#like they’re so small for no reason. so i got the small size after measuring my wrist

[pinetreevillain]

Rise Turtle Strength Calculator

Part 2: Purple Bugaloo

Disclaimer: I Am Just A Guy And 100% of this is guessing, googling, and approximation

So!!!! Got a request to determine Donnie’s strength and the journey was an Interesting One.

So let’s start with the most popular

EXHIBIT A: Dumbbell (Insane In The Mama Train)

He pulls it off with ease (relaxed pose, no real effort exerted until he makes the effort of hefting it and throwing it). Going off the size of these dumbbells, they are either 45lbs or 100lbs. This is a big gap! But seeing as the yokai falls over as soon as its removed, we can assume that Donnie is AT MOST tossing a 100lb weight with little to no effort.

UNFORTUNATELY this doesn’t tell us much else since we don’t see the weight hitting anyone/anything other than the traincar door before it teleports away.

So! We must delve further

EXHIBIT B: Donnie’s Equipment

We know Donnie’s tech bō is made from high grade titanium.

TITANIUM IS A LIGHT METAL! Revered for being light weight, flexible, and rust-proof. Used to make medical tools! This make perfect sense as 1) ninjas need maximum mobility and heavy equipment is counter intuitive, 2) melee weapons are supposed to be LIGHT (see reason 1).

However! This does not stop me from calculating the weight of Donnie’s tech bō regardless.

TO DO THAT, i must first calculate the length of his staff (operating under the assumption that both the ninpo staff and the tech bō are the same in size).

BŌ STAFFS ideally are the same height as the wielder. We are going to use this image (cannot find source) as reference, just like i did w Raph (give or take any growth between season 3 finale and movie)

Donnie is 5’3”, and while i’m here, weighs ~140lbs give or take after plastron, muscle mass, and Bones

The average bō staff has a circumference of about 1-1 1/8th of an inch depending on the length. I’m leaning more towards the larger because of the tech bōs gadgetry and hammerspace.

NOW to calculate how heavy a 5’3” metal pole that’s 1 1/8 inch in width of titanium.

Thankfully the internet is Insane and literally has a calculator that calculates this exact thing.

I was able to come to the conclusion that his tech bō probably weighs no more than approximately 1 pound.

Not very heavy!

What about his battle shell?

WELL it depends! For ease, I’m going to calculate it like a backpack.

The average public school backpack is 12-20 lbs full (heavy and 5-20% heavier than a child SHOULD be carrying to avoid back and neck strain).

I’m going to use measurements from this Random Backpack Website I Found and calculate it as a Medium Backpack (larger than standard) with a laptop pouch, and some minor adjustments since his shell covers him from neck to ass (roughly 24 inches, his height is in his legs)

It’s harder to calculate the shell because he has Different kinds and they’re made of different materials.

I am going to give all of these a base of 66lbs + whatever equipment they have

His Mango shell is probably largely padding with minimal titanium lining

Ice Maker shell is probably heavier. Spider Shell, Drone Shell, are all made w titanium so. Assuming Donnie makes EVERYTHING out of titanium

TECH BŌ: 5’3”, ~1 lb

BATTLE SHELLS:

- Mango: ~66lbs

- Drone: ~150 lbs (including whatever is powering it)

- Ice Maker: ~200 lbs (including ice)

- Spider Shell: ~150lbs

🧍

New approach!

EXHIBIT C: APRIL

WE SEE DONNIE CARRYING/SUPPORTING APRIL A NUMBER OF TIMES. A majority of them i am writing off because he is using his tech to assist.

HE IS just holding her up easily in this shot. After some cursory google searches i determined April O’neil to be ~110lbs soaking wet because she’s 4’8”, petite, and the boys fling her around like she’s made of craft foam.

Conclusion: Donnie can lift/throw a fairly decent 110 pounds, and carry approximately 200lbs

This is a small number after raph’s 20,000 lbs, and i can barely lift an 84lbs dog so I’m not gonna sneeze at it. It does however check out for someone who is physically fit and active (and does backflips and parkour and fights enemies four times his bodyweight)

BUT WAIT!!! PINE!!! WHAT ABOUT…

EXHIBIT D: SUBWAY KRANG (The Movie)

Donnie DOES get bonked pretty hard by a subway car and doesn’t Immediately Die. To determine this I had to calculate the Weight Of A Subway Car and the Breaking Point of Titanium.

Subway car: 82,000lbs empty

119,000lbs full

Because the subway car looks like this

I’m gonna call it full.

Titanium has a tensile strength of 63,000 pounds per square inch.

After determining the size of Donnie’s shell off his body, and how much titanium was used, i cam to the conclusion that…

I CAN’T ACTUALLY CALCULATE it because the shell he was wearing was actually mystic/ninpo made and therefore NOT SOMETHING I CAN CALCULATE! It does explain why Donnie wasn’t Rapidly Dispersed upon being bonked by an INSANE AMOUNT OF FORCE.

This very issue crops up again with the other example of Donnie lifting and slapping down the drill on Shredder in the season finale. That was aided ENTIRELY by ninpo/mystic abilities and therefore incalculable.

My counter to the argument that “their ninpo is gone, it’s not mystic anymore” is that Yes They Could Not Access Their Ninpo, but their ninpo-made weapons were still fully intact, and TECHNICALLY still working, the ability to use them had just been locked away

i also humbly believe that Draxum’s Ooze made the boys’ bones EXTREMELY resilient and capable of absorbing force the same way Captain America’s shield absorbs vibrations — my way of explaining why they sustain little to no injury throughout the series.

That being said, it makes the fact that Donnie couldn’t break open a watermelon AND sprains his ankle pretty badly tripping on a fruit EXTREMELY FUCKING FUNNY TO ME.

TL;DR: Donnie can throw ~110lbs give or take, with a lift/carry of maximum 200lb (maybe a bit more before it hinders his movement speed!)

Donnie’s probably not excessively strong but he is CERTAINLY sturdy. Something something rectangles symbolizing stability blah blah metaphor metaphor

#rottmnt #big brain mode #rottmnt donnie #donatello #tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #math and shit #eyooo #if i missed any shells let me know! #references

[sickeningly-sweet-letters]

Can a request a yandere fashion designer x reader ?

thank you for requesting, anon! i struggled a little with this one but i really hope you still enjoy it! also you never specified what type of fashion designer so.. ufufu

i want my fashion designer to specialize in lolita fashion 👉👈 but feel free to imagine any kind of fashion!

🌻 yandere fashion designer x gn reader!

- a well known fashion designer who was renowned for their high quality clothes in their online store, yet they lacked one thing.. a model! they’d been modeling their clothes themselves but having an actual model would be ideal. the only problem was.. they were incredibly picky with who could wear their clothes. thats why you were so surprised when they suddenly contacted you to work as their model..

- but you just had.. something.. some unique charm about you! they needed to have you. they’d pay any price, just name it! you were oh so captivating, you’re the perfect model! it doesn’t matter if you’ve never worked as a model, please just let them design all of your clothes!

- you finally accepted and you were called to an apartment instead of like.. a proper shooting location. they were treating you like a guest instead of a employee.. but when they finally asked to measure you, they seemed to take a bit longer than expected and getting way too close.. they said they wanted to be sure they measured you properly but was that really the reason why?

- they were acting super familiar. complimenting you, making comments about every small detail they found cute.. the conversation went from clothes to just you. as it should! you made even their worst designs look like their magnum opus! huh? oh right! you were here to model, haha! here, they already chose some outfits! why don’t you let them help you change- oh okay..

- getting their camera ready, some of the shots they wanted to take were.. they were just for reference! this was completely normal! they just wanted to see what angles worked best! they definitely didn’t want a separate, private album full of photos of you! not at all! ahaha! what gave you that idea? ..it didn’t? oh, nevermind then!

- once you were done with modeling, it seemed like a lot of the clothes you wore were part of matching couple outfits? thats surely a coincidence though! its not as though they’ve been meticulously planning an outfit that will suit the both of you! alongside your payment, they insisted they give you the clothes you wkre. its fine! they’re all about your size anyways! don’t ask how they got your estimate sizing though, just take them! make sure to show it off to everybody!

- it was odd how some clothes never seemed to show up on their website but.. don’t stress the details, doll face! they just finished about.. maybe ten or so designs and they want your opinion! these would be tailored exactly for you, after all. well, they’ve been tailoring clothes specifically for you for a while, this is just the first time they’ll be exactly fitted to your measurements.

- hm.. maybe you should come see them in person! its better that way, doll face. just come on by and you can discuss it together over tea! doesn’t that sound nice? you could even model a little for them! so don’t worry about a thing! just enjoy the strong aroma of freshly made tea.. this is what you always order at cafes, right?

- they finally dropped the act when your eyes started drooping, catching you before you fell over. they seemed even more infatuated with you somehow.. you have pretty eyes, my little doll! ah.. they wanna style your adorable hair so badly! don’t worry. they finally let you visit their new and improved studio, isn’t this so exciting? it’ll be just the two of you from now on!

- by the time you woke up, you were in what looked like a warehouse filled with clothes. your dear fashion designer had been quite busy from the looks of it. the sound of a photo being taken was heard and they finally showed up.. they felt bad for tying you up but it had to be done! what if their doll got hurt if you tried to run? please bear with it for a little while!

- they had already taken a few photos of your peaceful sleeping face.. at last, they were free to take as many photos of your cute face! and in whatever outfits they wanted! you had indeed been changed into different clothes and now you two were matching, just like a couple! now, little doll. its time for the final photoshoot to begin! just the two of you.

come on, you signed up for this! didn’t you read the contract? it clearly said that they could call for you at anytime for photoshoots and you had to stay for its entire duration! you’re going to be such a cute little doll for them, aren’t you? they’d hate to hurt their precious model after all!

