#you know you like the character when you start pausing their scenes and just staring at them

[sweet-treat]

silly frame

[utahimeow]

“kenma?”

“hmm?”

he doesn’t take his eyes off the tv screen where he shoots at enemies left and right, but his ears are all yours.

“who was your first kiss?”

it’s become a habit of yours to watch his fingers move on the controller, long and thin and dexterous, wondering how he manages to move them in such a swift manner that to you seems impossible.

“didn’t have one,” he says, blunt.

“ever?”

“ever.”

“how?” you ask, both surprised and not—though now that you think about it, through all the years you’ve known him, he probably would have told you if he had.

“all i did in middle and high school was play volleyball and game. didn’t have time to kiss anyone. also didn’t care about it,” he admits.

you suppose if he wasn’t with you or kuroo, he was at home, playing video games. but there was that little obsession of his with shoyo hinata… so you guess it wasn’t a crush after all.

there’s only an ounce of hesitation behind what you say next, because yes, kenma’s your best friend and this could change the trajectory of your entire relationship with him, but also it’s kenma. kenma who you’ve shared a bed and clothes with, kenma who’s seen you at rock bottom and who’s wiped your snot and tears away when you were at your lowest, kenma who you’re attached at the hip with.

“what if i was your first kiss?”

kenma doesn’t falter at your words, not even for a second as he plays on expertly, nonchalant as always.

“uhh, why?” he asks, and you’re triumphant. if it was a ‘ew, no, what the fuck?’ then that’s how you’d know you fucked up. but it’s not.

“it kinda makes sense for me to be your first. also, i just wanna know what it’s like to kiss you,” you admit, shrugging your shoulders.

the next few moments are full of nothing but controller sounds and the music from the video game on the tv. in the faint glow that radiates from the screen, you make out a tiny dusting of pink on kenma’s pale cheeks.

eventually he gulps. then, “can we drink first?”

your mouth falls open with an insulted gasp and you have half a mind to smack him over the head.

“if you think i’m ugly you can say that, kozume,” you pout, crossing your arms.

“it’s not because i think you’re ugly, dumbass.”

“then why do you need to be drunk to kiss me?!”

kenma is silent again. he doesn’t have to look at you to know you’re staring at him utterly indignantly.

“because i’m too scared to look you in the eyes right now.”

oh.

now you get it.

kenma kozume is such a virgin. and you want him so incredibly badly. in fact you have to restrain yourself from jumping into his lap and kissing him until he can’t think straight.

instead you slide off the couch and head towards his fridge, grab two bottles of asahi and the bottle opener from the utensil drawer before padding back over to the couch, sitting an inch or two closer to kenma than you were before.

you click one bottle open for him, then one for yourself, then without a hint of hesitation you take a confident swig until you’re near chugging the drink.

“chill,” kenma says, side-eyeing you after taking a swig from his own bottle. “don’t want you pulling a himeno on me.”

you let out a noise that’s half-scoff and half-laugh, smacking at his arm. “don’t joke about that. that scene was traumatic.”

two bottles of beer later, kenma’s in-game reflexes start to waver. he’s no longer as sharp as usual, though his tipsy state still trumps the skills of an average player. meanwhile, your head floats with the buzz of alcohol—well, it hovers.

“kenmaaa,” you whine, shaking his arm, when all of a sudden his character is shot to death and the screen pauses as if to deliberately rub his defeat in his face. you stifle a giggle while he runs his hands over his face, though you’re pretty sure it’s not because he lost.

“what?” he asks, but he fails at conveying any real irritation towards you. his voice is small, frail almost.

“i wanna kiss you,” you say. your fingers still cling to the fabric of his hoodie sleeve. kenma’s entire body burns from it. he’s so fucked.

“okay, fine,” he says, turning his body to finally face you and criss-crossing his legs on the couch. “this feels awkward though, how are we-”

and you’ve waited long enough for this, and the alcohol that buzzes through your system makes you throw all your morals out the window, and you’re grabbing him by fistfuls of his hoodie and dragging him towards you until your lips smash—literally—together, and finally he shuts up.

you’re not sure what overcomes you, but you’re kissing him like you’re hungry, not quite ravaging him, but years of yearning deep inside of you bubbles to the surface and fills you with desperation.

also, you’re tipsy.

it’s not long before you come back to your senses a little and remind yourself that this is just his first kiss. go easy on him, maybe?

you move away, slowly, as though trying not to startle him, to find a pair of golden feline eyes blinking back at you. they’re swimming with something unintelligible, something akin to… need? you think you must be seeing things. you’re tipsy, after all.

the silence that hangs over the pair of you is heavy—too heavy. it hurts your shoulders. you laugh so that it goes away, covering your face as though kenma’s timidness was contagious and has now spread to you.

eventually, when you peer back up at him, he’s grinning almost… triumphantly. despite the blush that covers his entire face, he looks victorious. his face replaces any words he could say, and he turns back to his game without a word.

you, however, struggle to keep your thoughts to yourself.

“can we do that more often?” you ask, leaning your frame against his, nuzzling your face into his warmth.

“yeah, we can.”

[halfvalid]

pretty in that

ABOUT

rating: general audiences

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k

description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!

tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro

author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!

You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 

Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 

“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 

“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 

“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 

Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 

“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 

“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 

“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 

“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 

“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 

“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 

“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 

“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 

“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 

“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 

“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 

“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 

“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 

“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.

“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 

Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 

“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 

Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 

“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 

“Not really what I’m into.” 

“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”

“Three swords, three earrings.” 

“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 

“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 

“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 

You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 

“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 

“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 

You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 

Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 

“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 

“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 

“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 

“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 

“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 

“You always look nice.” 

You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 

Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 

Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 

“Better how?” 

“You can probably run in it.” 

You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 

Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 

To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 

Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 

He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 

You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 

“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 

“Because of… clothing?” 

You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 

“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 

“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 

“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 

“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 

Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 

Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 

You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 

Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 

You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 

Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.

Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 

“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 

“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 

“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 

‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 

“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 

“Let me see.” 

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 

“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 

“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 

“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 

“Oh.” 

Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 

There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 

You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 

“You’re acting weird.” 

“Am not.” 

Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”

“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.

“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 

You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 

“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 

“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”

Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”

“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 

“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 

“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 

Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 

“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 

“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 

“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 

Your breath caught. 

“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 

“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 

You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 

Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 

“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 

“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 

“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 

“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 

“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.

You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 

“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 

© halfvalid 2023

[sorrowfulrosebud]

Katsuki fumbled as the heavy wooden door of your mansion was nearly slammed in his face, you being the cause. Your infuriated strides didn’t stop as you reached the kitchen.

Katsuki felt his eyes burn and bile rise in his throat as he tried desperately to reach you.

“Baby, please! It was one time, and I didn’t even kiss her-,” he rambles worriedly, taking a step aback as you turn around.

Your eyes held nothing but pure fire and pain.

“Oh my FUCKING GOD Katsuki! You didn’t kiss her?! Oh that’s just wonderful, I totally forgive you for going behind my FUCKING BACK and fucking other women! That makes everything okay now!” You cry? Laugh? You couldn’t tell anymore.

Katsuki winces at your tears, pearly streaks of his own staining his cheeks. He reaches for you, heart breaking when you flinch away from him.

“Baby-,” he starts.

“Don’t you fucking DARE call me that you disloyal bastard,” you sob.

“I gave you my EVERYTHING, you son of a bitch! The nights I spent slaving over that fucking stove so YOU wouldn’t go hungry! I broke my back cleaning this fucking house, I give up my social life so we can be together, I bust my fucking ass doing stuff in bed I don’t want to do, ALL FOR YOU! I gave you EVERYTHING! So don’t you fucking dare try and have some balls now.” You sob through gritted teeth.

Katsuki sinks to his knees, openly sobbing and grabbing your hands. You tried forcing them back, but his grip was relentless. He pressed tearful kisses to your hands, amplifying your pained sobs.

“(Y/N), please! It was the worst mistake of my entire fucking life, of OUR lives. It was an act of stupidity, and if I could go back in time I would kill past me for even looking at her. It’s YOU I love, not her. It’s you, it’s always been you,” he gasped for breath, looking up at you. You paused.

“AAAAAAAND CUT! That was a great take everyone, go grab some lunch and be back in an hour to continue the shoot,” the director shouts, hopping off his pedestal.

You wiped your tears off, cursing the added tear stick as you laughed.

“Jesus Christ, that was a rough scene. How are you, baby?” You look down at him. Your smile was warm, a complete contrast to the character in the series you were acting in. Katsuki made no move to wipe his tears.

He rose slowly, before wrapping his arms around you tightly. He sniffled as he held you as close as possible, kissing the side of your face.

“Baby, are you alright? It was just a scene!” You giggle, kissing him on the forehead.

“If I ever make you sad like that, I need you to kill me. I would rather die than make you cry the way you just did,” he sniffed, wiping his nose and holding your cheeks.

“Aw sweetie. I know you’d never cheat on me. I love you so, so, so much. I guess we just did too good a job acting,” you giggle. You pull him in closer for a kiss, wiping his tears and playing with his baby hairs.

“I love you so much. Never ever forget that,” he says firmly. You nod, before squeezing out of his grip and tapping his ass playfully.

“Of course angel, now let’s get lunch. Sato made enchiladas and I’m craving them so badly,” you kiss him again. Katsuki’s phone beeped, and he checked before grimacing slightly.

“I’ll be right there babe, Eijiro’s complaining about something,” he says, squeezing your sides and sending you off.

You’re so fucking right, baby. He thought. His chest bloomed in pain. Ochaco’s bunched up tits stared right back at him in picture form, taunting him.

I did too good of an acting job.

[kingofthewilderwest]

We need to start questioning the conflation of "maturity" with "increased stakes."

It's not to say higher stakes is always a bad choice. The first half of the How to Train Your Dragon book series has an endearingly whimsical, child-like feel. Hiccup's issues in the first half of book one are an obnoxious, cat-sized Toothless pooping in his helmet. The movie adaptation might have made the book and its counterpart distant cousins, but it was a thoughtful move to alter concepts to the appropriately theatrical: books and movies aren't the same medium. Hiccup riding alone on Toothless, exchanging fire blasts with a mountain-sized dragon, and losing his leg came off as well-done storytelling.

Hiccup staring at a prosthetic never happened in the book. He didn't lose his leg in his encounter with the Green Death. It was, as the creative powers behind the movie said, a result of the increased stakes. They didn't do this just to be more dramatic; they did it because it seemed that, based on how their narrative was going, this made sense. And this was a soft, quiet, shocking, breath-taking scene that instilled how good the movie handled its stakes. It gave us a reflective reaction to consequences that audiences might not have expected. This movie understood timing, pauses, quietness, narrative arc, poignance, reflection, emotion, love, and heart.

We know about the conflation of live action as "more mature" than animation. But a medium doesn't change maturity levels. We all know that's bogus, and many analyses have been given on that. Disney live actions add extraneous gunk, down to Gaston having a past relationship with war (so I've heard, from the people who actually watched the movie), and Disney giving us the sad scoop on why Belle's mom isn't around. Furthermore, lots of times, when I see the conversion of animation to live action, I notice creators feel a need to "raise the stakes" -- in line with the erroneous view of "giving maturity."

But "higher stakes" often means inserting action in place of mindful interaction. I feel today's Hollywood movies, in their treatment of "action," don't let movies pause and breathe anymore - ergo, they don't let us think. Isn't it more juvenile to actively avoid thought in favor of "hey look I made the building go boom"? There may be less "stakes" in introspection and mindful dialogue, but that's what gives it its maturity. That's how we went from Iron Man 1, with its grounded treatment of war and abuse, to the mindless high spectacle MCU is today.

Snappy one-liners or moments that clap at contemporary issues don't substitute for maturity. What can make a story mature is characters grappling with issues in a natural narrative through-line. A snappy one-liner is its own form of speedy spectacle.

We know about the conflation of "gore and sex" with "mature audiences." I believe they're right that graphic sex and gore is designed for adults. But that doesn't make it mature, and that doesn't make it the only way to target a medium for adults.

"Realisticness" isn't maturity. Per above regarding animation: realistic visuals are nothing. And if you think that putting more Debbie Downer material into your adaptation makes it more adult, you have to ask yourself why the themes that spoke to people's souls got muddled in its midst. We weren't mature enough to interact with the most subtle, nuanced, and impacting voice of the story. But hey! Look! There's more corpses, I guess!

It's not the visuals, it's not the events. It's not the "things." It's not the basic insertion of the external. Get past the superficial, get past the top layer of presentation. It's the mind. It's the ability to think. It's the ability to be still. It's the ability to be interested and attentive when something is slow or quotidian, because we can understand why that is important for narrative growth or arcs or themes or commentary on the human condition. It's the ability to know when and when not to include something. It's the ability to make resonant impact. It's the ability to be deep with your emotions or your themes. It's the ability to take what you have and grow it in a way by which we can derive something deeper.

Maturity is critical thought and well-conducted, appropriate responses to content of any kind.

As DeBlois tells Empire, the move to live-action brings a different emphasis to How To Train Your Dragon; a new heft, both physically and emotionally. “It’s so dialed-up in terms of stakes — having a fully credible, photo-real dragon stomping around trying to kill him,” the director says.

And maybe that DeBlois quote is taken out of context. Maybe there's more going on than that one sentence conveys. Maybe Empire is making their own erroneous assumptions. But "so dialed-up in terms of stakes," isn't, on its own, a good appeal. The animated movie already dialed things up - and knew when to include or not include something. A live-action that imitates the visuals of the animated movie exactly, as if no independent thought has been done to its unique adaptation, to the pros and cons of the medium, to what a independently-presented story needs and doesn't need... It has to make you wonder: how many conflations of "maturity" are going on?

How long are we going to keep making our own conflations?

[dumplingsfordays]

the phone call

pairing - Megumi x fem!reader

genre - smut

summary - you call Megumi one night in hopes of changing your relationship from being best friends to lovers and it ends very unexpectedly.

cw!: nsfw (sexual themes), mutual masturbation, pet names (sweetheart, baby), bffs to lovers, reader has female genitalia, swearing, timeskip to all characters 18+, one (1) mention of voyeurism + hair pulling + tummy bulge

note - back (sorta?) from my hiatus but I won't post content as frequently. sorry to all you beautiful people who submitted asks 😭😭 I'll make sure to do those fics asap b/c y'all are honestly lovely and overall really respectful and I appreciate it! thank you sm for being patient w/ little old me <33

art credit!

and as always, thank you for reading :))

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Quiet sighs escaped Megumi's lips in tandem with the soft breeze outside, whistling against the glass windowpanes. Moonlight drifted across his fair cheek like a silvery veil, making his pale skin glow slightly, and his long eyelashes, a trait that wasn't his favorite but one that almost every girl constantly pointed out with jealousy, fluttered when they met the edge of the light. And then, in the peaceful summer night-

Bzzt. Bzzt.

The raven-haired man sat up in his bed with sudden urgency, hand moving quickly to his phone on the nightstand and picking up.

"Hey, 'Mimi," your sleepy, half-awake voice came from the speaker. "Sorry to bother you but it's kinda important."

Upon hearing your voice, he relaxes - he lays back down and stares at the blank, white ceiling. "Yeah?"

"Uhm, I just wanted to talk to you about something..."

God, your sleep-laced voice was so gentle, sweet, alluring, even. He couldn't help but sneak a hand towards his abdomen to lay it on his stomach.

