#talkin fic shop

[owlbelly]

tragediegh

Awhhh that tag just made me so happy lol that's a thing I fret over so much you just reassured me lots lol 😭 it really can be a such a balance to keep it in tone while also sexy lol 😅

for real it's like the #1 reason i bounce off otherwise well-written fic - i'm just so invested in what i'm reading sounding like the canon material so when there's a huge discrepancy when you get to the porn, it jolts me. you handle it SO well in OCACD it's like actually moved the bar for me & has me wanting to explore getting a little more playful with it.

one of my all-time favorite pieces of fanfiction is Prizes Over Discovery, a novel-length Master and Commander fic that follows from the movie (which is my only real Aubrey-Maturin point of reference, it's just one of my favorite movies) but it's written in a period style that matches both the script & (as i understand it) the books? & there manages to be sex in it that's 100% believable in that style. i don't ever want to read those actual books i literally only want to reread POD every couple of years, which i do

anyway yes it's a thing that matters a lot to me & you really knock it out of the park (the latest chapter was so hot WHEW)!

[reidmania]

I MISS YOU IM SORRY | spencer reid

good riddance x spencer reid one shot series masterlist!!

summary; Spencer calls after being broken up for a month.

warnings ; fem reader, hopeful/happy ending, angst, exes to lovers, mentions of arguments, breakups, miscommunication, avoidant reader, loving spencer, break up bc reader pushed him away bc of self doubt, pretty tame. i love this i think

an ; RAHH fic twoooooo ehehehe. risk is coming soon i just had to pump out the angst really quick ok bare w me!!

You said, "Forever, " in the end I fought it Please be honest, are we better for it? Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called And said, "I miss you", I caught it. You said, "Forever, " and I almost bought it I miss fightin' in your old apartment. Breakin' dishes when you're disappointed. I still love you, I promise. Nothin' happened in the way I wanted. Every corner of this house is haunted And I know you said that we're not talkin' But I miss you, I'm sorry

The call came as a shock. When you were holding onto the doors of your pantry, leaning back slightly as your eyes skimmed over the contents of it — Which was not a lot. You we’re thinking about that fact you needed to go grocery shopping.

How long could you avoid that?

It started right after you and Spencer broke up, where you refused to go because of the chance that you might see Spencer there. It was right between yours and his apartment so the chances weren’t completely low — and normally you and Spencer did the grocery shopping together.

It would normally consist of you dancing around the store picking up random things and Spencer watching you fondly as he pushed the cart. He would mutter something about what was healthiest and you would hum approvingly then grab the opposite of whatever he suggest because it ‘tasted better’ He would chuckle and press his lips to the top of your head.

You wanted to relive that so bad that the idea of being inside the shops without him seemed so wrong. It felt like doing something behind his back. Like watching an episode of the show you two were watching together without him. It just felt wrong.

So you decided you would go to a different shop, an hour drive away. Just to be safe, but who just had time for that?

Which was how your pantry had gotten near empty.

You still had the big bag of his coffee beans that he left here. The ones you weren’t a fan of buy it didn’t matter because Spencer would compromise and just buy both, or just yours. You had use all of yours and started using the ones he left here.

They left a bitter taste on your tongue and a sweet sensation down the back of your throat, they were strong and kept you awake for hours longer than your normal ones did — but weirdly enough; they felt like home.

The bag was brand-less, and you should’ve memorised what it was you were sure you knew. You just couldn’t remember.

How were you suppose to ask? Call him? Message him? Pop by his house and ask. You were sure if he got any soft of contact from you— about anything, you would be blocked in milliseconds. The feeling that thought provided made your stomach tighten more than you’d like to admit.

You almost stumbled over your own feet when you closed the pantry as your phone started to ring, you saw it light up with a contact but your mind paid little attention as you answered, not even actually looking at your phone, your attention elsewhere.

“Hello?” You muttered as you walked towards the coffee machine you and Spencer had decided to get as an anniversary present. To fuel both your coffee addictions. You shoulder held your phone against your ear as you grabbed the bag of coffee beans — Spencers coffee beans.

You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone, “Hey.” The voice. His voice. Tired and groggy as if he had just woken up but you knew him well enough to know he didn’t. You pulled your phone away from your ear as your mind clouded foggy. Your eyes danced over his contact for a moment. He was calling you — He called you. it sent familiar butterflies to your ribcage.

“Spencer?” You exhaled, despite already knowing it was him. You wondered if maybe this was some prank, if he was just calling because he needed something or maybe to call you and degrade you over every mistake you made in the ending of your relationship — you deserved that.

He had every right to hate you for how things ended, he had every right to hate you, period. You had assumed that was how he felt towards you. Hatred. You knew he loved you throughout your relationship, that wasn’t something you had to question but the idea of that still being the case after everything unfolded the way it did.. It didn’t even seem fathomable.

“Hi” He repeated. His voice was low and quiet, you didn’t know what that meant and it was driving you insane. Your feet pattered around the house suddenly feeling cold in the kitchen. Nothing but memories fogging your mind every corner you looked — that didn’t go away as you moved around the house. It was filled by him and it was consuming you whole. 

You let out a heavy breath. “Do you need something?” It didn’t come out how you wanted it to. It wasn’t harsh or anything but your voice weakened half way through your words making embarrassment creep up the back of your neck.

The other side of the phone was silent for a minute, making anxiety pool in your stomach. Your head tilted as you sat on the corner of the couch, wrapping yourself in the blanket on the couch — the one you used more often than you’d like to admit, since some night sleeping in the bed that was suppose to be shared with Spencer felt all too consuming, the way his scent lingered faintly over the sheets and his little nothings covered the window sill, his jacket still hung up in the closet.

“Spence are you okay?” The nickname fell from your lips before you could try to stop it. You heard a muffled sound on the other end of the phone making your stomach twist. Slight worry and confusion filled the wrinkles by your eyes as you squinted slightly.

“Ye- Im.. Im okay” He breathed out his voice heavy and filled with something you couldn’t place if you tried. You were sure it was an emotion you had felt since you felt a sick feeling of familiarity in your abdomen. “I just- Can we talk?” He asked.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your knees pulled to your chest. “Okay. What do you want to talk about?” You asked, in your mind there was a point to this conversation, there was something specific he needed to talk to you about or why else would he call. He wouldn’t, you thought.

“No-Not like that, i just- I just want to talk to you, about anything. Whatever you want I just—” There was a pause, his voice got quiet, almost a whisper, “I miss you.” The words that left his lips buried themselves deep inside your chest, building themselves a home there.

Your head span. He said it so quietly you were scared you might’ve missed it if he said it any quieter. But you didn’t, you caught it. A deep breath left your chest as your hand came to your forehead, your mind was so focused on the fact that, he missed you. He called because he missed you. You almost forgot to answer him. You figured if he said the comment so quietly, maybe he didn’t want a reply on it, so you continued on with the conversation as the words interfered with the rhythmic beating of your heart.

“What coffee beans to do you buy?” You settled on. You heard him chuckle on the other side of the phone before passing a comment asking ‘why? You hated them’ It made your heart flutter uncomfortablely. The two of you continued talking about coffee beans for ten minutes before he muttered about how he had to go, you knew it was probably work related. But god he sounded so sad saying it.

“Spencer?” You asked softly, your voice coming out quieter than what you expected. You heard his soft hum on the other side of the phone. You didn’t want to admit how much you missed him, how your entire being craved him every minute of everyday regardless of what you did — nothing in the world could fill the him-shaped- hole that took up the space of your gut.

“I’m sorry” You apologised and you hoped it was clear you were apologising for everything, for the arguments, for the breakup, for pushing him away for no real good reason beside your own self doubt. It was the sorry you were too proud to mutter out a month ago.

There was a moment on the other side of the phone where you were almost convinced he was going to hang up — you worried you brought up what he didn’t want to talk about.

But instead, “I miss you.” He said louder this time, as if he believed you didn’t hear it the first time. The words made your stomach clench tightly and your muscles both tighten and relax at the same time.

You sigh, you should have shut up. He had to go, you know that but the words came out honestly as “I still love you” You said. You wanted to slap yourself in the face, now you really weren’t gonna be surprised if he hung up and blocked you.

There was a heavy breath, you couldn’t tell if it was good or bad. “Well-“ He huffed, “If you still love me, and- I still love you..” He muttered out intentionally, hoping you caught on to what he was insinuating. Your mind however was captivated by the fact that, he still loved you.

“We should probably talk” He finished when you didn’t, “Please?” It was thrown in there both to use manners and to show how badly he wanted this. You weren’t ever gonna say no in the first place.

“We should. Do you need to go grocery shopping?” You asked, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you almost smiled. You could almost imagine his confusion.

“Um— I guess that depends —Do you?” He asked. You huffed out a small laugh, nodding your head absentmindedly as you realised he couldn’t see you. “Do you still go to-“

He cut you off, “No. No i started going to the one across town, about an hour away” He said, honestly. You head tilted slightly as you realised he started going to the one you were going to. The conversation continued as you both ignored — or forgot the fact he needed to go.

“Why?”

“So you didn’t feel uncomfortable if I was there when you were” He said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. It made your stomach scrunch up and your chest to bruise your ribcage as the beating of your heart only increased.

“Let’s go grocery shopping, at our shop. Then um— you can come here and I can make you coffee?” You suggested slightly awkwardly, as you worried about the chance of rejection and the embarrassment you would feel.

“It’s a date.” He smiled, you could hear it in his voice.

“Okay.” You exhaled out.

[bunnys-kisses]

bright as the morning

simon "ghost" riley

cw: plus sized!reader, smut, pwp, body worship, possessive behavior, jealousy, age (early 20s/mid 30s), simon can pretty much bench-press you, oral sex, missionary the mating press

bunny says: like fic? leave a comment! really like the fic? request your own! (title inspired by hozier's 'too sweet')

there was a period of time you thought you were ugly. you thought guys either ignored you or made comments because of your size. the sight of you made them gag and they'd rather be single than date you. even now with more confidence, you still couldn't believe when men hit on you.

you were waiting for your boyfriend at the mechanic's shop. you were in nothing too special, just wanted to join simon as he got his car. but you were adamantly listening to a mechanic around your age talk your ear off about cars. you thought he was just being nice.

but then you felt the presence of your boyfriend. the air got cold when he was near and he looked over you like a shadow, "the car's here."

you looked over and smiled up at your lover. he took your hand in his hand and headed away from the mechanic. you tried to keep in pace with him but his strides were just too big. then in front of the car, he looked over at he other man and pulled you close to him and kissed you through his mask.

"my doll." he said quietly, "was he causin' ya any problems?"

you looked up at him and shook his head, "nope. he was just being nice."

he chuckled, "yeah... nice. let's get ya home, i heard you were makin' me somethin' special for dinner." then pulled away but kept his eyes on you.

you smiled, "it's canned soup, simon." and turned away to get to the other side of the car. you could feel his heavy gaze on you as you got into the vehicle. simon got in soon after, you didn't even notice the look he gaze the other man as he put his hand on your thigh.

he pulled away for a moment to put the keys in the ignition, but it was soon back on your thigh as he pulled away and headed home. the entire way home, his large hand was on your thigh. his strong fingers squeezed a little at their softness.

"are you okay?" you asked as you looked to him. you placed a hand over his, the roughness of his knuckled brushed against you palm.

"fine, love." he said gruffly.

you sighed, "i know you better than you know yourself then. tell me, did the mechanic over change you?"

"nah." he said, "just some punk talkin' to my girl."

you raised an eyebrows, "simon. he was just being sweet. nothing to be jealous over." you patted his shoulder and continued to look at him.

he replied, "after all these years, ya still don't know how beautiful you are." then looked over quickly to reach over and pinch your round cheek, "prettiest damn girl i've ever seen."

-

simon knew exactly how he was going to show how beautiful he thought you were. he liked how your thighs touched together, he loved the roundness of your face. he loved how you felt in his arms. you never held a gun, you never had to starve while on missions. you were content with the life you led up to that point. it wasn't marked by violence. you were safe enough to be a little softer around the middle, and simon though it was beautiful.

even if all your personality was extracted, he would still worship you like a devotee. worshiped your softness, kiss the plush skin. perfect.

you were in your bedroom and simon had you in his arms. he was pulling the t-shirt over your head. you wiggled out of it and helped him get off your body. he dropped the shirts then felt you up, his hard grasp lingered around your arms. he toyed with your breasts and groaned to himself.

his mask had long since been taken off. you could see the scarring on his lower face. as he played with your curves, you leaned up and kissed him on the scar on his chin.

he sighed contently, "he can't have this. only me." he let out a short chuckle through his nose before he went in for the deep kiss. he thought of the young mechanic who was trying to hit on you. it wasn't that he couldn't believe that someone would flirt with you, he just didn't get that someone couldn't see that you were already a taken woman!

no one else was allowed to flirt with him, but him!

he soon dropped to his knees and pulled your pants down. then soon your underwear followed to around your ankles. he spread your thighs a little and dipped his head between your legs.

you let out a small noise and tangled your hands in his blond hair. your face felt aflame from his attention. you said, "simon!"

he chuckled, "too sweet." he kissed your thigh, "too sweet for me." then continued to orally pleasure you. he felt his soft thighs in his hands was a feeling that made him excitement.

you quivered a little and he held you up against him. you held onto his hand as his tongue lapped against your clit. you tasted like a dream, while a weaker man would expect his girl to taste like candy. but the nature taste of your wetness made his cock strain in his jeans.

"shit... simon." you whimpered.

he continued to lick at your sweet pussy and marveled in the sounds that you made. it was music to his ears as he heard you. he wanted to make sure you knew how good you looked to him.

a lesser man would ignore you for your size, but what did they know. simon knew better, he was a real man. and he loved a partner who was soft. meant it let him protect you.

he pulled away and looked up at you with wetness staining his chin. he said, 'c'mon, love. get those legs around my head." and then slowly got you up on his shoulders with your pussy right in his face once more.

he held you up by your lower back and continued to pleasure you orally. when he hit a sweet spot, your thighs clenched around his head. he made sure you were secure up there. perfect against him as made you feel good.

and with your hands in his hair, he felt amazing. his cock strained against his pants as he held you up. he often told you that it was like a bag of grapes when he picked you up. he was trained to hold up a lot more, so it was quite easy for him to pick you up.

you yelped from the sensation of his tongue on you, you panted as you held his head tighter. his forehead up against your stomach. it was a sore spot to acknowledge, but he knew how to make every inch of you feel special. even if you were insecure.

"always mine, doll." he said softly, his kisses littered the soft skin of your cunt. his touches were forms of worship across your back. he was a devotee to the religion of your love. he remembered the first time he made you orgasm on his fingers, he felt the thump in his chest. his cold heart shattered into a beating organ.

he had found a life post-war. something beyond blood and conflict. a place he could nestle his aching bones and rest. you had opened your heart and home to him, and he would be forever grateful.

it often shocked him that you weren't the most confident woman to ever exist. but he'd just have to show his worship every day until you believed it too.

he raked his blunt nails down your back side and over your ass before he held onto you lower back once more and tried to get as deep as he could against your cunt.

"please!" you whimpered, "i can't cum like this."

he said something then smacked your ass. he groaned between your thighs. it was his mission now to make sure you came on his tongue. he could hold you up all day if he had to. he felt you tense up and his assault on your clit gave way for you to hold onto him tightly and kicked out your legs as you finished on his tongue.

he chuckled as he got up slowly and headed to the bed. he placed you down gently and gazed at your naked body. simon saw the birth of venus painting when in a mission in italy. but he could believe he was seeing it for a second time when he looked at you.

you looked up at him, your face felt hot as you rubbed your wet thighs together. you didn't know what to do with your hands so you held onto the covers under you as you watched your boyfriend strip down into nothing.

that strong body, with a little more insulation than when you first met. but he was strong and imposing. he could still kill as effectively as he could when he was in the military. you swallowed and covered your face.

"don't hide from me. i want to see it all." he said as he gazed down at you.

you moved up the bed and he got on top of you. he handled you easily and with care. he loved the feeling of your softness against him. you felt like a dream, a warm heat he could find comfort in.

he didn't want anyone else to have you. he wanted you all to himself. to enjoy and love. to make him feel complete as he rubbed his cock up against your slit him holding your legs.

"i love you."

"i love you too."

he continued to rub up against you, teasing your pussy before he sank his length into you. he was tempted to pin you down to the bed, but he liked when you got all shy. he found in endearing when he made you blush so much that you hide yourself from him.

"do you like that?"

"love it."

he then slipped his cock into you, he sank in easily thanks to all his work on your pussy. he held your legs up as he pushed in fully. he exhaled deeply as he felt the air leave his chest.

you tried to kick out your legs once more but he kept them pinned to him as he started to rock back and forth. he moved against you, letting your wetness give him access to the deepest parts of you.

he moved against you and you held onto the bed under you.

"you look amazing." he said, "i wanted to kill that guy for talkin' to ya. i want you, and i want you all to myself. you're too perfect. all mine."

you looked at him and replied, you breathed deeply, "i only want you too, simon. i wouldn't want anyone else." you felt yourself get dragged as he got off the bed and held you up by the hips a she pushed down into your cock which almost left you in a mating press.

you felt your stomach in your throat as he pushed down into you. the sounds of sex filled the air as the two of you fucked on the bed you shared.

"i think you're just perfect." he said, "no other girlie like you. you make me wanna be a good man."

you replied innocently, "you are a good man." if you only you knew what he had done before he met you. he leaned forward and kissed you once more which squished your further.

he thrusted into you at a quick but steady pace. he watched your face changed the more he brought you pleasure. you were a sight to behold in front of him. he watched your body move against him, your curves shake with his movements.

you two fucked on the bed, well at the edge of the bed. it wasn't long however before you two felt close to orgasm. he cotninued to thrust into your body, he loved the feeling of the two of you against one another. it was a comforting feeling.

he thought you were sexy, but also a place of comfort for him. a place where he could rest his head and find content with life. he just thought you were amazing. the perfect woman.

with another hard thrust, he finished inside of you. and soon you clamped around his cock and came around it. you held onto the covers for support as he railed you. once you were over the tip of your orgasm, you felt the fight leave your body.

you both got to the top of the bed and cuddled in each other's arms naked. he rubbed your curves and kissed at your neck. he could feel the sweat on your neck. he sighed contently.

"simon."

"yes, love."

"you really do think i'm pretty?'

"i don't think you're pretty. i think every woman should be jealous of you." he chuckled softly as his lips went into your hair where he buried his nose in your strands. you were his mornings, afternoons and evenings, and no snot nosed mechanic is going to get in the way of that. <3

xoxo, bunny

[melinoe-dearest09]

Helooo there, i would like to request a batfam x batsis fic in which she is the most recent addition to the family, and all of them are trying really hard to get her to warm up to them( having a game nights, going shopping, going to the arcade ex...) on one of these outings, they are stormed by the paparazzi, which in turn overwhelms her, and she gets a panic attack, then cue the protective big brothers who help her through it.

