#unedited as heck

[chilling-seavey]

this is so possessive of George and his breeding kink but imagine you are trying to wear a tight and skintight dress but it won't fit because of your tiny bump and the way your breast are changing

LOVE IT. LOVE IT SM

The string of muttered expletives coming from the ensuite bathroom had George's eyes drifting to the cracked open door. Standing in front of the full length mirror in your bedroom as he tied his tie, he called out to you, "You alright in there, love?"

"No." came your insistent response, words strained in frustration and exertion.

George padded over to the ensuite door and knocked as he nudged it open a little more to peek inside, alerting you of his presence. Of course, you didn't turn him away, letting him get an eyeful of you immensely struggling to get into your cocktail dress. You honestly looked like some attempt at a Picasso sculpture with your arms flung around your torso this way and that, manicured fingernails clawing at your back and the edge of your dress.

"What in the world is going on here?" George asked with a breathy laugh as he rested his shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest.

"My dress won't do up," you huffed, finally getting your hand on the tiny zipper but it wouldn't budge, the fabric sides being held too far apart.

George pushed off the wall and took the half step over to you, "Alright, alright, let me."

You sent a frustrated pout to the bathroom mirror as you dropped your hands to your sides, watching his reflection standing behind you and analyzing the zipper of your dress. His warm fingers brushed over the small of your back, rising the faintest shivers in their wake, and he tugged the fabric of your dress closer together before starting to pull up the zipper. He made it about an inch or two before he was met with resistance.

"See?" you threw a hand out towards the mirror in exasperation.

George glanced up to meet your frustrated gaze in the mirror, the pair of you standing at a 45-degree angle to the vanity. He had this stupid little smile on his face.

"What?" you frowned.

George leaned in closer and let go of your zipper to slide his hands around your front until they rested over the tiny swell of your belly. He answered in the softest voice known to man, "Baby is growing. You're growing."

There was a pause between you as you both stared at yourselves in the mirror and the ever so faint bump revealed under the tight fabric of your dress. Your frustrations eased a bit and you leaned back against his chest, settling your hands on his wrists.

"Oh."

George, without tearing his eyes away from the sight of you in the mirror, licked his lips instinctively. Then, he pulled back to give your hips a squeeze, "Why don't you find another dress then, love? Something looser until we can buy you some maternity clothes."

"But I wanted to wear this dress," you frowned, running your hands over the silk fabric around your waist. The top was still gaping and loose since the zipper wasn't done up but you were adamant that this was the dress you wanted to wear for your special dinner together.

So, like the good husband he was, George had you suck in the best you could so he could yank at the zipper until it finally cooperated with a purposeful zwwwip. Sure, you could hardly breathe and in spots the dress looked like it was about to rip right off you, but you were pleased.

As you stared at yourself in the mirror, your eyes moved from your tiny belly to the genuinely obnoxious swell of your breasts. Once having been held nicely in this form fitting dress, now, to be frank, you resembled a cheap prostitute with how they nearly spilled out of the neckline. Sure, you had known your body was changing with your pregnancy but this damn dress was really the nail in the coffin of realization as to how much.

Your eyes flicked to George in the reflection of the mirror, him still standing beside you and, as if having the same thoughts, his eyes were also trained in shamelessly on your chest. You licked away your amused smile at his expression of awe and then grabbed two handfuls of the front of your dress to try and make yourself look a bit more decent by tugging up the neckline.

"What the fuck." you groaned when the dress that was nearly painted on wouldn't budge.

George stepped up behind you and gently pulled your hands away so he could try, definitely knowing he wasn't going to get much farther but silently wanting an opportunity to touch you without looking too sleezy. But when it was proven that the dress was not going to budge and you were left looking quite...out there...George let himself splay his large hands over the surface area of your breasts as he sighed against your shoulder.

Your momentary frustration melted into an amused smile, resting your hands on the bathroom counter as he gently groped your breasts and then slid his palms down to rub over your tiny belly beneath your dress. He kissed your neck.

"I think baby is being strangulated in this dress," George mumbled against your earlobe, "And as much as I think you look...ravishing...I don't think this is giving the right message for formal dinner."

"Too much boob?"

"No such thing, really, but, yeah," George kissed your shoulder and then rested his chin down to stare at you through the mirror, his arms secure around your middle, "Too much boob."

You jutted out your bottom lip, trying to accept that your favourite dress was now, momentarily, unwearable. It was bittersweet, watching the old you that you were familiar with change to grow life. It would teach you how to fall in love with yourself and your body all over again, in a whole new way.

Before you could even have an inclining of a thought about George's mindset amongst all your changes, he spoke with his hands firmly covering the small swell of your stomach,

"God, you look so fucking gorgeous and I'm so fucking in love with you."

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[flamingpudding]

Jail Buddies

Once a month, Jason makes an effort to meet Dick on purpose. Sometimes even more. After all, he was a good little brother checking in with his brother. Though he had a rather uncontroversial way of doing so. One that involved getting led into a jail cell of your local police department and loudly demanding to speak to Officer Grayson.

Okay, maybe it wasn't like that it was an effort to check on his brother and just one of his many listed dumb moments of recklessness he got caught for. And he was maybe using his brother to get out without having to call Cass, Steph, Duke, Tim, Damian, Alfred or Bruce, in that order depending who was willing to bail him out every time Dick had his 'Little Wing you won't learn if I keep bailing you out.'-Phases again. Or if Dick was being petty because of a recent prank war.

Either way, while Jason was waiting for Dick to make his entrance in his cell he noticed the teen boy sharing the cell with him staring at him wide eyed. He arched an eyebrow, and decided on a whim to make friendly conversation.

"So what got you here kid?"

The teen blinked as if just realizing Jason had addressed him before grinning a bit feral, his blue eyes having an unnatural glow. "Vandalism."

Jason's eyebrow rose again, but the teen continued.

"Trashed mu place and gave my guardian's car a pretty paint job and some other stuff."

"You vandalized your own place? And got arrested."

"Fruitloop decided an overnight stay was a better punishment then leaving me unattended."

The teen shrugged and Jason couldn't help but feel like he just had heard a red flag. He opened his mouth to question the kid more but than his brother finally made his entrance.

"Little Wing! What did you do this time!?" Jason could see that Dick was out to start a rant but changed tunes when he noticed the teen.

"Danny or Dan? You are here again? When did they bring you in? Trouble at home?" Dick asked, and Jason clearly saw the telltale signs of information fishing bat style.

"Danny and the usual." Danny, as Jason now learned the kid's name was, shrugged nonchalantly like this wasn't the first time he and Dick had had that exchange.

"Seriously buddy? I had a rebellious phase as teen too but to regularly trash your home to the point that someone calls the police or vandalize your guardian's cars, buildings, advertisements or anything that has to do with him is not a solution kid." Jason arched an eyebrow at Dicks tone, feeling slightly reminded of whenever Dick lectured one of them.

"Oh I know. But it's a nice stress reliever, plus you guys are nice here. I get pizza as dinner whenever I stay the night." The kid grinned and Jason couldn't help the snort that earned him a little glare from Dick.

Instead of arguing further his brother let out a suffering sigh and let Jason out of the cell, waving him towards the exit and following him shortly after giving the kid one more look that looked like a mix between stern and pleading to stop being a rebellious teen.

Once out of earshot, Jason then chose to ask. "So what's the kid's deal?"

"Nothing, just a rebellious teen reminds me of Damian when he first appeared. He has a twin and a little sister as far as I know, both of them also known here. Their guardian is an upstanding man, though." Jason heard the hidden but.

"Did someone look into it?" He hummed more as a cover.

"Higher ups don't know, but i am running an investigation." Translation Bruce is unaware, but Dick was using Bat resources for looking into the kid's residence.

"Nice kid, didn't think he was a regular." He only commented.

"Nice and polite, you wouldn't think he did some of the things he was brought in for. Distrustful though, despite his friendly nature."

Jason nodded as Dick went through the papers to bail him out, a thought popping up in his head. Clearly, something was up with the kid that had his brother worried, and it looked like he was stuck on just doing his investigation. So, being the thoughtful little brother he was, Jason decided to help his brother.

In his uncontroversial ways, of course.

"Yo Danny, also here?" Jason grinned as he was led into the same cell the teen was in a week later.

[creating-by-starlight]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Fringe (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: September (Donald) & Michael Characters: September (Fringe), Michael (Fringe) Additional Tags: The Final Timeline (Fringe), Memory Related, Father-Son Relationship, Mentioned Bishop-Dunham Family, Author is Christian and Inserts Her Christian Takes, No Beta We Die Like Windmark, Written Way Too Late in the Evening and Is Probably Nonsensical but It Was Written Series: Part 1 of Memories of Grace Summary:

In the Final Timeline, young Donald gains some odd memories, seemingly from another life. Something's not quite clicking, though.

[alfhildr-the-word-weaver]

It's wild because I have exactly one episode of Vampire Diaries left and I've been saving it since *checks blog* a little over a week ago (versus the six episodes a night I was watching back in season 1) and I keep telling myself I have to watch the ending if only so I know what I'm working with in fic but also I do want to see the return of Elena (and Katherine) but also I don't want to see Stefan die (or Damon and Elena in a flashforward apparently? How will they have time for all this, honestly?) but I do want to see how they manage to break the curse with Bonnie still alive (but maybe it wouldn't be so bad to write my fic without knowing) but I don't know. I'm notorious for not watching the last few episodes of shows I love (White Collar, Psych, Once Upon a Time, although that last I ragequit over many minor grievances with multiple seasons left so it's not really the same thing) but I keep telling myself that if you don't watch the end of a thing then you just have less of the thing that you love but like I turned the TV on to watch it just now and I'm actually so nervous? I both do and don't want to watch it so intensely, so I had to open up tumblr and blog about it. I could save it another week but I want to watch it before the intensity of my obsession starts to fade but I know this is going to hurt me, emotionally and profoundly. Maybe I can stretch it out to two episodes by stopping in the middle or something idk. But aaaaaaaaa I don't know I'm not ready but I feel like I have to watch it. Help me I don't know. I need some of you internet people to come over and watch this with me or something lol I don't know. I'm so nervous I'm not prepared but I don't want to put this off forever either. And once it's done I could start rewatching. But like, aaaaaaaaa!!

[kukurubean]

I forgot to look at dye channels but phoenixs glow up is definitely the most extreme out of my characters

[t3ag3rs]

♡ younger! s/o x bakugou headcannons !

YALL DONT THINK OF THIS IN A P3DO SENSE, I MEAN IT IN A WHOLESOME WAY. PLS DONT ATTACK ME. fair warning: this is HEAVILY unedited... pt. 2

you first meet each other when your mom invites his family over for lunch due to her and his mom working together. (yes this is gonna be a moms friends son trope bc thats whats happening to me 😈).

you walk down to greet the family- completely expecting to see the ugliest boy youve seen in your life. only to find out hes a ua student, built, and ofc... super fucking hot...

bakugou just stares at you blankly as you walk up and say hello to his parents and him.

recognizing his mom, you give her a hug with a big smile as she does the same.

"y/n! meet my son katsuki! hes a year older than you, but you two should get along just fine!" introduces mitsuki happily.

all you manage is a nod in response as you meet his gaze again. "um... nice to meet you bakugou.." you say smiling slightly. "just call me katsuki..." he responds gruffly as he stuffs his hands further into his pockets.

"y/n.. why dont you take katsuki upstairs and let him play on my ps5?" says your dad jokingly as he nudges your shoulder. you roll your eyes with a grin before motioning him to follow you back upstairs.

as you turn on the ps5 you hand him the controller, "we only have cod right now..." you say apologetically. "so, i heard you go to ua right...?" you ask questioningly as you sit on the other side of the couch facing him.

"yeah im in the hero program" he responds focusing on the game playing in front of him. you nod you head thoughtfully at his response "what year are you in katsuki..?"

"im in my final year, what about you...?" he says finally glancing back at you with his carmine eyes. "uh... im in 3rd year" you say fumbling over your words slightly.

"damn your young.." he chuckles as he shakes his head slightly, "hey at least im not about to go to college.." you retort with a small smirk.

bakugou cant help but grin at your response, "you calling me old shorty?" he asks with a slight smirk.

you internally melt at the sight but remain composed, "hey, im just being realistic here.." you respond as you raise your hands up.

"realistic my ass.." he mutters quickly turning back to the game, "what ass are you talking about katsuki?" you ask with a laugh.

suddenly, you hear the sound of laughter and turn to see his head thrown back as he struggles to keep himself composed, "you- you should not being saying stuff like that shorty..." he says in between chuckles.

throughout the rest of the time you and bakugou start talking more and more, almost as if you two were old friends reconnecting. heck, even his parents were surprised to see him actually talking to you like a normal person.

just before they leave you stand by the door quickly responding to a friends message. "shorty.." he calls, making you look up to see him handing you his phone. "lets stay in touch so i can keep an eye on ur bratty ass.." bakugou gruffs blushing slightly.

you widen your eyes but quickly agree as you type in your number. "ill text you soon shortcakes.." he grins before ruffling your hair and walking out right beside his parents.

All you can do is stand there rooted in your spot with flushed cheeks, grinning like a delusional idiot

[chatterbox-73]

Smut book 2024.

After hours.

Tenya Iida x fem!Reader.

This story is a smut story, I’ll more characters x reader one shots in the future and if you want to see a character please let me know.

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/N: this is a request and I honestly love it… I’m a total sucker for Iida… I hope I did it justice.😅

@123344myah

Also I’ve changed the name of a certain phone app because firstly I kinda don’t think they’d have SC in the mha universe, secondly don’t think I should be using TM names and finally why the heck not…😁 Pictalk = SC. (I know real creative..😂)

Picture is edited by me… it’s been sitting in my gallery for some time, waiting for the right chance to be used. (Original unedited manga panel from ‘tada no renai nanka de kikkonai’)

Summary: you sneak into Iida’s dorm room for some after hours funny and getting caught is the last thing on your mind.

Word count: 4.1k

CW: NSFW and adult content, oral (f!Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, dirty talk, sexting, sending nudes, rough sex, missionary and doggy, teasing, pet names, pleasure dom!Iida, spanking, slight degradation and swearing. (All characters are aged up)

You sat at the small floor table in the middle of your boyfriend’s dorm room, you watched intently as the man sitting across from you wrote large and seemingly unending paragraphs, while your own workbook remanded bare. The man looked up from his page to you with a curious look, “is something the matter?” He asked looking down at your book noticing it’s emptiness, while focused on your book you leant over and pressed a lingering kiss on his lips, “I just need to do that, I couldn’t focus until I got a taste” you smiled and licked your lips, the man looked at you with shock before sitting back and resting on his palm, “you know I’ll need payback now” Iida spoke as he look at you lips that had your lipstick smeared over them.

Tenya iida was such a reliable and caring boyfriend, he always took such good care of you and expected nothing in return, however he has always been quite prideful and this has resulted in him frequently trying to get even, it doesn’t matter how small the incident, he’s incredibly petty but you honestly love it about him, though you probably wouldn’t say it. Tenya often gets quite embarrassed by affection and will almost always shy away from it, but in small moments the man will soothe and comfort you.

You’re broken from your thoughts as you feel Iida’s callus thumb rub over your bottom lip, he wiped away the smudged lipstick before holding your chin and leaning in, however just before your lips had a chance to touch Iida’s dorm room door open suddenly, you both jumped away from each other and looked to the door, “now I’m certain there’s a ‘open door’ rule for when you’re studying with girls…” aizawa sighed as he looked at Iida with a tired expression. “Yes, I now remember that rule being mentioned, once or twice” Iida looked to you and all you could do was snicker, “yep, sounds about right” you cough out as you begin gathering your books and stationary from the table, you stood and quickly left the room with all your belongings, as you exited the room you heard Aizawa tell Iida it was lights out, before you could run off however the teacher stopped you, “straight to your dorm room… and no coming back here, study is over it’s lights out” he closed Iida’s door and turned to look at you, you nod “I haven’t had a chance to bathe, can I do that before I go to sleep?” You asked and the man sighs, it didn’t take a fortune teller to guess what you’d try and do, but Aizawa figured he should give you the benefit of the doubt, he should trust you, “fine… you can bathe, but no funny business… not tonight” he huffed and walked away muttering something about an argument between Midoriya and Bakugo.

You got back into your dorm room and packed away all your books and stationary before grabbing your bath bag, night clothes and towel, before making the trip to the bathroom. Getting into the bathroom you pulled out your phone and placed it on the side of the bathtub while you turned on the water waiting for the tub to fill, as you waited you undressed and began scrubbing your body at one of the washing stations, as you finished the bath water was full and you settled in.

You leaned your head back with your eyes closed for quite sometime before pulling out your phone and scrolling through it, watching random videos before a Pictalk notification popped in the top corner of your screen, clicking it a picture of a dark room with the caption that read

‘how much trouble did you get in?’

You smiled and snapped a picture of the steamy bathroom mirror and captioned it with.

‘None really… just a “don’t come back here, study is over >:(“‘

You chuckled and pulled yourself out of the water, sitting on the edge of the tub still allowing your legs to soak, another notification popped up and you clicked into it. It was of Iida’s neatly made bed.

‘Haha… you’re only bathing now?’

You smiled and shook your head, before taking a picture of your bare legs resting in the water.

‘Yeah, someone kept me busy with studying’

You watched the speech bubble in the messages pop up before disappearing and reappearing several times before finally you received a picture response, this picture was of Iida pulling a playful frown.

‘Are you trying to start something?’

You laughed at his expression before stepping out of the bath and emptying the water, as the bath drained you walked over to the mirror and wiped away a little of the steam, only leaving enough to cover below your hips, you stood in front of the mirror and covered a hand over your breasts before smiling and taking a picture, you send the picture with the caption.

‘start something? But I’m a good girl’

You waited patiently for Iida’s response while you dried yourself, then came in the next picture, Iida had also sent a picture of him standing in his mirror shirtless and one hand resting over his clothes crotch. The picture was captioned.

‘You’re testing my patience baby’

You smiled and wondered how far you could take this before one of you got impatient, though the way things are going anyone else would think Iida was moments away from giving in but that just wasn’t the case and the both of you knew it, you wipe down the rest of the mirror before sitting back on the ground and open your legs, you rubbed two fingers over your entrance before sliding them in, you took a picture of yourself through the mirror, with your best ‘O’ face and the caption.

‘So warm and wet…’

You waited and as you did your fingers worked in and out of you before moving to rubbed your clit, moaning you almost didn’t hear your phone chime, opening the picture you blushed and chuckled as you saw Iida’s long and thick member on the screen, he only have two fingers wrapped around the base, this time no caption was with the picture. However a voice note was sent moments later.

“I bet that pussy is nice and ready, you always are”

You heard the chuckle and groan in his voice and you knew exactly what he was doing while sending that voice note, you sent back a voice note.

“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours”

Iida knew exactly what you were asking but instead all you got back was nothing, no voice note, no picture, not even a message, you scrambled to get dressed in your night clothes and grabbed your belongings. You walk down to the laundry room and put your clothes and towel in the washing machine, and left your bath bag next to the machine you were using, after this you wasted no time going to Iida’s dorm room.

You opened the door and walked in, the room was dark and as you looked towards Iida’s bed you noticed he was laying back with his blanket over him, he was fully dress in his goofy pyjamas, he looked as though he wasn’t just sending you dirty messages, “Tenya… Tenya you need to be awake” you whispered and walked over to him, you knew he wasn’t asleep, you had seen him sleep plenty of times so you knew he was awake, “Tenya sit up and take care of me” you whined as you grabbed at his pyjama top, the man chuckled as he sat up and looked down at you, “you’re such a greedy girl… we were told lights out and yet you’re here because of a picture” Iida sighed and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess it can’t be helped… strip for me please” he smiled and you stood and moved to take off your shirt before stopping and looking to your boyfriend, “what about you?” You asked and Iida frowned “I said strip” he snapped and you quickly began removing your shirt, Iida nodded and looked at your breasts before he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, he motioned for you to step closer to him, so he could grab your arms and pressed them into your sides, your face became flushed as Iida trailed his tongue up your stomach to your sternum, he stopped and placed a kiss on your skin before moving to lick over your right nipping, you whined and pressed your legs together, before the man moved onto your other nipping this time suckling on it, “you’re sucking it like a baby” you breathlessly chuckled, Iida looked up at you with a hard stare before biting roughly on the side of your breast, you yelped and your boyfriend pulled you down slightly to capture your lips in an open mouth kiss, you gasped and cried out in surprise as Iida tongue took control over your mouth, the way he’s slurp and wriggle his tongue reminded you of all the times he’d eat you out.

Pulling away from you and loosing his grip, allowing his hand to slide down your arms and rest on your hips before he slowly pulled down your pants, leaving you in nothing but the pink girlish panties you’d normally never let Tenya see. “Aww how cute” he laughed as he kissed just above your waistband, “it’s not funny, I didn’t think when I grabbed them” you whined and felt Iida move you onto his bed to lay down on your back, “I think they’re cute… they’re so innocent and sweet” he smiled as he leaned in and whispered in your ear “reminds me of our first time… you were such a good girl, so patient” his voice was hushed and relaxed as he slowly pulled your panties to the side before leaning down and pressing a soft kiss over your entrance, “how badly do you want it greedy girl?” Iida asked, his hot breath brushing over your cunt, you whined and wiggled your hips “so badly… I need it” you moaned softly, trying to keep your voice down.

You cried out as you felt your boyfriend’s tongue lick slow strips up the length of your cunt, “more… Tenya, I need more…” you whimpered encouraging your boyfriend, Iida was a beast the way he’d devour you, you were certain given the chance Iida would eat you anywhere and anytime, he’d always put his all into eating you, he’d lick; suck and slurp, Iida was a shameless man when it came to having you on his tongue, he’d say the most vile and lewd things you’d ever heard from him, it was honestly pornography the things he’d come out with; and this time was no different.

“You taste like heaven… if men knew just how sweet you tasted, they’d be on their knees praying to you” he groaned as he licked between your folds, before wriggling his tongue inside you, “I’d lick your cunt raw if only you’d let me… I’d eat you every minute of the day and only take breaks to fuck you” he moaned into you before kissing up to your clit before wrapping his lips around it and suckling on it for dear life, you cried out loudly completely foregetting where you were, “tenya I’m… I’m…” you arched you back and wrapped your legs around Iida’s head as you grabbed roughly at his neatly groomed hair, “…oh god… yes tenya… yes…” you whimpered as your body seized up and you began coming undone on your boyfriend’s mouth, he groaned and moved back your entrance, sliding his tongue back into you as his fingers began rubbing quickly over your clit, “holy fuck… ten… oh tenya” you gasped as you started to and push Iida away, however he only continued. You took a sharp breath in, then took another and another, before suddenly losing the ability to breath, it took Iida only a few seconds to realise what was happening behind he moved up to you and brushed your hair from your face, “breath baby, breath out” he encouraged as his thumb rubbed soft circles on your jaw, you breathed out quickly before sucking in a deep breath, while Iida continued encouraging you.