"Hey, 'Mimi, you there?" You ask all of a sudden.

"Oh, uh, yeah, I'm listening, don't worry."

You must be at your desk working, then, he thought, since you're up this late. Wait, no -- he heard the shuffling of bedsheets or something similar a moment ago. That was you, right? Were you also in bed? Did you also have the ghost of a smile dancing on your lips? Was your hand also laid down on your abdomen? Was it slowly creeping further and further down, until-

He shakes his head, rousing himself from his thoughts.

God, Megumi, what the hell are you thinking? They're your best friend, nobody thinks about their best friend getting off!

...Well, something about that scene was... arousing, almost, to him. The mere thought of you, laying on silk bedsheets and rubbing your clit to his voice, sent a shiver up his spine and he snaked his hand under his boxers. Well, guess he was doing this.

"So, um..." you continued, sighing, "I was thinking. I know that it's probably too late into the night to even be discussing this, but..."

"Yeah?"

He lets out a small grunt afterwards as his fingers come into contact with the sensitive skin of the tip of his semi-erect length.

"...are you okay, 'Mimi? Are you working out or something?"

"Ah, no, I'm just..."

Just, you know, casually touching myself to the sound of your voice. Nothing wrong with that at all. There's definitely nothing wrong with jacking off to your best friend's voice.

"Just, um. Moving my, uh..." His eyes glance around the room and lock onto the bedside table. "My table."

There's a small lilt to your voice as you laugh softly and clear your throat before speaking, and Megumi swears that he just got lightheaded from the rush of blood to his nether region.

"Okay... I was just thinking about, well... this. Our friendship."

He tries not to sound too strained and breathy when he replies, starting to slowly move his fist up and down his leaking cock. "What about it?"

"Well, I think that, um.. you're a really nice person. And I really like you. And recently, I was thinking about what it would be like if we, um..."

You pause, biting your lip. Should you really finish your sentence? What if he takes it the wrong way?

"You can say it. I won't judge, y/n."

"Thank you..." you laugh briefly and breathlessly, fidgeting with the skin on your torso. His words were innocent, but it was the tone in which he was speaking that made your thighs twitch slightly and your mouth dry up. Christ, Megumi always made you feel things that you knew you shouldn't be feeling towards a friend who probably only liked you as one. "I, well... I was thinking that it would be nice if we hung out at some point. Maybe, like... go out on a date, or something... I understand if you don't like me in that way, or if you're too sleepy to decide yet, but I just wanted to put that out there..."

His eyes widen a bit as he hears the word "date", and he subconsciously tightens his grip around himself, Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. So you were interested in him, too.

"I'd... I'd love to."

He forces down a quiet groan as he hears the pitch of your voice rise slightly in excitement. Unbeknownst to him, your hand slides down your lower abdomen, gliding across your upper thigh.

"R-really? You're not kidding or anything, right? I mean, like... please don't worry about making me feel good about myself or anything, just..."

You hear him laugh softly on the other end, which makes that spot between your legs throb even more intensely.

"Of course," Megumi replies, trying to sound as put-together as he can. "I won't lie to you about stuff like that."

Smiling, you sigh in relief and your hand comes into contact with your inner thigh. After a brief pause, he speaks up again, his voice a little deeper.

"So.. anything fun happen recently in your life? Any new books you've read, or interesting gossip you've heard?"

Your head tilts to the side as a scenario pops into your head at his words. Him, laying next to you, whispering into your ear as his fingers caress your--

"Nope..." you laugh, a little shakily due to the intrusive thought. "But there was this one thi--"

He makes a quiet noise of pleasure and you choke, your fingers finally touching your slick cunny and rubbing it gently.

"...M-Mimi, did you... are you...?"

"Christ, I'm sorry, I-- fuck. I'm sorry, y/n, I didn't-- God, I..." he sighs, regret clear in his tone as he apologizes. "You probably think I'm some creep or something now. Feel free to cancel the date, I don't deserve it anyway after all this."

You swallow and you feel your face redden in embarrassment before answering, whispering.

"Actually, I... I, um, I'm not mad. I-I'm doing the same."

"What?"

His reply is instantaneous, his voice a mix of nervousness, shock, surprise, with the undeniable tinge of arousal. You were going to be the death of him someday.

"I-I'm doing the same. I know it's weird, I..." you trail off, sighing. "I'm sorry too."

"Can we..."

Megumi's trembling all over now, his cock unfathomably hard and standing up at attention in his fist, which begins to pump up and down a little more rapidly. You can hear it very faintly from your phone and you practically gush at the sound.

"...can we, um... keep doing this? And talking? I just... I think that since you're interested in me and I in you, we can satisfy our urges, I guess..."

"Please," you shiver, voice getting softer and more desperate as he talks.

"Fu-uck..." he groans out, biting his lip and looking down at himself. He decides to finally remove his boxers and strokes himself under the blanket, leaning into his phone's microphone as he pants softly.

You, in your own bed, whimper at the expletive -- you knew his voice was attractive, but this? Him swearing, and in that rough yet pleading tone, too, made you unimaginably wet.

"Can you... can you describe it? Please?" you choke out, toes curling as your fingers press against your clit slightly.

You hear him groan at your words again before he replies.

"I-It's standing up real tall 'n warm, sweetheart... it's fucking throbbing, all for you... God, I just wanna bend you over and... shit... just shove my cock into your tight pussy..."

You moan quietly as you imagine the absolute filth of the scenario, how deep his thick cock'll reach inside you... he'll probably be thrusting into you so hard that people on the street will hear the rhythmic slaps of skin on skin from the window of your bedroom all the way up on the fifth floor. And, oh, God, what if he grabs your hair and pulls on it, twisting your back and pulling his face closer to yours to meet you in an intense kiss, teeth clacking and tongues intertwining in this passionate dance for control?

"You're gonna feel so good around me, baby... maybe clench as I play with your clit and press my hand to your stomach to feel that little dent of my cock... you're gonna feel so fucking warm and wet around me..." Megumi groans loudly as his hand does a particularly satisfying stroke around his length, smearing slightly sticky precum in his fist. "Christ, I can already imagine it... I'm so fucking close..."

"Me too," you cry out, rubbing tight circles around the sensitive skin and thighs quivering from the electrifying pleasure. "I'll feel so good, 'Mimi, so full..."

His fist travels up to his tip, continuing the up-and-down motion as he moans shakily. "y/n-- I-I'm gonna-- fuck, think I'm gonna come--"

You whimper in reply, toes curling and forearm flexing. At long last, that wave of heat crashes down on you both, him groaning shamelessly as thick cum spurts from the red tip and onto his fist, and you gasping for air, moaning as you reach your respective peaks. Your body trembles as you're thrown around mercilessly by your orgasm and he can tell very clearly by your voice -- it's high-pitched, desperate, and borderline wanton.

As you both calm down from your highs, the movements of your hands and arms gradually slowing down, you giggle breathlessly.

"This was... ah, certainly something..."

You hear his voice, deep and comforting as he chuckles, through your phone speaker.

"Indeed it was."

"...But we're still going on that date, right?"

Megumi laughs. "Obviously."

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 5: The Cabin: Day 1 (pt.2)

Summary: Soap being gone for so long has you extremely worried. When he finally shows, you have an exchange of words, and Soap learns that you are human after all.

Word Count: 4,000

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, angst, slight panic attack, Soap is still mean?, suggestive language, partial nudity 

A/N: I’m ahead in writing by two characters, but expect weekly updates! Let me know how you’re liking it so far! Also comment some possible scenes you might want to see, sometimes I include them! Enjoy ~

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 5

The cabin, which had no electricity, was dark now. The sun was setting over the lake, which was beautiful, but you didn't have it in you to enjoy it right now. All you could was pace in the kitchen, the only light and source of heat coming from the embers in the wood stove from when you made food.

Soap was gone. He'd been gone all day. You didn't know what time it was when he left, but the sun had been high in the sky and now it was setting. Your mine was racing.

What if he had gotten hurt and couldn't get back? What if a bear or something killed him? Were there even bears where you are? What if-

There was a groaning sound as the cabin door opened. You gazed snapped over to the door right as Soap was walking through it. He looked tired, but that was to be expected. You don't know where he went or what he did, but you know he hasn't eaten. Unless he ate some berries or something during his time in the woods, but you doubted it.

A mix of emotions hit you as you look at him. Anger at him for being gone for so long, relief that he was back, and conflicted feelings when you feel your eye start to burn with tears. Truth was, you did care about Soap to some extent, and him not coming back after an hour or two scared the hell out of you.

Despite your current state, and after everything that happened this morning, you wanted to keep your voice calm when speaking to him. You didn't want to yell, start another fight, or add more stress. However, the moment you open your mouth, anger burns in your chest like lit gasoline. Knowing you'll combust if you try to speak, you pause, hoping he'll speak first, and stay in your spot in the middle of the kitchen.

Soap's eyes were down as he walks in, not even acknowledging you. His lips were tightly pursed shut, and his body language was tense. He doesn't even spare you a single glance as he makes his way to the where you'd carefully placed all your food rations.

Taking a deep breath, you try to swallow the anger and address him.

"Where have you been?" Your voice shook the slightest bit, but you managed to keep it fairly steady.

Soap doesn't respond. You hear a faint annoyed sigh from him, but that's it. Your anger is boiling over at this point. You tried to ask nice, tried to be calm, but he was going to give you the silent treatment? Act like nothing had happened and like he hadn't made you worried sick for at least the last four hours?

"Soap, where the hell have you been?!" You were shouting now, and your raised voice finally makes Soap's gaze shift over to you. He looks you over a bit before rolling his eyes, returning to flipping through MREs packets to find a meal he wants.

"Don't fucking ignore me, Soap! You can't just leave and be gone for hours like that!"

"Fuck off, States." He grumbles, continuing his search for food. You stare at his back for a long moment, a bit taken back by his response. He really thought it was fine to go out into the woods for hours? To just leave you alone in the middle of the woods wondering if he was ok? Could he really not see how much distress he'd caused you by being gone? Or did he just not care?

You'd been worried about him.

Your chest tightens a bit, hands clenching into fists at your sides. You hated Soap with every fiber of your being, yet you worried when he was gone. You hated that you felt this way about him. You hated that he made you feel this way and now he was acting like it wasn't a big deal.

"Fuck off, States..."

"Don't tell me to fuck off! What gives you the right to leave like that? I didn't know if you were coming back or not." He just keeps ignoring you, his shoulders tense, and you snap. "John! Fucking turn around and answer me!"

That finally gets his attention. He looks back at you, jaw clenched tightly. "What have I told you about calling me that!?" He shouts at you, but you ignore him.

"Can you just listen to me!? I was worried about you, you stupid fucking idiot!" You shout at him, feeling your breath hitch a bit as a sob boils in your throat. You couldn't stop it. Tears started to run down your cheeks. You tried to brush them away, but they just kept coming.

"I sat here for hours! I didn't know where you were. I went outside, and I looked, and looked for you, and I couldn't find you. I thought you got hurt, or-or killed, or a bear got you, or you-you got lost. I didn't know if you were coming back, and I was scared that you weren't going to, and I didn't know what to do!"

You're sobbing by the end of your outburst, giving up on wiping tears away or keeping the sobs down. The stress of the day had gotten to you, and Soap leaving had been the final thing to make you break down. Now you just stood in front of this man that you hated, feeling scared that he'd died while he was gone, and sobbing uncontrollably into your hands.

Soap stood there frozen as he watches you. He'd never seen you cry before. No matter how bad the fights got, you never cried. Or at least not in front of him. He didn't really know what to do, but you were really upset. You're starting to hyperventilate, and he had to admit, he was getting a little worried.

"States, just calm down, lass."  He says in the most gentle voice he's ever used when talking to you. "Stop crying, you're fucking up your breathing." His voice is still gentle, and there's a tinge of worry behind his words as he stays frozen in place.

You try to stop, you really do, cause crying in front of Soap isn't something you like doing, but you can't stop. Now that the wall has been busted down, the water wasn't going to stop until the pressure had been released.

Soap finally moves when you can't seem to stop and turns to one of the shelves behind him to grab a cantina. He unscrews the top and takes your hands, wrapping them around the bottle and then brings it up to your lips. "Here, lass, drink some water. Take some deep breaths for me too, aye?" His hand pressed into your upper back, just steadily remaining there for support.

You do as he says, trying to take a few small sips and wiping at your eyes again. It helps a little, enough to settle you down a bit. You meet Soap's eyes, still sniffling and hiccuping softly. He still had his hand on your back, but he removes it to take the cantina back when you're done.

"I was worried about you..." You repeat, this time in more of a whisper as he puts the bottle back on the shelf.

Soap sighs softly and looks away, down towards the floor. You start to sniffle again, which makes him look at you once more. "Hey now, don't start that again."

"I'm not trying to. I can't help it. I was scared." You defend yourself, breath stuttering slightly.

"Look States, I... I'm sorry. Ok? I didn't mean to make you worry."

You're shocked. Absolutely in pure shock that this man is apologizing to you. He's never apologized to you for anything, and the thing is, he looks genuinely sorry. You stare at him for a long moment, making him uncomfortable.

"Don't look at me like that." He shifts nervously in place, a frown on his features.

You shake your head a bit, snapping yourself out of your state of shock. "Sorry, I've just never... I-I'm glad you're back." You rub your arm nervously. "Please don't.. please don't ever do something like that again."

"I won't." He says simply. "Stop all your crying now, aye? Go wash your face."

Normally you would have snapped at him for telling you what to do, but he's still talking to you softly. Like he's telling you to do something to make you feel better, not just to belittle you. So you nod and make to grab the flashlight to walk out to the pond. Before you get to the door though, he's calling out to you.

"Aye, States. Are you hungry? I'm going to make some food. You want some?"

You look back to him, surprised that he offered. You'd eaten a few hours ago, but you hardly had anything all day. Plus all that worrying you'd done had worked up quite an appetite. "Yeah... That'd be nice." You agree, getting a nod from him as he turns back to picking something from the cabinet.

"Alright. Go wash up. I'll get started." He says, his back to you now. You hesitate a moment more before stepping outside into the cool air.

It's quiet outside, aside from some frogs and an owl. The fresh air feels nice and helps to settle any remaining stress you had. You hear Soap inside, putting more wood onto the fire to get the oven going. It didn't seem real what just happened. You weren't quite sure what to make of any of it.

Sighing softly, trying to push everything that happened today behind you for now, you click on the flashlight and head towards the water. The sun has gone down and the moon is casting a soft light on the water's surface. Once you reach the edge, you scoop some water into your hands and splash it over your face, letting the icy water soothe your puffy cheeks. It feels nice despite the bite it has from the cold. It's just what you need.

Realizing you don't have a towel or anything to dry your face with, you end up just gently patting your face dry with your shirt. You'd be changing for bed soon anyway. You were regretting, however, packing your shorts and an oversized teeshirt to wear as pajamas. They weren't going to be very warm, and despite what you hoped was a new development in your relationship with Soap, you still were not fond of him seeing you in something like that.

The thought of your pajamas made you remember your lack of a bedroll. Maybe you should apologize to Soap for getting so upset with him earlier. It was technically your responsibility to keep track of it, and you doubted Soap would purposely do something like that to you. He was mean, but you didn't think he was that mean. Plus he had just apologized to you. Maybe you should return the favor. Extend the olive branch.

That was going to be hard though...