That's as far as I've thought on this. I hope it makes sense to you. ( You can change some of the details if you'd like) Have a nice day / night.

Of course! I didn't know how old you wanted her but I made her younger than Damian. (Damian is 14 here) Thanks for the request <3

The brothers always tried when they got a new sibling. They knew how hard it was to adjust to the Wayne style of life. But usually it didn't take very long. You were a special case.

Your bio parents were part of the nobility of Gotham. They went to all the parties and did all the rich people things. You didn't. In fact no one knew who you were until your parents died. They kept you locked up in your room and never really let you out of the house.

When your parents died (car crash) police went to the house to inform the staff. Instead they were met with a young girl who looked very malnourished and abused. The police took all normal steps after that. Taking you to the hospital and then trying to put you into foster care. Of course the news found out and plastered it everywhere. "Tragic death of the L/N result in finding of secret Daughter". Of course the news station was missing some of the important information like you wellbeing but this was enough to catch Bruce's eye. After he found out how you where treated though? The adoption papers where already signed. You were now a Wayne.

As of now you had been at the Manor for a month. The boys were trying really hard to get you to warm up to them. Dick had taken you shopping multiple times, Tim tried helping you with your school work (especially since you hadn't ever gone to school), and Jason took you to the Arcade. Even Damian was trying! He would try to get you to paint with him or go out with him and Jon. But you weren't responding to any of them. You mostly stayed in your room or stuck around Alfred. Heck you hadn't even said a word to them. They were starting to get desperate.

"Damian" Bruce called. "Can you got get Y/n from her room. Dick is taking all of you shopping for the upcoming gala."

Damian rolled his eyes at the mention of the gala but complied "Yes father."

When you were all ready you headed out. Dick thought it would be a good idea to shop for the gala then go catch lunch or see a movie.

"I'm not even gonna show up to this stupid thing anyway. So the hell do I have to be here?" Jason complained.

"We hare having sibling bonding time. And this is going to be Y/n's first gala! So we all have to make sure she looks super pretty! Like a little princess!" Dick said happily.

At the mention, Jason looked over to you nervously "You sure it's a good idea for the kid to go to a gala? She hasn't even talked to us. How's she gonna talk to other people?" He asked. He looked back over to were you stood. Tim was on one side trying to talk to you while Damian stood on the other looking at suits. You were just staring at Tim and occasionally nodding. "See. She's not even talkin to Tim and he spends the most time with her. Not to mention the brat is closer in age to her and she hasn't said a word to him either." Jason pointed out.

Dick decided to ignore this "What about this Suit."

"Too Flashy disco Dave. But seriously-"

"Jason she be fiiine." Dick says quickly. Jason didn't believe thus for one second but he was tired of arguing with Dick. So he let it rest.

Later after they had all found a suitable outfit you all went to grab lunch. "Y/n is there any place you want to go to?" Tim asks. You shrug. All the boys sigh hoping you would answer.

"Brothers. We might have a slight problem." Damian says. They look to where he is pointing and all think the same thing. 'Shit'. Paparazzi start to flood them from all sides. They all start yelling questions and taking pictures. They boys try and move around you so you aren't seen but it's to late. Suddenly you are pulled from the boys and the crowd closes in on you. The question become louder the, flashes from cameras brighter, and you stand there in the middle helpless. You've never experienced this before and very fast it becomes too much. You feel you chest become tighter and your breathing become faster but it feels like you aren't getting any air in your lungs.

They boys are frantically trying to get through the crowd but they are also getting bombarded with questions. Finally Damian breaks through to you and sees you staring at the ground clutching your chest. "Y/n..." he slowly approaches you lowering his voice. You look up at him tears filling your eyes as you gasp for air. "Hey hey hey it's okay don't worry I'm here. The others are coming...it's okay." He turns to look for the others and sees Jason break through the crowd. He takes one look at you and starts trying to clear a path. The others see this and try to help. Damian scoops you up and starts to carry you through this makeshift path. Then quickly runs for the nearest store. He sets you down then starts to calm you down.

"Hey Y/n look at me...follow my breathing okay...in....and out...in....and out" Damian says calmly. You listen to what he says and start to calm down. The other boys come in and stand around making sure no one can see you. When you start to breath normally again Jason asks "You feelin better kid?" You look up at him "Y-yeah..." They look shocked for a second then smile. "That's good little sis." Jason responds. Tim moves to your other side. "How about we go home? Alfred can make us some food? That okay?" You nod "Can he make mac n cheese?"

"Yeah sis. You can have mac n cheese."

[quixotical-lymbo]

Hi! For a request how about a small fic with everyone trying to help Wukong confess his feelings to fem Reader

🍜 - tysm for requesting! hope you enjoy :) Warnings/Tags: MK and co shenanigans, fluff, humor, and kissing.  Word Count: 1800+ words

"So, what's your deal?" 

"Hm?" Wukong sipped on his drink. 

"I mean, when are you gonna tell her that you like her?" 

Cue the monkey king choking on a straw while his successor pats him on the back. 

"Wha…what are you talking about, bud? Tell who?" Wukong wiped his mouth as he turned to look flabbergasted at his apparent heir. 

"Y'know who I'm talkin' abouttttt," MK drawled as he nudged his elbow against Wukong a few times. "It's so painfully obvious that you like her and her buns."

"I really don't know what you're…PF-PAH-ACK!" Wukong slammed his fist against his sternum a few times. "Her what?!"

MK rolled his eyes as he gestured to the rest of his friend group crowding around a festival game stand, you included. 

It was another festival that MK and co decided to spend some quality time together at, but what surprised the gang further was the inclusion of the monkey king. Although some seem less enthusiastic about his presence than others coughpigsycough. 

"You've been staring at her butt for the past…five…fifteen minutes? I didn't notice until you hadn't blinked at all until I spoke to you." 

"I was not! I was…observing the booth." 

"I'm sometimes stupid, but I'm not dumb! I know what I saw and I say nuh-uh!" 

"Yuh-huh!" 

"Nuh-" 

"What the heck are you two arguin' about?" Pigsy's voice boomed. MK and Wukong snapped their heads to look at the rest of the group staring back at them. Wukong's face felt hot underneath your questioning stare, but your smile made him gulp. Of course, MK had to notice this little reaction of his mentor. 

"Nothingggg, right, teach?" MK smugly lounged against the bench and turned to look at his mentor who glared back at him. 

"...right."

"Great! I saw some shooting games up ahead, wanna come with?" Mei butted in and yanked him off of the bench before he could say yes.

As MK was dragged off, he pointed two fingers at his eyes before pointing them back at Wukong. 

Great, they were totally gonna have a talk about this later. 

—🍑—

It hadn't even been a day before MK along with Mei and Tang ambushed Wukong. Apparently, operation 'monkey-see-monkey-do' involved them trying to set him up with you. Currently, the four of them were huddled around a few papers scattered on the floor of Pigsy's shop. 

 "Okay! Phase one of getting our friend to realize that monkey king likes her-" 

 "-Allegedly-" 

 "-and then phase two is to make her like him? What if she secretly hates his guts-?" 

 "-Allegedly-" 

 "-sorry, MK, but phase three isn't making a lot of sense in the grand scheme of things…like what do you mean by getting paint, flowers, and…oil?" 

 "Ugh, you guys! Just trust me okay! I got this-!" 

 "-Allegedly-" 

 "-SHUT UP!" 

—🍑—

As the bright sun shone on Megapolis, you were relaxing at a park sitting at the base of a tree. The cool shade provided by the foliage above along with the current temperature made for a perfect day to spend it outside. You slumped against the tree, your legs stretched in front of you on the blanket you laid out as your arms rested on your stomach. 

Truly, you were at peace. 

SNAP!

Your eyes shot open as your eyes focused on the familiar figure of the monkey king hanging off a tree branch using his tail. Not only that, but a bouquet of flowers were hanging from his closed fist, hanging just a few inches away from your face.

"...monkey king?" You exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" 

"Oh…about that-...I'm…uh," Wukong scratched the back of his head as his eyes flickered wildly in search of an answer. "Sightseeing! Yepp, I was just hanging around, saw you and decided to say hi?" 

"Right…" You chuckled. "It's nice to see you, how have you been?" 

"Good, good," Wukong's strained grin eased into a small curve. "I see you're having fun." 

"I am, ah…are those a souvenir or…?" 

"Hm? Oh, these?" Wukong glanced at the wild flowers in his hands before offering them to you. "Actually, they're for you." 

"Aww, you shouldn't have-" Your gaze softened as you reached for the flowers. Before you could take them, Wukong was tackled out of nowhere and disappeared from sight. You could have sworn you saw a flash of green and yellow go by, but you shrugged before lying back against the tree. 

  Later….

"What the heck was that for?" 

"There was a freakin' hornet in those!" 

"Yeah! If MK hadn't seen 'em you two would've been toast!" 

Phase One: FAILURE. 

—🍑—

You were holding a few bags of groceries as you made your way home. It was a boring week of working, doing mundane chores, and barely having time to hangout with your friends. Perhaps visiting Pigsy's shop was in order for tomorrow. 

A soft grin etched itself on your face as you rounded the corner only to bump into something hard and fuzzy. 

"Ah, sorry-...monkey king?" You glanced up to see the familiar orange simian smiling down at you. Your eyes slowly trailed from his face to the black-and-white suit that donned his figure, your cheeks felt warm as you noticed that the 'wall' you collided with was the unbuttoned part of his suit showing off his chest—and those bulging pecs barely being held back by the buttons-

Calm yourself, jeez. 

"Hey there, whatcha doin' out here all alone?" Wukong purred. You quirked a brow at how...odd the monkey king sounded. It seemed familiar but you couldn't place why the voice sounded like someone else you know.

"Going home after getting some stuff I need, nothing much," You answered after snapping out of your stupor. You coughed into your free fist before clearing your throat. "So, uh, what are you doing here all alone?"

"Oh, you know, stuff," Wukong replied as he suddenly pushed himself off of the building he leaned against and began…flexing? 

"...uh-huh…well, you look nice," You squint your eyes at the display–not that you were complaining that much about seeing his muscle flex under the fancy clothes. 

"Heh, thanks, you're looking mighty fine yourself," Wukong winked before shooting finger guns at you. 

"Thank you," You had the sudden feeling of being watched.

"Y'know what else is looking fine? Those tight pants hugging your-"

Wukong was snatched up by a flurry of greens and oranges before you could blink. 

You stared at the empty space where 'Wukong' once stood, your eyes surveying the nearly desolate streets before shrugging and continuing your walk back home.

The next day when you showed up at the noodle shop, Pigsy claimed that MK had taken a sick day off from work. 

Phase Two: FAILURE…?

—🍑—

"Ok, ok, clearly something isn't working." 

"Duh, Mei, everything was a bust." 

"Perhaps there is something we're missing, maybe if we refer to the books I've acquired-"

"-guys, guys, enough!" Wukong stood up from the huddle circle. "Look, as much as I appreciate your help, I've entertained this long enough and I think it's time for me to take the reins on this one, okay?" 

"But-" MK started but was cut off by Tang's hand on his shoulder. MK glanced between Mei's nod and Tang's smile before nodding at his mentor. "-okay! But you have to share the deets later!"

"Sure, bud," Wukong sighed in relief before heading out to find you. 

Finally, it was time. 

—🍑—

You wiped your hands down the front of your apron, the dust of the flour caused your nose to twitch as you headed toward the sink to wash the rest of it off. The window seated above the sink was left ajar, allowing the chirps of birds and crickets to bring the ambiance of the late afternoon inside of your home.

You were humming a small tune to yourself, eye closed as the pleasant daydream compelled a sigh from you. 

Tap, tap, tap. 

The repetitive raps against glass made you raise your gaze from the sink and laugh as you were met with the sight of Wukong's face squished against the glass of your window.

"Monkey King? What are you-...know what? Come to my balcony," You pointed behind you before flicking the rest of the droplets off and heading over to open the sliding door. Wukong met you there and stepped inside, his eyes wandering the unfamiliar space that was yours. 

"Before you say anything," Wukong pulled something out of nowhere and handed it to you. You peered into his palm and gasped at the bracelet adorned with your favorite colors and gemstones/trinkets. "I thought if I can come willy-nilly into your home, why not let you come over to mine some time? It's basically a free pass to come to my cave anytime you want if that wasn't already clear." 

You glanced up from the piece of jewelry and rose a brow at the king's offer. "This isn't another one of MK's wonderful 'plans' is it? I think I've had enough of you showing me your disappearing act multiple times." 

"..ah, yeah, I-" Wukong paused as he allowed your words to process for a moment. His tail shot up as the hairs on the appendage bristled. "You know about that?!" 

"Phase one, phase two, and-..." You pivoted on your heel, reaching for your phone on the couch before showing Wukong the texts you received from Pigsy. "-phase three? Mhm, I know everything." 

"Even the butt stuff?" 

"The what-" 

"-so you know that I…that we…geez," Wukong cursed Pigsy under his breath as he walked over to the couch to sit. "Look, I don't blame you if you don't want me around after all that, I kinda was a nuisance, huh?" 

You were silent for a few seconds before shaking your head while a smile grew on your lips. You took a seat next to Wukong, the aforementioned monkey jumped when you placed a hand on his thigh and took the bracelet from him to place on your wrist. Wukong watched you place it on, his eyes trailing over your somewhat messy appearance, but it only added more to your charm. 

He liked the sight of you disheveled and filthy. The wonderful, flawed, and beautifully imperfect you. The fact you were comfortable around him like that made his chest squeeze. In a good way of course. 

"Does that answer your question?" You asked as you held your wrist up to inspect the accessory against your skin. 

"Hmm, dunno, maybe something else might help convince me," Wukong finally relaxed and turned his head to the side to gesture to his cheek. 

You rolled your eyes before guiding his face to yours and pressing a quick kiss on his lips. You could feel the mystic monkey's smile against your lips before breaking the kiss. Wukong managed to squeeze another peck in before you completely pulled away, "...guess I'll be staying for dinner?"

You answered with another kiss.  

🍜 - I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!

[panthrology]

ok first off love the geto fic!!!!! but i was thinking geto checking readers attitude. shes been on one all day and he just is finally over it. (maybe pussy slapping if comfortable with)

hii ‼️ thank you so much, appreciate the love from everyone 🙈☺️ MWAH

context

cw : pussy slapping & brat taming. that's it tbh.

but yeah anon I hear ya. though since suguru's generally on the more chill side, I don't feel like he'd brat tame you in a way that's more hands on..at first.

in fact I think his way of brat taming you is simply doing nothing in your favor until you cave.

I doubt he'd mind at first, simply taking the unnecessary arguments, eyerolls, and snide comments all day. maybe even return your energy back a little.

but as time goes on his patience would thin, and your bad attitude would gradually start to piss him off. love takes patience, he knows that much; but when you bug him about this, or that in an argumentative manner with no valid reason, he finds you difficult to put up with.

especially after that little stunt you pulled last night.

“hey.” suguru interrupts your meaningless rant about him buying almond milk instead of regular milk and blah blah blah. if you really gave a fuck, you would've joined him on the grocery shopping.

“is this what we're doin’ right now?”

the ambiguity of his question makes you falter, meeting his gaze which..seems to be unusually intense.

“what?” your face scrunches up in confusion, “what are you even talkin’ about?”

oh, okay. he tongues the inside of his cheek slightly, it's milk for christ's sake.

“don't be like that. you know damn well that you need to fix that attitude and calm down.”

you scoff, not believing that your attitude is the most irksome.

“yeah, ‘cause my attitude is the biggest problem right now. don't piss me off suguru—you can't avoid and evade with your nonchalance out of this one.”

oh.

okay.

“it's like I gotta discipline you like a little girl, d'you even think about that?”

suguru asks, voice breathless as he watches you from above. arm slung over the back of the couch and you—kneeling between his spread knees and gagging with his cock stretching your mouth. “but I bet you didn't even do that. can't think with dick down your throat, can you?”

he sees the dip in your brow and grins, taking pleasure in the current power imbalance between you both. he could get used to this.

but as you raise your head to argue again, he simply keeps a firm hand atop your head, forcing you to take him down deeper. “..it'd be in your best interest not to argue with me, sweetheart.”

fine, you sharply inhale through your nostrils. if you ignore the sodden panties sticking to your skin—pussy calling for his name in morse code, you think you can soften him up a bit.

you suck him, slowly but surely while your hands stroke where your lips can't reach, your challenging gaze meeting suguru's own.

he keeps his hand firm on your head, lips parted and head tilted back against the sofa, making sure he keeps your mouth fully occupied. his toes curl inwards under his socks when you begin to bob your head, pleasure liquifying his legs.

you make a gargled noise when his bulbous tip nudges the back of your throat, reaching another hand further down—right down to give his balls a gentle squeeze.

“fuuckk—mhmm..you know what I like,” he moans in appreciation before closing his fist around your hair in a makeshift ponytail and yanks you off of him. “alright, enough. get up here.”

that didn't take very long, you think.

wiping your mouth from the spit and his pre, you rise with wobbly knees and plop next to him on the couch. he spreads your thighs in no time at all, kneeling between them. you sigh, sinking into the couch while your lids slip shut. waiting for his touch.

but nothing comes.

when you reopen your eyes, a smug suguru stares back at you and even lets a little chuckle slip. “funny how you just assumed that i’d give you what you want after your poor attitude.” suguru's eyes twinkle with amusement, tracing light touches against the gentle curve of your abdomen. gentle, soft, nowhere near enough.

“god, suguru, please! i said i was sorry.” frustration creeps into your tone, and you toss your head back onto the armrest.

“did you?” that simple question and the look he gives you makes you question yourself, the realisation that you in fact did not hit you like a truck.

shamefully, you avert your gaze. “..sorry.”

yet all you get is a head shake from suguru, lips pursed in a thin line, trace, trace, trace.

“the nerve. all that rudeness ‘n for what? i’m nothing but good to you..”

he trails off, observing the way your skin rises when his feather-like touch grazes your belly button, dipping his fingers lower to tug your underwear all the way down, flicking it off your ankle. “i still don't know where you get the audacity.” he smirks.

your pulse quickens, watching the way his knuckles brush against your inner thigh, going up, up.

you feel it before you hear it—a swift ‘smack!’ against your bare cunt has you whimpering and seizing up. the pain knocks you off your guard, before it bleeds into pleasure, the new feeling making you completely disoriented.

once suguru sees your shocked, wide-eyed gaze, his ego swells and he folds his arms, staring you down as if he were daring you to say anything—to backtalk him again.

beats of silence pass and the weight of what suguru just did barely has time to sink in before he does it again. it's wetter this time and has more momentum. the collision you makes your hips jolt violently, and your legs hike up to your chest as you flinch and cry out his name. hot tears slip from their confines and roll down your cheeks.

suguru, however, is having a time. he brings his hand up to the dim lighting of the room, watching your glistening slick coat his fingertips and palm before he speaks, his tone almost scrutinising.

“of course, you'd get wet from me rightfully putting you in your place. nasty girl,” he purrs before popping two fingers into his mouth, the familiar taste of you flooding his senses.

