even means.”
“Ellie, I d-”
“You need to break up with my brother,” She states plainly, “And then, after all is said and done, I can show what it looks like to be taken care of.”
You agree, sadly. You do need to break up with Matt. And on the basis that you believe that he’s probably at the bar hanging out with old friends, probably with other girls, probably flirting with those other girls. You decide you are not going to wait anymore. He cheated on you once, what’s stopping him now? Ellie was right about everything, and while that revelation changes your entire perspective on life, you settle on jumping head first.
“Show me now.”
You watch all the blood drain from her face. She fumbles with her inked hands, waiting for you to say you didn’t mean it. That moment never comes.
“Are you sure about that?”
Swallowing hard, you just nod. You do not even realize what you are getting yourself into, but the undeniable chemistry cannot be ignored anymore. You don’t even want to waste another thought on Matt. You know if you think too hard about it, you’ll talk yourself back into staying with him.
Ellie’s face gets closer to yours and your lips connect seamlessly. She wastes no time, bringing her hands down to your waist to pull you in. You wrap your arms around her neck while fireworks erupt in your chest.
Her lips taste like mint and a dab pen your college roommate made you hit a couple of months ago. She was borderline intoxicating.
She backs you up towards her bed, letting your knees hit the edge of the mattress. You plop down, disconnecting from her lips.
Through hooded lids, she asks you, “Do you want to see my favorite tattoo, then?”
Your breathing hitches as she does not even wait for a response, she just pulls her tank top over her head.
Each piece is connected somehow. Her stomach piece is what appeared to be a dragon flying up towards her under-boob area. It was extremely detailed and took up a large half of her upper stomach. Around her collarbones were very intricate lines that almost rain over her body like veins. They spread down her chest onto her boobs, where around her nipples were two matching daggers appearing to go through her areola.
You smirk at the idea that these are her favorite tattoos. The cheeky ones around her tits.
“Holy shit, Ellie.”
You reach out and touch her tits, ever so delicately. You use your finger to outline the daggers, smiling to yourself.
Being this close sends a pulsating feeling down to your pussy. You have never felt a lightning strike quite like it before.
She’s letting you feel her up, but when you change your tune and start pinching at her nipples, she throws her head back with a groan.
“Hmm, you should try putting one in your mouth,” She remarks, hoping to God you would be eager enough to do so. She was very in tune with you because you leaned forward taking her right nipple into your mouth. She’s guiding you around every turn, whispering how good you are doing already.
You release her with a pop and sit back. You reach around to release your own, but she stops you.
“Lemme do it,” She says mounting your lap. You place your hand on her hips while she runs her fingertips across your back. She unhooks your black bra, letting your tits spill out.
You feel the tops of your hands stand up as soon as her hands begin to knead your tits. You glance down at her movements, watching your sensitive nipples perk up due to the attention she’s giving them.
“Mmm, you like that, sweetness?”
You just groan, your lips needing to do more than just talk. You pull Ellie’s ajar mouth down to yours, diving your tongue between her teeth. You never had such a hunger for anyone else. No guy ever made you feel this way.
She nudges your shoulders, having you fall onto your back. Her lips move away from yours and start to trail down your neck and chest. When her wet mouth touches your tits, you cannot control the sounds that leave your throat. She bites down on your supple skin, which makes you groan more.
“You gotta quiet down a bit. Don’t need anyone hearing us.”
You try to manage your noises, but as soon as she starts to kiss down to the hem of the sweatpants she loaned you, you know you’ll never be quiet like she needs you to be. She tugs at the waistband, taking your underwear with it.
You are now butt naked on her bed. And god, the air is hitting the wetness between your legs is titillating.
“Listen, sweets,” She whispers, palming your thighs with her tattooed hands, “I’m going to make you cum on my tongue first. Then I am going to fuck this pussy so good, you won’t know any other cock but the fake one in my side table. You hear me?”
Your stomach is in knots, but you know that this is what you really want. “Okay, Ellie. Please do whatever you think I will like.”
“You’re gonna like it all, baby girl. And if it gets a bit dodgy, you just let me know and we can stop.”
You shake your head positively as she smiles between your legs. She starts by kissing up your thighs, keeping you completely in a trance. When her mouth finds your slit, she licks a long stripe. She takes her time, working her tongue in between your pussy lips. The wet sound that happens when she shakes her head is pornographic. When she finds your clit, she encases it and starts to suck lightly. You scream out in pleasure, never feeling this sensitive before. It usually took a whole lot of Matt lazily fingering you and fucking you to illicit such a response. Ellie is building up an orgasm within you in record time.
She uses her fingers to open up your pussy a little bit more. You instinctively want to close your legs, but her left arm has your legs locked on her bed. Her middle and index fingers curl inside you with every motion forward.
Her eyes are closed and you are laser-focused on her expressions. She’s putting her all into making you feel good and it’s relieving to watch someone put so much care into it.
You notice the small little freckles that scatter across her nose get lighter as they reach her cheekbones. She’s so fucking pretty.
“Jesus, you’re doin’ so good sweetheart. You feel so good.”
“Oh my god, Ellie, please don’t stop,” Your voice is strained, begging her to continue fucking you. She chuckles and begins to pick up speed. Your mind is cluttered, unsure how you can feel this good.
When the peripherals of your vision begin to get white, you know it’s over. She latches her lips back onto your clit, humming to drag the orgasm out of you. When it happens, your deep guttural moans get muffled by her palm.
You think your heart is going to stop beating.
Once you begin to feel your muscles relax, Ellie is crawling on top of you, hovering over your chest, her lips kissing your collarbones.
“You did such a great job, baby girl,” She dotes, her short hair falling across her forehead, “You’re so fuckin’ sexy.”
Your heart swells up a thousand sizes. You never got called that before, let alone felt sexy. But Ellie had this aura to her. She made you feel sexy, desirable, wanted.
Your hand reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ear, “Please show me more.”
She nods, before she leans back on her knees. She balances on one leg before shoving her pajama shorts down. The ink travels to every part of her body and you wonder if the ones around her hips hurt. The snakes that travel up her thighs, have their heads resting right on her hip bones.
You sit up and observe her movements, she’s fumbling with something in her drawer. She seemingly cannot find what she’s looking for and slams it shut.
“How about this,” She says with a huff, “I want you to see what it feels like to grind that pretty little pussy on mine anyway. The strap will have to wait.”
You feel the blood drain from your face, “The strap?”
She giggles at your not-so-faux innocence. “We will try that next time.”
You aren’t ready for her to grab onto your legs and move you like a rag doll around her bed. She rests her body horizontally from yours, her lower half lining up with yours. You were not sure how this worked, but you had heard of scissoring before. The technicality was lost on you.
You sit up waiting for instruction, but Ellie is so hypnotized by your wet slit, she doesn’t even look at you. You watch her reach out and touch your dripping center and it sends an electric shock down your limbs. You throw your head back, hissing at the action.
“God, that cunt is so pretty.”
You finally look back at her, wanting nothing more but to fuck her like she fucked you. So in return for her toying with you, you hastily reach out and touch her pussy. You are confused by what to do, but by her reaction, you know you did something right.
“Tell me what we are doing,” You beg, closing your legs in closer to hers. She nods, watching your fingers pull apart her pussy lips.
“Pull your cunt against mine and ride me like you’d ride Matt’s dick.”
You halt your movements, “Ride him?”
“You’ve never ridden him before?”
Your response was your silence. You had never explored much with him, simply because he was quick to get his nut before traversing to other territories.
She helps you sit up, hover your cunt over hers. You can not lie, the sight of her sticky wet pussy was hot. She guides you down so your mound is on hers. She bites her lip as you practically drool watching your purely untouched body against her painted figure.
“Now move your hips back,” Her hands are gripping onto your hips, showing you the way, “And forth.”
The friction is immediately overstimulating, but it feels like an itch you’ve never scratched. So fucking delicious.
“Shit…” You groan at the response your body is giving you.
“Practice makes perfect, baby. Keep moving those hips.”
You have never been on top, but it’s almost freeing to be in control of the movements. You weren’t sure what you should grip onto as you rubbed your pussy against hers, so you grip onto your own shoulders. Your hips gyrate, the slickness between your legs starts trailing down to Ellie’s navy blue sheets.
“God, this pussy is so fucking perfect,” Ellie says through gritted teeth. She holds down your hips, somehow trying to get you closer to her.
“It’s yours.” You whine, letting the lust take over your speech. You had no clue what that meant for this situation, you just knew that Ellie knew how to fuck you and it was bliss. Your hands leave your shoulders and eventually find Ellie’s tits.
“This pussy is mine? The first cunt you fuck is the cunt you fuck forever?”
You want to laugh, but the bubble in your stomach is about to burst already with how fucked out of your mind you are. “If the cunt is yours, then yes. I want this forever.”
Ellie sucks on her two fingers before she reaches down, finding the very top of your cunt, and begins to press down on that sensitive little bud. The saliva only mixes with the messiness of your liquids. You squeeze her nipples in response.
“Never going back to my stupid fuckin’ brother, hm? This pussy belongs to me.”
“Yes, Ellie, fuck!”
She smiles at your quickening pace. She knows you’re reaching your breaking point, and she knows that she’s close herself.
“Come for me, baby. Come all over my fuckin’ cunt.”
You jolt forward, your hips stilling over hers. You don’t know if you’ve felt a sensation quite like it. You had tears pricking the corners of your eyes as your body felt like a volcano erupting. The curses leaving Ellie’s lips as she came from your orgasm only added to the high you felt. You knew words were leaving your mouth, but they were just jumbled together strings of sentences.
“Jesus Christ…”
“It feels so good…”
“I want this pussy forever…”
You fall over next to Ellie, your legs still intertwined with hers. She was trying to catch her breath, her body still jittery from her high.
“That was per-”
“Babe!!”
Your stomach drops to your ass when you hear Matt’s voice.
You jump up from Ellie’s bed, finding the closest clothes you can grab at. Ellie does the same, but takes her time throwing a tank top over her bed head. His footsteps are practically running up the steps.
You are still wobbly on your legs, practically falling over trying to put on the pants she loaned you. You just keep saying “fuck” over and over again, knowing that you two will probably be caught. You just finished putting on a shirt when he barges into the room.
He’s drunk.
“What are you still doing in here?” He asks you in an accusatory slurred voice. Collin is close behind him, trying to shush him.
“Chill, dude. I was just showin’ her some of my art.” Ellie defends, plopping down on her bed. She’s trying to mask the fact that her bed is wet with your cum.
While he blabs about how Ellie sucks at art, which he is very wrong about, you notice a red blotch on his shirt collar. You zero in on it because you fucking knew.
“Matt, what’s on your neck?” You interrupt.
He stops his rant to look down at you. His eyes are bloodshot. He’s so gone that his mind can’t make up an excuse.
“It’s from Sophie,” He blurts out, his lips getting ahead of his brain. Ellie pauses and the entire room goes dead silent. You had no idea what to say back to that. You had no clue who Sophie was. You honestly did not care, your relationship was already done in your head. You were just kind of shell-shocked that it happened exactly how your mind doctored it.
You glance over at Ellie who is already looking at you. Collin clears his throat.
“I think this a conversation for the morning,” Collin says, grabbing Matt’s arm to tug him out of the room.
You nod, “Yeah, Collin, great idea. Why don’t you take Matt to bed? Tuck him in and give him a sweet kiss like Sophie did.”
Matt’s face turns bright red, the same thing it always did when he got mad at you. Before he could lash out at you, Collin drags him out of the room and into the hall. Before shutting the door behind him, he says, “I’m sorry.”
You furrow your eyebrows, “It’s fine. It’s not the first time. But it will be the last.”
When the door clicks shut, you hear Matt whisper yelling at Collin about how big of a bitch you are. How you didn’t deserve him. Yadda-yadda-yadda.
Ellie just gawks at you. The tone of the room changed so drastically so quickly that you felt almost disconnected from reality.
“You okay?” She asks innocently, her hand holding onto your shoulder.
Your legs are still weak. “Yeah, I think I’ll need more practice though.”
She is confused, you can tell by the look on her face. “Huh?”
“I’ll need more practice riding you. And, hey, you didn’t get to use that fake dick on me, remember?”
-
taglist (for those who said they wanted this haha)
@cavillscurls @satellitespinner @mourningdovee @hockeyhughes @stonerzdaze420692 @00ops1e @sunflowerwinds @holilogram @whoucallingalesbian @aurelialuna
#writing this took so long cause I hate everything I write sometimes#thanks for you patience#anon request#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x female reader#ellie tlou#the last of us#the last of us 2#tlou#tlou part 2#ellie williams au#gracieheartspedro
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"Come and see me for once"
Situationship!Simon and how you had a one night stand with him that turned into a friends with benefits thing. It started off nice, clean, uncomplicated. He was in town long enough for you to see him often, which was great because the sex was phenomenal. Then he gets deployed.
Gone for months. Not a word from him. He could've at least cut things off. Whatever. You get a text one afternoon,
"here"
Head to his place. Catch up by getting railed on every flat surface in his apartment. You don't really mind him disappearing every now and then if that means you'll keep getting fucked like this. Kind of wish he told you when he was gonna fuck off again though.
It's like this for a year or two. The same thing over and over again. He'll text you whenever he gets back. A couple weeks of good sex. Then it's radio silence. Eventually, you find another guy to fill in the gaps between his absences.
The next time he's gone for a little longer than usual. You think about him, wonder if you're ever gonna hear from him again.
"come over"
It's 3 in the morning. You're still in the other guy's bed. You text him letting him know.
"i know"
Reading that made your throat dry up a little. What the fuck did he mean "i know" ??? Maybe he was just fucking with you. Whatever. You're at his place and he fucks you a little rougher than usual. You're so busy getting fucked by Simon for the next month, you barely see the other guy. Other guy just thinks that you're caught up with work or something. And just like that, he's gone again.
Other guy sex is good enough to keep him around. Pleasant conversation. You even watch movies with him sometimes. You spend more time with him, he even lets you sleep over. But whenever the wind blows Simon in, you're there.
"where are you"
Don't know why Simon bothers to ask, he knows where you're headed. He starts trying to keep you at his place longer, makes you call out from work sometimes. How hard is it to let you know when he's coming home? So you can take a couple sick days at least. He doesn't seem to care. Poof, gone again.
Other guy can't hold a candle to Simon, as lovely as he tries to be. Maybe you just like assholes. Simon knows he's better, cocky jackass. Still, makes him a little jealous when he thinks of the two of you. Other guy is some computer tech, conveniently lives a block away from you, closer to your age. Simon doesn't even know why he looked him up. Maybe stroke his ego? Maybe something else.
When he's on missions, the few times he does pleasure himself; he thinks of you. Used to think of anyone he fucked before. Not lately though. Thinks about how delicious you smell; skin, hair, cunt. Makes him finish faster.
"sending the car"
You don't even ask why he knows where you are. Jackhammers you into the mattress until your makeup leaves an impression of your face on his sheets. He grabs you water as you catch your breath. Ask why he never comes over to your flat.
"Don't like my place anymore?"
He dodges the question. He knows the answer. He'd obsess. Probably nick one of your thongs so he can wrap it around his cock while he fucks his fist. Find out what perfume you use so he can take a sample with him on missions. He'd never want to leave. You say something about him licking every inch of your body, but not knowing what the inside of your place looks like.
But he does.
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.・゜゜・・゜゜・..・゜゜・★
cw: little plot, roommates/fwb to lovers (ig?), strength kink, oral (fem receiving), slightly toxic (?), jealousy, very possessive jeno, overstimulation
18+ minors do not interact !
"stop fucking moving,"
you gasp out when jeno lands a slap on your clit, unable to help but jolt at the wave of pain and pleasure that shoots through your nerves. your eyes are dazed, but you can still make out his figure between your legs. he readjusts, using his big palms to keep your thighs far apart.
"i-i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you whimper weakly. he doesn't pay any mind to your apology, though, attaching his mouth to your dripping cunt once again.
by now, you knew jeno well enough to know exactly what pushed his buttons. it's exhilarating to test his limits, because more often than not, you'd end up with a few mind-blowing orgasms as your so-called 'punishment' at the end of the night.
so earlier, when your mutual friend jaemin came over, you thought it would be ingenious to settle down on the couch beside him and swing your legs over his lap.
that was your first mistake.
"sit there and take it," jeno growls, "and stay fucking still unless you want me to edge you all night,"
you knew your little plan would bother jeno, and it very much did. it was painfully obvious on his features, from the moment you hiked up your smooth legs and laid them over jaemin's thighs.
jeno's glare was unyielding, and he had his jaw clenched so tight, you worried his teeth might crack.
purely oblivious to your antics and jeno’s sudden sour mood, jaemin didn't think twice about resting his hands on your bare skin—it was an innocent gesture, really. the problem was, when he told a joke that made you laugh, you laughed a little too hard, taking his hand into your own and sliding it up your thigh.
it was bad enough that your cotton shorts were absolutely tiny, but it was worse that they were now tucked high between your legs. by the time you settled jaemin's hand where you wanted it to be, he was no less than a few inches from your core.
that was mistake number two.
"jeno. holy shit, please,"
"you wanna tease me, huh? wanna get me jealous? you like that shit," it doesn't matter that he's mumbling into your folds and his speech is slightly slurred, you catch onto his every word.
he laps you up again and again, alternating between laying his tongue flat on your clit and wrapping his lips around it to suck on it. his hands have slid up your waist, but his elbows keep your legs pinned open.
you're, quite literally, on fire. the wet, slurping sounds of him making out with your pussy are so loud that they're deafening. every groan and growl he grants shoots vibrations through you, and there doesn't seem to be enough oxygen in the room with the way you're rigidly panting.
if he didn't let you come soon, you're pretty sure you'd pass out.
"do you want anything to drink, jae?"
jeno scoffs. since when the fuck did you call jaemin 'jae?'
"some water would be nice, thanks," the boy flashed his smile at you and you stood up, ass practically hanging out of your shorts and right in his face. you couldn't see with your back turned, but jeno caught the way his friend's eyes darted to your pretty, plump cheeks, adam's apple bobbing as he gulped.
you returned with his glass, but just before you handed it to him, you pretended to stumble, and some of the water landed right over his crotch.
was it extremely cliche? sure, but it certainly did the trick.
when you came back with a kitchen towel chanting fake apologies and just about straddled one of his legs, jeno had pretty much had enough.
but then, as if that wasn't nearly enough, you went on to wipe away at jaemin's jeans (right over his slightly swelling bulge) wearing the most infuriatingly innocent look on your face.
"i'm so sorry!"
"it's okay, really," jaemin insisted, subconsciously spreading his knees farther apart so you could continue to dry him off.