You sigh softly and get up, heading back into the cabin. Soap managed to get the fire going and now had a pot of what looked to be beans on the stovetop. He'd also laid out two pieces of bread on your plates. You stayed by the door, trying to warm your hands a bit as you watched him stir the pot. After a few seconds, he breaks the silence.

"Feeling better?" He asks, eyes focused on the food he was preparing.

"Yeah." You answer, yelling at yourself to just get the apology out. It was stuck though. Apologizes weren't really your strong suit. Plus making them to someone you had a bad rivalry with made it all that much harder. Instead, you find yourself clearing your throat and changing the topic.

"Uh... So I was thinking maybe we should make a few rules. For both of us to follow." You watch him for his reaction, not sure what you were going to get.

Soap surprisingly nods. "Sure. What were you thinking?" He asks, still not looking at you.

"Well... Maybe rule one should be that we can't go off into the woods alone for more than an hour? Just for safety." You start, which is met with silence. "If we need to go somewhere to cool down, maybe we go to the lake. Or somewhere else close by. I just don't want to have to go looking for you if I need you."

"Sure." Soap finally answers. "I can do that. Anything else?"

You think for a moment, not fully prepared to come up with all the rules by yourself at that very second. "Maybe just small things. Like we can alternate who cooks every night. Let me know before you go bathe. Don't leave dirty clothes or food lying around. Stuff like that." You shrug, watching as steam begins to rise off the pot of beans.

Soap stops stirring them and bangs the spoon on the side of the pan a few times. "That sounds reasonable." He agrees, surprising you by how accepting of this he was. "Come get what you want. I'll eat the rest." He tells you, standing out of the way so you can scoop the beans onto your plate.

You pick up your plate that he'd laid out for you and get your spoon, looking at him before looking down at the beans in the pot. You must have hesitated too long because he's rolling his eyes at you a moment later.

"Come on, I didn't poison them or anything." He grumbles, bits of the old Soap coming back.

"Well, I wasn't thinking that until you said something." You attempt to joke, though you aren't sure if Soap thought it was funny or not. He let out a huff, which might have been a laugh, but you're not sure.

"Just get your beans. I'm starving." He mumbles.

"Yes, sir." You say, getting reminded that he hadn't eaten all day. You didn't want a hangry Soap on your hands.

As you scoop up what you wanted, a very small portion so that he can have more, you hear him actually laugh. It's not a full belly laugh, but he does let out a small, single, chuckle.

"Now that's something I could get used to you saying." He mutters, making you roll your eyes this time. Though for once you aren't really annoyed.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." You tell him, setting your plate on the small table in the kitchen and sitting down.

You wait as he dumps the rest out onto his plate. You fully plan on sitting and eating with him. Sure, it still felt like you were walking on eggshells a bit around him, but this was by far the most civil you'd ever been with him. Once he's done scooping everything out onto his plate though, he's heading towards the bedroom without another word.

"Where are you eating?" You ask him when he walks past the available chair.

"On my cot." He answers, pushing the door open and shutting it behind him without another word.

You feel stupid now thinking that Soap was going to sit and eat with you. You don't know why you'd been expecting him to, but, now that he wasn't, it hurt a little bit...

Things probably hadn't actually changed. He was just being a littler nicer because he saw you cry. You stare down at your food, feeling a lot less hungry now, but you eat anyway. No point in wasting it.

Once your plate had been cleaned off the best you could, you set it on one of the shelves, planning on cleaning it tomorrow morning. You then make your way to the bedroom door and knock softly. You don't get a response, and if you listen really closely, you can hear gentle snores.

Opening the door carefully, you see that Soap had fallen asleep. His plate was on the floor next to his cot, scrapped clean. So much for your rule of keeping a tidy space. But you'd let it pass this time since it had been a long day.

Running a hand over your face, you step inside and pick his plate up, carrying it out to the kitchen. You set it alongside yours on the shelf and then you go back to the bedroom to grab your pajamas. You opted to change in the kitchen, just in case Soap woke up, and did so in record time. He was still asleep though when you came back in. However, the second you sat on your cot, making it squeak loudly, he woke up.

"Ah, that damned bed of yours." He grumbles, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"You were the one who stuck me with this bed." You remind him, making him grumble as he sat up. He places his feet on the floor, looking to the ground.

"Where's my-" he starts, but you already know what he's going to ask about.

"I already put it on the shelf for tomorrow." You tell him.

"Oh. Alright then." He mutters, standing up. He starts to take his shirt off, which had you blushing and raising your brows at him. Then he's taking his pants off, which instantly makes you cover your eyes.

"Oh my God! Don't change in here! I don't want to see you naked!" You yell at him, which has him rolling his eyes at you.

"Oh haud yer wheesht! I'm not getting naked! I sleep in my underwear."

You can hear the sound of his pants being pulled down, and you press your hands more firmly against your eyes. "I don't want to see you in your underwear either!"

"Well I didn't think we'd be sharing a room! I didn't pack pajamas!" He exclaims. "Besides, you're not even wearing pants!"

That made you uncover your eyes, your cheeks burning. "I'm wearing shorts!" You pull your shirt up enough for him to see the shorts you had underneath, and also get an eyeful of Soap in nothing but his underwear. He's in army green boxer briefs, which made his ass and what he was packing in the front look... Not too bad.

"That's practically underwear you're wearing." He claims. "Just think of these as shorts!" He balls his clothes up and tosses them into the suitcase with his clean and still unpacked clothes.

"Those are not shorts! I can see every..."

You trail off, not really wanting to admit that you can see the outline of his dick. You don’t want him to know that you looked. In your defense, it was pretty prominent and obvious feature. You know he isn't even... worked up... yet you can still clearly see it. You didn’t have to stare directly at it to see it.

"Just fucking get into your bed." You say instead, but by the look on Soap's face, he knew exactly what you were going to say.

"No, no, go on. Out with it." He crosses his arms over his chest and stares down at you expectantly.

"Soap, I swear!" You're looking straight ahead, holding up your hand to shield your peripheral vision from him.

"If you like something you see, you can just tell me." He continues to egg you on, making you all the more frustrated with him.

"I'm gonna punch you in the thing I see if you don't get it over to your cot!" You threaten, making him finally leave you alone. He holds his hands up in mock surrender as he goes to his cot.

"Alright fine. Just do me a favor and don't squeak that damn cot of yours all night." He grumbles, getting onto his cot and into his sleeping roll. He rolls onto his side, back facing you.

You finally look over at him once he's laying down and then settle onto your own cot. You lay down on your back, staring up the ceiling and feeling thankful for the chilly air as it cools down your reddened cheeks.

Very quickly though, despite the wood furnace next to you, your arms and legs start to get cold. You tuck up into a ball, cot squeaking while you move, but it's not a position you were going to be able to maintain all night. After only five minutes your legs were cramping up, and you wanted to stretch out again, which caused more obnoxious squeaking.

You keep shifting like this, trying to find the best position to keep yourself warm. It doesn't take long for Soap to let out an annoyed groan.

"States, I swear." He grumbles.

"Sorry, I'm cold." You grumble right back, tucking your legs back up again.

It's silent for a little bit as you try to keep from moving around. You're shivering just slightly, but it wasn't a violent shiver by any means. Sleep was going to be difficult though. You sigh softly, your exhale a little shaky.

"Fucking hell." You hear Soap curse, followed by the sounds of him rustling around.

You'd been lying with your back to him, so you look over your shoulder as he gets up. It was hard to see exactly what he was doing. Despite his bed only being a few feet away from yours, it was dark over in his little corner, and his back was to you. The distinct sound of him unzipping his sleeping roll can be heard though.

"Here." He says after a moment and throws something over at you.

You jump slightly, sitting up to grab at whatever he's just thrown. Feeling it over, you quickly realized it was the thermal liner of his sleeping roll. It wasn't as comfortable as a blanket would be, but it was meant to hold in heat. It would keep you warm.

You look over to Soap, watching him flop back down onto his cot, his back to you once more. You're too stunned to move at first. You never expected Soap to do something so... nice. Especially for you.

"Thanks.." You mutter, getting up slowly to better lay out the lining on your bed.

"If it makes you stop squeaking that damn bed." He grumbles back.

You weren't going to argue with him. Whether he was only giving it to you to keep you from moving around or if he really felt bad you were cold, you didn't care. You were just happy to have some warmth.

The inside of the liner is warm already due to Soap having used it right before. It even sort of smells like him a little bit but, surprisingly, not in a bad way. It smells faintly like cologne, but you can't pick out the specific fragrances.

You lay on your side, facing him this time. The apology you wanted to give him earlier is on the tip of your tongue. It was the least you could do since he'd give you the warmest part of his sleeping roll.

"Hey, Soap?" You call out softly, biting the inside of your cheek as you wait for a confirmation he was listening. He grunts a bit. "I... I'm sorry for what happened earlier." Soap doesn't say anything, and you're not sure what he's thinking. It begins to feel awkward after a moment, so you continue, feeling the need to fill the silence. "...I shouldn't have yelled at you like I did."

"It's fine, States. Just go to bed." He mumbles, making you bite the inside of your cheek again.

"Ok." You mumble back. "Goodnight."

"Night, States."

Silence falls over the room then, and you close your eyes. Soap's liner, while not the most comfortable thing, keeps you warm. The day had been long and stressful, and you weren't sure how things would be tomorrow. You just hoped the days would go by quick.

One day down... six to go...

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Mission Control 8

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Captain Hydra

Summary: a man marches into your life on a mission

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The bus is speeding. Zigzagging dangerously through the city streets. You slide across the seats, clinging on for dear life as another veer sends you slamming against the window. Another wild turn and you fly in the other direction. 

This time, you hit another wall. Something just as hard and unmoving but different. The wall wraps you up around neck and waist. The man lifts you and carries you into the next scene. A zipping highway with wind whipping around your face. You cover your ears and turn as a flash limns to your left. You turn to face down the headlights and scream. 

You crash into the dirt of the forest. The hum of crickets and sway of trees tickles your brain. He stands above you, staring down at you, not speaking, just watching. You don’t know what he wants. Why doesn’t he just tell you what he wants? 

You wake with a start at the sharp tweak of your nipple. You’re flat on your back as his teeth squish your flesh and you yipe. You grab his golden hair and try to push his hand away. Your thighs crush around his large calloused hand, his fingers pressed roughly to your cunt. 

The front of the night gown is pulled open below your tits and the bottom rumpled to your stomach. His is rigid and unyielding, as he was in your dreams, yet the last time you saw him, he’d been less than. 

He doesn’t flinch as you writhe and whine against his unbidden touched. He bends his fingers, sinking them past your entrance as he bites down on the tender flesh of your chest. He snarls around you, like an animal.  

“Please,” you whimper and press against his crown, “it hurts.” 

He growls louder and nibbles until you squeak and squeal. You dig your heels into the bed and arch your back. He pushes into you until the heel of his hand is against you. Your thighs clamp around him until the flesh hurts from the tension. 

He rams his fingers in and out. You exclaim and reach past him, grasping for his arm. He snaps his teeth down and you spasm, throwing your hands up. You lay flat, terrified, and let him keep going. 

He shoves his fingers in to their limit, jamming them into you until your pelvis aches. It’s as if each thrust is an effort to get deeper, to break the resistance of your body. You ball your fists as tears overflow and you squeeze your eyes shut. 

In, out, in out. Each move aches. His other hand crawls up the bed and locks around your throat. He lifts himself over you. Your eyes snap open as he glares down at you. He keeps you pinned as he rocks his hand harder and harder. 

You croak and whine as he watches you. His brows furrow and he stops as his fingers bottom out once more. His eyes search yours. He slowly pulls back. You shudder and he lingers along your entrance. He dips back in, just as meanly as before. 

You yipe and slap his wrist. You latch on and gnash your teeth, “it hurts.” 

His eyes narrow and he tilts his head. He shifts and looks down at his hand. He rears back again and pauses before he pokes back inside. This time slower but still painfully. You bite your lip, 

“Please,” you trail your hand up his arm, feeling the hard muscle, “please,” you rub his shoulder. “I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” 

He slips back to his lower knuckles and delves in, gentler, as gently as it seems he can. The tension in his muscles is immoveable. He’s wrought through to the core. 

He does it again. His gaze stays on his hand as he watches himself. He slips his hand away from your throat and plants it on the bed. He sits up, focusing between your legs as he moves his fingers in and out.  

Despite your fear, you slicken around him. The roughened skin along the heel of his hand steadily brushes your clit as he tilts in and out. You blow out between your lips and groan. You shouldn’t like it, it still burns, but not so bad. Your body does not abide the fear that clouds in your head. 

Your pelvis knots up around his intrusion and your stomach clutches. You puff out as you push your head down into the flat pillow. You stretch your arm down the bed and dig your nails into the bed. You feel the clustering of nerves, pinging off each other as the tempo of his he trusts changes. 

He presses his hand flat on your pelvis as he growls. You hear your body clinging to him, sopping as he pushes in and out. You close your eyes again. Shame sears through you, scalding your flesh and surging in your veins. You turn your head and bite down until your jaw throbs. 

He hums, several times, in time with your hitching breaths. Curious drones as he works his hand against you. He moves his hand to grip the bunched fabric of the nightgown. Your thighs tingle and the sudden burst of energy has you spasming and squirming. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” the pathetic mewls trickle from you. 

You keen and draw out the strained notes. He mimics them with the motion of his hand until finally you are quiet and he is still. You quiver and open your eyes. He drags his hand from your cunt and holds it up, examining the slickness smeared across his palm and shining around his fingers. 

He holds it up for you to see. Your lashes flutter and you touch your cheeks in embarrassment. He brings his hand close as he considers it then licks away the sheen on his palm. You cringe but don’t move or make a noise. You’re too terrified. How much else will he do to you? 

He laps clean his fingers and knuckles. Almost mechanically. Thoroughly. When he’s done, he turns and lowers himself stiffly to his back. You see the bob of his own arousal at the edge of your vision. 

He feels between your and grabs your hand. You tremble as he lifts your arm and pulls it across him. He guides your fingers to his twitching erection. He lets out a whimper. Your stomach plucks as you close your grip around him. 

You don’t dare deny him. 

[justarandombrit]

Believe it or not, I did in fact go to see Spies Are Forever (you'd never know from looking at my blog), and, as usual, I wrote down some notes. My memory is shit so I'll probably update this with additions when I remember more, but for now, below the cut...

Act 1:

. They played Show Stoppin' Number and so many people were singing along

. It started midway through them playing The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals

. Joey: “Sorry to anyone who thought they were seeing Wizard Of Oz. Although, this show has many friends of Dorothy”

. Emily Proudlock has a beautiful voice. The microphone was struggling a little at the start, though lmao

. THEY GOT AN ACTUAL BANANA PEEL

. Oliver Ormson (Owen) called Curt “Mega” which in the show he doesn't do until he becomes the DMA (not a criticism, just interesting)

. Owen said the “A man needs his privacy”(?) line, so Owen and Barb have officially interacted now

. I love Brian's Informant. His French accent was so over the top

. Brian stared at Clark when he said “The Deadliest Man Alive” until Clark played the keyboard sting. And then whenever anyone else said it throughout the show, he played it.

. They left in a huge awkward silence when the DMA was waiting for Sergio and it was so funny

. Sergio sounded so awkward when he said “You guys can relate, right?”

. Joey fucking SCREAMED “PLEASE!” during Sergio's little Somebody's Gotta Do It reprise

. “The Deadliest Man Alive disarms Mega and escapes”

“He does?”