“sugu—” you choke on a little sob, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. you can still feel the sting right on your clit.

“i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry. won't happen again.”

“yeah, it will. you're not foolin’ anybody here.” suguru rolls his eyes, swiping his forefinger against your swollen nub and your legs jitter at the contact. “y'know this is what happens to brats who can't check themselves, right?” he asks rhetorically.

he meets your gaze. “and I like to think that I have a good girl, who can behave in a way that doesn't have to make me do things like this.”

you nod weakly.

“thats what I know.” he nods once and pulls away. “i'll think about accepting your apology, but that depends on how well you can make me cum.” you hate to hear it. it takes everything in you not to groan or roll your eyes..but your heart jumps at the chance of redemption.

“c'mon then, on your knees pretty.”

© NEPTNSZN 2024 ★ please do NOT copy, repost or modify my pieces, apply credit when necessary.

[liyawritesss]

ᴀꜱ ᴡᴇ ᴅᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇ, ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴋɪꜱꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ

Characters: Spider-Verse!Earth-42!Miles Morales [The Prowler] x Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 1.7k

Synopsis: Sometimes Miles just wants to sway with you in the middle of his bedroom while R&B music plays in the background.

Warnings: Cursing, 15+ Miles here, keep it cute this is lil cuz we talkin’ bout here!!!

A/N: My first (and possibly only) attempt at 42!Miles Morales. Idk, thought it would be something cute…might make a 1610!Miles Morales counterpart lol.

Song Suggestions: “Close” by Ella Mai, “Lotus Flower Bomb” by Wale ft. Miguel, “Love Don’t Change” by Jeremih

Tags: @6-noir @babyboiboyega @badass-dora-milaje @jacuzziwaters @mbakuetshurisprincess @shuriszn @verachii @writingintheshadowsforever @cafehyunji @niyahwrites @pantherheart @marsfunzon22 @movie-enthusiast22 @famedrs-blog @briology @honeybleed

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“Do you think this fits okay?”

His lights are set to the lavender color setting on his LED lights that line the top ceiling corners of his room, though the lamp on his desk also provides warm white light to contrast against it. Miles looks up from his phone conversation with his uncle to glance at your figure standing in front of the mirror attached to the back of his door as your gaze analyzes the new pair of leggings adorning your legs.

“They look perfect, bella.” Miles responds, the amused lilt in his voice nearly blowing over your head when you hear him speak. Though, to Miles, anything you wear is perfect in his eyes. Your lips jut out in a pout as you continue to examine your bottom half dressed in the black leggings, debating on if you’d gotten the right size to accentuate your curves the way you want them to.

The leggings were just one of many items that laid in various shopping bags that littered Miles’ floor, currently. From LuLuLemon to Victoria’s Secret to Fashion Nova, Miles can certainly say that he’s made up for his impromptu disappearance before your date night the night prior.

He didn’t mean for last night to happen, truly. He knew you really wanted to see that movie. It was the last night it was playing in theaters, too, and you were so excited when you managed to find tickets to the last showing, and proposed the date idea to him. Miles admits that he was interested in the proposition, not just because you had proposed it, but because the mere mention of it got you so worked up that he truly believed it to be worth it.

So, to make up for not only bailing on the date, but also going ghost for much the prior night as well, he picked you up for an impromptu day at the mall. It wasn’t an easy feat, Miles admits, convincing you to allow him to make it up to you in this way. He felt guilty for inadvertently crushing your hopes, and you’d felt even more guilty about taking the new date offer that required him to spend his money.

“I’m tryna make it up to you.” He’d said

“Miles, I said it was fine-” you’d said.

“-but it’s not, though.” He’d interjected.

“You had…stuff to do,” you’d whispered to him, “I can’t expect you to drop everything at my beck and call, and I know what I signed up for when we started dating.”

If someone told Miles that four months ago he’d start dating the pretty girl who always slept through their shared mathematics class, he’d surely look at you as if you’d just grown a second head. He still doesn’t know what attracted him to you in the first place - how pretty you looked asleep at your desk, or the fact that even though you’d be knocked out the second you took your seat, if the teacher happened to call on you for a question, you managed to answer it correctly every time. 

You’d quickly became his first and, as it stands, only friend at Visions Academy. Soon enough, you’d also became aware of his double persona, though if Miles had it his way, he would have kept you in the dark for as long as possible. It wasn’t easy, juggling the duality of the life he lived. The less people close to him, the easier the job was. Well, unless the person was you.

You were like a piece of gum stuck under a desk - an ever looming presence, never disappearing; but like the candy before being discarded, you were also sweet, refreshing, comforting. Miles wanted to make this work for the both of you. He’d grown too fond of you to let you slip out of his life like sand from the beach.

“So that mean you just accept whatever you get?” Miles asks, eyebrows raised again. “Nah, we don’t do that around here.”

Unfortunately, there was no fighting against Miles when he had his mind made up.

So you entertained his proposition, though not without a fight. You made sure that the boy bought some things for himself as well, and even managed to sneak in a few items for his mother (which, in all honesty, he didn’t need much convincing for - it was his mother, after all). So, granted, not all of the bags on the floor were yours, so it made you feel a bit better about Miles splurging on you as an apology.

He watches as you shift through a tiny black and pink bag with the V.S. initials printed in cursive on the side, fishing out a bottle of soft purple body mist that Miles would recognize anywhere. He’d recognize it because it was his favorite scent that you frequently bought from the clothing chain. He could never tire of the lavender and jasmine that calmed his mind and relaxed his body whenever you were around, or put him to sleep whenever the two of you cuddled together.

The familiar spritz spritz sound echoes throughout his room, fading into the old school R&B that currently plays in the living room area where his mom is having company over. The mist settles into the cloth of your sweatshirt - his sweatshirt, actually -  and into your skin, before he watches your feet carry you closer to him.

“Don’t tell me you sprayed that just to come and hug me?” He says, though his body straightens at the edge of the bed, phone becoming a distant memory as he tucks it into his hoodie pocket.

You shrug, a playful smile spreads to your lips as you step between his legs, hands coming to cup his cheeks, “shut up, you know you like it.”

He didn’t have to admit that he loved it - a lazy hand coming to rest at the back of your knee was enough proof of it.

“Why you tryna be like me,” the brown skin boy hums, sucking his teeth and deflecting the conversation from the truthful statement, “always stealin’ my clothes ‘nd shit.”

“Same reason why half of my scrunchie jar is gone,” you tease back, “I gave you one, Miles, and now I’m missing, like, ten of ‘em.”

“I’on know what you talkin’ ‘bout.” 

“Of course you don’t.”

At some point, the same hand that rested behind your knee crept up to your waist as his head pressed into your stomach, the smell of your perfume drawing him closer. It lulled him into a state of security; however, it was swiftly ruined when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He’s sure that it’s Aaron.

He takes the phone out and it opens up to his text messages almost immediately when his face comes into view. The ominous intent behind the words ‘hold on’ in blue bubbles makes his stomach tighten.

You feel it, too. The shift in his demeanor can be felt when you stand this close to him. “Was it Aaron?”

His phone becomes discarded on the bed while his other arm raises up, and both wrap around your frame while he buries his head into your stomach inhaling the perfume etched into the fabric there. “Yeah.”

One hand goes to rub soothing circles on his clothed back, the other caresses the nape of his neck, holding him close, for the reality of it all was that he could have to leave at any moment.

The slightly muffled music from the living room shifts to another song and it sparks a lightbulb in your head. 

Your hands go to gently pry Miles’ hands from your body. He raises his head in question, before being tugged to his feet by you as well. You reposition his arms around your waist, and yours find their place around his neck, and after a few seconds, it clicks for him.

“You’re so corny.” He voices, muffled by the position his face takes in the crevice of your neck, nose tickled by the goddess braids that rested against your shoulders.

“Shut up,” you lightly scold, “just sway with me, idiot.”

The richness of the singer’s voice gives Miles’ body more than enough incentive to lean from side to side in a slow motion, taking you in his arms with him as he does so. You fully expect for him to pull away or grumble at the proposition, yet, you’re not completely surprised when he simply gives in to your direction. Perhaps he desires the same closeness you do in this moment, you think.

Miles feels himself smiling when the touch of your hand graces his cheek, thumb swiping comforting strokes along his skin. He hums at the touch, his grip tightening in the slightest around your waist. Is he too young to wish for this all the time?

His phone buzzes in his pocket again, his brown hand fishes for the device and glances down at the text message once more. The pit in his stomach fades away when he reads the words ‘no need. good 4 2nite’ from his uncle in blue. Miles lets out a short breath, pockets his phone, and sinks back into your touch. 

He’s thankful that there seems to be no need for the Prowler on the streets tonight. Perhaps he can rest in peace.

Miles’ taken from his thoughts when he feels your lips graze across his cheek. “Everything good?”

He feels a smile spread across his lips. “Yeah, we good,” he hums, returning the affection.

Neither of you even notice that another person has entered the room, until the sound of someone clearing their throat echoes throughout the walls. Miles looks up from your shoulder to see his mother standing in the doorway, a content yet melancholic look on her face.

“If you kids want something to eat, there’s leftovers from me and the girls, bien?”

The hand that was once on his cheek now hides your face from his mother’s prying, knowing eyes, and it emits a chuckle from the older woman.

“Bueno, mami, we’ll get some later.” Miles replies before Rio leaves, making sure to leave the door ajar just the slightest.

Though, neither of you are ready to part, even at the prospect of food. So Miles returns to the warmth of your neck, your hand returning to caress the side of his face as he molds himself back into you, and the two of you continue to sway to the music, content in your own little world.

If you enjoyed, please leave a like, comment, and reblog for others to see! And don’t be shy to send in a request!

[zeltqz]

Hey this is my first time requesting , can you make a angst where hanma treats his girlfriend ( reader ) like shit and cheats on her constantly and the reader loves him so much , but one day reader decides to leave without telling shuji and just leaves a note in their shared apartment and when hanma sees it he realises that he treated reader harshly and tries to find her to apologise but reader doesn't care anymore . Make it angsty pls , sorry if it's too long

a long request calls for a long fic haha

enjoy this 8k long ass fic mwahhhhh

feckless | hanma shuji

/ˈfɛkləs/ lacking initiative or strength of character; irresponsible.

pairing. fwb!hanma x fem!reader

featuring. kazutora hanemiya, hinata tachibana, hanma shuji, takemichi hanagaki

word count. 8.5k

content. hurt/comfort, angst, one sided pining, weed mention, smoking, explicit sexual content, toxic relationship with hanma, he ghosts you alot, and you just take it, low self esteem reader

This particular Thursday afternoon, the sun shines blindingly bright, warming your back as you kick a stone in front of you every step you make. It’s not a far walk to your house from the mall; shopping bags in one hand, phone in the other.

As the sun is setting, the streets are partially empty, minus the few cars driving past, and the silence is deafening.

You stop just at the end of the road, seeing traffic building up across the road towards your house. They must be doing more construction.

With a hefty sigh, you turn the other way, walking down a thick alleyway that runs behind your street. This is only a route you take when you’re in desperate needs. Though it’s much faster than the main street, it’s also smellier and darker. 

You stop in your tracks and that’s when you see it.

A few grunts, thuds, and the sound of what is definitely a fist punching someone in the stomach. The poor guy, around seventeen, maybe, if his school uniform was anything to go off of, was now laying on the floor, clutching his stomach, groaning in pain as someone much taller, lankier, makes a show of dropping to sit on his back.

He idly smokes a cigarette like he isn’t currently stopping the flow of oxygen and blood of the poor guy beneath him.

“How boring ,” he sighs, lifting the cigarette from his lips to blow a puff of smoke into the air. “Thought you’d be able to entertain me with all that shit you was talkin’.”

“I—argh—I can’t breathe—”

“Hmmm,” the guy hums and the sound vibrates through the alley, rippling it’s way through your body. “And what do you expect me to do ‘bout that?”

The boy couldn’t verbally respond, nor formulate a perfect sentence, only able to respond in grunts and groans and the sound of his lungs desperately searching for air.

If you don’t step in, you’d have to live with yourself forever, knowing you just witnessed this man commit a murder and nothing was done about it.

It takes a moment to uncurl your fingers from the shopping bag, your body trembling, feet heavy as your lungs match the jagged, unsteady rhythm of your breathing before you’re walking over towards the man.

Stopping right next to him, it feels like forever until he lazily turns his head to look up at you.

His eyebrow arches, face filled with nothing but interest as he lets his eyes rake down your body.

It’s like he knows he’s making you uncomfortable, because the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a smile when you shift uneasily on your feet.

“And you are?” His voice is slack and lazy, dragging his words on sluggishly as he blinks at you.

It feels like minutes, hours, days have passed with how long it takes your brain to co-operate with you. “I—I’m—”

The poor dude on the floor tries to lift the guy off his back, gathering every inch of strength he has left in his weak body to try shrug him off, but the sadist on top of him only raises his hand (and it is huge, what the fuc—), and slams it down on his head, applying pressure until his chin smacks painfully against the floor.

“Can’t you see the young lady is tryna speak?” He asks him before letting go of his head, removing his cigarette from his lips, holds them with two fingers and you watch as he brings the cigarette in front of his eyes. The orange lit bud at the end sends flickers of ash into the air. “Do your eyes me to burn some energy into ‘em? Huh?”

Your stomach churns distressingly at the mental image painted into your brain. Everything moves in slow motion, he’s moving the cigarette downwards to the man’s eyes before you step in. “Leave him alone! Th—this isn’t funny!”

“It’s not?” He shrugs his shoulders. “It seems pretty fun t’me.” His body twists round to face you, still sitting heavily atop of the man, and it’s surprising how he hasn’t lost his breath yet. “You’re not havin’ fun?”

“No.” Your response comes quickly, more stern that you initially planned, and his eyes widen marginally. “This is sick what you’re doing. Just—let him go.”

He raises his brow again, confused at who you think you are to order him around. Then he notices you aren’t as confident as you make yourself out to be; your hands tremble against the bag you were holding.

Sighing heavily, he stands up and the poor boy lets out the biggest exhale of his life. You���re about to rush over to him and ask if he’s okay but your feet remain planted in place as he walks over to you.

He’s so tall, looming above you that the lump in your throat hardens, making it harder to swallow, and even more harder to speak. You would’ve ran away by now if it wasn’t for the pitiful fact that your feet were heavy, sinking deeper into the ground by the second.

“I let him go free. See?” He looks over his shoulder at the boy who’s struggling to run away with the limited oxygen supply in his lungs. Eventually, he manages to scramble his way out from the alley, leaving the two of you alone. “So, what’re you gunna gimme in exchange?”

“I…do you want money? Because I spent all of it.” His eyes drop downwards to your bag, and you only clutch it harder once you see the glimmer of mischief in his eyes.

“Lemme see.”

“No. It’s mine—hey !” He snatches the bag from what you thought was your tight grip with so much ease it makes you question your strength, and begins rummaging through it.

Your cheeks burn hot as he digs through the bag. Of course the day you had decided to go underwear and bra shopping was the day you get potentially robbed by a hoodlum.

“Oooh,” he hums with glee, his voice doing wonders to stress you out even more. Between his fingertips,  he pulls out a lacy bra, wiggling it in his grasp. “Someone’s naughty.”

“Give it back!” You try to reach for it, but unfortunately for you, he has quicker reflexes—insanely long arms that stretch over his head, and yours. 

It’s almost sickening how amused he is by this situation, watching you jump upwards like a rabbit, desperately trying to get your bra back. Something warm buzzes through his chest, makes him far too interested in seeing how far he can push you before you tip over the edge.

“I like you a lot.” His hand descends and you take this moment to snatch it back quickly, stuffing it inside your bag with a pout.

“Well, I don’t like you,” you spit back, glaring at him as hard as you can because who (???) does he think he is. 

“You’re going to.” He leans forward until you’re stepping backwards to avoid him.

His hand darts out, grabs the back of your head and before you know it, his lips are on yours, sucking obscenly at your bottom lip till you feel it swelling. He’s kissing you quick and fast, and you barely have time to react, not when his tongue shoves itself deep into your mouth, swirling around yours. He tastes like cigarettes, and the faint smell of tobacco nudges itself into your mouth as he all but sucks the saliva from your tongue with his needy mouth.

Your hands rise to push him off but he’s pulling away before you can.

He smiles down at you, wolfish, and evil, yet boyishly charming, with spit soaked lips. 

Hanma Shuji—he introduces himself as— ends up following you home despite your recurring complaints, telling him to fuck off  and die. He only reponds with a giggle that grates your eardrums everytime the high pitched sound leaves his lips. It’s a miracle you live alone, because your parents would most definitely disown you for bringing someone like him into their house.

“What an adorable home,” he says into your apartment as he steps inside the tiny space.

“Yeah…ok.” You tug your shoes off and leave the door open behind you. “Can you go now?”

He shakes his head with a tut, handing rising to point at the bag on your side. “Not till you gimme a lil’ fashion show.”

“I—” You purse your lips and look down at the bag. The lacy lingerie you bought earlier practically taunts you, making you regret ever leaving your house this morning to go buy it. “Absolutely not! I don’t even know you.”

His face goes blank and he stares at you, unbothered, like he didn’t just ask you for such an outrageous request. “And?”

“And?” You scoff in disbelief at the fact you even have to explain such a simple concept to him. “And, I’m not going to show a stranger my—”

He sighs, long and heavy, and you instantly shut up at the sound. There’s a disappointed look on his face. “And here I thought you were interestin’.”

“Wha—” Your complaint dies in your throat, and you blink dumbly up at the man in front of you. “Y—you thought I was interesting?”

No one’s ever called you interesting before.

He shrugs his shoulders, arms folding across his chest. “No one else woulda had the guts to stop me earlier so yeah , thought you was really interestin’ and different.” His low sigh is filled with nothing but disappointment and you can’t help the hollow feeling in your chest as it slowly eats away at you. “Turns out you’re another borin’ prude like everybody else.”

The gravity of his words hit you like a truck, and you frown slightly, knowing this is how he perceives you. A boring prude. 

Being someone with not a lot of friends, being called boring isn’t something new to you, having heard it almost all your life, you’re practically immune to being affected by it. But being called boring by someone like him seems to hurt more than any other time. Maybe it’s because for a second, he was the only person you met that actually thought you weren’t boring, that you were different than everybody else, that you had enough guts to stand up to him despite trembling the entire time.

Holding onto that thought, you bite your lip and glance back down to your bag, then sigh. “Follow me.”

You kick the door closed and begin to walk to your bedroom. Though you can’t see the feral smile on his face, you can most definitely feel it, as well as the feeling of his eyes shamelessly raking itself down the length of your body from behind as you lead him further into your apartment.

Pushing him onto the bed, you order him to stay there. “I’m going to change.” 

He lays flat on the bed, lounging on it like it’s his own, not even bothering to remove his shoes. You stare at him blankly for a couple seconds when he says, “Go on then.”

Rolling your eyes, you head over to your bathroom and change.