Once fully calm your boyfriend chuckled and settled himself between your legs, “that was scary… you wanna continue?” He asked as he leant back down ready to pick up where he left off, “I wanna… but not like that… I wanna have you inside me” you hummed as you pulled off your underwear and opened your legs as wide as you could, “I want it all inside, to the base Tenya” you used your fingers to spread your folds apart as your laid back and waited for your boyfriend. Iida watched your cunt intensely as it squeezed around nothing, before he pulled off his shirt and pulled his throbbing cock from his pants, shifting the fabric down only enough for him to hang comfortably, the man pumped himself slowly and reached into his bedside table for a condom before rolling down his shaft and spitting on himself rubbing his saliva over his shaft, he than leant down and spat a large ball of saliva over your entrance, “hmmm… nice and wet… you’ll take it all in one now” he hummed as he prodded at your hole with his tip, pushing his saliva in and out, getting his tip wet.

Iida watched your cunt grip him tightly as he began to slowly slide in, once his cock was fully hilted inside you, you both moaned and Iida pressed his forehead against yours, “god fucking damn it… it feels good” he huffed out a string of cusses and rubbed your hips with his thumb as he waited for you to encourage him to move.

Iida had always been a giver, though he disguised it as petty payback… which it partly was… however with that being said Iida was always safe, he never acted reckless or overdid it, though this time was different.

Your hands grabbed Iida’s thick biceps as he gave you long and hard thrusts that caused the bed to thump into the wall, “Christ… you’re perfect” he moaned and grabbed a hold of your legs, he looked down at where the two of you met and smiled, watching the way your walls and opening clung to him so tightly, creating a delicious drag however because of this it was almost too hard for him to set an even pace, “please… more… I need it harder” you moaned as you dug your nails into he’s shoulders, Iida chuckled and began a strong pace. The man groaned and moaned as he held you down while he pushed into you a little bit harder and faster with every thrust, he’d moaned out obscenities while you simply took in the view, you’d finished several times already on his cock and looking down you could see a white ring form around the base of Iida’s cock, “Tenya… Tenya wait” you whine and place a hand on his chest to push him back, “what’s the matter? Is it starting to hurt? Should we stop?” He asked as he pulled out and grabbed the side of your cheek, you shook your head and leaned up “I’m fine, but I know you’ve been holding out for so long… so I want you to enjoy yourself a little” you hummed as you turn over and push your ass up into the air while pressing your face and chest into Iida’s mattress. Iida moved in and began looking over your wet folds, he rubbed his thumb over your cunt before using it to open you up for himself, “baby I’m always happy just giving you whatever you need, but this…” he groaned as he rubbed his tip over your clit, “you really want me to take what I need?” He questioned and you moaned, nodding your head and looking back at him, “I’m beyond satisfied, now I need to feel you cum” you whined as you reached back and grabbed a hold of the condom cover your boyfriend, before you began pulling it off him, the man moaned only to then quickly thrust into you once you pulled the condom completely off and discarded it on the floor, you grasped as Iida set into a brutal pace faster and harder then before, roughly holding your hips to stop your for jolting forward into the headboard, he’d roll his hips every so often and tried to get as deep as your body would allow him.

“I’m gonna cum so deep in you… I’m gonna use you up so no one else will want you” iida moaned as he threw his head back and grabbed at your ass cheeks, harshly smacking them every so often, “you dirty whore… you want that, don’t you?” Another harsh smack followed this and you responded with nothing but a whine. You can’t seem to form a coherent sentence, all that comes out of you is a jumble of words followed by moaning and whining, you were enjoying this, enjoying this more than maybe you should’ve been, “you’re squeezing so tightly…” Iida hummed as he further picked up his pace, he let out a laugh as he grabbed your waist and pulled you back into his thrusts, you could feel him twitching and pulsing with each thrust, “you sure you want it inside… cause if you don’t… I… I won’t” he moaned grinding his hips into you, “yes… god yes… inside please… Tenya please!” You cried loud before quickly having your face shoved into Iida’s pillows, “baby I love hearing your voice but shut the fuck up” he groaned as he held your head in place, while continuing his vicious assault on your cunt. Iida’s breaths become uneven and he lets go of your head and move his hand back to your ass, he grabbed at the flesh and watched as he began long quick, yet uneven thrusts. “Fuck baby, fuck…” he huffed as his hip’s faulted and snapped in towards you, you felt him shutter, soon an indescribable warmth filled your belly, your legs shook and your cunt squeezed uncontrollably, causing Iida to pulled out and begin fingering you, working you through your final orgasm of the night. “Shit… shit baby…” Iida sighed as he sat back on his bed, you crawled over to him weakly and climbed into his lap, “we fucked up… I shouldn’t have let you take it off… I should’ve kept the condom on” he huffed as he rested his head back against the wall, “it’s okay, I’m on the pill” you smiled however Iida did not return that smile, “it doesn’t matter… it was still so reckless of me… to allow you to seduce me into such dangerous play…” he hummed and hugged into you and pressed his face into your neck, “you make me a truly weak man” he sighed and began kissing your neck, “let’s not risk doing it raw again, I’m not a strong enough man for that just yet” he moaned and you couldn’t help but laugh, here was the overly serious and proper boyfriend you fell head over heels in love with, “we could always go one more round, I don’t feel full enough yet” you joked and felt Iida bite your neck before sitting up and frowning at you, “okay, I’ll stop… though it was nice” you hum and quickly stand up, walking into the toilet in the room, “I need a washcloth tenya” you call and heard the man stand from the bed before walking into the toilet with a wet washcloth, “do you need help darling?” Iida passed you the cloth and you nodded as you took it, “yeah it’s pretty deep in, I can’t possibly reach it” you said with a wide smirk, Iida sighed and knelt down “alright I’ll help you”.

_

You sat in class as All Might finished up giving his feedback on today class, he finally ended his little lecture and dismissed the class but before anyone could stand and leave for the dormitory Aizawa stopped everyone as if he had been waiting outside the classroom door just for All Might to finish, “Bakugo, Midoriya, Iida and L/n, all of you are to stay back” he spoke before letting everybody else leave, All might gave Midoriya a nervous look before leaving himself. All four of you sat facing Aizawa as he sat down on the stool that had been moved into the classroom after he’d lost his leg, “now Bakugo and Midoriya, you both know fighting at school outside of training is prohibited and to fight in the dormitory is next level irresponsible, both of you will have two weeks of after class detention… now get out of my site” he grumbled and both boy stood, beginning to leave, however Midoriya stop near Iida and in a not so quiet whisper “I’ll wait for you out in the hallway” he smiled and Aizawa quickly piped in, “absolutely not… get back to the dormitory” he scolded and this made Midoriya scramble out the door, closing it behind him.

“Now you two, you know why I have you here… don’t you?” Aizawa crossed his arms and looked between the both of you, Iida swallowed as you tried your hardest to keep a straight face. “I have some ideas” your eyes shifted to the side and you smiled nervously, “very funny L/n, but maybe next time you decide to give Iida a past curfew visit make sure I’ve actually finished my rounds…” his frown deepened and you could feel your face go red, “it was quite a surprise to be finished up then suddenly heard a woman’s cries though the boy’s half of the dormitory” Aizawa looked towards Iida and from the corner of your eye, you could see your boyfriend struggling to make eye contact with the teacher, “and then all the banging of what I presume was your bed frame… but hey maybe I’m wrong and you were decorating, and you were just cheering on all his hard work” Aizawa’s face still held a straightness despite his very obvious frustration, “look, you can’t be doing that kind of stuff so freely and openly, if the wrong person heard that or even if someone was able to get a picture or video of you two… because you know how driven some of your classmates are…” Aizawa sighed and uncrossed his arms “if something like that happened to get out to the media, it’d ruin your careers before they have a chance to actually begin…” Aizawa spoke so calmly it was unnerving, he then looked at you and continued on “L/n the public wouldn’t see you as some sweet little sister anymore, you’d be seen as some whore who seduced an honest and just man…” his expression softened and you looked down in shame before he moved onto Iida, “and Iida, the public would start saying your a weak willed man, if you’re lucky… or they’d treat you like a monster for defiling a precious young woman” he said and leant back in his chair with a sigh, Aizawa pinched is nose bridge “you both need to be more careful, I’m not saying you can’t do that you’re both adults and will be out of here in a few months, but you need to think about your image, so no doing that here and no going to love hotels, doing it at one of your homes where your privacy is respected… and you’ll be having two weeks of detention with Midoriya and Bakugo” he grumbled and stood ready to leave, “get out of here, now” he said as he pointed to the door, both you and Iida speedily left the room as you both exited you had Aizawa muttered under his breath questioning how he hadn’t gone grey yet.

“I think it was worth it…” you said walking along side Iida and after a moment of silence the man chuckled, “yeah it was, I’m disappointed in us… but it definitely was worth it” he added and shook his head in amusement, “worth it enough to do it again” you smiled and grabbed Iida’s hand, “its tempting, but no… I’m pissed about the idea of all those guys hearing you” he said and brought the back of your hand up to his lips kissing it before the both of you walked back to your dorm laughing about everything.

[sttm99]

CW...? Recreational drug use, swearing

Unedited. I just wanted to get this out of my drafts

"Shit!"

Sero swore loudly as he gripped his phone, eyes narrowed and glaring into the screen, before he haphazardly threw it on to the bed next to his, Bakugo's, and the edge hit the blonde on his shin.

"Fuck is wrong with you, Duct Tape?!" Bakugo yells out in anger, immediately reaching down to rub St his shin, his other hand gripping his pillow in preparation to chuck it at Sero's head.

"Dude says supply's delayed. The stuff's coming tomorrow instead." Sero groans, falling backwards unto his own pillow, unconsciously but successfully evading the pillow Bakugo threw at his head.

"Seriously?" Kaminari groans loudly.

"Fuck," Bakugo grumbles. "I'm fucking stressed, I need some shit today."

Kirishima hums in affirmation and the boys all grumble in their shared bedroom.

UA had organised a week-long trip in a nice beach house near the edge of the city, for their year, a sort of getaway to welcome in the new session. At least that was what they were told. Classes A and I were paired together for the same week, seeing as the house wasn't big enough for all the classes to use at the same time.

And due to the fact that they'd been paired with a Management Course class, the Hero students had believed the trip to be solely for relaxation, and extracurricular.

And boy, were they wrong.

They'd been training non-stop.

Even the Management course students had to partake in some exercises alongside their daily assignments. It was only day 4 and everyone was nearing their breaking point.

Which was why Sero had convinced Bakugo, Kirishima and Kaminari to pool some money together and buy some weed to take the edge of their stress.

For some reason, Sero knew a supplier and ordered a batch of 35 grams, something to get them through the rest of the week, and the boys were admittedly excited for it to come, even Bakugo, despite his haughty words of not wanting shit inside his body.

Unfortunately, the supply got delayed to the next day.

"You guys though, I know where we can get some stuff." They all turned to look at Kaminari.

And that was how they began their journey to sneak up to one of the rooms the Management course girls were occupying, specifically the one belonging to one of Kaminari's 'friends'.

"I swear, if we get caught searching for weed, I'm fucking skinning you alive, dipshit." Bakugo grumbled, hands stuffed tightly in the pocket of his sweatpants as he padded softly across the hall of the second floor, right above his own.

It was late, way too late for this. The teachers were sleeping, their classmates were sleeping, everyone was sleeping due to the stress of the week. Heck, they should have been sleeping. But no! They'd all agreed to Sero's stupid idea of drinking lots of coffee right before training so they could still be awake afterwards in order to smoke.

Bakugo huffed in frustration. Why on earth did he ever think Sero had good ideas?

"Shhh," Kaminari whispered as he paused by a door, "You don't wanna wake up the wrong people." He had his ears pressed to the wood, trying to hear movement, determining if anyone was awake.

"You hear anything?" Sero whispered, leaning atop Kaminari's body.

"Yeah," he replied before softly knocking on the door.

There was silent for a moment, before hurried hushes and loud whispers could be heard from behind the door. Kaminari grinned slyly, Sero pumped his fists in the air, Bakugo rolled his eyes, inching forward as well.

A loud thud was heard, a shake against the door, then it was hastily pulled open, revealing a tall, blonde girl, in just tiny sleep shorts and a lacy bralette that did nothing to hide her breasts.

Kirishima quickly averted his eyes at that.

The girl didn't notice, the obvious tells of a high showing on her; loopy smile and blown out pupils. She swayed against the door, "Guys..." she said, her speech drawn out, "It's boys~"

But before she could continue, she was hastily shoved to the side, a yelp coming from her lips as her body fell to the left and another arm shot out to reduce how open the door was, shielding her and what Bakugo suspected to be other, barely dressed girls.

"What do you want? It's late?" Another girl popped into the frame, you.

Dressed in a small, tight fitting shirt and large, knee length shorts, you held the door close, your body blocking the boys from being able to see inside your room.

"(Y/n)," Kaminari greeted with a grin.

You quirked up a brow, eyes scanning over the boys he'd come with. Bakugo wanted to believe your gaze had lingered longer on him, because he couldn't tear his away from you.

Your eyes were dazed as well, pupils large, and your balance was off, but you were more clear headed that the blonde girl before you, and you had your eyes narrowed at them.

"Fuck do you want, Kami?" Bakugo could tell you were trying hard not to let your speech draw, but your voice was soothing, nice. "It's late."

But he was growing impatient, and just slightly frustrated with how his friends eyed you. Not like he even had any right to be possessive.

"You got any good stuff?" Kaminari whispered lowly, eyes as wide as his grin.

You furrowed your brows, trying to feign ignorance, even though they could smell the weed under the harsh scent of perfume you'd drowned yourself in to cover your tracks.

"You know..." Sero whined. "Good stuff."

Bakugo had had enough of their beating around the bush, shoving past the two boys and placing his hands on the frame and the wooden expanse of your door. You gasped as he leaned forward, getting his face close to yours, breathing in your labored breath, and giving you a sly grin at the scent of weed pouring from your lips.

"Weed. I smell it on you. Pass us some, will ya?" He said slowly, his voice low and so close to you.

You couldn't help the purse of your lips or how your gaze just momentarily drifted to his mouth.

"You wanna buy it? It's not free." You retorted.

"We got some coming tomorrow. We'll pay back."

You narrowed your eyes, considering it. You wanted to say 'no', he could be lying. But when he spoke to you in that stupidly sexy, raspy voice, with your head light from your blunt, you couldn't help but want to do what he said.

"I got pre-rolled blunts. How many you need?" You breathed out.

"Four." He muttered.

"Five," Kirishima interjected. "Shinsou's coming too." He said when Bakugo turned back to raise his brow at him.

You took the opportunity to admire his side profile.

"You pay back 10 grams, that's 5 skinny blunts." You spoke up.

"Deal," Bakugo whipped his head back to you, licking at his lower lip.

"You pay back tomorrow."

"Wait, noo~" a voice calls out from behind the door, and a mop of black hair enters the frame, arms wrapping around your shoulders, and you turn your attention to your friend. "We're gonna be at Kento's tomorrow." She said.

You pushed her off you, distaste curling your lips. "I'll be here. You can give it to me tomorrow."

Bakugo nodded once, his eyes wandering down your legs. "That's fine. The blunts then?" He asked.

You gave him a look once more before pushing the door open a bit more and turning round to walk into the room. He could see your legs wobble as you walked, could see your ass jiggle as you moved. He bit at his lower lip.

You almost tripped as you knelt between two beds, bending your torso to the ground and reaching underneath the bed on your left, your ass lifted in Bakugo's direction, in perfect view.

He felt himself begin to harden at the sight of it. You had to be doing it on purpose, tempting him.

All too soon, you were getting back up, a small box in your hand, and you picked out five pre rolled blunts, then you were pushing the box back underneath the bed and standing up, walking back over to the door and handing Bakugo the blunts.

"Don't forget tomorrow, you hear me?" You narrowed your eyes, knowing full well you probably didn't look the slightest bit intimidating.

Bakugo smirked down at you, leaning closer just a bit, drowning you in his height, his presence, the heat radiating off his body. "'Course I won't." He turned back momentarily to hand Sero and Kirishima the blunts.

"You can leave now," You said, smirking slightly, eyes dazed and lower lip caught between your teeth.

"See you tomorrow then?" Bakugo's voice was low, teasing.

"Of course." You responded softly, shutting the door as he pushed his weight off it and began walking away.

Kaminari quickly caught up to him, his arm coming to rest over Bakugo's shoulders, his body bumping into his. "Yo, the fuck was that?" He asked, voice low as he stared at Bakugo.

Bakugo grunted in response. "What? Fuck are you talking about?"

Sero scoffed as he matched their steps. "You were all over her. I could see your dick twitching."

"Why you looking, duct tape?"

But Sero only laughed at him.

"If you're interested go for it," the boy shrugged. "She's hot."

"Shut the fuck up." Bakugo spat, "You're gonna wake everyone."

"He's just mad he didn't get to hit." Kaminari snickered over to Sero.

Bakugo watched you in passing the next day. You were even prettier in the daylight, with your hair done, and dressed in casual clothes, smile wide as you conversed with you classmates.

Sero had managed to get the weed, 35 grams early in the morning, and Bakugo had fought the boys on who would be the one to give it to you. Now, as he trained with his classmates, perfecting their quirks and working on their physiques, he couldn't help catching sight of you all the time.

While your class had to do a 5k run as a mandatory physical exercise, before heading in to have a 2 hour class, consisting mainly of assessments and scenarios, Bakugo watched you as best as he could without getting caught.

"You're distracted." Sero snickered as he walked past Bakugo, shoving his elbow into Bakugo's side. "Looking at-"

"One more word and I'll incinerate you." Bakugo snarled, pushing Sero over the back of the couch.

"Bakugo?"

He turned his head around at the feminine voice, looking down at Uraraka gazing up at him. "What is it?"

"He's right though, you have been looking distracted."

He huffed. "I'm fine."

Sero stood up, rubbing at his head, and gave them a look, then walked away.

"You know if there's anything on your mind," she began, voice soft, palm moving up on his arm. "You can tell me."

Bakugo glanced up, just in time to see you walking into the kitchen with two others from your class by your side; the busty blonde from the night before and a boy he vaguely recognised. You walked to the counter, reaching up and grabbing a box of cereal from the overhead cupboards. When you got it and dropped it back on the counter, your eyes met his, then you looked at Uraraka's palm on his arm.

"I'm fine, really." He looked down at the brunette. "I'm going to my room." He shrugged her arm off him and stood up, making his way to the stairs.

"This should be 10 grams, right?" Bakugo mumbled, as he looked at the weed, laying atop some useless piece of paper he planned to use as wrapping.

Kirishima looked over his shoulder, rulers and pencils scattered on the desk beside the weed; Bakugo's attempt at 'measuring'. The redhead shrugged. "I think so. Looks like 10 grams to me."

Bakugo huffed and quickly began wrapping the paper over the weed. "Not like she'll weigh it or anything. This is about 10 grams." He mumbled as he took out a zip lock bag from a pile at the corner of his desk, opened it up and stuffed the paper-wrapped weed inside.

He stood from his desk.

"We're smoking some today, so don't waste too much time, yeah?" Kirishima said to him as Bakugi began approaching the door. "Or we'll do it without you."

"Just go ahead without me." Bakugo said.

Sero chuckled to himself. "You wanna fuck her or drop off weed?"

The blonde boy glared. "You wanna fuck her?" He retorted. "You've had a lot to say about my thoughts on her since yesterday."

Sero only raised his hands in mock surrender, leaning back on the headboard of his desk. "Just saying, bro. And what if I do?" He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. "She is hot."

"Whatever. I don't fucking care," Bakugo scoffed rather harshly as he pulled open the door, slowly. It was late, everyone was meant to be sleeping, though the two teachers that chaperoned the outing didn't seem to care all that much if students heeded to the bedtime.

He crept slowly up the stairs at the end of the hallway, eyes looking round the walls, feet soft and silent, the bag of weed tightly in the pocket of his hoodie. Though Aizawa and the management course teacher didn't seem all that strict, or interested in what the students got into during their free time, he didn't want to take risks.

He made it to your door easy enough, knocked softly, once, then two more times after that. His stomach tightened as the door was pulled open, the loosened, relief coursing through him at the sight of you again.

You were dressed in a pale tank top this time, and silk sleeping shorts, much shorter than the one you'd worn the night before. Bakugo thought your thighs looked amazing.

"You got the weed?" You asked him. Your voice was steadier, a bit deeper, and your eyes didn't waver the way they'd done before.

He nodded slowly, inching it out of the pocket of his hoodie. You caught sight of it and pulled your door open just a bit wider, inviting him in.

Bakugo walked into the room you were occupying, not much different from his, his eyes scanning it as you shut the door and opened your palm to him, beckoning for the weed.

"Where are your roommates?" He asked as he handed it to you.

"Snuck out. One of our classmates has a villa nearby. He's hosting a party." You mumbled, setting the bag of weed on the dresser near the door and pulling open one of the drawers.

"You didn't go with them?" He was happy you didn't, happy that your friends had left and you'd remained, here, alone with him.

"I wasn't interested. Not in good terms with the host."

Some silence for a while.

"The fuck? You're weighing it?" Bakugo's eyes widened in shock as he quickly made his way over to your side, watching as you brought out a little scale from one of the drawers, dropping the zip lock bag unto it. "Why do you even have a scale?"

"Of course I'll measure it," you smirked, hands on your hips as you watched the scale. "And I have one cause I can."

You and Bakugo leaned closer to take a good look at the calibrations at the base of the scale. You squinted slightly, lips turned downwards as you counted the thin lines, matched them with the numbers above them.

"That's like 11.5." Bakugo frowned as he looked at it. "You gotta gimme one and a half grams." He stood back up and smirked at you.

You chuckled softly, opening up the zip lock and pulling out the wrap of weed. "Lemme roll it and we'll smoke some here, huh?" You offered.

"That's extra that came out of my stash." He argued, knowing full well he wanted to share a blunt with you.

You grinned, opening up your drawer again and pulling out some rolling paper. "That you're gonna smoke. With me."

"He sounds funny."

"He's a fucking dipshit."

You laughed, passing taking the blunt from Bakugo's fingers and bringing it to your lips. He watched you, having just finished narrating to you one of Sero's stupid, stupid ideas. Bakugo watched as you brought the blunt to your mouth, wrapping your lips around it, where his own lips just were, and then inhaling.

You'd convinced him to smoke the blunt with you, pulling him to sit on your bed, the one nearest to the wall, and expertly rolling a blunt with your pretty, dainty fingers.

He'd watched them, noticed your nails, pretty, well manicured.

Now he looked up at you with his lips slightly parted, pupils blown wide and head feeling light, as you blew smoke from your lungs. You were sat up, leaning back on your hand behind you, palm on the bed, legs crisscrossed on your sheets.

He sat at the edge of your bed, legs planted on the ground as his hands ran through his blonde hair.

You giggled softly, holding the blunt to him now. "Here." Your voice came out breathy and soft.

He kept his eyes on your own as he leaned into the blunt, wrapping his lips around the edge, where your own just was, and inhaling.

"This is an indirect kiss, you know." You whispered.

He kept looking at you as he pulled away, keeping still for a moment, holding in the smoke.

"Blow it out, will ya?" You said to him, but you were leaning into his face now, weren't you?

He leaned closer, hand reaching up to cup your jaw, his lips meeting yours halfway, eyes closing. You opened your mouth against his as he blew the smoke into it.

Then you were both pulling away and you were blowing out the smoke.

"I liked that." You said softly with a smile, head tilted cutely to the side, and you were biting your lower lip.

"The weed or the kiss?" He chuckled softly, his voice so raspy and deep.

"Both."

And then he was kissing you again, eyes fluttering shut as you grabbed your waist, pulling you so you sat sideways on his lap. His tongue licked at your lips, pushing into your mouth as his hands slipped under your tank and caressed the bare skin of your stomach.