. Dean John Wilson walked back on stage after his exit, said “The Deadliest Man” and left again

. Okay, so Claire M. Hall is a perfect Cynthia

. You guys are gonna crucify me for this, but I actually liked her Eyes On The Prize I better than Lauren's…

. Joey was making the weirdest faces during Eyes On The Prize II

. Curt cocked his head at Hallucination!Owen and Owen shrugged and mouthed “I don't know” at him

. I LOVE EMILY OOI’S BARB!!!!!! She did a cute little dance during “It's actually a gun!”

. Obioma (Curt) pretending his beard had been shaved lmao

. No Richard Big appearance sadly

. Curt was even more oblivious about Tatiana hitting on him than in the actual show

. The Nazi ensemble stuck around throughout the whole scene and kept gasping when Curt called them villains

. THEY MADE NOT SO BAD… EVEN MORE NOT SO BAD

. “SAY WE GOT A BIT LOST, WITH THE WHOLE HOLO–” *looks at ensemble* “ehh…”

. “WE DID ALL WE COULD DO TO poopoo THE JEW”

. They didn't make the audience chant, which was… probably for the best

. Von Nazi yelled “I'm a big boy! A BIG BOY” at Mega then walked off without using his knees

. Curt groaned and hung his head when the DMA said “I'm gonna torture the living shite outta you”

. Actually gasped at the overlapping “Doesn't even matter if I killed my best friend” and “To show you the horror of staying alive”, even though I knew it was coming

. The homoeroticism 🤌🤌🤌🤌

Act 2:

. I WAS ON THE SAME ROW AS A.J. FUCKING HOLMES AND DIDN'T NOTICE UNTIL JOEY SHOUTED HIM OUT

. Joey shouted out loads of cosplayers still in character as Vanger Borschtit

. Everyone was so excited about Vanger Borschtit, and Joey made everyone cheer for an acceptable amount of time “for his reel”

. The new We Love the Prince lyrics really are so much better (also what did he do to the Pope?!?!?)

. Vanger Borschtit was DISTRAUGHT when the prince died

. Obioma stared so blankly into the audience at “Or whatever it is you boys do in the rumpus room”

. I think out of all of the new cast members, Evelyn Hoskins (Tatiana) sounded the most like the original actor (she was also so cool)

. Obioma actually sung the little “Very good place to start” Sound Of Music reference and Tatiana looked so annoyed

. Tatiana was SO into Doing This up until the kiss (which wasn't a real kiss lmao)

. MRS MEGAAAAAAAAAA

. The lights flashed rainbow after the line “So we're just… friends?”

. Curt looked straight at Barb when he said “Some of us may die”

. Curt paused before he drank the shot, and then started drinking a load and everyone stared at him, really concerned. It was a really neat piece of acting

. Von Nazi kept stressing how he had no idea how Feurgin was killed

. The Informant looked so concerned at the start of NSB reprise, then actually kinda got into it

. Jak Malone (Von Nazi) made his death SO DRAMATIC. He fell to the ground and went “Ow, my back! Ow, my front! Ow, my…self” and then got up and bowed

. Owen stood behind the DMA and they just spun around while Joey narrated

. Joey: “THE DEADLIEST MAN ALIVE FALLS DOWN THROUGH A HIDDEN TRAP DOOR IN THE STAGE–”

. ONE STEP AHEAD JSTSKTKEYYKDKFYFUHDYSWWGDJFKGKFDHSGSTSFJKGKGKGJDSYSYIFKF I'M NOT OKAY

Dean: *Crouch-walks away*

. Owen stared directly at Curt (and addressed him instead of Tatiana) when he said “Don't slip up” and loads of people “Ooh”ed

. Owen seemed actually on the verge of tears in Spies Are Forever (Reprise)

. He also fully yelled “You're a caveman!”

. They changed the line “Taking your advice” to “Moving on”, just like Curt (I think it was Curt? Edit: IT WAS JOEY) wanted in the livestream

. The speech before Spy Again (Reprise) was so good. Everyone came out on stage and it was all just incredible

. SPIES ARE FOREVER, IT'S A MUSICAAAAAAAAALLLLLL……. IT'S ABOUT SPIES!

[planetnini]

ONE — MAYBE I COULD FIX HIM ?

with the week you're having, you don't have it in you anymore to deal with anymore bullshit and take it out on your asshole of a roommate gojo satoru (3.8k words)

content. cheating (we don’t do the cheating), named ex: hiroto, shoko is an extremely good judge of character, geto suguru the man that you are, gojo is a bit of an asshole, reader goes off at the end (rightfully so) <33

Whoever said that if you do what you love, you'll never work another day in your life was a liar. Sure it was a well-meaning sentiment and while it filled your soul with some semblance of hope on some days, it was the main reason you were struggling with your degree and drowning in work. 

So much for dreaming big…

“What’s got your panties in a twist?” the girl questioned. The smoke from her cigarette created an odour that permeated the air as you let out a sigh, leaning back on the wall.

“That shit’s gonna kill you one day.” you muttered moving your head toward the cigarette in between her fingers as you turned your attention to the scene in front of you, waiting for her to finish.

“Make sure I have a nice funeral.” she chuckled before puffing out a cloud of smoke as she pulled the cigarette away from her mouth. When you didn't laugh at her comment, she just stared at you. Your eyes were closed and breathing a little jagged as she observed. Did you think she wouldn't notice?

Ieriri does not reveal much about herself, but everyone that was friends with her knew she was deathly loyal and cared for her friends in a unique way. She put the stick up to her mouth inhaling as she spoke, "You look like shit.” 

“You know how my afternoon lectures are.” she sighed.

She put out her cigarette in the ashtray bin and tucked her hands into her pocket. She was not at all convinced by your story. 

“Hold it Missy.” she demanded and of course your feet stopped in its tracks before her, “Tell me what’s wrong now.”

“I’ve been hearing things about Hiroto.”

You don’t think you’ve met someone that hated Hiroto more than your best friend herself. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as you mentioned your boyfriend or as she called him ‘he-who-must-not-be-named’. She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed, her lips pulling into a pout. She always had a thing for the dramatics.

"What else is new? Hiroto is a scumbag."

"Ieiri!" you scolded, frowning at her choice of words. 

She scoffed with a shrug before she linked your arms in hers and started walking toward the cafe. You had no idea what she had against Hiroto. He was the most popular guy in your university, and he was the one everyone wanted to be with, but it came as a surprise when he chose you. He had eyes for you, and you couldn't understand why anyone would want you of all people so he asked you out one day and you didn't have the heart to say no. Even if you had liked him at the time, which you didn’t, you still couldn't have said no, it would have been an opportunity wasted. He wasn’t the nicest guy but you would say he treated you well so you defended him every time.

“I still don't understand what you see in him.”

You smiled faintly, “As much as you doubt him, he really does care about me."

You could tell that Ieiri didn’t approve. She never made her opinion on him a secret, and you don’t expect her to start now. 

She rolled her eyes again and sighed, "Yeah, well you should really find someone better, like a certain someone."

It was your turn to roll your eyes at the thought of who she was referring to: a certain white haired roommate of yours. 

“I hope you’re not trying to suggest who I think you are?” you stated as she gave you a sly smirk before shrugging.

“Have things with Satoru been better?”

You paused, contemplating on how to respond as you both walked into the cafe. You turned your attention to the menu as you stood in line. Your eyes scanned over the pamphlet you received when you walked in as you also looked at the assortment of baked goods and pastries. 

"I still can't quite figure him out." you muttered as you stared at some of the menu items.

Her curiosity was piqued as you said this, already knowing what she would order as she stared at you now. "What's he up to now?" she asked.

When you got to university, you opted to follow your dreams and your heart and while you looked forward to finishing your degree, reaching your dreams and goals was expensive, which was something you had known as a teen. It explained why you had to get a job that definitely does not pay minimum wage and why you had to room with Satoru Gojo, as per Ieiri’s request, just to be able to do what you love.

At first, you had thanked Ieiri for convincing the prestigious Gojo Satoru to be your roommate at the start but when he moved in, you were less than grateful.

Gojo Satoru was a scion of a wealthy and successful family making him the epitome of privilege: rich, handsome, and effortlessly at the top of his class without ever needing to study– he pretty much had everything handed to him on a silver platter. 

The first few months were turbulent, to say the least. Gojo acted like a spoiled prince, which was not surprising, always expecting things to be done for him and showing little regard for your personal space or boundaries. Arguments were frequent and inevitable but you shouldn't be complaining, he was the one paying most of the rent. 

Entitlement dripped from his every pore but then something shifted. With you trying to assert your own space and independence against his behaviour and actions, it was as though he had picked up on your growing frustration and decided to turn over a new leaf or whatever. 

It started with small gestures- he'd clean up after himself, occasionally ask if you needed anything from the store, and even helped out with chores around the apartment. These moments, though rare, caught you off guard. You couldn't help but wonder if it was all an act, a facade he put on simply because you were sharing a living space. Deep down, you were convinced that the 'nice' Gojo was just a pretence to keep the peace.

Yet, there were times when you couldn't ignore the fact that he seemed genuinely concerned about you, though these moments were fleeting– hidden beneath layers of sarcasm and his usual arrogance.

“He is just utterly unpredictable." you sighed as you put a hand over your eyes in frustration.

"Sounds like Satoru." she chuckled.

“I don’t know, it just feels like he’s nice to me because I’m friends with you.”

Shoko raised an eyebrow, a hint of concern in her eyes. "Are you saying he's being fake around you because of our friendship?"

"Yeah, sometimes it feels that way. Like he's just putting on a show."

Shoko's lips pulled into a small frown, her eyebrows knitting together, "That doesn't sound like him at all. Maybe he's just trying to be friends with you."

You had been so focused on the topic at hand, you hadn't realised you were at the front of the line.

You shrugged, "It's probably nothing.”

"Stop thinking about Satoru, you’re holding up the line." she scoffed as she smiled at the cashier.

You gave the worker an apologetic smile before turning to the person behind you, "Sorry, about that."

After ordering your favourite drink and some pastries, you approached a small table to sit. “I don’t know. I mean I guess Gojo and I are friends but still, I’m a bit suspicious.”

“I don’t think he would do something like that for my sake.”

"It just feels like you're trying to get him on my good side, I wonder why that is." you hummed with a tilt of your head, raising your brows at her.

"I think my best friend just deserves someone better." she shrugged with a pout.

"And Gojo is 'someone better'?" you scoffed.

Her hesitance was telling and you could see the gears shifting in her head, "That's like asking if apple juice is better than orange juice."

You rolled your eyes at her and looked around the café. The coffee beans alongside the soft humming of the machine, muffled speaking, jazz that played through the speakers really defined the atmosphere. Perhaps this place would become a regular study spot if they nailed just how you liked your drinks. 

“Thank you for coming with me by the way.”

“No problem.”

You had a small smile on your lips as Ieiri decided to fold the receipt she had in her hand into origami, your eyes leisurely scanned over the cafe's charming layout but then, as fate would have it, your heart suddenly felt like it had been gripped by an icy hand, causing it to skip a beat.

The cafe that once felt spacious now seemed to shrink around you, constricting your senses. Your gaze, once idly roaming the room, had fixated on an all-too-familiar figure.

There, amidst the warm, cosy ambiance of the cafe, sat Hiroto. He was not alone. He was sitting across from another girl, their faces close. A rare smile was etched across his features, who was she to be able to make him look at her like that? He had never looked at you that way… 

Maybe it was a friend?

Ieiri, perceptive as ever, noticed the abrupt change in your expression. Her eyes followed your gaze instinctively, and when she locked onto what you were seeing, her face transformed from one of carefree enjoyment to sheer disbelief and anger. 

Their smiles were flirtatious and you could feel the creeping feeling of fear settle in your bones.

They were completely engrossed in each other, oblivious to the world around them as they leaned in for a kiss. Definitely not a friend.

Ieiri was right. He was a scumbag.

Your mind couldn't quite grasp what was unfolding before your eyes, reality not even seeming real for a second.

Confrontation was the last thing on your mind. You didn't want to cause a scene, not here, not now, even if every fibre of your being screamed for justice.

Shoko's fingers tightened around her origami creation, crumpling it as her anger flared up. Her eyes locked onto the two with an intensity that could have scorched the room. 

She had always been vocal about her disdain for him, and this seemed like the perfect moment to let it all out. Without hesitation, Shoko started to push her chair back, her intention clear: she was going to confront Hiroto, give him a piece of her mind, and let the whole café know about his deceit. To berate him for everything he did to you, everything he did that you were too blind to see. You sat there in silence, your heart heavy with disbelief and betrayal but instinctively your hand reached out for hers. You shook your head ever so slightly, silently pleading with her not to make a scene.

“We can't just let him get away with this." she whispered back, her frustration growing by the minute.

Shoko's anger was palpable, and her lips quivered with the words she wanted to unleash but she respected your unspoken plea, if only for now, and reluctantly sank back into her chair waiting for your order number to be called out. Once you received the drinks and pastries, the two of you continued walking back to your shared apartment, the weight of the situation heavy on your mind as a tear slipped from your eyes. You had no goddamn appetite now.

The evening had taken an unsettling turn for you. After returning from a troubling encounter at the café that you wished you could just forget, you found yourself back in your cosy apartment that you shared with the Satoru Gojo, the most popular boy on campus.

As you pushed off your shoes and set them by the door, you overheard some of Gojo's friends chatting in the main area. Forcing a smile, you greeted the people in the room as Ieiri followed behind you, making her presence known as she greeted them as well. You placed the bag of pastries on the table, knowing that for certain, Gojo would inhale them when he got his hands on them.

“Hey, do you have a smoke?” Geto asked Ieiri as he looked over his shoulder. Next thing you knew, Geto had moved to sit across from you at the island counter while you sipped at your glass of water, mind wandering back to your jerk of a boyfriend. “How are you?” he inquired, patiently waiting for your response.

“I’m alright, thanks,” you mumbled, trying to muster a genuine smile in response to his concern. 

Geto waved a hand in front of your face as your thoughts drifted. Suddenly, you were locked into eye contact with him. Leaning down to eye level, he asked, “You sure you’re okay? You look a bit tired,” a playful chuckle escaping his lips.

You sighed a little before shaking your head resolutely, “Just had a terrible fucking week.”

Geto chuckled, “Tell me about it.” he scoffed, commiserating with your struggles. Although he didn’t know the full story, it didn’t matter, you were seen for a second and it felt good, "I swear they have it out for us."

Ieiri was best friends with both Gojo and Geto in high school. You never really understood their dynamic at all but the brief interactions shared with Geto had been enough for you to come up with a comprehensive answer. 

Many people around had said that Geto was like the sun personified, radiating this warmth and light wherever he went. His presence had an undeniable magnetic quality, drawing people toward him but he could leave an indelible mark on anyone in his presence. It was quite possible that what was true, made you smile a little.

Gojo's friends continued their lively chatter, sharing stories and laughter and it wasn’t until you heard the tap turn on that you realised Gojo is standing right next to you drinking water aswell.

“Hey. You smoking or what? I don’t have all day, Suguru,” Shoko chimed in, her voice cutting through the conversation.

“That shit will kill you one day Suguru.” he muttered next to you.

“Funny. You said the same thing to me today.” Ieiri commented and you could feel all their gazes land on you.

“I guess we’re a lot alike.” Gojo joked and you feel yourself smile at his words as Geto and Shoko shared a look.