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere scenarios #x reader #AA i hope this isnt cringe ;;

[talesfromlissom]

Can you do a rodimus x human reader with the “We’re most definitely going to die.” “Hey now, stop being so negative.” “Yay! We’re gonna die!” prompt? Like maybe they got stranded on a aggressive planet or something?? I’ll be fine with anything you can come up with!

Fandom: Transformers (IDW)

Rating: M

Characters: Rodimus, mentions of other characters

TW: Blood, slight gore, Rodimus being Rodimus

Rules

Ask Box

A/N - I know that you said you wanted a human reader, but I ended up writing it so the reader can decide if they’re human or not. Lol sorry.

Summary - Let’s race through the asteroid field of a desolate and definitely not hostile planet, he said. Whoever loses will have to sit through Magnus’ debrief. He said. It’ll be fun. He said.

Spoiler: It was not fun, you’re probably gonna die. 

Rodimus considered himself the more reckless one of the relationship. And that wasn’t a lie at all. You were much more reserved in your fighting efforts. Always taking more calculated risks rather than just doing whatever idea popped into your head. Always weighing the good and the bad, always keeping a balance. He was certain there were some cases where you were the only reason why he was alive. Although, there was one small issue. 

You were competitive as hell. Thus, you were racing him, purely to decide if Rodimus would actually attend Ultra Magnus’ debrief. Or if you would go in disguised as him. You turned the idea down at first, he made the bet. Whoever lost the race around the next systems’ asteroid and planet had to sit through the meeting. 

You raced through an asteroid field around a desolate planet, Rodimus crashed the damn pod, landed on the planet and didn’t die somehow. 

And you had the audacity to laugh in his face. 

Well clearly you weren’t laughing now. He was. You weren’t.

You grunt when a shot hits the corner of the boulder you’re currently shoved behind, his frame which is utterly massive compared to you keeping most of the debris from falling onto you. You playfully slam a fist into his shoulder and turn around. You fire a shot at a NAIL, who had the stupid idea to get out into the open. She falls to the ground instantly, energon seeping into the sand as one of her companions drags her into cover. 

“Y’know, this is not exactly what I had planned when you said you wanted to race!” You shout, ducking behind the rock again. 

“Aw really?” He comes out of the rock this time, firing at a few of the NAIL(s) that dare to show their ugly faceplates. Not that matters of course, because he misses all his shots. He clicks his teeth at this, and ducks behind cover again. “That was the special secret part of this. Whoever gets more kills wins!”

You gawk at him. “Seriously? What the fuck(frag) Rodimus! I’m calling Magnus-” 

He tilts his head when you do so, he then grins upon seeing your face become more disappointed. It's obvious that you can’t contact the ship based on the expression alone. 

“We’re most definitely going to die.” You mumble, as another corner of the rock is shot off. 

“Hey now, stop being so negative!”  Rodimus shouts, while he rolls out from behind the rock. You shout his name, but he clearly isn’t listening. Two of the assailants are knocked down, one of them is dead clearly, but the other still moves, twitching and sparking before it finally stops. 

For a quick moment, there’s just wind. The sound of wind rustling the sand and beating against you two. “Huh-” 

Rodimus shouts when a bullet goes screaming past his legs, and more bullets come at him. You can hear the faint sound of some sort of rapid fire based weaponry. So you grab his wrist, and pull him towards the rock again. 

“Yay! We’re gonna die!” You cry, throwing your arms around for good measure. “You’re cleaning my damn energon cubes for the next 3 weeks, captain.” 

—

The Lost Light touches the ground nearly 10 minutes after. You suppose the meer size of the ship scares the NAIL(s) off. This assumption is based purely on the fact that they’ve stopped firing at you. You’re tied with kills as of right now, 3-3. Not that it matters anyways, on one hand, you’ll be missing the debrief, on the other hand, you’ll be spending more time getting yelled at by Magnus for being stupid. To be fair, all you have to do is bat your eyes(optics) at him and he’ll just let you off with a warning. 

Rodimus on the other hand…

“Magnus! Just in the nick of time!” Rodimus shouts, scrambling off the sand and bouncing towards the ship. “What took you so long?” 

You scoff at him, and follow. Not really bouncing, just grimacing at how hot you are now. You roll your shoulders and climb up the platform into the ship, placing your hands on your hips. 

Magnus exchanges a quick look with you and Rodimus. “You two, my office, now.” 

“Aw.” 

#rodimus x reader #rodimus prime x reader #//request #transformers #transformers idw #transformers x reader

[absolutedoorknob]

WAKE UP BESTIE THIS IS URGENT

So it’s late at night and I’m scrolling through the simplicity pattern website when, this is not a drill….

I saw House of the Dragon sewing patterns!!

Technically they’re not licensed or anything but if you know anything about sewing patterns for costumes, you know it gets pretty dang obvious.

Ok so it’s a pretty basic shape, and it looks like we’ve got an Alicent and a Rhaenyra dress based off of the styling of the models and the colours of the garments. They are not accurate to one single dress either of these characters wear, but it’s a great start, open to plenty of relatively easy modification (take this opinion with a grain of salt I have never modified a pattern) for creativity and maximum cosplay potential. I wish they’d make a Green Green Dress pattern, but I do know that designers and companies are limited to what pieces they can fit inside an envelope (this is the reason why in View B of Simplicity 1009 there isn’t a separate underskirt).

So let’s do some examination!

Starting with View B because it’s on the left, I said it looks like a Rhaenyra pattern mainly because of the color— young Rhae wears a lot of these dull golds (a desert gold if you will?) and beiges when she’s younger, when she’s not wearing red or her dragon-riding fits.

The neckline on the pattern could be easily adapted to either be higher like on the right or more angular like on the left.

The sleeves, however, are reminiscent of two other gowns, with these pattern pieces being good for both Rhae and Alicent.

I love a good open sleeve, and so do they. Also I swear there was another Alicent one with more open sleeves but google images was not kind to me.

Now on to View A! It’s pretty clear from how the neckline is with the trim plus the belt that this dress is modelled after this blue dress Alicent wears, which may or may not be her mother’s.

Now unfortunately the sleeve patterns do not have this amazing “ladder detail” but that would be pretty early to modify in, as well as to cut the neckline lower to add the top “ladder bit”.

This pattern also has Princess seams, like the other view, because it is a relatively simple way to get a good fit around the bust. Now, if you were making a “100% accurate with paper silk and I get the cops called on me because they think I stole it from HoTD’s wardrobe department” cosplay, these would have to be drafted out, because no dresses in the show have Princess seams, most likely because they are a relatively modern fitting technique and the shows in Westeros have historically influenced/inspired costuming. To get the fancy bodice like Alicent’s dress, the easiest way I could think of would be to trace the pattern piece twice, then chop one tracing up into sections with the sections being drawn on the other tracing (so you have a guide on how your puzzle fits together) and remember to include seam allowance if you do this, otherwise you will regret it.

Now this?? This is Daemon. Do not pass go, do not collect 200 dollars. Because most of the men on the show (or at least Daemon, Hardin when he’s not in armour defending his lady love— i mean Alicent, and Aemond) wear something similar to this, it’s a great bass with plenty to work with. The vest comes with pattern pieces for either no skirting or longer skirting, as seen in View B vs View A. Also, fun fact, the jacket under the vest/jerkin? It’s a crop top.

There’s a joke to be made here but I just can’t think of it.

These are McCalls patterns, and I have had fit issues in the past with them. Before picking out and cutting your size, I strongly recommend double checking the finished garment measurements, which should be printed on the back of the envelope. This will save you a lot of trouble and from having to buy the same pattern twice in case you cut out a size too small… I speak from personal experience.

Many way, that’s all folks! Personally, I can’t wait to see what Simplicity comes out with in the next few months (they release their new Halloween patterns in like September or something, and suffice to say I’m gnawing at my drywall), and I am praying for a Green Green dress pattern!

#costumes #hotd costume #hotd cosplay #pattern analysis #prayer circle for the green green dress #petition to name the colours for young rhae’s dresses desert gold #if someone could draw aemond in that crop-top jacket that’d be wonderful please and thank you #house of the dragon