It feels weird, changing for a man you haven’t known for longer than an hour at best, you think as you begin to strip your clothes off. Wearing something this explicit in front of somebody else takes months—maybe even years—of trust and you’re throwing all that away just because he called you interesting. Not even pretty. Interesting.

So far, Hanma’s managed to light a cigarette and is currently smoking it as you step out of the bathroom, standing awkwardly and scratching your arm lightly as you wait for him to say something.

His eyes blink their way down your body, mind and thoughts going wild as his tongue darts out to lick at his lips. “C’mere.”

You take a couple steps forward till you’re beside your bed, toes doing a jittery dance on the soft, fuzzy rug the longer you watch him watch you. His hand moves quickly, tugging you forward onto the bed. 

It’s barely enough time to react, but you stop yourself before you face plant onto the bed. Manhandling you on top of him, his big, warm hands grip onto your hips. A thick cloud of smoke blows into your face, and you cough, swatting at the air. He’s shamelessly dragging his eyes down your neck, pressing light touches to the curve of your breast and softly kneads the cup of the bra into his hand.

Unable to hold back (as much as you try fight it), soft moans leave your mouth, and you have no other choice but to bite your lip to conceal it.

“Little Miss Perfect, hm?” He grins from ear to ear as your face flushes from his touches.

“I’m—um. I’m not perfect.”

“Yes you are.” He’s adjusting you on his lap, and you gasp when he grinds your hips down his erection. The feel of it digs into the curve of your thighs. “Hiding all this from me, huh?”

He’s gesturing to your half naked body, and you frown. “I wasn’t hiding anything—” It’s hard to concentrate on your words when he's running his hands along your body, lower back, then grips firmly onto your ass. “It’s called wearing clothes—”

He kisses your smart mouth before you could finish talking, all rough and eager with his tongue sweeping into your mouth with fervour. His hand rests behind your head, steadily holding you there as he invades your mouth. Mindlessly, your hands reach up to hold the sides of his face, moaning ever so quietly into his mouth. He’s grabbing you by the hair and pulls you backwards before forcing your head up to stare at the ceiling so he can bend down to suck down the column of your throat.

It’s a ticklish feeling, his warm lips against your skin, sucking and biting his way down your body.

“Mmm, flip over f’me.” He watches you shuffle off his lap onto his bed, resting your head against your pillows as you lay on your back.

Picking up the cigarette he dropped on your bedside table, he fits it between his lips once more as he shifts his way between your legs. The sight beneath him makes him groan and digs his palms into the fat of your thighs as he spreads your legs. 

“Remove your bra.”

More smoke fills the air as you sit up to tug the straps of your bra down and off your body, throwing the lacy fabric onto the end of the bed. Seeing your bare tits makes him groan, instatnly reaching out to grab and squeeze painfully at them.

Your face scrunches up as he fondles them, and takes another drag from his cigarette. “You a virgin?”

“No.”

“Hm.” He blows the smoke out and continues to knead your breast, brushing his thumbs past your nipple. “You single?”

Your lip quivers as the ticklish feeling of his thumb rolling your nipple around fills your veins. “Y—yes.”

He nods, blowing another stream of smoke towards you, flicking his thumb across your hardening nub. He watches you, eyes roaming down the rest of your body, pausing at your panties.

With slow deliberation, he spreads your legs apart, grazing his finger down your slit, barely crossing the barrier of the fabric and your folds. Your breath catches at the touch, letting out a stifled moan as he glides two fingers inside you, slowly stretching you open.

At your quick gasp, his eyes glance back up at yours, studying your expression intently, listening for any sounds that might betray the pleasure he brings you.

You lift yourself off the bed, positioning yourself closer to him and he leans down for a deeper kiss. Your legs wrap around his hips, feeling how large he really is compared to what you’ve been used to.

He lays you back flat on your back, he spreads your legs wider and you press your palm against the mattress to steady yourself. Gripping onto your hip, he grinds his cock into your inner thigh, slick against your own dampness.

“Fuck,” he pants heavily, capturing your mouth again, scraping his teeth agaisnt your lower lip.

Nibbling on his tongue, you reach downwards to his crotch, sticking your hand down his pants and twist your hand against his shaft, twirling the sensitive head around. 

His body tenses under your touch. “Are you on birth control?” He asks without looking at you, eyes only on your hands moving inside his pants.

“Yes.”

He clicks his tongue, looking fairly irritated and bored. “Boring.”

A sudden wave of panic flows through you, and you quickly refute your statement. “I mean, yes but I haven’t taken it in a while. Is that…okay?”

He doesn’t seem interested in answering your question. Instead, his breathing grows heavier and heavier as his hips grind into your touch. Grunts occasionally leave his mouth as his muscles tighten as you begin jerking him faster.

Turning your head slightly, you latch onto his collarbone and neck, pressing light kisses into the skin, hot and bothered at the fact he’s this worked up already.

“Just fucking do it,” he whispers harshly, referring to the hickies you so desperately want to leave on his skin. His fingers tese gently at your clit, giving you the thrill you need to suck hard on his neck.

Swallowing dryly, you dig your nails into his shoulder and rub your hand against the thick shaft of his cock faster. Shifting to the side, you bring your forehead to his and run your nose across his sharp jawline. There’s a sharp intake of breath before his grip around your hip relaxes, pulling himself away, he flips positions till you’re straddling him and pulls his cock out to stand tall against your abdomen. 

“Holy shit, baby,” he growls as you slip inside and ride him in earnest. 

He grips onto your hips and holds onto you roughly as he bounces you along his length, impaling you onto his cock. You feel your body tense up as you reach the edge, pushing against his cock in search of release and squeal into his mouth as your fingers work frantically to stroke your clit.

You scream loudly by his ear, louder than you initially planned to, as you climax. There’s no way you expected someone to make you cum so hard in such a short span of time.

Hanma’s holding onto you so tight you can feel every movement of his hips and cock buried deep inside you, hands gripping your waist firmly to prevent you from sliding off. His tongue latches onto the sensitive underside of your breast, licking hungrily and working up at the intensity of your climax until it takes over completely, overriding all rational thoughts and giving into it’s demanding grasps as his cock continues to thrust inside you.

There’s no real sound left in your lungs as you gulp deeply into his mouth, little gasps of his name escaping your lips as your second orgasm hits its peak. 

Hanma’s mouth forms an O against your nipple when you clench around his cock again, running his tongue along your breast and biting at it as you thrash above him, hips stuttering and twitching eractically as your body tries to recover from the overstimulation.

His breathing comes quicker and his heart pounds wilder, filled with nothing but adrenaline, no doubt the cause of the strength of your climax. You tighten your legs around his waist, loving the feeling of  hugging his larger body against yours as his cock plunges relentlessly into yours.

When he thrusts deep inside you again, filling your insides with warmth and fullness, you whimper at the wet squelch of his cum splattering against your walls. 

You flop forwards onto his chest, a droplet of sweat rolling down the side of your face and panting loudly, wanting nothing more than to curl up in his arms.

“That was good,” he murmurs, and you yelp when he smacks your ass playfully.

The smack vibrates along your flesh, sending goosebumps to cover your entire body.

“Was that ‘boring’ enough for you?” You tease, lifting your face from his neck to stare into his eyes.

He shakes his head, rolling his hips upwards to shut you up once more. His fingers reach downwards, rubbing your slit to coat his fingertips with your juices before bringing it up to his lips, and you watch with wide eyes and parted lips as he sucks the wetness off. 

He brushes his lips against yours. “You taste sweet,” he mutters, nipping at your bottom lip.

You shiver, meeting his kisses with your own, pressing into his mouth. 

“Mmm,” he sighs into your mouth, flicking your tongue with his before pulling away to grab his half diminished cigarette from your bedside table and takes a drag from it.

He leans backwards and scoops you up, tucking you beneath his arm as you lay on his chest. A bright smile crosses his features as you snuggle into his bigger body, but then disappears, looking troubled. He shakes his head slightly, eyes darting towards the corner where his discarded clothes lay.

The smell of smoke becomes too much for you and you pull yourself from his arms, wandering to your closet to fetch some clothes. You change into your pyjamas then go grab your clothes from earlier from your bathroom floor and hang them back into your closet.

He watches you with amused eyes. “C’mere.”

Bending up to pick up his remaining clothes, you toss them to the end of your bed and flop back into the bed with him. His eyes rake up and down your body appreciatively, intently focused on your nipples through your shirt, as you crawl in front of him.

“Let’s get some food,” he suggests, reaching over to your drawer to grab a takeout pamphlet.

You both decide on Chinese and eat it sitting on the couch, facing the TV. Hanma slides closer to you on the leather after he’s finished his own food, and rests his hands on your thighs, his gaze lingering on your mouth as you’re in the midst of chewing a spring roll. 

“I wanna bite those pretty lips again,” he says, pulling the chopsticks away from your hands.

“But I’m hungry,” you frown at the idea of your food getting cold because this motherfucker cannot control his erections. 

He leans forward till you’re laying on your back against the couch and grinds his cock against your half spread legs. 

“Just a quickie, I promise.” he whispers before letting out a heavy sigh when he rolls his hips just right against your pussy.

You know from the looks of him, and his personality, that he’s not the type of guy to mean his promises, and you tell him so, watching as his grin broadens, stretching wider and wider until it cracks his cheeks, making his handsome features nearly unrecognizable.

He ends up sleeping over that night and you spend the rest of Saturday with Hanma makes it his job to come over to your house every other weekend late at night. He’s finally found someone that entertains him, and you found someone that thinks you’re entertaining. Sure enough, you have more common sense to know the way he treats you is sub par. You know him showing up in the middle of the night to fuck you isn’t fair but you don’t fight back, just allow him to practically use your body as a cum dumpster.

That’s actually his favourite nickname for you, cumdump (you frowned and complained when you saw yourself as that in his contacts). There’s also: babe, baby, princess, but he doesn’t call you that unless he’s trying to kiss and goad his way into sleeping with you when you’re in a bad mood, and it always feels very condescending. Everytime he makes you cry with his words, or actions, he’s wiping your tears then kissing you softly to calm you down. Once you’re back in his arms, he’s fucking you, maybe two , three more times until he’s satisfied with how much cum he’s left inside you.

He’s outside all the time . As much as you hope it’s an exaggeration, it’s not. The only times you see him is when he wants you to see him. He’s gone a whole month without contacting you before, and it left you crying everytime you click back on your messages with him, refreshing every five seconds to see if he’s responded to the many texts you’ve spammed him with.

Just leave him , your brain tells you; Hina tells you. And you’ve tried. Once, you told Shuji if he leaves for a long period of time again, then it’s over. 

Of course he didn’t take you seriously, so you blocked him. Then after a few weeks, he started texting you from a burner phone.

I miss u

Can I see u?

Everything inside you crumbled when you saw the messages, and he showed up to your house, high, on a Sunday evening. You can’t remember what he saaid, or what he did, but you found yourself kissing him and pulling him into your house. 

The smell of weed was strong as he tore your panties off, devouring your pussy with his lips and fingers before he fucked you, thrusting into you over and over again.

He flips you over onto your stomach, bending you over the armrest, pressing your body down as he fucked his cock into you from behind, grunting and groaning everytime your pussy clenched around his cock.

“Fuck yes, like that!” you yell over and over again, uncaring of the loud volume of your moans and the slap on slap skin ringing through the thin walls of your apartment.

When you came, you hear him holding back noises, eyes shut as he clutches your ass tight, making sure you don’t squirm away as he fills you with as much cum as possible.

That was a week ago, and of course he hasn’t spoken to you since then, nor has he replied to any of your messages.

You wake up to him on a Saturday morning after a drunk night together. His sleeping features are illuminated by the bright sunlight shining through your open windows. Your cheek rests against his shoulder, mouth half-open and his arm is thrown loosely over you.

It feels nice being here, feeling safe and warm in his arms. Even though he left a week ago, he still manages to fill you with joy, arousal and comfort. In fact, it wouldn’t be a lie to say you couldn’t imagine life without him.

You hum absently, yawning as you rub your tired eyes. All those recent incidents have left you feeling all sorts. Everything about him changed, the games he plays and his attitude towards you. How many times have you been used by him and treated like dirt, thrown away like garbage?

You’ll never forget the time he came to your house ready to fuck you with a fresh, red hickey on his neck.

“Who fucking gave you that, Shuji?” You ask suspiciously, removing his wrist to inspect the red mark. “Why do you keep coming here? Are you really interested in me?”

“Does it matter?” He responds with a blank face.

His purple eyes usually sparkled with lust and arrogance, now fuelled with indifference and confusion. For the first time in your life, you felt hollowed out and alone.

“If it didn’t matter, why would I ask?” You retort.

He smiles thinly, tilting his head slightly. His lips part as if to speak, then close again, a slight frown etched onto his brow.

“Are you okay?” You notice and reach up smooth his messy hair back. 

“You talk too fuckin’ much,” he answers, ignoring your offended face to lean forward to press his lips against yours.

At first you hesitated, unsure whether or not he was serious, but he pushes harder, moving his hands to cup your cheeks, thumbs rubbing the delicate skin at your temples.

You instinctively wrap your legs around him, opening your mouth to kiss him back. As you lean into him, he groans, slipping his hands down your sides and clutching at your ass. A moan escapes his throat as his tongue darts into your mouth, forcing your body to twist against his, toes curling as he presses into you, grinding his—what seems so—permanement erection into your pelvis.

You try your best to stay awake while staring at the walls of the motel room he paid for to cheer you up. Staring blankly at the small details, the painted lines that slowly become blurred, blending into one another until they all look the same. It almost looks like black smoke unless you blink and make out certain colours. 

You close your eyes to fixate on Hanma instead, seeing his tattoos, hearing his soothing voice as he whispers naughty things to you, half asleep.

You sigh deeply, scratching your cheek lightly. “Where the hell is my phone?” You say aloud, wincing at the sudden pain in your thighs from being fucked so hard.

Fumbling around the drawer, you grab the first phone and clutch it close to your chest, inhaling sharply when you unlock it. The lockscreen is different and you instantly realise it’s Hanma’s. The phone has no password because it’s his burner, but something tells you to check his messages and see tons of texts and nude pictures sent from a girl to that number.

Swinging your legs off the bed, you scoot backwards and put on your shoes.

A wave of nausea crashes into your stomach, heart lurching painfully in your chest as you feel a cold sweat begin to form along your forehead. Your limbs shake as you cross the room, grab your stuff and clutch the doorknob of the motel. Your steps falter for a moment, but you steady yourself and push through the doors, onto the pavement.

Once you hit the late night streets, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, stomach relaxing, shaky legs returning back to normal.

You hurry past the car park, crowded with cars all over and walk quickly to the corner. You see a bus stop sign inddicating you should walk the opposite direction. Instead of walking south, you turn north, going whichever direction feels right because you honestly have no clue how to get home. There aren’t many people this late at night, only a few people strolling around and there are none on the buses at this hour.

Scanning the buildings along the streets, you keep your gaze alert, looking for any signs that say Harajuku Station.

Eventually, you give up, and pull out your phone, swiping away from Hanma’s messages and clicking on Hina’s contact.

Hey can we meet? I just really need a friend right now. Can you come get me?

Hina responds almost instantly: :) okay! Send me your location!

Hina will understand why you need help, won’t judge you or question your motivations. She knows it’s personal, and she’s probably been thinking of ways to let you out of your predicament for weeks now. 

What’s most important to you is the people you surround yourself with. Hina is your only friend, and you love her, but Shuji managed to come in and steal all common sense from you. It feels empty knowing that the only person you have a connection with is Shuji, that you don’t have anyone to fall back on for support, no one to depend on. Just a couple months ago, you were ecstatic to find someone who wasn’t a bad influence in your life, who actually cared about you. But now? Your life is shattered into pieces, the foundations crumbled, broken and buried underneath piles of rubble.

When you get to Hina’s place, Takemichi is there also, but seeing a crying girl makes him panic and he leaves to give you both space. Not soon after he leaves the house, you burst into tears and tell Hina everything; from how Shuji’s mentally ruined you, his cheating, how you can’t help but go back to him each time because you’re addicted to the way he makes you feel. Hina coos softly, nodding and comforts you with hugs and words of assurance. 

She suggests that you leave him, citing what happens to the ones who continue staying with him and ends the conversation with an earnest ‘please’. 

“I have someone for you that can treat you better,” she suggests once you’ve calmed down a bit.

“Who?”

“His name is Kazutora. He’s one of Michi’s friends. If you want, I can introduce you to him if you want?”

Afterwards, you tell her you’ll think about it and she gets her boyfriend to drive you back home. You spend the night on the couch, too busy to go to your room and Hina makes you some hot tea to soothe your sore throat.

Everytime you attempt to think of this Kazutora guy, but you find yourself reliving those moments with Hanma again and again. It’s a vicious cycle, one that’s becoming unbearable. Your brain remembers all of them, even those bits where you thought you might die and got laid afterwards. Your hormones churn, taking complete control of your body, heart rate soaring, blood pressure rising and no amount of alcohol or drugs could help alleviate the physical sensations caused by your years.

You spend the next week laying on the couch, curled into a fuzzy blanket, body soaked in fatigue, guilt and sorrow before Hina helps you get your shit together. Introducing yourself to Kazutora was awkward, but eventually you two got closer as the weeks pass by. 

Still no contact from Shuji.

After a nice date with Kazutora, he takes you home and plants a kiss on your cheek before heading on his merry way. It’s not until you’re removing your makeup in your bathroom when you hear a knock on the door, drawing your attention.

You shuffle towards the door, peeking through the peephole before freezing, nerves running wild. 

What does he want? Did he change his mind? You hope that maybe he’s coming back to apolgoise for being gone for almost a month, hoping to gain your forgiveness even though you should be keeping that door locked.

Your vision narrows to an area directly in front of you, like it’s telescoping inward, slowly reducing your sight until only Hanma is visible. 

Heart pounding heavily, pushing blood through your veins faster than you’d like, your body fills with thick tension and anxiety. 

There’s another knock on the door when you take too long to open, this time harder and louder.

“Coming,” you call, voice wavering slightly, trying your hardest to sound confident, like all the progress you’ve spent healing weren’t about to crumble the second he steps inside your place.

Shuji enters, carrying himself with ease and confidence. He stands in the doorway, surverying the room. The air in the room instantly changes, the stale air swirling around and leaving behind it a thick cloud of moisture. Hanma’s features soften, taking on a pensive expression as he begins to enter the apartment.

He notices a pair of male sneakers resting in the hallway and his jaw tightens, brow furrowing, and arms folding across his chest as he scans the interor of your room. Your clothes law strewn across the floor, tossed haphazardly around the living room, abandonded before you had a chance to pick them up from your previous night with Kazutora

Tension builds in your stomach once you realise what he’s seen, fear welling up inside you, making it difficult to swallow.

Slowly, he turns around to take in your position, glaring daggers at you through narrowed eyes. 