"it's really not! jeno," you called, turning and batting your eyes, "can't you lend him one of your pairs?"
the moment your gaze landed on him, you knew you were fucked.
he narrowed his eyes on you, shooting daggers your way. after letting some air out through his nose, he seethed through his tightened teeth a small "sure."
and that? that was mistake number three.
"jeno, baby, i'm so close,"
"no," he warns, "don't you dare fucking come."
"i can't help it, i'm gonna-"
he stops at once, pulling the rug clean from under you and smirking at the way you whine out, body seizing up as your orgasm is stripped away. he watches as your hole pulses incessantly with need, grinding himself into the mattress.
you cry out, "i said i was sorry," but he only tuts, shaking his head.
"you made your bed, now lie in it."
"please," you're breathless and desperate for some sort of release. so much so, that you resort to shamelessly bargaining, "i'll give you head everyday for the next week,"
"not good enough. I can fuck your mouth whenever I want,"
"jeno! i'll- fuck, i don't know," you look around as you rack through your brain, but he doesn't let you finish your thought.
"say you're mine."
"but,” you pause, eyes widening, “i-i'm not,"
jeno sticks his middle finger knuckle deep into you, stilling it there within your tight, fluttering walls, "so then, tell me. you want jaemin's mouth on you instead of mine?"
"no," you answer quickly, honestly.
he pumps into you once, then twice, slowly coaxing the confession out of you, "then say it, baby. say you're mine, that i'm the only one who makes you feel this good,"
"i'm not yours, jeno. we-we've been over this,"
"i guess you don't wanna come then, do you?" he withdraws his digit and sits up on his knees, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, "i don't know why you have to be so fucking stubborn all the time,"
you watch as he pulls his length out of his boxers, mouth working to gather saliva to the front of his mouth. he spits, letting it fall onto his swollen, pink tip. it's hard to hide the way you're basically squirming in anticipation, hips practically bucking up and closer to him.
"i'm sorry," you try again, voice sweet and airy. but again, he doesn't answer. he simply lines himself up with your hole and pushes in with a hiss, training his eyes on you to watch the way your jaw goes slack.
"you're a brat," he scolds, "and a tease," his hands press down on your tummy, resting his weight there. when he bottoms out, you grip his wrists, looking down to watch the way he sits on his heels with his dick buried in you.
"i'm sorr-“
"stop fucking saying that," he thrusts into you and you moan out, "you know what i wanna hear," his gradually increasing pace makes you shudder, and your orgasm starts building within you once again, "i'm gonna fuck you so good, you'll never even think about jaemin again,"
jeno rams his hips into you and the sound of your skin slapping against his echoes around your bedroom. you try to cover up how close you're getting, hoping that maybe, just maybe, he won't notice until it's too late.
the only problem is: jeno knows you just as well as you know him, and even more so, he knows your body. he prides himself in that—in catching every little involuntary sign and habit you have.
he knows the way your toes curl when he hits the right spot, deep within your gummy walls, and he knows the way your eyes gloss over to spill hot tears when he chokes you.
your face might be able to conceal your true intentions, but your pussy, gushing and squeezing around him, can not.
“if i feel you come around me, so help me god, i’m gonna stop,”
there isn’t the slightest hint of a bluff behind his sharp tone, and it pisses you off. your cheeks are red hot with frustration, nails digging into his skin, which only makes him squeeze your waist harder. the pleasure is dizzying, his thick length dragging up and down your walls in the most delectable way.
you aren’t gonna last much longer, you know that. he knows that.
“please, jeno. please please please,”
“i’ll let you come, baby. there’s nothing i want more than for you to come on my cock, but i need you to tell me,”
sneakily, you trail your hand between your legs to stimulate your clit, but he’s quick to grasp both of your wrists before you can even savor the feeling, pinning your arms on your chest between your bouncing breasts.
you’re a mere second away from whining out in protest when his own free hand flies to rub circles on your puffy clit, and suddenly, the feeling is far too overwhelming.
forced to blink harshly a few times to regain focus, you look at his features and come to the conclusion that truthfully, jaemin, and no one else for that matter, could ever make you feel like this.
you didn’t want anyone else anyway. your little act was just a ploy to get you to this very point, stuck underneath jeno who manages to make you come so hard each and every time he’s inside you that you wind up seeing stars.
as the cord threatens to snap in your belly, every ounce of you longing for release, you moan out loudly, giving in, “i’m yours! i don’t want anyone else, i promise,”
“yeah?”
“yes,” you insist, “yes, baby. fuck, m’all yours, always yours,”
he leans down to press a kiss to your lips, and suddenly, all the anger he had been airing out fades for a moment. he doesn’t shove his tongue down your throat (although you wouldn’t have minded much), and he doesn’t move his lips in any kind of rush; instead, they move against yours softly, almost feather-like, as if your confession would float away from any suddenness.
and finally, against your lips, he mumbles, “go ahead and come, sweet girl. i’ve got you.”
instantly, your nerves ignite and your breath hitches, your orgasm washing over you at last.
he isn’t far behind, not at all. he had been sensitive ever since he’d started humping the bed with his head stuck between your legs.
he finishes with you, in you, shooting streams of hot white cum inside your clenched walls. the grip he holds on your hand releases as a grunt rumbles in his throat, and you instinctively wrap your arms around him, letting him bury his face into your neck.
when he stills his movements, he lays his weight on top of you, warm, slick skin pressing right up against you, chest to chest.
after a few moments of silence, other than the settling heavy breaths from both of you, you rake your fingers through his hair, muttering timidly by his ear.
“i mean it. i’m yours. i only did all that earlier for—well, for this.”
“all mine?”
you nod, giving him reassurance when he lifts his head to read the expression on your face, “mhm.”
“good. i’m all yours, too.”
#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct fanfic#nct reactions#nct#nct moodboard#nct 127#nct dream#nct smut#nct dream smut#nct dream reactions#nct dream imagines#nct dream x reader#jeno fanfic#lee jeno#nct jeno#jeno imagines#jeno smut#nct scenarios#nct u#nct 2023#jeno fluff#jeno scenarios#jeno#jeno x reader#nct drabbles#nct dream fake texts#jaemin imagines#jaemin smut
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LET'S PLAY
pairing: ghostface!Abby x reader x ghostface!Ellie
synopsis: you've always been afraid of scary movies, but when abby recreates one of her favorites with some help from her best friend... lets just say you face your fears.
warnings: fear kink (?), threesome, pussy eating, strap usage, gendered pet names, double penetration + anal [r! receiving], face riding [e! + r! receiving], scissoring [a + e], very brief gendered talk ("but my sweet girl can take it, can't she?"), unrealistic squirting
wc: 2k
a/n: hi guys! to be fully transparent with you guys, I've been extremely busy over the last couple of weeks and have no chance to write. on top of that I'm extremely under the weather right now, so this is the only Halloween shot I have written. 😭😭 I'm really sorry that it worked out this way, maybe I can finish and post the others later on!
it was halloween. finally halloween. and the conditions were perfect. the dark night sky was filled with grey clouds that stuck out from the moonlight, fog had been gathering all day, so that once trick or treating started for the little kids and partying started for the older kids, it was just right. you had different plans on your mind, though. tonight it would be just you and Abby, with movies, popcorn, and definitely some costumes.
in all honesty, halloween scared you in the slightest. the movies that Abby often wanted to watch were gruesome, and you wound up with your hands over your eyes, merely listening to the shrieks and stabbings. abby loved it, though, so you found it in your heart to get over it.
that fear, however, resurrected itself when the clock passed eleven, knowing she was supposed to be home at nine-thirty. you had texted her a number of times at this point, even called her, with no response. it was more than strange; in all the years you and abby had been together, she had never, ever missed a halloween.
at a certain point you sighed and got off the couch, accepting that she apparently just wasn't coming home. you went down to your room, changing and laying down to sleep. you tossed and turned, not used to a bed without her body in it. after a while, you laid on your back with a huff, grabbing your phone to text her again.
before you could press send, you heard an aggressive jingle of the lock on the front door. it didn't stop, and you were slammed with the feeling that someone was trying to to get in. someone was trying to to get in. a bat hid behind your door, and you ran over to grab it before leaving your bedroom. you looked over your shoulder, into every room, but you didn't see anything. the kitchen was dark once you walked into it, and as you went to flick the lights on, you felt a strong hand on your hip that pulled you back, covering your mouth with their other hand.
the bat was ripped from your hands by a second person, and you screamed, but the hand covering your mouth was gloved and masked the sound. you could feel the captors heart beating and their chest rise and fall.
“sorry I'm late,”
it was abby. abby who followed you through your house and abby whose hand was over your mouth. the lights flicked on and you were faced with a different person, dressed in a ghost face mask and it's matching rags. you pushed out of abby's grip and turned to face her, realizing that she also had a mask on.
“what the fuck abby?” you quietly shrieked. “what was that? you scared me.” the light caught the knife in her hand, and suddenly a pit developed in your stomach. it was fear, flat, undoubtable, fear. “why do you have a knife?” she walked towards you slowly until your back was against the wall.
“don't worry baby, we're just gonna play,” her large body encased you. “you remember ellie, don't you sweet girl?” you nodded slowly, tears welling up in your tear ducts. “my poor baby, don't cry, we're gonna be real nice to you.” when she said that, you finally came to the realization as to what was happening. this is why abby loves the scary movies. she likes the control; the fear. you relaxed. “do you trust me, pretty girl?” you looked at her through the mask and nodded slowly. “do you trust me to not hurt you?” you nodded again.
“let's play then, baby.”
that's how you ended up here, on your back, with ellie on your face and abby between your legs. ellie had a hand in your hair, forcing you to look up at her while you ate her out. she was grinding down on your tongue, chanting your name as she chest rose and fell quickly. she had definitely already come, but she was using you to get off.
abby, however, had a strap buried deep in your cunt. you two hadn't used a strap before, you didn't even know where she got it, all you knew and could think about was how much she was filling you. the mask was still covering her face, but you almost got off to it. she had your legs pushed up to your chest, drilling her hips into your ass over and over, going even after your orgasm had lit up your body.
finally she let up, but you knew you weren’t even close to done. ellie got off your face and they both looked at each other, as if they were coming to a conclusion by just looking at each other, then they both looked over at you. abby discarded her mask and tossed it into the pile of clothes, loosening the harness from her hips and throwing it along with everything else. “get up,” ellie said, replacing you as you stood up. “sit on my face, sweets. face abby like the pretty thing you are.” the position was weird, but somehow it worked. you were backwards on ellie’s face, but her skilled tongue still managed to find everything you needed just right.
abby lifted ellie’s leg up, shifting herself between her lifted leg and her dripping center, rolling her hips down until they were both moaning. with the hand that wasn’t keeping ellie’s leg steady, abby grabbed you by the throat and brought your lips to hers, moaning into your mouth as your tongues met. ellie was so good at eating pussy, you almost didn’t want to pick between her and abby. maybe tonight meant that you could have both of them whenever you wanted.
ellie fucked you with her tongue while her thumb found your clit, spreading your wetness and her saliva over it and rubbing in rhythmic, slow circles. you were all but pushing all your weight onto abby, who was still riding ellie’s pussy. now, though, her head was back, neck exposed. you regained your headspace slightly, just enough to run your lips along her neck and suck. your lips traveled to her tits, marking her in a way you hadn’t before.
you stopped as soon as you felt your orgasm building quickly, instead opting for your previous option of grabbing her for support. it seemed as if you both were in the same boat, because her face scrunched up in focus, like it did every time she came. your head was on her shoulder as you came, whimpering at just how good it felt. ellie didn’t let a drop miss her tongue.
abby stood up, and you zoned in on how both of their pussies were covered in each other’s cum. your pupils were wide, your mouth was basically hanging open with drool. abby looked at you and chuckled. “wanna clean me up, sweetheart?” you got up from the bed and kneeled in front of her, assuming that’s what she wanted you to do, and waited for her to spread her legs. she leaned against the wall and propped her leg up on your shoulder, letting you lap at her until everything was gone. it tasted so good, so much like abby with a hint of ellie. it was the perfect blend.
though you wanted to lick up ellie too, she had already cleaned off with a bed sheet. “I have one more thing to try, if you’re up for it, baby.” you nodded profusely, and both girls looked at each other with a smirk. “get on the edge of the bed in doggy.” you did as told, putting your knees on the edge of the bed and arching your back so that your face was in the comforter. “good girl,” abby cooed, reaching down to pick up her harness and clip it on again. ellie also pulled one out from the jumble of clothes, and you wondered where hers was going to go. in the bedside drawer, abby pulled out a small bottle of lube, which she must have snuck in at some point earlier in the day to prepare.
earlier, when all of this started, you didn’t need lube, so you couldn’t understand what that was for. until both girls walked behind you. you felt the tip of one of their straps rubbing against your ass and you leaped forward, ill prepared. “this is gonna be a big stretch, baby, but my sweet girl can take it, can’t she?” you hummed at abby’s words, sucking in a harsh breath as her strap entered a new place. it was certainly different, but it felt so good. it was just the stretch you wanted, and it got even better when you felt ellie running the tip of her strap up and down your folds.
when ellie pushed her strap into you along with abby’s, the earth froze. “fuck, babe, look at your slut,” from what you could see, they were both admiring the way your stretched for them. You weren’t going to deny that it hurt a little, but with the way they were looking at you and the way ellie kept hitting exactly where you needed to plus the stretch of both of them, it made up for the slight discomfort.
once they gained a rhythm, you had them railing you at the same time, strokes hard and fast, with ellie’s large, skinny hands wrapped around your waist to keep you up. your hands grasped the bedsheets tightly, listening to your body as you neared closer and closer to finishing. there was another feeling building, one you hadn’t felt before, but you made an effort to ignore it. The closer you got, the noisier you became, moaning and grunting with every thrust until you were twitching on the edge of release.
the weird feeling that you were ignoring came back hard and fast, sitting somewhere strange in your bladder. it was like the urge to pee, but with some form of pleasure to it. they pulled it out of you with their harshness, making you squirt hard as you finished. you rolled your hips back at how strong your orgasm was, tears running down your face and creating a pool on the comforter.
you felt strangely empty as they both pulled out, unclipping both of their harnesses yet again and tossing them. “you did such a good job angel. let’s get cleaned up.” you all showered together, then abby surprised you with matching pajamas. ellie was packing up her stuff and you frowned.
“stay,” you said, and she looked up at you and smiled. “we can watch a movie. you can leave in the morning. don’t drive home in the dark.” she sat her backpack down and climbed into bed with the both of you. abby rolled over to grab the remote and turned on scream, just for the irony.
taglist: @inukastan1 @elliecoochieeater @pepperflakess @hastasupern0va @jazzys19 @purring4elliewilliams @decaffeinatedclodbagelweasel @lonelyfooryouonly @heyimrye (if your not tagged it said your account did not exist, I apologize)
#abby anderson#tlou2#abby anderson smut#tlou#abby smut#abby anderson x reader#abby tlou#ellie x abby#abby headcanons#abby fanfiction#abby the last of us#abby x reader#ellie smut#ellie x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie the last of us#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie x fem reader
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hey baby! happy christmas eve <3 i was wondering if we could get more shy!reader x spence, i know the people love bombshell (and i love her too!) but shy reader has such a special place in my heart :)
ty for requesting!! ♡ fem
The universe puts Spencer Reid so close to you and so often as a punishment for something. You thought you were getting a great gig, selected for the BAU younger than most, surrounded by the top agents in the field, top agents willing to forgive your inexperience just as long as you don't impede the flow.
Well, you're impeding things. Badly.
“What are you doing?” Emily asks. “You're not listening to a word I'm saying. I need your help on this.”
Her tone is kinder than her unimpressed stare. “Right. Right, sorry, I'm distracted.”
“You think?” She frowns. “What's with you?”
Spencer crouches just outside of your eyeline by the door. The police precinct the BAU dominates today is small and underfunded, leaving Spencer to map his geographical profile on the floor. This is fine, but the precinct is in Texas, where the weather is sweltering, and the way to survive is to strip. He wears a simple blue-white button up without a tie, his sleeves bunched above his elbows, and his hair clings to the damp back of his neck.
“Nothing. Sorry.”
Emily hums unhappily. You can't blame her for not believing you.
You throw yourself back into your work, bouncing theories and details off of each other with Spencer's ear skewed your way. It's harder to talk while he's listening. Worse when Morgan arrives with lunch and insists that Spencer sit beside you so he can hog the vent above.
“Did they have your diet coke?” Spencer asks.
You gesture to your cup clumsily. Spencer opens the bag on the table to pull out your polystyrene boxes. He knows without asking what food you've ordered and places it neatly in front of you, passing you a plastic knife and fork before he so much as glances at his own meal. He's sickeningly thoughtful.
“You okay?” he asks. “You're being really quiet today. Quieter than usual.”
“I'm fine.”
“Yeah? You sure?”
You nod with a tight smile. You're worried if he keeps looking at you that you might burst into flames.
Spencer puts his hand on your arm and squeezes. The warmth of his palm pressed to the flank of your arm, the gentle pressure, the pat before he pulls back. Your brain melts in your skull and the rest of the team arrive just in time to watch.
“You look like you've seen a ghost,” JJ says, dropping her jacket on the table. Hotch gives you a concerned squint.
“I'm fine.”
“She keeps saying she's fine,” Spencer says, hand on your shoulder now, the lightest of touches.
“But you're not really fine,” Rossi says, sitting across from you with a knowing look. He always looks like he knows everything. "What's wrong, bella?"
“I'm fine, I'm–” Spencer's touch becomes more insistent on yout shoulder, heat rushes to your face and chest, and suddenly you've lost sight of what you're doing, where your hands are, and you've knocked your soda over in a rush of ice.
Spencer grabs it before it can tip entirely. Emily throws napkins at the mess. Your hands come up to your face suddenly, embarrassed, but the team laugh and hum their sympathies.
“I got it,” Emily says.
“Maybe you should try drinking some of that,” Morgan teases.
“I'm really sorry, I don't know what's wrong with me today.”
“Well, don't get stressed about it. Just take a minute,” Hotch says. “Is that mine?”
Spencer closes in, hand flat on your shoulder, inching down to the small of your back. He stops somewhere on your spine, his every touch like a bruise. He can't not know how nerve wracking it is to be near him, but of course he doesn't. He wouldn't put you through this if he did.
“Your food's gonna get cold,” he says.
You rub your eyes and promptly put your hands in your lap. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I just had a hot flush, I think.”
“Loverboy's not getting to you, is he? Just ignore him,” Morgan says.
“I'd prefer if you didn't ignore me,” Spencer says quietly, charmingly.
“Reid, eat.” Hotch meets your eyes. In a room of profilers, he's the best. He's the shark. He probably knew how Reid made you feel before you did, and he's the boss, so he redirects his attention. “Y/N, you're alright?” You nod. “Then let's eat and talk about what we know so far.”