[rosa67fenger]

hermes mini kelly 22

Model New Hermes Mini Kelly Moutarde Labellov Buy And Promote Authentic Luxury Classic colours like black, gold, etoupe and ivory are consistent bestsellers, and smaller Kellys and Birkins are presently making a comeback . The reality is, waiting lists at Hermès shops no longer exist. Demand for both styles outstrips supply, which means that inventory varies from retailer to retailer. Boutiques have their own fashion offering, with rare deliveries and little notice as to which colourways or finishes might be available to purchase at any given second. For this reason, clients who need a model new bag should enquire in retailer, and seek recommendation from Hermès gross sales experts. It’s widespread for shoppers to fantasise a few Birkin or a Kelly bag, owing to the cultural resonance of each Hermès shapes. Victoria Beckham loves a bright bag, and owns both a violet purple model in addition to a Multicolor model, which options three hues in a easy leather-based end. Not solely are sure leather-based sorts harder to come back by, but it’s also the dimensions, colour, and general design that makes a Kelly bag so exclusive—and elusive. These are a number of the rarer variations, owned by solely the luckiest and most persistent among Hollywood royalty. Available in a sensational range of colours together with classic black, sultry deep red and beautifully understated browns and greens, this is a bag for any event, and one to be seen with. Mid-sized, however super technical, Kelly seized a 9 for his efforts. Photo by Brent Bielmann/World Surf League)​​The boys found another cut up peak, this time with out crossing paths. https://phoenet.tw/replicas-hermes-bags/mini-kelly-bag.html Kelly got here unstuck on the exit, and Miggy’s wave went fats however let him squeak out the top. The Brazilian backed it up with a really dramatic drop at Pipe, but he wasn’t fairly deep sufficient. This Hermes Kelly 20 is accentuated with Gold interior. Mightychic offers a guaranteed authentic Hermes Kelly 20 HSS Mini Sellier bag featured in neutral Nata. Authentic Hermès Kelly Twilly The smallest and cutest mini Kelly ever made ! Called "Kelly Twilly" thanks to its silk link tied around the deal with The most unbelievable is that this ... " as it's extensively and affectionately recognized, is the best day-to-evening bag for the fashionable girl who travels mild. Please note that Pick up service can only be schedule for a next enterprise day. Normally small baggage was once reserved for evenings – when you asked me few years in the past, but I even have lately modified that. wikipedia handbags Even although they don’t fit much, I nonetheless can be proud of a wardrobe filled with Mini Kelly bags, in rainbow colors. When you look previous all of the frequent misconceptions, you’ll learn that it is really a precariously and delicately processed crocodile pores and skin of the Crocodylus Niloticus species. I love them a lot, for his or her color, form and heel height. They look like they're very high, however the comfort was never compromised – you'll have to trust me on this one. Not solely was it love at first sight, but I had to get them again in July, to assure I get them. You know how this stuff go, if you don’t seize the opportunity, you'll regret it afterward. Please understand that Kelly 28, Kelly 32 and Kelly 35 share the identical measurement hardwares. Curated edit of pre-owned Hermès luggage certain to make you turn heads on the street à la Jenner herself. Extensive Hermès assortment consists of the Picnic Kelly, after all. However, the reality that the Kelly Sellier is costlier than Retourne doesn’t mean that the Kelly Retourne is a foul investment. Both Sellier and Retourne Kelly’s maintain their worth very nicely and even promote for a premium on the resale market. She was subsequently loaned by MGM to work in several Hitchcock films, which might become some of her most critically acclaimed and acknowledged work. Kelly started filming scenes for her next film, The Bridges at Toko-Ri, in early 1954, with William Holden, for Paramount Pictures. The story, based on the novel by James Michener, is about American Navy jet fighters stationed to fight in Asia. Famed costume designer Edith Head did her costumes, with whom she had established a friendly relationship. The Birkin bag is a personal accessory ofluggageor atotebyHermèsthat is handmade in leather and named after actress and singerJane Birkin. The bag is presently in trend as asymbol of wealth due to its excessive price and use by celebrities. Birkins are the preferred bag withhandbag collectors, andVictoria Beckhamowns over one hundred of them. Costs escalate in accordance with the kind of leather-based and if unique skins were used. The baggage are distributed to Hermès boutiques on unpredictable schedules and in limited portions, creatingartificial scarcityand exclusivity.

#hermes mini kelly #mini kelly bag #mini kelly #mini kelly 2 #mini kelly ii

[kirkebyurquhart7]

replica handbags 15

Handbag Reproduction There are black and brown choices in every, however from there, colour choices vary by season. wikipedia handbags With fifty one evaluations, this Humble Chic bag has 4 out of five stars. Devon Camera Bag in Leather, which sells round $130 to $150.00, is out there in three colors and a leopard sample. It's comparable in style to the Saint Laurent Monogram Camera Bag . Where YSL sometimes has their logo, you presumably can put your monogram on the Devon bag (although the letters must be horizontal, not vertical like YSL's). Personally I have a tendency to draw the line at the copies discovered at Target and F21. Must have, to begin with, the size of the lovable, KAN I LOGO flower bag, with attractive colors, cute romantic ambiance, really like it! This is the micro mannequin of the KAN I LOGO handbag, which is the smallest measurement. Givenchy is a French fashion designing label established in 1952. It is a subsidiary of a multinational trend house and conglomerate LVMH. The label received enormous popularity with few of its baggage like Givenchy Antigona being liked by the celebrities like Miranda Kerr. The reputation of the bag went up and it got here on the want list of many ladies throughout the globe. They have replicas for Gucci, Tommy Hilfiger, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Chanel and quite a few different brands. If you're on the lookout for a Michael Kors reproduction handbag, or Gucci replica handbag, you’ll find it here. fake designer bags Their hottest promoting merchandise is their leather wallets or also referred to as the clutch. Comprising their top promoting can be the long handbag. Overall, it is a good retailer with an amazing collection, remember to test it out. I actually didn’t know, and that’s what inspired me to work on this evaluate. You identified lots of good reasons here and I assume you are right. Personally I'm not against replicas, nor am I deathly afraid of them and so on., I simply would not have one myself. Most gadgets could be returned up to 90 days after the acquisition as long as they're in new situation. The Rioni Designer Handbags & Luggage Signature Brown Small Boston Bag, which sells round $135.00, is similar to the Louis Vuitton Speedy 30. However, it merely takes inspiration from the bag rather than attempting to create an actual replica that will trick people into believing it is a designer bag. There's an extra pocket on the facet and the print is only comparable at first glance.

#fake designer bags #knock off designer bags #replica designer #fake designer #fake designer bags website #fake designer website #best knock off designer bags #designer replica website

[mcphersonjohannessen25]

replica designer handbags 3

How Does A Reproduction Purse Differ From An Authentic Handbag? It is preferable to own a well-made genuine design, even if your purse comes from a lower-end label, than to be caught carrying a forgery. If there's a name you actually love in purses, contemplate one of their smaller baggage. A small flap bag, hobo, or clutch can pack simply as much fashion for a smaller price tag. There are many phrases used for purses that simulate designer kinds. Inspired-by replicas have a barely different graphic, sample, or design than the original. Colors and accent details may also differ from the inspiring design. Replica bags, High Quality Replica Shoes, Replica electronics, Replica designer clothes and more. As everyone knows, China is the best and cheapest place to get the sources of wholesale reproduction branded merchandise. Because their merchandise are known for reasonable however top quality. The MKstore 666 is one of the most in style bag sellers on Dhgate. The MKstore666 offers with the most replica bag brands on the platform. They have replicas for Gucci, Tommy Hilfiger, Louis Vuitton, Prada, Chanel and quite a few different brands. The AliExpress has some extra shimmer on the flap, and while it isn't genuine leather, the style is very close at first look. Other kinds and shimmer-free colors can be found on the website, as properly. You can get this fashion close to, but not exactly, the same measurement because the Chanel Caviar Quilted Boy Flap according to the chart at Chanel Prices. J.Crew also has a couple of styles that mimic those from designers. The size is just like the constance mini, L18 x H15 x D6 cm. Because there are metallic fittings, the load of the bag won't be very light. But the shoulder strap design can make the bag not very drained after a day. The giant space of the bag is layered inside, which is very sensible. Some sellers on DHgate will fortunately offer you reductions however don’t force them or be impolite. Try to construct belief and be an everyday customer to enjoy discount advantages. Sometimes the bag might have deformities like torn, without a emblem or stain on the displayed image so it’s higher to ask for extra pictures in a personal message. One purpose why I love good Fake Louis Vuitton Sellers so much is that they're really transparent. wikipedia handbags They tell you the constraints of the knock-offs they do. From the feel of the leather-based on your bag’s trim, strap, down to the extent of expertise applied towards the composition of your bag, you will know your bag is pristine. We put in tons of effort and want to make certain that you won't ever be able to inform the distinction between our Louis Vuitton knock off bag and the real thing. After all, our costs are much lower than what you'd pay for an genuine Louis Vuitton handbag. They are additionally upfront about the materials, the quality of the development, and so forth and so forth. In other phrases, you’re going to be shopping for the right thing. In the trade, these are the indications for an “AAA” high quality. As you'll have the ability to well think about, since I just got out of school, I don’t have much of a finances for luxury fashions. My guide allows you to get off the radar so far as those individuals are concerned. If you possibly can pretend those folks out on the cheap, there’s no telling who you presumably can fake-out. The excellent high-quality high quality replicas are that you get status, recognition, and other people would see that you have got class and sophistication. This is not one thing that you just see ordinarily, especially with the upper finish copies. high quality designer replica handbags It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re in search of a faux Gucci bag or a Louis Vuitton replica. You should be so good that anybody who just walked out of a Gucci or Louis Vuitton store in Beverly Hills or an upper-end shop in Paris wouldn’t know the distinction. That’s the sort of quality you should be capturing for.