His eyes bore holes through you, and there’s an intense fire burning hot and deep within them. If you squinted, you’d swear that the red flames emanating from them are mocking you.

“Get on the bed.” He commands quietly, and his not-so-harsh tone does nothing but scare you even more.

You mindlessly obey, treading carefully, like the calm before the storm. He snatches your chin and tips your head up to examine your features closely. “Spread your legs.”

You lift your skirt up and pull your panties down, spreading your legs as instructed. Taking a step forward, he stares at you with anger and disdain. “How long has this been goin’ on?” His eyebrows draw together when he sees you fumble with words. “Have you been sleeping with him since the beginning?”

Tears sting at your eyes, lips trembling as you hesitate, strugglign to form a reply. 

“Answer me,” he demands loudly, tightening his gips on your chin.

“Just—just the last couple days—” you whisper nervously, biting your bottom lip, taking a quick glance at the bed. “I’m sorry—”

He shoves you down onto the mattress, standing over you with menacing slowness. 

“Shut up.” He grows lowly, tanking down your shirt and shoving it roughly to your neck, ignoring the way it rips beneath your skin and throws your bra to the floor.

Your nipples ache painfully from the aggression, yearning to be touched and caressed. All thoughts of apologising forgotten as his grip clenches and pulls, eliciting a sharp gasp from your lungs.

Your squirm under his hold, eyes darting to his face and pleading for him to remove his hands. It seems as if he senses your desperate plea, unclenching his hold just enough for you to breathe. His dark, brooding gaze drops to your naked body and lingers, analyzing you intently.

“Did he ever tell you how much he loves you?” he asks quietly, licking his lips, eyes following the movement of your breasts, rising and falling with each uneven breath you take. “Did he make you feel good?”

Nerves pulse through your body, goosebumps breaking out along your skin. You know what’s happening is wrong, this isn’t supposed to happen, yet somehow you still enjoy the feeling.

Tilting your head, you attempt to ignore his questions and press your lips against his nose, kissing it once.

“ Don’t .” He snarls, tightening his hold and pulls you closer to him. “Don’t answer me. Because if I find out he did, I wouldn’t be able to control myself.”

Eyes squeeze shut, mouth pulled into a firm line, you bite your tongue hard and clamp your teeth down on it to keep silent. Your hands fly to cover your face as he slams his cock into you, kissing you hard and forceful. This is the moment you’re not sure you’ll be able to comeback from, if you let him fuck you, you’re unsure you’ll be able to face Kazutora anymore. But the way his tongue pushes its way between your lips, touching the tip to your own and sliding it along the roof of your mouth have your thoughts going hazy and you give in.

His movements are fast, controlled, seductive, and deadly. He knows what he’s doing, and uses the knowledge of your body to his full advantage, never allowing you to relax or remove his stranglehold on your neck.

And then you feel him, everywhere at once. It’s so overwhelming feeling his cock split you open with each painful thrust, sending an electric current surging through your body. The bed shakes with every thrust and he pulls out to flip you over. Your hips writhe rhythmatically, anticipating the moment he slams back into you before you have a better idea.

You change the positions, pushing him down to the bed and straddle him. He looks at you, chest heaving and eyes glazed with lust.

“Touch me,” he whispers huskily, lacing his fingers through yours and gently guiding your hands upwards, pressing them against his torso. “Feel how hard you make me, baby.”

You slide your palms over his smooth, warm skin, muscles twitching with each stroke as you travel downwards. You slip your fingers underneath the hem of his sweatshirt and trail them upwards, carressing and massaging the ridges of his abs. Goosebumps break out on his flesh, skin rippling with every touch you give, becoming slick with perspiration.

“If you see him again,” he pants when you begin to jerk his cock, looking down at him with those eyes that drive him crazy. “I’ll fuckin’ kill him and make you watch.”

You freeze and tears stream down your cheeks, soaking your jawling and dripping off your chin when you realise he’s being serious. 

“What do you mean?” you ask weakly, shaking your head, trying to clear it. You wipe the tears away quickly, and hold his stare. “A—are you threatening me?”

You start moving your hands away, and immediately he grabs them again and places them back on his cock, watching in rapt attention as he guides your hands to continue stroking him.

“You fuckin’ heard me,” he says lowly, growing agitated. “Don’t you fuckin’ dare see him.”

His grip on your hand grows tighter and more painful.

“Shu—” you whimper, tugging on his hands to get him to release you. “Let go—”

With a swift push, he flips you over onto your back, catching you effortlessly as you collapse backwards, stunned by his sudden aggressive attitude. Before you have time to react, he’s positioned above you, bent over at the waist, hands digging into your shoulders, exerting downward force.

“Hanma!” you cry out, gripping his shoulders writhing underneath him as he thrusts his cock back inside you. He lifts your hips up and holds you there, arching your back off the bed as you scrabble at the sheets, too overwhelmed with each powerful thrust.

“I hate you,” he growls, smacking his hips against your ass with brute force. “This’ll teach you not to fuck around. You’re—fuck— mine .”

It hurts. So fucking badly. But even after everything, you still love him. It’s painful, and torture, but you find yourself moaning loud and repetitively as he pushes his cock deeper and deeper into you. Every motion sends a new wave of pleasure coursing through your entire body, building up and up until you cannot take it anymore.

In the end, your knees buckle, and he supports your weight, slowing down and withdrawing his erection to cum on your stomach. For the first time since you’ve met him, he didn’t cum inside you. It’s a shock to you as you feel his warm cum on your stomach. 

A groan escapes his throat, one that sounds entirely different from the angry groan from earlier. It’s quiet, hesitant, and filled with regret.

You roll onto your side, gaze seeping across his distorted face. For a brief second, he seems to be looking at you, not seeing anything else but you. Then his eyes dart downwards, following the path of your body to your cum stained stomach.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he mutters, kissing the corner of your eye and crawling off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom.

As soon as you hear the water running, you begin making your way into the bathroom with him.

Naked and covered in sweat, you want nothing more than to wash away your stress. It seems as if it was just yesterday that he stormed his way into your life, determined to let you know how little you mattered to him. And now? 

Well, you don’t know how to feel anymore. It’s all confusing and disoreientating. 

You step into the shower with Hanma and stand behind him. 

Out of nowhere, he asks, “Do you love me?”

You hesitate for a moment and look down at your feet on the shower floor. “I do…but I don’t want to.”

The harsh words cut him, but his back straightens slightly. His voice turns firm, decisive. “Tell me the truth.”

Closing your eyes tightly, you sigh, opening them again to stare at him. He stares back, almost earnestly, daring you to admit the truth.

Considering the question carefully, you exhale. “Yes. Of course I do.”

His expression shifts instantly, eyes narrowing as his hand drops to his side with the shower head. A slow nod comes forth, as if convincing himself of something important. The shower suddenly falls silent as the water hits the side of the tub instead, and the both of you share the tense silence. It’s uncomfortable, the sound of the water echoing in the empty space.

“But…” You’re the first to break the silence. “I think we should stop seeing each other, Shu. It’s not healthy, what we have.” He stays silent as you continue to speak. “I feel like you’re using me…to satisfy your needs.” 

You look at his back as you wipe a tear from your cheek. “And I stupidly enough grew attached to you. But I want to end it. I—I can’t keep doing this.” Your voice goes quiet at the end and the room is filled with silence again.

The light overhead crackles and fizzles, adding to the already tense environment as the brightness dims. You glance towards the flickering bulb, resting crookedly on the ceiling.

“Okay.” He sighs, turning away. His hand brushes the edge of the shower head as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I shouldn’t have come here today.”

It’s scary to lose him and you can’t breathe properly. And it’s even more scary to admit that maybe he was right, that it wasn’t fair to come here today. A reminder to you how weak and pathetic you really were.

Hanma stands there, turning to face you, leaning against the wall. 

Silent.

Judging.

He waits. Until he feels ready to say what’s bothering him. It’s hard for him to get the words out, but he no longer feels fearful, or ashamed. “I’m sorry.”

His simple words send you flying back into his arms, tears flowing freely as you sob uncontrollably against his neck. He lets you cling to him, bury your face into the space between his shoulder and neck. His arms tighten around you, fingers tracing and scratching lightly along your spine.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he admits softly, lifting his hand to tilt your head back to look at you closer. “I’ve been thinking about things lately, and I realised I need to change my attitude towards you.” He rocks you back and forth in his arms, soothingly. “Even if it means ending our relationship. You deserve better.”

“Hanma,” you cry out softly, swallowing down the lump in your throat.  You bury your nose back in his shoulder, inhaling deeply. 

Fuck, he smells wonderful, like sweat and musky cologne, always so overpowering and strong. 

And you realise he still hasn’t told you goodbye.

A part of you wishes you could go on together, sleeping together. It’s not hard to deny you’ve fallen in love with him, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally, to the point where you feel hollow without him. When you’ve lost someone that close to you, it leaves you feeling isolated and lonely.

You’ve never felt more alone. Like everything you had build is collapsing beneath you. 

But another aprt of you yearns for companionship. A partner that reciprocates the same love you give back. Maturing realises that you’ll never get that with Shuji, and as much as you love him, you know it won’t last forveer. 

It would end with you getting hurt. Or worse.

All these thoughts swirl around your mind, clouding your judgement.

“I…can understand why you’d be frustrated with me,” he lets out a dry chuckle, completely humourless. “We’ve grown close in such a short amount of time. It’s fair to cut it off now.” His breath tickles your ear as he presses a kiss to your temple. “It’s obvious we’re not right for each other. We both know it, so why are we still trying?”

Such a good question that you can’t find the answer for. You try to remain calm and collected, fighting the emotions inside you. The light buzz above your head again, casting a strange shadow of your figures over the wall. The water trickles slowly down your skin, creating more goosebumps on your exposed arms and legs.

You wish you could just drown yourself in the vast ocean surrounding you.

Instead, you stay there, in his arms, enjoying the warmth feel of his chest against you, the water stinging your face as the glassy reflection in the shower door remind you of your situation.

Then he says the words you’ve been dreading to hear. 

“I’m leaving.”

He speaks it directly into your ear, with a slight edge of nervousness creeping into his voice.

You stay still, body rooted in place, holding onto him for support as he continues, “I’ll make sure you’re okay. I’m not gonna abandon you, so don’t fall off the deep end, alright?” 

His hand cups your chin, tilting your head back up to stare into your eyes. A soft smile plays on his lips, water drops falling off the tip of his nose as he looks down at you with a slight light in his eyes.

And in that moment, you decide.

“Hanma,”

He blinks at you and you notice the dark circles under his eyes, due to the lack of sleep and exhaustion.

You lean forward and kiss him passionately, wrapped tight in his arms, heart thumping widely in your chest.

“Say goodbye to me, Shuu,” you whisper, biting your bottom lip as his lips graze your forehead, planting soft kisses across your eyelids and cheeks.

He finally gives in, parting his lips and speaking softly into your ear. 

“Goodbye, baby.”

For a split second, you kind of expected him to say ‘I love you’ or perhaps some sort of heartfelt goodbye that’ll make you break down in tears. Instead, he presses a final kiss to your jawline, whispering, “Have fun,” before slipping out of the shower.

You stay in the bathroom as you hear him pack up his stuff and get dressed.

Silence reigns supreme once he’s gone, a weight hanging over your shoulders. The tears fall freely, silently, as your mind races. Should you stay with Shuji and let Kazutora go? Would Kazu forgive you? Could he forgive you?

You blink the tears away and step out of the shower, drying yourself up before dressing up. You attempt to go to the living room to Hanma off when you hear your doorbell ring. 

Hanma is finishing dressing up as you walk over to the door, towel in arms to dry your hair. 

You open the door and see Kazutora waiting, flowers in hand, staring down at you. 

“Hey,” you answer sheepishly, forgetting he told you he’s coming to get you tonight.

Kazutora purses his lips. “Are you ready to go out now? You’re not dressed yet.”

Before you can respond, Hanma slips past the door, clutching his phone in hand. He glances between you and Kazutora and frowns, tempted to say something but stops himself, because he knows you deserve better.

“Yeah, sorry I took so long. Hanma wanted to give me something before I left.”

Kazutora knows you’re both lying, but nods and smiles faintly. The redness in your eyes is telling enough.

Your relationship/friendship with Hanma isn’t just shallow, it’s unhealthy. But then again, Kazutora did tell you that if you plan on becoming something, you shouldn’t be fucking Hanma, nor letting him in your life.

“Alright, then.” Kazutora nods and takes a step backwards to let Shuji pass. 

Hanma makes it halfway down the steps of your apartment before Kazutora calls his name. “Thanks, Shuji.”

Hanma shares one more look at you, biting your lip to stop it trembling, and fights the urge to scoop you up from the floor and take you home with him. But he stops himself. “Yeah, whatever.”

[heich0e]

the heart is but a winding road p.1 - shouto todoroki/f!reader (1.3k) pro-hero shouto, we're talkin late 20s early 30s-ish, this independent bachelor turned begrudging father figure fic was almost certainly inspired by buddy daddies, pure fluff, sho is about to make a new bff who happens to be 5 years old much to everyone's surprise

YOU ARE HERE - p.2 - p.3 - p.4 (upcoming)

It’s not that Shouto wouldn’t make a good parent. Quite the opposite really. It’s just that after his tumultuous upbringing, he’s more at peace with the idea of spending his adulthood independently. He’s a bit awkward with kids anyway. Doesn’t know how to talk to them. The idea of having one toddling along behind him 24/7 makes him kinda itchy and uncomfortable, like when sweaters are made with synthetic material and get put through the dryer.

His friends often tell him he’ll probably change his mind as he gets older. His family does too. But he keeps getting older and his stance stays the same. Fuyumi gets married and starts having kids first. Natsuo and his partner eventually adopt as well after trying for a few years. Denki elopes on a trip abroad and has three kids before their graduating class has even hit 25. Kirishima is next. Momo. Sero. Slowly, everyone Shouto knows is settling down and getting married and starting families.

And he just… doesn’t want that.

“‘Scuse me.”

Shouto is staring at a puddle in the middle of the street one afternoon, lost in his thoughts. It’s just stopped raining, and everything around him on the city street is soaked as the water slowly pools and slithers away into the storm drains. His phone is in his hand, open to where Uraraka has just sent a text to the old class 1-A group chat to announce she’s having her second baby.

Shouto turns towards the sound that interrupted his swirling thoughts, and a pair of wide eyes gazes up at him from roughly thigh-height. 

“Yes?” the man asks, polite but a bit clipped, as he stares down warily at the child by his feet.

The kid probably wants a picture, he realizes. Even out of his Pro Hero suit he’s still fairly recognizable, and it’s a common occurrence. He’s got a baseball cap and mask on today though, and really hadn’t wanted to be spotted.

“Uhhh, uhmm…” the kid stammers, tugging at the hem of their little yellow rain jacket.

Shouto sighs a little.

“Do you want a pho-“

“Littering is bad!”

The child’s hands are balled up into determined little fists at their sides, their eyes squeezed closed like they mustered all their strength to say the words.

And Shouto is… speechless.

“Uh,” he falters, uncertain what the hell is even happening. “Yeah?”

The kid's eyes open again, and this time they look more resolved than they had a moment prior. Less friendly, too.

“So why’d you LITTER?”

People walking by on the sidewalk are starting to stare now, and Shouto gets that itchy, uncomfortable sensation that he hates as he feels the prickle of their eyes on him.

“What are you talking about?” he asks the child nervously, tugging his cap down a little further over his face.

The kid puffs out their cheeks indignantly.

“You dropped this garbage on the ground back there.” Clutched in the child’s tiny fist is a slip of paper—a receipt, Shouto quickly surmises. His receipt from the shop he’d just visited, which must have fallen from his pocket when he’d pulled out his phone. The little gremlin waves it around accusatorially. “And you didn’t pick it up! That’s littering.”

Shouto crouches down to meet the kid at eye-level, hoping that, if nothing else, it will stop raising its voice if he gets a bit closer.

“That was an accident,” Shouto tries to explain—tries to deescalate the situation—but the look on the child’s face doesn’t soften in the slightest. The worst part about all of this is that Shouto does actually need that receipt. He eyes it for a moment, contemplating his next move, and then he sighs. “Can I have that back?”

“No,” the kid answers immediately. “Littering is a crime and this is my eminence.”

“Your what?” the man asks flatly.

“My eminence,” the kid replies, turning their nose up at him like he’s the one being foolish.

Shouto blinks blankly at the knee-high pain in his ass.

“Nao! Nao!”

A startled, frantic voice makes Shouto’s head turn on instinct—the panic igniting a sense, an alertness, that’s been long-engrained in him.

He spots you down the road, an umbrella in your hand and a flustered but relieved look on your face, racing towards him.

Him? 

Shouto is confused for a moment, until he remembers he’s not alone.

“Mama!” the present bane of Shouto’s existence melts into something unrecognizable to the thorn they’d been in his side only a moment prior—their tone sweet and excited when they spot you jogging over.

“Nao-chan,” you breathe, falling to your knees on the sidewalk and wrapping your arms around their little yellow-raincoat clad body, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

“Mama, I caught a criminal!” the child, who Shouto can only assume is named Nao, says excitedly as they point an eager finger in his direction.

You turn and face Shouto with a startled look on your face.

This day is really not going his way.

Your cautious eyes scan Shouto for a moment, understandably wary considering your child just proudly labelled him a criminal, but he sees a flicker of recognition kindling behind your gaze that melts away your initial look of mistrust. Begrudgingly, he reaches up and loops a finger under the edge of his mask, tugging it down to his chin to reveal his face.

Your lips part, then close again.

“Nao-chan, I think you made a mistake,” you say softly to the child tucked against your side.

“Nuh-uh, Mama! I caught him littering and I got eminence!” 

“Evidence, baby,” you correct the child gently.

“Yeah, that!”

You squeeze your eyes shut, looking vaguely mortified, and huff out a little laugh.

“I’m so sorry,” you say to Shouto, an apologetic grimace on your face, “he’s been obsessed with the recycling hero lately. It’s all he talks about.”

Shouto eyes the child, the boy, at your side. He’s familiar with Reductro, the Recycling Hero, but only vaguely. He’s been working with the education branch of the Hero Commission for the past few years, teaching kids to minimize their waste and promote taking care of the environment, and the two have met in passing a few times through work and the like. Shouto had no idea he had these kind of die-hard fans.

“You like Reductro?” Shouto asks the kid curiously.

The little boy’s face lights up.

“He’s the best!”

“What’s so cool about him?” Shouto asks, genuinely interested.

“He came to my school last week and he helps to get plastic outta the ocean!” The little boys eyes sparkle as he replies. “He took a gillion plastic bags out of the bay last year!”

Shouto purses his lips. that is pretty cool.

“Nao, give the nice hero back his receipt now, please,” you urge your son, seemingly eager to end this ordeal amicably. 

The little boy squints up at Shouto’s face, shuffling a bit closer. “You’re a hero?” he asks skeptically.

Shouto nods. “I’m Pro Hero Shouto.”