You give up half way through your meal when Spencer's knee rests against yours and you can physically feel your heart at the contiguity.
“Are you sure you're okay?” he asks you softly.
His deodorant smells like mint. “I promise, I'm fine. I think it's just too hot.”
He makes you a fan with a menu from the takeout and fans you with it. It works at first, but his smile prolongs your agony and it eventually prompts an adverse effect.
Hotch has to send Spencer out to canvas with Rossi to get you to function again.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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On Your Knees
ONE | TWO
incel!Seungmin x fem!reader
warnings! MDNI18+, drinking implications (no one is drunk) dubious??, pussy eating, face fucking (m!), hate sex (but no sex) seungmin is an ass (low key misogynistic), reader is kinda mean note! this is not meant to represent Seungmin or any of the members in any way. I just like the trope :)
2.7k words
The party was getting boring in all honesty. Truth-or-Dare is only fun for the first couple of minutes but gets repetitive. Same old questions on who you're fucking, if you're fucking someone, if you've ever fucked someone. The flat beer sloshes in your red solo cup as you sit on the floor of the living room.
You can tell Han is trying to come up with something interesting to ask Seungmin. Most of the somewhat funny questions were already asked, but Han still purses his lips as he thinks of something clever.
"Okay, I got it!" He claps his hands. "Best pussy you've ever eaten. Go."
Ah, I guess that's something, you think as you divert your attention to the cross-legged man beside you.
Seungmin is awfully quiet at house parties and looks as though he would rather be anywhere else. You don't like Seungmin, but you don't not like him. He's just a guy Han likes to bring around on occasion. You observe Seungmin raise an eyebrow, in surprise most likely. But what he says is even more shocking.
"Never eaten pussy."
"What?!" Everyone collectively shouts at his admission. Now this peaks your interest as you stare wide-eyed at him. "No way," you can't fathom the thought of someone in college never tasting a cunt. "Are you a virgin?"
Your bold question makes Chan choke on his drink, coughing until the bitter liquid finally passes through. "Jeez dude, you just can't ask that."
"It's literally Truth-or-Dare. I literally can," you retort.
The clamor of everyone settles as they wait for Seungmin to answer. Now that he can feel the pressure of everyone's eyes, he shifts in his seat uncomfortably. "I'm not a virgin," he says. "I just don't eat pussy."
"What the fuck?" You make a confused expression. "You don't eat pussy? Fuck does that mean?" Seungmin finally casts his gaze on you, acknowledging your presence for the first time tonight. "Exactly what I mean. I don't like it."
"You don't like it?" Han sounds exasperated. "You gotta be fucking with me. There's no way you fuck a girl and not want to eat her pussy." Despite Han being an idiot half the time, you agree with him. Every guy you've hooked up with jumps at the chance to eat you out and you know plenty of them would do it for nothing in exchange.
To meet a guy who's never had the opportunity to only means two things, and you're praying it's not what you're thinking.
"I just fuck to cum. I don't really care if she finishes or not."
It's worse than you could have imagined.
The room goes dead quiet and you suddenly figure out why Han doesn't bring Seungmin around too often. His stiff posture, his blank expression, the way he hardly regards you in any manner. It all points to signs of the worst type of man.
"So like what?" You can't help the clipped tone in your voice. "You some type of incel?"
Chan, who likes to keep the peace, says your name in warning. "Don't start." Though he means well, the fact that you're the one getting in trouble for speaking up only fuels your fire. "Don't start? He's the one who started with his dumb incel shit."
Seungmin scowls, "Ugh. I didn't even say anything bad. You're being so emotional."
The tips of your ears burn red and you feel your entire body heat up. You can hear Chan trying to diffuse the situation, but you hardly care about maintaining 'the peace' any longer.
"Oh, fuck off," you sneer at Seungmin. "You can't even make a girl finish. Fucking incel virgin."
Now that does it for him. You see Seungmin tighten his hands into fists as his neck grows red. "I'm not a virgin. And I can make a girl cum. I just don't care to." He enunciates his words harshly, some speckles of spit landing on your face. Both of your jaws are tense, teeth clenching as you glare into each other's eyes.
A vein sticks from his neck and his lips are stretched back into somewhat of a snarl. With a flushed expression, you easily see his cheeks heat up in anger. It's here that you realize he looks good when he's mad. You hate it.
"Okaayyy!" Chan claps his hands three times loudly. "I think it's time to call it a night." Everyone tries to stand and talk about anything else, but Seungmin and you are too busy having your own little conversation to notice.
"Never eaten pussy, can't make a girl come. Why you lying about being a virgin?" You mimic the vicious on Seungmin's face. He keeps his eyes steady on yours, "Whoring yourself out for a fuck. You're everything that's wrong with women today."
This makes you laugh, "At least they make me cum."
If you thought Seungmin was mad before, he's furious now. You must have struck a nerve because he stands suddenly and spins on his heel to leave.
But you're not done with the conversation. You raise on your feet and follow him, never ceasing to stop your vicious spewing, "Just be honest with me, Min. It's okay to have never felt a woman's touch. Not that you ever will, being an incel that is."
Seungmin hurries up the stairs of the house with you on his tail. You can't see his face, but you can feel the anger rolling off him.
He suddenly stops in his tracks, making you effectively bump into his back. "I'm not an incel," he keeps his voice low, but strong. "Eating pussy isn't even all that. You just have an ego bigger than your tits."
You try and play it off with a scoff, but you feel your face heat up. You grope your chest offendedly; you like your boobs. "Not all that? Come here." Pushing on Seungmin's back, you lead him to the nearby bathroom and shove him inside. He stumbles and trips over his feet, shooting a hand out to balance himself on the counter as you close and lock the door behind you.
"Fuck was that for?" He whips his head around to glare at you, but he's surprised to be met with an eerie smile on your face instead. He gulps nervously, "What are you looking at?"
You shrug nonchalantly, "Looking at someone who's going to eat me out." Seungmin looks as though you've slapped him across the face as his eyes widen. "What? Who said I was gonna do that?"
You're already hiking your skirt up to your torso, biting the cloth between your teeth, and showing the pretty little thong you put on in hopes of a hookup. It barely manages to over your clit and you can see the outline of your pussy underneath the material. With one hand, you use the tip of your finger to draw soft circles on it. Seungmin drops his eyes to your clothed core.
His Adam apple bobs.
"Come on," you wiggle your eyebrows playfully. "Get on your knees for me."
For a second, you think he's gonna walk out. He was so persistent about not wanting to eat pussy and his shitty attitude was...well...shitty. You begin to think that there's no hope for Seungmin, but he proves you wrong by bending one knee and looking up at you.
"I'm just going to look," he says more to himself than to you. "Just so you could stop your whining."
His hands grip the plushness of your thighs as he stretches the skin. The lips of your pussy peek out at the movement, but Seungmin is far from disgusted. His ears pick up on the sound your cunt makes when he uses his thumb to pull and push the skin together. Slowly, he moves his hand up to pull your thong down, exposing the very thing he claims to revolt against.
You shiver against his warm breath, his warm touch. You reach your hands down to pull up on the skin of your pelvis to further stretch your pussy. "Getting a good look, Seungmin?" You giggle at the annoyed expression on his face. His lips may be pulled pursed into a frown, but his eyes are wide with lust.
Seungmin is trying his best to hold back, but it's near impossible. Everything about you surrounds him: your smell, your soft skin, the way your voice echoes in the bathroom. He shocks himself with how much he enjoys watching your clit peek from your pussy lips and how the first signs of arousal make your entire cunt shine.
"Shut up," he mumbles.
You're thinking of a witty remark to snap at him, but you're instead pleasantly surprised with his lips ghosting over your core. Your body stills, letting Seungmin explore pussy on his tongue for the first time. He runs his lips over your own, feeling how soft and warm it is. Seungmin already knew how hot a cunt is, but tasting it on his lips is a whole other level of heat.
"Mmm," you hum at the sensation. "What happened to just getting a look?"
Seungmin looks up at you, mouth still attached to your core. His nose bumps on your lower stomach with his hair tousled over his face. Before you can think, you brush the bangs from his face to get a good view of his form. The sight makes you groan, bucking your hips further into his face. Seungmin makes a hmmf! sound as you bury his face deeper into your pussy, but he makes no move to deny you.
It's not until you start rocking your hips that he finally sticks his tongue out. He starts at the peak of your pussy, letting the nub roll over his tongue experimentally. Seungmin notes how your legs shake when he does that. He feels your hips still so he could properly suck on that part of your cunt.
The taste of you settles on Seungmin's tastebuds and he finds his tongue digging deeper into your lips. They dip down to your labia before going back up. He likes how soaked you make his wet tongue, how your hands twist his floppy hair to drive him deeper. He hates how much he likes it.
Truthfully, you're in the same boat. His mouth may not be experienced, but you upsettingly like how he lets you ride his face. "See Sungie?" You say his name mockingly. "Not too bad, is it?"
Seungmin doesn't stay put in your cunt. This time, he pulls away from your throbbing core to talk back. "I never said it was goo- mmf!" As lovely as it would have been to hear his voice, you reason that his words may not have been as nice. You had gripped the back of his head and forced him back to your center, uncaring how he gently slapped the back of your thighs in disapproval.
"Just shut up and stick your tongue out." You're impatient needless to say. Seungmin can tell by how you keep one hand steady on his head while the other gives his cheek light taps. "Open up, come on." You probe the man between your legs until he finally relents, widening his jaw so your entire clit fits in his mouth.
You hum at his mouth taking your core in, "Good boy. See? You were made to eat pussy."
Then you hook one of your thighs over his shoulder and wrap that leg around his body until his face is pushed against you. His eyes widen, screaming at you as if saying this wasn't part of the deal! But the panic only makes you laugh. He can pretend all he wants, but you know the bulge in his pants all too well as you look down on him.
Grinding on his face is easy with you in complete control. You sloppily rub your cunt all over his tongue with his head following your movements. Seungmin groans and grunts in your cunt, but it's far from the disdain he was filled with earlier. His hips thrust into the air at the feel of your essence dripping down his chin.
His jolts make you chuckle breathlessly. "Fuck, just look at you. You wanna cum? You wanna cum, don't you?"
Screw his pride, screw any stupid podcast he's watched, he needs to cum. He wants to feel your pussy clench on his cock, not his tongue. Yet, he can't find it in himself to tear himself away from your clit. If you taste this good already, he can't imagine the savor of you creaming on his tongue.
To not let a second go by without his mouth on you, he nods, looking up at you pleadingly. He's sorry for being a dick, for being an incel. If you let him finish in you, he'll never-
"Sucks to suck," you shatter his dream. "You're gonna make me cum. Don't move."
And he doesn't, but it's not because he means to obey you. You have Seungmin on his knees, mouth enclosing over your pussy while you tug on his hair and hump his face and you're not going to let him finish? At all?
Then there's no point of him being here. Seungmin should tear your grip off him and leave the bathroom, but he can't. Fuck, he can't. It's like you've put a curse on him, glued him to the floor with his jaw unhinged and tongue out as you grind on his face.
It has to be witchcraft because why else would he still be here? Does he really like the taste of you that much? Maybe it's how you look; flushed, sweaty, close to a high Seungmin's never been able to bring a girl to. Seeing you so close to your orgasm makes him eager to stay, eager to please. And god, he loves how your clit twitches in his mouth.
"Shit," you curse. "Gonna cum. Imma cum all over your face. You want that? Want my cream all over your tongue?"
Seungmin would rather die than tell you the truth, so he responds by sucking harshly on your clit. The suction is enough to tip you over the edge, digging your nails into his scalp as you bend the upper half of your body over him.
Your cunt pluses around nothing, but that hardly matters when you hear Seungmin gulping down your release. The very same man who claims to not like eating pussy, to not care if his partner finishes. That man eagerly licking you clean with his eyes rolling behind his head.
You shiver and mewl as you cum, softly grinding your hips to come down from your high. "God- fuck! Put your tongue in my pussy."
He does, finally getting a feel of your walls for the first time. They squeeze and pulse around his tongue and he gives a few testing thrusts that you respond to positively.
Fuck, you taste even better inside.
Seungmin can't stop fucking his tongue deep inside you. Not even as you wrap your leg from him and straighten up. A part of you debates on whether or not to let him keep going. At this rate, he might make you finish a second time, but you don't want to give him the satisfaction of that. Plus, you've been gone long enough for the other men to question your whereabouts.
You place the palm of your hand on his forehead and push him away. The shove makes him detach from your cunt with a lewd pop! as he catches himself backward on his hands.
"Geez. You're gonna lick it off," you pick your underwear up and step through the leg holes, ignoring how uncomfortable it feels on your sensitive cunt. Seungmin seems in a daze as you drop your skirt from your lips and adjust the material. Even as you walk closer to the mirror and touch up your make-up, Seungmin stays in place on the ground.
He liked it. Dear god, he loved it. Even with the tent in his pants, he hardly seems to notice how his cock throbs when he can still taste you on his lips. You only face-fucked him to prove a point, but you changed the trajectory of his life forever.
Yet, you wash your hands and use a hand towel to dry yourself like you didn't just make Seungmin question his entire purpose. You throw the rag to the man on his knees, managing to land it on his lap. "Your face is soaked. Clean it before they see how much of a munch you are, yeah?"
a/n: idk why I was at work was thought "yk what would be hot? making an incel seungmin worship you" and boom, this was birthed. I kinda wanna make a part two I have ideeassss also two fics in one week?? who am I? thank you for reading!
#smut#skz smut#stray kids smut#skz#stray kids#skz seungmin#seungmin x reader#stray kids seungmin#seungmin smut#seungmin#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#sub!skz#sub!stray kids#seungmin skz smut
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{ ☆ time to wake up - h.sh }
pairing: bf! seunghan x clueless! f. reader
contents: more experienced seunghan, less experienced reader, reader is so clueless it hurts, accidental dry humping (?), seunghan is asleep in the beginning, corruption kink if you squint, praise kink, pet names: baby, princess, sweet thing, seunghan guides reader, blowjob, cum eating
a.n: oh i loved writing this yall. word count: 1.3k
you and seunghan often found yourselves drifting off during your evenings together. your boyfriend was no stranger to your bedroom, and tonight felt just like any other. after a cozy dinner, you returned home, settled in for a movie, and curled up on the couch. but while you usually wake up at the same time, tonight was different. as he softly snored beside you, you lay wide awake, restless and bored, the quiet of the room all too noticeable.
you pouted to yourself, wanting nothing more than your boyfriend's attention. you sat next to each other, his arm draped around your frame, while your head lay on his chest. you sit up slightly so your perfectly parallel to the way he’s sitting. he stirs slightly at your movement, and you think to yourself for a moment about how you should go about waking him up. a thought pops up in your mind, but you have a small war in your head on whether you should do it or not. if it wakes him up, it doesn’t hurt to try. you only contemplate for a few more seconds before ultimately deciding to go through with it.
you lift yourself off the couch slightly, letting his arm fall from your figure, before hesitantly climbing on top of him, resting yourself right where the drawstrings of his sweats are. you place your hands flat on his shoulders, squeezing lightly. when he doesn’t budge, you tighten your grip and shake him lightly, causing the couch and yourself to bounce. “seunghan~” you call out, followed by a slightly louder “wake up!” when he still doesn’t, your actions quicken, hearing the couch start creaking beneath you. this time around, it doesn’t take long for his eyes to open, pure shock mixed with something else written all over his features. “y-y/n,” he breathes. you giggle at his expression, and even though he’s awake, you haven’t stopped shaking his shoulders, finding this all too fun.
“b-baby,” he says, gulping. his hands settled on your waist as he tries steadying you, “i’m awake,” he trails off, you still lightly bouncing on his lap, a smile plastered on your face, and giggles still leaving your lips. “q-quit moving princess,” he says. you tilt your head to the side confused at his words, and you stop your movements long enough to shuffle yourself around slightly on his waist to get more comfortable. his fingers dig further into your hips, his fingertips turning white, and he winces. “baby, please be still, you have no idea what you’re doing to me.” his eyes squeeze shut at your cluelessness, trying so hard to hold himself back.
you move your hands from his shoulders to around his neck as you scan his face, a bubbly smile on your face. you lean forward and place a quick kiss on his lips, giggling as you pull away. a small smile paints his lips, but he’s having a really hard time ignoring the way your clothed heat is sitting right on top of his hardening cock. his eyebrows furrow together slightly as he looks down at where you’re sitting. “are you okay?” you ask, round, shiny eyes looking at him. he doesn’t say anything, and you panic slightly. “did i hurt you?” you ask nervously, “i didn’t mean to; i was just trying to wake you-“
“you didn’t hurt me, baby,” he groans, sitting up a little straighter. “the opposite actually...” he trails off. his fingers trace circles on your hips as you look at him in confusion. he pushes you further down onto his lap, his bulge pressing firmly into your clothed heat. you gasp, realization flooding your features as your cheeks heat up. “o-oh.” is all that comes out of your mouth. “do you want me to fix it?” you blurt out before you can process the meaning behind your words, hands flying to cover your mouth. seunghan chuckles at your cuteness, removing your hands from your face and placing them back on his shoulders. “you don’t have to, baby.” “w-what if i want to?” you ask coyly, blush staining your cheeks. seunghan swears he might die right then and there; your innocence pouring through your words is driving him insane.
“what do you wanna do, baby? your hands? mouth? i’ll help you,” he coos, not wanting to scare you off. “m-mouth maybe?” you reply, cursing yourself after considering you’ve never given a blowjob before. he brings one of his hands up to caress your cheek. “okay, get on your knees for me, princess.” you do exactly what he says, sinking to the floor, his legs spreading so you can slot yourself in between them. the sight of you looking up at him between his legs makes him think he could literally cum untouched. “good girl,” he coos, “now go ahead and pull down my sweats.” your hands shakily obligue, pulling down his sweats and boxers in one go, his cock springing free and hitting his stomach. he hisses at the feeling of the cold air.
“okay baby, now you can pump me a few times, and when you’re ready, try taking me in your mouth. just remember, no teeth.” he smiles at you fondly, watching your every move as one of your hands starts to wrap around his aching member. you do exactly what he said and pump your fist up and down his cock a couple times; he winces at the feeling, head already rolling back in pleasure. you finally get the courage to angle his cock towards your mouth, and you wrap your lips around the head of it. tongue swiping across his slit, he groans loudly. at first you worried you did something wrong, but when you realized the noises he was making were noises of pleasure, you gained confidence. repeating the action a couple times before taking more of him into your mouth. you take in as much as possible, his tip hitting your throat, and you start to gag.