You moaned softly into his mouth as your hands came up to brush through his hair.

"Bakugo," You muttered, pulling way and moving positions.

You were straddling his lap now, your dainty, well manicured fingers gripping on to the hem of his hoodie. "This the weed, right?"

He chuckled, his palms sliding along your hips, tips of his long fingers grazing your ass. "I wanted to fuck you when I saw you yesterday, and I wasn't high then."

You licked at your bottom lip, arms wrapping around his neck. "Really? You wanna fuck?" You whispered against his cheek.

"Fuck yeah. I want you."

And then you were kissing again, slow, with so much tongue and spit, and his hands were everywhere, ravishing you. He was palming at your breasts over your tanktop, groaning and moaning, then gripping at your hips, pushing your core against his boner.

You sighed, buring your face in the crook of his neck as his fingers slipped underneath the bottom of your shorts, feeling at the bare skin of your ass, squeezing and groping at the plump flesh.

[toxicanonymity]

leopard print.  

4.5k, joel x f!reader; special guest in tags

SUMMARY: Depraved, overdue one shot for this blurb. Joel mistakes you for a sex worker, offers you a ride, Fs you, shares you and is mildly possessive about it.

WARNINGS: I8+ strangers, drugs, talk of sex work, unsafe public P in V, dubcon (drugs/alc, not noticeably intoxicated), cockwarming, degradation, pantygagging, creampies, car stuff, orgasm delay m, vaginal plugging, voyeurism, sharing. Unedited. 

A/N: Night walks vibes, but different too. You'll see. New fantasy for myself 😫

"And if I was workin'?" You ask.  He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt. . . "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest. . . He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands, tucking it into his waistband.

You pull into the gas station on the back of your friend's motorcycle. "When I fuel up, I'm outta here," he warns you.  Oh well. If you have to walk back to your friend's condo, it's only two blocks.  He's grumpy – You and your girlfriends have been a hot mess at the pool all day playing floating beer pong and licking alcoholic whipped cream off each other.  He didn't wanna take you with him in the first place. No helmet, no reasonable shoes, not even a shirt.

You swing your leg off the motorcycle and as you step down onto the ground with your red wedges, you adjust your cheap, stretchy leopard print miniskirt. It matches, or clashes, with your leopard print bikini. You leave your sunglasses on as you enter the gas station with a chime. You fish a damp $20 out of your bikini top and survey the snacks. 

You feel someone lurking nearby, but ignore it until you hear a deep, smooth voice.  "Nice rosettes."

"s’cuse me?" 

You turn only slightly toward the man. Maybe homeless.  Good looking like a washed up rockstar. He gestures toward your bikini top. "That's a nice set'a rosettes." You look down at your tits spilling out of your push-up bikini top, then you look back at his face. Handsome man, really. Salt and pepper beard. Full head of dark hair with a little gray. Sunkissed skin. His eyes are kind and glassy. His nose twitches. "Oh, that's what leopards call their spots. Rosettes."  

You laugh uncomfortably. 

“Yeah, the ones on your top, those are pretty good.” His eyes drift down your body. “Skirt doesn’t really have’em right. Still nice though.” 

"Thanks." You politely nod and return to looking at the snacks, ignoring him in the corner of your eye. 

He doesn’t leave. He only gets closer.  He looks you up and down and steps into your personal space. He lowers his voice.  "You, uh, workin'?"

No, you don't work there. Do you look like you work at the gas station? Your stomach turns as you realize what he means, and your face goes cold. You stare at him, and your eyes drift to a hole in his shirt right below the collar. "Am I WHAT?" You ask incredulously, but trying to be quiet. Your whole body feels hot at the implication. You're humiliated, but for some reason it makes you warm between the thighs, too. 

His eyes go wide, and he puts his hands up in surrender. "Sorry," he mumbles, then adds, "A man can dream,” as he backs away. 

Your heart races and flutters and you scold yourself for being flattered.  You end up in line behind the guy. And the line takes forever, giving you plenty of time to fume and also wonder about him. It's nothing against sex work – Work is work. But you'd like to think you wouldn't be picking up a rough looking guy in a gas station.  Your friend's motorcycle revs outside. You look out the window and he's there by the curb waiting for you. You could drop the snacks on the closest rack and get the heck out.  But for some reason, you stay in line, and not because you’re that hungry. 

Someone needs to scoot behind you and you're forced to step into the sleazy man's personal space. He smells far better than you would have imagined. Woodsy and fresh. Somehow that makes all the difference, like he's not a filthy vagrant after all. He just had the aesthetic. Which is kinda hot.  Your friend on the motorcycle shakes his head, revs his engine again, then drives away.

"Asshole," you mutter.  

The man in front of you (your aspiring john) glances back and again mutters, "sorry." He scratches the back of his neck and exposes a chain under his ratty t-shirt. He really does have a nice head of hair, and now you see there’s a joint behind his ear, too.  Maybe he’s just a hippy. 

"Not you," you mumble. Well, not only him. Both of them. 

He turns to face you. "I know. Saw ya roll in." Great, so he thought that was your pimp. "Want a ride?" 

"Nah, I’m close," you mutter without looking right at him, then mumble, “thanks.” 

He wets his lips and stares at your chest for a moment before adding, "ya sure?" And now that you know this man smells good, wears a chain, and has a ride, you're throbbing. You cross your arms and bite your lip looking at his handsome nose while his kind eyes search yours in anticipation. 

"Okay," you whisper.

"Hell yeah," he whispers back with half a smile, getting a little closer, like the two of you are plotting something. 

"But I'm not workin'," you remind him.

"Heard ya the first time, gorgeous." He winks at you.

He tries to buy your food for you. When you don't let him, he nods with a smirk. He crosses his big arms, plastic bag that reads “thank you” hanging from one of them, and waits for you. Then he holds the door open on your way out. 

He checks you out as you pass through the door frame. You take your sunglasses off and put them in the bag with your snacks. 

"Name's Joel."  When you don't tell him yours, there’s a new smirk in his voice when he says, "don't gotta tell me your real name, if ya got a street name or somethin'. . ." 

"Jerk." You punch his arm and mostly suppress a laugh. 

He smiles and brings a massive hand to his bicep to pretend like it hurts, and for the first time it hits you how muscular he is.

"Truck's around back." He nods toward the back of the store. He walks slightly behind you. You feel his eyes boring a hole in your ass. Then you feel the warmth of his massive palm on the small of your back and he gets closer to you as he curves his hand around your side. "Too damn hot, baby. Had me thinkin' with my dick is all." Your face heats up and you glance at him. “I’ll carry that for ya.” He takes your bag. 

He's parked around a corner out of view. Between some bushes and a closed library for some reason. His truck is nice, and it's big. Tinted windows. The back window of the cab says Miller Brothers.  It's sunset, so you're grateful for the ride, lest any other low lifes make the same mistake on your walk back. When y'all get to his truck, he lets his hand slide down your hip. He opens the driver’s seat and puts the bags inside. Then he leans against his truck and adjusts himself. He's wearing pinstripe lounge pants.  "Can't really blame me, can ya?" He raises his eyebrows. He scans you top to bottom again.  "God damn, baby." 

You laugh and look down shyly, unsure whether to thank him. His eyes don't leave your body at all.  "To be fair, I thought you were homeless," you admit. 

He exhales a laugh and shrugs.  "Where ya headed?"

"Back to my friend’s pool."

"Hungry?"

"Nah."

"Smoke?" So that’s why you’re still outside the truck. You shouldn't, but you hesitate curiously.

You lean against the bed of his truck with your elbow resting on its edge, facing him.

"Fuck you're sexy," he mutters to himself. "Helluva rack but I'm an ass man, c'mere."

He turns toward you so he's leaning with his left side on the driver's side of the truck. He puts his right hand on your hip, rotating you so you're facing the truck. "Mmmmm." He puts his hand on the small of your back again, then slides it down–slowly, experimentally, cautiously enough for you to stop him. You don't. You're throbbing.  He grabs your ass–his palm is huge. You glance at him and watch his eyes study the curve of your body. Deep down in your body, you know you're gonna fuck him. You both know it. With his left hand he retrieves the joint from behind his ear and puts it in his mouth unlit. 

He sucks in a breath around the joint and lifts the flesh of your closest ass cheek. When he lets it drop, a growl escapes his chest. 

He fishes a lighter out of his soft pants pocket and lights up. and as he inhales, once again he can't keep his eyes off your body.  He takes the joint out of his mouth and turns your face toward his. You rotate toward him and he gets close, your bodies almost touching. He looks to your eyes for permission and begins to slowly exhale downward, so it's yours if you want it. You bring your mouth closer to his and he angles the smoke more toward your mouth as you suck it up. The moment seems to last forever and your lower belly is on fire. 

The sunset washes everything in a pink hue. When his lungs are empty, he murmurs "good girl" and rests his hand on your hip, lightly running his palm over your stretchy little miniskirt, feeling the bump toward the top hem where your bikini tie is. He peels the top of your stretchy skirt down to expose the knot and pulls at the string. You let him untie it. The parking lot is empty and wet from an earlier rain. 

"Fuck you're hot," he mutters with the strings of your bikini hanging over the miniskirt on that side. He takes another puff and passes you the joint. You take only a small inhale. "C'mere," he murmurs and his hand on your waist nudges your side off the truck and pulls you closer to him. He unties that side of your bottoms the same way. 

"And if I was workin'?" You ask. 

He gives a low whistle. "Wouldn't know where to start," he murmurs. "But I can tell ya how it'd end." He looks at your skirt.

You ask, "How's that?"

He doesn't take his eyes off your skirt. "She'd be wrecked n' beggin' for more, baby." Your fingers absentmindedly graze your chest, feeling where your tits spill over the cups. "Careful sugar," he chuckles. "Start me up, I won't ever stop." He sticks the joint in his mouth and shamelessly adjusts himself with both hands so his cock is upright and held in his waistband. He offers the joint again and you decline. He pinches it out and puts it back behind his ear.  "Damn," he mutters, still checking you out. He rubs his hand over his cock through his soft pants. "But ya *ain’t* workin'. . . so ya got nothin' to worry 'bout," he adds with a twinkle in his eye. "''Less ya want it . . ." God, you do. You want it. 

"Wrecked, huh?" You challenge him. 

He sighs and his big hand on your hot skin rotates you back toward the truck.  You hang your elbows over the side of the truck bed. He slinks behind you, then lets the heft of his cock against your ass crack. You gasp at how nice and hard it is. It moves against you and he sucks in a breath through his teeth then lets out a, "Mmm" as he exhales. He rolls his hips against you and uses both hands on your hips to pull your ass back into him so you're off the truck.

He holds you with one arm around your waist and his other hand slides between your legs from the front, up your skirt. "Bad girl, ain't ya?" His hand skims up your inner thigh to the crotch of your swimsuit, hanging loosely now that it's untied on both sides. "Yeah, ya are,” he answers for you. He slides two thick fingers through your folds and you sigh, tilting your head back.  "Spread your legs for a stranger?." His voice is deep and gruff and makes you throb.  “S’okay, not just any stranger.” His other hand grabs a tit while he runs his fingers through your dripping folds, then begins to circle your clit with his drenched digits. "Oh she's beggin' for it, baby," he murmurs. 

He lets your weight against the truck again so his forearm is between you and the metal with his hand still between your legs. His cock presses against your ass at a slow rhythm, making your insides swell with need for him as he fingers your clit. You squirm and your hips rock into his hand. You whimper and he brings his mouth to your ear. "Five hundred," he whispers. 

You gasp and he adds, "Not you. . .I'm workin' now, baby" as he speeds up on your clit. "I'm a penthouse boy, but that's your back alley discount." 

"Fuck you," you laugh.

"First one's free if i cum inside," he murmurs into your neck. Then he grabs the crotch of your swimsuit and yanks it down, pulling it off entirely. He pins you to the truck with his cock against your ass. He shoves the swimsuit in your mouth and ties the strings behind your head. You taste the chlorine and your own arousal. You turn your head to look behind you and he reassures you no one can see. 

His hand returns between your legs and he slips one, then two thick, wet fingers into you. Your cunt squelches obscenely around his digits. "Hell yeah, hear her beggin' for me?". He frees his cock from his pants and keeps fingering you.  Then he slides his fingers out and your walls twitch at the loss. He wedges his cock under your skirt and it’s so big you have to spread your legs more. He runs the head through your folds and you’re gushing. As the head massages your clit, you moan into the swimsuit in your mouth. "Want the first one free, don't ya?" He taunts into your neck, dragging his lips along the delicate skin. "Want me to fill up this filthy hole?" You nod, desperate to feel him inside you. "First with this cock, then all the cum ya can hold," he murmurs and you nod. You tilt your hips and spread your legs. "Good," he breathes. "Good girl." He notches himself with the curve of his tip just inside. "Ready to swallow me whole, hot damn." 

You push back on him and he says, "shit," and pushes into you.  He slides right into you, spreading your cunt wide open with a groan into your neck. It's a delicious stretch and he fills you to the brim, bottoming out on the first go.  "God damn, sugar." He retreats and slides his thick cock into you again, sheathing it entirely with your dripping cunt. You weren't even sure you could take this cock but it's perfect. "Fuck, you feel good," he pants and twitches inside you. If he comes early you're going to laugh but you pray he won't. He begins to roll his hips at a steady rhythm, and you moan into the swimsuit. He breathes heavily against your neck and bites and sucks you. You adjust your hips and push back on him to his rhythm. 

"Take it like a pro," he pants, "an' you're tight, too. Damn." His right hand works your clit.  His left hand comes to your throat, thumb on the left side of it, fingers on the right.  Choke me, you think. Do it. But he doesn't. He licks and kisses at the left side of your throat, by his thumb. Then his fingers on the right of your neck tense for leverage and he plants his teeth on the left side of your neck. He sucks hard and moans into you as he sucks more, like he's thirsty for blood. Your neck aches under the grip of his mouth. He breathes through his nose, and when he finally breaks with a gasp, he fucks you harder, grunting and sighing. 

You moan and he pulls your top down under your tits. A breeze and the rustling of branches nearby reminds you of the danger and you shiver. Your nipples harden under his forearm and palm and your cunt spasms. He groans behind your ear and you whimper and arch your back. 

"Gonna come on this cock?" 

You can only whimper again in response. 

"Go 'head, baby," he breathes and reaches for your clit again, groping a breast with his other hand.

You bite down on the swimsuit and your body jerks into his as you come undone. "Oh yeah," he sighs. "Fuck yeah, ohhh baby." He thrusts into you harder and you moan as your cunt chokes his cock, and with another powerful thrust he bottoms out and begins to erupt with a long sigh, pulsing warmly inside you. Then he reaches for your face and pulls down the swimsuit gag. As you gasp for air, he turns your head toward him. He kisses you deeply with his cock still rutting deep and slow inside you, pulsing the last of his seed into your depths. He moans into your mouth. And when your lips disconnect, he looks at you softly. Your eyes lock for a few seconds, more intimately than you’d expect. Then you feel awkward, and look at the back of his truck–Miller Brothers.  You say the first thing that comes to mind. "Joel Miller, huh?" You cringe at yourself. 

He raises his eyebrows. "What, like the sound'a Miller?" 

Your face goes hot and you make a joke to change the subject. "Your brother’a penthouse boy too?" 

Joel's cock slides out of you and you feel empty. He starts to fix your swimsuit top and says, "Somethin' like that. . .I'll introduce ya," as he finishes straightening it. What are you, dating now?

You start to protest, "Oh, I dunno," then pivot to something more agreeable but noncommittal. “Sure, maybe sometime.” 

—---

Joel walks you to the passenger side. What a gentleman.  He opens the door for you.  The seat isn't empty. There's a handsome man with longer, curly hair, a sexy smile, and his hands in his lap.  

"Name’s Tommy," Joel says behind you. "My lil bro." 

When Tommy lifts a hand to give you a little salute, you see his cock is out of his pj pants.   "Howdy, sweetheart." He's not even shy about it. He raises his eyebrows and holds it at attention for you,  thick and hard.  Butterflies swarm in your stomach and you can't take your eyes off it. "Kept the seat warm for ya," Tommy beams.

"Go on, sugar," Joel nods to Tommy's lap. "’fore my cum leaks out everywhere."

Your heart races and your clit throbs. It feels like you're in a dream. This is so lewd and vile. But you just got pounded in a parking lot, and who's gonna know, and who cares. You wanna sit on that cock. 

You look at Joel and he shrugs. "Don't gotta, but it's there." He leans in and gives you a kis, then murmurs "An’ she won't be leakin’ all over." He chuckles, then kisses you again. Damn, he’s a good kisser. When his head pulls back, you give him a devious, inquisitive look. and he says, "that's my girl." He helps you up and you scrunch up your skirt more. "She's hot as fuck, man," he tells his brother. 

You're facing the windshield, and it's like Tommy’s just part of the seat. It's a large truck so there's enough clearance over your head.  Tommy's large hands come to your thighs. 

"I got her," Joel says and Tommy moves his right hand to hold his cock for you. You tilt your hips and Tommy notches himself at your hole, which is still pulsing with an occasional aftershock. Before too much of Joel's cum can trickle down Tommy's cock, they both pull you down on him and you're stuffed full once again. 

"Good girl," Tommy whispers. Joel looks at you lustily and reaches his hand between your legs. He gives your clit a little rub, and you spasm on Tommy’s cock with an aftershock from Joel. 

"Goddamn," Tommy mutters. 

"Yeah," Joel whispers, then gives you another kiss.  He shoots Tommy a serious look.  "Don't fuckin' come inside her."

"I know, I know." Tommy hugs you back into his broad chest. "I’ain’t nothin' but a seat, honey. A seat and a plug." The crudeness makes you twitch.

Joel shuts the passenger door and goes back around to the driver's side. Tommy murmurs softly behind your ear. "Ya feel nice, though."

Joel buckles his seatbelt and starts the engine.  Tommy rests his hands casually on your hips and his thick cock twitches inside you. He clears his throat.

"Tellin' ya, man," Joel warns. 

"Nothin' to worry 'bout, brother,"  Tommy reassures him, playing it cool. "You used her up good." 

Joel backs up the truck and asks, "Where to?" 

You tell him the building. It's already in view in the distance as you approach the street to pull out from the parking lot. "There," you point to it. Joel opens his Takis and puts a few in his mouth. Your walls are hugging Tommy's cock as Joel eats his snack and drives. You bounce on Tommy's thick cock as Joel pulls onto the main street, immediately getting stuck at a red light.  You moan, and Tommy stifles a grunt then whispers "shhhh,"  into your hair.  It's not a long way. But you're stuck in traffic.  

"What do you listen to?" Joel asks and turns on the radio. It's on the local classic rock station.

"That works," you mumble, laid back against Tommy's barrel chest with your eyes half closed. While Joel is focused on the road, Tommy wedges his hand under one of the push-up cups of your bikini. 

Tommy sighs, then whispers into your right ear where Joel can’t see. "Sexy little thing ain't ya." His cock twitches. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying not to moan. He lightly pinches your nipple then fixes your suit again. God his cock feels good. You're almost to your friends condo, but you don't want it to be over. 

"Can you, uh–can you take me to my place instead?" You ask

Joel looks at you and cocks an eyebrow. "Not back to the pool?" You shake your head sleepily. "Tuckered out, huh?” he chuckles.  “That's okay baby. Where ya live?" 

You tell him the apartment complex. It's a couple miles further. "Good girl," Tommy whispers, pleased to have you on his cock a little longer. As Joel drives, you feel Tommy subtly lifting his hips. The bumps in the road have you bouncing on him too. And with the slow traffic, wearing nothing but a bikini top and a miniskirt,  you catch a few stares, even through the dark tinted windows. It turns you on more. It turns Joel on, too. He's hard again and rubbing himself over his pj's which are wrecked with drying drops of his cum, your juices, and a darker new spot of precum.  Tommy’s cock is so thick, and it throbs, and occasionally twitches, and you can so freshly conjure the feeling of Joel pounding you too, whispering filth into your ear.  

Your body’s building toward another climax, but you’re trying not to let it. Your cunt spasms, and Tommy's chest expands under your back with a deep inhale. "Shhh, it's okay," he murmurs. You’re almost there. 

"Joel, i–" you reach over for him. He looks at your face and does a double take. "Shit," he peels into the closest corner. "It's okay, hold on for me sugar."

Tommy moans, trying so hard not to cum.  "You better fuckin not,” Joel growls at Tommy.  Joel takes off his seat belt as he parks and urgently takes his cock out. "C'mere baby," Joel reaches for you. Tommy groans and you feel a little pulse as he hoists you off his cock. Your cunt twitches, trying to hang onto Tommy, not wanting to let him go.  Tommy erupts as his cock slides out of you and his cum paints your folds.  He moans through it, cock in his hand, cum gurgling onto his fist, head tilted back, eyes closed. 

Meanwhile Joel pulls you toward him and your cunt is beginning to flutter ever so slightly around nothing, but you’re staving off a full climax.  You kneel on the empty seat between them and Joel urgently pulls you into straddling him. His cheeks are flushed and his face is serious. "yeah, I got ya baby." He wets his lips, then his mouth hangs open as his tip finds your hole and he pulls you down on his dick, even thicker than you remember. "Hell yeah," he whispers and you're packed full of cock again. "Uungghh yeah," Joel lifts his hips into you and you cum on his cock right away. 

"Oh fuck," you gasp, "Joel–ugghgh," you moan unrestrained and tilt your head back. He catches it in his hand and brings your face to his. You clench around his cock and he fucks up into you slowly. Your lips break with moans from each of you as you cum on his cock and he moves you. He hugs you into him and latches onto the unmarked side of your neck. Then your clit is grinding into him as he keeps moving you on him while your climax wanes. 

"So damn hot, baby. Really take it like a pro." His words make you spasm again, and Joel groans. He rocks you on his cock, biting his lip. You can tell from how quiet he is, he’s trying not to cum so fast. But he can’t help it and after a minute, he asks,  "Ready for another load?" You nod, desperate to feel him pulse inside you.  "Think ya can handle it?"

You nod and roll your hips into him. You could come again, too. 

"Hell yeah, that's my bad girl–oh, fuck, fuck–ohhh.” He grunts from the back of his throat as his cock pulses enormously inside you, adding to his first load. As his moan wanes, his lips latch onto yours again. Your lips move together, and you begin to clench around his cock again, whimpering into his mouth with the pleasure. It seems to last forever. When your lips break, he reads your eye and mutters, "fuck, you're hot.”

He breathes heavily while his pulses continue but echo smaller and smaller, as with your aftershocks on him. He sits back against the seat for a moment catching his breath. "You're somethin' else," he whispers, then looks around outside. "What unit are you?" 

You tell him your apartment number and point out the building. You stay impaled on his cock as he drives to that building. He nuzzles his nose and mouth into your neck. He parks the car, then spends another moment with you.  He nibbles your neck, presses sweet kisses into your jaw, fixes your hair, then whispers, "Nice to meet ya, sugar." 

Tommy gets out of the truck and walks around to the driver’s side, and opens Joel’s door. Joel kisses you goodbye, deeply, with tongue, and helps hoist you off his cock. Tommy helps you down out of the truck while Joel tucks his cock away.  Tommy gives you a hug and kisses you on the cheek.  Then they drive away and leave you wrecked and wanting more. 

---------

thank you so much for reading and engaging! I really love and appreciate y'all.