#replica designer handbags #replica handbags #high quality designer replica handbags #replica bags

[albrightmcintosh7]

replica handbags 2

How Does A Reproduction Handbag Differ From An Authentic Handbag? wikipedia handbags The strap can be divided into activity chain and rough belt two. One of the biggest options of Sunset, which has the traits of the organ bag, is that it could be installed without any problems. Must have, to begin with on the size of the adorable, lovely KAN I LOGO flower bag, with attractive colours, beautiful romantic ambiance, actually like it! This is the micro model of the KAN I LOGO bag, which is the minimal measurement. The cute and trendy Replica Chloé Handbags Pixie bag has been fascinating for a long time. The spherical shape and the bohemian type of the ambiance have been deeply loved by the sisters. Many occasions a purse is minimize from a single piece of alligator or crocodile skin so that the design of the bag is fluid and congruous. Finding such specific materials is a pricey and time-consuming process. Add features like 18 karat gold hardware, with an inside Japanese silk lining, and you have got created a really ornate handbag. The Convertible Mini Boxy Magnetic Closure Satchel Handbag from A New Day costs about $25.00 and appears to have a lot in frequent with the Coach Cash and Carry 22. They have the identical boxy satchel form that you could carry by the handles, or put on as a shoulder bag or crossbody bag. The Target satchel is available in six colours, including a multi-color. This could possibly be as simple as placing on a necklace or bracelet. However, should you truly want to compliment your fashion, you will need to add a new handbag to your assortment. My lifestyle is definitely not funded by some kind of trust fund. In rephandbag.com, the accessible assortment of Fendi imitations include not solely purses however moreover pockets and clutches produced from pure leather. https://phoenet.tw/ They are value it in the sense that they look low-cost and are easily reasonably priced. The replicas look the very same with no differences and they're a legitimate bag which can stand the test of time. To resolve the problem, we now have provide you with the b... I purchased this was for $484 which is a very affordable value for such a tremendous handbag. Even my trend addict friends can not inform the distinction between this and an unique Prada bag. The most enjoyable part is that it was available in more than 4 hundred colors and designs. There are a plethora of purses to choose from due to the prioritiz... If you've ever shopped for replica handbags earlier than, you most likely already know that the majority manufacturers simply want to generate income. Maybe this very aspect has even deterred you from the replica purse market. You have to learn the information under so yow will discover the final word quality in knock-off Louis Vuitton designer bags on the web. Often instances the standard is just too low for me to waste my money after I may save it and put it towards one thing that may last considerably longer. Plus, some of these copies are simply too similar to the actual factor. Respect for a designer and their designs is a big deal to me. Sunset brought the small two types, the material in addition to the traditional leather-based, crocodile pores and skin and fluorescent leather can choose.

#replica designer handbags #replica handbags #high quality designer replica handbags #replica bags

[inkykeiji]

all she want is payback for the way i always play that shit

characters: dabi | todoroki touya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaah yikes, sorry it’s so long???? the first part of a companion piece to i can take you there but baby you wont make it back; touya + reader have been fooling around for just under six months, our innocent lil good girl reader is the teeniest, tiniest bit more firm now. jealousy makes people crazy, yk how it is. touya is marginally softer for like, a second or two. | title credit: save that shit by lil peep

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), public sex, cheating, drug use, generally toxic relationship (possessiveness, jealousy), size difference, dubcon if u squint i guess???, the tiniest bit of cumplay

words: 11k

synopsis:

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

      ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰          ✰         

In early February, your parents finally tie the knot.

“Now it’ll be official,” you remember Touya whispering in your ear, the night before. “I will officially be your niichan,”

The wedding is gorgeous—elegant and classy, just like Rei herself. A wintertime wedding is so beautiful, you tell Rei as she’s busy being fawned over by several stylists, adding the finishing touches to her hair and make up. She’s absolutely stunning, a lacy ivory dress clinging delicately to her small frame, accentuating her natural curves. It glitters gracefully in the pale sunshine streaming through the large bay windows, sparkling any time she moves.

Touya doesn’t sit with his family. Their eyes sear into your flesh, although Touya keeps his stare pointedly in front of him, glaring at the alter. But you can feel their gaze on your skin, can feel their eyes travelling up your body slowly, critically, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It makes your skin crawl, both of your hands curling around Touya’s, a tangled knot of fingers resting in your lap.

You’ve never seen his other siblings before. Rei talks about them sometimes, but never when Touya’s around. You know that once every month, the three of them join Rei and your father for a family dinner, but you’ve never had the pleasure of attending.

You’d missed the first family dinner by fluke, held up late at the library studying for midterms. But every occasion after that, Touya had made absolute certain that you weren’t there. You hadn’t thought much of it the first time it happened, too enraptured and tangled up in Touya to care, grinding desperately against him in the backseat of his car as his tongue forced its way down your throat. But then it happens again, and again, and it becomes too coincidental to ignore.

“Why do we never go to those dinners with your siblings?” you’d tried to bring it up subtly the third time you guys skipped out on dinner, heart thudding in your chest and gentle voice quivering slightly.

Touya sighed, raking a hand through his hair roughly, eyes not straying from the road ahead of him. It’s complicated, he told you in a quiet voice, and you were so startled, so shocked by his sheer, unadulterated honesty, that you couldn’t find your voice, rendering you incapable of replying. Touya didn’t bother looking over at you, didn’t need to, to know that his response surprised you.

The other Todoroki’s are all strikingly beautiful—not that you expected any less. The one with pure snow-white hair and gunmetal grey eyes captures your attention the most, looking as if he’s around your age. He smirks at you when he catches your stare, giving you a small, polite nod—though you can see that tiny glint of mischief in his eye, the same glint you’ve seen in Touya’s a thousand times before. Choking on a surprised gasp, you rapidly avert your gaze, eyes snapping back to the pile of hands in your lap.

Touya notices, of course, because Touya notices everything. He doesn’t say anything, but his hand squeezes yours tightly, just a little too tight to be comforting, as his eyes dart to his siblings across the aisle, glare losing most of its heat when it meets his brother’s stare.

Tense shoulders relax, falling slowly with the measured breath he exhales as he turns back to glower at the alter.

You know other guests are staring at you—you can feel their eyes, too. You know the pair of you look more like a couple than siblings, know you should both probably put some distance between yourselves, at least try to keep some semblance of normalcy, some masquerade of a typical sibling relationship.

But Touya’s knee is bouncing, and he seems…unsure. It’s unsettling, really—Touya always seems so confident in himself—and you can almost feel the tense anxiety rolling off of him in heavy waves. So instead of scooting away from him or untangling your hands, your other palm finds a spot high on the thigh pressed tightly against yours, small fingers beginning to knead the flesh.

Sapphire eyes find yours, and he gazes down at you with an odd sense of fondness in his stare, the tiniest smile ghosting across his lips. It makes your chest swell with pride, makes you want to grab his face and crash his lips against yours, forces a tingling warmth to spread through your veins. It shouldn’t, but it does.

He barely lets you leave his side that day, keeps you glued to his body, an arm wrapped tightly around you. He’s a constant, looming, protective presence, glaring at anyone who dares to look at you for more than a second.

“Touya-nii,” you laugh a little while leaving the ceremony, watching as one of your cousins immediately averts their eyes. “That’s my cousin,”

“And I’m your brother,” he says flatly.

You suppose he has a point.

The two of you find your parents and the rest of Touya’s siblings—yours too, now, you guess—standing around a limousine, beckoning you over.

Rei begins to explain their protocol for pictures—and yes, you both have to come—but you aren’t listening. Their eyes are on you again, you can feel them, gliding up your skin, taking sharp note of the way Touya has you pressed flush against him, the way your arm is wrapped firmly around his waist, little fingers twisting in his suit jacket as your heart begins to speed up.

Touya can feel it, too, and he looks down at you in concern, his thumb caressing your shoulder, before he meets the stares of his siblings with a glare so ferocious you’re surprised it doesn’t turn them to ash on the spot.

They offer for you to ride in the limo with the rest of them, Touya cutting them off as he curtly declines their offer—no thanks, you’ll take his car instead and meet them there.

Rei tries to reason with him, but the pointed look he gives her causes her to trail off mid-sentence, holding his eyes for a moment before a sad smile settles on her face, nodding once.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Shinjuku Gyoen is nothing short of stunning in the wintertime. It had snowed this morning, around six AM, blanketing the garden in a soft layer of pure white powder, glittering delicately in the early afternoon sun.

Wide eyes drink it in as your face presses against the glass of the car window, your breath fogging it up. There’s something so whimsical and dreamy about snow, you think, about the way it softens even the sharpest of edges, the way it makes everything look prettier.

“You’re so cute,” Touya remarks, watching you from the corner of his eye, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I’ve never been here during the winter,” you murmur in response, still captivated by the grounds.

Rei and your father are immediately whisked away by several photographers to do their photos alone, leaving the rest of you to litter the parking lot.

But the moment they disappear from view, Touya’s got you trapped between his body and the cold metal of his car, lips moving against the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises, things that force soft whimpers from your lips, things that make your legs feel like they’re about to give out as heat pools deep in your belly. He knows, of course, smirks and teases you even more when he feels you squeeze your thighs together helplessly, tells you you’re his perfect little slut and vows to reward you for being so good as soon as he can.

His other siblings are staring, you try to tell him in a quiet, broken whine.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes, pushing his hips harder into yours, practically grinding his hard cock against your waist. “Let ‘em. I bet they’d love to watch me fuck you stupid, huh? What do you think about that, baby? You want them to watch?”

A pathetic sound hitches in your throat and you bury your burning face in his neck, a low, wicked laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

He doesn’t let up on the absolute filth spilling from his mouth until he can hear your father hollering in the distance, calling for the kids and waving the five of you over.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Pictures take too long, and Touya’s antsy by the end of it, picking anxiously at his cuticles as his knee bounces. He’s hauling you out of there the moment you’re officially released, a strong hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. You can hear his mother calling for him, and you look back at her desperately, mirroring her worried frown.

He doesn’t even wait for the rest of them to pile into the limo and leave, immediately rooting through his pockets the moment he’s in the safety of his own car, pulling out a little baggie of white powder. He can feel your wide eyes on him, watching his every movement, but his hands are beginning to shake, and panic is starting to rip viciously at his throat, and he just needs it all to fucking stop.