“use your hand for what you can’t take, baby.” you hear seunghan say from above you. you draw your head back slightly, replacing the warmth of your mouth with your hand as you focus on the part of him in your mouth. you bob your head slowly, letting your tongue drag up and down his slick cock. your hand pumping what you can’t reach. seunghan’s head is thrown back in ecstasy. he can’t believe you’ve never done this before. he pulls his head forward, wanting to watch your every move. you look up at him through your eyelashes, head still bobbing up and down. “doing so good for me, baby, looking so pretty,” he reaches out, caressing your head as you moan at his words, sending vibrations onto his cock. his hips buck slightly. “such a sweet thing, aren’t you?” the praises fall from his lips as he feels his high approaching.
“i-im close, baby,” he says, voice shaking. you quicken your movements, making sure to pay extra attention to his tip like you did in the beginning, and with one last lick on his slit, you’ve sent him over the edge. hips bucking into your mouth as his load shoots into the back of your throat. once you’re sure he’s done, you pull your mouth off of him, looking up at him as you swallow his seed. “fuck,” falls from his lips. he quickly pulls up his pants and then pulls you up off of the floor, standing you up in front of him. he glances down at your knees, red from the pressure of being on them for so long. his hands fall to them, rubbing circles gently on each. he looks up at you, pulling you back down to sit on his lap again. “did so good for me, baby,” he tucks some hair behind your ear. “seunghan,” you breathe; his eyes scan your features, worried you might be uncomfortable. "are you okay, princess?” he asks, worry present in his tone. your eyes flutter shut as you breathe, arousal coursing through your veins.
“my turn, please.”
.
..
…
#riize ff#riize hard hours#riize hard thoughts#riize headcanons#riize scenarios#riize smut#riize x reader#evnseokz#✫ quinn posts#seunghan x reader#seunghan smut#seunghan#hong seunghan#seunghan hard hours#seunghan hard thoughts
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ʚ⁺˖ ↠ blue
ᰔ pairings: dabi/touya todoroki x fem!reader ᰔ content/tags: mha spoilers, childhood pov, abusive childhoods, childhood crush, blood, allusions to self harm/suicide, explicit language, smut, kinda not really, its smutty talk, angst, allusions to s/a, power dynamics, time jump to when touya is like 26, creative liberties have been taken with the original story, set in the century 2400 ᰔ wc: 10.5k ᰔ a/n: so there is a bit of a weird timeline with this one. instead of touya dying at 13, I've made it he dies at 16 and the subsequent events are a lil delayed, in the manga he is 24 atm but here i have him as 26, please suspend your disbelief for a sec cause the amount of work ive put into this so it makes sense, i almost went crazy
March 10th 2460 Touya: aged nine You: aged eight (and three-quarters)
Breakfast is at five, lunch at twelve, and dinner at seven.
The clock hands tick over the first five graduations and onto the sixth, meaning it is six minutes past seven and dinner is late.
Lateness is not tolerated by the Todoroki clan.
No reason, whether it be big or small, would be accepted nor understood by the head of the family, and punishment for being tardy ranged from groundings to lectures and in the most severe cases, a beating. However, those parameters do not extend to said head, who you think to be more akin to that of a prison warden than a father.
You watch the housekeeper slide the last of the food onto the table and take another look at the clock.
7:08.
The table had been set, food diligently prepared and presented, plates piled high with greens and dripping meat, three different kinds of fish, an array of soups, and other liquid foods. Mrs Todoroki often had trouble eating, so instead opted for warm broths and hot teas, and they were all going cold while you waited for Mr Todoroki to come in from Touya’s nightly training. Saliva coats your tongue as you breathe in the heavenly scents wafting from the mountains of food, your stomach growling in protest at not being filled with the delicious smells.
Ten minutes pass and just before the eleventh has a chance to be observed, the sliding doors to the dining room whoosh open. With the ease and casualness of someone who is above the law of the household, Enji Todoroki strolls in followed closely behind by the eldest sibling.
Touya trails behind his father, movements sluggish and slow, his frail body slumped in exhaustion and what you would only later realise as terror. You can almost see the muck that weighs on his body, dripping off sharp bones in big flat globs of swamp green mud, seeping into the reeds of the tatami mats below. Fresh wounds litter his arms, blooms of dark red blood pock the sterile bandages that were hastily wrapped around his limbs. The stark white began at his wrists and climbed up and up his arms until they disappeared beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt. You follow Touya, eyes lingering on his wounds as he sits down opposite you.
“Fuyumi. Is he-“ Your question is hushed, spoken from the corner of your mouth to avoid raising suspicion of the subject.
“He’s okay, we don’t talk about it.” Her answer comes in a rush, eyes darting towards her father like a prey animal watching their stalker. “Just eat.”
Fuyumi’s mouth pulls into a frown for a quick second before her attention moves to the food before her.
You nod, attention shifting from the boy across the table to the plate that had been prepared just for you. A small helping of meat and fish paired with a big serving of rice and vegetables, the nanny even going as far as to put it into a divider plate as though you were a toddler, but you thanked her regardless, smiling up at the haggard-looking woman as she nodded politely and moved onto tending to baby Shouto. The food only holds your attention for so long before you glance back up at Touya, watching as he cuts into his steak with the precision of a man far beyond his years. Each move slow and calculated; every shift of his arms or turn of his head deliberate and purposeful, small actions to avoid raising awareness of his person. Come to think of it, all the children, save for Shouto, moved like that. As if they were in constant apologetic states just for breathing, existing, and with their father you understand why, but it doesn’t stop you from staring at the boy before you.
"Stop looking. He doesn't like it when you stare." Fuyumi whispers, smacking her knee against yours.
"But it looks like it hurts." You whisper back, unable to look away from the red splotches on the white bandages.
You want to ask if he is okay. If he needs a doctor and who did that to him? Was it a bully at school? How was the school not getting involved if he was being bullied this bad?
"Fuyumi," Touya sneers from across the table. "Tell your friend to stop staring at me."
Unabashed hatred simmers in his blue eyes as his glare falls on you. Heat rises to your cheeks, stumbling out an apology, and vowing to never look at him again.
No one had ever looked at you like that. With such hatred and malice, you didn’t even know existed.
"He plays rough, always falling over at school," Mr. Todoroki’s voice booms throughout the room, so loud and sudden it is like a thunderclap on a clear day. "You've got to be more careful, Touya. What would people think if they saw you like this!"
The lack of care for his son’s well-being gives you pause mid-bite. The vegetables fall from your fork as goosebumps skitter along your skin.
What would people think if they saw you like this?
What would they think other than he had been in an accident? Is Touya’s broken body a regular occurrence that people would be so used to seeing that it would start to raise suspicion? Had he been hurt on purpose? Why would Mr. Todoroki say that? Did Mr. Todoroki do that to Touya?
Your attention is pulled outwardly as Natsuo starts to talk about his day, telling his mom and the housekeepers all about the latest games and toys at school, the newest edition of a card game you like captivates you and your thoughts are swept away from the strange boy across from you.
Dinner ended as it always did.
Mr. Todoroki called the housekeeper over to deal with the mess and children as he retired to his office and Mrs Todoroki took her evening walk around the grounds of the estate. You can’t stay the night despite it being a Friday, you’re never allowed to stay the night. Fuyumi had stayed at yours plenty of times, your parents never saying no to another friend but never you at hers. You thanked both her parents and waved bye to her brother before the youngest housekeeper walked you home. That’s how every Friday night ended.
That routine had become a staple in your life, going on two years, before there was a change to the way of things.
------
July 1st 2362 Touya: aged eleven You: aged ten
The shift was subtle and gradual, like the way a house is warmed by a fire on a winter’s eve. Slow and steady, seeping into all corners of the once-frozen house until all you know is warmth and you can’t remember how the cold felt. That’s how you would describe Touya’s presence in your life. From the arctic interactions each Friday night at the dinner table to someone you would call a friend.
The first thaw of the ice wall that had formed around your friend’s brother, was an accident.
Knee deep in the heat of summer, you had rushed over after summer school, swimmers in your backpack and a dream of jumping into the fresh cold heaven that was the local pool. You had come looking for Fuyumi, hell-bent on getting your poor friend out of the stuffy old house and somewhere she could have fun without the risk of her dad making her or her siblings cry.
You had come to hate Mr Todoroki.
He hadn’t done anything to you personally to deserve the contempt you held towards your friend's dad but you had heard enough from Fuyumi. She had told you all the times he made her mom cry. How there would be arguing and then the sounds of breaking plates followed by her mom’s cries. Mrs. Todoroki never said anything was wrong, never alluded to anything other than a mild argument but there had to be something more, right? Adults didn’t cry over nothing!
“ ‘Yumi, let's go to the pool!” you call down the hall. “I’ll buy ice cream this time.”
The housekeeper had let you in, instructing that your friend was in her room finishing up some school work but after you checked her room and found no sign of her, you went looking.
That is how you found Touya.
Walking into the bathroom under the assumption you would find Feyumi, you are greeted with a situation you are not old enough to understand the severity of.
Touya slouched on the bathroom floor, surrounded by bloodied towels, unspooled bandages, and uncapped ointment tubes. A piece of gauze caught between his teeth as he attempts to bandage his bleeding hand.
He shouts at you to leave, his command broken as he hiccups around the sobs falling from him. Scorched skin covering the majority of his arms, fingers red and blistering as they shake.
That image sears into your brain. Imprinting itself onto your eyelids so that each time you fall asleep, you see Touya; broken and bloody.
There isn’t much you remember from that afternoon, only flashes and stills that live in the recesses of your mind.
The feel of the cold tiles on your exposed legs as you knelt before the once terrifying older boy who had never had a single nice thing to say to you.
The smell of salt and metal of his fresh blood.
The sound of Touya’s cries as you peeled incorrectly placed bandages off raw and exposed skin.
The acidic taste of bile in the back of your throat upon first laying eyes on the scene before you.
It had been too much for little you to comprehend so you just forgot most of it. Thrown it into a locked drawer in your mind and lost the key.
That was the beginning of the thaw, a gruesome and bloody beginning to a friendship that spanned years and ended just as horribly.
------
September 23rd 2463 Touya: aged twelve You: aged eleven
“So it's this really old movie that my mum used to watch” you explain as you click on the familiar title screen. “It’s about a girl who gets transported to this weird world and she has to solve some weird riddle to get out.”
Touya looks at you like you had grown a second head but accepts your weird movie recommendation. You sit down next to him, popcorn bucket jiggling as the couch sinks under your frame.
The beginning animation of Spirited Away starts and the familiar tune wraps around you like a warm hug. This was the movie you liked to watch whenever you felt sad, and you noticed Touya was a little sadder than normal these days so you offered to have a movie night. His siblings had all said yes but upon discovering that the movie was one from decades ago, backed out. So with just the two of you left, you sit in silence and watch as the beautiful world comes to life.
It’s a nice moment between the two of you, sharing something so personal with someone you would have never considered a friend and here the two of you were, watching a movie. Like friends!
“I’m gonna call you Chihiro cause all she does is cry and that’s all you do too,” Touya announces as the credits begin to roll.
“I do not!” you retort, slapping his arm lightly. “I cry a normal amount for a girl my age!”
Touya rolls his eyes. “Whatever, Chihiro.”
------
February 14th 2464 Touya: aged thirteen You: aged twelve
Spring is only a month away yet it feels as if it were the middle of December.
The cold of winter had sunk its claws deep into the city and it seemed as if it did not have plans to let go of it anytime soon. Everyone in Tokyo bundled up against the frost that coated the wind but it wasn’t the cold that had your hands trembling as you gripped a single rose.
It was Valentine's Day and you were about to ask Touya to be yours.
The nerves that had built in your stomach had taken over your extremities. It was as if your entire body was a live wire that every so often touched an exposed pipe and jolted.
In the two years since the bathroom incident, you had grown closer to the oldest Todoroki, sparking a friendship that consisted of more than smiles and shy hellos across the dinner table. Phone calls and text messages were the daily, walking to school and home together was the new norm, all things that one would consider friendly but there was a part within your heart that was growing to like Touya a little more than a friend. You knew it was a crush, you weren’t a little kid anymore, but you also knew that he was unattainable for many reasons. One was that he was a sibling of a close friend and the other being that he was not someone who thought about life that way. There was no room for crushes in Touya’s world. There was only hero work. How to become a hero and then how to become the number one hero.
You had heard this speech a million times. His plans to surpass his father in the rank of heroes and become the ultimate symbol of peace. Heroes had no time for girlfriends, only villains.
But you had no plans of becoming a hero so there was no real reason you shouldn’t try, right? Your mom had bought you the flower this morning, picking up on the crush that you had developed on your friend and very excitedly pushed you to give Touya a gift.
“What do I do with this?” Touya asks, confused as he takes the flower from your hands.
You had stopped halfway through the walk home and turned to your friend, eyes wide with fear, and shoved the bloom into his hands. Originally the plan was to hand it to him as you said goodbye for the afternoon but you were swiftly running out of ways to regulate your breathing to counteract the anxiety wreaking havoc in your stomach.
“It's for you” you answer, eyes trained on your shoes.
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” There is a pause. “Do you like me?”
Yes.
“No!” you lie, shouting the word even though you didn’t mean to. “I felt bad that you hadn’t gotten anything, so I got you something and there you go, it doesn’t mean I like you.”
You hear footsteps, watching Touya’s shoes move closer to yours. “Just admit, you like me.” He teases.
“I do not!” balling your fists, you stomp your foot. “I already told you why I got them now shut up before I take them back!”
Another pause.
“Thank you,” Touya says gently. “Even if it's just cause you felt bad for me”
Spring had come early for Touya Todoroki.
------
June 28th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen
Romance had blossomed between the two of you, then wilted, then blossomed again, then wilted again.
Teenage hormones had been unleashing havoc on your friendship for the past year. One day you were fine and the next, barely speaking but it wasn’t anyone’s fault.
“You two just need some time apart and then you can talk about it, you guys will sort it out.” Your mother had cooed, stroking your hair back as you cried one afternoon after you and Touya had had a ruthless argument.
The topic of fighting was always the same. His insane need to overtake his father and prove him wrong. The need within him had turned insatiable. Morphing from a dream that would one day be achieved with dedication and hard work into something that was turning your best friend into a ravenous beast.
“You’re not listening to me. I need you to listen to me.” Touya shouts as you walk home together.
“I am. You’re just not making sense.” You roll your eyes at your friend, turning your attention away from the raving lunatic walking beside you.
“Why would your dad have it out for you? He’s your dad?”
Touya huffs and stops, hand wrapping around your wrist to pull you back.
“My dad isn’t like your dad. He doesn’t love me or any of us. He just wants us to be better than All Might.” His words are slow as if explaining something to a toddler. “He knows that I am more powerful than him and now he’s scared that I might beat him so he wants me to stop training.”
You groan out his name, annoyed at the constant conversation topic. “Your dad wants you to stop training because you keep hurting yourself. He has told you that a million times, he’s just trying to keep you safe.”
“If he wanted to keep me safe, he wouldn’t have let me train like this. This isn’t about me being safe, this is about me outranking my dad.”
“Touya-“
He continues his tirade. “Enji has realised that I am better than him and Shoto but he doesn’t want his loser son who can only use fire to become the number one hero. I don’t know why you’re on his side. Why can’t you be on my side for once?”
“I am on your side!” you shout, yanking your arm away from his grasp. “I’m always on your side, why do you always make it seem like everyone is against you!”
Touya’s mouth snaps shut at your sudden outburst.
“I can’t keep having this argument with you. I feel like you don’t even want to be my friend so you come up with this stupid stuff to push me away and if you want that, fine. Just tell me so I don’t have to listen to you anymore.” You huff and turn around, starting on your way home without your friend.
You don’t hear his footsteps follow you.
His apology comes in a text later that night.
I'm sorry, Chihiro. Can we still be friends?
------
October 19th 2466 Touya: aged fifteen You: aged fourteen “Can you promise me something?” Touya’s words become mist in the mid-autumn night.
“Depends.”
You turn to face your friend, feeling the dew-soaked grass squish beneath your shoulders. Hidden behind the garden wall, lost within the shrubbery the two of you hid from the housekeepers who had been tasked with wrangling the children in for dinner. Touya had run first, taking off down the hall the second he heard the call of his name and you followed, unaware as to what you were running from but you followed him everywhere so why wouldn’t you now?
“Please don’t forget me.”
“Forget you?” your brows crinkle in confusion. “Why would I forget you? Are you going somewhere?”
Touya is still on his back, attention rapt on the stars twinkling above him.
“Just when we get older and go to different schools and things change, you know.” He sighs. “Just don’t forget me.”
You sit up, concern overtaking your confusion. Why was he talking about this stuff now? Your friend turns to look at you, mouth pulled down in a frown as tears line his cerulean eyes.
“I won't.” You shake your head, scooting closer across the grass and grab his cold hand, interlocking your fingers together, you squeeze and swear an oath. “I promise, I won’t ever forget you.”
November 24th 2367 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen
Nights come quicker in winter.
Which means less time spent with Touya.
But at least there is a little extra time when he walks you home on an evening.
It is a little awkward. Walking so close together but not actually touching aside from the occasional brush of fingers that sent your heart into a sprint. There is something unspoken between the two of you, something that teeters on the edge of romance but not something that you are both ready to dive into. It’s not like you are kids anymore, if you are going to date, it will be different than if you just liked each other. You will have to act like a girlfriend and not his friend and you didn’t know how to be a girlfriend. Was it any different than how you acted now? Plus, kissing and hand-holding. God, you want to kiss him.
You both stop at the gate of your house. The lights in the living room are on which means your parents are up waiting for you.
Touya drops your backpack at your feet.
There is a beat of stillness between the two of you, the tension rising with every second. You had not spoken a single word to each other the entire walk home and you don’t think you will even say goodbye. Touya offers you a tight smile and steps back, confirming your suspicions of a silent goodbye.
"Hey, I need to tell you something." You blurt out the words, not wanting him to leave just yet.
"Yeah?"
"I…umm," you stammer, slipping your hands into your jacket pockets. "I know it's your birthday in a few weeks, so I wanted to know what you want as a present."
"That's a question, Chihiro” Touya's mouth lifts at the corners. “You said you needed to tell me something."
“I got mixed up." You amend.
"You sure? There isn't anything you need to tell me?" Touya pushes, taking a step to close the gap.
"I'm sure. I just got confused" You nod, affirming your choice of words. “What do you want as a gift?”
"Hmm,” He pauses and takes a few more steps closer, lips pursed as if deep in thought. “Well, I want some of those cookies your mom makes."
Touya stops a few feet from you, close enough for a hug but not close enough that it was weird.
You laugh. "Really? That's it? You don't want a proper present?"
He nods. "Wrap it up, and it'll be a proper present.”
“Okay, cookies it is” You mirror his nod and smile. Your palms start to sweat, cheeks and ears begin to burn as you look up at your best friend.
“Any more questions?”