Geto cleared his throat, a hand coming up to your shoulder, “Things will get better, I promise.” he smiled as both he and Shoko exited the apartment for their smoke.

The atmosphere inside the apartment shifted slightly as you were left alone in the kitchen with Gojo.

“What was that about?” he spoke, regarding the comment that Geto had just made. 

You turned your attention to Gojo and shook your head dismissively, “It’s nothing.”

“You sure? You can talk to me, you know?”

“I know,” you nodded, “It’s nothing, really.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” he took another sip of his water. 

You paused for a moment, “If I knew you had guests over, I would've brought them some as well.” you stated, pointing at the pastries from the café in the bag.

Gojo raised an eyebrow with a smirk. "So those pastries are for me?" he inquired, his playful tone evident.

"Don't push it." you scoffed, your heart warming at his teasing for just a second. There is suddenly a nagging feeling that tells you he is just being nice to you due to the circumstances.

You clear your throat as you tear your gaze away from him, "Are your friends staying for dinner? If they are, I might skip."  You weren’t exactly feeling like yourself, and would rather not be spending time around people you hardly knew. You were just getting warmed up to the man next to you anyways.

“They’re not staying over. Even if they were, I don't really encourage skipping meals.” Gojo replied, his tone shifting between genuine concern and playfulness.

You can’t even force yourself to smile at his concern, you wanted to keep the discussion going, but your recent experience at the café had left you feeling on edge. "I guess I’ll see you at dinner then." you teased, your playful tone masking the underlying curiosity you had about his intentions. Did he truly want to be friends with you or was he doing it just out of pity? 

He nodded at you and you retreated back into your room to grab some clothes but the voices of his friends drifted into your ears.

“Was that Hiroto’s girlfriend?”

“Yeah.” you heard the familiar white haired boy reply.

Their conversation had been about you, and you knew it. Trying to push yourself to stop them from eavesdropping, you shook your head and continued at finding some comfortable clothes for tonight. You needed to do something to take your mind off the events from earlier.

"Wait, seriously? I thought he was dating someone else."

Their words cast a shadow over your thoughts and only amplified your bad mood. You clenched your fists, trying to push down the mixture of anger and hurt.

“I don’t know how she’s still with him.”

The weight of their judgement had hit you harder than ever, especially after what you had witnessed earlier. As you contemplated confronting them about it, you could hear the hushed murmurs growing louder, escalating your frustration as a couple of voices interject. 

“She’s kind of pathetic. Don’t you think so?”

You weren't ready to hear them belittle you any further, so you decided to retreat to the sanctuary of the shower, hoping the water would wash away the bitterness. 

You turned on the water, stepping into the shower trying to drown out the sound of their voices echoing in your head. You wished you hadn't noticed how little effort Gojo made to defend you. Perhaps you were wrong to think the two of you were friends to begin with and considering his track record, maybe you shouldn’t have been so lenient to think he was different.

As you emerged from the shower, refreshed but still vulnerable, you were in the confines of your room as you messaged Shoko about what had happened. You knew she would give her a piece of her mind when she saw him next. You laid in bed, letting out some breaths steadying your heartrate as you heard Gojo call for you from outside your door. You weren't prepared for this, not after what you just heard between him and his friends.

With your emotions still raw and your nerves on edge, you slowly opened the door to find Gojo standing there, his usual confident demeanour softened.

His presence in the dimly lit hallway was both comforting and disconcerting. You met his gaze, your eyes holding a mixture of anxiety and frustration.

Gojo's voice was gentle but laced with concern as he spoke, "I sent my friends home.”

You nodded, not even bringing it in yourself to even berate him for being an absolute asshole to you when he thought you weren’t listening.

“I noticed you've been quiet since you got home. Is everything okay? Are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?"

Your emotions, a turbulent whirlwind of hurt and anger, surged within you. With a deep breath, you finally found your voice, but your words came out sharp and accusatory, "I don't appreciate it Gojo," you began, your tone wavering but determined, "I know what you and your friends say about me when you think I'm not listening."

Gojo's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about," you continued, your voice quivering with anger.

You could see Gojo's expression shift from confusion to realisation, and a pang of regret flickered in his eyes. His usually playful demeanour had vanished, replaced by a sombre and sincere expression.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered, his voice sincere but unsure of how to proceed.

You felt tears well up in your eyes replaying the pain of your boyfriend cheating on you and the callous things they said behind your back. The disappointment of his apology settled in- he’s only sorry because he got caught. 

“That was the last thing I expected from you.” you spat out. "I thought…” you let out a deep breath, your words hanging with every ounce of pain that you’d felt today. You shook your head as you continued, “I thought we were friends."

"We are." he declared, his eyes wavering now. With guilt or concern, you couldn't tell but you knew he didn't really care.

"We're not." you emphasised, still burning with the fury of all the events that transpired today. "Every day, I see you look at me with those eyes that say how pathetic you think I look."

Gojo's brow furrowed in frustration with himself. He wanted to say the right words, to offer comfort, but he struggled to find them. He stepped a little closer, his hands outstretched towards you. You stepped back, your heart pounding erratically, and he instantly retreated.

“You have no idea how much it hurts but I guess I shouldn’t have trusted you to begin with.”

Without giving him a chance to speak, you shut the door with trembling hands. You felt a thud against the door on the opposite end and you could hear him muttered a few curse words as you slid down the surface defeatedly.

His face that was etched with guilt and regret. That look was embedded in your head as you let the tears slip down your face. He gave a resigned sigh before turning away and trudging off towards the kitchen to make dinner– alone.

You stayed in your room until you heard the door to his room close after a couple hours of distracting yourself: with studying, messaging Shoko how much you hated Gojo, and cleaning your room. Retreating from your bedroom as quietly as you can, you see a plate of food he made for you wrapped up with a small post it note on your favourite drink next to it.

I know you're still mad at me, but I hope you don’t skip dinner. Eat well, you'll need the strength... ᕙ(‾̀◡‾́)ᕗ

You scoffed at his note, scrunching it up, putting it in your pocket. It was all just lip-service.

As you sat there alone, your eyes welled up with tears, and you could feel your composure slipping away. The weight of the day became too much to bear. Your heart ached, the hurt and betrayal coursing through you as you sobbed softly.

What a terrible fucking week.

tags! @stsgluver @pandoraium @cottonheadedninnymugggins @satoryaa @bbyxxm @itsthemodelinme @sattosugu

notes. this is not proofread. i don't think the last half of this is as good but... we move!!! i'm sick and wanted to give back with the first chapter since i have some free time to write now <3 it gets better i promise, please comment and give me some love (or feedback), thank you :)

[despairsphantomwrites]

Healed Scars (Part II) - Wanda Maximoff x Stark!Reader

A/N: It's been a thousand close to three years now I think? Two probably? Without writing so please excuse the obviously rusty skills 😭 Apologies as well for any mistranslation, as I'm not particularly fluent in Russian either.

Disclamer: None of the characters on this piece are mine, they belong to Marvel.

Healed Scars (Pt. I)

Part 2 of 2.

A soft knock on the glass doors of the lab snapped you back into reality, glancing up and away from the hundreds of blueprints and notes scattered along the table.

"Something wrong?" You hum, confused as you find Wanda silently staring.

"No, just wondering if you're going to join for movie night."

"Sorry, don't share Steve's passion for classics." Chuckling, you focus back on the notes scribbled almost haphazardly.

"Mind if I stay with you?"

You motioned for her to come inside, and she obliged with a murmured 'thank you', eyes roaming freely around the area.

A pleasant silence had enveloped the room, save from the rustling of papers and the whirring of machines in the background. Every now and then, she could also hear you quietly humming to yourself, pausing only to correct some of the notes before resuming the gentle tune.

She couldn't help but freeze as her gaze landed on a familiar, dreadful sight.

"You can get rid of it if you so wish." You mused, taking notice of her not so subtle glare towards an old picture of the Stark Industries factory. "I'm not sure why dad kept it around, but I doubt he'd care if it suddenly went missing."

Wanda didn't reply, fingers twitching as her hands rested on the table. It would be oh so satisfying, to indulge in your offer and tear the image apart, along with some of the memories that would forever haunt her and her brother.

"…No."

Your eyes snapped up to meet hers, a silent question swirling openly in them, waiting for the brunette to continue.

"It would be like wasting all the effort we put into starting from scratch."

"The self-restraint is truly admirable."

If she had anything else to add, it was soon forgotten as a blur entered the lab, threatening to send the papers flying as it stopped just beside the young witch.

"Sorry."

"No harm done Speedy." Rearranging the notes that had scattered, you look up at him. "What brings you here?"

"I was looking for my dear twin sister, but seems like she found good company already." He teased, ruffling her hair slightly. You couldn't help but chuckle yet again when Wanda smacked his shoulder, blushing from embarrassment.

“вести себя (Behave.)” Wanda muttered, eyes flashing red playfully towards the speedster.

“вы не хотите, чтобы они знали? (You don’t want them to know?)”

“Заткнись (Shut up.)” She mumbled, not missing the smirk on his face. The moment was quite short-lived though as another knock interrupts the scene.

"Suit up kid, last minute mission."

"On it, Cap." You called out to the retreating soldier, reaching out to grab a small device and attaching it to your chest. "See you two around."

It had been close to a full day already.

The mission was a success, giving Tony an excuse (much to everyone's dismay) to throw yet another party.

Wanda glanced around, green eyes dancing along the crowd as she nursed another drink. It felt so foreign to her, abnormal even. She almost missed the relative peacefulness of your lab, silently cursing whoever was currently in charge of the operation for assigning you last minute.

She took a sip, attempting to drown out the barrage of thoughts intruding her mind, gasping as she focused on a new presence.

"Not enjoying the party?"

You barely had time to react before the air got knocked out of your lungs along with a pained groan, feeling her arms snaking around your frame in a bonecrushing hug.

"Looks like someone really missed me."

"Are you alright? Steve said comms were gone for a good while."

"Just a couple bruises, suit's seen better days though."

Wanda nodded absentmindedly, only now noticing the few cuts visible along your hands and face. One of her hands moved to gently caress a bruise forming around your eye.

"Now, what's gotten you into such a sour mood?"

"I just… feel out of place."

"Not one for crowds?"

"Not really, no." She sighed, observing across the room as her twin laughed and mingled with the guests. "Too loud for me."

"Physically or mentally?" You mused, earning a wince from the sokovian girl. "I'll take that as both."

"Can't we just go somewhere else? Please."

You debated the request for a moment, eyes drifting around in search for any familiar faces, finally landing on Natasha. As soon as the russian met your gaze you pointed up, earning a subtle nod from the spy.

"Let's go then, little witch."

As soon as you reached the rooftop, Wanda let out a sigh of relief. She leaned against the railing, allowing the soft breeze to soothe her even further.

"So you do have good ideas every now and then." The brunette quipped, knowing this area would be off-limits.

"I'm starting to believe that I'm a terrible influence on you, Maximoff."

The laugh that fell from her lips left you awestruck. It warmed your heart seeing the amount of progress in such a short time.

"Thank you."

"Anytime, Wan-"

"No, I mean it." At your puzzled expression, she continued. "For helping me and Pietro adjust. We weren't exactly welcome at first, and the way we treated you all wasn't ideal either."

You hum in acknowledgement, settling by her side. You couldn't help but wonder if they'd have adapted faster if someone else had stepped up. Someone who wasn't a constant reminder of their past struggles.

"Stop that." Your eyes shift to meet her stern gaze. "You're thinking too loud. You're not-"

"-responsible for what happened, I know. And yet I can't imagine how it must have felt relying on someone whose name was engraved on the very same thing that ruined your life, your childhood."

"Stubborn as your father." The young witch huffed as she tenderly grasped your face, tugging you closer.

Wanda smirked as soon as her lips touched yours, effectively silencing your spiraling mind. The brief contact left you breathless, heart pounding wildly as you stared dumbfounded.

"Stop ripping open already healed scars." She murmured, thumbs gently caressing your skin. "I couldn't have asked for a better person to help us."

"There's people far more approachable than me." The glare you received was downright terrifying, head tilting ever so slightly. "Okay okay, I'm shutting up."

"You're incorrigible. But… I suppose that's part of your charm."

"Suppose?"

"Don't push it, Stark."

************************************

I may or may not have lost the file where I kept all the users from the taglist, so feel free to let me know if you'd like to be added to the new one 🙏

[noisydelusionlove]

Chapter 6: Exams pt2

Pairings: Poly141xOriginal Character, SoapxGhost, SoapxOriginal Character

Warnings: Medical inaccuracies, military inaccuracies, Alpha/Beta/Delta/Omega Dynamics. Slightly dark Soap

A/N: I decided to go a little different with the A/B/O thing, after some research and of course creative liberties. I don’t know how I feel about it so please let me know if you like it or if I should edit it and remove it (you’ll know what I mean when you read it). Also next chapter is the Ghost chapter, Aurora and Ghost alone in a small exam room, can’t go wrong right? Right? I broke this into two parts because I felt like having this scene plus Ghost’s scene would be a lot for one chapter .-.

Aurora smiles as she hears a knock on her office door. She opens the door and greets Johnny before motioning for him to sit at the chairs across from her desk chair. “Just a few questions before the exam if you don’t mind,” she says as she opens his file. “Do I get to take my clothes off for the exam Bonnie?” Johnny says, his ever-flirting nature shining through. “That’s not going to be necessary Johnny.” She laughs slightly as she shakes her head. “Well damn, I was hoping to suggest you do the same so it wouldn’t be awkward for me.” He jokes, causing Aurora to roll her eyes with a small giggle.

“So. since you are a pack Beta I know that you help the Alphas through their ruts. Is everything okay afterward? No pain or anything?” She asks causing Johnny to smile. “Nothing I can’t handle Bonnie. As you can imagine Ghost is huge everywhere, and I do mean everywhere but it’s not a problem for me.” He says with a wink. Aurora shakes her head as she looks at him. “glad to hear that.” she says, referring to him not having pain, but of course, Johnny can’t resist a good joke. “Glad to hear about Ghost’s massive co-“ Johnny starts but is stopped as Aurora leans forward and places her hand over his mouth. “Glad to hear you don’t have pain, Johnny.” She says as she stares at him, leaning over her desk as she covers his mouth.

Johnny gives the palm of her hand a playful bite, causing her to gasp slightly as she pulls back and shakes her head. She doesn't miss the fact that her scent that permeates the room has sweetened, and Johnny's has darkened. She shakes her head and returns to her seat. “So, I’m assuming Ghoast won’t be forthcoming with answers, or even willing to talk to me, do you have any suggestions?” She asks as she returns her eyes to the file in front of her. “He doesn’t like medical because they always try to remove the mask or touch him without asking. He may be big and mean, but he is skittish with medical for a good reason lass.” He says honestly. Aurora nods her head as she stands and motions to the exam room. “Let’s go do your exam.” she says as she opens the door. “fully clothed.” She adds, causing Johnny to let out a loud laugh.

Aurora has Johnny step on the scale to measure his weight and height before she instructs him to sit on the bed. “I’m going to take some blood, then I’ll get your vitals and then check your heart, breathing, ears, nose, throat, and scent glands.” She says as Johnny nods. She quickly takes a few vials of blood, packing them to head over to the on-base hospital with the other samples before wrapping his arm and grabbing her stethoscope. “Have you ever worked with a pack with an Apex Alpha before?” Johnny asks, causing Aher to pause and look at him. “Once, when I first started as a sniper.” She says honestly. Johnny nods as Aurora takes his blood pressure, oxygen, and temperature.