For more Joel and Tommy, check out stuffing.

if you liked this joel... you'd like the night walks AU, If you like the sharing with a hint of dominance/possessiveness, I think walkintotheriveranddisappear has a gang bang where only Joel can cum inside. I have Tommy's hard day (established free use relationship with Joel)

toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs.

EDIT - alright I've gotten several messages this week saying notifs aren't working. I think they might be delayed for some people but idk what to do. I guess I'm temporarily bringing this back but idk if it's even the most recent list 🤡 please subscribe to notifs on toxicfics if you haven't already. If you haven't been getting notifs, you can see the most recent fics you missed on toxicfics.

All Joel: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz

@within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading @daddy-dins-girl

[disgracexxx]

https://www.tumblr.com/tired-biscuit/747042048714178561/men-who-cant-help-but-slut-themselves-out-a

at first i thought of your leo with this post but then at the mention of hair my thoughts immediately switched to mikey >_<

-mycelium

一∑ Look At Me・゜・。

author’s notes: crazily enough i’ve seen that post before hehehe since you mentioned both leo & mikey i tot to myself what the heck let’s do them all! <3333 headcanon style

warnings: suggestive themes sooo be warned! i wouldn’t say nsfw but like maybe 18+ to be on the safe side?! also a bit yandere if you squint andddd unedited it’s 2:30 I’ll reread later ;3

—————————————————————————

Raph knows he’s big. And part of him resents it. But it does have its own advantages. Eyes gravitate to him naturally for his size. Your eyes in particular are the ones he’s after. So if he knows you’re coming down to the lair later, he may get a workout in just before. To have that pump in full effect for your arrival. Even better if you decide to say hey to him while he’s working out. His muscles straining to do another bench press under your watch. Grunting out with the effort as he racks it. Sitting up to give you a breathy smile, snaggle-tooth catching on his lip.

He’s a listener for sure. Big eyes going round and soft as you call out his name. Just give him a chance, an in, to know he has a chance and he’ll start getting more obvious in his advances. Always coming up with an excuse for some contact. For you to hold onto him. His arm is out for you to take if you ever need it.

And if he feels threatened, that your attention is being soaked up by someone else. He may use his size to his advantage. Taking up the space in front of you, unable to even peer over him as he leans down, with a slight frown “Who’re you lookin’ for? Raph’s right here! I’ll help with whatever you need,”

Leo is painfully obvious when he wants attention. He is a whore for attention. He’s the face-man for a reason. When you enter the room he is the first to call out to you, already up and in your space. Depending on how close the two of you are it can be an arm slung around your shoulders, or a full on sweep-you-off-your-feet hug! He’s a tease so expect his hands to be on you regardless. Poking or tickling whenever he feels your attention fading elsewhere.

His jokes are aimed solely for you to laugh at. If he doesn’t get even a chuckle he may start pouting. If you don’t even give him an exasperated smile he may go down on his knees. Because he is that dramatic. If he’s wearing any clothes at all, they will either be so tight you can see every line of his form, or so loose you can see the skin regardless. Think suits or tank tops. Like Raph he’s not afraid to flex in front of you. Your eyes on him when he is purposefully showing off his body just goads that ego of his. You must be thinking he’s attractive right?

The type to grab your chin if he catches you ogling someone else. Tipping it up to meet his eyes as he tuts disapprovingly. “Hermosa! What else is there to look at when you have me right here? Hmmm?”

Donnie is more likely to show off his tech, achievements, and brain before he even thinks of his body. That’s what he is best at after all. He wants to show you all his accomplishments, his technological prowess. Please, please break something. He will be over at your place in a jiffy. Those hands and fingers showing off his precision and dexterity. They can be used for other things too!

The fashion sense he has is more like an add-on. Something he doesn’t even think twice about. Well maybe he put some thought into how good he would look in street wear. Dark purple and black are the color combos of his choice. But the grey sweatpants that he just throws on right before he goes to greet you? He hadn’t thought about how they hang on his hips. Nope.

Snarky comebacks are in his nature. He doesn’t do well with jealousy. “Scoff. Are your eyes seriously wandering over to that neanderthal? Should I go start the introductions?” And you better deny. Or come up with some plausible excuse so he doesn’t overthink the rest of the day away!

Mikey is spoiled with attention. He gets overloaded by all his big brothers after all. So if he is actively seeking out your attention, and isn’t getting the reception he’s used to? He’ll be a bit clingy. Like Leo, he will call out to you as soon as he sees you. No matter where or what you’re doing! Could be in a big crowd or a silent library. A big wave and a holler of your name will be the first thing he does. Then expect for him to sweep you off your feet into a crushing hug that goes on for a good couple seconds, and could last longer depending on your reaction.

He’ll cook you anything you want. He basks under your praise and compliments. If you moan, oh lord, he may not be able to stop staring at you. Eyes wide, mouth slightly agape, before he realizes himself and pushes the plate closer to you. Wanting to get that reaction from you again.

He has no problem spamming you in person and through the phone. He’ll text multiple messages without a second thought of how desperate he may seem. He’ll call if you don’t respond back in a reasonable amount of time. The logic behind that is everyone has their phone on them, at all times, just shoot him a thumbs up and he’ll feel reassured!

“Y/n what’s this?! Do you like that kind of person? I caught you staring don’t denyyyy! I thought you liked meeee! You can only like me, okay?”

[chilling-seavey]

I feel like TWIG needs some angst so imagine George finding out that you and your little ones got into a car accident

You are so right, anon 💕 Sorry it took me a bit to get to this one but I had to make sure I was in the writing mindset for angst!!

Warnings: Minor descriptions of car crash, injuries, and shock

It wasn’t quite the same as the real thing; stuffed in a replica of the recent Mercedes chassis facing a large arched screen displaying the virtual circuit of Baku. After almost a decade in the sport, George could have driven those streets with his eyes closed but he knew there was no place for cockiness behind the wheel. Every turn and choice must be meticulously calculated and perfected to pull every second out of the care safely. 

He was just starting another flying lap in the sim when the tone of the speaker tore him from his focus. One of the technicians spoke to him through the windowed wall of the simulator booth,  “George, your phone keeps ringing out here. It’s your wife. Why don’t you take five?”

A spark of concern flickered in his chest, wondering why you were calling multiple times when you rarely so much as messaged him when he was at the factory. He climbed out of the simulator and stepped through the door into the adjacent room that held a few long desks stocked with computers housing impressive data sets and graphs. The employees that took up the seats kept their attention on studying the results of the session while George picked up his phone from where he had left it at the table at the back. 

He noticed three missed calls from you and before he could call you back, his screen filled with your name and contact image with another incoming call. The urgency had his stomach churning and he stepped out into the hallway for a moment of privacy as he answered it.

“Hey, my love, sorry, I was in the sim.” he spoke into the phone, trying not to sound too worried, “Is everything okay?” 

“Hey, yeah, we’re okay,” you answered. 

He could hear the tension in your voice, the slight waver to your words. Somewhere in the distance, there was chatter and the muffled sound of an announcement. 

“I just…” you tried to continue but your words seemed to halt. 

George sat down in a chair in one of the small lounges in the factory, “Love, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“Sorry,” you breathed, your exhale shaky, “I’m with the kids at the hospital. We, uh…there was…fuck.”

He could tell how shaken you were by the fact you were unable to even piece sentences together but the fact he was only being given bits of the story was sending him into a spiral. With a tight breath, he pressed urgently, “Are you okay? Are they okay?”

“Yeah, no, yeah, we’re fine.” you assured him quickly, “Some bruises but…we’re all fine. Just…got into a little car accident. Came here to be checked out just in case.”

George was filled with equal parts relief and dread. Relief that you were all okay but dread that there had been enough of an accident to have you think about going to the hospital to get checked out. He didn’t even have to think about it before he stood up from the bench and started back down the hallway towards his private room, replying, “Okay…okay, my love, I’m on my way, alright? I have your location, I’ll head to you right now. Stay put, okay?”

“Okay,” you echoed in an exhale lined with a moment of relief, “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“Oh my God, baby, do not be sorry. I’m just glad you’re okay. I just have to change and I’m coming right to you now.”

“Okay, I love you.”

The shock-stemmed flatness of your voice was chilling.

“I love you too,” George replied easily, his tone extra warm and gentle, “I’ll see you soon.”

He was sure he had never changed faster in his life, tugging off his sim-ready race suit in exchange for his street clothes before he had even alerted his team that he had to go. When he returned to the simulator room to say he was leaving and why, he didn’t even wait for a response before he was closing the door behind him and making a beeline for the stairs of the factory. 

The parking lot of the Brackley headquarters was packed but George’s reserved parking spot wasn’t too far from the front doors of the building. He checked your location on his brisk walk to his car, zooming in on the map to see what hospital you were at and, once he was sitting behind the wheel, he typed the location into the GPS in his car. 

It was ironically a sunny day in England that day, the roads dry and clear as he navigated through the countryside from Brackley to Cambridge. He silently cursed the hour-and-a-half drive as his impatience was settling on his shoulders but he didn’t let it deter him from focusing on the roads ahead. The piece of mind came with the awareness that you were okay.

Once he was parked outside the Addenbrooke Hospital on the southern point of the city of Cambridge, he was hurrying across the lot towards the entry doors, phone pressed to his ear as he called you. You directed him to where you were waiting and once he emerged through the double doors into the waiting room of the wing you were in, his heart was racing. 

You stood from your chair at the sight of him and he rushed to meet you, swallowing you up in a careful embrace. You clung onto him tightly, fingers clutching the back of his shirt and your eyes screwed shut as you buried your face in his neck. He could feel your heavy sigh of relief in his arms as if the tension and stress had been completely dissipated from your body with a simple hug from him. 

Across the waiting room, your two children were distracted by some toys in the corner, playing together, unbothered, as if it were just another day. Watching them for a moment over your shoulder, the only thing George could notice about them was the blue bandaid on your son’s temple.

You pulled away from his embrace a little, voice still a little shaky from the shock as you updated him on the well-being of your children, “She’s the best out of the three of us, basically completely unharmed. Little guy’s cut was from the impact…hitting just the right part of his carseat. I took the worst of it.”

George tore his attention away from the children to look back at you, finally getting a proper look at you up close. It was then that he noticed the bruising over your nose and down your right cheek and jaw, colouring your skin in purples and greens. His eyes trailed down your profile to where you held out your trembling hands, your right wrist wrapped in a bandage.

“Just a minor sprain,” you assured him before he could worry too much. You tried to make light of it with a soft, “The paramedic said it was likely from how hard I was holding onto the wheel when we were hit. She said it was like my ‘mama bear’ instincts took over, trying to keep control of the car the best I could.”

George pulled in a shaky breath and moved back in to hug you again if needing to feel you there, that you were really okay. Your arms smoothly wrapped around his shoulders as he pulled you close, both of you just holding onto each other for a moment. 

“What happened?” George finally asked. He felt as though he had been keeping that question on the tip of his tongue since you had first called him, wanting to know but also wanting to save himself from knowing the cold hard truth. 

You sniffled and pulled back just enough to look at him, although your eyes were downcast as if in shame, “Some idiot made a right turn at an intersection without looking. I braked and swerved just enough to not get entirely t-boned but he hit almost directly on the front driver's side. Hence,”

You held up your sprained wrist.

“Saved the kiddies though.” you mumbled. 

George gently set a hand on your face and pulled you in to press a kiss to your head as if he could pour all his love into that simple action. 

The power behind it had your eyes welling with tears and you whispered out a shaky, “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

George tenderly trailed the back of his finger over your uninjured cheek to swipe away a stray tear, “What on earth do you have to be sorry about right now?”

“We took your C63.” you whimpered, another heavy tear dripping down your cheek, “It’s…so fucked. So, so fucked. I know how much you love it…how much you protect it and I didn’t think—”

“Shhh,” George hushed you softly, gently rubbing your biceps comfortingly as he stared into your tear-filled eyes, “The last thing on my mind right now is the car. I hadn’t once thought about the car since you called me. You, the kids…that’s all I care about right now. That’s all I care about ever.”

“Okay,” you choked out through a sob, lifting your hands to hide your face as you burst into tears in the middle of the hospital waiting room. 

George’s arms encircled you and he pressed another kiss to your head, cradling you against his chest and surrounding you with his love and comfort. As much as he adored that car, he truly didn’t care about it in that moment as he held you in his arms. He had trusted you with it, knowing you were always a safe driver, but the one thing that he always knew was the scariest part of driving was that you can’t control what anyone else on the road does.

As he held you, he whispered words of reassurance to you, reminding you with a serious, “We can fix up a car…we can get a new car…but I can’t get a new you.”

His comfort had the damns breaking, causing you to let out your bottled up emotions into his neck with a sobbing, “I was so scared.” 

His heart nearly broke at your confession and he rubbed his hand over your back, comforting you in the only way he knew how and the only way he could offer, “I know, my love. I’m here. I got you.”

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[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Could you write a Shoto x reader Christmas smut? Love your fics btw, you’re a great writer!🫶

Ohhhh heck yesss! Here you go, dear reader! ❤️

All Wrapped Up with a Bow 🎄❤️ | Shoto Todoroki x Reader

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x AFAB Reader 💋

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance

Summary: Being a Pro Hero is hard...especially when you and your boyfriend Shoto Todoroki's busy schedules often keep you apart. When Shoto asks to spend Christmas Eve together just the two of you, you decide to spice things up with some lacy lingerie. Note: This is an unedited fic :)

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, spicy scenes, fingering, unprotected sex, light ass play, lemon, Smut, Dirty Talk, All characters are in their mid-twenties!

Shoto’s been working insane hours lately.

To be honest, you both have. Being heroes in your mid-twenties, it comes with the territory. You’re still new enough to the hero scene that you need to prove your worth by working extra hours, taking extra interviews and booking extra press events.

Extra. Extra. Extra.

If only you had “extra” time to spend with your beloved boyfriend Shoto Todoroki.

But unfortunately, your plate is too full and work/life balance is a distant dream. Maybe when you’re thirty. For now, it’s time to keep grinding and hope for the best.

Your relationship with Shoto is as strong as ever. You’re both steady, dependable people. You rarely quarrel. You both take the time to share updates on your schedules and workload. Your relationship is strong in every way except…you rarely get to see each other in person. And that means that the physical aspect of your relationship is nearly non-existent.

On the rare nights you both have off-duty, exhaustion seeps deep into your bones and prevents any romantic or “spontaneous” acts from commencing. Instead, the two of you order takeout and cuddle up with a movie until one of you nods off halfway through. Maybe you’ll exchange a quick shoulder rub, or use Shoto’s theragun on aching muscles before brushing your teeth and calling it a night. It’s not romantic or glamorous. But it works – having a supportive partner who understands the exact strain of your job is rare in this line of work. And that makes what you and Shoto have even more precious.

And so, you continue your non-routine routine. Go on missions, meet with the press. Text Shoto a cute photo of you volunteering at the local animal shelter in between patrols. Grab dinner and fall asleep at Shoto’s apartment once a week. Sign up for an extra night shift with your sidekicks. Get assigned a mission out of town and send Shoto a text apologizing for missing his birthday. Receive an encouraging call in reply extolling your many great attributes as a hero and as a partner. Refocus and get back to your hero work. Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

That is, until Christmas Eve.

The end of the year approaches so quickly, you feel like you’ve been hit with a time warp quirk sending you speeding forward in time. Looking back, it’s been a great year for your career. But your social and dating life have been massively neglected.

You wake up the morning of Christmas Eve to a text from Shoto. You’re in your own apartment near the agency, getting ready to commute into work. You pause in putting on your hero costume so you can read the wall of texts coming through on your screen.

Shoto: Hey Y/N. I miss you.

Shoto: I feel like I haven’t been able to see you much lately and it’s starting to really upset me.

Shoto: I told my agency I’m taking off tonight so I can spend time with you. I’m going to shut off my phone.

Shoto: Can you get the night off last minute?

Shoto: It’s been so long since I’ve touched you

Shoto: See what you can do?

You pause. It’s so rare that Shoto asks for physical affection. You call your team and  rearrange your schedule so you can take off the entire day. Your sidekicks are more than eager to fill in for you and get a few more patrol hours under their belts. You click your phone closed and breathe out slowly – it’s been so long since you took a little time to chill. The hero world can wait. Your relationship with Shoto cannot.

Y/N: I took the night off! Want to spend the night at my apartment?

Shoto: Yes. Love you.

You stand up and stretch – no need to wear your hero costume anymore today. You strip it off and hang it back in its special case with care before dawning leggings and an oversized sweater. You think quickly through how you want to optimize the day – there are quite a few errands you’ve been putting off. You still need to get Christmas presents for a few friends and family members that you’ll see on the New Years Eve. Plus you should probably run out for groceries so you can surprise Shoto with a yummy home cooked meal…

The mall it is!

You grab your coat, apartment keys and purse and head out to the local shopping center to check everything off your list. You dash to the local train with exuberance – it’s been so long since you’ve had an unexpected day off. What a treat! Maybe you should stop and get a mani pedi at the local salon…it’s been quite a while since you’ve glammed up a bit. You start scouring Pinterest for the perfect holiday nail color.

By the time the train pulls into the station, you have 5 options screenshot and saved. You speed walk from the station to the shopping complex, grateful that everything you need can be found in one place.

You start at the nail salon. The staff is excited to see you – everyone waves excitedly and cheer as you pick your color. You know that you’re their only regular Pro Hero client (they have a poster of you in your uniform framed on the back wall as a reminder), most other Pro Heros employ private glam squads to take care of all of their beautifuication needs. You, however, would rather be treated like a normal person when possible. Plus, you love all the ladies who work at the salon and treat you like a friend.

Your favorite nail tech Lisa beckons you to a reclining chair and starts to fuss over you. She’s tall and in her mid fifties, with beautiful long hair swept into a plait down he back. She’s the mother hen of the salon and is up to date on everyone’s tea. Within minutes she’s cleaned up your cuticles and layered on the first coat of nail varnish.

“You still dating that Todoroki boy?” She asks, always keen for gossip. You love that she refers to Shoto as “that Todoroki boy” as if he’s just a normal guy from the neighborhood and not one of Japan’s top heroes. You giggle and nod.

“I’m surprising him with dinner tonight. We both took the night of to spend together.”

“Ohhh, how romantic! He seems like such a fine young man for you. What are you going to wear!?” She layers on topcoat as she gushes.

“I didn’t even think about my outfit yet – I only just decided to take the day off! Any suggestions?” You hold up your freshly manicured hand and the paint glints ruby red in the light.

“Well…” Lisa gives you a mischievous look before calling over her shoulder to one of the younger girls. “Dina – grab that Cosmo magazine from the break room?”

Dina, a woman closer to your own age, appears a moment later in a flurry of magazine pages. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, so I grabbed a few.”

“The December issue, dear.” Lisa holds out an expectant hand and Dina hands over the magazine. There’s a pouty-lipped model on the cover wrapped in nothing but Christmas bows. You don’t tend to focus too much on looks and beauty magazines (your hero work has been all encompassing for quite sometime), so you’re curious what Lisa is going to recommend.

Lisa used that dazzle dry top coat that makes your nails try extra fast, so you’re able to handle the magazine with ease when Lisa hands you the copy.

“Flip to page 35, dear.” She says as she starts to paint your toes to match.

You do as she says, and your jaw drops. The pages are covered in snapshots of lingerie.

“The key to that Todoroki boys heart?” Lisa says nonchalantly as she files your toes softly. “It’s a home cooked meal and one of those outfits.” She points with her nail file to the page. “Men can’t resist fancy underwear.”

You gape at the spread. You’re surprised at the wide variety of lacy thong and underwire bra sets that stare back at you. You’ve never worn something sexy like this for Shoto before…he’s never had a problem with your cotton Aerie underwear and comfortable sports bras. You wonder if he’s be into any of these strappy monstrosities.

“I don’t know Lisa…” You hold the magazine closer to your face to get a good look at a pair of crotchless panties that look like a collection of strings bound together with a small bow. “These don’t really scream ‘me.’ I don’t know if Shoto would be into this?”

“If you’re looking for something to make the night special, this could be a good option.” She says, layering down ruby paint on your big toes. “You can get something more subtle – look at the little Santa themed number at the top of page 36.”

“How many times have you looked at this that you know the pages by heart?” You ask her curiously.

“I have a photographic memory as part of my quirk.” She shrugs, finishing the first layer of red across your toes. “And yesterday was slow, I basically read this cover to cover twice.”

You look over at the outfit she’s recommending. It’s a tiny bit more subtle – a bra and panty set that’s supposed to emulate Santa’s Christmas suit. The bra is lacy with red bows and the panties have white trim with a tiny gold belt buckle on the waistband. It’s kind of cute, but still way sexier than any underwear you’ve ever owned.

“Just think about it.” Lisa says as she finishes up your toes with some topcoat. “They sell all of this in the lingerie store down the way. I promise you that if you buy a set of these, you are gonna get the best dicking of your life tonight.”

That does catch your attention. It would be really nice to have a good fuck with Shoto tonight. And that lingerie set would match your nails…

“Do you give sex tips to all your clients?” You raise an eyebrow at Lisa as you take a photo of the magazine spread with your phone camera. She smiles gamely and shrugs again.

“People come to my salon for advice of all kinds. It’s my job to know what they need to hear on any given day.” She winks as she cleans up her supplies, placing all of the little nail polish bottles and files on a small wheely cart.

“Well I’ll let you know if I end up going for it.” You say as Lisa leads you over to the nail drier for your feet.

“Please do, dear. I’m a sucker for a romantic story. Do tell me, though…how big is he?” She cackles and the rest of the staff look over curiously. Your face turns bright red as you realize what she’s asking.

“Big enough.” You say conspiratorially.

“So over 6 inches. That’s what I had my money on.”

And that’s how, an hour later, you end up in the fancy lingerie store. Everything is covered in holly and bells and bows and your eyes don’t know where to look. You’re instantly over stimulated, looking around desperately for a helpful sales associate. You try not to look at the price tags – you make great Pro Hero money now, but you’re still not used to splurging on silly things like underwear.

You wander the aisles, stopping at the holiday section. You warily eye a string bikini-esque number on an mannequin. It looks restrictive and uncomfortable, a bit like something a villain would use to restrain a civilian in peril. You shy away from the ensemble and continue browsing.

Finally, a perky salesgirl approaches you. “Hey there! Merry Christmas! How can I help you today?”

“Oh thank God.” You breathe a sigh of relief. “I’m looking for something a little more…subtle.” You point vaguely at the strappy monstrosity to your left. “I have a big date tonight.”

The sales girl nods empathetically. “Let’s find something more your style!” She leads you up and down the aisles and points out a few pieces that are a bit more conservative for what she calls “beginner lingerie girlies.” It doesn’t take long for the two of you to pick out a few cute sets that are a bit lighter on the straps and lace.

“Now this one is sure to knock ‘em dead.” The salesgirl pulls out a ruby red bra and panties set that perfectly matches your nails. The bra is lacy but provides a good amount of coverage, with a few small bows and affixed to the straps and bra cups. The panties, you’re relieved to see, are not crotchless. They have a perfectly fine cotton gusset, thank goodness. The waistband is lacy and adorned with a few bows to match the bra, but it’s nothing crazy.

“This is honestly perfect. Just what I was looking for. You’re good.”

The girl smiles and laughs. “I’m a professional when it comes to the art of sexiness! Now let’s go have you try these on in the fitting room.”