You shake your head. “Nope, that’s all.”
“Okay, well I’m gonna go 'cause I should have been home ten minutes ago but you are such a slow walker” he teases, bouncing up on his toes.
“I-Um,” you stutter, unable to come up with a snappy comeback due to his proximity. “Go home before you get into trouble.”
“I’m gonna.”
He makes no move to go.
Silence fills the gap.
“Ahh, well I’m going to go since-“
You’re interrupted by a soft kiss against your cheek.
You still, unable to move at the realisation that Touya had just kissed you.
“Okay, I’m going.” He announces and takes a step back. “I’ll see you on Monday?”
You nod, raising a hand in goodbye as he starts back down the street.
“I hope you like me too, 'cause that kiss made me late and my dad’s gonna kill me!” he shouts back, already halfway down the street.
“I do…like you…back” you shout awkwardly, feeling every inch of blood your body had flood into your cheeks. “Good luck. Hope your dad doesn't kill you!”
------
November 30th 2467 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged fifteen
You speak at Touya’s funeral.
The third speaker of the ceremony, having been urged on by Fuyumi and Natsuo despite your protests, and the one to close off the day before his ashes were taken home. You tried not to cry, bottom lip wobbling all day and you would have made it had you not been shoved on stage, microphone held to your face as you unfolded the crumpled sheet you had stuffed into the pocket of your coat.
The rest of the day was a blur as was the week, then the month and only after six full months of grieving daily, crying god only knows how much, did you finally start to see the light at the top of the hole you had buried yourself in but unlike the times you and Touya would play together, his warm hand wasn’t there to help you back up.
------
January 4th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
You think about Touya Todoroki often.
How your best friend had been killed in some freak accident. How despite his father rushing into the flames to save his son, had come out unscathed yet all that was found was Touya’s jaw bone. It didn’t make sense and you had driven yourself crazy with theories surrounding his death. It was an accident, they had all said. Even if it was an accident, Enji Todoroki was not innocent.
You think about the kind of man Touya could have been if he had lived, what kind of hero he would have become. How he would save the day then turn and smile at his adoring fans, blue eyes blazing bright with pride. You often think about his eyes, remembering how they softened whenever he would smile at you, brighten as you offered half of whatever snack bar you had that day. You think about him enough that you think you’re going crazy when you look up into the eyes of a stranger and see Touya staring back at you.
"Touya?" you whisper as you stare at the strange man.
You had walked headfirst into their chest while crossing the dark street, ducking under awnings to avoid the winter rain. Hoping to cut ten minutes from your usual walk home, desperate to beat your roommate home and into the warm embrace of your apartment’s limited hot water, you took the risk of walking down the alley; what you weren’t hoping for was to bump into your best friend’s dead brother. There was no way it was him, maybe he was a distant Todoroki. Enji did seem like the type to spread it around so maybe a few illegitimate children were running around with the eyes of Endeavour.
His hand reaches out to grab your arm, nails digging into your exposed flesh. You want to wince, to cringe away from him but something within you is telling you to hold your ground. The stranger pulls you closer, all false bravado leaving you as you realise what’s about to happen. Your body tenses, hands uselessly curling into fists at your side.
"Who the fuck are you?" a harsh whisper cuts through the quiet patter of rain.
The hand your arm tightens when you take too long to respond.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Your answer whooshes from you, all air leaving your body in a single sentence.
The stranger ducks his head to get closer to yours and you turn your face away, afraid to look into the face of the man who had the eyes of a long-lost love. This had to be some sort of joke, right? You were not about to be assaulted by a guy who had Touya’s eyes, there was no way the universe was that cruel.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to I’m sorry, please.” Hot tears roll over your cheeks, your bottom lip quivering as you fight the frown wanting to form. You were not above begging despite knowing it wouldn’t do any good, if there was some way to get out of this situation alive and unscathed, you were going to try it.
“Hey,” the stranger calls to you, shaking you gently. “Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Great, he’s playing mind games now. You’ve seen enough true crime to know that there are no good people left in the world, especially the ones who lurk in alleyways.
A cold hand reaches out and grips your chin, lifting your face to his. The gesture is intimate, gentle and familiar.
“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean anything by it. I'm sorry, I-“You’re sobbing now.
“Look at me” he interrupts, fingers tightening on your cheeks.
He repeats his order when your gaze doesn’t move.
You sniffle, blink back tears that refuse to stop coming, and focus your attention on the man before you.
“I’m not going to hurt you so stop crying,” his voice is soft.
The hand that was on your arm now cups your cheek, thumb brushing away the tears that coat your cheeks. His skin is rough and warm, but there is a bite of something cold on his palm. He holds you with such tenderness you feel a tug at your heart not for any feelings towards the stranger but because you had never been held like this before. That a complete stranger who was probably a crazy psycho villain was holding you with the care you hold a baby animal with.
“I need you to stop crying and answer me, can you do that?” he asks, nodding as his thumb continues to brush over your cheek.
You nod, taking in a shaky breath.
“Good girl.” Heat floods your cheeks. “Now, why is a pretty girl like you walking alone at night?” he asks softly.
You blink up at him, surprised at the switch in demeanour.
“I just finished work and this is shortcut.” you don’t have time to come up with an elaborate lie. “I’m really sorry about the whole name thing, you just look like a friend who died and I thought that maybe he wasn’t actually- I’m sorry” You feel the tears welling up again.
“Well, he’s not me.” He sighs, removing his hands from your face. You kind of miss the warmth they had. “I’m sorry you lost someone, but I don’t think accusing strangers of being dead people is a good idea.”
You nod wordlessly, too stunned at his shift in tone to formulate a response. The man reaches up for the hood of your raincoat, pulling it over your head tight to shield you from the rain.
“I need one more thing from you okay?” he asks, ducking his head to look into your eyes. “You gonna listen to me again?”
“Okay.” Your voice shakes.
“Don’t mention that name to anyone else, alright?”
He waits for your nod and then releases your hood. “You’re such a good listener” The fact he is praising you has your heart spinning. Wasn’t he ready to attack you a few minutes ago?
“Now go home” he nods his head to the exit of the alleyway. You follow his nod and look back at the light-filled street. “And don’t walk down backstreets anymore, you could get hurt.”
By the time you turn back to face him, he is already halfway down the alleyway arms raised in a farewell. You watch as he turns the corner and only when he is gone do you let yourself breathe. ------
March 6th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
"Let it go, dude," Natsuo sighs for the umpteenth time as he packs his books away. "You're lucky you didn't get hurt. He could have been a complete psycho."
Your friend is right and has been every other time you have brought up the strange man from the alley and you can tell by the way he shoves the textbooks into his backpack that his patience is running thin. Over the years, you had grown closer to Natsuo, looking at him like a little brother who you could force to hang out with and do things Fuyumi didn't want to. Unfortunately for him, he was the first person you called upon meeting the stranger (Knowing Fuyumi would have had a heart attack upon hearing about your encounter). Initially, Natsuo was concerned, terrified for your physical and mental wellbeing even going so far as to suggest letting his father know about the incident to launch a formal investigation but you were quick to shut that down. You hadn’t been hurt and the man didn’t seem to be skulking in alleyways to assault anyone so there is no reason you should get heroes involved.
"Dude, he looked so familiar! I know him," you press on, hands splayed on the library table as you lean in as if you were about to reveal a secret. "I think he was a childhood friend."
You had purposefully omitted the fact the stranger bore a striking resemblance to his dead brother or how his entire aura radiated familiarity and warmth something you only really felt from said brother.
Natsuo laughs and zips his bag closed. " 'Yumi was your only childhood friend."
"Fine, a neighbour, maybe I don't know, but I know him."
"Should I schedule you with my family psych, or will this fade by next month?" You frown at Natsu, sigh, and then give in to his pronounced lack of interest.
"I don't need to see anyone because I know I'm right," you start to pack up your things. "But, just for you, I won't mention it again."
------
May 17th 2477 Touya: aged sixteen You: aged twenty-five
You feel stupid.
Really fucking stupid.
So monumentally stupid with every single decision that has led you to this moment. Led you to stand before a thick metal door, the sliding peephole pulled back to allow the man guarding the entry a view as to who knocked like some girl scout. The box of cookies in your hands does nothing to evade that image.
“I have a meeting with…Dabi?” you look down at your phone, squinting at the blurry name on your screen then back to the man guarding whatever was in that building. “I think.”
You have no idea if you’re being set up. If the person you had been corresponding with was the infamous villain or just some poser but what you have deduced from your months long investigation is that you had in fact met Dabi in that alleyway so whether it was him or not you were about to meet, he is your only lead into finally figuring out what exactly happened to Touya
“You think?” You hear the smirk in his voice at the uncertainty in yours. “I think you might have the wrong door, sweetheart.”
It is the right door. The creepy encrypted message you received gave you this very location with the exact time to arrive. This was a giant risk on your behalf. Trusting strangers on the internet to give you accurate information as opposed to being lured into a trap for human trafficking but the need to know more about the mysterious man you had met weeks ago was gnawing at your insides so much that you were more need than person. The hunt had begun with a very broad search into Touya’s death and the records surrounding the tragedy before very quickly veering into villain records and archives. There was a small lead with a hospital admittance for an unidentified burn victim in a hospital a prefecture over from Tokyo but that went cold when the body of the patient was identified two weeks post mortem through dental records. You had all but given up when a weird email in your spam box caught your eye. It was from an unknown sender, hence the immediate spam allocation, and had nothing but a link to a chat site. There is no amount in the universe to quantify the stupidity in your subsequent actions from clicking the link to chatting with the stranger on the other side of the screen but they had the information you wanted and so you followed their instructions to a bookstore, then a bar and then finally an internet café where you logged into the already open discord chat that had the location of the final meeting point. You quickly snapped a picture of the chat before it disappeared and three days later, here you stand in a deserted alleyway surrounded by boarded-up doors and graffitied walls.
“This is the address I was given.” You explain, holding up the phone so the guy can get a look at the message. “I promise I'm not with the police or anything, I just have some questions for Dabi and I know that makes me sound like I’m a police officer but I’m not and I’ve been looking for him for weeks so please, let me in.”
Your mouth sets in a frown and despite wanting to look intimidating and rough, you know you look like a child pouting in an attempt to get more cake. “Please, I’ll give you some cookies if you want.” A shitty bribe but a bribe nonetheless.
The man snorts. “You really have cookies in that box?”
“Yes. Fresh and homemade made and some of them can be yours if you let me in” You wiggle the box.
There is a beat of silence then the sliding peephole slams shut.
Fuck.
You close your eyes, disappointed in the fact you had come so far only to be shut down by some guy behind a door. Maybe this was the universe stepping in and preventing you from getting killed or trafficked. Maybe you should let this whole thing go.
Just as the last of your hope leaves you, you hear the click of a lock and then the door is sliding open. The man who you had been speaking to not ten seconds ago stands before you, muscular tattooed arms crossed over his equally muscular chest.
“Choc chip?” he asks, eyes trained on the box in your hand.
You nod.
“Fine, come in” The man tilts his head in a gesture to welcome you in. “Leave some on the counter.”
You nod again, your pace quick as you enter the building beyond the door.
The hallway is dim and damp, filled with cardboard and wooden crates stacked along the walls. The ceilings are high with exposed piping and hanging fluorescent bars that would have once lit up the entire walkway. Light bleeds beneath the many doors that line the hall, muted sounds following the flashes of colour that leak from the closed-off rooms. The smell is unpleasant, with mildew and mould growing along every available surface but what did you expect a dirty unoccupied building to smell like?
“Where’s the?” you turn to ask about the counter, but the man has disappeared. The door slides shut caging you in from the outside world, from an escape if need be. “Hello?” you call out and take a step back, dried leaves crunching beneath your feet.
Fuck. Fuck.
You turn on your heels, heading for the door you had stepped through a few seconds ago but are stopped by a familiar voice.
“Did you really bring me cookies?”
You whirl, fingers tightening on the box between them. “Yes, but if you don’t want them, it’s okay. I just thought that I might-“
You watch as the man you had met weeks before steps into the dim light. Breath catches in your throat as you are met with the face of the villain that has filled your screen for weeks now.
Dabi.
He is taller than you remember. Towering a full foot over you, his intimidating figure looms in the dim light. Your eyes follow the line of his scarred skin over his cheeks, down his neck, over exposed collarbones before disappearing beneath the neck of his shirt. Heat fills your face at your wandering gaze and you’re thankful for the lack of lighting.
“Who says I don’t want cookies?” Dabi smirks, taking a step out of the shadows.
“No one.” your answer is a broken stammer, earning a bemused snicker from your companion.
You take in a breath and square your shoulders. “I just don’t want to accuse you of anything.” A better delivery.
The villain hums and takes another step closer. “So, it is you then.”
Another foot closer, and when you don’t back away, one more. His steps are careful; small and reserved as if trying not to frighten you anymore than you already are. The routine is repeated, a hesitant dance of pushing proximity limits until he is less than a foot away. Blue eyes narrowed on you, brows furrowed in intrigue. Same blue as before. Same blue eyes as Touya.
His apprehension and fascination leave as quickly as it came, and you're left staring at a man who looks as if he wants nothing more to do with you.
“So, pretty girl, what can I do for you?” tone casual, pet name rolling off his tongue effortlessly. “You’ve gone through all this trouble to what?”
The thought of lying did cross your mind on your way over but you had already jumped through enough loops to get this meeting, you aren’t in the mood to play games and risk his irritation.
“I wanted to talk to you about something.”
Dabi tilts his head to the side the way an animal does to hear better. There is something so unsettling about the he moves, something not entirely human.
“Talk about what, angel?” his eyes blaze blue as he notices the twitch in your lips at the byname. “About the league? About you? Me?”
“About you.”
Heat pools in your stomach at his affectionate pet name, embarrassment following suit. You should not be letting him get to you the way he is, but it could also be a good bargaining chip. If you couldn’t afford his services monetarily, physical payment would not be entirely painful.
“We can talk about me but first, I want to ask you something.”
“Sure.” The false confidence you had summoned before has not left you yet.
The insincerity of your act is palpable, but Dabi lets you go, lets you take this small win.
“How long did it take you to find me?” his question is genuine, interested in just how exclusive access to him is.
An exhausted sigh leaves your body at the mention of the time that you had put into locating him and his lips quirk at the gesture.
“Four months and 2 weeks, I think.”
An irrationally long time but there are questions that demanding answers.
“So, you’ve spent almost five months thinking about me?” he taunts.
Me. The emphasis on the pronoun doesn’t evade you but you don’t have time to dwell on his excitement.
“Yes. And now I’ve answered two of your questions, can I ask one?”
Dabi shrugs and reaches for the box in your hands. Rough fingers brush against the back of your hands, goosebumps skittering over your skin at the contact. He takes his time opening the small white box, bottom lip pulled between his teeth in contemplation at the contents before him and after a full minute of silent deliberation, does he pick one. Slender unscarred fingers dig into the box, fishing out the biggest and most chocolate filled treat.
“Did you make these?” Dabi holds up the choc chip cookie, inspecting the biscuit in the low light.
“That’s three questions now.” you announce as the unofficial score keeper. “and yes, I made them this morning.”
The making of the desserts had been a coping mechanism on your part. Too nervous to sit still but not so overstimulated you were willing to exercise to shake off the extra energy, you turned to an activity you hadn’t touched since university. The recipe was one you know by heart, having it gifted to you by your mother on your eighteenth birthday, you were free to think as your body worked through the motions. However, the purpose behind you baking said sweets was not entirely self-soothing.
Dabi nods and bites into the biscuit.
“I know you already said you don’t know the guy I mentioned when I first met you and I haven’t mentioned him to anyone again just like you asked me, and I figured with you being a villain, you might have connections that I don’t have and you can access more information as to what happened to him and I promise that I can pay. I’ll pay whatever you want but I don’t really have that much but I’ll pay in food, and that’s kinda why I brought some cookies to show that I can bake but that will only be a small amount because I’m good for a couple thousand-“ you reach into your back pocket to fish out your wallet. “I promise, I won't ever mention this to anyone, but I just really need your help, Dabi.” The juxtaposition of your pastel purple Kuromi wallet holding thousands of dollars as payment for a villain’s services almost makes you chuckle but the lack of recognition from your companion causes you to pocket the purse.
Dabi’s stare is unamused as he chews.
“Why is this guy so important to you?” he asks around a mouthful of chocolate. “You’re willing to blow thousands on some dead guy, not to mention you’ve risked your life coming here, so why is he so special?”
Your fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into your palm before you relax and answer.
“Because he died in a really weird way, and I need to know if there was anything I could have done to prevent it.”
“That’s a stupid reason.” Dabi spits out.
A frown tugs at your mouth.
“He’s dead. Who cares how he died and whether you could stop it or not.” He continues, rolling his eyes as your pout forms. “What’s the real reason you’re looking for answers? There’s something else.”
“It’s stupid.” You mutter, suddenly embarrassed at the reasoning for your investigation.
“Ohh, it can’t be that stupid if you’ve put all this effort in.” Dabi croons. “Come on, angel. You’ve gotta tell me why if I’m gonna do all this work looking for him.”
You take in a deep breath in hopes of smothering the tears that are threatening to spill but the lump sticking in your throat has other plans.
“Because he was my best friend and I loved him and I never got to say goodbye.” You sniff, nose starting to run as the tears build. “Please.”
Dabi stares at you.
“You made these?” the question comes out of left field.
You blink at the villain, unaware as to where he is taking the conversation but answer him nonetheless.
“Yes, I did. It’s stupid I know, bringing cookies as a bargaining chip but I-“
“Your mom’s cookies are better.” Dabi interrupts.
My what? My mom?
“What?”
He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’m sorry but her cookies will always be the best.”
Your jaw slackens as you stare at the man before you.
“My mother?”
“Yes. Your mom made better cookies, and it’s not for lack of trying. Yours are really good, but they’ll never beat your mom's.”
Is he fucking with you? Is this some elaborate psychological warfare that he enacted on all his victims? Are you about to die? How does he know about your mother’s cookies?
“Aww, don’t get upset Chihiro. I'm just being honest.”
The nickname rattles your soul.
Touya.
Before you can even register that you are moving, you have crossed the space between your bodies and swung at the villain.
Your clenched fist collides with his jaw, surprising him out of his teasing. Arms wrap around your waist as you collapse against the villain. Your knees break the fall, bones scream out in pain as they slam into the concrete, and you brace for further impact but it never comes. There is a moment when you truly believe you are going to be killed, incinerated into nothing but ash for your assault but nothing happens and so you are left with no other choice but to get answers from the man under you. There is no clear choice as to why you chose violence, some primal part within you acting out of instinct. There isn’t enough time for you brain to catch up or even process that information that had been thrown at you. . In most high-pressure situations, you would retreat inwards and carefully unpack each and every detail of the occurrence like you were a kid under a Christmas tree; not a package left untouched, but you don’t have that luxury in the current moment.