“There’s no way I could endure this shit sober,” he explains as he searches for something in the powder, cursing when he doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for. Frantic cobalt eyes dart around the car, landing on the glovebox, and he leans over you, hastily pulling a reflective object from the compartment.

It’s a mirror.

A tiny, circular mirror that he uses to tap out a line, fingers unsteady and breathing slightly laboured. The gentle sounds of his platinum credit card colliding with glass echo throughout the car.

Hovering over the small mirror, he pauses, a finger pressed to his nostril. He almost wants to tell you to look away, almost does, but he knows you’d disobey either way.

He doesn’t like doing drugs in front of you—you’re too precious, too pure and innocent and he doesn’t want you around anything that could potentially tarnish that. But he also can’t stand that look you get in your eyes, almost like you’re scared of him, on the rare occasions that you have caught him.

He nearly snaps at you when you quietly ask if you can help, if he needs someone to hold the mirror steady, currently balancing on the center console compartment, but you’ve got that goddamn look in your eyes, wide and terrified.

No, he says sternly, telling you that he doesn’t even want you near this stuff, much less touching it.

But cocaine highs don’t last long, he explains to you when you ask about the little round white pills clacking together in his pocket. You’re positive he shouldn’t be mixing drugs like that, positive that your apprehension and disapproval are written clearly across your face, based on the simmering look he shoots at you.

Don’t fucking start.

So you don’t. You swallow down your worries and sit nice and pretty and good for him, just like you’re supposed to.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

He only leaves you twice, briefly, throughout the entire night. The first is almost immediately after you enter the reception venue.

Depositing you near the head table, he tells you to stay put before he hurries away. You know where he’s going, what he’s about to do, an odd ache taking root and throbbing deep in your chest.

He’d scold you if he could see you, able to read your expressions like a fucking book, would tell you not to cry for him—he doesn’t need your pity. The words cut through your mind in a snarl, and you work hard to rid your face of the frown marring it; he’s already having such a difficult time today, and the last thing you want to do is upset him more with your concern.

Distraction, you need a distraction. Wide eyes scan the extravagant ballroom, all shimmering golds and beiges and crystal chandeliers, searching in a frenzy for something—anything—to rid your mind of images of pretty boys with inky hair and white, white, white.

You swear you hear your name, then Touya’s, hissed out in a sharp whisper, and your gaze lands on a small group of people not too far from you, with snow and fire for hair—the other Todoroki’s, huddled in a loose circle.

The air around you just feels off, you catch his sister saying in a low but frantic voice, eyes darting between her brothers. She sounds worried about you, you think, and it makes you feel weird. She shouldn’t be worried about you; Touya takes fantastic care of you. It isn’t any of their business anyway, you can almost hear Touya sneering in your head, and he’s right. You know he’s right.

Her brothers don’t look too keen on discussing the subject, especially the youngest, who keeps pulling at his collar and fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Well, why don’t you go and tell her that yourself,” the one with white hair says, grey eyes connecting with yours. She whirls around quickly, mouth snapping shut when she finds your face. Her lips morph into a smile half a second later, and she waves you over.

You avert your eyes, hands tangling nervously in front of you. No. You shouldn’t go. You really, really shouldn’t go. Touya told you to stay put, and you can’t bear to think—don’t even want to consider—how furious he’d be if he found that not only had you moved, but you had moved to talk to his siblings.

You must spend too much time deliberating, though, looking back up to find them advancing towards you, only a few feet away. Your heart’s pounding almost violently in your chest, breath accelerating with each step closer.

“Hi,” she’s saying warmly as she reaches you, causing you to subconsciously take a step back. “We haven’t had a chance to meet. I’m Fuyumi,”

You want to say your name, to introduce yourself politely, but your lips are sealed shut, only able to manage a small sound of affirmation.

“Shouto,” the youngest says, cold heterochromatic eyes glancing at you for a moment before looking away. “M’Shouto,”

“I’m Natsuo,” the man with white hair smirks down at you, eyes burning into yours.

Some of your anxiety melts away as you meet his stone eyes; there’s something comforting about the way that he has Touya’s smirk, Touya’s mischievous glint to his gaze, Touya’s playful lilt to his voice.

You feel like you can breathe again when you’re looking at Natsuo, so you keep your stare directed at him as you stutter out your name, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“You always miss the family dinners,” Natsuo accuses with a knowing smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Y’know, eventually, our parents are going to catch on,”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins, chills crawling on your skin. He knows?

And he says it so nonchalantly, so casually, as if he’s discussing the weather and not the fact that Touya deliberately kidnaps you to fuck your brains out in his car every single time they gather for one of those dinners. Fuyumi and Shouto look over at him with brows furrowed in confusion, but you choke on a gasp, coughing a little and nodding.

Touya returns then, saving you from having to respond.

“What’s wrong?” he’s asking immediately as his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you lean on him, heart finally beginning to slow.

“N-Nothing, niichan,” you wrap your arms around his, hugging them to your chest, and he squeezes you in reassurance.

“You sure, baby?” Sapphire eyes search your face as you tilt your head back to look up at him, scanning for any sign of distress.

He shouldn’t be using that pet name here, not in front of his blood siblings, not loud enough that any of the passing guests can hear him with ease.

He shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop it from sending sparks skittering up your spine, heat beginning to coil in your tummy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said you didn’t get some sort of twisted satisfaction at the loud gasp that leaves Fuyumi’s chest, or the sharp intake of breath Shouto chokes on, coughing as he tries to cover it up, all at the drop of that one, simple, four letter word.

Touya loves it, too—you can see it in the way his smirk grows into a full smile, a grin big enough to crinkle the edges of his eyes, can see it in his gaze, in the way his cobalt eyes almost sparkle at their reactions.

Your gaze flits back to the three people standing in front of you—your step-siblings, your mind corrects—eyes gliding over their faces slowly.

Natsuo looks thoroughly entertained, a stupid little grin stretched across his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Fuyumi and Shouto, on the other hand, look thoroughly uncomfortable, shifting a little in place, their faces screwed up with poorly masked disgust.

Touya’s smile drops the moment he looks back at them. Azure eyes scan the faces of his siblings cautiously, giving Natsuo one quick, sharp nod of acknowledgment before his gaze lands on the youngest. And the glare Touya gives him is nothing short of terrifying, practically snarling at the boy, a rough, dangerous sound that gets lodged deep in his chest. It makes the boy cower away, shuffling ever-so-slightly closer to his sister, who shakily glares back.

Lips tugging down into a frown, you look up at Touya, forehead creasing in confusion. He’s still glowering at the kid, eyes narrowing just a little before he huffs and turns away, leaving without speaking a word to any of them.

“Don’t you ever talk to them again,” he’s murmuring as he whisks you away, something malicious in his voice. “You’re my little sister,”

You nod obediently, promising him that you won’t, reassuring him that you didn’t even want to as you relay the entire situation. But he can see it, the curiosity swirling in your eyes, a question dancing on your tongue.

Because although Touya appears to be on seriously awful terms with his younger siblings, Natsuo seems to be some sort of exception. From the interaction you just witnessed, you’re able to deduce that something, some line of communication, must be present between Touya and Natsuo, evident in their shared looks and swift, discreet nods.

He sighs, irritation coating his voice as he demands that you spit it out already.

It makes you jump a little, but the words come tumbling out of your mouth the moment he commands them to, powerless to disobey a direct order.

“Does that include Natsuo?”

Your voice is so tiny that he barely hears you, brows knitting together. There’s an odd look in his eye as he observes you—something that isn’t quite jealousy, but close to it—nose twitching a little as he considers.

“Alone, yes,” he finally says. “With me around it’s fine, I guess. But you are not to speak to him alone, do you hear me?”

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Dinner is absolute torture, and the two of you can barely keep your hands off of each other. It starts innocently enough, discreetly enough, with palms on thighs, fingers brushing down arms, hands interlaced under the table. But the need to touch grows, and grows, and grows, these simple actions too teasing to satisfy that dull burning in the pit of your stomach, flaring a little more each time his fingers press into your thigh, or his thumb runs across your knuckles.

And you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t start acting up now, not while the two of you are seated at the head table, looking out amongst the guests—a few months ago, you would’ve never thought to do something so indecent, so dangerous, in such a public place. But you just can’t help it, you’re getting restless now, brain going hazy with thoughts of him as your fingers trail up his thigh and ghost over his lap.

“Getting bold, are we, princess?” his hand catches your wrist, holding your palm in place and grinding up into it. His voice is low, head tipped towards you, sapphire eyes dark. A breath catches in your throat and he smirks, an evil little quirk up of his lips, raising an eyebrow at you in expectation.

You’re lucky they’re seated in a straight line instead of a circle, he murmurs in your ear, Natsuo snickering beside him. “Imagine what your daddy would think if he could see you, acting like such a desperate little slut in front of all of these people,”

A soft, broken moan escapes your lips without your permission, thighs squeezing together in an attempt to combat the heat pooling in your panties. Someone down the line of the table says something, but you’re too enticed by Touya to hear them, your father writing off whatever the remark was with an easygoing smile.

“Oh, those two are always in their own little world,” you hear him dismiss, voice sounding muddled and distant.  

“Be a good girl and sit still,” Touya growls in your ear, grip tightening to near bruising.

“But niichan,” you whine, much too loud, gazing at him with glazed, blown eyes. “Niichan,” you repeat, leaning forward to whimper in his ear, fingers flexing around the bulge in his trousers. “N-Need you,”

“If you can’t behave, niichan won’t let you cum later,” he breathes, though his voice is stern, heavy with the weight of the threat.