”I haven’t ever seen one until I met Ghost. The first time he went into Alpha state it honestly was terrifying.” He says honestly. Aurora nods as she listens to his heart and breathing. “I’ve seen it once, the only thing that saved that Alpha was his Omega.” She says honestly. Johnny nods as he sighs. “Well Ghost doesn’t have an Omega obviously, so they sent me in to try and help. He about ripped my arm off. I don’t think he recognized me in that state. They finally were able to sedate him. When he woke up the doctors had removed his mask and not covered his face. I’ve never seen him panic like that.” Johnny says sadly. Aurora nods. “They didn’t handle that well at all. Now I see why he keeps chasing all of your medics off.” She sighs as she grabs her Otoscope. She checks Johnnys ears, nose, and throat before putting it away.

”Now, the awkward part, your scent glands.” Aurora laughs slightly as Johnny turns his neck presenting his gland to her. She uses her gloved hand to feel around his neck, checking for swelling or abnormalities. As Aurora prods she notices that Johnny’s scent darkens, she chalks it up to the body’s natural reaction to such an intimate area being touched but suddenly a new smell hits her nose, outside of Johnny’s typical citrus and rain she smells smoke, it reminds her of the smell you would experience after a building went up in smoke. The sudden change in scent causes her to gasp and step back. Her inner Omega reacts almost instantly, she can feel a rush of wetness between her legs, her body releasing slick, as if in the presence of an Alpha. She can smell her scent sweetening in the air, causing her to take another step back in shock.

She meets Johnny’s eyes and hers widen as she sees his dilated pupils as he makes a show of inhaling her scent. “That scent,” She says before pausing as she closes her eyes to try and get a hold of herself. “Not the scent of a usual Beta is it Bonnie?” Johnny says, his voice deeper, taking on a darker timber causing Aurora’s legs to shake slightly as she leans against the counter to attempt to get a grip on her instincts. “Do you know how agonizing it’s been sharing a space with an unmated Omega? You have had Price and Ghost in a constant state of horniness that even Gaz and I struggle to handle. That’s not even to mention how I have felt.” He says as he stands up from the exam bed and slowly stalks towards her.

”So I see Ghost isn’t the only anomaly in this pack.” Aurora says as she looks at Johnny, her head still spinning slightly from the influx of pheromones. “You’re not a normal Beta are you Johnny?” She says as she finally calms herself and meets his eyes. Johnny smirks as he cocks his head slightly. “No? then what am I, Lass?” He says as he comes to a stop right in front of her. “I’ve only met one other in my time as a medic, but you’re a Delta. A Beta that can be either submissive like an Omega or dominant like an Alpha depending on who they’re around. With an Alpha you’re submissive, but with an Omega you’re more dominant.” She says as she stares up at him, finally getting her bearings. Johnny reaches out and brushes a lock of hair that came loose from her ponytail behind her ear. “You would have seen it on my blood work tomorrow anyway.” He says as he runs his hand down her cheek to rest on the base of her neck where her shoulder meets her neck, millimeters away from her scent gland.

“You don’t know the things I think of when I’m around you. I don’t know how Simon or Price keep it together. You smell good enough to eat.” He practically growls as he leans in to bury his face in her neck. Aurora gasps in shock, surprised by the bold move. After a moment the shock wears off and she pushes Johnny back. “No, I am here to be your medic, not some new toy,” she says with a growl as she stares up at him. “I am not some Omega that’s going to just roll belly up because an Alpha or Delta scents me.” She says, her eyes hard as she stares up at him. After a moment Johnny shakes his head and backs up, coming to his senses. “Bonnie I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” He sighs as he rubs his hands down his face.

”It’s instinct Johnny, we can’t exactly control it. I’m guessing that side of you doesn’t come out much since it takes an Omega to draw it out.” She says as she breathes a sigh of relief. She wasn’t looking forward to having to fight her new teammate on her second day at work.

”Your exam is done, I’ll let you know when I get the bloodwork back if anything needs to be done.” She says as she watches him nod. He sighs as he looks at her. “I’m sorry Bonnie, I didn’t mean to scare you. I wouldn’t ever hurt you. I swear.” He says, his voice quiet. Aurora nods. “I know that Johnny. You’ve been nothing but kind to me so far. I’m not mad at you.” She sighs as she offers him a small smile. Johnny nods as he turns and quickly leaves, his scent returning to normal as he steps out of the room. Aurora takes a few calming breaths before she quickly cleans the room and prepares it for Ghost. She heads into her office and begins writing up her notes to put in Johnny’s file as she waits for her last, and definitely her most difficult patient to come knocking.

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[mosneakers]

Jill: Belladonna, sweetheart, I know what that blue aura means when I see it. You holdin' up okay?

Coni swallows, her shoulders slumping as she shrugs softly. She can’t find the right answer, her eyes fixed helplessly on what's left of her world crumbling to dust before her. Coni: I should have said something a long time ago. Jill: Oh, honey, you don’t have to carry that blame. There are extraterrestrial beings everywhere doing the same thing—keeping their identities hidden to protect themselves, and for good reason. You did what you had to do.

Jill Smith lightly brushes her infant son's head to soothe him, a subtle gesture to reassure Coni of her maternal nature.

Coni: But the Darlings can be trusted, though. We didn't have to keep this from them. Jill: Well... maybe. Coni: ...Sorry? Jill: I don't know, dear. It seems to me like some of those characters may not have been who you thought they were. Coni stares blankly ahead at the grim scene unfolding in front of her, deeply contemplating the weight of Jill's words.

Tycho: Why? If you knew this entire time, why did you string me along? Another wave of shock crashes over her; every muscle in her body feels like it's screaming, and she can no longer contain her rage. Like a defensive fawn posturing as fierce to fend off a predator, she steps forward and furiously shoves him, stumbling clumsily over the high heels that had earlier tonight driven Tycho wild.

Coraleye: I'm sorry, what? I gave you chance after chance after chance to come clean—to do the right thing. But instead, you tried to steal my goddamn memories! Our memories! The private things kept just between us—were they not sacred to you? Huh? Tycho: I struggled so much, okay? The guilt ate at me every single day. But I guess it turns out I wasn't the only one lying here. I feel like such an idiot. Coraleye: [Mock-sympathetic tone] Oh! It really hurts, doesn't it, baby? Welcome to my life! Only the joke’s on me— because I lied to myself, too. I fully convinced myself you'd come around, that we’d build a life together. I was ready to give you my babies, my hand in marriage, my whole future. But no, you couldn't help yourself. You get off on fucking with my head. Well guess what? You can't control me, Tycho. You never could.

Tycho: Control you? Coraleye, I was never trying to control you. I put it off for so long because I didn't want to scare you off. I thought there could be a chance I'd lose you—lose what we had. Coraleye: Well if you thought that would scare me off, then you have no idea who I truly am. Tycho: That's never been clearer. Given your reaction now, seems I was right to believe that. Coraleye: Yeah, now! God, Tycho, your double standard is insane. Are you happy, now that Erwin's out of the way? You never did quite get that jealousy trait under control, did you?

Tycho: Am I happy? What's wrong with you? Why would you say something like that? Erwin's my best friend. You know what? You’re no better than me. If you’d just been honest from the start, instead of sneaking around, we could’ve worked together to protect him—and your brother, too! I know I was a coward and a liar, but you’re just as much to blame for all this as I am, and you know it.

Coni: I… I can't do this. They’re putting our friend to death, and I can’t just stand by and watch the world burn while it happens. I can’t stop them, but I can’t let him die alone.

Jill: I see. You'd like to leave for the cosmos? Should I tell your friends you'll be back?

Coni: [Pauses, shakes head] No. Please give them all my love.

The storm inside Coraleye comes to an abrupt halt, leaving her mind reeling in the eerie wreckage. This is what I get for breaking the rules and following my heart, she thinks to herself.

Tycho instantly recognizes the harm in his words and desperately tries to take them back, but it's too late—Coraleye severs their relationship. He doubles down, and the tension escalates until officers must intervene, dragging them apart as they curse and scream.

In the midst of the chaos, Coni Breeder quietly slips away, leaving for a distant planet to spend the remainder of her days as Belladonna Darling Goth.

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve snippet - a follow on from this and this

wc: 2.5k | rated: T | cw: none | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie but again this is about steve), hurt/comfort, established relationship, stimming

ao3

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

Steve is spending the evening doing one of his new things. Where he takes time to just be. It’s recovering, or Stevie time, or whatever Eddie and Robin have decided it should be called. 

He’s alone basically, and it’s nice, because he’s letting it be nice. Letting it be restful. 

It’s for when he’s had a meltdown. Or can feel one coming on, because now he’s starting to recognise what overstimulation feels like on his skin. How it prickles at the back of his neck if his breaks cut short, makes his vision vignette if something too unexpected happens. 

Learned that after something like that he’ll need to rest. Needs time. 

And it’s not lazy. It’s not. (Sometimes it still feels like it is.) (Weak…that word always plays in the deep, scathing tone of his father’s voice…and selfish.)  

He’s on the couch, it’s dark, he actually feels really comfortable, and he’s watching The Breakfast Club. Watching it again. It’s his favourite, it feels like his. But he doesn’t like watching it with other people because they might notice how much he likes it and he doesn’t want that. Can’t be seen like that.. Embarrassing. 

So he watches it alone, when he gets home from work. He pauses whenever he wants, rewinds, pauses. Takes a deep breath, rewinds, pauses, stares into space. 

He also pauses to eat the snack he brought in. Actually tasting the food bc it’s the only thing he has to focus on. No lights, no sounds. He forgot how much he likes oranges when they’re ripe. Harder to taste if he has to listen at the same time. So, on a day like today, he lets himself do stuff one step at a time. 

It’ll probably take him double the normal run time to get all the way to the end. But who cares? It’s his time. 

The weird girl’s parents driving off; that feels like him. The jock’s Dad letting him off easy; that doesn’t feel like him. ‘No schools gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case.’ Maybe that does feel like him. Before through. A long time ago now. 

He claps sometimes. Keening high in his throat, a little happy hum that he only lets himself do when he’s alone like this. He does it after he whistles the same tune they do. And during the scene of them running around the corridors. It’s exiting. Makes his lips stretch wide and his feet flap around. He claps. Once. Twice. It feels good. 

He laughs at the characters. How they merge together with bits of his friends. He feels that swell of happy sad emotion looking at the jock when he first comes in, acting above the others, only seeing Molly Ringwald. He lives through a couple flashbacks of himself. Resigns to actually watch them, sit in them, begins to process who he was. Who he’s becoming now. Something like forgiveness tasting sweet on his tongue. He cries a little; that swelling and shifting as buried emotion finally passes. It overcomes him sometimes when he lets his mind relax.. He rewinds, and he laughs. 

“Stevie?”

Steve starts, fingers tangle in the blanket in his lap. Brain slow to process the change, the information. Eddie slipping through the door and coming over to him. Eddie dipping to look at Steve’s face, trying to catch Steve’s eye. Eddie smelling like cigarettes and crisp autumn air, it’s nice, but, it’s a lot. Panic sits bubbling somewhere in him. He wasn’t expecting this. 

“…Eddie?”

“Hey sweetheart. I know you had a shitty day, but Wayne’s at home with a headache and he needs to sleep it off. Wouldn’t’ve been able to stay quiet enough for him.”

Steve breaths in and out a little quickly. Eyes wide. 

Maybe it’s okay. Eddie knows he had a bad day. Maybe it’s okay.

“I’ll sit in the kitchen, work on my campaign, just forget I’m here.” Eddie speaks quietly, almost a whisper. 

He stares at his hand in his lap. “..You won’t, listen?” Steve feels small. Knows he’s not, his frame broad and strong. But, he needs small. Wants his world small tonight, slow. Wants to stay hidden. Him and the couch and the film and nothing else. 

Eddie just shakes his walkman and smiles (in that pointy way that makes Steve’s toes curl). 

“Kay” Steve whispers, still wary, off kilter. But accepts the kiss Eddie drops on his head, tangling their fingers together for a breath. Steve leans forward for a kiss on the lips. It’s deep, and lovely. Steve can smell Eddie’s cologne. Feels where the chill bit at Eddie’s nose. He shivers.

“No cooking.” Steve mumbles while their lips are still close. Small smile pulling at his face, eyes sharp, waiting for Eddie to get it. 

Eddie groans quietly in embarrassment but his eyes are soft and molten and Steve’s toes curl up again. “Course not baby, not again. Once you’re hungry just come through, yeah? Make us something nice.”

And the light of the kitchen doesn’t reach the couch. And Eddie listens to his walkman loud. And Steve’s safe. It’s Eddie. He’s not listening. Steve’s safe. 

His favourite scene; Bender and Claire in the stock cupboard. The way he looks so shocked, the way she bites her lip. ‘Why’d you do that?’ ‘Because I knew you wouldn’t.’ Steve whispers as they do. Claps. It’s such a good scene. He’s exited. He claps again. Rewinds to just watch her face. Rewinds to just watch his. Rewinds and watches the whole scene again. Wraps his arms around his middle and squeezes. Pauses on the kiss. He rubs his fingers agains his mouth. Giddy excitement bubbles in his belly. He hums high and happy again. He loves this movie. 

The weird girl gets a makeover, the jock really likes it. He feels like the weird girl sometimes, maybe Eddie can be his jock. Maybe he should get a makeover. Maybe keep growing out his hair. Maybe Eddie would like that. 

The credits roll. Bender’s fist in the air. Steve drifts on the couch, eyes closed. He breaths deep, his stomach growls. 

He pads through to Eddie. Squinting. Too bright. “D’you mind?” He motions to the lights, his eyes too adjusted to the dark and he doesn’t even wanna try and adjust them back. 

‘‘Cause. What we making?” 

Steve hums, goes into the pantry to see what’s easy. Eddie slips in behind him, hand on his waist. “Pasta?” Steve asks but Eddie doesn’t reply, just turns him gently. Nudging him to step back into the corner. 

Eddie looks at him, dips forward to place a slow kiss on his neck. “Why’d you do tha..’ Steve’s words dry up in his throat. 

“Because I knew you wouldn’t” and Eddie’s eyes are sparking with glee.

Eddie heard him.

He listened.

Steve’s feels himself flush hot, embarrassed and ashamed. “Ah, I, uh.” He can’t explain it, why he had to watch it so many times, why it makes him so exited. He crosses his arms over his chest. Turns back to the shelves of food and picks a can at random. Shoving out of the room. 

“Steve?”

Eddie said he wouldn’t. He listened in on him. He said he wouldn’t. He’s making fun of him. Steve knew he should’ve told Eddie to go home. 

“Stevie? What’s wrong?” But Steve doesn’t want to talk to him. He’s so angry, So ashamed, of himself. What if Eddie heard him clap too, heard him make that high noise, like a fucking baby, like some freak. 

He puts the can on the counter with way too much force, corn, not what he fucking wanted. His hands are shaking. He stares at them, wills his tears to stay behind his lash line. He got too comfortable, he can’t do that. Why is it so hard to pretend now, when it used to be so easy. 

“Steve, tell me what I did, please.” 

“‘M fine” Steve’s insides feel too big, pushing against his skin, itchy all over. He squeezes himself around his middle again, digging his fingers in hard. 

“Don’t do that, you know I hate when you bullshit like that.” Half lovely, half scathing.