Hot fat tears stream down your face as you grip Dabi’s cheeks in your hand, his skin rough beneath your fingers.
“You’ve been alive this whole time?” you cry, fingers digging into the gaunt flesh and when no answer comes you ask again, the palm of your hand connecting with his cheek in a sharp slap. “You left me to think you were dead, but you’ve been alive?”
Below you, the villain stares up in disbelief. Eyes wide at the mad woman above him, screeching like a banshee let loose. His thin shirt is scrunched tightly between your fingers, pulling the material taunt against his body. You have no control over your actions, feral and bowing to your emotions. You watch as your hand slips to his neck, pushing at the base of his throat.
Finger wraps around your wrist, pulling your weight off his windpipe and then the world shifts.
You are flipped over as easily as a leaf in the wind. Now on your back, the dust that had been kicked up from the floor sticks in your lungs and you cough as you cry.
Dabi hovers above you. Legs on either side of your hips, hands pinning yours above your head preventing you from causing any more harm to him. You try to kick, to wrench your hands from his grasp, throw him off you with your hips but nothing. You fight back against your opponent, teeth gnashing as you desperately try to find purchase on skin but he has done this too many times before to leave anything to chance. All points of access to an injury on his behalf are sealed up, held high above you and there is nothing you can do to reach.
Your cries are loud and deep and aching. Air leaves you with each heaving sob and you fear you may never breathe again. Spit and tears mix in a hot mess across your cheeks and you would wipe away the mess if not for your hands held above.
“I hate you so much.” You seethe, teeth clenched as you breathe in. “I fucking hate you.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You hear Dabi apologising over and over again.
A hand brushes over your forehead, then your cheeks, then your jaw.
“You left me.” You wail. “You left me there, all alone.”
Your chest heaves, air being gulped down as if you had been held underwater to the point of drowning and it felt like you had been. You had been held under for so many years and now you were getting a moment of air, and your brain could not process it.
You take a few more breaths, calming the blood roaring in your ears and pounding heart and finally when your breathing returns to a semi-acceptable rhythm, do you finally acknowledge the man above you.
Dabi glides his palm along your jaw, thumb brushing over your cheekbone before resting his fingers along the side of your neck.
“I’m so sorry.”
A frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.
There is no longer a villain before you. Dabi does not exist. The boy above you is Touya. Your Touya.
You knew it. You knew it was him all along.
“Is it really you?” your voice is hoarse from crying.
“If I answer, you need to promise to keep it a secret,” he whispers, free hand curling in the ends of your hair that lay splayed out beneath you.
“Promise.” You nod and hold out your pinkie the way you did so many times as children.
Touya interlocks his pinkie with yours.
Fresh tears prick at your eyes.
“Hi, Touya,” you whisper.
“Hi.” He whispers back, hand pulling away from yours to glide over your jaw and slot into the hair at the nape of your neck. “I missed you.”
You wrap your arms around his waist and pull his body against yours in a bone-crushing hug. A laugh leaves your friend as he loops his arm around the back of your neck, holding you close. You pull back, face now centimetres from him and wait for him to make the next move. Your body follows his breaths, following his lead just the way you would follow him all those years ago. A lump forms in your throat and you know you look insane; hair mused, cheeks flushed and soaked in tears, eyes still red and crying.
Touya closes the distance, mouth hovering above yours and you think he is going to kiss you but nothing comes.
“Did you really love me?”
A sob leaves you involuntarily.
“I loved you so much, you have no idea.” The truth spills from you. “I love you so much.”
At the confession, Touya kisses you.
His mouth is soft on yours in the gentlest of kisses, almost as if he was afraid that you would fall apart if he pushed any harder. You part your lips to test the waters and when Touya follows your lead opening his mouth against yours, you grip onto the shirt bunched up around his waist. He lets you lead, lets you take control and set the pace for the first few minutes. Following your moves and pressure against your body to not push you any more than you already had been but as you whimper beneath him, his demeanour shifts.
Fingers tighten in your hair and the hand that had been holding himself up comes to rest on your waist, slipping beneath your body to pull you closer to him. Your mouth opens wider beneath his and you feel his tongue trace your bottom lip before flicking into your mouth. Menthol and chocolate fill your senses and you scramble for more, hands gripping his face as you desperately try to get your fill of him; of Touya. The steel of the staples bites into your palm but you don’t care, don’t care what form you have him in, you have your Touya back.
You’re being lifted off the floor, hoisted to sit on his lap, feeling the entirety of his body against yours.
You pull away to stare at him, not believing this is happening and that at any moment you are going to wake up or snap out of your delusion.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Touya asks, eyes frantically searching for the reason you aren’t kissing him anymore.
Your chest constricts at his concern. The same sweet and caring boy you fell in love with all those years ago.
“I’m okay, I just-“You stroke his cheeks and he leans into your touch, inhaling a shaky breath. “I missed you so much. There was so much we didn’t get to do.”
He frowns and nuzzles further into your palm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. I don’t want you to apologise, I just want..” You can’t form the words. Can’t articulate the need within you for him. All these years you’ve held a torch for your deceased best friend. All these years you could have had him with you and now that you do, you aren’t letting go. “I just want you.”
Touya’s frown deepens. “Even now?” His thumbs stroke circles along your clothed skin.
You know he is referring to his crimes. All the bad he has done and probably will do. You do not care. You had long ago abandoned your hope in the heroes of society, having been granted a look into the past of the now top hero. There is nothing for you in that world, nothing on offer that could sway your feelings for the man below you.
“Even now, and tomorrow and the day after that and yesterday and the day before and the month before that” You smile, knowing you weren’t making sense but none of this made sense. “I never forgot about you.”
Touya’s eyebrows knit together in an expression you don’t know and for a moment you panic; worried you had crossed a line that you didn’t know existed. You want to apologise, take back the words that had so carelessly tumbled out but his grip on your body stops you.
“I never stopped thinking about you,” he sighs, hands sliding up to press into the small of your back.
“Really?” you beam, unable to stifle the excitement that grows in you at his confession.
You are no longer an adult woman sitting in a dirty and dusty warehouse; you are fifteen and hearing your crush confess words you had been so desperately wishing to be spoken.
Your best friend’s fingers trailing over your spine pull you back to the present.
“Never for a single second,” he tests the waters and slips one hand under the hem of your shirt. “I never wanted to forget you.”
When no protest on your behalf comes, Touya slips his other hand beneath the material and begins to trace shapes into your skin.
“What did you think about?” your question is breathless, head beginning to swim as you feel heat bloom in your stomach.
Touya hums in thought, fingers beginning to climb your ribs. “Good things. Great things actually.” hands splay over the band of your bra. “some bad things but that isn’t important.”
Your thighs slip further apart at the implication; weight now fully resting atop his hips. There is no doubt that he can feel the heat from between your legs, the warmth that had begun to pool in the seam of your panties.
“Bad things?” you ask the question without knowing what kind of answer you would get. “I was nothing but nice to you, what bad things could you be thinking of?”
You feel his cock twitch at your innocence. Perfect.
Your answer comes in the form of an action. Touya leans forward and captures your mouth in a searing kiss. All teeth and tongue as his fingers pressed hard into your spine, holding you against his body as if you are a buoy and he is lost at sea. Your own hands begin to wander, sliding from where they came to rest on his neck, into the hair at the nape of his neck and as he digs his teeth into your bottom, you pull at the strands between your digits.
Touya pulls away, breathless.
“I always kept an eye on you, you know.” he pants, pushing your body away only enough to ogle you freely. “And I’ve gotta say you grew up so well.”
There are two thoughts that cross your mind in that spilt second. One: to bring up the fact he has kept you within his sighs for years, has been in the shadows of you life and how there is a part of you, not that big but enough to plant a seed of betrayal, that you can’t forgive him for that. Two: to throw caution to the wind and give into the part of you that aches for him.
The latter wins out.
“I did always think that Dabi was really handsome” you admit, an air of nonchalance in your words.
“Oh yeah? Even with all the new mods?”
“New mods?” you laugh. “Why do you make it sound like you’ve upgraded a game or something?”
Touya laughs with you.
“I’m serious,” vulnerability swims in his eyes as he looks up at you waiting for praise. “Do you really think that I’m still handsome?”
You nod and duck your head closer to his. “I still think you’re so handsome and you will always be handsome, which is really unfair.”
His lips are pressed against yours in a soft kiss. It's gentle and sweet, with no hint of the darkness lurking just below.
“Even after all these years how do you manage to make me so weak?” Touya pulls away to admire you.”You, my pretty girl, are my weakness.”
He tucks your hair behind your ears, holding your cheeks in his cupped hands and pulls you back in for a kiss and you melt into his touch at the possessive compliment.
“All these years, I never thought I’d get to talk to you again let alone touch you.” His mouth moves to your neck, pressing sloppy open-mouthed kisses against your skin. “but, fuck, have I thought about it.”
Your skin flushes at his confession.
His teeth sink into your neck, hard enough to leave a mark but not enough to break the skin.
“Thought about kissing you like this” his words are slurred.
Slick begins to pool in your panties, the seam of your jeans dampening.
“Thought about having you in my lap, just the way you are and how good you’d feel on my cock.”
Your head swims at his words.
“When I saw you again for the first time a few years ago, it took everything in me to not walk up to you and kiss you right there and then.” He bites lower, nipping at your collarbone.
Rough hands make their way under your shirt, exploring the expanse of your back.
“Thought about holding you and kissing you and taking you home.” he bites again. “God, the amount of time I’ve spent imagining you under me or spread out just for me.” Breathing becomes hard. “All for me, just for me.” He chants your name as if it were a prayer.
You grind your hips over his, feeling his cock hard and aching beneath you. Touya groans against your throat, fingers digging into your skin. Hands begin to wander downwards until they find purchase on the buttons of his pants, stopping at the metal for approval from the man beneath you and when it comes in a rushed yes, please you flick open the clasp. Your movements are awkward and nervous, having never thought this would happen and you can tell Touya is just as jittery. His fingers dip under the waistband of your pants, toying with the soft elastic of the band. Your hands follow his and pull at the material, trying to pull it down but stop at the realisation there is no way you could do this and still look seductive.
“I’m trying really hard to make this hot, but I don’t think it’s gonna work.” You admit, giggling at the absurdity.
Touya shakes his head, removing his hands from your hips to hold your face again. “I don’t want to fuck you here.” He presses a kiss to your nose.
Before you can ask, he is answering.
“I’m not gonna have the first time I fuck you be on a dirty floor in a random building.” A kiss on your right cheek.
“But what if I want that?” you retort, hand reaching down between the two of you.
His breath catches as your fingers brush against his clothed cock.
“I know you want that,” he pulls your hand away and entwines your fingers. “and you know I do too,” A kiss to your left cheek. “But I had a plan back when we were younger,” he brings your hand to his lips. “and I’ve already had so much taken from us that I’m not letting our first time be taken too.”
Your heart squeezes. He really is the same boy you fell in love with.
“So as much as we both want it, please let me do this, okay?”
You pout, a habit you had formed long ago that usually got you what you wanted from him.
“Please, baby.” The pet name is a gut punch.
You nod and hold up your pinkie.
“You promise?”
Touya grins wider than you had ever seen and entwines his finger with yours.
“I promise.”
May 17th 2477 Touya: aged twenty-six You: aged twenty-five
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ᰔ a/n: NOT PROOFREAD! ohmygosh, this was a long haul. I wrote it and then rewrote it and then rewrote it and so on and so forth till I got here. tiny TINY smut cause i didn’t wanna write a whole ass thing so I might do a one shot of it later. this exhausted me holy- also shout out to billie eilish lmao her entire new album helped me write this mainly chihiro, the greatest and blue but also harry styles' as it was and madds buckley's brother
#http tokki#⊹˚. ♡.𖥔 ݁ ˖ dabi#dabi todoroki#dabi x reader#bnha dabi#dabi x reader fluff#dabi x self insert#dabi x you#dabi x o#dabi x y/n#touya imagine#touya fluff#touya todoroki fanfic#touya x reader angst#touya x y/n#touya x reader#touya x you#toya todoroki#toya x reader#toya todoroki x reader
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• One of the Boys •
Reader x Fred Weasley
Based off of Katy Perry’s song “One of the Boys”
Word count: 3.5k
Summary: You’ve always been one of the boys. That was until you came back from summer break looking a bit, different, as Fred puts it.
Warnings: cursing, mildly steamy scenario
• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •
One of the boys
“Today was bloody brilliant!” Fred cheered and clapped you on the back as he raised his cup to Gryffindor. Practically the whole school was shoved in your common room to celebrate the quidditch cup.
“To Gryffindor!” Oliver bellowed drunkly as everyone drank and cheered.
“Seriously, Y/N, you played fucking amazing today,” Angelina bellowed, downing the rest of her drink.
“I can second that. Since when did you get so bloody good, little one?” George smiled as he put his arm around you. The twins had always been your good friends, the three of you joining the Gryffindor quidditch team in your third years. They’d often referred to you as little one, due to the fact that they towered over you. They constantly teased and pranked you, but you would also join in on their antics. More often than not, you guys were playing quidditch during the warm seasons and pranking Filch in the winter. You were really just one of the boys and you couldn’t be more happy to be a part of their mischief.
“I’ve always been good, Georgie. But I will admit, this was probably my best game yet,” you beamed as you joined the rest in downing your drink.
“You’re only that good thanks to our rigorous coaching throughout the years,” Fred smiled wryly, filling his own cup up again. You rolled your eyes.
“Yea right, Weasley. The two of you combined still wouldn’t be as good as me,” you challenged. The three of you went back and forth all night, drinking and laughing and celebrating Gryffindors victory. The high spirits continued throughout the week and before you knew it you were saying goodbye to all your friends at platform 9 and 3/4.
“Oh! So good to see you sweetie,” Molly smiled warmly as she dragged you into a tight hug, “Have a good summer, we’ll see you in the fall! Say goodbye boys.” Fred and George both approached you and each gave you a quick hug before heading out with the Weasley family.
“See you next year little one!” George called out.
“Don’t skimp out on the quidditch practice, Y/N! You could use it,” Fred shouted, giving you a cheeky smile and a wave. You rolled your eyes and sent a smile back before meeting with your own family and heading home for the summer.
3 months later
You checked yourself out in the mirror one last time and smoothed the top of your hair flat.
“Come on, Y/N! You’re going to miss the train,” your dad called from downstairs.
“Coming!”
Over the summer you had grown a considerable amount. Your dad had been teasing you about how much time you spent in the bathroom getting ready, but you didn’t care. For once in your life you actually felt pretty. Your body had begun to fill out in all the right places and your hair had grown out well past your shoulders now. You had started to shave your legs and wear perfume. You had even bought new clothes as you had outgrown your old wardrobe. All of this had instilled you with a newfound confidence that had you beaming. As you walked onto platform 9 and 3/4, you wore a fitted long sleeve shirt and some new low waisted jeans. You had blown out your hair into soft falling curls and you had even applied some lip gloss. You were excited to start your sixth year with all your friends and your new look.
“Bye guys! I’ll see you for Christmas,” you hugged your family before loading your trunks on the train. As you put your final trunk into the train, someone called your name from behind.
“Y/N?”
You turned around to see Fred and George standing behind you, still towering over your frame.
“Fred! George! How was your summer?” You bounded towards them and hugged George. When you pulled back to hug Fred he just stood there with his mouth slightly agape. George nudged him and he seemed to snap out of whatever trance he was in and leaned in to hug you.
“You look… different,” was all he could manage to say. You chuckled and put your hands on your hips.
“Yes, I’m not so little anymore. You guys can stop calling me little one now,” you teased.
“Nah, you’re still tiny,” George brushed you off as you all started to head onto the train to find a compartment. After walking down the length of the train, you had finally found the compartment where Lee and Angelina were.
“Y/N! How was your summer! Oh my gosh, you look absolutely stunning,” Angelina beamed as she hugged you and pulled you down to sit next to her.
“Thanks Angie, I can say the same about you! And my summer was amazing,” you guys chatted back and forth, catching up on all the latest gossip and all the fun things you did over the summer. Fred and George beamed about the Quidditch World Cup and soon the five of you were full of sweets and ready to take a quick nap before you had to change into your school robes.
“Every year I tell myself not to eat so many chocolate frogs, and every year I eat more than I did the year before,” Lee groaned, leaning back and rubbing his stomach. You laughed and slid down in your own seat, leaning your head against the window and looking out across the green landscape. You were so happy to be back with your friends. The summertime was amazing, but there was nothing like Hogwarts. As you smiled to yourself, you looked up from the window to see Fred staring at you with a serious expression. You raised an eyebrow at him but he just shook his head and looked out the window. That was weird. You shook it off and leaned your head against the window again and nodded off.
Before long, the train had pulled into the station and crowds of students were piling out into to the night to go to welcoming feast. As you filed out of the train and towards the carriages, Fred and George lagged behind a bit and whispered to each other.
“Do you think they’re acting a bit strange?” You leaned in towards Angelina, sending another glance back towards the twins.
“Aren’t they always?” Angelina shrugged as she stepped into the carriage. She had a point.
After a few minutes, you found yourself at the Gryffindor table listening to Dumbledore announce the Tri-Wizard Tournament, everybody increasingly getting excited as his speech went on. The excitement reached its peak as piles of fresh food appeared in front of you and everybody dug into the feast.
“Oh how I missed this food,” you groaned, piling food into your mouth. George hummed in agreement as he piled more potatoes into his mouth. You could feel Fred staring at you again but you decided against meeting his gaze this time. Were they going to prank you or something? He was acting so weird.
Shortly after dinner, everybody headed up to their dorms. Despite wanting to hang out together in the common room, the long day of travel and the large feast caught up with the Gryffindors as the students filed up the winding stairs to their rooms. You had just gotten to your room when you realized you left your book in the common room. You turned around and quietly padded down the stairs to retrieve it. You slowed your steps as you saw the twins huddled together on a couch with their backs turned from you.
“Well yes, I’m not disagreeing. Any bloke can see she looks good, so what? I mean, what are you trying to say?” You managed to hear George say as you approached the coffee table.
“Ooh, who looks good? Does someone have a crush?”
The twins jumped as you grabbed your book next to them.
“Bloody hell, Y/N!” Fred exclaimed with wide eyes. George laughed.
“See, you say you’re no longer little, but you’re so tiny your footsteps don’t even make a sound,” George teased, leaning back into the couch and tossing his arm over it. You rolled your eyes.
“You guys just stomp around like ogres, I walk like a normal human. Anyways, I’m heading to bed. Try not to drool over Angelina, Georgie. It’s only the first day back,” you teased as you turned to head up towards the girls dormitory. You heard George let out a loud laugh before hearing a loud slap and more commotion. You just smiled to yourself, oh how you missed those two. You entered your room and placed your book on your bedside table before going to your wardrobe to change.