A pout forms on your lips as he releases your wrist, firmly placing your hand back in your lap and holding it there for a moment, a silent warning for your wandering fingers to stay put.

But he’s up and out of his chair the instant dinner’s over, moving so quick his seat wobbles a little as he grasps your hand tightly in his, practically yanking you up and dragging you along behind him.

The best thing about these fancy venues, he’s telling you as he strides through the halls, cerulean eyes searching for something, is that they have single person washrooms.

The granite is cold on your cheek as Touya shoves you up against the wall, head bouncing a little as it whacks against it.

You whine and he laughs, a cruel, piercing sound echoing off the walls.

“Aw, baby,” he coos contemptuously. “Did that hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pain radiating through your cheek.

“Poor little thing,” he hisses, lips against your ear as his hands begin to bunch up your dress, gliding over your silk covered thighs, hands fisting in the material as he goes. Pushing it up around your waist, he leans back, hands travelling over the globes of your ass and kneading hard enough to make you cry out.

“You’re a slutty little brat, y’know that?”

Deft fingers hook in the waistband of your thong, all delicate baby pink lace, Touya snickering about how much of a whore you are, wearing such skimpy, slutty panties, as he lets the elastic snap back against your skin.

A little shocked gasp escapes your lips as he begins tugging the dainty fabric down your thighs—you had expected him to merely push them to the side, but he forces you to take them off entirely, stuffing the soaked material in his pocket.

“You think you can just tease niichan like that and get away with it?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head against the wall.

“No,” he murmurs, hips grinding against your bare ass. “Good girls don’t tease their niichans without delivering, do they?”

“No,”

“On your knees,” he orders, spinning you around and stepping back just enough to allow you to sink to the floor. “Get my cock wet,”

Little fingers work quickly, eager to obey, as they undo his pants, practically salivating as you free his cock from its confines.

“Your cock’s so pretty, niichan,” you breathe, eyes glittering with pure, potent desire as you take it in your hands, tongue darting out to trace the prominent veins.

“No teasing,” he growls, a hand knotting in your hair. “I wanna see you choke on it,”

You nod as best you can, mouth instantly falling open, reduced to nothing more than a wet, warm little hole for him to stuff.

And then he’s shoving it down your throat, the hand fisted in your hair holding your head still, and you gag around it almost immediately, working to force you jaw open even more.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he rasps out, voice echoing off the walls of the washroom.

The praise has your heart soaring, has you sucking hard around him as he thrusts into your mouth, coating his cock in thick saliva and desperate to hear more. It’s intoxicating, every quiet moan you manage to pull from him, every breathless good girl that falls from his lips, makes you feel lightheaded and heady and dizzy for more.

His hips pump a few more times before he’s pulling you off his cock completely, devious smirk forming on his lips at your whine of protest, and commanding you to go bend over the sink.

Calloused hands are bunching your dress up around your waist again, toe of his shoe kicking at your inner ankles and forcing your feet further apart.

He doesn’t bother stretching you out, not because he doesn’t have the time to, but because he simply doesn’t want to. It’s truly one of his favourite things, to see tears fill your eyes while his cock stretches your cute little pussy, and he knows you love it too, don’t you?

Yes, niichan, of course you do.

His cock glistens with your saliva, sufficiently wet that it slides in easily enough, with minimal pain for him. And the soft groan he lets out as he watches your little hole struggle to take him, paired with your sweet little whimpers of his name, is nothing short of gorgeous.

It has your pussy fluttering around him, pulling a breathless chuckle from his lips as he fills you to the hilt, hips pressed against your ass.

And then doesn’t fucking move.

Your brow furrows, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You try to fuck yourself back on him, but he’s too quick, hands stilling your hips immediately and tutting in disapproval.

“Niichan,” you whimper. “N-Niichan, please fuck me,”  

“Do you think you deserve it?” he’s asking, tongue tracing the shell of your ear as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “After the way you behaved at dinner?”

“M’sorry,” you whine, wiggling back against him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stops them, grip tightening. “Couldn’t help it, wanted you so bad,”

“Of course you couldn’t,” he smirks, hips starting to move slowly, teasingly, stilling after only three simple thrusts. A hand reaches down and finds your clit, forcing a gasp from you as his thumb brushes over it, back and forth, back and forth, featherlight grazes that have you arching back into him, trying to press further into his touch.

“Think you can cum just like this for me?” he asks, beginning to thrust shallowly again, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging against that spot buried deep inside your cunt, that spot he knows so well, then nudging your cervix. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, breath starting to come out in short little pants.

“Then do it,” he demands in a whisper, eyes still holding yours. “Show niichan how pretty you look, cumming all over his cock,”

And the combination of his deep, rough voice rumbling against your back as praises tumble from his lips, his thumb and cock, and the fact that anyone within a fifteen foot radius of this washroom could probably hear you, has you cumming within minutes with a sharp cry of Touya-nii!  

Touya laughs at how pathetically quickly you came, about how easy it is to have you creaming on his cock, heat seeping into your cheeks as you try to look away.

“My turn,” he breathes, yanking your head back up by your hair, fingers finding root in the intricate updo that has begun to fall apart. “And I wanna see your face as I fuck you, so keep your damn head up,”

And then he’s slamming into you with enough vigour to propel you forward, face pressed against the mirror, toes barely touching the ground. Every moan and whimper and mewl he forces from your throat fogs up the glass, leaving tiny glistening drops of condensation as they fade.

You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes open, to watch him as he fucks you, because he always looks so damn pretty.  

He’s stupidly attractive, with his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, first few buttons undone and collar popped, revealing his sharp collarbone, smooth ivory skin stretched taut across it. Ebony hair clings to his forehead and neck delicately, coated in sweat, and he’s emitting the most glorious noises, heavy pants and little broken whines, peppered with praise.

Nails bite into your flesh as he holds you in place, hips snapping relentlessly, your fingers curling around the porcelain sink.

“You want niichan’s cum?” he growls in your ear, eyes burning into yours. You whimper in response, nodding against the mirror. “Yeah? Then fucking beg for it.”

Pleads are spilling from your lips immediately, nothing but senseless babbling as he pounds into you.

“Please, niichan, please, need it, your cum, stuff me with your cum,”

“That’s it,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “I want every single person in this godforsaken hall to hear you, I want every single person to know how much of—” he cuts himself off with a shuddery curse. “—How much of a slut my baby sister is,”

“Pretty please,” you whine out the words, eyes rolling back in your head. “Fill me up with your cum, niichan, I-I want it,”

His hips still just as your cunt clenches around him, cockhead pressed tightly against your cervix as he fills you with hot, thick ropes of cum.

He pulls out a few moments later, and you uncurl your fingers from around the rim of the sink, wincing at your appearance; lips bitten raw, hair beginning to fall from it’s elegant style, body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

You look back at him to find him already staring at you, expectantly, impatiently, hands jittery as he quirks his head towards the door.

“We can’t leave together,” he says, as if it’s obvious, even though you stumbled into the washroom together twenty minutes ago.

He needs more.

You nod, slow and dumb, staggering a little on your trembling legs. Grasping the doorknob you pause, turning to look at him again.

“What?” he asks as he searches through his pockets, not bothering to glance at you. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Um...” you shift nervously from foot to foot, lip caught between your teeth.

He looks over at you sharply, brows rising as if to ask why are you still here?

“M-My panties, niichan,”

Oh.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, brows relaxing.

“What about them?”

“Well, I—I can’t return to the reception without them,”

“Oh, and why not?”

You pause, blinking a few times, at a loss for words. Why not? Because you can feel his cum beginning to trickle out of you, mixing with your juices and dribbling down your inner thigh?

“Exactly,” he says, when you take too long to reply. “Now be a good little girl and go. I’ll be out soon,”

       ✰          ✰          ✰

You don’t go back into the ballroom, terrified that you’ll be ambushed by his—your—siblings again. Collapsing in one of the plush chairs, you cross your quivering legs tightly in a desperate attempt to keep the cum oozing out of you from getting on your dress.

People are looking again, probably think you’re drunk based on the way you teetered over to the seat, or the way your hair’s begun to come undone from it’s intricate updo, wispy strands framing your face.

He returns from the washroom only a few minutes later, eyes finding you immediately. There’s a stupid, smug smirk on his face, thinks it’s so cute that he fucked you so good you can’t walk, can’t even get up, that you need your niichan to help you.

A pout forms on your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Not funny,”

“Very funny,” he chuckles as his hands snake under your armpits, hauling you to your feet. You stumble a little, bumping into him and he laughs again, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and propping you up against him.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,”

“Oh, niichan,” you murmur and he pauses, glancing over at you. You reach up, your thumb swiping across his nose to collect excess white powder.

“Thanks,” he breathes, winking at you. You hum noncommittally, about to rub your thumb across his white dress shirt to clean it when he catches your hand, bringing your thumb to his lips and licking it instead.

It isn’t discreet. It’s slow and deliberate, tongue sticking out of his mouth, flattening it against your thumb and dragging it up, from base to tip. You’re sure someone saw that, but you can’t be bothered to care, not when another bout of intense heat rushes to your core, forcing you to squeeze your legs together, trying in vain to keep Touya’s cum from seeping out, from your juices traveling down your leg. A soft whimper leaves your lips, breathing beginning to accelerate as your eyes bore into his, now half-lidded and dark. He holds your gaze for a moment before something snaps.

“We need to go,” he says, voice firm with no room for negotiation. “Now.”

And, God, his voice is rough and raw and fucking dripping with desire. It’s got you nodding before he’s even finished speaking, a flock of butterflies invading your stomach at the downright sinful grin he gives you in response. Such a good girl for him.