The little boy’s jaw gapes, and Shouto feels a little swell of smugness in his chest. He’s the number three hero after all, the kid must have heard of him.

“Do you know Reductro?”

The swell of his hubris deflates immediately. 

A few more words are exchanged as Nao—Naoyuki, age 5, likes Pro Hero Reductro and dislikes broccoli, as Shouto comes soon to learn—returns his misplaced receipt and you apologize again for your son’s overzealousness. With a few polite bows and one last apology for good measure, the three of you part ways—Naoyuki’s little rain boots thumping along the sidewalk as the two of you depart hand-in-hand.

Shouto looks down at the paper in his palm after you’re gone, unable to shake the foreign feeling that’s crept over him, and curled itself into his chest underneath his ribs. He clasps his fingers around the troublesome receipt and shoves his hand into his coat pocket as he sets off in the direction of his apartment.

He keeps the little slip of paper tightly in his grip the entire way home.

[thebearer]

Your writing is amazing!!! please please do more angst/fighting with Carmy. It really puts me in my feels.

ahh thank you!!! i'm actually working on another full fic tha will be a lot of angst and fighting a jealousy and hopefully will be posted soon!!!

I'm gonna leave a little snippet of a portion of their fight scene right down here as sort of a sneak peek :) enjoy!

Carmen looked like he might pass out, palms rubbing against his jeans, eyes bouncing from you to her. “Y’know we should catch up sometime, Carmy. I’d love to see Sugar and Richie.” 

“Yeah, I-I’m not sure what they’re-” 

“-You know what.” You snipped, teeth ground tight. “I think I’ll finish shopping, and you two can catch up, alright?” You snatch the list out of Carmen’s hand. “It was so nice to meet you, Claire.” 

Carmen can feel your fury even after you stomp away, whizzing into the next aisle, slinging the basket with so much fury the detergent slides and he cringes as he thinks about the plums that probably got crushed. 

“Uh-oh,” Claire snickers. “Looks like I got you in trouble.” 

“Yeah- I mean, no, she’s just… We have plans later, so I gotta go. Tell your family I said hello.” Carmen nods, barely hearing her reply before he’s chasing you down the aisles. 

“Baby, hey, c’mon-” 

“Don’t.” You hissed, shoving Carmen’s hand off you. “Go back and talk to Claire Bear.” You snarled, voice rising in pitch to mock the name. 

“Don’t do this.” Carmen’s stomach turned, twisting with that familiar twinge of anxiety. His eyes were already darting towards the far end of the store, feeling like he needed to get a bottle of Pepto… maybe two. 

“Do what?” You snapped, huffing at him. “Honestly, Carmen, how would you feel if I ran into one of my old exes and they were talkin’ to me like that, huh?” 

“She’s not an ex-” 

“-Oh? She isn’t?” You deadpanned, glaring at Carmen. He faltered, eyes darting from your gaze just for a moment. “You’re such a fucking liar, Carmen, I’m not stupid.” You huffed, shoving the cart. 

“Hey,” Carmen snapped, heavy hand landing on the cart’s handle to stop it. “Cut it out, alright?”

[half-oz-eddie]

You swore 💔

Part 1

Half socmed half fic where Steve gets more than he bargained for when he starts cheating on his girlfriend with the hot cashier from the boutique near his job. inspired by this post

18+

Part 2 -> Part 3 -> Part 4 -> Part 5 -> Part 6 ->

Read On Ao3

Everyone in town knew Billy Hargrove, the part time lifeguard at Hawkins Pool. Steve never expected to get up close and personal with this guy before learning he also worked at a small denim boutique near Family Video. 

Steve stopped in on payday to buy a new pair of jeans and spotted the hot lifeguard as he was folding some bootcut jeans. 

It was a small boutique, so only one employee was necessary, and it just so happened to be Billy. 

“Hey, welcome. Need some help?” He smiled, a strikingly charming smile. 

“Just looking.” Steve responded with a soft grin of his own, shopping around the boutique to find the perfect fit of jeans. 

He found a pair in his size, lifting them to examine them more closely. 

“Oh, you don’t want those.” Billy mentioned. 

“No? Why not?”

Billy set down the pair he was folding, approaching Steve. “Pretty boy like you should get a pair that hugs that ass just right, y’know? You don’t want anything loose and unflattering. The wrong fit could ruin your whole ensemble.”

Steve’s heart skipped a beat. Pretty boy? Did he just call him that and mention his ass? 

Now, Steve had yet to realize his admiration for attractive men was more than admiration. It took him being infatuated with Billy to learn this about himself. 

He let Billy select the perfect pair of jeans for him and he tried them on, looking at his ass in the mirror. 

“See? That’s what I’m talkin' about.” Billy gave a nod of approval. “If you’re happy with them, I’ll ring you up.”

“O-oh. Yeah. Sure.” Steve agreed to buy the pair and left that boutique shaking like a leaf. 

What really did him in was the way their hands briefly touched when Billy placed the receipt in his hand and asked him to come again. 

Steve took it as an invitation and did just that the following week. 

He walked in, deciding he suddenly needed a new shirt. What he really needed was another interaction with Billy. 

“Back again, Bambi?” Billy smiled as the new pet name rolled off his tongue.

Steve smirked and nodded, trying to avoid looking at Billy’s glistening, muscular arms in that lifeguard tank top and the sexy, messy bun his curls were tucked into. 

“I’m just here to buy a shirt.” Steve answered. “Any suggestions?”

“We have some cotton polos on the wall.” He pointed. “Those look good on you under your work vest.” 

There was that smile again. 

“You think so?”

“I know so. I’ve got an eye for that. Unless you wanna try something different?” He took a step towards Steve, closing the distance between them. 

Billy was the something different Steve wanted to try. 

He glanced down at Steve’s jeans, smirking at his hardly concealed bulge. “They look good on you. Show off all your assets.” They locked eyes as Billy bit his bottom lip. 

Steve could feel his body heating up, stupidly unaware of the face he made as his mouth hung open, drool nearly dribbling from the sides of his mouth.

“I uh…I’ve got something in the back you could try, but only if you’re interested.”

Steve pushed his bangs off his forehead, nodding without a second thought. He knew what Billy was implying. He wanted to try something new for sure. 

Billy locked the door and put a “Back in 30 minutes” sign in the window, then led Steve to the back room.

He pushed Steve against the wall, kissing his neck as he unbuttoned his jeans and slowly unzipped them. 

Steve’s entire body trembled as Billy made his way down to his cock, taking him into his mouth and sucking him like there was no tomorrow. 

Billy’s blue eyes stared into Steve’s soul as he slurped on his cock and Steve was in disbelief. 

He grabbed hold of Billy’s bun, bucking his hips and gently thrusting into his hot, wet mouth. 

“Oh…shit.” He whispered. 

This had to be a dream. It had to. He hardly knew this guy, but the amount of sexual tension between them was insane. There was no way he would have been able to go home and forget about him. 

If his cock wasn’t down Billy’s throat, he would be back home right now jerking it. He pushed the thoughts of Billy and his pretty smile away until he just couldn’t take it anymore. 

This was the most exciting, most exhilarating experience of Steve’s life. His cock hardened and swelled in Billy’s mouth and he moaned so desperately, like it’d been months since he had sex. 

He was only with Nancy 2 days ago, and yet, he couldn’t stop himself from craving Billy. 

“I’m gonna cum…ah, shit.” He spilled into Billy’s mouth, whining and shaking as he swallowed it all up, continuing to suck until there was nothing left. 

Billy slowly pulled away and looked at him. “Still need a shirt?” He asked, only to be answered with a small nod. 

Billy picked out a shirt for Steve and asked him to come again, but more demanding than last week. 

So Steve did return the following week, and the week after that. 

And each week they’d go into the back room and do something nasty that Steve could never do with Nancy. 

“You should come to my house.” Steve suggested in a whisper as his hand was wrapped around their cocks, jerking them together as they sucked each other’s tongues. 

“Oh yeah? What’ll happen if I come to your house?” Billy asked. 

“All kinds of stuff.” Steve smiled. “We’ll be all alone, just like we are now, except in my nice, comfy bed.”

“Can I spend the night with you, pretty boy?” Billy asked softly, moaning as his orgasm grew nearer. “Ride you til the sun rises?”

Steve knew it was risky, but one glance into those pretty blue eyes, and he was willing to risk it all. “Course you can, baby.”

“Mmm…gonna cum.” 

“Me too.”

They shared a kiss, one more gentle than lustful as they shared an orgasm. 

Steve knew keeping this up was a bad idea, but he didn’t have any idea how bad it would be until it went on for a little too long. 

Steve started inviting Billy over on days he knew Nancy would be too busy, which was a lot of days, but still risky as hell. Steve kind of liked how dangerous this was, but eventually he started to kind of like Billy, and his feelings were all mixed up in a mess. 

For 2 months, Steve and Billy were fucking and texting regularly, and when they cuddled after sex the last time, Steve knew he had to come clean with Billy before he got the wrong idea. 

The night before they planned to see each other again, Steve texted Billy, deciding to tell him the truth. 

It’s a small town. Steve just assumed Billy already knew about Nancy.

“Shit.” Steve said aloud, throwing himself onto his bed. “No. No. I gotta tell him.”

He didn't want to fuck this up. In all his years with Nancy, he never felt anything quite like what he felt with Billy, and he just didn't want to let that go.

That was Steve’s mistake. 

Steve had yet to learn how spiteful Billy was. And, oh, was he about to fucking learn. 

[starrylothcat]

Sweet Thing

Wrecker x Female!Reader One-Shot

Summary: Wrecker has a crush on you, a local sweet shop owner. Will he find the courage to ask you out? (maybe…with a little help from Omega) 5700 words

Warnings: None? Fluff, dummies in love. A little spicy make-out and a tiny bit suggestive at the end but nothing explicit.

Author’s Note: So I accidentally deleted the ask like a dumb dumb 🙈 The prompt was “You look so beautiful in this lighting” from @wizardofrozz ! I’ve been wanting to write a Wrecker fic for awhile but I’ve been nervous 😅. I think Omega would totally be a little shit (in a loving little sister way) if she knew one of her brothers had a crush. Shout out to the wonderful @l-lend for helping me with this! Seriously tysm. I hope y’all enjoy. ❤️

Incredible moodboard made by the talented @saradika

The Marauder touched down in Ord Mantell City, the engines powering off as the ramp lowered to the ground, the ship’s durasteel catching the last rays of sunlight as dusk settled over the planet.

Before the ramp had a chance to lower completely, Omega sprinted down the platform, buzzing with excitement. “C’mon, Wrecker! Let’s go!” She turned, seeing him trying to keep up with her, hurrying down the ramp himself.

“Omega, we all need to talk to Cid before you and Wrecker run off. It’s getting late.”

Hunter walked down the ramp, watching as Omega tugged at Wrecker’s armored arm toward the marketplace.

“But we always get treats from her right after a mission! We won’t be gone that long, right Wrecker?” Omega gave Hunter a dewy-eyed look, glancing between him and Wrecker. A look she knew Hunter couldn’t refuse. “Please?”

“Ya, we won’t be gone long! I’m starving, anyway. Those ration bars never hit the spot!” Wrecker agreed, wanting to join Omega. He wasn’t just excited at the prospect of food, though.

Months prior, Wrecker had found your sweet shop by pure happenstance, wandering with Omega in search of Mantell Mix after a mission. They had taken a different route than usual and noticed your humble stand in the mix of the bustling marketplace. Your handmade treats looked irresistible, perfectly placed in your small display case. Impeccably decorated cakes with different colored frostings and glazes, mouth-watering fruit tarts, hand-pies, jelly candies, custards, and other sweet confectioneries.

Your shop became Wrecker and Omega’s new post-job ritual, Mantell Mix quickly a memory of the past. Your treats were amazing, there was no denying that. But Wrecker, surprising himself even, began to look forward to seeing you more than tasting whatever you had cooked up since you last saw one another. You were easy to talk to, kind, talented, not to mention easy on the eyes. Wrecker began taking any opportunity he could to see you when he had downtime between jobs.

Hunter sighed, knowing he couldn’t fight the look on Omega’s (or Wrecker’s) face.

“Okay, just be back at the bar before long. We have a lot to discuss with Cid.” Hunter gave Wrecker a glance, more soft than stern. “I mean it, not too long.” It wasn’t a secret Wrecker had been spending more time at your shop lately. “At least have Omega back before dark. And bring back some jellyfruit cakes while you’re at it.” Even Hunter couldn’t deny your sweets were some of the best he’s ever tasted.

Omega beamed and leaned up toward Wrecker, getting on her tiptoes. She cupped her hand to the side of her mouth as if she wanted to tell him a secret.

“She’s probably waiting to see you, Wrecker!” She giggled, whispering with an impish twinkle in her eyes. Wrecker stuttered for a moment as Hunter raised an eyebrow, hearing Omega’s not-so-quiet statement.

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about…” Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed. But he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“Wrecker, it has not gone unnoticed that you spend a lot of personal time at that sweet shop. The owner of said shop has more than likely perceived you are not just there to purchase her confections. Though you do purchase a lot.”

Tech walked past, just coming off The Marauder, speaking matter-of-factly, also hearing what Omega had said. He suddenly stopped, looking up from his datapad and over his shoulder, glancing back toward Wrecker.

“More precisely, she may even assume you have what Omega has defined as “a crush.” And perhaps shares that sentiment.”

Wrecker snapped his head toward Tech, completely at a loss for words, thoroughly embarrassed now. He turned to Omega, giving her a desperate look.

“I-I don’t! I just erm…like her sweets is all!”

Echo appeared at his side, who had also just exited the ship, nudging Wrecker with his good hand. “It’s ok, big guy. From what I can tell, I think she likes you, too. So you don’t have much to worry about.”

Echo smirked as he followed Tech, leaving a stuttering Wrecker behind with Omega and Hunter. Am I really that obvious? Wrecker thought, his face feeling like it was on fire. Of course I am.

Hunter chuckled, placing his hand on Wrecker’s shoulder, seeing how flustered he was at his brother’s teasing. “If it means anything, I agree with Echo and Tech. Go see her. But like I said, Omega comes back before dark, okay? And don’t forget those cakes.”

Wrecker shifted on his feet, his heart thudding in his chest. Hunter patted his brother’s large shoulder, giving him a knowing look before following Tech and Echo to Cid’s parlor.

Wrecker groaned, looking down at Omega as their brothers left them standing near the ship.

“Omega! She ‘prolly doesn’t like me like that! What did you tell Tech?”

Wrecker still felt the heat on his face as they started toward your shop. Omega peered up, giving him a sly look. “But you like her, right?” The glint in her eyes was downright diabolical. “And I didn’t tell Tech anything! I just mentioned once you might have a crush on her, that’s all. It’s kind of obvious.” She shrugged.

Wrecker cleared his throat, thinking of your smile, how your eyes light up when you see him in the crowd, or how the sides of your eyes crinkle when you laugh at one of his jokes, a musical note that echoed in his thoughts constantly.

“You’re blushing, Wrecker!” Omega giggled as Wrecker groaned again and rubbed his face with his hands, the heat not fading.

“Fine!” He let out a deep sigh. “I guess I do. I dunno…she’s nice and pretty and…” Wrecker’s shoulders slumped, knowing Omega was on to him. He did have a crush. You were more than just nice and pretty, though.

Wrecker saw how immaculately you decorated your sweets, how careful and gentle your hands were. His hands were steady and careful too, but trained to deal in explosives, things meant to destroy. Your hands created, and he was entranced any time he watched you delicately pipe frosting flowers or stylish Aurebesh characters on cakes and pastries. He really did like you, and not just because you were talented in food-making.

But how could he ever tell you or expect you to be more than friends? He has thought about telling you how he feels, asking you to dinner or something of the sort. But he always hesitated. Your livelihoods were completely different from one another. You probably wanted someone more…normal. He was an outcast clone, not quite knowing what the future held for him and his family. He had resigned to the fact that his crush would stay just that.

Omega peered past Wrecker, who was deep in his thoughts, staring at a colorful flier that was hung up on a post as they continued walking down the marketplace. Omega ran over to what caught her eye, reading what the flier said. Omega’s eyes widened, looking back at Wrecker. “Wrecker! There’s going to be a fireworks show!” She ripped one of the flyers off the post, hurrying back to him, holding it up for him to see. “Look, it says tomorrow night! We should all go, I’ve only seen fireworks in Holonet vids…oh, I can’t wait to tell Hunter!” Omega clutched the flier, staring at the artwork and large letters announcing the event on the paper.

Wrecker snapped out of his thoughts, and couldn’t help but smile at seeing her so happy at the idea, acting like a kid should. “Yeah, big explosions in the sky, right up my alley! It’ll be great! We’ll definitely go!” Wrecker glimpsed down at Omega, who now had that impish twinkle in her eyes again as she did before when talking about you. “You should invite her to go with you!” Her eyes darkened. “You should ask her on a date.”

“Omega…” Wrecker started, feeling heat creep up his neck again.

“Wrecker, I bet it would make her happy! She likes you, I know it. I can tell! Even Tech notices!”

Wrecker rubbed his face again, the thought of asking you to the fireworks show as a date made his heart rate increase. He couldn’t catch a break today, it seemed.

“I dunno, Omega…” She watched as Wrecker’s ears turned red. Omega folded the flier, putting it in her bag. “You’ll never know if she likes you back unless you tell her how you feel! I saw a vid on the Holonet recently where the two characters liked one another but were too afraid to say it and…”

Wrecker stopped walking, kneeling down to Omega, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Look Omega…I know you’re just tryna help but this isn’t a Holonet vid. It’s a little more complicated than that…she’s a good friend and I’ll think about it, kay? I appreciate you looking out for me.” Omega pouted a little, but understood, knowing she was pushing a little hard. Wrecker smiled and ruffled her hair, causing Omega to giggle as he stood back up, continuing toward you.

“But if I did ask her on a date, ya really think she’d say yes?” Wrecker glanced down at Omega as they walked, fixing her now messy hair. “I do, and I think she’d be silly to say no!” Omega grabbed Wrecker’s hand, giving it a squeeze of encouragement. He swallowed, now actually considering this plan. “Like I said, I’ll think about it. Now let’s get going, it’s getting dark and I’m starving!”

—//—

You couldn’t help but glance up every few minutes, hoping to catch a glimpse of him in the crowd of Ord Mantell City. You were trying to focus on placing the finishing touches on some meiloorun tarts you planned on selling tomorrow, but every louder-than-usual laugh or tall frame you caught in your peripheral made your heart jump momentarily, your eyes scanning the marketplace. You were hoping it was him. You were always hoping it was him.

You remembered the first time Wrecker and Omega visited your small shop. They had excitedly approached, wanting to try everything.

You were intimidated at first, as Wrecker’s large frame and scarred face loomed over your small stand. But his warm smile and look of pure delight at your homemade goods pushed any nervous thoughts away immediately, especially when you saw how gentle he was with the small girl that accompanied him. They had almost sold you out that day, exclaiming they would be back whenever they could.