The word stinks, a stab to the gut. But Steve gets it, he does, they talked about it. He bites his lip, hard. 

Its old habits or whatever. Because Steve, he loved fine. Liked sinking his teeth into it; toxic waste green coating his mouth and lungs. Thick and delicious. Because fine gets you out of it. Fine gives you translucency. Controlled balance. Everything appearing a none issue, the perfect in-between. Steve was perfect at coming off as something to not worry about, someone to be ignored. It used to work in all situations; can’t get told off if you’re fine, cant do anything wrong, teachers didn’t look twice, his parents wouldn't shout. By staying half alive, never letting anyone too close, never filling your lungs up all the way. That was the fine Steve adored. 

“You were literally just watching a movie. I dunno what the big deal is.” and there’s frustration, confusion, in Eddie, Steve thinks. He feels himself tense up, glance over.

Eddie must see something on his face. See that scared little animal prowling around within him. Because Eddie softens, his voice gentle. “Steve.. it’s nothing I hadn’t heard before.’ And Steve’s teeth clamp together with a click. He’s done that, his clap and his high hum, in front of Eddie before? Steve tries to swallow, he can’t, a lump too big and sticky in his throat.

He can’t look him in the face, angry tears still threatening to spill “You said you wouldn’t listen.” He’s mumbling. He sounds even more like a kid. Stupid. Grow up.

“I heard a little but I was just flipping the tape over, I wasn’t trying to snoop on you Stevie… You just, you sounded happy.” 

Steve huffs. Glances at Eddie. That soft underbelly of his whining, because with Eddie, Steve yearns. Yearns for close. Yearns to be seen, and understood.

“You didn’t mean to?” 

“No, it was just when I was turning the tape.” 

Steve forces a deep breath. 

“You think I’m weird. You hate me.” He whispers it like it’s true. A big part of him believes it, his tears welling up. Feels rejected. Knows that feeling too well. Hates it. 

“Always like you Steve. Always.”

Steve grunts, a tear slips out, rolls down his cheek.

“‘M embarrassed” comes out like an ugly sob. Steve scrubs his palms on his cheeks, feeling how red hot they are. Glaring at the countertop. “I’m embarrassed!” But it’s just Eddie. It was just Eddie.

Eddie comes over, slowly draping himself over Steve’s back. “Nothin' to be embarrassed about, love.” And Eddie leaves soft kisses on Steve’s neck, squeezes his waist. “You looked cute on the couch like that. Like it when you’re happy.” Steve tries taking another deep breath but it shudders. 

Embarrassed, angry, sad. Embarrassed, confused, angry. Frustrated, embarrassed. Tired. 

Emotions wash over him. He’s learning to try and just feel them, name them, pick them apart. Some bubble back up to the surface, some only needed to be seen once. 

Steve turns to bury his face in Eddie’s neck. He sighs, rubs his face into Eddie’s warm skin. shaking his head, likes how his lips feel moving against edie’s soft parts. 

Tired, hungry, embarrassed, hungry. 

“’M tired. I dunno what to eat.” He whispers, and then because he said it it’s like there’s space in his brain. “Want pasta.” 

“Pasta it is then. And then we can sleep, yeah?” Eddie rocks them gently side to side, kisses the side of his head and slips away. Goes to get the box from the pantry, puts the corn back. Steve gets a pot out of the cupboard. 

Staring into the water, the tips of his fingers prickle. Steve fizzes with energy and emotion. All pent up and annoying him. Needs it out. He clicks the flame on.  

He starts pacing around the kitchen island. In big striding, stomping steps. “Ugh! You think I’m weird. Some weird guy who acts weird and does weird shit.” Steve grumbles. Annoyed. He smacks his palm quick and hard against the counter top. Keeps stomping. 

Eddie comes back and starts following. Stomping and prancing like some court jester. “I like that you’re weird! You know, I have one episode of the Twilight Zone taped. It’s my third one. I watched the other two so much the tapes broke.’ Steve lets a little shout slip from him “Ha!” bubbly and forceful. Dislodging something within him. Like when a tooth finally falls out. 

Feels good. 

“I only like one brand of spaghetti hoops. Wayne once bought me a multipack for Christmas. Best fucking gift I ever got.” and Steve’s laughing now. Giggling and manic and still stomping around the island.

“I like how it feels to brush my teeth. I’ve never had a filling. I fucking love brushing my teeth, Eddie.” and that makes Eddie laugh now too. Two freaks stomping around the kitchen. A king and his jester, lit up by moonlight. 

Steve turns the corner and stops short, still giggling. Eddies bent at one knee, presenting the box of pasta to him. “My liege.” 

Steve claps, hums, high and keening. The waters boiling. 

-

“How’d you feel now?’ Eddie asks around a mouthful of cheesy pasta. 

Steve curls up tighter into the corner of couch, wraps both hands around the warm bowl. Glances at Eddie across from him. “Still kinda embarrassed.”

Eddie looks so soft, so kind, across from him. “I’m embarrassed too, to be honest. You love that movie, I thought you’d like me doing that. Kinda like when we, when we kissed upside-down, like I was Spider-man” Eddies sentence get quieter towards the end, mumbly, spoked into his bowl, cheeks dusted pink.

Steve strains to hear him. Smiles once he puts the words together. 

He shovels pasta in his mouth. Eyes closed. “You are so annoying Eddie Munson. Why’d you even come here tonight, you coulda gone anywhere.” Steve sinks further into the couch, it’s really good pasta.

“Missed you.” Eddie says it like it’s simple, easy, and warmth drips over Steve’s skin. 

Eddie clears his throat, Steve feels him fidget. “Wanna maybe.. You think we could live together one day? Want you to be able to do whatever you want with me around Steve. Breakfast Club on all the time at our place, kay?” And Steve’s throat constricts, that’s a big change, living with someone, moving out. But maybe with Eddie it could be okay, if they did it together, slow. 

“Yeah, kay. One day.” Softly, bit by bit. Little bits. Steve can get there. Let Eddie in, let Eddie see. “But no to Breakfast Club on all the time.” Because some times, some days, some things, are just for him. Steve needs it that way. And that’s okay. 

He stretches out further on the couch, feeling syrupy and nice, easy smile playing at his lips. “I like it when you kiss my neck though, you can do that again.” And that makes Eddie grin all pointy, put their bowls to the side and crawl over him. 

Steve’s toes curl and he hums, high and happy. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

tagging those who asked mwah! @2jug2head @lil-gremlin-things

but also people who i think might be interested (sorry if ur not lmk and i won't again) @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @pearynice @steventhusiast @sugarcookiesteve @spectrum-spectre @irethsune

[star-light-imagines]

Can I request a Sesshomaru and Todoroki hc. Where their s/o likes to draw, and has a sketch book filled with drawings of them?

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° this really took on a life of its own as I started writing, I stayed true to the request but did add in a touch of angst , because that's what came to mind picturing this take place.

┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° I hope you don't mind!

Sketches of You.

: ̗̀➛ Includes - sesshomaru x reader. shoto todoroki x reader. fluff. mutual pinning. slight angst. jealous shoto. bonus content.

: ̗̀➛ Warnings - gn! reader. slightly mean sesshomaru. annoying jaken. slight angst. cute loving moments.

: ̗̀➛ Word Count - 4,420

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

(all art and characters are do not belong to me , credit goes to the original creators.)

Sesshomaru:

Curiosity. That's what he first started to feel towards watching you completely transfixed on the book you had in your hands. However, his intrigued stares were never granted a glimpse because when he would approach, your hands would tightly clasp the book closed.

As if you could sense when his eyes darted towards your artwork , you never failed to keep it just out of his view unknowingly adding to his ever-growing interest.

Your hands moved gracefully along the paper , as if it was dancing along the pages with the pencil held between your fingertips. Attention immersed in the lines forming in front of you , while a slight breeze annoyingly moved a strand of hair into your eyes causing you to pause.

"What is that book in your hands y/n? Is it for the school you speak of in your time?" he decides to ask while staring at you questioningly, the curiosity showing slightly on his features.

You hurriedly placed the book in your bag as he moved closer to the tree your back was now leaning against. The sketches were far too revealing of your feelings for him to see. No, if he saw these sketches he would see every emotion you had for him. You weren't ready to know if those feelings would be returned or denied.

"It's a sketchbook. Some of them are for my art class , however a majority of them are just so I can have a little piece of this era to keep with me while I'm at home." you said with a blush starting to grow pink on your cheeks.

"Hm."

He looked away from you as he looked towards the sky instead, sunlight catching his golden eyes making them almost glow. All you could picture was drawing the scene before you as soon as possible before you forgot how his silver hair blew in the slight breeze.

Annoyed. He starts to become annoyed when you had let Rin look into the sketchbook but you still went through immense effort to keep his eyes from looking at what you were creating. Why am I not allowed to see your art , do you not think of me as worthy enough to look upon it?

"Y/N! Y/N! look at these flowers I picked! Can you draw the same ones for me?" Rin had asked sweetly while placing her hands on your knees while you had been sketching.

"Of course I can." A smile effortlessly taking over your features as you speak to the girl.

"It's beyond me why you would want something useless like a drawing of a flower, child!" Jaken made his irritation known with a shrieking voice.

You start to diligently draw the flowers provided to you as you tune out the conversation.

"Oh Jaken! y/n told me that even though the flowers may wither away someday. However, if I have a drawing of the flowers then I can always keep them with me." she cooed happily.

"Don't you think so too , Lord Sesshomaru?" The little girl bubbly questioned

"Hm." was his only reply.

"That reminds me, Jaken, there's one of you and Rin together here."

You remembered suddenly as you finished the sketch of the flowers, quickly turning to the page of the drawing before anyone could see the others that plagued the pages of your sketchbook.

"WHAT! You drew me without my permission!" he screeches loudly.

Sesshomaru's irritation started to rise as the conversation grew on. Jaken's inherent gasp of wonder as Rin and him looked upon your sketchbook and the sequel of happiness she had praised upon you.

You happily gave her the sketch of the flowers she tasked you with, and she quickly was treating it as her prized possession.

"Lord Sesshomaru! Don't you want to see the drawing y/n made for me? It's so beautiful!"

"No , I don't need to set my eyes upon such trivial endeavors." It was said with such disgust that Rin had paused slightly and silence filled the air.

He had said the words out of irritation and annoyance, however you wouldn't know that.

Quickly without even sparing a glance towards the paper in Rin's tiny hands , had he stood from his spot next to the tree and left the campsite.

Leaving you with silent tears you refused to let spill in his wake.

Disappointed. He's disappointed in himself for allowing such insolent behavior. He had acted in such a childish way that he could only imagine his younger half brother would have reacted towards Kagome. He wasn't like him , he was more mature , more refined. So why is it bothering him so much anyways?

Was it because you never let him see the art inside that mysterious book?

Or was it the fact he had learned you had drawn the others in his pack and easily let them look upon your art while you still kept him at a distance ?

His thoughts plagued him as he stared at the full moon in the silence of the night.

Confused. When you had apologized the next morning while packing up the camp. There was nothing for you to apologize for which had hurt his pride more than when he acted so childish in front of you.

"Do not give apologies for something that is not needed."

There was no reply from you as a shocked expression formed on your features.

He knew he needed to atone for his behavior , however per his customs he would rather do so the right way rather than a lackluster apology, so he had to wait.

Guilty. After that night , he noticed you had stopped drawing as much as you used to. Before you had used almost every bit of your free time to draw, now it was replaced with you picking flowers with Rin or making small talk with Jaken and himself.

A few weeks had gone by since that night, and you had yet to even take out the sketchbook more than once a week much to his dismay.

Even though he never outwardly expresses it , watching you draw under the shade of the trees as Rin pranced around in the fields of flowers with Jaken at her heels brought a sense of peacefulness over him.

The furrowed eyebrows in concentration as your hands moved the pencil gracefully almost effortlessly across the sketchbook resting in your lap. A slight breeze rippling through your hair and making one strand a bit into your eyesight. Before you had moved the strand behind your ear to stop it constricting your line of view.

He knew you loved to draw and apparently had a gift for it from the praise Rin and Jaken had given you that night. He didn't want his childish words to keep you from doing something you desired to do.

He took a moment to peek at you over his shoulder , your eyes glancing at the clouds above. A slightly sad expression overtaking your facial features before you had made eye contact with him almost as if you had known his eyes were on you.

He quickly moved his eyes forward to gaze at the trail in front of him, a stoic expression while his heart hammered in his chest. This was new, he never felt this way before. He never felt the need to make someone want to smile more strongly than he did right now, and he had no idea on how to accomplish that with you.

Content. He led you aside one night to a river near the campsite. The moon light was reflecting off the water enchantingly and fireflies decided to dance along grass nearby.

"You no longer draw , how come ? Is it not something you desire to do?" he asked with a stoic expression as gold eyes made contact with e/c, filling the silence between you two.

"Oh , I just figured maybe I should take a break from it for now, plus my sketchbook is almost full so until my next trip home I'm a bit limited."

He noticed how pink dusted your cheeks before you quickly looked away. A smirk slightly formed on his lips at the sight , he liked seeing a blush form on your cheeks more than he previously would have realized.

"You apologized before for something that didn't need your apology."

"Oh, yes, that's right." you stammer out not seeing where this conversation could be heading.

"Do not do so again. If you know you aren't at fault , don't lower yourself to others' bad behavior."

You stood there stunned, not quite sure what to say before uttering a quick " Yes." when his stern eyes reached yours.

When that conversation happened you had mostly apologized in order for there to be no ill will between you two and make sure he wasn't upset at you. Never would you have imagined he would tell you twice now not to apologize for something so trivial in the long scheme of things.

"If anyone needs to apologize , it would be this Sesshomaru for the unsightly attitude I had given you. I should have told you this before now , however it is a yokai custom to come bearing gifts when asking for forgiveness."

Sesshomaru pulls out a set of what looks like custom made art tools. They were beautifully handcrafted with fine luxurious materials, more than likely yokai crafted at that.

A gasp of awe escapes your lips as your fingers gingerly gloss over each of the tools, you focus mostly on drawing but you could now expand your art to other mediums such as painting if you so desired.

Your heart had swelled to the brim with affection and happiness that spilled out in the form of tears running down your cheeks.

"Is it not to your liking." he asked, his lips forming a tight frown.

"It's beautiful." you say with what you're sure is the happiest smile you ever graced him before.

Yes , he is content with this for now.

Realization. Later that night as you two were walking back to the campsite, you ended up asking him why he had responded in such a way in the first place. When he had told you how he felt irritated about the others getting to see your art, while he felt left out and cast aside, you instantly started to feel guilt weigh down your shoulders.

"There's a reason I never let you see. It's not a good reason, but I was just embarrassed of what you would say once you saw what I draw everyday." you say while heat spreads to your cheeks.

"Why would you be embarrassed of showing this Sesshomaru?"

You quickly take the sketch book out of your bag and hand it to him before you can change your mind. He eyes you while his clawed fingers carefully open the book in his hands and you look away, embarrassed to watch his eyes linger on the sketches.

He's silent as his fingers graze the pages within , silently turning the pages every few moments after he takes in the contents of the page before.

"These are all sketches of .." he trails off in amazement, his eyes taking on a softer look than you have ever seen before.

"They are all sketches of you. yeah there's Rin or Jaken , maybe a beautiful valley every now and then , but you are what I sketch everyday. You are what I like to see most even when I'm in my era and not by your side."

That's when he realized the feelings he had towards you this whole time wasn't just ordinary feelings for a companion in his pack , or a human he had just happen to keep by his side.