Despite the fact that you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm, you nearly moan at his look alone, the urge to kiss him burning through your veins and alighting your entire body in direct juxtaposition to the shivers his eyes just sent rippling across your skin. The insatiable need overwhelms your senses, and it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous, how captivated he has you, entirely wrapped around his slim finger and hanging on his every word, how you’re positive that, in that moment, you’d do anything he asked.

You wobble awkwardly in your heels, legs still shaking and having trouble keeping up with Touya’s swift pace. You’re about to ask him to slow down just a little so you don’t break an ankle, when you bump into your father.

Who just so happens to provide you with the perfect excuse to leave early. You can practically see the gears clicking into place in Touya’s mind, sapphire eyes glittering as a sinister smirk spreads across his face.

Your father’s eyes widen as he observes your appearance, strands of hair sticking to your clammy face and eyes half-lidded, chapped lips beginning to crack, leaning heavily against Touya and seemingly too weak to stand on your own.

“Hi dad,” you greet hoarsely, wincing a little at how grating your voice sounds.

He frowns immediately. “Jesus, sweetheart, are you feeling alright? You look…” he trails off, forehead wrinkling with worry.

“Oh, she’s not feeling too good,” Touya says softly, smoothly, just the right amount of concern and compassion in his tone.

“Oh no,” your father breathes, frown deepening. “That’s terrible,” he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to tough out the rest of the reception?”

You begin to croak out an answer, but Touya speaks over you.

“She’s burning up, sir,” he informs him, and it isn’t a lie—not exactly, anyway. Technically, if your father were to feel your forehead, your body temperature would be above average, a result of Touya fucking the absolute life out of you a mere ten minutes ago.

Touya looks down at you with painfully sympathetic eyes, but you can still see that little glint of mischief, buried under all of that artificial benevolence.

“Maybe I should take her home?” Touya muses, looking back at your father, mimicking his anxiety effortlessly.

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “I think that’s the best thing to do,” his eyes dart to yours. “You really don’t look well,”

Oh, you’re sure you don’t. Resting a little more against Touya, you play up the symptoms a bit, whimpering quietly as little fingers twist in his shirt, nuzzling your face against his side. A soft noise of endearment sounds at the back of his throat, large hands readjusting your body to support you better.

Another whimper falls from your lips, but this time it isn’t from pretending you’re ill. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, slimy and cool as it drips down your inner thigh, and a sick thrill shoots through your body, abused cunt throbbing greedily.

Rei comes up behind your father then, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes flitting between the two of you carefully.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m gonna bring this little princess home,” Touya explains, nodding his head at you in indication as he speaks. “She isn’t feeling very well, poor thing,”

And it’s scary, scary how terrific he is at lying, how easily he slips into that niichan role, the one painstakingly crafted and flawlessly maintained around your parents, the one he’s perfected at this point.

Rei doesn’t say much, only cooing in sympathy, remarking that it’s such a shame, but your father’s eyes soften. “Such a good big brother,” he praises, clapping a hand on Touya’s shoulder.

Touya has to consciously work to smother the smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he responds.

“You have no idea,”  

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Your parents don’t come home that night, opting to go straight to the airport from the venue, embarking on their honeymoon immediately.

It’s nice, playing house with Touya, having the entire place completely to yourselves. He’s been home an awful lot these past few weeks, more than he ever has in the past, and you get to experience things you never could before.

Every morning and every night, you cook breakfast and dinner together. You go grocery shopping together, wash the dishes together, fold the laundry together, all while stealing kisses in between; little domestic things you didn’t really do with your parents around.

You spend every night that they’re away in his bed, being fucked into his mattress, surrounded by the smell of him—campfire and Marlboros and expensive cologne—absolutely full of him in every sense.

You wake up in the mornings with his hand between your legs, playing with your cute little clit, or his cock pressed against your ass, grinding until you wake up. You have sleepy, slow morning sex while you’re both still half asleep, and it’s the most gentle he’s ever been. It consists of lazy, sloppy, messy thrusts against each other, hips meeting halfway—just grinding until he gets too impatient, though he usually lets you cum two or three times before he finally flips you over, trapping you under his body and slamming his hips into you, growling and grunting, your legs pushed up and folded on either side of you.

You get to fuck in the kitchen—not that you hadn’t before, but this time you get to take it slow. He eats you out while you sit on the counter and then fucks you into oblivion and it’s nasty, it’s disgusting, it’s so good. He cums so much that it’s leaking out of you, onto the counter, his chest heaving as he observes it with an odd little smile and a soft “fuck,”

And you get to fuck in the bathtub, that big jacuzzi in your parents room, water and bubbles sloshing around as you bounce on his cock, loud cries echoing off the walls.

It’s going great, until the last weekend of the honeymoon, a mere few days before your parents are supposed to return.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

A party.

Keigo tries to talk him out of it, tries to at least talk him out of letting you stay.

“She shouldn’t be here,” you hear Keigo hiss under his breath as guests begin to fill the house, Touya snorting in retort.

Keigo doesn’t think you should be around any of this at all—there’s no reason you should have to witness this shit, you catch him growling, gold eyes blazing. No, not a poor innocent babygirl like you, this isn’t the place for you.

But Touya’s too stubborn, too selfish to let Keigo take you out for the night. He knows he’s right, would rather not have you around these people, but he doesn’t have a fucking choice. The thought of you being out of his sight, out with another man, has anxiety rising in his throat, panic clawing at his chest.

As a result, you spend the entirety of the party being passed between Touya and Keigo. There are so many girls here, so many people you don’t know, wide eyes scanning the living room as your fingers twist in Keigo’s hoodie.

Niichan’s busy, Touya tells you, when you ask why you can’t just stay with him, when you ask where he keeps disappearing off to. Niichan’s working, don’t you know? Be a good girl and stay with Kei.

You can tell that Keigo isn’t happy about it. He coos softly when you timidly ask if he’s upset that he’s stuck babysitting you all night, in the middle of an apology when he cuts you off.

“It isn’t your fault, songbird,” he murmurs, gentle fingers tracing the curve of your face.

He’s even angrier at Touya when he takes that first girl back to his room, because the look on your face—the way it crumples accompanied by a soft, hurt sound caught at the back of your throat—kills him.

And it isn’t like you don’t know about his side whores. You do. They’re customers, he had snapped at you, the only time you had ever asked about it. But it’s an entirely different thing to actually have to witness it with your own eyes.

You can’t help the flare of jealousy that rises in your chest every time he takes a girl by the hand and leads them to his bedroom. It stings, burns, feels like a fire’s been lit in your chest, filling your lungs with dense smoke and making it hard for you to breathe.

Keigo tries his best to distract you, gentle fingers on your cheeks turning your face towards him, golden eyes softening in sympathy. He keeps you as preoccupied as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Your eyes are drawn to Touya every time he’s in the room—an automatic, instinctual reaction you couldn’t control even if you wanted to.

And every time you watch a girl giggle into his ear, or hop up with him, that fire smoldering in your chest blazes, rages, has you wheezing and hissing and pressing a palm flat against yourself, a desperate attempt to get the pain to stop.

Tomura’s here, too, though he’s sitting in a shrouded corner on his phone, the light from the screen reflected on his pale face, colours flashing intermittently. He looks absorbed with whatever he’s doing on there—probably playing a game, Keigo tells you, but why are you interested, anyway?

You don’t know, you aren’t sure, you can’t exactly put it into words. He terrifies you, but he sparks a morbid curiosity in you, too. He’s so silent, private, almost inobtrusive; and yet Touya never lets you anywhere near him. Your eyes keep flitting his way, as if trying to will something to happen, staring at him longingly and hoping he’ll look up from his phone for a split second and catch your gaze, that he’ll somehow magically get the hint that you’re desperate and dying to talk to him, and take the first step.

But it doesn’t happen.

Touya is thoroughly unimpressed each and every time he finds you sitting on Keigo’s knee or lap, leaning back against his chest as he speaks with that easygoing lilt that is so distinctly him, but there isn’t much he can do. The third time he returns to take you from his friend he can tell you’re beginning to get tired, can see it in your eyes, in the way you’re cuddling into a warm chest. He debates sending you to bed right then and there, but you protest, little hands tangling in Keigo’s hoodie.

“Aw, she’s alright for a little more, isn’t she?”

Touya’s sharp jaw clenches twice and he exhales slowly through his nose, eyes darting between your faces.

“Fine,” he says, although it doesn’t seem fine.

And you are exhausted, straddling Keigo’s hips, face pressed into his shoulder and hot breath evening out softly against his neck. Fingers ghost up and down your spine nonchalantly as Keigo talks softly to the people around him, his laugh vibrating against your chest and filling you with an odd, tingly sensation, a warmth that seeps through your body. You snuggle a little closer to him and he coos, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him.

“Don’t wanna go to bed with him,” you whisper, words muffled by his skin.

Keigo hums in question, squeezing you once. “Who, songbird?” he presses his lips to your ear as inconspicuously as he can, lidded gold eyes lazily scanning the room for your brother. “Touya?”

You nod sluggishly, little fingers curling in his hoodie, a silent plea not to let you go.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Keigo says softly with a small chuckle, but it sounds off to your ears—sad, even.

“Don’t wanna,” you repeat, pout evident in your voice. “Wanna stay with you,”

You wouldn’t have noticed the way his chest hitches at those four words if you weren’t pressed flush against it. But you feel it, feel his breath getting caught in his throat, reverberating against you as he clears it quietly. Unexpected guilt sours your mouth, makes your stomach turn to a block of heavy lead, weighting your body down.