“I think George likes you,” you nodded to Angelina as she shot up in her bed.
“Really?” She said with a slight smile. You just chuckled. You were so happy to be back.
The weeks flew by and soon the other wizarding schools had arrived. The only thing that sucked about this whole tournament was that there was no quidditch. It was a surprisingly warm November day when you bounded into the common room looking for a certain pair of red heads. You spotted them huddled up in the corner of the room, probably working on one of their pranking products as you had learned of recently.
“You two,” you pointed at the twins as they whipped their heads up, “wanna play quidditch? Two on two, George and Angelina, Me and Fred.” A cheeky grin immediately grew on George’s face as he turned to look at Fred. A more sheepish smile appeared on Fred’s face as he stood up.
“Alright, Y/N, let’s kick some ass.”
The game had turned out to be exactly what the four of you needed in midst of all the school work that was being assigned. You and Fred flew seamlessly together, scoring over and over again on George and Angelina. They were putting up a good front, but your flying skills were outmatched. You had even attracted a small crowd of students by the time the game ended.
“Good game,” you said, landing onto the field and sticking out your hand for Angelina.
“Yes, valiant effort you two,” Fred smirked, shaking Angelina’s hand after you.
“Merlin, Y/N, I forgot how good you are,” Angelina mumbled as she took her defeat in stride.
“Yeah, shes bloody brilliant,” Fred mumbled with a reserved smile. You looked up at him, beaming at the compliment but he quickly looked away and cleared his throat.
“Gotta admit it, little one. You sure can fly,” George clapped you on the back before following Angelina off the field.
“We make a good team, Freddie,” you smiled, patting his arm before beginning to walk off the field as well. You couldn’t help but feel a little sad. Why was Fred acting so weird around you? Did he not like you anymore? He had been so distant this year, choosing to spend his time with George and whenever you came over to join them, he seemed to shut down and become reserved. And Fred had certainly never been reserved before. You shook your head and walked back to your dorm to shower. You decided you’d ask George about it that night.
After dinner, you sat in the common room working on some homework with Angelina. You tried to focus on your assignment, but your eyes kept drifting over to the pair huddled in the corner. How in the world were you going to ask George about Fred when they were always together? As if your prayers had been answered, Fred stood up and walked out of the common room. Your eyes followed him until he disappeared through the portrait hole. You took no time waiting and began to walk over to George.
“Ah, Y/N, what’s up?” George closed whatever he was working on and put his arm over the back of the couch. You took a seat next to him and turned to face him, nervously playing with your sleeves.
“Um, I actually had a question for you,” you stammered, looking up towards the portrait hole to make sure Fred wasn’t coming back.
“Spit it out, Y/N. What’s up? You’re making me worried,” George laughed, scooting closer to you. You cleared your throat.
“Does Fred have a problem with me? I dunno, it just seems like he doesn’t like me around anymore. He’s been acting so weird and I don’t want to bother him if he doesn’t want me hanging out with you guys anymore,” you trailed off, looking down at your legs. George put his arm around your shoulders.
“Y/N, I can promise you that is not the case,” he sighed, “we both love hanging out with you.”
“Really?” You let out a breath and chuckled.
“Yes, really. Merlin, he is such an idiot,” he grumbled to himself, shaking his head.
“What do you mean?” You raised an eyebrow at him when Fred walked back into the common room. You looked up and your eyes met his. As he got closer to you and George, his brows furrowed. George took his arm off your shoulders and you shifted your body away from his.
“What are you guys talking about?” Fred questioned, stopping in his tracks and crossing his arms over his chest, looking mildly annoyed. Why were his forearms so ripped? You shook your head and cleared your throat.
“I was just bugging him about the herbology assignment, which he hasn’t even started,” you glared at George. It was true that he hadn’t even started the lengthy assignment that was due by the end of the week. George chuckled.
“Did you set it up Freddie?” George questioned, probably about a prank, looking up at his twin. Fred still looked visibly annoyed.
“Yes. I did, but I should’ve made you do it.” Fred said dryly, his jaw clenching slightly. George rolled his eyes. You looked between the twins with a confused expression. You rarely saw them annoyed at each other.
“Alright, well I’m headed upstairs. Goodnight you guys,” you ducked out of the awkward atmosphere and towards Angelina to grab your books.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” George said as Fred sat down in your seat and began to whisper something to George. What was that all about?
A few days went by and Fred was still acting distant. You wondered if George had even said anything to Fred about it. If anything, Fred was avoiding you even more. George tried to give you passing smiles and waves, but anytime he passed you in the halls, Fred would completely ignore you. Even at dinner, he would rarely engage in conversation with you and you were starting to feel really hurt. After this particular night where he purposefully avoided your gaze the entire dinner, you were actually angry at him. He’d been acting so weird all year and then as soon as you talked to George about it, he started completely ignoring you. That night, you left your dorm and stomped up to the twins room. You knocked on the door and stood there with your arms crossed waiting until George opened it. He looked taken aback by your angry presence.
“I need to talk to Fred, alone.” You stated. George gulped and turned to Lee.
“Let’s go to the common room,” he grabbed Lee and pushed past you. Fred was now looking at you from his bed. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. It looked half scared and half the nonchalant expression he’d been giving you the past few days.
“What the fuck is your problem with me?” You stomped over the his bed where he sat. He raised an eyebrow at you and crossed his arms.
“I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N. What are you talking about?” He shrugged as he looked up at you nonchalantly, but you could see his jaw tensing.
“Are you serious right now, Fred? You know exactly what I’m been talking about. You’ve been avoiding me all week, ever since I talked to George about you. I don’t know if he even mentioned it to you, but I thought you didn’t like me anymore! He told me that wasn’t true, but now I’m not too sure anymore! You’ve been acting like a prat all week!” You were fuming at this point. You couldn’t believe he had the audacity to pretend like he hadn’t been ignoring you for days.
“That’s not fuckimg true! I told you I don’t have a problem with you, Y/N,” he jumped up off the bed and stalked towards you, “why can’t you just take my word for it?” His height became apparent as he loomed over you. You only stood up straighter and kept your arms crossed.
“Well then what’s your problem? Why don’t you like hanging out with me anymore? Why are you avoiding me?” You questioned, your anger slowly seeping away and being replaced with the hurt you’d been feeling. Fred sighed, his posture relaxing as he saw your eyes fill with sadness. He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair.
“I do like hanging out with you, Y/N. Merlin, I’ve been missing spending time with you, I just…” he trailed off, his eyes falling to the floor.
“You just what, Fred? Since when are you so shy?” You asked genuinely. That only made Fred groan and run his hands roughly through his hair again.
“Since I started liking you! Since you showed up on the platform looking like that and now I can’t even look at you without thinking you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen,” the words tumbled out of his mouth and left you standing there with your mouth open. Did he just say he likes you? Did he just call you beautiful? “I miss playing quidditch with you and coming up with pranks together but fuck, Y/N. I don’t want to be your friend anymore. I want to be with you.” You stood still for what felt like a long time. Were you dreaming right now? Your brain scrambled to make sense of what was happening. I mean, Fred was standing in front of you, confessing his feelings to you in a very real way. But you’d been friends for so long. What if this ruined everything? But he was standing right in front of you with his messy hair and his freckled face and his furrowed brows and he just looked so good and he was finally talking to you again and
“Oh, fuck it,” you breathed out, closing the space between the two of you. You were kissing him. And it felt so good. He groaned into your lips as his hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you flush against his body as his lips worked against your own. Your hands tangled in his red locks as you pulled at his neck to deepen the kiss. His hands slid up your body until he held your cheeks. He kissed you softly one more time before pulling back. You face was blushed red as you stared up at him with wide eyes. He finally let out a breathy laugh and his lips curved up into a crooked smile.
“You’re so cute, fuck,” he laughed, still holding your face in his large hands, “I’m sorry I’ve been acting like a prat. I just didn’t want to ruin our friendship. But after kissing you, fuck, I should’ve ruined it a long time ago.”
“I just wish you would’ve told me earlier. Had I known you liked me, I could’ve had you kissing me all year,” you smirked as you walked him to the edge of his bed. He sat on the edge and pulled you down with him.
“Let’s make up for lost time then,” Fred whispered as he pulled you to his lips. You groaned as you straddled his lap and deepened the kiss. This man knew how to use his tongue.
“Fuck, Freddie,” you moaned into his mouth as his hands found their way to your ass. He chuckled as his grabbed your hips.
“I’ve been wanting to do that ever since I saw you bent over your luggage on the platform,” he breathed out with a smirk as he slapped your ass. You gasped and hit his chest.
“Freddie!” You scolded, but it didn’t last long as he pulled you back to his mouth, making you moan as his thumbs rubbed over your hip bones.
“Bloody hell,” you heard someone say from the door. You gasped and pulled away from Fred only to see George standing in the doorway with his jaw wide open. Fred’s smirked stayed plastered on his face and his grip held you tight on his lap.
“Sorry Georgie, think you can give us a few more minutes? We’re still talking.”
#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley x reader#harry potter#harry potter imagines#wizarding world#harry potter fanfiction#reader x fred weasley#y/n x Fred weasley#george weasley#Fred weasley#harry potter oneshot#Harry Potter master list#hpboys#Fred weasley one shot#fred weasley oneshot#mallowsweetmiri
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Hi, I've read the Residuum comic, and I think the characterization of the boys is really good. I was wondering if you have any tips on how to write them? Especially Mikey, please.
I'd actually recommend re-watching the show with one character in mind. All my notes on the turtles come from doing separate re-watches for each of them. The key is to ONLY watch the character you are focusing on.
In the end, you'll probably be happier with your own personal interpretation. As we are with ours lol
TL;DR
Massive post under the cut
To preface: we'll be contrasting (this Mikey) against the fandoms version of Mikey, as our interpretation is very different. Don't worry if you prefer the fandom version, there's nothing… wrong per se with writing him this way. We just find him flat and uninteresting. (Main author: not me, I just hate him, lol).
Every reader or fan comes into a story with their own biases and experiences. A ton of our view of Mikey is based on how our siblings acted. We see Mikey as the young sibling that got preferential treatment from the whole family, simply due to being the youngest, but is now aging out of the privilege. Which all youngest siblings do at some point or another.
The fandoms version of Mikey is empathetic, naive, vulnerable, co-dependent and quite often a door mat who cries at the drop of a hat. And as much as the fandom like to say that people love him… when this particular character archetype is in other media, they seem to attract the most criticism. Mable pines, Bolin from Korra, people rag on Aang all the fucking time, and Steven Universe is a whole other bag. These characters don't deserve it, and yet it happens anyway.
To flatten Mikey to simply 'the baby' is a disservice. We don't see or write Mikey as the fandom “baby” version (cinnamon roll uwu). Part of this comes from having multiple siblings, so we interpret the times when Mikey does the puppy dog eyes as typical younger sibling bullshit, mostly by the way that the other turtles rarely react to it, if at all.
The other turtles traits can also get projected onto Mikey. Mikey being the fandom therapist is in the same category as this. He isn't a therapist, he's a psychology nerd who likes to psychoanalyze people and meddle in their relationships. (Donnie and Shelldons relationship, Splinter and Draxums...) he's not trying to resolve your emotional issues. Of the turtles, the character that cares the most about people's feelings is Raph. And Leo is more of a consoler than Mikey ever is. It flattens all the turtle's characterizations when you start doing this because you are ripping out parts that are integral to another characters' complexity.
Co-author has told me that they've seen people become confused when going into the show after only reading fan fiction or coming from the movie. They see his characterization as inconsistent and become upset when their view of him is contradicted. This also happens when a fandomized version of him becomes the primary characterization that they use. Sometimes when this disconnect happens (or if they just don't like the character), Mikey characterization is swung in the complete opposite direction.
They make him manipulative and abusive, or someone who is hyper violent and avoids being held accountable for anything. This is an uncharitable interpretation of him and can come off as pretty racist depending on the circumstances. (like if someone considers the turtles black or not)
Every version of Mikey is a shithead (affectionate), even this one. Especially this one, really. When Mikey not doing the "baby schtick" hes mean. If you pay attention to what he's saying, and just not his tone of voice, he's consistently saying pretty mean or condescending stuff. (You could take this as simply naïveté, but he still says mean shit pretty often regardless)
The times he does say genuinely nice stuff the turtles don't exactly expect it from him, at least, in the early season. And while he is mean, and seems to find saying mean things to be funny, Mikey isn't cruel. Nor will he ever be.
This shit-headery behavior is found in both 2003 and 18 Mikey. They have a degree of social intelligence that lets them use it to annoy people into doing what they want. 18 just has the advantage of being baby faced and having better tonal control. He's good at using people's perception of him to get what he wants.
Let Mikey have his problematic traits, but don't overexaggerate them. He doesn't revel in fooling people. He loves doing character bits, and the baby faced one just happens to be one of them. However, to infantilize or to deem him incompetent is to piss him off, he wants to be viewed as a competent part of the team and competent as an individual. He's not insecure about being young, he just doesn't want to be treated like he can't do anything.
Mikey above all is an optimistic character, he sees the brighter side quite often and is conscious of the harm his actions have on people. Mostly after the fact, but he consistently attempts to rectify the harm he has personally done to peoples lives. (Todd, Bullhop, Draxum). Food and shelter seems to be a thing that he considers to be a right. He doesn't cross a boundary twice once he learns of it, and he never pushes people too far (if he likes you, that is. if he doesn't know you or doesn't like you, he doesn't give a singular shit. But that is standard to most people.). He doesn't care about people's stuff, though. He breaks things all the time.
Mikey understands boundaries, but he doesn't automatically recognize them. He needs them to verbalized or for there to be a very obvious reaction to the boundary being crossed (unfortunately, for Todd and Donnie). Sometimes people mess up (esp. younger people), and it can take a while for teens to learn where boundary is, but he fully respects the boundaries he does know about. He doesn't act petulant when he's told about boundary, he apologizes, accepts it, and moves on. He doesn't dwell.
Mikey doesn't hold on to distressing emotions. He bounces between emotions quickly, but isn't effected in the long run. One thing Iv'e seen people often conflate is the difference between sensitive and vulnerable. Mikey is sensitive, but I have never seen him vulnerable to others. To be sensitive is to be easily influenced by the current situation. To be vulnerable is to hold that influence for a long time. Characters can have one, both, or neither of these traits. But Mikey is not vulnerable. It is the difference between compressing memory foam and a piece of metal until they deform. One will pop back, the other does not.
Those who are vulnerable but not sensitive will take longer to effect, but once you do, they will hold on to that emotion for a very long time. The vulnerable, are grudge holders. (leo). But like I've said, Mikey bounces back. What a character does has an effect on his emotions, but it doesn't make a lasting impression.
Forgiveness is another thing people like to push on him. It is not that Mikey forgives people easily, it's just that he doesn't hold grudges. He neither forgives nor forgets, but he does not ruminate. He's generally affable, first impressions seem to be a big part of how he views people. He is idealistic, and doesn't assume people are unchanging and/or evil, but he's not a mark.
Mikey isn't so much as naive or overly trusting… it's just that he's inexperienced. He doesn't get fooled by anyone in the series except meat sweats, and that's because Meatsweats is on Todd drugs. Mikey just didn't notice when he started faking. He's not… actually all that aware of people's emotional states, passively. He has to tune in to notice things like that.
Mikey isn't someone who really tries to regulate others emotions, either. The fandom like to make Mikey afraid of his brothers fighting and others being upset, but Mikey doesn't actually care. The most distressed we ever see him in a fight is in the movie, and he's not SCARED, he's just concerned (and then alarmed once it turned physical). If anything, outside extenuating circumstances (like the movie), Mikey actually seems to find their fights annoying.
(Mikey actually seems to have a pretty short fuse, but his bounciness doesn't really let it linger very long, lmao)
(One pet peeve of fandom Mikey is the constant crying, crying at fights, crying at insults, crying for no reason all the time. Sure, he tears up when he gets emotional, but when Mikey is genuinely crying It's when he's desperate, like when he's hungry, or when he's trying to save Leo from certain doom. Same thing, really.)
Mikey respects no one (we love him for this). He admires people, he admires his family: April, the turtles, his dad, Lou Jitsu. He admires Rupert Swaggert, but he respects none of them. No one is sacrosanct to the Mikey.
Above all, the way we write characters is to give them a past that informs how they act now. We view Mikey and the other turtles as teenagers that were kids, and that will be adults. Yes they all have “problematic” traits, but 1) good characters need flaws, and controversial traits are one of the best to use, and 2) they're teenagers, don't expect adult behaviors from them, also don't expect them to be kids. They're minors, not toddlers.
This is getting as long enough as it is, so we'll stop here, but this is a very broad overview of how we characterize him. There's a lot we didn't cover here, but if we even started on hobbies, or the real minutia of his quirks and ticks, or even how he feels about other specific characters... we'd be here all day. So I hope this is good enough lol
If there was something you wanted to know in particular, you'll need to get specific. Feel free to ask again ahahh
#residual asks#rottmnt#rottmnt michelangelo#rise mikey#side note:#do not write the characters based on archetypes ah la heroes journey/hero with a thousand faces#(john campbell is a racist sexist pos)#hollywood was ruined by the attempts to copy Star Wars ad infintium#everyone thank co-author for deleting all my vitriol#i am full of rage and too many opinions on the show and how people handle the characters#but co-author is a patient soul who has removed all my dumbassery and wrote half of this#thank you co-author we love you#honestly there is so much i want to include here but i didn't want to make you wait longer than this ahahahah#if any of you want our stuff on the other characters you'll have to ask for them separately#and then wait a week or two lmao#also we have a list of mikeys verbal ticks if you want#ough.. writing words give me tummy ache
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wilson’s hypothesis. gregory house
🥼🩺 | according to wilson, house likes you and you like him. so, house confronts you with wilson’s hyposthesis.
masterlist: greg house n all
warnings/tags! fluff of sorts, angst if you squint, talks of self-sabotage, idiots in love, sherlocked reference!!! (just watched 8x18—house self-sabotages so bad my lord)
author's note: lowkey hate this but it's idk what're we thinking fellow ducklings???
"wilson thinks i like you," house airs.
you throw him a strange glance.
"crazy, right?"
"yeah? and you think i like cameron," you mimic, matching his dismissive detachment to comedic effect.
only, house is serious.
“no, wilson thinks i like you.” house ignores your joke, repeating wilson’s solemn hypothesis.
when you pause to look at his face, your mind goes off into complete nonsense like's just tipped you over and left you with internal bleeding in your brain, upon the realization that he does, in fact, mean those words he's telling you.
"what makes him say that?"