You began to expect them often, eager to see both Wrecker and Omega push through the crowd toward your stall. Omega was always excited to tell you about the job they had just returned from, and Wrecker always unabashedly told you how your sweets were better every time he tried them, the best in the Galaxy, even. He even brought his brothers along sometimes, who also couldn’t resist your baked goods.

More and more, Wrecker would linger at your stall whenever he could, talking with you, asking if you needed help moving things, watching you work and asking questions.

You sometimes had Omega help decorate your goods, much to her delight. Wrecker was also a great advertisement, whether he knew it or not, frequently bellowing how tasty your sweets were, which caught the attention of passing patrons. Talking was easy with him, and he made your day brighter, go by faster.

It seemed silly, but Wrecker made you feel special. He seemed genuinely interested in how you made each treat, asking questions about the baking process or what ingredients you used. He especially liked watching you decorate cakes, your steady hands creating beautiful edible patterns without mistake. You felt you could be your authentic self with him, sharing your passion with someone who enthusiastically listened. You couldn’t help but fall for him.

You tried to focus on your tarts, your mind now thoroughly distracted by your secret feelings for Wrecker. You imagined being held in his large arms, cradled against his broad chest as it rumbled with his deep laugh. Oh Maker, I’m in deep, aren’t I? You thought. A tiny, anxiety-ridden voice in the back of your mind you constantly tried to snuff out became louder. Why would he like you like that? He’s a soldier on the run. You’re just…you. Get a hold of yourself. He likes your sweets, that’s all. You sighed, feeling foolish at thinking you and Wrecker could become something other than friends. But before you could let the negative thoughts bother you more, you heard your name, loud and joyful. You looked up, seeing Wrecker towering over the crowd, vigorously waving to you with Omega in tow.

The anxious feeling that had moved to your stomach turned into butterflies at the sight of him. Omega ran up first, her eyes glued to your display of desserts for the day. “Woah Wrecker, we gotta try every single one!”

Wrecker approached next, smiling, his eyes on you instead of the desserts.

“It’s been a while. It’s good to see you.” You said softly as you set the meiloorun tarts to the side, meeting Wrecker’s eyes. Wrecker could feel his face heat up at your gaze.

He noticed a smear of frosting on your forehead, and some powdered sugar in your hair. You were beautiful. “Erm yeah…we uh got caught up with some stuff, we just got back. But it was nothin’ we couldn’t handle!”

“Yeah, we wanted to come see you right away!” Omega’s eyes peeked up at Wrecker, nudging his leg a little with her foot. Wrecker gave her a quick, confused glance.

“I’m glad you’re here, because today I have some new specials!” You pulled out a few sweets from your display shelf. “Spice rolls, savory puffcakes, and zoochberry jelly squares. The jelly squares are a new recipe, let me know what you think! Here, take a sample!” You placed two in your hand, holding them out for them to take.

Wrecker knew he couldn’t deny you, his fingers brushed against yours as he took the small desserts from your hand. Goosebumps ran up your arm as you felt his surprisingly gentle touch against your palm, wondering what it would be like to have your hand fully in his. Wrecker handed one to Omega, both popping the dessert into their mouths.

“Mmmm, it’s delicious!” Omega exclaimed between mouthfuls. Wrecker nodded in agreement. “I know I say this a lot but…it’s your best yet!” Wrecker grinned, his face absolutely lighting up as he complimented your dessert. “Aw, you always say that!” You teased, wiping your hands on your apron.

Wrecker chuckled. “Well, it’s true.” Your heart swelled at his compliment as you fell into familiar conversation, catching up from when you saw one another last. In this case, it had been about a week, since their last job went longer than expected. The sun had now set, Wrecker and Omega still sampling treats and talking as you helped other customers.

It was fully dark now, and Wrecker knew Hunter was probably grumbling about Omega not being back yet. You turned away to start filling a box for them to bring back to their brothers, and Omega nudged Wrecker’s leg with her foot again, slightly nodding her head toward you. Wrecker shook his head, trying to get Omega to drop it, knowing she was bugging him about asking you to the fireworks show.

Wrecker’s stomach dropped as he watched Omega sneakily pull out the fireworks flier from her bag, pointing at it, and then pointing at you. “You should ask her! We gotta go soon!” Omega whispered through her teeth, trying to stay quiet.

Wrecker sighed internally, his belly on fire with anxiousness. He knew this was his chance to ask you. He could face 100 rancors without hesitation, without fear. He already spends time alone with you at your shop. It seemed like a good idea to ask you out tonight, but now that he was here in front of you, he was frozen in his tracks.

“What’s that?’ You asked, turning back to them and seeing Omega holding the flier in her hand.

“Oh, there’s a fireworks show tomorrow!” Omega exclaimed as she excitedly bounced on her toes. “We saw these fliers on our way here.” She held it up for you to see.

You nodded as you filled their box with two of everything, throwing in some extras as a surprise. Omega quickly nudged Wrecker with her foot again, this time a little harder, more like a kick.

Wrecker gave Omega a stern, but pleading look, hoping you hadn’t noticed.

“Are you going to go?” Omega asked sweetly.

“Oh…I’m not sure.” You placed a few more goodies into their box, placing it on your small counter.

You had seen the fliers the previous day, knowing about the event already. You couldn’t lie to yourself and say you didn’t imagine you and Wrecker holding hands, watching the fireworks together. You had half an idea to ask Wrecker to go with you, but the thought of rejection quickly shut down that idea in your head. Silly thoughts.

“We are going tomorrow night! You should, too!” Omega looked up at Wrecker, her eyes flicking toward you.

“Oh, I don’t want to impose on you and your brothers. I have some new recipes I want to test out, that’s what I’ll probably be doing tomorrow night.” You closed their box, turning your back to them again momentarily to find something to secure the box shut.

Wrecker knew this was his chance, and knew deep down that Omega was right. If he ever wanted to explore if you and him could be something more, he had to ask you. Omega was just trying to look out for him, though he could do without the kicking. That’s what little sisters are for, right?Even if you said no, at least he could say he tried. Wrecker took a breath, finding some confidence as you were turning back toward them. It was now or never.

“Would you go if…um…you went with me?” Wrecker stuttered out, suddenly fully wishing he could sprout wings and fly away, heights be damned.

You were stunned for a moment, staring at him. Did he just ask me what I think he did? You hope you hadn’t misheard him. Was he asking you on a…date?

Wrecker tried to steady his nerves, waiting for your response, bracing himself for you telling him no. For a man so large, he felt small in this moment, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

Your face lit up, your eyes shining. “Wrecker, I’d love to join you.”

Now Wrecker was momentarily stunned, not fully expecting that answer. His mind was trying to process the fact you had said yes. “We can meet here tomorrow, before the show?” You questioned, knowing you were blushing but didn’t care, handing over their large box of sweets.

All Wrecker could do was dumbly nod, his brain short-circuiting. “He’ll be here, don’t worry!” Omega beamed, speaking for Wrecker, taking the box from you, elated at the exchange that had just happened before her.

Wrecker nodded again, finally finding his words. “Yeah…uhh… I’ll meet ya here tomorrow!” A weight had lifted off his chest, noticing your flushed cheeks. You looked even more beautiful than before.

Omega nudged Wrecker, but this time more playfully, her eyes saying “I told you so!”

“Oh, we gotta pay!” Wrecker’s mind was running a mile a minute, finally taking his eyes off you as quickly starting to rummage through his belt pockets to find credits. He felt foolish for almost walking off without paying, especially after just asking you out on a date.

“Oh no, it’s on the house tonight!” You waved your hand, refusing payment.

“Are ya sure, we are getting a lot and you work so hard…” Wrecker started, feeling flustered still trying to find where he put his credits.

“You can pay for my dinner tomorrow, then we’ll call it even.” Your statement made him lose his train of thought once more, letting your words sink in, solidifying the fact that you were indeed going on a date. “Oh…” Was all he could say.

“Does that sound good?” You asked quietly, fidgeting with the hem of your apron, the butterflies in your stomach threatening to explode out.

“Yes, ‘course!” Wrecker grinned, feeling giddy now, still not quite believing that you had agreed to go with him.

Wrecker wanted to stay and talk longer, but knew they had to go. As if Hunter read his mind, Omega’s commlink beeped. “Wrecker, I think we gotta go, Hunter is probably grumpy that we aren’t back yet.” Omega stepped away, talking to Hunter on her device, letting him know they really would be back soon.

Wrecker rubbed the back of his neck. “We gotta go…but I’ll see ya tomorrow, yeah?”

“Of course, you shouldn’t keep Hunter waiting any longer for his cakes.” You giggled. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Your lips turned into a small smile, and Wrecker wanted nothing more than to taste them and see if they were as sweet as your desserts.

Wrecker gave you a shy wave as he turned, walking away with Omega.

You waved back, watching them disappear into the dark haze of the marketplace, your smile not fading even after they were gone.

“See, Wrecker? I told you she’d say yes!”

Omega seemed satisfied, chomping on a sweet she had taken out of the box, a spring in her step. Wrecker rolled his eyes playfully, this time nudging her with his foot, gently, of course. “Yeah, yeah! And next time, lay off the kicking, ‘kay? But thanks for the encouragement.” Omega giggled, happy for her brother, who himself felt happier than he had in a long time.

—The Next Day—

As promised, Wrecker met you at your shop in the late afternoon, the sun beginning to dip in the sky. You got dinner to go, and any pre-date nerves you both had were gone almost immediately as you walked through the marketplace, making easy conversation.

Wrecker already knew he didn’t want this night to end, his eyes glued to your face, watching every laugh at one of his dumb jokes, every movement of your lips, every light that caught your eye, wondering how he was so lucky to have met someone as incredible as you.

The sun disappeared behind the buildings, and street lights and neon signs of shops that would usually flicker on stayed dark, in anticipation of the fireworks set to start soon. The streets became more crowded as citizens left their homes and businesses to catch a view of the show.

“I guess we need to find a spot to watch the show.” Wrecker realized, looking up at the surrounding buildings that blocked any view of the sky.

“I know a spot.” You lightly touched his arm, gesturing down the road. Wrecker felt your touch, warmth spreading up his arm and to his chest as he looked at your hand and down at you. He wasn’t wearing his armor tonight, just donned in civvies, a thin layer of clothing separating his skin from yours. “C’mon, this way.” You gently tugged, leading him down between some buildings. He followed, your hand falling off his arm and back to your side. Wrecker had half a mind to take your hand in his, but didn’t want to cross any lines.

“There are stairs that lead up to the rooftop right over here. I come up here sometimes when I need a break.” You turned down an alleyway between buildings, starting up a steep set of stairs that led to the roof. Wrecker started up behind you as you led the way. You both got to the roof, and you weren’t lying about the view. You were above most buildings, your view of the sky unobstructed.

“Hm, the city almost looks nice from up here!” Wrecker joked as you sat on a discarded supply crate.

“That’s why I like to come up here. Get above the city, out from the grime for a little while and clear my head.” You patted the space next to you, inviting him to sit. The crate wasn’t that big, so Wrecker sat close to you, your bodies almost touching, the crate shifting under the added weight of Wrecker. He was worried it might break at first, suddenly feeling massive against your small frame almost pressed up against him. But he relaxed, seeing you comfortable with him being so close.

There was a slight hum of electricity in the air, buzzing between the two of you now that the night had come to its zenith.

Was now the time to tell you how he felt? Wrecker was thinking about it all night, waiting for the right moment to tell you how much tonight meant to him, how much you meant to him.

Wrecker’s mind raced, trying to think how to breach the subject without sounding like a creep or ruining everything. You were having the same thoughts, your leg slightly jiggling in anticipation, trying to think of the right thing to say in the now heavy silence. Wrecker opened his mouth to speak, but a large BOOM rang in your ears, the dark rooftop flashing with light, startling you both.

The show had begun.

Both of your attention went to the sky as more fireworks shot up from all over the city, cracking and banging, colors and sparkles filling the skyline. It was dazzling, and Wrecker couldn’t help but grin as the fireworks exploded above. He had never felt so content, sitting here with you, his stomach full for once, and watching explosions fill the sky. He wanted to pinch himself to make sure this wasn’t a dream.

Wrecker sucked in a breath as one particularly big firework exploded, shimmering in all the colors of the rainbow, lighting the city in different hues, rendering Ord Mantell City almost unrecognizable. But Wrecker wasn’t staring at the fireworks anymore. His eyes were locked on you. Feeling his gaze, you turned your head up toward him, watching as his face desperately searched yours.

The colors reflected in your eyes, haloing over your head as more hues illuminated the darkness around you. You were so radiant, and he was overwhelmed with emotion. “What?” You asked softly, his gaze intensifying. Wrecker’s heart hammered in his chest, wanting to say how amazing you were, how beautiful you were, all the things he thought but never could say out loud. Wrecker let out the breath he was holding. You were waiting.

“You look so beautiful in this lighting, is all.” Wrecker uttered before he could stop himself, the words feeling natural as he spoke what he’s been keeping inside since he first saw you.

Your eyes widened at his soft statement, butterflies dancing in your chest as you watched a deep blush heat up his face.

“You mean that? You think I’m beautiful?” You moved closer to him, reaching out and gently placing your small hand on his much larger one, finally closing the distance between you.

You wanted him to know it was okay, that you wanted nothing more than him.

Maker, you wanted to kiss him.

Wrecker swallowed as he felt your hand on top of his, nodding his head.

“Y-yes…I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen…from the second I saw ya…” Wrecker searched your eyes, the colors seeming to swirl around you. You brought a hand up to his face, brushing your fingers across his scars. You couldn’t find words, hoping your touch would be sufficient in relaying your feelings. He leaned into your hand, moving his head down closer to yours. “I care about you a lot, Wrecker.” Your voice shook with emotion, your own feelings now spilling out. “I’ve liked you for a long time…”

Wrecker stopped breathing as your lips were inches from his, your fingers tracing the side of his face. You needed to feel his lips on yours. “I’ve liked you for a long time, too…” Wrecker whispered, his voice low. “Can…can I kiss you?”

“Yes, please.”

That’s all he needed to hear as Wrecker brought his lips to yours in a gentle, sweet kiss. You were surprised by his tenderness, knowing he was holding back, afraid he might hurt you.

With one hand still on his, Wrecker slowly brought his free hand to your shoulder, squeezing gently, wanting to press you impossibly closer to him. Your lips tasted sweeter than any of your desserts. Soft, perfect. Just like you.

The hand you had on the side of his face continued to caress, causing shivers to run down Wrecker’s spine. He’s never been touched so gently before, and he was completely undone as your lips moved together, the city backdrop falling away, the sounds of the fireworks fading.

The kiss deepened as your want for one another ignited like a firework, shooting up into the unknown and exploding with warmth and fervor.

Wrecker brought the hand that was under yours to the back of your head, his fingers twirling in your hair, bringing you closer to him, careful not to hold you too tightly. You gasped slightly into his mouth at his touches, a different type of desire beginning to burn in your belly, wanting more of him, all of him.

You moved your hands to his biceps, gripping the hard muscle under your fingers, kneading and feeling up his arms to his chest, resting your hands there, feeling his pectorals twitch under your fingers. You knew the power that lay beneath, but he was treating you so carefully, you couldn’t help but melt against him. Wrecker let out his own low groan, feeling your tender touch.

You’ve been wanting him like this for so long, you felt like you were floating, hoping this moment would never end.

Finally, you both pulled away to take a breath you both desperately needed, your lips swollen, breathing in one another’s gasps.

“You taste so much sweeter than I imagined. Better than anything I’ve ever tasted.”

Wrecker panted, wanting more. You were all that existed, all that he needed.

“How often did you imagine that?” Your lips were still close to his, and you could hear the longing in his voice.

“Every day.” He wrapped both arms fully around you, catching your mouth with his again, more passionate, more confident.

You smiled against his lips as his tongue tentatively probed at your lower lip. You let him in, pressing yourself fully against his broad chest, your hands moving from his chest to cradle the sides of his face, the kiss intensifying. He groaned at the sensation of your tongue against his, feeling your soft body under his hands, hoping this wasn’t a dream and he’d wake up without you, alone.

Wrecker became more bold, both his large hands moving to slightly squeeze at your waist, moving up your torso, wishing there wasn’t a barrier of clothing between his hands and your skin. He moved his lips to the the side of your mouth, placing sloppy kisses down the the side of your neck, trying to steady his racing heart as he felt your own rapid pulse against his lips. You lightly touched the back of his head, bringing his face up to yours. You both wanted to continue this dance, your bodies and minds on fire, burning brighter than what was still flashing in the sky, but the fireworks show was almost at its end.

Wrecker nuzzled his nose against yours, pressing light kisses to your cheeks, the side of your jaw, and back up to your lips. He didn’t want to stop tasting you.

“I care about ya a lot...” He muttered between kisses, his voice husky, now feeling lighter than air as his feelings were now out, no longer eating him up on the inside. You hummed in agreement, feeling the same way, trying to get your heart rate under control. “I care about you too, Wrecker. You’re special to me, more than you know.” You laid against his chest, feeling safe and secure in his arms. You sat there for a moment, entangled in one another, watching as the finale extravaganza erupted above you, the real world coming back into focus.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight.” You mumbled into his chest as his hands rubbed your back, knowing you had to leave the roof sooner or later, darkness enveloping you as the last firework shimmered out, lights starting to come back on over the city, marking the end of the show.

“Thanks for saying yes. I regret not asking ya sooner…” He chuckled, his deep laugh reverberating in his chest, feeling the vibrations against your entire body as you sat, watching the city glow and come back to life.

“I guess you’ll just have to take me out more often to make up for it.” You glanced up at him, hugging him tighter.

Wrecker grinned, leaning down and giving you a quick, soft kiss. “I plan on it, if you’ll let me. But tonight’s not over yet, do ya want to get dessert?” He mumbled against your lips. “I always have room for seconds, ya know that.”

His eyes flashed with want, emboldened now that he knew you felt the same way as him.

You smirked slightly, feeling Wrecker’s hands wander again up your torso, teasing the bottom of your shirt as yours traced over his neck and down to his back. “We can head back to my place for dessert, if you’d like.” You caught his meaning, wanting nothing more to continue what you had just started. Wrecker grinned, gripping your sides with anticipation.

“Well what are we waiting for!”

You squealed as you were suddenly lifted up with ease, Wrecker carrying you bridal style as he stood up with you in his arms.

“Lead the way.” He rumbled in your ear as he walked you toward the stairs that led off the rooftop.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him deeply at the top of the stairs, your night far from being over. You laughed as he squeezed you tighter, knowing this was the beginning of something wonderful, something sweet.