It’s not long before you’re paying for the bright red set and the sales girl is packing it into a bag filled with glittery tissue paper.

“Good luck tonight!” She gives you a thumbs up as you put your wallet back in your purse and reach to loop the bag around your wrist. “Hold on…aren’t you a Pro Hero? Isn’t Shoto your boyfriend?”

“And that’s my queue to leave!” You sweep out of the shop before the girl can snap a picture of you lingerie shopping for your boyfriend. “Merry Christmas!”

You get home and deep clean your apartment, throwing your sheets into the wash and emptying the dishwasher for good measure. It’s been a while since you’ve made soba, so you pull up a few recipes on Pinterest and arrange all of the ingredients on the counter. Shoto will be thrilled, you can’t wait to see that bright starry look in his eyes when he realizes that he’s going to get to watch you busy in the kitchen. You see your cute checkered apron hanging on the back of the closet door and grab it in a sudden fit of inspiration. You’ll use it later.

After laying out all of the ingredients and tidying up the living room, you make your way to the bedroom where you layout your lingerie purchase. It’s cute, you decide. You like it a lot and you feel like it looks good on your muscular and scarred Pro Hero body. You’re a little bit jittery as you wonder at Shoto’s reaction. It’s been so long since you’ve felt sexy and fluttery like this – it reminds you of how you felt just out of school when Shoto asked you to dinner for the first time. It feels like that was forever ago…you’re so glad you still feel flirty and fun with Shoto a few years into your relationship.

You take your sheets and bedspread out of the drier and smooth it out onto your mattress, taking care to bat out any wrinkles and to fluff the pillows. You’re going to fuck Shoto senseless on this bed tonight, and you want it to be absolutely perfect.

You check your phone for the time and with a thrill realize that Shoto will be home to your apartment in less than a half hour. You quickly take off your clothes and grab the lingerie, ripping off the tags haphazardly and tossing them into your tiny wastebasket. You pull on the underwear and turn to look at yourself in your full length mirror. You’re pleased with how good you look – the bra makes your breasts look full and bouncy in a way that your Pro Hero costume simply does not. The panties are high waisted and cinch in your waist in a pleasing way, hugging your booty. Your ass looks down right smackable.

You finish the ensemble by tossing on your puffy checkered apron over the lingerie. You tie it in the back with a sweet little bow, pleased at how the skirt flares out and compliments your figure even more. From the front, you look fully clothed and as if you’re wearing a cute mini dress, the apron’s bib hiding your cleavage favorably. But from behind, you look sensual and illicit in your lacy, bowed underwear. You shiver a bit at the chill in your apartment – you don’t typically navigate your living space in nothing but underwear, and you make a mental note to turn up the heat before Shoto’s arrival.

You hurry back out to the kitchen to toss some slice and break crescent rolls into your little oven before Shoto arrives so that you’ll both have something to munch on as you prep the soba. Within ten minutes the dough has risen into beautiful golden brown rounds of bread on the cheap tiny pan. The oven has warmed up the apartment nicely and you don’t feel chilly anymore in your skimpy little outfit. You rest the hot pan on top of the oven and switch off the appliance. Shoto will arrive in any minute.

You dash back to your room to put the finishing touch on your outfit – throwing on what you affectionately call your “press event heels.” They are a pair of short patent leather kitten heels – a sleek and shiny black that compliments any outfit. You admire the full look in the mirror, pleased with yourself.

There’s a buzz at the door – Shoto!

You carefully sashay through your apartment, feeling hot and confident. You hit the button to buzz him up and smooth your apron-skirt as you wait. You hear his gentle footsteps down the hall, followed by his characteristic light knock on the door.

Demurely, you open the door.

Shoto walks in, already shedding his coat as he starts to speak about his day. “The agency was very busy today. I’m so glad I left when I did.” He turns to give you a kiss on the cheek and then catches a glimpse of your outfit. He steps back to admire the full look. His eyes bulge.

“This is…unexpected.” His jaw is slack and he stares at the way your long bare legs are exposed beneath the skirt of the apron. “Is this for me?”

You ignore him, biting back the Cheshire cat grin that threatens to give you away. “Sho, let me take your coat. I’ll hang it in the closet.”

He nods silently, still staring at your legs as he hands over his coat. You drape the jacket over the crook of your elbow and smooth out the wrinkles, tucking his bright red scarf into the coat sleeve for safekeeping.

This is your big moment. You take a deep breath and make a show of turning around so you can walk towards the closet.

You hear Shoto’s sharp intake of breath as he sees your backside. You can’t suppress your grin any longer as you make a show of swinging your hips the four steps it takes you to walk across the room. You let the jacket slip from your arm and onto the floor.

“Oh – oops!” You throw up your arms in surprise. “Let me pick that up…”

You slowly, sloooowly bend down to scoop up his jacket, giving Shoto a generous view of your lacy ass on the way down. You even wiggle it a little, letting your cheeks bounce with the movement. You grab the jacket and straighten back up.

“Now let me hang this up.” You open the closet and slip the jacket onto a hanger, glancing back over your shoulder with a dimpled smile to take in Shoto’s reaction.

He’s still standing in front of the door, absolutely dumbstruck. His jaw might as well be on the floor, and his eyes are bright in that special way they get when he’s horny.

“You like what you see?” You flash him a cheeky grin, slowly pressing your closet door shut. Before the door clicks into place, Shoto is striding towards you. In a rare show of aggression, he dips down and levels you, throwing you over his shoulder forcefully. You gasp in surprise as he hauls you towards your room, kicking your bedroom door open as he goes.

“Sho!” You cry out in shock, wiggling over his shoulder. He says nothing as he easily tosses you onto the bed, all Pro Hero muscles. You land with a soft thump on your tummy, bouncing a bit on the soft clean bedspread.

“Y/N.” Shoto says, his voice low and husky with want. You try to turn over but he places his hand lightly between your shoulder blades to hold you in place. “I can’t wait any longer. I need to have you right now.” There’s urgency in his voice you’ve never heard before – an edge. Your usual love making is fairly vanilla – all soft sighs and slow movements. Shoto likes to look at you while you fuck, likes to drink in your body with that intense gaze of his. This directness, this neediness – this is something new and thrilling for you. It zaps lightening bolts of arousal straight to your pussy in a way you never could have expected. You feel your brand new panties get damp at his tone alone.

“How do you want me, Sho?” You ask slyly, stopping your attempts to roll over to look at him. Instead, you slowly arch up your back and slide your knees forward to your chest so that your ass is tantalizingly up in the air.

“God. Just like that.” You can tell he’s struggling with his words right now as you shake your ass at him. He slips his thumb up the side of your bare leg and under the lacy material of your underwear where it covers your hip. He draws the fabric an inch or so into the air and then releases it so that it hits your skin with a light snap!

Fuck.

“You like what you see, pretty boy?” You call behind you, continuing to gyrate your hips in what you hope is a sensual way. You can just picture Shoto’s face right now –you bet he’s biting his lip the way he does when he wants you but he’s too polite to ask. He has far too many tells.

You feel his large hands grab the sides of your legs and slowly trace up up up over the sides of your thighs and ass, coming to rest on your hips. He lets his fingers get a good grip round the dip of your hips before he quickly pulls you backwards. You slide down the bed, letting out a small squeal of surprise and delight as you go. When he releases you, he has you bent over the edge of the bed, having guided your heel-clad feet to the ground. He uses his knee to spread your legs apart, keeping your ass on full display for him.

You never noticed how your bed is the perfect height for this. You shiver with delight as Shoto continues to run his fingers up and down your legs appreciatively. You hear the floor creak as he gets down on his knees behind you. You have no idea what he has in mind, but squeak in surprise as he brings a hand up to grab at the meat of your ass. He squeezes your right ass cheek experimentally, enjoying the way it jiggles. He then releases your skin, opting to smooth his thumb across the swell of your cheek gently. You feel yourself getting wetter with every caress and touch.

He lets his hands explore every hem and stitch of the lacy underwear. He starts at your butt – murmuring appreciatively as he pulls at the string-like thong that dips between your ass cheeks. He smooths his thumbs over the little bows sewed on at your hips, and traces light fingertips across the lace pattern at the elastic.

Once he’s had his fill with your backside, he slides his hand between your legs and gently caresses your pussy through your underwear. You let out a strangled moan as his index finger traces its familiar pattern over your leaking hole and up towards your clit. He plays with you for a bit through the thin, lacy fabric until you’re practically begging for him to strip you down and give you his cock.

“Sho…Sho please make love to me now. Sho I need you inside of me. I’m so wet and desperate and I need you to feel how much I love you. Shooo…” Usually this works – Shoto is a sucker for sweet talk and typically does anything you ask of him. But tonight, things are different.

“You’ll have my cock soon enough, sweet heart.” His voice is muffled as he presses a chaste kiss to your left ass cheek, pausing to nuzzle you with his nose. “Is this an early Christmas present for me?” He continues to play with your clit through the ruby red underwear. “You want me to unwrap you?”

“Yes. Yes – please Sho.” You groan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot. At this point, your panties are soaked through and you know he can feel that. He drags his fingertips down from your clit and strokes gently up and down your slit through the panties. He’s teasing you, and you’re absolutely loving it.

In an unexpectedly swift motion, Shoto hooks his thumbs up under the lacy garment where it rests on your hips and he tugs it down, letting the panties rest down around your thighs.

“You’re so wet already.” He says in surprise, looking down at your practically ruined underwear. The entirety of the cotton gusset is dark with your arousal. You make a muffled noise into your bedspread as the cool air of the apartment hits your exposed pussy. “It’s alright, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you soon – just hold on a little bit longer for me, okay?”

He grabs your cheeks and spreads them apart a bit, making you feel vulnerable but not in a bad way. You feel a finger explore your soaked pussy and you try to lean into the touch, but his caresses are so feather light you can’t get any good friction. He circles his finger lightly across your lips and up towards your core, gathering your slick on him like honey on a wand.

What happens next is something you never could have expected. He drags his wet dinger up, up, up and slowly begins to circle the pad of his finger against your asshole. He swirls it lightly so you can get every bit of sensation, gently so that you don’t buck up in surprise. You gasp at the sudden intrusion.

“Relax into it. It’s alright, baby.” Shoto whispers reverently as he watches your body twitch with pleasure. This is not something you’ve ever done before. To be fair, it’s something you chatted about a few months ago when you discussed sexual interests and things you might want to try someday…but to be perfectly honest, playing with your ass is not something that Shoto has everexpressed interest in before.

And yet…he does it like a champ. Easing you in slowly, letting you explore the sensation of his finger pressing lightly against your tight hole. The unexpected pleasure makes your pussy clench and flutter and you let out a low moan of appreciation as he uses his other hand to press a finger inside your weeping cunt.

“How’s this, Y/N?” He lightly fingers you with his left hand while he continues to play with your ass with his right. “Does it feel good?”

“Oh yes Shoto...fuck. Fuck that feels amazing.” You choke out, hands gripping the bedspread desperately as he plays with you like he has all the time in the world.

“Just relax and enjoy it. For once, we have nowhere to be.” He says quietly. And you realize he’s absolutely right. This is the first time in a long time that the two of you aren’t on a tight schedule and can just…be.

“Fuck I love you Sho.” You say through gritted teeth as he presses a bit harder against the tight knot of your ass, sending sparks of pleasure deep into your body. Your cunt grips at his finger hungrily as he steadily pushes into you, letting you take whatever you need from him.

“This outfit is just…” Shoto can’t seem to find the words to describe what your lingerie set is doing to him. “The heels. The apron. The underwear.” He slides his finger out of your pussy and shifts away from you, you groan at the loss of contact. However, your disappointed grunt becomes a moan of pleasure as Shoto presses his face into you so he can lap at your pussy.

His tongue is magic as it presses into you, his hands coming to rest on your cheeks for leverage. He laps up your delicious taste, swirling his tongue around in a delightfully irregular pattern. It feels forceful and intentional in the best of ways, but you feel like he’s trying to do something specific.

“Shoto!” You gasp out, backing that ass up into his face and trying to grind into his tongue. “W-what are you – ah! – trying to do?”

After a moment, Shoto comes up for air. “I’m spelling my name with my tongue. Denki told me people find it hot.”

Okay, that is so unexpected but also…yeah! It’s weirdly hot! You want him to keep going.

“Fucking claim me, Shoto Todoroki. Write your name in my pussy with your fucking tongue.”

Shoto doesn’t move for a moment, you wonder if he’s considering your words. “You’re on the naughty list this year, aren’t you? I never realized what a dirty mouth you have.” Shoto says this in his typical flat tone, matter-of-fact.

“Yeah I’ve been pretty naughty, haven’t I?” You’re gonna dirty talk this bitch into fucking you. “Did I mention that I bought this outfit on your credit card? I might need someone to…” you wave your ass in the air, not caring that your slick is dripping down your thighs and that your underwear is still stretched between your legs like a hammock beneath your pussy. “…punish me.”

This sends Shoto over the edge. You hear the floor creak again beneath him as he moves to get to his feet. You grin stupidly into the bedspread as you hear his buckle come undone and his pants drop to the floor. He steps forward, slotting your legs between his own. Dress shoes framing your patent leather kitten heels.

A moment later, you feel the head of his thick, hard cock pressing against you. You mewl in satisfaction when he takes a moment to rub his hardness against your clit the way you like. It’s taken a lot of communication over the years, but Shoto now knows that you like to build anticipation up a little before you do the deed. He plays with your pussy for a moment before sliding his cock down along your lips and lining up with your entrance. His hands shift to grip your hips tightly.

“Let’s get you back on the nice list.” He says as he slowly pushes his cockhead into your throbbing pussy. The soft stretch around his cock is delightful and you cry out as he pushes inch after inch into your hungry pussy. A dicking down indeed.

It’s rare that you don’t use a condom – birth control made you feel like shit so you weren’t on the pill, and Shoto was typically such a gentleman and had assumed all contraceptive duties. He has your bedside drawer stocked with all varieties of condoms and spermicide. But tonight…well, tonight is something special because Shoto is sliding into you raw and unprotected.

The feeling of his bare skin is too much for you to handle and your legs start shaking before he even bottoms out inside of you. He must notice that you’re already close to falling over the edge, because he takes it extra slow. He sets a cruelly slow pace, sliding in and out of you so that he can feel every tremor of your pussy around him.

“Fuck, Y/N. I wanted to make this night special, but I never imagined…” He thrusts into you with a little more force this time. “I never could have dreamed up this outfit of yours.” He picks up speed, a wet smacking noise fills the room as he fucks into you.

“I wanted to look – oh! – good for my favorite guy.” You practically purr. “Smack my ass?” You’re rewarded with a swift slap to your right cheek. You cry out in pleasure and your pussy throbs around Shoto’s cock. You feel him shudder in reply.

Shoto is usually one for slow missionary (or cowgirl if he’s feeling frisky). So being taken from behind is a novelty for you. You decide to throw it back, meeting every thrust with a bounce. Shoto grips your hips a little harder when he realizes what you’re doing, and you’re sure you’ll have finger print shaped bruises ingrained in your skin when you wake up in the morning.

“Y/N.” Shoto gasps out from behind you, definitely close to coming undone. “Y/N I love you...” He thrusts into you, hard. “So.” Thrust. “God.” Thrust. “Damn. “ Thrust. Thrust. “Much.”

“Fuck. Shoto – I’m gonna cum.” You cry out. It’s all too much for you – he’s just too damn hot and this position feels so fucking good and you think that doggy style might be forevermore your favorite sex position. At your words, Shoto starts to go deep. You feel yourself fluttering around him, desperate.

“Sweetheart. Cum around my cock?” Shoto’s voice is deep, near an octave lower than his usual voice as he groans at the feel of you around him. You can’t resist the way he talks to you. You fall over the edge moments later, your pussy throbbing and pulling at his cock as you ride out your high.

“Sho!” You cry out, creaming around his cock like some sort of porn star, throwing your ass back as you let him fuck you through it.

“Ah – fuck! Y/N. You feel so good, I can’t…” Shoto scrambles to pull out of you before he cums. Honestly, you’re surprised he makes it out alive. He hear the gentle smack of him jerking at his dick a few times before you feel his warm cum splatter across your back and ass, painting you with his pleasure. He finishes himself off before dropping onto the mattress next to you, breathing hard.

You lay in silence for a moment – you on your stomach and he on his back. You both take a moment to catch your breath.

“That was…” Shoto finally breaks the silence, unable to come up with the right words to describe the scene that just transpired.

“Yeah.” You say, laughter bubbling up inside of you. “Sho, where did that animosity come from? You’ve never picked me up like that before. And then you played with my ass? Were you planning that!?”

Shoto turns to look at you, his usually stoic face cracking into a smile. You turn to look back at him, noting that he looks a little silly wearing a dress shirt with nothing on from the waist down.

“You’re rocking a pooh bear look, by the way.” You add, pointing at his current outfit situation. He laughs at you and sits up.

“It’s just been so long since we’ve made love. And something about this outfit of yours just…” Shoto shrugs; getting to his feet and walking to the drawer he knows contains clean towels. He grabs a thick grey washcloth and returns to the bed so he can smooth it across your back and ass, cleaning up his thick ropes of cum. “I’ve been wanting to explore more with you for a while. It felt like a good time to try something new.”

“I liked seeing that side of you.” You hum appreciatively as he lifts your left leg and carefully removes your foot from the kitten heel. You didn’t realize how sore fucking in heels can make someone. He helps you to remove the other shoe so you can shift into a more comfortable position on the bed. “So you like lingerie, I take it?”

Shoto smiles as he pulls back on his boxers. “It seems that I do.”

You flop back on the bed, watching him unbutton his dress shirt. He’s so beautiful like this – his Pro Hero abs peak out from under his shirt delectably. You want to worship this man and his beautiful body. You want to press kisses to each curve of muscle until he fully understands just how much you adore him.

 He walks back to your dresser and pulls open his designated drawer so he can grab one of his favorite old All Might shirts.

“And you haven’t even seen the bra yet.”

His eyes widen comically in response. “…there’s more?”

You reach behind you and undo the bow at your back before slipping the apron up and over your head. You toss it to the floor. Shoto drops his All Might shirt to the ground in surprise.

He stares at you, awestruck, as you sit atop your bed in nothing but a lacy red bra. Your pussy is fully out and you’re sweaty with messed up hair, and he’s looking at you like you’re a goddess that’s just descended from the heavens. You can’t help but laugh at the dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Alright, so I think we’ve found a new kink for you, Sho. Good thing the local lingerie store has plenty of options for us to try.”

Shoto tries to shake his head to clear it, but fails miserably. He just keeps staring at you with that intense gaze of his. “Okay. Yes. This is something that I definitely like.” He bites his lip the way he does when he’s turned on, and you know in your bones that round 2 will be even more mind blowing than round 1. You start to spread your legs apart to invite him back to bed, but then your stomach growls loudly. You think longingly of the hot crescent rolls waiting in the kitchen on the stove.

“Babe…I have an idea.” You say, motioning for him to pick up his t-shirt from where it lays in a sad heap on the ground. “Let’s make dinner first, then we can come back here and explore this new kink of yours.”

Shoto’s face perks up at the mention of food. You bet he hasn’t eaten since lunch a the agency – he’s likely starving too.

“We’re going to cook dinner?” He asks, not even trying to hide the excitement in his voice. Takeout is usually the go-to for you both.

“Correction – I’m going to cook dinner. In my new lacy lingerie. And you’re going to watch.” You smile widely as he blushes. You can see the wheels turning in his head – he’s loving this idea. You’re tired and spent but you already can’t wait to be back underneath him with that wonderdick inside of you.

He nods enthusiastically, his own smile wide and bright. He reaches down to grab the tee and pulls it on in a single swift motion. You follow his lead and scamper to your dresser to grab a pair of clean panties. You find a nice plain pair that’s a shade of red off from your bra, but it will have to do. You step into the clean underwear and pull it on snuggly.

You grab Shoto’s hand to drag him to the kitchen.

“What are you making?” He asks eagerly, eyes roaming appreciatively over your body as he follows behind you.

“Your favorite – cold soba.” You smile over your shoulder, coming to a stop in front of the stove.

“You are the love of my life and this is officially the best Christmas Eve ever.” Shoto says, grabbing your face so he can kiss you soundly. You lean into the kiss, happy to have a rare evening off with Sho. He presses another kiss to your mouth. "It's like you're all wrapped up in a bow just for me tonight."

"Only for you, babe." You throw your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek. "Merry Christmas, Shoto."

The End. ❤️

---------------------------------------------

Okayyyy I hope you liked this holiday one shot! I churned this out and didn't get a chance to edit, so I hope it's alright despite not being my cleanest work! I purposefully didn't put in a lot of dialogue because I think that Shoto is more of an "actions speak louder than words" kind of person in the bedroom. He has slowly learned to add dirty talk into the mix because the Reader has asked him to over the years, but honestly he still doesn't talk that much during sex. I personally love a man who will talk you through it, but that's just not our Sho!

Alright...back into my cave so I can work on Shoto's First Kiss Part 8!

Happy Holidays, all!

XOXO,

RedRiotUnbreakableHeart ❤️

P.S. Here's my Master List! 🔥

[chisubi]

from the lovers’ grave — h. ran

content. fem!reader, one (1) suggestive scene near the end, something about grief, mourning, and love

word count. 10.7k

note. this was not meant to be long. originally, all i had planned was the scene with ran and rindō at the end talking and the confession scene for practice (i hate confessions) i am not sure what happened . . . also, this is unedited.

In the grand scheme of things, there were more good times than bad.

Of course, there’s no denying that during their teenage years of growing up, at some point, things have been deteriorating. Spiraling and spiraling and sprialing. They were just boys being boys, doing the only things they knew how to do, fighting and surviving; those moments were full of fun, exhilarating, a temporary bliss in this little corner of the world of theirs.

However, boys like them don’t live for long. They aren’t meant to. Just like how the saying goes: live fast, die young. Ran supposes the saying is true. Many of the people he’d known died before reaching adulthood, just like him — Kurokawa Izana. That’s just life, after all.

His funeral is a simple one. Nothing grand, and rather than how plain it is, it is more surprising how someone without a family – an orphan – is able to have a proper funeral. People like them never have one, forgotten by everyone and everything. And the one who stays forgotten by the world is Izana [to no one’s surprise], except for the few remaining members of the S-62 generation. Multiple police officers that keep a keen eye on all of them, and none of them are stupid enough to try and escape on a day like this — their bond with Izana is worth much more than that. It wasn’t something so shallow.

There are no decorations besides the white chrysanthemums and white lilies sitting in front of an old picture of him — a picture of when he first was admitted into juvenile detention all those years ago, he looked so young, his eyes were the same then as they are now. Dead. No sign of light. His cold body lies in a plain wooden casket. It’s an empty, stifling ceremony.

Shion is uncharacteristically quiet, and that alone would’ve been an insane sight if it were another day, but everyone understands his silence today. Nobody mentions it. Nobody says anything at all. It’s so silent, each breath drawn echoes, and something feels extremely off about the ceremony — something that has Ran glancing around the room every couple of minutes.

An obvious reason for this is how Kakuchō is not here; that kid would never miss this for anything, everyone knows this, and Ran can assume what happened. His injuries must be quite severe, and it’s rather a miracle that he had woken up, heck, even much earlier than the doctor’s expected. A sign of God’s mercy (and for a moment, in that cramped cell, Ran is a believer of faith). If Kakuchō is still awake, there’s no doubt he would be longfully staring out that white hospital room. Those cold, sad eyes of his watching the way the snow falls, burying the world.