He wanted to keep you by his side. He wanted to always make you smile the way he you are now with your eyes glowing and your cheeks dusted with a pink hue.

Most importantly, he couldn't be just content with you as a companion for much longer.

I never want to let y/n go.

"Y/n I desire to see everything you draw from now on."

"Of course" you reply shyly.

"You are stunningly beautiful when you blush like that. If only I had the skills you possess in order to show you as you had shown me."

Wide eyes catch the smirk dancing on his lips before he walks towards the campsite , hand still wrapped tightly around your sketchbook as he did.

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Bonus Scene:

"Sesshomaru , I've been meaning to ask this. where did you get these art tools ?"

He glanced down at you as your head rested on his shoulder, your new sketchbook on your thighs as you gracefully sketched a beautiful scene of the two of you this time under a cherry blossom tree.

A pleased smile graced his usually stoic features as his eyes became softer at the sight. "I had them specially made from a yokai craftsman in my territory, the day Jaken was left to guard you two I had gone to collect them."

You smile happily as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder more as a slight breeze whipped some strands of hair onto your face.

He reaches a clawed hand towards you elegantly , placing the strand back behind your ear taking a few seconds to pull his fingers away before smirking at the obvious heat rising to your cheeks.

»»———-　　———-««

Shoto Todoroki:

Curiosity. He started to notice you would often be sitting close to the windows in the dormitory, with all of your attention focused on the sketchbook on your lap. You would never once glance up at the environment around you, not even when one of your classmates was usually loud. His interest peaked , he couldn't help but wonder what you had been drawing for days on end.

Shoto had decided to try and take a glimpse at your artwork after watching you work dedicatedly on the page before beneath your smudge stained fingers.

The sketchbook had been slammed closed before his eyes could see the mysterious artwork hidden within, only feeding into his curiosity even more. You had given him a quick glance , making eye contact before placing the book safely in your bag.

"It's not polite to look at someone's personal belongings without permission, Todoroki."

His eyes glazed over to the bag that now held the notebook that is just out of his reach, before returning his eyes to stare directly into yours evenly almost as if stating a challenge.

"I'm just curious as to what you are drawing that has you so transfixed."

A smile makes its way to your lips.

"Ever hear that curiosity killed the cat."

You hastily made your way to your dorm room, bag in tow. The thumping of your heart was echoing in your ears as you walked. That was close, too close for comfort. If he had seen inside, he would know just how deeply of a crush you have been harboring for him since you first met him.

While he still stood there, piecing together your sentence.

Were you saying I would die for being too curious?

Content. Since the day he tried to take a glimpse of your sketchbook , you had been careful to not let him approach too closely. Making sure that if you had sensed him , you would immediately close the book in your hands. However, the curiosity he felt started to fade. Taking in the sight of you drawing so earnestly and with such dedication was art in itself.

You were enchanting , eyes focused on the pages before you. a firm grip on the sketchbook as it laid on your lap and your remaining hand danced across the paper delicately. His eyes were in a trance as he watched you from across the room , gliding along with each movement your fingers made.

A small smile graced your lips as you finished whatever art piece you had set your heart on that day, and that's when he felt it. Watching your eyebrows relax and peace settle into your face as you looked content as you placed the sketchbook bag in the safety of your bag. He noticed he no longer really needed to know what you were drawing as long as you continued to smile just like that.

Warmth filled his chest at the thought as he gazed at your retreating figure.

Yes, he's content with this.

Bitter. Shoto realizes that you are drawing in Midoriya's notebook. the feeling of ice shivered down his spine as he saw you so intently focused with that same smile he felt so content at seeing. Now being shown to his best friend in the seat next to you. Oh, so that was why you never let him see your art , it's reserved for someone else.

Midoriya had asked you a few days ago to help him redesign the sketches in his notebook. He noticed how you were always drawing in your free time and decided you would be the best person to go to for the request.

You've never taken commission work before, and even though you weren't getting paid it did feel nice having someone look at your art and see how excited they got at the results. Watching how happy Midoriya was at the sketches you had already placed made you eager to accept more requests in the future if you ever got the chance.

"Wow! y/n I can't believe how amazing your sketches are!" he says in wonder.

"Thank you, but you are really flattering me too much." you say happily as you make the finishing touches on the last drawing of a figure of midoriya doing a move he's wanting to practice.

"I really mean it y/n! This is way better than anything I've ever managed to do. What made you start drawing?"

You quickly put down your pencil as you go into thought for a moment from the sudden question.

"I guess.. it would have to be the fact that even though moments pass by so quickly, a moment I draw will stay forever encased like a photograph for me to look at whenever I want to revisit it."

"Y/N! That's beautiful." he states with slight tears forming in his eyes, while he's forcing himself to hold them back.

"Oh Todoroki! You're up early this morning, come look at y/n's art." Midoriya said excitedly as he motioned for Shoto to join them at the table you were residing at.

Your heart hammered in your chest at the thought of him finally looking at your artwork. This was finally something he could see that wouldn't immediately show how much you liked him and you were nervous about his response to your designs.

"No thank you. I heard curiosity killed the cat." he says with a stoic expression.

e/c met a heterochromia mixture of grey and blue in shock, he had refused to see the art he tried so desperately to steal a glimpse of a few weeks before. Had he really taken you seriously with your remark?, or did he just no longer care to look at what you were drawing anymore. The excitement in your heart slowly fading out, you fell silent.

You watched as midoriya continued to talk to him with a slightly shocked and worried expression, before eventually shoto had left the room leaving you alone once again with the green haired boy beside you.

Numb. The days following he had started to distance himself from you and Midoriya. Deciding to no longer eat with the two of you at lunch like before or spend free time together in the dormitory like what had been a routine for him. He now isolated himself in his room to escape the questioning looks you would give his way or the worried expressions his best friend would give him whenever he became too silent.

He didn't want to distance himself from you , but every time he saw you he remembered that the only one you allowed yourself to open up to was midoriya. He realized he would never be able to get close to you the way he was and it made him feel cold.

The cold feeling overtook him in a way that was so intense that his body and mind felt numb.

I lost y/n before I even had a chance to get them.

You had noticed how he was distancing himself and your heart ached in pain at the fact. every time you had tried to reach out, to question what could be plaguing his thoughts he would shut you out. Not only was your mind suffering from the worry , but so was the art you had tried to complete in order to relax from the stress.

The sketches of shoto that you had tried to finish the last few days have been a failure compared to your collection of artwork consisting of the one man taking over your thoughts. It was pointless to try and draw him when he won't even talk to me anymore.

A silent tear strolls down your cheek as you look up to the ceiling of your dorm.

Why do I feel so numb?

Midoriya had told me recently that my art might be able to reach people when words fail.

Taking a quick glance towards your sketchbook before you could second guess your thoughts, you grab it tightly in your hands and make your way towards his dorm room.

Surprised. The knock on his door had shaken him from his thoughts, and the sight of you as he opened his door had his stoic expression falter slightly as his eyes widened just a bit where you could notice. He obviously wasn't expecting you to be here in his doorway, Why would he when he had been actively pushing you away ? and yet here you were smiling sadly back at him in silence.

"Y/n?" he lets out a confused gasp of your name that he believed he only spoke in his mind for a moment when you took a few beats to answer.

He notices you take a breath inward before releasing it and the determined e/c orbs reach him.

"I won't know what's wrong unless you tell me."

"And I won't know how to help you unless you tell me." you continue before he can reply.

"But I can care about you, and I want to help you so stop pushing me away!"

You place the sketchbook in his hands in one rough motion as you finish your last sentence. Your gaze now directed at the ground and the tips of your ears growing red and the feeling of his eyes lingering on you in the silence that fell over you two.

Shoto looks down at the sketchbook in his hands while processing the words you had told him. he knows he was being to hard on you, he shouldn't have treated you so badly the last few days. he just couldn't force himself to watch you be with his best friend when he had just recently discovered that the feelings he's harbored for you all along would go unrequited.

He slowly opens the sketchbook prepared to see sketches of Midoriya or even just random sketches of the world through your eyes, however once the contents reach his vision he freezes. his fingers grazing the person so familiar to him on the pages before flipping through each page.

"This is .." he starts before stopping, surprised to see that every page was filled with sketches of one person.

"You. They are all sketches of you." you say a small smile placed on your lips as you hesitantly glanced up to him.

His heart filled with so much joy and awe that a few silent tears slid down his cheeks as he realized that not only did the person he had feelings for , have feelings for him as well , but that he had unintentionally hurt you more than he intended when he distanced himself.

"I was jealous." he states, suddenly making your mouth open in shock.

"What?!"

"Midoriya was able to see your artwork. It seemed like he was so much closer to you than I would ever be."

Shoto gazes turns downward towards his feet as a slight blush graces his cheeks from the revealed emotions.

You were surprised by the sudden confession and let a lighthearted laugh escape your lips from the pressure of his distance to put on your heart. He glanced at you making eye contact before you leaned into him, placing a hand on his cheek as you got closer.

"You know that cats have nine lives ? so even if they do die of curiosity they can always try again." you say before leaning to press your lips to his.

Happiness. The ice he had felt had melted and the numbness from the cold was warmed completely from your feelings that reached him through the sketches you had shown him and the kiss you have given him.

"I'm sorry for hurting you." he says softly while placing a strand of your hair behind your ear and looking deep into your eyes.

You smile brightly up at him in return.

“Promise to talk to me next time before you jump to conclusions?”

He laughs slightly as a small smile takes over the frown that graced his lips.

“Promise.”

┊┊┊┊ ➶ ❁۪ ｡˚ ✧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Bonus Scene:

“So why were you drawing in Midoriya’s notebook?” he asked while you ate dinner together in his room.

You looked at him with a bright smile excited to tell him all about how you were now wanting to start commissioning your artworks.

“He asked me to help him redesign his notebook. He told me his drawings were making his notes look too messy.” you said happily before stealing a piece of his food from his plate.

“I really wish I would have paid more attention that day.” he said with a small sigh before the smile returns as he gazes at you.

“However I don’t regret anything because somehow throughout all this , I managed to get you.”

»»———-　　———-««

A/N: Should I keep my headcanons / imagines like this or make them more simple & short?

[opal-owl-flight]

Can you please tell us more about Neo4. What's their background.

“I need your help.”

Thing is -- I dont exactly own that character! Hes owned by @pastille-pain ... I asked them abt his deets, so here it is under the readmore!

His recruitment by 3 is also under the readmore :) (+more notes abt pre-sploon3)

(From my pal)

My Precious Soy Sauz

Aka croissant

Where he comes from is inkopolis

Lived there his whole life actually. A very sheltered kid due to being raised by grandparents that were in Octaria at one point. So they wanted to make sure nothing really happened to him

An only child but he had his cousin (Nakji, Takoyaki) of the three, he'd be the middle child with Nakji and the youngest.

He's got two friends (three if we count malachite -- the smallfrt) outside of the platoon. Dulce, and (unfortunately) Scara

He dating Melon (oc of mine), we know this

Kinda funny it started as her just battling with him cause he was good but then it turned something more

His time before the platoon was mostly

"Hey are you related to that Sauz idol?" Or "hey, you related to that Sauz wrestler?" It got annoying very quickly so he started introducing himself as croissant and nothing else

Aside from that, if he wasn't turfing he was at home reading or watching shows. Guys a very boring person

He's a pretty big OTH fan...

All this above is still the same even while being apart of the platoon minus the constant questions about his relatives and adding college into the mix

He can do some really cool shit when he's focused (like absolutely demolish competition in turf) but he's also easily distracted so I think you can imagine how that goes

His stress relief is shopping (mostly window shopping, very rarely does he actually buy anything)

He never gets too mad but we know the face if he does

Fun fact, you will never catch this man in pants

Short and anything else

Not pants

The only time he's ever seen wearing pants is in his agent gear and that's cause it's what was given to him.

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

Heres a bonus too, of 3s recruitment of him!

It was a turfing match, and theyve been watching the krak-on user the whole round. They took note of how he responded to stress, to bad calls, and how he acted on his own following calls he had judged as bad. Once it was over, they followed the team into the lobby.

They stand tall against the doorframe theyre leaning against, presence as cold and as commanding as ever.

(Nevermind that Croissant is taller AND older than them, that squid is intimidating as FUCK)

A whistle, calling the team over.

"|May I have a word?|" they sign, "|Ive been watching your team turf for the last few rounds.|"

Scara, the team captain, spits a "Who the FUCK are you."

3s eyebrows raise in surprise. But they should expect it... casual turfers dont usually know their name.

They went to the smaller leagues for a reason. If something happened to a big name in the scene, and its found that they had something to do with it-

No. No. They mentally shake their head. They are NOT picking this person because they are going to be fucking canon fodder.

"|Who I am is not important. Not much, anyway.

I am... interested in one of your teammates.|"

a nod towards Croissant. "|As a krak-on user myself, his performance has impressed me.|"

"Has he now. You seen our losses?? Are you making fun of us??"

"|He has great potential.|" they sign, ignoring the outburst. "|I would like to...|" theres a slight pause. "|...train with him.|"

"I can train my team perfectly, all by myself. Get lost."

They give a cold stare back. "|Im sure that has worked very well for you thus far.|"

The captain didnt seem to want to back down. 3 continues, ear twitching.

"|This request was not aimed towards you, anyway. Im asking him.|"

"BUT-"

"|I want to hear HIS answer.|"

A test. 3 saw that Scara was pushing him around and the only reason they won the match was bc Croissant decided to go his own way. Will he go his own way now?

"Well I know he'll choose to stick with me-"

"Oh I'd love to train with you I like helping others :D"

"You weren't supposed to say that."

3 nods. "|It begins now. Come. We have much to discuss. And as for you.|"

They clack their beak. "|Captain to captain. You need to listen to your teammates more.|"

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

Once they are in a more private space...

"|Training is only one part of the deal.

I apologize for not being upfront. This is a matter of national security, and I cannot mention much about it beyond base.|"

I suppose Croissant hasnt heard...or at least, isnt into much of the so-called Hero of Inkadia thats plastered everywhere in Inkopolis? If he was, hed at least start thinking of all that being like... "wait all that media was based on something real???"

(3 mentioning national security and a base may also inspire thoughts of "wow this squid's a fucking nerd...")

"|You are free to reject my request if you feel unfit for the task at hand. But where are my manners? I have yet to formally introduce myself.

Topside, I am known as FOR3VRFRSH. Here, I am the Captain of the New Squidbeak Splatoon.

I suppose youve heard of such a force...? No?|

Mm.

|Just know that we keep Inkadia more or less safe from nation-destroying threats.|"

He accepts the offer... but he also wasn't thinking too hard on it cause he saw an opportunity to step away from Scara and took it immediately.

3 nods, beckoning him towards the sewer line. As they walked backwards into base, they signed to him. "|From this point onwards, you will be referred to as Agent...Four.|"

Theres a very slight waver of their hand as they signed the number.

"|You show much promise, from what Ive observed in turf. Dont disappoint me.|"

"The only person I disappoint is that guy, but he's just very critical-"*

Theres a glint in 3s eye, a look of amusement... "|...Overly critical is putting it lightly.|"

"I promise to do my best still."

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

3 introduces him as the new Agent 4 and I feel Marie just scrunches her nose a bit. Then sees the look in 3s eye...

To the folks from the regions around 3s home (Callie, Marie, Cuttlefish), theyre not subtle about missing her.