@wanderer-six I hope you enjoy this Wrecker juice ☺️

[vargskelegore]

heyy im here with a request for shuri ^__^ how do you think being roommates with her would work? id love to see slow burn, angst, maybe a lil jealousy (nsfw maybe?), and fluff <3 thank you!

oh my god i think it’d be all over the place??? theres a lot of things that could happen, so here is what i think. (also.. all of this is fluff-- with implied sexual stuff. also black reader. forever and always.) this is also illiterate headcanons, meaning it’s not written in the way i write my fics with bulletpoints, its just thoughts i have and i write them down.

literally the reason why you don’t have shuri as your roommate in any of my fics is BECAUSE it would be so dramatic.

i like to think it’s a dream in theory but like pair that with all the other shit, and it would be a bit of a shit show. but in a good way. kinda.

y’all spend so much time decorating the dorm room tbh. lots of records that you and shuri picked up at the local mom & pop record shop.

i also like to think that shuri designed some stupid app for y’all to use to alert each other on dorm room things.

it’s nothing big to her, but to you it means a lot bc it shows she cares about how you two function as roommates.

basically a whole honeymoon phase when you two are first becoming roommates because y’all were already friends

but of course,,,, that kinda ends.

you two had a routine of who did what in terms of “chores”

usually shuri washed your clothes for you. you genuinely never asked her to do it, but she always did it because she was sweet like that.

for her, you would clean up the room.

it’s a healthy balance, and considering y’all are friends, it’s not awkward at all.

you two also eat lunch and dinner together all the time, and usually one of you pays for lunch, the other pays for dinner.

this only became a thing because you hated shuri paying for meals all the time, and so she thought it’d be a better idea for there to be equal playing.

so yeah, y’all live in peace and harmony for a while!

until she’s starting to get comfortable around other people on campus

you can’t blame her bc you literally were the one to give her advice on feeling comfortable around everyone

and since she’s known for being a princess, it’s expected to get attention from people.

but she definitely starts enjoying this attention

don’t get me wrong, she’s humble

but now she’s comfortable with... other girls.

you weren’t worried about guys, honestly.

guys were like. always shut down by her to begin with

or they just saw her as “one of the boys” (a cringe term, but a truthful one)

but because shuri was incredibly attractive, carried herself in a masculine way but knew how to be respectful to women because she is one

all of the girls are falling head over heels for her.

shuri is lowkey oblivious to this too.

like, one time you had dinner alone, some cheap chinese food on fry street or whatever,

you had told shuri but she didn’t even respond. kinda hurt too because y’all loved getting chinese food from this spot on friday nights.

so you’re back at the dorm, probably watching pose on your bed (it’s a very angsty show.. makes sense on why you would watch it.)

eating the chinese food.

and here comes shuri coming back into your dorm with a girl.

yes, you heard me,

a mfkn girl.

now y’all aren’t officially together so you couldn’t say shit but at the same time it’s like, mf you always text me back whenever i tell you plans????? why didn’t you do it this time???

she’s looking at you like ‘oh shit’

and you’re like

“yeah u done goofed, alright.”

and this girl she done brought to y’alls dorm is talkin bout some

“uh.. you didn’t tell me your roommate would be here.. your roommate is a majorette?”

so now this girl has a bone to pick with you as a majorette??? girl huh???

“uh, yeah. i hope that’s not a problem.. i just thought we could watch a movie or something.” shuri is freaking out like craaazy in her head

“..nah, that’s cool. text me later, shuri.” before you know it, that girl was GONE.

the silence between you and shuri is mad awkward now

literally you gotta be the first one to speak

“my text message wasn’t good enough to reply to?” your tone? bitter as hell.

shuri is cringing now bc she KNEW you were gonna bring that up.

“i swear my phone died. i was at a party.” oh shes going to PARTIES without YOU, now???? psh thats CRAZY

because you’re known for usually going to a house party but this time you wanted to chill at the dorm.

“a party, huh? you didn’t ask if i was gonna go?”

“you usually go, so i didn’t think to ask.”

“so now you just assuming?”

the way you two are responding to each other so quickly now is unreal. that’s how you know some shit is going down.

“i don’t see why it matters so much, i want to experience college life too.”

dammit, she has a point.

all you can do is stare at her.

“look, i’m here now, we can just watch whatever-”

“nah, too late now. i’m going to bed.” petty ass reader, you. you want her to KNOW you’re heartbroken 😭

shuri isn’t budging anymore. she can clearly see you don’t want to engage in conversation anymore.

you turn your laptop off, and don’t even bother plugging it in because you’re just so mad.

you turn off that lamp on your side of the room, and you pull them covers over you mad hard and turn around so she can’t see you.

mind you, she’s watching you do all of this.

it’s about twenty minutes of silence. you’re awake during all of this.

now theres some extra weight on your bed.

can you guess what it is?

hint, it’s shuri climbing into your bed to come cuddle you.

“look, i know i fucked up. usually i don’t mess up and not respond like this. i guess i’m just desperate to fit in, especially since this culture is so much different than mine. i want to experience it.” shes whispering in your ear now.

she stops talking for a moment to see if you’ll say anything, but you stay silent to keep pretending that you’re asleep. you can hear her lightly breathing, and god, does it send shivers down your spine.

“i guess i screwed over the person who showed me all of this stuff in the first place. i enjoy being roommates with you, your company is amazing and i wouldn’t want it any other way.”

you hear her stop for a moment, and her breathing stops with it. now she’s choosing her next words carefully.

“i know you’re awake. you don’t have to say anything, but just know, i really appreciate you.”

smooch.

this girl fr kissed your cheek.

now you can sleep in peace.

...

do you see why being roommates with her would be absolutely dramatic, now?

[bosinclairz]

(un)apologetic

thinking abt how mean bo can be sometimes . im not talkin light shit . this wasn’t supposed to be a fic and it wasn’t supposed to end like this lol deeply inspired by @ventiswampwater’s fic squall ( go read it rn )

warnings; abuse , mentions of past abuse , broken bones, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, mommy kink , bo is a piece of shit in this , mentions of rough oral (m receiving) , sub!bo tho :3 , weird dynamic , stockholm syndrome , kinda ooc bo idk , bro suckin on nipples and is weird abt it fr , oral (f receiving) bo cries . i hate this this was a mistake lol my bad yall

—————

he’s not at all the perfect boyfriend . he won’t let you even call him that, but you’ve been in ambrose for two years now , the better half spent with his hand wrapped around your throat, telling you the awfullest things . most times you’ll wake up half way through the day , his cock buried so deep in your throat you’re sure he’s touching whatever’s left of your heart . it belonged to him anyways . other times you’d wake up kneeling in broken glass , bo screaming at you over this little mistake , and the feeling of his hand coming down harshly across your cheek you’re sure you’ve got whiplash now . stupid , you’ve already made a mess and now you’ve gone and gotten hurt doing so . or you’d wake up in the shop , watching bo work underneath a car as he mumbled about tools he needed you to grab for him . you remember when he broke your foot with a wrench once , the metal making short work of cracking your ankle . vincent was the one to wrap it up , and bo never helped you walk after that . you hobbled around everywhere until the pain subsided enough to walk at least a little normally . if you were good , he’d let you lean on him , maybe he’d even carry you back to the house . you always tried your best to appease him , but he’s unpredictable and you can never guess his moods or how he feels about you one minute versus the next .

this is no different . this isn’t something you could ever predict . you didn’t follow him down to the station today . he didn’t want you to . said you were getting on his nerves too much recently , said he couldn’t stand the sight of you . you slept on the couch last night , for the few hours that weren’t filled by your silent sobs . he came home and you almost didn’t recognize him as the cruel man you previously knew , but either way you greeted him with a smile . how was his day ? you asked , making movements to take off his shoes .

“long day, mama,” he muttered. it was so soft you could’ve sworn the sentence ended in a whine . “yeah? tell me about it?” after removing your captors shoes, you stood to full height , ushering him to the couch you had made your bed on . “been thinkin’ too much,” a whisper, “been pushin’ you away an’ i don’ know why.” poor baby , too in his head . who was really the unfortunate one here ? you wouldn’t dare voice this , he’d kill you without a second thought . he never liked being weak .

“lemme make it up t’ya, mama. lemme be good for ya,” his eyes , when they found their way to yours , were broken . he pawed at your chest , silently begging for your permission . you’ve only had the pleasure of seeing him like this twice before . you know what to do by now .

“go on, baby,” you whisper , voice shuddering as he starts to pull up your shirt . somewhere beneath your clothes , bo’s searching for forgiveness.

his mouth wraps around your nipple , sucking and nipping gently . he doesn’t ignore the other , pinching and tugging at it . comfort . he finds comfort in this . why tell you how he feels when he can show it , as long as you never bring this up again .

your hand finds it’s way into his hair, tugging on curls softly as your breath hitches with each tug of his teeth . “you’re so good to me, baby,” you murmur . he’s searching for penance in your warmth , needing to right all the wrongs within your arms . “i have to admit,” your voice is shaky, worrying your words will cause an unwanted shift, “what you said last night has been on my mind today, baby.” a whine .

baby blues open, looking up at you with the most guilt you’ve ever seen bo have . your nipple falls from his mouth , an apology spilling from his lips , “i didn’t mean it, mama, i promise.” it’s sweet , too sweet , and you’re sure the taste of it is rotting his teeth .

silence falls over the both of you , and you wonder who will break first .

you pull him up , your lips meeting his in a passionate kiss . unlike every other time , there’s no malice , no teeth , and maybe if you tasted him hard enough , there was love there . his love tastes like copper , the kind that spills from the fresh wounds he leaves on your skin , reminding you who you belong to . it tastes like gasoline , and a match .

bo is the first to pull back , desperate eyes meeting yours . “lemme make you feel good, mama.” a hand drifts between your thighs , cupping at your sex . “please?” it’s soft and if you weren’t waiting for it , you could’ve missed it .

“yeah - yeah, please, bo.” his body moves down , leaving kisses in his wake as he makes his way between your legs . bo’s tugging down your shorts , exposing your needy , wet core . you didn’t wear underwear anymore , bo’s ripped and torn them all to shreds . that was months ago , and by the way he looks at you , he must’ve forgotten .

“you’re a whore, mama, ain’t that right?” a smirk , and you wonder if this moment would end with a hand around your throat and his dick stuffed deep inside you . you hope it doesn’t . you like this softer side of him . he hasn’t hit you , yet .and if you’re lucky , he won’t .

“yes-“ you gasp as he laps at your cunt , licking up the juices . “you did this,” you mumble, “you gotta fix it. don’t you wanna fix it?” he’s silent , and whether that be from his mouth making you see stars , or from some response dying in his throat , you weren’t sure . but with the way he sucks at your clit , you didn’t much care .

you liked this . you liked this control . in this moment , he was yours in every sense of the word . you wondered if you’d met under other circumstances if it would’ve ended like this , him between your thighs , going down on you with so much fervor you thought he was starving man .

you felt a wetness , and for a moment you thought you must’ve cum without thinking until you realized it was tears . bo was crying , continuing to eat you out like his life depended on it . he mumbled words you soon found out to be “m’sorry mama, please forgive me”.

it made your heart twist in a way that made you nauseous , and you regretted making this about control in that fucked up head of yours . he‘s broken , just as much as you are .

“it’s - fuck - it’s ok, baby,” your high was coming in fast , unable to stop the buck of your hips when he pushes two fingers into you , immediately curling and finding that spot he knows so well .

“ i forgive you “

a hushed cry , and you come undone on his tongue and fingers , pulling at his hair . and for a moment , you forgot who this was for .

“thank you,” bo mumbles , laying his head against your thigh .

it’s soft , so soft you’re sure you’re imagining it , but you swear you hear him utter those three words you’ve been dying to hear ;

“i love you.”

[satorisoup]

hihi lene!! hru? life has been so hectic recently BUT ANYWAYS i saw

i) ur tmnt post speaking of which i love love loveeee tmnt so much:( esp donnie:((

ii) ur shoto art like DUDE UR STYLE IS SO PRETTY I MIGHT CRY I WANT TO CONSUME IT

iii)ur face rev ! ur so PRETTY OMIGOSH I MIGHT CRY (2) ur like an angel!! like,, idk how to describe it i'm not much of a writer outside fics but i'd imagine u to be that one character in a media that no one can hate ! and that's WITHOUT knowing u at all!! ur so sweet youd be the fan favourite forreal!! talk about being gods favourite !! cs u are!!

i tend to ramble a lot im so sorry ><

ALSO I SAW ALL THE TAGS WHEN YOU RB-ED THE BOKUTO FIC AND I ALMOST CRIED AHH UR TOO NICE☹️☹️

anyways, how's life been treating you?? has anything interesting happened recently???

aaaand that's it, sorry for writing this much. im gna sleep now, good night/day/whatever time it is 4 u!

UWAHHHH DARLING HYENA !! (´ᗜ` *) hi hi my love !! ^_^ m’ soso happy to see you in my inbox teehee !! you’re such a delight to talk to !! <3

EEEK OMIGOSH !! A TMNT FAN !! >//< PLS i am soso happy !! tmnt is just the absolute BESTEST !! i wouldn’t be here without it !! <3 and donnie !! he’s my most beloved, isn’t he just the absolute cutest ?? T^T i hold that entire franchise soso dear to my heart !! i could talk about it all day long !! :3

WAHHHH PLS !! T^T YOU ARE TOO KIND !! <3 m’ soso glad you liked it omigoodness !! >_< i’ve been wanting to draw / talk more about mha so i just thought i’d give it a go !! ^_^ THANK YOU SOSO MUCH MY LOVE EEEK !! that means the absolute world to me !! <3

SNIFFLE OMIGOSH !! M’ SOBBING !! T^T m’ soso flattered PLS you are an absolute darling !! <3 m’ blushing and kicking my feet i swear it !! >//< GASPS !! fan favorite ?? SOBSOBSOB MY HEART IS ABSOLUTELY MELTING RIGHT NOW !! you have no idea how much your kind words are makin’ me smile !! :> YOU ARE THE SWEETEST IN THA WORLD HYENA !! THANK YOU SOSOSO MUCH PLS !! ( ˃̣̣̥ᴖ˂̣̣̥ ) i absolutely adore you !! <3

EEEP pls don’t cry teehee !! T^T you deserve all tha love !! the bokuto fic was absolutely PRECIOUS !! i couldn’t of asked for anything better, i was giggling the whole time it was SO CUTE !! it worked soso well with my koene selfship, because in one of me & kou’s timeskip m’ a flower shop owner !! YOU CAPTURED IT ABSOLUTELY PERFECTLY !! <3 your characterization and writing is soso adorable hyena, THANK YOU SOSO MUCH FOR WRITING IT FOR ME !! >//< congratulations again on 200 followers !! m’ soso excited to continue to watch your blog grow !! <3

SOBSOB life has been oki recently !! ^_^ i’ve just been workin’ and having a little bit of trouble with my managers being unfair but other than that i’ve been good !! :> THANK YOU SOSO MUCH FOR ASKIN’ MY LOVE !! <3

UWAHHH also also, you don’t have to apologize for writing a lot / rambling !! i don’t mind one bit !! <3 i absolutely LOVE talkin’ to you, you can say as much as you’d like !! the more the better teehee !! <3 DONT WORRY !! i promise it’s perfectly oki with me !! >//<

TEEHEE how are you doing hyena ?? m’ soso sorry life has been hectic for you recently, m’ hoping things get better for you soon !! T^T have you watched the new blue lock movie ?? I MUST KNOW !! you are an absolute star in the night sky !! m’ sending you all of my bestest wishes & givin’ you soso many smoochies !! MWUUUAH !! <3 🍓

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Peter and Martin argueing over who is whose sugar daddy, both convinced the other is the sugar baby, happily twisting definitions to be right. Ideally this takes place while naked or in bed, though they do not need to acknowledge this in any way

I am just... obsessed with the idea of the sugar daddy and sugar baby dynamic between them because they're both just the worst about it.

Warning: idiots in bed

On with the fic!

--

"Look at this." Peter frowned, holding up a sock. "Ugly, boring, not fit enough to be used as a sock puppet!"

"It's my sock, you silly man." Martin snatched it from him, tossing it over his shoulder. "It does its job of covering my feet, and really now, that should be the last thing on your mind. Don't ruin the afterglow."

"No, I'm gonna ruin it!" Peter kicked his feet, probably doing so to be a brat about things. "It was right next to my head the whole time we were goin' at it, and I just... come on! Wear something with color! White and gray? Nah! I'm buyin' you some new shit, totally in cool colors and styles."

He grabbed his phone. "Hell, let's do it now. While I'm at it, let's get you some better clothes."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Martin frowned, sitting up. He could see his plaid button up hanging from a mounted jackalope skull Peter had on the wall of his bedroom, must have snagged an antler when it got tossed aside. "And stop buying me things, I do have money."

"Look, big guy, the mountain man thing can be hot, but you need a more fittin' style for this place. You stand out like a sore thumb, and that's sayin' somethin'." Peter said as he tapped away at his phone. "And I'm gonna do whatever I want with my money, I'm richer than you."

"I have money."

"And so do I. 'sides, I'm totally your sugar daddy." Peter snorted, then stopped. "No, wait, sugar baby, yeah? I mean, look at you, you're totally a dilf." He winked.

Martin rolled his eyes. "I don't know what that is."

"Dad I'd Like to Fu-"

"Which you've clearly done." Martin gestured to their current location and state of undress, which got Peter cackling. "And if you're a sugar baby, that means I'm the one who pays for things."

"Nuh-uh! A sugar baby is the younger in the relationship, and I've got the money!"

"Just because I was locked away for twenty years does not mean I don't know my terminology, Peter. I am very aware that a sugar baby can be older than the daddy."

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yeah-huh, you little punk. Considering you are insistent on paying for everything, I am, technically, the sugar baby in this relationship."

Peter sat up, huffing. "Please, baby is the last thing anyone is gonna call you."

"You call me that when you're drunk and needy."

"Details, details!" Peter waved a hand about, looking embarrassed. "Fine, if you are so insistent on being the daddy, you pay for things for me."

"You won't let me!"

The actor moved to sit on Martin's lap. "Cause you don't know shit about the modern world, it's so much easier for me to navigate the internet than you."

"I know how to shop in a physical store." Martin, once more, rolled his eyes. "You're just too lazy to venture outside."

"Vegas' sun is dangerous to my poor, British skin, I'll burn in just a matter of minutes."

"Remind me why I'm living with you again?"

"Cause you like me, daddy~!" Peter winked, his grin was of the shit-eating variety. Martin shoved him off his lap.

There was a shout of protest and flailing limbs, Martin snorted. "Again, technically, I'm the sugar baby. Unless if you want me to be your sugar daddy." He growled, smirking, as he moved to crawl over Peter.

"I could pay for things, from my secret accounts of saved up rich doctor's money, and all the stuff I've had set aside my associates for a second life. You'd look so good in new clothes and jewelry bought by a man with dirty money, eh?"

Peter stared at him with wide, bright eyes. "Uhhh... I'd totally let you be the sugar daddy if you keep talkin' like that, big guy."

"That's what I thought." And he leaned in to ravish Peter's mouth, winning the argument before Peter could find some other reason to get his definitions messed up.

--

I am still under the impression that Peter thinks the labels are age-based, and not who actually has the money.

It was weird to write a character calling another 'daddy', not gonna lie, but it seems like something Peter would do, haha.