And the other reason is how at the front of this cramped room, right next to the casket, sits a girl Ran has never seen before. It's alarming. Your head stays down as you only look at Izana, you haven’t bothered to look up since they have entered the room earlier. Ran can’t help, but wonder who you are. Who you are to Izana. An outsider to the S-62 generation that Izana had built from cold, scarred hands for delinquents like him. Ran wants to know so badly, but he is too tired, and now isn’t the time to focus on people he doesn’t know nor cares about.

Ran slips the singular white flower into Izana’s folded hands, all stiff, scarred, and freezing cold. A body of a dead man. He decides to place another: Kakuchō’s offering. Perhaps, that kid’s prayers would reach him, his heart has always been more pure than all of theirs combined, a softer soul trapped within this cruel world. Ran doesn't know why, but he whispers to Izana that he is sorry (he doesn’t know for what — maybe, everything), yet his eyes dwell on you.

When you turn and catch his curious eyes, he doesn’t look away; neither do you. Attempting to smile, it’s almost as if he’s looking straight into a mirror; a shiver runs down his spine.

He smiles back.

—

August tastes like cigarettes and bitter cherries. Just like it had last year in February, when blood, bones and ash had fallen and scattered around Yokohama that cold night, moments before the snow began to fall down. Gradients of whites and reds painting the town.

It’s a rather cool evening for a summer day when Ran finds himself visiting Yokohama after so long (even after his release, which had been quite some time ago, he hasn’t stepped foot here). There’s melancholy lingering in the air, much like how it always clings onto to long summer nights. Ran welcomes this, allowing his feet to lead him. Anywhere, everywhere, or nowhere at all. He just walks down the bustling streets, endlessly.

Something feels strange. . . Something is going to change this summer, something big; the unexpected always comes to people like him.

Downtown, there's a small bar that catches his eye. There's nothing too special about the shop — decorated with tacky neon flickering signs. Open, reflecting within his eyes. There's something inside of him that tells him he needs to enter, and so, he does just that.

And that feeling of his comes true within minutes. Ran sees you again. Coincidentally [or perhaps, fate, or by total chance].

The Izakaya isn’t really filled with people; either due to it still being early, since work hours are still going on or it just isn’t popular among the many identical shops along this street. And he should’ve invited Rindō to come with him; who enters and eats at an Izakaya alone? Ran has never gone out to eat or drink alone before, either way, it’s not like he’s a kid, so it doesn’t really matter that much, but he knows Rindō will be bitching to him about going out to eat alone. Well, that’s something he’ll have to deal with later.

Ran sits down at a table for two; ordering a small plate of yakitori and umeshu, something sweet and cold to drink. A waitress comes over and places his food down, his eyes widening at a familiar face, he speaks before he thinks, “Do you remember me?”

Your brows draw together, you look him up and down, then shake your head. “I. . . I am not too sure. I don’t believe so. Have we met before?”

He pauses. Disappointment swirls in his stomach, sinking. He tries not to think about why it makes him feel that way — like, disappointment is normal, but he knows he’s not someone unforgettable. “No. I must’ve been mistaken. Sorry ‘bout that.” He offers you a polite smile and that’s when he sees your eyes widen in recognition, the bar’s yellow lights flickering in yours; shining, shining, shining.

His finger glides against the rim of the glass cup, as he waits for you to speak — he knows you will say something. The ice cube clinks against the glass.

Clink. . . clink. . . clink.

“Oh—! Wait, um, you’re from the funeral. . .?” Uncertain as you carefully utter those words, he confirms this, and your eyes brighten. “Oh, hold on. Sorry, I can’t really talk right now, but my shift ends in twenty minutes,” you drift off, eyes darting toward the old big clock that hangs on the wall. You hopefully ask, “Wait for me?”

He nods. “Yeah, sure,” Ran casually says, ”take your time.” You thank him with a smile.

[Twenty minutes turn into fourty, and for some reason, he stays and waits for you. The yakitori was worth it, anyway. He’s grown to appreciate the taste of plums a little more today, too. It’s sweet.]

The both of you don’t say much tonight. Only indulging in introductions and small talk. The pier isn’t so far from the Izakaya, barely a ten minute walk away. When the two of you sit on the ledge, close yet not close enough to be touching, it’s all silent. Not a comforting one — one where the air feels thicker and there’s this itch where he feels as if he needs to say something to break this awkward tension. Curiously silent, because Ran has a lot of things to say — things he needs to know, but that can wait for another day.

“It’s a little breezy tonight,” you attempt to break the silence. He can tell there’s a lot on your mind, too, but you probably won’t say anything either. Not tonight, at least.

He offers, “Would you like my cardigan?”

You shake your head, declining. “No, but thank you. You might get cold without it.”

Relief runs over him when you decline because he is cold, he tends to get cold easily (which is something he and Rindō argue about because Rindō always, always, always turns the heat down in their apartment because he gets hot easily, even though Ran tells him not to touch it), and doesn’t like sharing his clothes or anything he owns with anyone. But Ran is a gentleman, or so he tries to be, girls feel special when he acts like this, and he likes making them think that. Well, sometimes he does. Sometimes, he doesn’t know.

“If you say so. That was my one and only offer so don’t complain after,” he halfheartedly teases (he still thinks you should’ve accepted it, because anyone would’ve if he was the one offering, but that’s your loss, really).

Maybe the way he was joking misses, because you simply reply, “I won’t.” And he hums. Silence falls over again.

“He was such an idiot,” your voice is anything but harsh when you say this. So soft, fond, a whisper of love. Too angelic, Ran is sure it will never reach him. He almost misses your words under the waves, too.

He doesn’t know who you are to Izana. A part of him understands, though. No matter what you two were or who you are, he knows you have loved Izana so dearly, you probably have for a long time. It’s quite obvious, the feeling of him that lingers onto you — he can feel it all.

His fists tightens around nothing, nail digging into his palm. How come he has never seen or heard of you before? Ran knows for a fact that Kakuchō knows you. Does Shion as well? He’s obsessed with Izana, obsessed to an unhealthy degree, so surely he knows or at least has caught a glimpse of you before. Maybe he really didn’t know Izana at all.

It’s kind of frustrating, he thinks.

Ran agrees with you. Though, he doesn’t verbally express it. Izana really was an idiot, a selfish one who was always stuck in his own head, and Ran would never get to tell him that. He’ll never get to tell him anything again. Bitterness, regret, and anger fill him for a split second, only a second, not a millisecond longer, because these emotions quickly fade back into nothing. Nothing because Ran can do nothing, but feel nothing.

“Do—Do you usually sit out here, doing nothing? Watching the world?” he sniffles. It’s summer, midsummer, heat is supposed to consume them, especially during these short nights, but the weather has been strange lately. He’s not even cold, it’s just when the breeze passes by, he gets bad shivers.

The flame of the lighter flickers, you’re lighting a cigarette — he didn’t peg you as a smoker (despite only knowing you for less than an hour at maximum), and he grimaces once he catches sight of a little pink box sliding back into your pocket. Pianissimo. Peach flavoured, of course, he almost snorts.

“Sometimes,” you reply as you breathe out the smoke. “We can go somewhere else if you want.”

You pass the cigarette to him, he accepts, saying, “Nah, it’s fine.” Your smeared lip gloss stains the tip of the cigarette, his lips overlap with the marking, inhaling the bitter smoke to feel that familiar burn, it’s quite mild compared to what he prefers, something sweet lingers within, too.

“Okay, but that was my one and only offer.”

Ran chuckles at the familiar remark, and you let one out, too. “Okay. I get it.” He passes back the cigarette. “A cheeky one, aren’t you?” It comes off more flirtatious than intended, but it makes you smile at him, cheekily.

You’re captured by the moonlit water, cigarette ashes drifting down, down, down, eyes taken by the ashes, his eyes drift back to you, and that sentimental expression you wear.

(Losing someone isn’t anything new. It’s normal in a world like this. He wonders if you know this; you definitely do.)

—

“You sure you don’t want to come?”

“I am sure,” you tell him, “it’s not even a party, it’s just a get together. Go have fun with your boys. Hasn’t it been a while since you’ve hung out like that?”

“Knowing them it will be a party instead,” Kakuchō replies with a short sigh. He has never been too fond of crowds and strangers. You wonder why he is so insistent on you joining, however you don’t ask. You tell him you are sure and want to stay home, before shoo-ing him out the door.

And despite your warnings [nagging, as Kakuchō likes to call it], when you go to see him the next day, you’re met with a hungover Kakuchō and two boys knocked out on his old, leather couch. One of them is barely hanging on, half of his body is dangling off, and you aren’t sure how he didn’t wake up from being uncomfortable. And the other, you are quick to recognise as Haitani Ran.

Kakuchō was indeed right. It’s always a party with the Haitani brothers, you’ve heard this from others before, too. You take a second glance at Kakuchō. Poor, poor, poor Kakuchō, who can barely open his eyes and stumbles his way towards you, more so to what you have in your hand, that glutton, you almost burst into giggles.

You greet him, asking him simple questions like: did you have fun last night? Too much fun, you guess. Are you hungry? And he’s replying to each one with nods and grunts and incoherent strings of ‘yeah’, ‘uh-huh’, and the most annoying one of all, ‘what’. Maybe, you both were too loud because the sound of shuffling behind catches yours and Kakuchō's attention. Both boys are awake — stuck in a similar state as Kakuchō — sets of tired purple eyes peering around the room as if they didn’t even realise they crashed at their younger friend’s place.

After a few seconds, Ran speaks up. “Oh. Good morning.” He doesn’t look too surprised seeing you. His hand ruffles through his wavy hair, smoothing out his bed head as he flashes you a grin. Ran has a pretty smile. He’s pretty first thing when he wakes up, and that alone makes you envious. It’s unfair.

“Hi, good morning,” your voice comes out a little quieter than you wish it had.

Ran is still smiling, as he repeats, “Good morning.” A slight pause as you smile, too. He cocks his head to the side, introducing the boy beside him. “My baby brother, Rinrin,” he lazily introduces.

“Don’t call me that,” the boy [Rinrin] grumbles as he turns to you and gives a slight nod, “Rindō.” Rindō, not Rinrin, bends down to sweep up a shirt from the floor, slipping it back on, covering his tattoo, long black ink that paints half his chest. Your eyes linger for a moment too long, before moving onto Ran, whom for some strange reason, you know to have the other half of that tattoo on his body. They look so different yet alike.

Ran raises an eyebrow, a grin tugging on his corner of his lip once he catches your lingering gaze. Like he knows exactly what you’re thinking. He mouths, ‘What?’, you turn your head away, feeling embarrassed. Your body heat rises to your neck, cheeks, and ears.

You can feel another set of eyes on you, not belonging to Ran, however you don’t look back up. You place the homemade bento on the counter, Kakuchō lets out a sigh, “Finally.” You roll your eyes at the boy.

“Sorry, I didn’t know Kakuchō would be having guests, so I only made enough for one person. . .”

You aren’t actually sorry. It’s just a little awkward. Kakuchō could’ve given you a heads up. It feels rude only bringing a meal enough for one when there’s a party of four (though, you didn’t plan on staying over after dropping off his food).

“Nah, it’s cool. We can share,” Ran says.

“No. Let’s order something else, too. I’m starving.” Rindō brings up. You all collectively agree with him because there’s no way the food you had brought is enough for the four of you.

Ran orders yakisoba and soda for all of you. Kakuchō loudly complains when he notices the two of them picking at the food you made for him, even with the yakisoba right there.

—

“So,” Ran begins.

You look up at him. “So?”

“Can I call you later?”

“For what?”

“To see you again,” he replies, “I have a feeling we’re going to keep running into each other.”

“That may be so.”

—

Haitani Ran was right. You do meet again and again and again. Sometimes he will get a call, lips pressing into a thin line, threatening to fall into a frown as he slips into another room for a few minutes before coming out to tell you that he has to go. He doesn’t say what, you don’t ask, but you know. It’s the same thing that has Kakuchō leaving his apartment in the middle of the night, too. You try not to think about it – acknowledge it – it has nothing to do with you.

He stops by from time to time, dropping by whenever he is in the neighbourhood, much like today. You’re no longer surprised when you open the door to be met with that charming smile of his, rather once you hear the familiar sound of knocking or ringing of the doorbell, you sort of expect it to be Ran.

“You play the guitar?” His line of gaze falls onto the acoustic guitar sitting in the corner of the living room.

“Hm? Oh no, that belongs to Izana.” Used to. A pause, before you add, “There was a time when I used to beg him to teach me and he gave up after an hour.”

Ran snorts as his lips curl up. “That’s a good job for you then. He would’ve given up on the guys in less than five minutes so you probably did okay, right?”

You laugh at his words. It’s the truth, because Izana has always been an impatient (impulsive) guy. “Maybe. Kakuchō was able to learn how to play it, and I remember being a little jealous of him because Izana seemed happy to have someone to talk about music with.”

You were jealous, upset, embarrassed at your lack of ability — you thought, maybe you just aren��t talented? You eventually came to terms with it. But there were moments when you would watch Izana and Kakuchō play their guitars (—Izana set money aside and bought a used guitar just for Kakuchō, you assume Kakuchō leaves it hidden away, far away from everyone and everything), the room fills with music and you would be sitting on the couch listening, listening, and listening until you’re slowly drifting asleep to their melodies.

You take a hollow breath.

“Those two have known each other since they were kids. . . Ah, you, as well, right?” he asks and you nod your head in confirmation.

“Yes, that’s right.”

Ran lifts his eyes to meet yours. Ever so purple, beautifully vibrant, like a gem, you’re afraid it could shatter. He smiles, softer, sadder. “I see. The three of you have a special bond then. Something others cannot replicate.”

Your heart races, then pangs at his words. Something special.

Yeah, it is special, you could never forget it. Even if you wanted to.

“Just like you and your brother. The charismatic brothers of Roppongi: the Haitani brothers,” you say, voice light with a small smirk on your lips. “I have heard some stories about you two.”

“Mhm, I bet you have. All good things, I assume?”

You tease, “Maybe, maybe not.”

He chuckles to himself. “So, good rumours,” he concludes with a satisfied look, “I am Haitani Ran, after all.” Definitely nothing good, you both know, or so, you assume Ran knows.

You agree, “That’s right, Mr. Haitani.”

He smirks at the name.

Ran doesn’t ask if it’s okay to touch the guitar, he just takes it, yet you can’t find yourself getting upset or complaining about it. You watch as he plops down onto the couch, patting the spot next to him, indicating you to come over, in which you do. “Ran, do you know how to play?”

He looks over at you and winks, “Oh, honey, that’s what you are about to find out. Keep your eyes on me.”

You roll your eyes.

It’s not even two minutes later, when you do find out, just like Ran had said. You learn he doesn’t know how to play at all. Ran plays the same tune over and over again, or he attempts to, it sounds nothing like the pretty way Izana plays. It’s clunky, off-tune, yet something about it feels tender. So, so gentle; your heart trembles along with the tune. Ran doesn’t seem to care about his lack of skills; lavender eyes softly gazed on the way his slender fingers move against the strings — a faint smile to his lips, rosy and glossy from your cherry lip balm you saw him put on earlier, as he plays Izana’s beloved acoustic guitar.

You remember Izana at this moment. The way he played all his favourite songs — how Bohemian Rhapsody and Under Pressure was played on repeat in his little apartment. How, on this very couch that you and Ran are sitting on, he used to get frustrated at how you couldn’t memorise or understand what he was teaching you (and in your defense, he sucks at teaching, definitely one of the only things he has ever sucked at), and you would cry at his frustration. Izana eventually gave up and instead learned to play your favourite song for you.

You wanted to learn it yourself, but you were so happy at the same time. It felt special. You felt special.

You remember, you remember, you close your eyes, and you remember it all. It dances to the memories every day, a little record stuck on repeat. It’s all you have left of him. What if one day your heart suddenly doesn’t remember?

“Falling asleep to my playing?” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

Opening your eyes, all you see is Ran in front of you.

You shake your head and smile at the sight, Ran catches it and flashes a pretty smile back, laughing beneath his breath as he attempts to show off by playing a series of random chords quickly. Giggling at his antics, you attempt to sing along; humming a random tune as the two of you try to match each other, clearly missing the beat. Soft laughter, light teasing, Ran playing the guitar and you singing along fills the room in your apartment. Your hearts dance along, ever so intimately. You feel light, so light, and you haven’t felt this way in a long time.

Maybe you could get used to this (perhaps, you already are).

“I don’t know anything about guitars or any instrument,” he admits, “maybe besides the recorder.” He looks disheartened at the fact as he stops playing and his fingernail taps against the wood, it echoes back.

“It’s okay, I am no good at it either. I also only know how to play the recorder,” only because it is mandatory to learn in primary school. “I am probably better than you at it, though.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge, young miss?”

“Maybe.”

“I guess we’ll have to find out,” he says. “Someday, of course.”

You nod. “Someday.”

—

Ran sleeps with you for the first time tonight. After dinner, he was too lazy, and your couch was too comfortable, so he didn’t want to leave, and you didn’t really seem to think of anything when you offered for him to stay the night. He didn’t think much of it when he agreed. It’s so innocent, yet more intimate than everything he has ever known. He feels. . . strange.

Your mattress is quite small, however Ran prefers it this way for obvious reasons. The dip in the mattress that allows you to get closer, he can feel your body heat so vividly, if he closed his eyes he could probably imagine it, except he doesn’t. He just stares at your bare face, who stares back at him.

“Your hair looks so pretty like this, Ran. I like it.” Your compliment makes him smile, it’s not often when someone witnesses his hair down, wavy and what he considers to be a mess. Your finger runs over the loose waves, twirling the end with your fingertip. He thinks you look pretty, too, in your pajamas, and bare faced.

You ask, “Can I braid your hair when we wake up tomorrow?”

“I like my hair a certain way.” He replied without much thought. He almost doesn’t notice that he didn’t necessarily reject the request.

You pout your lips, and give Ran your best puppy eyes — little gems are shooting out of your eyes towards him, but he is not one to fall for that. Do you think he’d be the type to fall for a cheap trick? If he were, he would’ve been screwed ages ago. You picked the wrong person for that. “Is that a no?”

He softly hums, debating to himself. “I am just—” he tries to think of the right word. He just hates when others touch his hair, his clothes, his jewelry, he spends so much time perfecting his appearance — he hates when others ruin it. “I rarely let Rindō touch my hair.” He decides to say this, because it’s something people can come to understand.

“I learn quickly. . .”

He sighs. Not one out of annoyance, more so at how he is so quick to give into your wishes. “Alright, fine. I will teach you how I like it done tomorrow.” You’re lucky that you’re cute, he almost adds.

He bites his tongue.

But he doesn’t know why. He says those types of things all the time. It’s a strange night. He’s been doing things he doesn’t do or say.

You lift your hand to his face, your pinky sticks out, “Promise?”

A pinky promise. Ran almost snorts — he would’ve if he weren’t so tired, if you didn’t look so cute and serious, and he would have laughed if it were someone else. Ran hasn’t pinky promised since he was a kid, barely eleven, promising something mundane to Rindō (the world, Roppongi, a new house, a new life, he remembers, he always will).

He softly sighs, sending you a sleepy smile as he locks your pinky with his. His thumb presses against yours, sealing the promise with a kiss. His eyes flicker down to your soft lips, you are grinning so happily over a mere pinky promise, what a simple thing bringing you happiness. “I promise.”

For a moment, he thinks he could give you something worth more than this little promise — pretty, shiny things that could make you smile even more. But he knows you aren’t someone like that. And that’s fine to him.

If braiding his hair makes you happy, for some weird reason, then he’s okay with it, too.

—

Ran awakens in the middle of the night, the room is coated in darkness, the moonlight shines through the crack of the curtain and that is how he knows it is still night time. He is not used to not sleeping in his own bed, he immediately notices your lack of presence, fingers tracing the empty surface, the side you had slept on is barely warm; you were still here not too long ago.

He slowly gets up, quietly walking down the hall to find you sitting curled up on the couch, on the side that is closest to the wall where Izana’s guitar rests. Unaware of him, his presence, and everything else in the world.

He lingers everywhere in your apartment, your home, your mind. It leaves Ran questioning: when you make a person your home, where do you go when they’re gone? Where do you go? Tell him.

He leans against the wall, asking, “You can’t sleep?”

Your body jolts. Your head snaps up, as you glance in his direction, and you shake your head, beginning to relax. “Oh, Ran. . . No, I was just getting some water.”

He hums, going along with your poorly webbed lie, your heart is exposed bare on your sleeve, so cold, lonely, he glances from the empty coffee table to the acoustic guitar to your unshed tears. You are seriously a terrible liar. That’s a good thing for him. “Do you mind the company?” He doesn’t want to intrude somewhere he doesn’t belong.

You shake your head once again, “No. Not at all.” You pat the spot next to you, and Ran moves from the wall to the spot next to you. You’re watching him silently, sinking back into the cushions.

“Are you thinking about him?”

You tilt your head towards him, sending a weak smile, unable to find the words for an answer that the both of you already knew.

“It’s okay. Sometimes, I still think about him, too.” He assures.

You ask, “You do?” You sound rather surprised, and he is also surprised by his own honesty.

“Yeah. He was. . .” Words die easily on his tongue as he struggles to find the right words to say. There’s not much he can say, despite all of the memories and feelings he once had. What can he even say about Izana? He can’t think of anything nice or normal that one would say about an acquaintance (friend, comrade, boss). “He was an interesting guy. I kinda admired him.”

He was an interesting guy, Ran had thought so their first meeting, years ago back in juvie. He was the only person that left a deep impression on him. Izana was many things. Anything, but a good man. He used to be a good boy (probably), once so long ago. Ran really did admire him, he wouldn’t have followed just anyone. He admired him to the point where he spent his entire youth following the boy.

“I did, too.” Barely heard even in this room containing only the two of you, it sounds a little bitter. Just a tad.

“Yeah, I’m sure he knows,” he says, leaning his head down to rest on top of yours. You breathe quietly next to him, all of the little noises can be heard in this silence. Your legs stretch out, dangling beside his.

It’s a long time before either of you speak. And then, you look up at him. There’s something glimmering in your eyes.

You tell him a story and then two more of your childhood. You laugh and tear up through them. He laughs, stays silent, and smiles as he tentatively listens to your every word. It’s his turn, you don’t ask him, but it’s only fair if he shares something personal with you; something he and only Rindō know. He wants you to know. He wants to tell you sides of him that he’s outgrown and sides that nobody knows. He tells you about the dog Rindō wants to adopt one day, you say you want to see it, but Ran tells you about how he doesn’t really want to have pets in his apartment (though, it’s sometimes hard to say no to Rindō). You tell him about the stray cat you used to feed a few months ago, and how you haven’t seen her in a few weeks. She’s probably fine, Ran tries to assure you, there’s a chance somebody had picked her up and adopted her. You hope so.

The two of you fall asleep on your couch, one far too small for him, curled up, and entangled together. He sleeps so soundly, the cotton of his shirt soaking up your silent tears.

[Ran believes — no, he knows that he visited you in a dream last night. He must’ve. You look so at peace.

The sun hits, orange light shining through the gaps of the curtains, and you look so at peace as you sleep, leg wrapped around his waist as you lay against his chest. His fingers run through your hair, carefully, not wanting to wake you. His index finger ghosts over your cheek and Ran freezes when you shift in your sleep, smiling when he realises you aren’t going to wake.