"i'm apparently connecting with you,” house indulges, relaxing into the cold bit of wall behind him. the moonlight hits him in a more subtle way, half hidden in the shadows. the blue of his wrinkled shirt melts into the glow it radiates.
you're not particularly sure what to say. thankfully, he elaborates.
“you share your food with me, i take your food, ergo it means something in wilson's romantic world,” house offers, before quickly dismissing the thought of his supposed feelings for you. "but you know wilson, he's always been a romantic. thinks he can diagnose emotions as easily as diseases."
you consider the argument, "well couldn't that just mean i can't finish my food and you don't wanna get your own?"
he squints at you, as if with drills for eyes. you're playing dumb, unless you really believe that. but you don't.
you clear your throat, "well, do you believe that?"
"well it's either that or i must obviously like you."
you gawk. "well, do you?"
"do i have to spell it out for you?"
"wilson had to," you snark back. "so, do you?"
"no," he says with a flat face.
something in your chest drops, just as your brows shoot up. "no?"
"no," he reaffirms.
you don't know if you manage to catch your frown. house doesn't say anything if you didn't. you're more than a little embarrassed, surely flushed. you're thankful that the two of you are under the dim veil of night.
"well good thing," you grumble.
house looks at you with a curious look, as if he was almost offended you would say that. "good thing?"
“we’re both lonely. lonely means self-sabotage,” you explain, fiddling with one of the main trinkets that line the ledge. you were sure you proving your point, coming up with an off-putting rationale to cover up your embarrassment. "two self-saboteurs, well, that's an equation with proven unresolved issues... so yeah, good thing."
you were internally cringing at the words you were spitting out, but you were trying to play it cool. it's something that's never worked in your favour though when you were near an attractive guy, and you always swore this was to make them repulse the inkling of interest. and you swore off doing this years ago, but the blunt rejection, if you could call it that, sprung the teenager out of you.
then again, house affects you like that. blue eyes and blue shirt and all.
he makes it no secret that he's a ladies' man, often hitching hookers into the hospital despite cuddy's gentle parenting to make him stop. but house does whatever he wants in the hospital, hence all the lawsuits you've had to deal with.
when you look at him again, he's somehow uncharacteristically quiet. you're unsure if his speculative eyes are because of a lightbulb moment, but one thing's for sure: he was thinking.
"you're thinking, aren't you?" you glean in a tilt.
house doesn't say anything, but turns away from you. when he does, you're unsure if you see his lip curl in disappointment—he hides it too well. some part of you hopes, but you know you're not his type. a bit too much like him in the overanalyzing and overthinking.
and maybe you're convincing yourself, but realistically speaking, your happy arrangement of sharing food in the middle of a hospital shift may work for lonely and misery, but not for anything else. two people who like self-sabotage is like a dumpster fire.
you'd rather have house like this, happy and alarmingly blue.
"aaand you've stopped listening. i shall take that as my cue to leave," you announce, hopping off the ledge in the same ginger fashion you had waltzing in.
when you land your feet, house airs his deduction, nodding along as if he was finally making sense of you and wilson’s hypothesis.
“maybe he’s onto something.”
you turn to him with a tinge of a worrisome brow.
“who knows? maybe i’ve been sending subtle signals that even i’m not aware of. so what do you think?” he croons his head, all ominous, arriving to a conclusion. you can practically see the cogs turn in his brain. “you like me.”
"i never said that.”
house looks at you, rising in a smooth motion, as if to showcase his towering height, forcing you to look up at him. sitting down, he's not so large, but now, all you can think is that he's tall.
"you might not, but your body does," he croons, dangerous smirk playing about his face. his eyes probe your face, confidently with a proven theory. "pupils dilated..."
house grabs your wrist, eyes practically lighting up in delight at his impending diagnosis.
"…and pulse elevated. i understand that wilson thinks that love's a mystery to me, but the chemistry's incredibly simple," he says, softening his grip on you.
house doesn't let go, lingering in this proximity, leaning closer like some ghost and spirit you'll always look for. your breath hitches, but house doesn't afford you time to quite think, capturing your lips in a kiss that you reciprocate, clutching onto his arms for balance.
you feel one of his hand snake to the nook of your back, pushing you flush against him. house keeps his other hand cupping your cheek and jaw, large enough to cover that expanse of your face. it's a little dry and rough, but you don't mind, all too preoccupied with his lips.
house makes good work on you. his lips are even better than you'd imagine, but you finally register his words and what you were doing, so you pull away. the furrow of your brows returning, apprehensive about his next words.
you whisper, “i thought you didn't like me.”
"i was lying," he shrugs. "i needed to see if i was right, and i was."
"so you figured me out?"
"you like me,” house concludes, triumphant. “i was right.”
“i thought this was wilson’s hypothesis?” you cock a brow.
“hypothesis,” he nods before flicking your head. “but i can’t give him the credit for my diagnosis.”
you let out an airy laugh, relieved that he didn't make you spell it out for him. "you're an ass, you know?"
his eyes are proudly heralding trumpets. you could practically hear the victory going off them.
"it comes with the sitting arrangement."
#house md#gregory house#gregory house x reader#greg house#greg house x reader#house md x reader#house md fic#gregory house x you#gregory house fic#dr house#hugh laurie#netflix#fluff#slight angst#james wilson#dr wilson#james wilson fic#james wilson x you#james wilson x reader
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So hear me out: it’s dark and very dingy in simons apartment, even more so when he’s go his equally as sleazy friends over. They sit around a rounded table with bottles of whiskey and beer (they are all very large they can drink plenty without feeling it) playing a card game and smoking. Only to hear frantic tapping on the door and a soft voice calling for Simon.
It’s you of course when he opens the door, scared and anxious and practically shaking, and it’s then that he sees what’s gotten you so frightened. There’s a strange man swaggering through the hallway after you slurring your name with a broken bottle in hand.
Simon tugs you into his apartment with a tank and closes the door behind you. He’s going to take care of the mean man who scared you so, but first, meet his old military buddies. They’ve been dying to meet you ;)
Oh my god yes :((
Simon's apartament is...just as dark, bleak and dingy as its owner and probably just like the rest of the building. Not all lights work, it's walls are chipping from the cheap plaster, the wallpaper is peeling off at the top, yellowing with age and cigarette smoke, the floor is creaky too; a very unpleasant, dark and cold place with few things intact and yes it becomes somehow even more dodgy when his ex-military friends arrive for poker and cheap alcohol.
He boasted a while ago that a cute girl moved in next door that's not a druggie or one that looks like a train wreck; it's clear that you don't belong here but you have few options and this is your best one. Tragic, really but that gives Simon an opportunity to stare and (discreetly) feel the pretty lady up. Since that time Gaz, Price and Johnny can't give up on you, often slurring after a few beers how they want to meet you and squeeze all the soft places.
Unknowingly to them, the opportunity to meet you came sooner than later when one cold night they were as usual gathered in Simon's dingy flat, playing poker and throwing around crude jokes when suddenly there came a soft knocking on the door with a voice calling out to Simon if he could please open up.
They shot up like bloodhounds even in their intoxicated states and they watched as the blonde walked to the door. There stood you, clad in those pretty pastel pink pajamas and a zip-up hoodie, trembling with tears in your eyes making the hairs on the back of Simon's neck stand up.
Before you could say anything there was a loud crash coming from the floor below and a loud, slurring voice calling out your name whoch made you jump and flinch in fright and without even asking what's going on, he pulled you roughly inside and closed the door with a bang.
You were clearly shaken up, stumbling over your words but he managed to put together something about this one pushy guy from the ground floor whom you helped out once and now he doesn't want to let you be.
Oh sweet girl how could he ever say no to you, especially in circumstances like this? Of course you can stay here, in fact he insists that you stay the rest of the night. It's Saturday tomorrow, you have off so one one will care if you sleep in a bit. Not to mention that his friends are here too! And they are so excited to meet you, you wouldn't say no to them right? Especially since they are all big, burly military men, they will surely protect you better than anyone!
You can hear various deep voices jeering and whooping, calling out to Simon to show them the little lost lamb and while you're still shaken from the events from outside, you feel like whatever haplens here isn't that much better, especially with the huge, scarred man's hand placed dangerously low on your back :((
#kin speaks#asks#interactions#sleazy neighbour!ghost#cod x reader#cod mw x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#141 x reader#simon riley cod#simon ghost riley#simon riley
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Booo-merang Trouble DP x DC Idea
Okay but leeching off the idea that Jason gives off an ecto-signature, and I probably saw a post about this somewhere. I just for the love of me can't find it. If anyone knows it, please link it so I can credit!:
Jason isn't even on patrol, he's visiting the manor. His chilling, eating away at lunch. He doesn't come to the manor often, but he always needs a dose of his crazy family every once in a while. There's no way he'd stay away from Alred's cookies for long.
Then boom, something shatters the window behind him. On instinct, Jason moves. Taking cover and trying to get a sight of the situation. Of the perceived attack. However, before Jason could do much a heavy object rams into his chest before landing on the ground before him. It doesn't really hurt, nothing compared to his prior injuries.
A boomerang. A glowing green and silver boomerang laid on the ground before him. Jason's a million and one ways confused as he stared at the device. His hands carefully picking it up, and looking over the softly beeping device.
Jason thinks maybe it's a bomb, but something in his gut says otherwise. He can think of a million different things it could be. Maybe one of the rogues got a hold of their DNA, and it tracked them. Maybe it's going to expel a gas any moment, an attack on the Waynes rather than their vigilante personas.
Except it's none of that. The beeping stops and suddenly a robotic voice sounds from the boomerang.
"Ghost located, prepare for your end ghoul."
Jason tenses once again at the clear threat in those words. His gaze scans around the kitchen, still crouched behind the kitchen counter. Except nothing happens.
Except for a voice ringing out from the boomerang once again. This time, this time it's not a robot. It's a clear record of a young woman speaking. Her voice filled with fear, concern, and urgency.
"Okay, this should work right? You know what, that doesn't matter. No one but you should have a signature. Beside's Tucker thinks he set this up to go to you only. So Danny, you should be hearing this..."
Jason only finds himself more confused. The urgency in this girl's voice was enough to keep his nerves on edge. It sounded important, but Jason had no clue who these people are. Who these names could be refering to.
"Danny... Things here aren't doing to good. Look, I know why you left. You have every reason to. What mom and dad did... It's unforgivable and I don't expect you to come back. But, thing is..."
There's a lull in the recording. The distant sound of soft chatting. If Jason strained his ears, he could somewhat pick of the sound of another woman and man.
"Everyone thinks Phantom is dead. Which I would think is a good thing, but it's not. Danny, the GIW is on a rampage now that you aren't here. Mom and dad are on their side..."
Jason made the conclusion that the speaker was this Danny's sister. The message was intended for him, yet it somehow landed in Jason's lap.
"They have everyone locked up in the school... Radars to see if anyone has a signature, and if they do... They separate them from everyone else."
Jason's brows furrowed, finally pulling himself to a stand. He placed the boomerang on the kitchen counter. Leaning forward as he took in the words.
"We don't know what they are doing. Sam, Tucker, and Valerie... We're all hiding. We'll have the highest signatures, and... Listen Danny..."
Jason had a growing pit in his gut. He knew something wasn't right. These people were in danger. It didn't matter he didn't know about what, or who the GIW was, but these people needed help.
"... We need you. We need Phantom, baby bro. I'm sorry, I know you're still recovering. We can handle things here, but please. Please tell me you're still alive, you're in Gotham right? Tell me you're safe, and you're healing and still kicking Danny."
Jason swallowed, placing his hands flat on the kitchen counter. He needed to get this down to the cave. Have the computer tracked where it came from. But Jason couldn't move, not at the sound of pure desperation in this woman's voice.
"I just need to know you at least made it out of this nightmare. I don't care how you do it, just please let me know things are okay... They have... They have Vlad, Danny. Things are complicated, and I hate to put this on you... But Amity needs Phantom..."
The recorded suddenly broke into static, but Jason thinks he got enough of what he needed. Amity. The place these people were was called Amity. It gave him a lead, something for them to work with.
"Da... We... Help... They..."
Jason could hear the woman's voice breaking through the static. He gripped the boomerang, turning on his heels and heading towards the cave.
"Sam... Mom... Tech... I..."
Every broken word only fueled Jason's own urgency. Jason felt a strange urge, a connection. Something that told him he had to help. They needed to help. The boomerang found him, and that had to mean something.
"... I love you, Danny..."
Those four words were the clearest compared to rhe rest of it. It made Jason's heart seize, and he took a breath. He was going to help.
It didn't matter if Jason didn't know these people. If they weren't from Gotham. This was important, and something told Jason he needed to find this Danny.
Danny would be the only one that would know that to do. If Jason manages to rewind the recording, he was certain Bruce would be equally on board.
That voice, the emotions that dripped from it. It gave the sense that this wasn't just life or death. This was a world ending problem.
And Jason would be damned if he ignored it.
#danny phantom#fandom things#fandom#multi fandom blog#fanfiction#dc x dp#dp#dpxdc#dc jason todd#jason todd#red hood#batfamily#the batfamily#danny phantom batman#dc batman#batman#bruce wayne#Jason has an ecto-signature#Danny ran away to Gotham to heal from parental trauma#Team phantom are the only ones that know this#so Tucker reworked the boomerang#Jazz recorded the message#and it was meant for no one else but Danny#whoospies#jazz fenton#sam manson#tucker foley#team phantom#guys in white
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do you have any tips for eating pussy !!!!
BOY DO I
i feel like i have to put a corporate disclaimer so i don’t get sued, but obviously not everyone likes getting their pussy ate the same way and it’s good to talk to a partner about what they like and dislike. that being said i often get stellar feedback on my pussy eating (i literally changed my girlfriend’s mind about getting their pussy ate 😈)
first off, forget probably everything you’ve seen in porn. if someone could watch you eating pussy and see your tongue then you’re doing it wrong (unless you’re in the first few minutes and warming up or like taking a tiny breather) otherwise if you’re getting down to business then your face should be drowning in the pussy.
second, forget all the kitschy shit you hear. no one is actually getting off to someone spelling out the alphabet on their clit. finding a consistent rhythm is key and it’s usually something incredibly simple. i opt for up and down because i can go longer with that motion and it tends to get a better reaction than side to side (but i do throw a little of that in there). also when i say up and down i don’t mean like a flicking motion. do not flick the clit with your tongue. you’re rubbing it not flicking it, so keep your tongue flat and just rub it up and down (or side to side whatever you’re going with). the other most important thing i can say is SUCK THEIR CLIT. start soft if you don’t know how sensitive their clit is and then ramp it up if you’re getting positive feedback. save this for a little flare, i wouldn’t usually stay sucking it for more than a few seconds.
okay now that i’ve gone over technique, let’s put it all together. start of slow, really show that you’re giving the pussy all your attention and not just doing it because you feel obligated. lick the whole length, stick your tongue in their vagina, suck on the labia, have fun with it! get to know the pussy you’re about to go to town on! then when you’re ready to get down to business start focusing more on the clit and setting a steady rhythm. maybe start getting a little faster but as soon as you hear “right there” or they start pulling your hair DONT ALTER YOUR PACE. i think a common mistake is people hear that and get excited and start going faster but the whole point is you just had the right tempo and now you’ve changed it. also if your jaw starts hurting (as mine often does) but you don’t want to stop, i would suggest try moving your whole head up and down to give your jaw a break.
last but certainly not least, my personal favorite move is to give the g-spot some attention while you’re down there. use a finger or two (or three if you’re feeling spicy) and do the come hither motion while you’re working on their clit, and i can almost guarantee that you’ll have that person seeing the light
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Do you have any tips for drawing noses? Sorry this is out of nowhere but I'm wanting to improve on my art, specifically the faces, and it's always the nose I find myself struggling most with.
I really struggle w making it fit the face if that makes sense? Every time I try to add it it just throws the whole face off, especially the eyes, not to mention how to make different nose types and the angles </33
I love your art style so bad, it's so smooth and satisfying to look at and the way you draw noses like it's nbd (and anatomy in general like damn) baffles me so I was just wondering if you maybe had any tricks or not, Ty either way for sharing your art in the first place <33
@extravagav Well I can try! First off thank you very much, I often feel like I still have a very long way to go in regards to proportions and anatomy so I really appreciate your kind words <3
Hokay, so, noses. I do love noses. To start off when it comes to drawing noses I'm afraid I'm going to have to give you the most annoying advice in the world which is just to practice a lot. Find a lot of pictures of noses in a bunch of different shapes from a bunch of different angles and just draw them until your brain melts out of your ears. Pay particular attention though to the nose as a 3D object!
It's of course trickier to do than I'm making it out to be but the more you practice at imagining the nose as a 3d physical form the easier it becomes to make a nose model in your mind that you can rotate like a microwave.
This is my personal very very basic understanding of the nose's construction:
it's like three circles and a taco shell.
Okay so now that you've got a basic understanding of the nose's construction, how to put it in the middle of the god-dang face??
So the funky thing about noses is that they tend to change shape the least out of all our facial features when we're making expressions. Our eyes change shape, our mouths move, our eyebrows, our cheeks, our jaws, they all go all over the place. the nose, however, tends to be pretty stationary and doesn't deform much (save in one important way I'll get to later). So because of all this, and here's my biggest piece of advice when it comes to making the nose fit in the face, I like to draw the nose first! I do a very loose head construction, draw the nose, and then sort of "hang" the rest of the features off of it:
Two very different expressions, same nose!
Now when it comes to noses interacting specifically with the eyes the greatest thing to remember is that the part of the nose that sits between the eyes sticks out farther than you might think, and will likely be obscuring one of them, the extent of which depending a lot on the angle and how pronounced the nose bridge is.
for someone with a pretty flat nose bridge you'll be able to see most of the eye except in a more extreme angle, while someone with a protruding ridge might obscure the eye entirely. but the nose will likely be interacting with at least one eye if we're not facing the character head on. Really making your brain think in 3d is gonna most helpful here.
Finally! The nose being expressive! So the main way the nose plays in to expression is by wrinkling. the muscles that pull up your top lip and the muscles that pull down the middle of your forehead are almost all connected to the nose, so the nose tends to develop a lot of wrinkles whenever brows are furrowed or teeth are bared.
Adding those wrinkles can add a lot of impact in the expression! And not just angry ones neither:
Sooooooooooooooo yeah! noses! They're weird and they come in all sorts of shapes and sizes and they can do a lot to add character to a face and they can also make you want to tear your hair out in big clumps! I'm still learning myself when it comes to noses (and most other things) and I'm faaaar from a master at it, but I hope I've been able to provide at least a little bit of help. If you do use my advice going forward please let me know! Good luck!!!!! (And here's all my nose "headcanons" for the strawhats. The ones who actually have human noses, anyway):
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