You must be a heavy sleeper. Or maybe, you’re having a sweet dream and aren’t ready to wake yet.

He admires you for minutes that seem to last forever. He comes to terms with the fact that he’s doomed, and decides he doesn’t want to think about it or you anymore, before drifting back to sleep.]

—

When morning hits (or rather afternoon), Ran stops to look at you before leaving. His hand lingers on the doorknob. “You’ll be okay?”

You nod. “. . . Should be,” you reply, smiling. “See you later, Ran, and thank you.”

His eyes are gazing down at you, his expression seemingly confused — conflicted, before his eyes soften, turning back into pretty little gems. His smile is so pretty. “I’ll call you,” he says.

It’s a promise.

—

It’s Wednesday, your afternoon lecture was cancelled due to the professor’s sudden family emergency, so you invited Kakuchō to hang out around Shibuya. Luckily, he didn’t have any of those meetings to attend. “Are you dating Haitani Ran?”

Your heart almost stops at hearing this.

“What—no, of course, not,” you reply — one far too quick, your voice raises and you hear Kakuchō scoff under his breath. You almost stop your tracks, instead you turn your head in his direction, narrowing your eyes, clearing your throat before asking, “Why are you asking me that?”

He shrugs, opting on not replying to your question, and you frown, pressing your lips into a thin line. When you lightly hit his shoulder, he sighs, giving into you. “You always hang out these days.”

What a ridiculous reason. “Is that so weird? You and I see each other almost daily,” you reason.

Another scoff escapes his lips as if you had just said the most insane thing in the world. He tells you, “I’ve seen him leave your apartment in the morning. More than once.”

“We didn’t sleep together,” you defensively reply. A growing sense of irritation quickly builds inside of you. “It’s nothing like that. I swear.”

“So, it’s nothing.”

“Well, you know. . .” You trail off, looking at the people fleeing in and out of the cafés and clothing shops. You don’t deny it. You don’t know if you should, yet it’s not really anything, maybe something. He’s your friend. Just like Kakuchō. Just like Izana.

He sighs before saying, “You look at him like how you did with Izana.”

You freeze.

Kakuchō steps stop the moment yours do.

You look at him like how you did with Izana. You grow cold from those words alone, your heart tightens by an old memory of Izana flashing by. Those words play on repeat with the memories.

Just like Izana.

You feel faint.

There’s a tap on your shoulder, you notice the guilt on his face. “Sorry, didn’t mean to make you upset. I won’t ask, you don’t gotta say anything. I get it.”

“No, don’t be sorry, I am not upset.” You aren’t upset, but you don’t know how you are feeling. You know you aren’t upset by his words, but your heart stings. You want to cry, but you don’t understand why. [You do, and this makes you feel like sobbing.]

“Okay, well, can I ask why Ran? Rindō is the cooler brother,” he says.

Why Ran. You don’t know this yourself. You just know you like being with Ran. His presence is comforting, he makes you feel less alone in moments you feel alone. You just like being with Ran. You just want to be around that person. It’s as simple as that.

You roll your eyes, jabbing a finger into his forearm, lightly pressing your nail into his muscle. “You only say that because he works out with you.”

He shrugs. “Yeah. That’s the manliest thing someone can do. And he drinks more than any guy I know, it’s kind of insane, and he will still show up to the meeting the next day.”

You grimace. You could never pull yourself out of bed if you were that hungover — and, well, you’re sure that Rindō is dragged and forced to go to these ‘meetings’. Probably. There’s no way it is solely dedication.

“Right. Don’t be drinking with him, got it?” You don’t need Kakuchō developing even more bad habits. Sometimes you can’t help, but nag, even if it doesn't really reach him (if you were Izana, it’d be a whole different case), always going in and out the other ear. “Kaku, are you doing okay these days?”

“I’m fine, but also, a little hungry.”

“Kakuchō.” You lower your voice in an attempt to sound more serious — threatening, maybe. Obviously, it doesn’t work because Kakuchō doesn’t reply or react in any way. “Come on now. Talk to me, I know it’s something.”

He sighs, his eyes don’t meet any part of you. He turns away, the long, faded scar running across his face becomes hidden. “It’s always like this. In the end, I am always the only one who ends up surviving.” You’d prefer bitterness, anger, or sadness – anything – over the empty feeling in his words. Your heart aches, you don’t want Kakuchō to leave you, too.

You don’t even want to imagine such a thing.

You want to hold him.

Your hand reaches out to grab him, so firm and all of his little scars and calluses are felt and seen. Kakuchō looks down at you the moment you touch him. He doesn’t pull away. “I am sorry to say this, I know you won’t want to hear it now, but I am grateful for that. I’d be sad if you weren’t here with me. You are my family, Kaku. Don’t forget that. So, please don’t say something so sad.”

And he’s quick to look away again, too.

He says, “. . . I’d be lonely without you, too.”

Your hand tightens around his. His hand is warm, like it always is, his body always runs hot, too hot, but he is still alive. You’re alive. “You could at least look at me when you say that.”

He grumbles something incomprehensible, you tilt in your head in confusion, “Hm? What was that?”

“I said, ‘what do you want to eat?’”

“Aren’t you being too shy? I guess you’re at that age now,” you continue to tease him, watching as the tip of his ears turn red. Kakuchō has never been good at voicing his own feelings, he speaks through his actions alone — through iron fists and undying loyalty — just like most of the men you have ever known. You grin at the reaction. “Hmm, well, how about we have okonomiyaki tonight? It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

The three of you used to eat that quite often back then, Kakuchō would be the one who would always make it for you and Izana. You haven’t had it since then. You’re craving it like crazy now.

“Yeah, sounds good. Let’s find a place less crowded, though.”

He really is still the same. Just older now, maybe maturing and experiencing life in all the wrong ways. But he is still your Kakuchō.

You wonder if he thinks the same of you.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

And similar to Kakuchō, you’ve never been so fond of crowds, either. Arms linked, you walk to an old restaurant owned by a cute elderly couple. You tell him you love him (because you do, since back then and now and in the future), he almost pushes you away right then and there, you burst out in laughter.

Kakuchō sits in front of you, in the past he used to sit beside you, you assume maybe it’s because it’s easier to talk this way. A guess because you aren’t so sure. He accidentally makes an extra okonomiyaki the first round, a habit he cannot erase, you both know why, you don’t say anything. You take the extra okonomiyaki and eat it for him.

—

Ran believes that some things are meant to happen for a reason.

You and him.

Him and you.

He throws a party for his brother’s birthday as he does every single year. He only invites their friends who immediately invite other people they know as it always goes and the apartment is filled to a brim. Just like every year.

You arrive a little later than most people, due to work and having to get ready, and Ran immediately removes himself from a group of people surrounding him (a chorus of boo’s are thrown at him), and rushes over to you.

“Hey. You took a while.”

You’re all smiles around him already. “I had to shower and get ready first.”

“You still look pretty in your work uniform.”

You look up at him, pointedly. “And smell like alcohol and chicken and fish?”

Ran grins, “Not much different from here, yeah? I love eating chicken.”

You playfully shove him and his grin widens as he pulls you into the drunk dancing crowd.

When he makes eye contact with Rindō, who is DJing (like always), his brother is clever enough to change the music to keep the two of you close. Bodies are bumping into him and you, you’re really close and your hands are in the air, in your hair, and on him. People are too close, too loud, too intoxicating. He has to lean down every time you attempt to say something to him — a lot of it is just you singing — and your lips brush against the shell of his ear every time.

Every. Single. Time. Electricity jolts through him.

Hair is sticking to your forehead, face red and glowing from dancing, sweat, and the mixture of body heat; you’re stunning and all Ran can think of is how badly he wants to kiss you when you bite your lower lip when you meet his gaze once again.

He pulls you closer, and it happens within a second. You kiss him first. Lips briefly pressing against his, you’re quick to pull back before he can reciprocate, and you flash him a smile more blinding than these flickering neon lights. He pulls you back in for a proper kiss this time.

Admittedly, this is not your first kiss together. He had kissed you once before – barely a peck – one night when he had picked you up from work and drove you home. It can barely be called a kiss, but Ran would be lying if he said it didn’t cause a shock that ran through his entire body. Later that night, alone in his room, his thumb brushed over his lips and they still tingled with the feeling of you.

This kiss, unlike the previous brief and fleeting exchange, he can taste all of you. Openmouthed, desperate, and a little shameless, too (but he doubts anyone is actually paying attention). Your hands find their way to his hair — much like they always seem to do — and Ran sighs when your fingers run through, gently scratching the nape of his neck. You look up at him with a gleam in your eyes, and he swears he wants to undress you right then and there.

Except, he wouldn’t do that. Plus, a loud whistle and a familiar voice jerks him back to the present (reality). It takes so much in him to hold himself back, he has to physically pull himself away from you for a second. He turns and glares at the interruption — Shion. Obviously. That fucker.

“What?” he asks, slightly annoyed and amused at the boy’s fucked appearance.

Shion grin widens, face glowing with sweat, red eyes, high and drunk on whatever someone had snuck in. Someone sure is having a good time. “Just—‘m just enjoying the show,” he slurs as his eyes make their way behind him, to you.

Ran steps forward and places a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Shion wobbles with a faint touch. “Go sit down, Madarame. You’re gonna fall over.”

Shion ignores him, brushes past him, and asks you to dance. Ran groans, calling out his name, but Shion blocks out his voice and smiles at you.

So, sure, he and the boys have this thing of cockblocking each other for shits and giggles, but now was definitely not the time for that. He needs to learn how to read the room. Damn idiot. (This is probably Shion’s payback from the last party, and all the times before that, but Ran swears it’s funny when he does it.)

You look from Shion to him and Ran shrugs, as if a shrug is enough to let you know that it’s just Shion, so it’s fine if you wanna dance with him, or not. After a second, you accept his dance with a curt, “Sure.” And Shion smiles, wide with all teeth.

“Behave yourself,” he warns Shion before turning to you. “I am gonna get some water. I’ll leave you to it for a bit.”

Ran walks over to join Rindō at his DJ booth.

Rindō looks at him with a raised brow as he makes his way behind the booth. “You lost your girl to Shion,” Rindō loudly snorts.

“Just letting him be around a girl out of his league for once,” Ran jokingly replies, and they both laugh. “Change the song for me.”

The song switches to something more upbeat; everyone is spinning and jumping, you and Shion, too. He can barely hear his own thoughts through the loud vibrations of the bass. He and Rindō talk about nothing, and Ran lets Shion dance with you for two whole songs. Shion is an idiotic lunatic, especially when he’s drunk, but he’s not stupid enough to do something he knows he shouldn’t. His hands don’t leave your hands, rather, Ran thinks you’re making sure Shion doesn’t let go of your hands, so he doesn’t fall over. Ran thinks you might be too nice. He’s having a good time and so are you, so that’s all that matters. He likes watching you dance, even if it’s not with him.

At some point, he runs to the kitchen to get a cup of water, and when he returns to you, Shion is nowhere in sight. That boy never stays in one place for long.

“Sorry, Shion is an idiot,” he tells you as he offers you the cup in his hand, basically forcing it into your hand to drink.

You chug back the water, no doubt exhausted and dehydrated from all the dancing and sweaty bodies around you. “He’s a funny guy. I had fun.”

Ran gives you a skeptical look. “Guess so, but feel free to ignore him next time.”

You grin, “Really, Ran, he was nice!”

“I sure hope so.” He leans down as whispers against your ear, “My room?”

You nod.

And finally, you’re on top of him. Ran is laying on his back, propped up by his elbows as he watches you take off your top, far too slowly, because you like to tease, and Ran is an impatient man deep down. But in this moment, he lets you do your own thing, and watches, watches, admires your every subtle movement. The real thing is much better than his daydreams. Yes, in the moment, he almost thanked Buddha.

You lean down to kiss him. Rather soft and innocent compared to the way you shift on top of him, and the way your hand runs down between the two of you. He’s rather shameless, and doesn’t bother hiding the way you make him feel. There’s nothing greater than pleasure.

Your movements come to an abrupt stop, and Ran suddenly becomes more aware. For a moment, he thinks you must be teasing him once more — Ran doesn’t beg.

He asks, “You okay?”

You stay quiet, he can’t see your eyes, something is wrong.

“Hey, is there something wrong?” His hand is immediately searching for yours, unknowingly. You pull your hand away before he can reach it. You pull your hands together.

Your voice comes out too quiet. It shakes at the end.

“. . . I’m scared,” you admit.

Ran pauses, his expression drops and he’s quick to sit straight up, reaching over to grab your hand, pulling it into his. His thumb brushes against the back.

He pulls you in his arms, your head lays against his chest as he whispers, “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.” He doesn’t need this. “It’s alright, don’t force yourself.”

“No, that’s not what I—” you’re cut off by a whine; your own cry.

He’s scared to death the moment you begin to sob. Full on sobbing, you’re choking, and he can’t calm you down. He’s frantically trying to speak to you, but his words are not reaching you.

He wants to know what’s wrong. He needs to know what he can do to help you. There’s nothing he can do, except hold you.

“I, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

He frowns. Wrong. Your words alarm him. “There’s nothing wrong. It’s not wrong. Trust me.” He tells you, more firm than his usual tone with you. “You’re okay, baby.”

You shake your head. “It’s not.”

“It is.” He grabs the blanket beneath the two of you and wraps it around your naked figure.

You try to say you’re sorry — words don’t come out, but Ran knows you’re trying to apologise for something that only exists in your mind. There’s nothing wrong at all and he needs you to understand this.

“We’re okay, trust me. We’re more than okay.” He reassures as he holds you a little tighter when he feels your shaky form against him. “Don’t force yourself to do anything, yeah?” His voice drops to a comforting whisper, “Just breathe for me. You can do that.”

You cry into his chest for an hour. He says nothing, but strokes your hair and quietly calls your name from time to time.

After a long time, when your sniffles begin to slow and the party outside the door begins to die down, he asks, “Are you okay?”

“No,” you say, and leave it at that.

(You think Ran doesn’t understand, and you feel bad because you don’t know how to tell him how his sweetness and understanding and patience with you causes you to cry even more. He’s so sweet, it aches, and aches, and aches, but his arms around you bring comfort and security, and then, so do his lips.)

—

Leaves decay, autumn passes, and it’s almost Christmas. Snow fell greatly last night, piles and piles of snow pack up, and Rindō is dragged outside to play. Play as if he is some seven-year-old kid once again.

The three of you are outside their apartment complex, you’re rolling snow to make a snowman next to one that has already been made — probably by the family that lives on the first floor. They have two little kids — one boy and one girl. Rindō remembers bumping into them in a drunken state, and the mother looked at him in disappointment and disgust as she blocked him from her children (obviously, he wasn’t going to do anything, but he can’t exactly blame the woman, either), Rindō scoffed at her and stumbled his way upstairs.

He and Ran aren’t doing anything, just standing on the sidelines, lighting a cigarette, and watching you. When Ran passes him the cigarette, Rindō is quick to take notice of the difference in smell and taste. Since when did he start smoking another brand? Especially something like this. Still, he smokes it with him without complaint.

“So,” Rindō starts off, gaining his brother’s attention. “How are you?”

Ran’s face twists, he stares at his little brother strangely, as if he had grown another head. “Huh?”

Sure, it is a weird question, because no matter how close they seem (are), they don’t talk about feelings or anything like that, even if they are together almost 24/7. But Rindō just wants to know this time, he’s so curious, because something has changed about his brother. It’s noticeable in everything he does.

His eyes flicker from him to you. “You and her. The two of you are together now, or what’s going on?” Rindō is curious. He knows there’s something more going on, he’s no fool, and the way your eyes always seem to find each other basically screams it to his face. “Hasn’t it been a while?”

Ran shrugs, poker face, as always.

Rindō just lets out an ‘Ah’, and that’s that. There’s never much to say between them because they’ll just accept anything about each other without an explanation.

However, Ran continues speaking about it, much to his surprise. “I am actually fine with it, y’know.”

“Fine with what?” he asks.

“How there will always be a little part of her who loves Izana.” Ran says this so casually, Rindō’s mouth opens slightly, yet there’s nothing he can think to say so he shuts it and stares on ahead. “Even if he were still here. . . yeah, I’d be okay with it, too.”

Ran has always been complex in ways that nobody can understand, and when they finally think they do, he shows them that they never knew him at all. When he wants something, he’s quick to dive in and take it. He takes, takes, and takes. He’s quite cruel at times, it’s how he learned to survive.

(And Rindō learned that from him, too.)

If Izana were here, somewhere in another life, he knows you would still choose Ran — that’s probably what his brother is thinking. That cocky, confident smile tells all. And Ran is probably right about it, he always is, and he’s annoying about that fact, too.

Ran’s eyes have always been a shade darker than his. Yet, in this light, they seem to shine brighter than his.

“Ran!”

The both of them look up. You’re running over, there’s snow in your hair, frosting over. Your smile is bright, teeth showing, the snow around is sparkling. Ran’s smile is suddenly all soft.

“What?” Even his voice is all smiles, and internally, Rindō gags.

“Come here,” your hand pulls him along. Ran follows you like a dog.

And suddenly, it’s only the two of you in the world; moving slowly, kicking snow onto each other, pushing, running, hands never letting go. It’s pure, gentle, something so rare and hard to find, Rindō's heart shakes at the sight of Ran and you.

The idea of Ran and you.

He’s a little jealous, but he will never admit to something like that.

He thinks about taking a picture of Ran to show him how idiotic he looks, but in the end, he decides not to. Ran won’t see what he looks like in this light, unless, as cheesy as it sounds, through the reflection of your eyes.

—

January rolls around, the very first day of the year, and Yokohama’s seaside never seems to change. Dawn is blue, forever blue, you feel as if your soul is about to cry.

Ran had shown up at your apartment right before the hand of the clock struck midnight to no one’s surprise. Well, maybe, you were a little surprised. His brother was throwing a New Year’s party (one you had declined the invitation to), yet here Ran is with you. You ask why, to which he replies with, “I just wanted to see you.” And that is enough for you to let him inside.

The two of you attempt to stay up all night — that attempt is quick to fail, because you both become entangled in your bed, falling into slumber. And once your alarm sets off at five in the morning, you’re dragging Ran out of your bed, pulling his clothes off from your bedroom floor, and pushing him out the door. His hand in yours. You take him to your spot by the pier, almost jogging. It’s nearly six.

“Sleepyhead,” you eventually call out, glancing at the sleepy boy beside you. He could sleep anywhere, you think. It’s a fact known to everyone around him. “You are dozing off. You’ll miss the sunrise.”

After a few beats, your words register through his head. He lazily nods, almost as if he’s nodding off again. “If you don’t say anything, I think I really will pass out,” he mumbles back, voice groggy and deeper than usual from his sleepiness.

You ask, “What do you want me to say?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?”

“Mhm. . .”

You ponder for a moment, before asking, “Do you think people ever truly move on from their first love?”

This is enough to wake Ran up. The weight on your head is lifted, he shifts. “That’s heavy,” he breathes out.

“You said anything.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he gives you an answer.

“It depends on the person.” He turns his body to turn and look at you. “Why do you ask? Scared to move on or do you think you’ll never be able to?”

You don’t lift your gaze, settling on the waves below. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. You can feel his eyes on you and the smirk that is tugging on his lips, even though you know he is being serious with you. He wants to know. He needs to hear your answer. “I don’t know. . . Do you ever think about your first love?”

“Nah, I don’t think about things like that, sweetheart.”

“Liar. You could at least pretend and go along with me.” He smiles when you say this. You softly sigh, going along with his silence. “But fine. If you did think about those things, do you think you would eventually forget about them?”

Ran’s eyes flicker, violet hues staring deep into you, as he huffs a silent laugh — one that feels a little sad compared to his usual ones. “I think I would carry a part of them with me no matter how much time has passed.”

His words make you softly smile. And they feel a little sad, too. “I see. . . You are quite the romanticist,” you tease.

For some reason, you feel as if your teasing never seems to work against him, he remains as composed as he always is. He whispers, “Aren’t we all?”

It’s strange how easily Ran’s words bring comfort to you. In ways where you feel heard and seen even in darkness. Ran is always like that. There’s a part of you that will never forget Izana, not now or in another life. He will always be someone you love and cherish. Ran understands this — he understands you, never judging. You understand him, too, and that’s all that matters.

“Hey, Ran, can I ask you something?”

“You sure have a lot of questions today,” he says with both amusement and curiosity swimming in his tone. “Shoot. What else is running through that mind of yours?”

You open your mouth, then pause.

“Hm? What’s with the sudden hesitation? Is it something embarrassing?” he teasingly asks, nudging his shoulder against yours, prompting you to speak your mind. “You can tell me. Promise, I won’t laugh.”

You know he wouldn’t laugh at you — always with you. Never at you. You just can’t find the right words to say to him. [Or maybe the courage.]

“You know I don’t judge you.”

“You judge everyone, Ran.”

His smile drops, and his expression turns more serious than you would like. “Surely you know that you’re not everyone.” He asks, “You understand, don’t you?”

You quietly reply, “I know.”

“Then is it something bad?” His voice goes quiet, too.

“No, it’s just,” you deeply inhale, turning your head back to the sea, averting your gaze from those eyes that look at you so softly [tenderly, with his full adoration], it causes your heart to tighten every time. You fidget with the ends of your hair, exposing your nerves. Another short pause and then you breathe. “I think. . . I think I like you, Ran. Like, a lot, and it terrifies me. Maybe you don’t believe me—I would find it hard to believe, too, because of—”

“I believe you,” his reply comes immediately. Voice so clear among the waves and seagulls calling above. “I can tell. You make it quite obvious sometimes, it’s hard for me to ignore, y’know?”

You blink. “Oh. Um, is it really?” you meekly reply.

Ran hums and heat rises up to your ears in embarrassment. You don’t think you’re somebody who is that obvious. Your face no longer feels the coldness of winter brushing by, internally groaning. You guess it was obvious. The two of you kiss a lot, you’ve gone further than that on a few occasions, and he stays over at your apartment more often than not. It is obvious. But liking and loving someone are two completely different things. (Love. . .)

“I feel the same. But how I feel . . . it is probably too soon to say how I feel for you, so I will wait until you are sure you want this.” His hand brushes against yours — cold from the cement and winter air, pinky dragging across the back of your hand. “Not too long, though. My patience isn’t so gentlemanly.”

Your heart flutters, embarrassment shifting to shyness. I feel the same for you, too. You try to not burst out smiling, lightly biting down onto your lip. Your cheeks betray you. You can feel the heat rising against the wind.

“Oh? Is that what people call you now? I don’t recall you being that much of a gentleman.”

Ran scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Really now?” Beginning to mutter to himself about how he treats you so well, that he’s been born a gentleman — it’s engraved into the very depths of his soul. And to some degree, those words are true. Ran has been nothing but patient with you. Someone who is always there when you need it.

I will wait until you are sure you want this. You do want this, you want to be with him — with the person beside you now. You want us. “Me too,” you say as you gather more courage, leaning towards him a little, your hand rests on his shoulder as you stare straight into those pretty lavender eyes. “I am falling in love with you,” you say to him, more sure than before.

You don’t waver.

A second passes, a wave crashes.

“Mm, I missed what you said. Say it again for me, sweetheart,” he says with that signature smile to his soft, pink lips, “for me, please?”

His plea makes you roll your eyes. Ran loves attention — both good and bad. He loves pretty things and pretty words, even more when they hold something so precious and meaningful in them. I love you. I love you. I love you. I like you so, so much. I want to be with you, Ran. Ran, Ran, Ran — sweet words that have been whispered to him many times before in the past (and many more times in the future, including now).

You lean over, cherry lips brushing against his ear, as light as a feather. You whisper a confession. A heartfelt confession. The wind rushes by, his hair tickles your flushed cheek, and a sweet confession only for the two of you to know, drowned out by everything else in the world.

It’s just you and Ran.

Snow gently falls, your hand found itself in Ran’s, his fingers intertwined between yours. He doesn’t let go. You don’t let go. Even when the sun begins to rise over the blue horizon, not when you’re walking back to your apartment, not when Kakuchō and Rindō stop by later for dinner and Ran is doing nothing, but admiring you as you cook. Neither of you let go for a long, long time.

It’s just Ran and you.

[the-gay-prometheus]

Thank you Dean and Cas, you can go back to superhell now or whatever.

OK. Now that I have your full and undivided attention.

What the &#!* is happening in Pennsylvania?!?

Hi. You can call me Jay or Victor (I go by both interchangeably). Who the heck am I? I'm just a guy who happens to be privy to a few of the finer details about some of the things going on regarding the election here in Pennsylvania due to my proximity to someone who is involved in the electoral process.

Skip to the "keep reading" if you don't care about the how or why I'm making this post and just want the details about what's going on.

You may have recently seen a post going around talking about how somebody has paid for many many many mail-in ballots in Pennsylvania to be challenged and therefore slowing the ability for those ballots to be counted or putting them at risk of being discarded entirely.

Note - the version of the post linked there is the EDITED version that includes my initial responses (thank you to OP @/feralcringeman for editing my addition onto the post!!!! and also a massive thank you for making the post in the first place!!!!! I'm glad more word is getting out about this situation!!!!)

I am not trying to undermine this individual's post by any means. However, thanks to the way Tumblr works, I am concerned about the fact that most people are only seeing the initial unedited version of the post and are not looking into the reblogs to see my responses.

THESE RESPONSES ARE IMPORTANT.

I'm not just saying that to be self-important or whatever - I'm saying that because it is extremely important that people understand exactly what is going on so that, if and when they take action, they take the correct action and don't start throwing accusations that will ultimately end with them not being taken seriously.

To make sure this updated information gets out to a broader audience, I am making my own post with everything you need to know included. Find out everything you need to know that I am able to tell you under the cut.

Here are the key things you need to know:

The emails in the original post are legitimate. Mail-in ballots are in fact being challenged in Pennsylvania, and there will be court hearings regarding the legitimacy of these ballots

These challenges are not being made by Donald Trump himself - they are being made by avid supporters of his.

These challenges ARE LEGAL by Pennsylvania law, and the law does require a payment to be made per ballot being challenged by the challenger

There was recent news about fraudulent voter registrations being received in Lancaster County. These have absolutely no connection to the individuals responsible for challenging the mail-in ballots

In Pennsylvania, there is a law stating that any Pennsylvania citizen may come to their county's director of elections and claim that certain mail-in ballot applications may be fraudulent. When they do so, they must pay cash out of pocket per ballot application challenged. This money will go toward whatever the county needs to put it toward (usually paying off debt). The amount required to be paid per challenge is $10.

A group of avid Trump supporters worked together to make use of this law in 14 counties:

In my county specifically, I am aware of an individual who paid over $7,000 in cash to challenge ballots - that is between 700-800 challenges in my county alone.

Across these 14 counties, the number of ballots being challenged is over 4,300. That is over $43,000 paid in cash out of pocket by Trump supporters in Pennsylvania specifically with the intent of attempting to, at worst, nullify perfectly valid mail-in ballot applications and void valid votes, or at best, slow down the vote counting process by forcing the counties to conduct court hearings regarding the legitimacy of these ballots.

The good news is, many of these counties are not taking these challenges seriously whatsoever. In some cases, the judges are literally just throwing out the challenges. In other cases, the ones who made the challenges are withdrawing their challenges because it's clear that their challenges won't be taken seriously. That said, some counties may take them more seriously and hold more intense trials. In some cases, the challengers may appeal the more swiftly made court decisions and force yet another court case, slowing things down even more.

What does this all mean?

Trump didn't cheat (at least not in this specific case). Technically his supporters that made these challenges didn't either. These challenges are 100% legal under Pennsylvania law. They're ridiculous, but they are legal.

So does this mean you shouldn't raise your voices about it? That you shouldn't contact the White House and include this situation in your note about how there was foul play in this election? Absolutely not. You should include this situation, but do not frame it as cheating, because it isn't. Frame it as just another way that this election has not been run entirely fairly, because while it is legal, it means that there are perfectly valid votes that are still waiting to be counted while extremely tight races are already being called.

~~~

With all that out of the way, what was that thing I said about fraudulent voter registrations in Lancaster?

This is a completely separate issue, as I've mentioned, and it's already been discovered that the vast majority of registrations flagged as potentially fraudulent have been verified as legitimate. What is important to note is that these were voter registrations, NOT ballots.

News of this situation has gone national, so of course Trump picked up on it (and visited Lancaster not once but twice after the entire issue came to a head). But Trump is Trump, so what did he say? He said that these were fraudulent ballots, fraudulent votes. That is not true.

The issue was voter registrations, potentially being conducted by paid political canvassers that were being given quotas on how many registrations they needed to get in order to be paid. Whether that bit is true or not is still being investigated - if it is true, it's very much illegal.

As I said, the good news is that the vast majority of the over 2000 flagged registrations have been verified as legitimate, and the number that actually does seem to be fraudulent so far is hovering below 20% of the number of registrations initially flagged.

Again, this issue is completely separate. You may see it being lumped together with the current issue of ballots being challenged, but these fraudulent registrations are linked to an entirely different situation and have nothing to do with Trump or his supporters.

~~~

So! That's the tea on what's happening here in PA. It's not as bad as it initially might sound - not to say it isn't bad, it's just not as bad. Feel free to ask questions, I'll do my best to answer with the information I have/the information I'm allowed to give.

And also, on a slightly lighter note, I think we should all collectively laugh at the idiots who paid a grand total of $43,000+ in cash for literally no good reason considering most of these challenges are just being or going to be thrown out. Lmao. I hope our counties' treasuries are enjoying those donations.

[herecomethatboi]

Dbd killers x gn!reader pt. 3

Part 3 of mc getting slammed against the wall lol

Guys I need more, feel free to send me any kind of request (nsfw abc, sfw abc, more parts for this silly series etc)you have and i'll gladly write them all :D (when my final exams are finally over hahaha)

Also, I was drunk when I wrote this and I trust drunk-me with writing. He's better at writing than sober-me, so here's an unedited "masterpiece"!

ENJOYYYY 🩷🩷

The Mastermind:

At the start of the match you saw the gray metal box right next to you and knew exactly who you were up against.

You weren't thrilled at all, Wesker or "Mastermind" -as the Entity called him- was such a try hard with his skillful dashes, that you sometimes questioned if he actually was just doing it since "it's better strategy" and not for the fact he enjoys doing stunts like that.

You sighed as you rummaged around the other normal chest you found -since you forgot to equip an item- and found a flashlight, which was perfect.

Then, you heard his little chuckle Wesker does, before he dashes and was swept up immedietly and thrown quite far away.

You groaned at the impact, but got up and ran, the killer close on your tail.

Just in time, you found a pallet and smacked it on top of his head, flashed the flashlight into his face -which usually angers him a lot- and then ran more.

This back and forth between you two continued, and three gens already popped, which you were glad about.

But, alas, your confidence came back to bite you in the ass.

Wesker caught you again, slammed you against the shack, and just kept you there, while he grinned.

"Caught you now." The killer was so so close, your lips almost touched.

He was amused in his own twisted way. An ordinary human made him run so much, but in the end, was caught easily.

"Gonna hook me now?" You squeked out, your throat was held tight with the uwuburos, making breathing difficult.

Awh, you're adorable. A little mouse, if you will. Wesker knew the Entity's rules, but eventually, he will have his fun with you.

Another gen popped.

"Oh no, i'm keeping you here." He said, gave you a little peck on the lips, just to confuse you even further. Nootherreasonwhatareyoutalkingabout.

Then stepped away, but the virus stayed, locking you against the wall. "Your performance was above average. Congratulations." He bowed. "You gained the tiniest respect from me."

He left with a smirk. You tried to claw away the black thing that just didn't seem budge or tear away. So, you gave up. You looked up into the fake dark sky, thinking...

What the Hell did you get into.

The Nightmare (Freddy Krueger):

The dream realm was a tricky thing to navigate in. You sometimes were weirded out by the bloodpools that scared the living shit out of you, when you accidently stepped into them.

Today, there were no generators. Which made you uneasy. What the heck is going on?

You walked into the main building and tried to listen.

Then, the laugh. That annoying, weird, freaky laugh Freddy made, then you were in the dream realm. You looked around, like a deer in headlight. Trying to listen in on the killer.

"What the Hell is going on?" You asked out loud. You turned around and there he was, leaning against a generator that was NOT there a second ago.

"A new game." He simply amswered with a grin. Freddy seemed too happy. "A little gift from the Entity to me."

"Okay, but wha-"

"Shhh shhh shhh let me finish."

"Sorry."

"Khm. So, easy," he leaned away from the gen and stepped toward you, "you find the fake generator, and you win a price!" His grin told you there was a twist.

"If I don't?"

"... you'll know." He said with a childish innocence. "Good luck!" Then he disappeared.

Great.

After God knows how long, you finally found the fake generator. Which made it bleed, just like in normal trials, and Freddy appeared.

"Now, that wasn't that difficult, was it?"

"What the Hell is your game, Freddy?"

"Making out with you."

"What??" Before your shock truely registered, you were up against the bloody generator with him kissing you roughly.

You tried to push against him, but there was no use, of course there wasn't, you mentally rolled your eyes.

So, you just let it happen.

The kiss wasn't... Bad. You sadly had to admit.

Freddy held you surprisingly gently by the waist and neck. But his kiss was bruising and he did bite your lower lip more than once.

You started to actually kiss back and held his waist in one hand, while the other was on his shoulder.

Why were you kissing back? What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't know, but it feels... Right?

Then, you woke up wide eyed. You blinked a thousand times and just stared above you. The roof of your tent cleared up from the blurry image it was. Then you just... Licked you lip, feeling it was dry and had a smoky taste.

WHAT. THE. HELL????

[ouiouimochi]

Imagine he discovers you write about him

pairing/s : soshiro hoshina x reader

genre: romance, secret adoration until it wasn't, mutual pining, a little crack

wc: approx 3k

warning: VERY long imagine/drabble (got carried away pls this has been in drafts and been written on for weeks ), swearing, suggestive content, unedited and grammatical mistakes, uhmn interchanged usage hoshina and soshiro

✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑❥๑✧๑

just imagine— IMAGINE you were the average tumblr hoshina writer (ahem ahem) but working under operations manager okonogi as her assistant.

imagine hoshina discovering Tumblr and searching members of the defense force. he gets curious and searches himself. he discovers fancams and amusing edits of himself. he also finds it entertaining with how feral his fans are.

then he randomly stumbles upon the soshiro hoshina x reader tag and curiously taps on it. the first thing that greeted him was a story written by you— but he didn't know it was even you. he reads in interest actually, finding that it resonated as to how he would've acted— like the writer understood what he was like. he also liked how well-structured the story was, being a fan of reading himself.

before he knows it, he finishes the story. he goes to the comment section and sees fans wildly saying their thoughts. some even arguing that he was ooc in the story.

with plenty of time to spare, he scrolls through the tag and finds plenty of other stories, even coming across multiple ones made by you. he notices how he related most to the fictional him in your stories than in other ones.

so he goes to your blog, finding that you had published a lot of stories about him, and reblogged multiple posts about him as well.

so with all the time he had to burn, he reads through each and every one. (yes even the mature ones lmao-). he actually flushes and gets embarrassed at how this writer was capable of grasping his character and also flustering him with the descriptively beautiful words they describe him with— like damn they're so creative and even poetic sometimes. heck, he found some references to other works of literature he'd read already. it was also scary with how accurate this writer was able to depict him when he read all of their posts.

he concluded the writer to be quite knowledgeable in the arts of literature, psychology, technology, weaponry, and combat with how it reflected well into the paragraphs. he theorizes that maybe that person was just a diehard fan, a staff member that leaked info(quite a problem when he thought about it), or an actual member of the defense force. he waves it off for now, noticing that he read everything in the blog during the entire night.

so he awaits their next post, and it arrives. he immediately removes the theory of the writer just being a diehard fan. his eyes would scan the work again and again, finding similarities and a parallelism to what happened a few days ago in the base. he gets very interested in hunting down this person now. but nonetheless he enjoys this unknown writer's works.

the second time around, he got alarmed at how the next fic was VERY accurate despite being hidden behind flowery words and phrases. he NEEDED to hunt down who this was. admittedly, you got too carried away with your recent work— so you put in some red herrings here and there to deter suspicions since you were too lazy to actually edit now. but chile, hoshina saw through that and wholly believes the writer is someone in the defense force— in the third division.

so at the operations room, doing normal monitoring— it was quite a slow day indeed. hoshina thinks deeply to himself. you, being the sweet and observant person you are, noticed how he'd been donning a serious expression as of recently. okonogi asks what got him thinking deep, and you pay attention.

"do you know Tumblr?" you freeze, but it went unnoticed.

okonogi would say she's heard of it but doesn't have an account with how busy she already was. she'd ask what about it.

"got curious and searched how people viewed people of the force before searching my name" —he remembers all the narumi love and slander and mentally chuckles before getting back to topic.

you were crossing your fingers, hoping he didn't come across a certain... tag— knowing well some of your works gained popularity and had a high chance of being the first thing that popped up when you searched the tag .

"... and I must say I found some... interestin' things..." you start sweating a bit, stomach twisting, feeling your heart drop. 'f u c k'

okonogi notices and asked if you were okay. you smiled a bit wobbly— obviously straining. you were stiff and unconsciously gripping the desk.

"... my stomach hurts, ma'am..." you'd manage to lie through your teeth, convincingly enough too— you weren't exactly lying since your stomach felt like a bowling ball had sunken into it.

"ya should have it checked out" hoshina says, a bit concerned since you were quite the sweet person. he didn't wanna see you suffering.

"yes sir, thank you." you quickly bow and leave the room, completely sweating bullets.

'i shouldn't have gotten too carried away, s h i t' you knew very well how sharp your vice captain was — having observed him beside okonogi. basically a vip seat to witness all of his glory.

you thought about how you should really lay low for a while. you head to the medbay to not further raise suspicions. you've been careful all these years with how much information you added into your stories, derailing some details to not allow speculations about your identity.

hoshina awaits for an update but there was none, so he resorts to rereading your works. that was how he was able to actually confirm that the writer was someone from the force. his mannerisms at work— the way he sometimes speaks in a Kansai dialect or how he calls his subordinates with endearments like dear or lil fledglings. even though those were no secret, it was an unusual knowledge for just a fan to know.

so narrows it down to someone knowing about the ins and outs of the defense force. he crossed out the possibility of those people in his platoons. so he narrowed it down to someone in the operations room— his mind immediately thought of you but he dismisses it since he can't imagine it being you.

'it can't be her'

you're treading on hella thin ice LMAO

now you're in the library, finishing up some reports. you were exhausted and got careless in believing that it was okay for you to scroll through your some of your socials.

so you opened THE tumblr acc(tbf it was ur only one)— mindlessly scrolling, liking, commenting, and reblogging. you disregarded your overloaded notif bell… also completely disregarding the fact that someone can sneak up on you

‘its way too late into the night anyways’

“oh ya’ got tumblr too, m’dear?”

his eyes quickly scanned your screen where you had a post of mina posing for an advertisement— hearted and reblogged. his eyes then get magnetized to the distracting notif bell that had 99+ pings. then it trailed to your profile picture— the whole world stops. (actually dunno how desktop tumblr looks like oop)

you were too slow to react as you watched the gears turned in his head just from a quick glance on the screen.

there are multiple ways this can go to... : the fleshed out, fanfic route… or the… nsfw route lmao

Long route

you hurriedly closed your laptop and excused yourself before bolting away to lock yourself up in your room. you screamed into a pillow, overthinking. you tried to convince yourself that he definitely doesn't know— no way he does. however, the negative thoughts consume you that you ended up crying.

you absolutely done fucked up

you filed for a sick leave the next day, okonogi approving but having a slight suspicion that something was wrong. even though it was normal for you to do so after an all-nighter of finishing reports.

you were just in your room sulking. ashamed to face the world. too ashamed to face hoshina.

you were not prepared to be punished in the not so kinky way.

on the other hand, hoshina was also in denial. there was no way someone as sweet, demure, and mindful as you would write things so....

he gets flustered at the thought. he really did enjoy your writing— but GOD, how was he supposed to react now that he learned that YOU wrote him in that way.

he wonders if you saw him the way you wrote him— the words you described him with, the words you portrayed him as... the way the "reader" feels in your works.

but the more he denied and wondered, the more his rational thoughts pushed itself through his mind. making sense of all the content you wrote so far— the parallels, the facts, the knowledge, and each detail— they all made sense. it also figures how he was able to relate to the fictional him. he felt more shy than violated— the way you wrote him, the way you took time to understand his whole character... made him feel so seen.

so hoshina goes to the operations room to hopefully talk to you. he asked okonogi of your whereabouts to which she answered that you took a sick leave . her suspicions raising that you taking a break had something to do with their vice captain.

so he goes to your room and knocks on it(can branch out further into fluff or nsfw routes— I'll stick with fluff for now)

he waits a while but he eventually hears shuffling from the other end of the door. he gets greeted with the sight of you wrapped in a blanket like a burrito with bloodshot eyes.

he's unsure if you cried or were actually sick or something... he has suspicions that it was the former but who was to say that it wasn't both (fun fact when one's feeling depressi mode, their immune system also gets brought down, making them more susceptible to illness).

you don't recognize him at first since you had your eyes squinted from the light. but you immediately knew it was him due to his easily distinguishable silhouette even if your eyes barely adjusted to the harsh light.

you gasp and immediately go to close the door. he quickly stops it, quite easily too. but you stay stubborn and put your whole weight onto the door, pleading for him to leave you alone.

"we need to talk"

your illness riddled brain immediately dreads that you're definitely gonna get fired— so you responded by pushing your door even more vigorously with a "no!"

soshiro would relent and let you close the door on him as you leaned on the other side, heaving. another knock on the door as he calls your name.

a bit of silence before a response from you.

"what?"

"'yer not in trouble"

silence passes again before the door clicks, slowly opening. you stare up at him like a puppy

"really?" you hopefully asked

his heart jumps and twinges. it m e l t s at the sight of you.

"yes, dearest"

although you've never noticed, he had always been calling you by a pet name different from the rest.

you let him in your room, trudging over your bed to entrust him in closing the door behind him. you were convinced to do so because of the rather soft expression he was directing at you— heck you were sure you were one of the few to notice his changes in expression. maybe that's one of the reasons why you were able to write him so scarily accurate.

you sat yourself on your bed as soshiro follows by seating himself beside you.

"I'm sick...." you try to convince him to sit on a chair but he doesn't move. you look away, feeling awkward as you start fiddling with your blanket

he was considerate enough to start the conversation at least. he calls you by name and endearment, causing you to flush. you thought how unfair it was that it has so much of an effect on you than you'd rather admit. but it also calmed you down

just as he was about to speak, you interrupted him with apologies, strings of words whizzed past explaining how it even happened... with apologies woven in-between sentences .

"...I understand you're mad—" he interrupted you this time

"'m not" that shuts you up

it was his turn to be embarrassed , hearing about it on your side— directly from you. he's also reminded of how he likes your stories.

"I like them... your stories" he starts

"they leave me not with feelings of being objectified... but rather flattery with the amount of adoration in your work..." he admits

"it was so scarily accurate that it made it easy for me to relate to the 'other' me"

silence, you think how that must've been creepy behavior on your part.

soshiro had a question to ask but hesitated when he saw how you looked at him like he wasn't real. as if your fictional character just popped out of your screen.

you were doing things to his heart

he asked if the way you wrote him was how you actually viewed him. not influenced by your readers.

just you and your thoughts alone.

"yes" of fucking course it was

it might've been the sickness getting to you, causing you to be honest. but God. you praised him, adored him, admired him— all of the sort

unabashedly telling those things straight to his face causing him to feel hot in the face.

"...but I knew how I had no chance with you, that's why I resorted to writing it all out— letting my imagination run wild just to satiate my feelings for you"

he gapes

"you like me?"

you widen your eyes, realizing you basically confessed to him. you completely flush and turn your head away from him after a stare down.

he laughs.

what the fuck

you flush redder thinking he was laughing at you and your feelings but you can't help but think your writing couldn't do his laugh justice— it was just... just so nice(?)

you simp— you actually crumpled at his laugh as he stops himself. he gently turns your body to face him, his hands settling on where your shoulders were under the blanket

you were actually pouting for some reason (you were slightly hurt he laughed at you, but u misunderstood)

as if you can't get any cuter in his eyes. his gaze locks itself with yours.

"'yer so adorable, (y/n)"

he explained how his heart feels so light when around you. that his heart constricts at your innocent gaze— really makes him wanna protect you and shield you away from anything.

even from a fortitude 10 kaiju if it so happens.

sure he was friendly around a lot of people, but he gets inexplicably softer in his treatment with you. he may call others dear and such, but he also calls you differently if you haven't noticed.

he admits how discovering you were the author of the fics he liked reading made him want to protect you even more. how he wanted to stop you from running away from that night he discovered and regretted not doing so.

a tear fell before becoming streams dripping down your cheeks.

soshiro hugged you, caressed your head and hair so carefully.

heck you didn't even know why you were crying— but to be fair you were physically and emotionally vulnerable due to your sickness.

hearing him say all these sweet things gave you relief, the floodgates basically opening on their own.

and here you are now, crying in soshiro's embrace as if it was a dream. as how you have always fantasized to be held by him.

"I like you too, dearest"

and so you laugh at yourself for the predicaments you've placed yourself in— you could've avoided it if you had the courage to say it straight to his face. you would've wanted to avoid the embarrassment brought by him discovering you were writing about him.

but ig this is fine too, you liked this. so you hugged him back so tight as if he'd disappear like smoke.

as if he wasn't real, as if this wasn't real.

you were glad when your worst thought did not come true as hoshina gently held your face in both of his hands while staring so lovingly in your eyes.

the end for fluff route

WARNING: suggestive content, you've been warned don't come after my ass

now for the nsfw route

I actually need to separate that (if I ever even write it lmao)

I cannot write smut to save my life... but butttt

nsfw route 1 where he managed to corner you before you got away the night of the discovery.

basically just like "oh? so ya' ve been imagining me doing all those things to ya? how bout a taste of the real thing~"

nsfw route 2 is sometime after you two start dating. he basically takes inspiration in how you wrote his smuts— with consent ofc, didn't want to hurt you. he's overall sweet about it but teases you if the real thing was better than you'd imagine.

if someone can take over the smut/nsfw part, pls PLEASE I give permission to continue on with the prompt. I'm looking at ahem ahem @justwinginglife, but ik how busy she is currently— absolutely no pressure. anyone's free to take over ^^