“You know you can’t, sweetheart,” he finally responds, voice cracking just a bit, right on that last word. “Don’t hurt your niichan like that, he loves you,”

No he doesn’t, you want to say, but you can’t seem to force the words from your mouth, opting to shake your head instead, eyes shutting tightly against the burn of tears.

“He does,” Keigo says, more sternly this time. “Don’t doubt that,”

But you’re not so sure. If Touya loved you—really loved you—would he have disappeared no less than three times tonight, each with a different girl, leading them into his bedroom with those dark glittering sapphire eyes while they gaze up at him like he hung the fucking moon himself?

Honestly, is that even a question you want answered?

You keep your face buried in Keigo’s chest to block it out, to keep yourself from watching your big brother as he flits around the room, handing out discreet baggies in exchange for ridiculous wads of cash and talking in hushed voices, in code, to men who look much too old to be at a house party.

Eventually, Touya returns to retrieve you, bending down and speaking softly.

“It’s time for bed, princess,” A hand pets your head, and you flinch away.

“Hey,” you feel the couch dip beside you as he sits down. “Look at me,”

You’re shaking your head, trying in vain to press even closer to Keigo, but that doesn’t stop Touya from reaching out and gripping your chin, forcing you to face him.

Crystal eyes search your face carefully, wide and alert—he always works sober, you found out. He can tell you’re upset, can see it written plain as day across your face, eyes glassy with your lips set in a deep pout, eyebrows pushed together. Exhaling harshly, he closes his eyes, fingers rubbing at his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon,” he says lowly, wrapping a hand around your bicep and tugging as he stands.

“No,” you nearly growl, shaking your head and viciously pulling your arm from his grip.

Touya stares at you for a moment, like he cannot believe you just had the audacity to tell him no, before he speaks, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “What did you just say?”

Keigo’s sitting up straighter now, more alert as your body subconsciously curls into his chest, cowering away from your big brother. “Y-You heard me,”

Snorting in disbelief, Touya raises his eyebrows as his tongue runs along the front of his teeth, huffing out the remnants of a chuckle before his smile drops completely, blue fire blazing in his dark eyes.

“Get up,” he snarls, hand in a vice grip around your arm as he yanks harshly. The force of it has you practically falling off Keigo’s lap, though Touya catches you roughly before your knees hit the hardwood, hoisting you up by your arm to stand on unsteady feet.

“Move.” He instructs, giving you a shove in the vague direction of his bedroom. “Now.”

His chest bumps into your back and you stumble forward, yelping softly. He keeps pushing like this, strong hand clasping your shoulder so tightly you’re sure you’ll have five little bruises in the shape of his fingerprints in the morning, driving you to walk with the sheer force of his body.

“No,” your whispering, trying desperately to turn back and look at him as you approach his door, tears flooding your eyes, frantically shaking your head and trying your damnedest to plant your feet, heels digging into the floor in an attempt to stop him from pushing you forward.

“You really gonna say no to me a second time tonight? In less than fifteen minutes? You think that’s wise, baby?”

You don’t—of course you don’t. It’s probably one of the stupidest things you could do, in this situation.

But even though you know, know this isn’t a smart move, know you shouldn’t be testing him like this—challenging him like this, especially in front of so many people—you’re powerless to control the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I don’t want to sleep in a bed that’s been infested by your whores,”

They come out as a hiss—you don’t mean for them to, but they do, voice quivering under the combined weight of your fury and fear.

That gets him to stop, entire body going rigid. Icy dread rushes through your veins, panic clawing its way up your throat, forcing uneven breaths through your parted lips. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you brace yourself for the impact of his bellowing voice, shoulders tensing in anticipation for the blow, for him to really snap.

Except then he starts laughing, his hand relaxing around your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he backs you up against his bedroom door, caging you in with his body.

“That’s what this is about?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you blink twice in disbelief, prompting hot tears to finally spill over. “I—Wh-Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being silly, princess,”

It hurts, stings like three massive spikes just shot through your heart, causes a tiny whimper to sound from deep in your throat, chest hiccupping with pathetic little half-sobs.

“Sil…Silly?” Time feels as if it’s slowed, your sluggish brain having trouble comprehending the situation unfolding.

His lips pull down into a frown, eyes narrowing slightly as he regards you with extreme precision. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice sounds far away, muffled, like you’re underwater and he’s speaking to you from above the surface. “Hey—”

Your head’s shaking again, in slow, delayed motions from side to side. “No,” you whisper. “No.”

You feel nauseous, and the proximity of his presence is only making it worse, making you feel like you could hurl at any moment. Little hands find purchase on his chest and push, stomach lurching painfully as your head spins.

He catches your wrists easily, holding them together in one large hand, his other coming to grip your chin and force you to look at him.

Thick silence settles between the two of you as Touya’s eyes study your face slowly, noting the tears flowing steadily down your face, the way your breath stutters with sobs you’re so desperately trying to hold back, the way your entire body trembles.

“Are you seriously upset over this?” he asks, laughing a little.

Your gaze holds his, tears casting a thick, gleaming screen across your eyes.

“Yes, Touya,” you whisper, wishing your voice didn’t sound as small and weak as it does. “I’m seriously upset,”

That’s the first time you’ve used his first name—just his first name, void of any honorific—in a long, long time.

It gets him to pause again, his usual and well-worn mask of passivity melting away for just a second as shock crosses his face. Then his features are hardening again, brows knitting together and creasing his forehead, eyes narrowing into near slits.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he spits harshly, the words cutting into your flesh. “You know none of them mean a thing,”

“Then why do you fuck around with them?” you shoot back almost immediately, voice fading into a whisper.

He glares at you, as if you’re wasting his precious time with such childish questions when he’s told you this already, and you can see the blue fire simmering in his eyes.

“It’s late,” he says curtly, voice sounding off to you. “You need sleep.”

You try to fight him on it, but he’s too quick, reflexes too swift, and he shoves you into his room, door slamming shut less than a second later.

Tears obstruct your vision as you stumble around, finally finding his desk chair and collapsing heavily. You don’t even bother trying to open the door, know it’s locked without having to hear that soft click! as the lock turns into place.

He’s right—it is late, well past three in the morning, and you are utterly exhausted, drawing your knees up to your chest and curling up in the plush chair.

But no matter how tired you are, you absolutely refuse to sleep in his bed. The party’s dying down, you can hear Touya’s muffled farewells as guests begin to leave while you fade in and out of consciousness.

You think you might’ve heard Keigo say something, might’ve caught the word stay, might’ve detected the annoyance laced in Touya’s voice as he responds, but you’re too worn out to reflect on it.

At some point in the night, Touya reenters his room, chuckling a little at your antics and carrying you to his bed.

The move wakes you, and you weakly protest—no, you don’t want to be in this bed, please, just let you go sleep in your own bed—but Touya ignores you entirely, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tightly to his chest.

It’s then that the tears start up again, salt staining your puffy cheeks, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he hushes you, nimble fingers combing through your hair. “I’m here, right here,”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Touya over these past few weeks, it’s that he becomes marginally softer in the middle of the night. Your fingers twist in his t-shirt, trying in vain to pull yourself impossibly closer, Touya making a soft noise akin to a coo in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you, niichan’s got you,”

You hate it. You hate that he’s the only person you want comforting you right now, as you lay in his bed, surrounded by the smell of cheap perfume and clinging in desperation to him, needing him close, needing his body heat warming you and his hands on you. You hate the way your sobs come harder the more he soothes you, the heavy ache in your chest almost bruising, crushing your lungs and making it near impossible to breathe.

But you crave his comfort nonetheless. It’s a special kind of comfort, one that’s difficult to describe, one that only comes from the love and adoration and protection of a big brother.

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

There’s something in his voice that makes you stop, pause, his words reverberating in your mind. He sounds almost like…like he’s upset over this fact, like he wishes that you didn’t have all of him.

You want to press for more, to probe and prod and pick away at it, but exhaustion finally claims you, rendering you incapable of speech, your tongue moving sluggishly in your mouth as you desperately try to form words.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

It’s grey when you wake, only a few hours later, eyes sticky and dry from lack of sleep. Your head is pounding, feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, and a painful lump forms almost immediately in your throat when you get a whiff of sickly sweet artificial vanilla, then another of intense, synthetic citrus.

The tears are starting up again, collecting in your eyes and clouding your vision. It makes you nauseous, makes your skin crawl and your chest burn as your throat fills with acid. The tears sting, but you blink hard to keep them at bay. You will not cry, not in front of him, not in his bed surrounded by the remnants of those other girls, not again. You refuse to give them the satisfaction.

You spring up quickly, halfway through climbing over Touya’s body when a strong hand latches onto your wrist.

“No,” Touya mumbles, face half buried in his pillow. “Stay,”

“No,” you whisper, pulling yourself free from his grasp and hurrying out of his room. You can smell them on your clothes, on your skin, and it makes you want to scrub your body under scalding water until it’s raw.

Everything hurts—it hurts so much it feels like your chest is collapsing in on itself, like you can’t breathe, gasping for air as you stumble onto the porch, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stop and realize you have nowhere to go.

Touya has cut you off from all of your friends at this point; any spare time you had was now claimed by him.

And that’s exactly why he doesn’t bother rolling out of bed to follow after you, isn’t worried about you going anywhere, knows you can’t leave him, no matter how badly you want to. No, not a precious little girl like you, with nowhere to find refuge.

You sit down heavily on one of the front steps, vision so blurry with tears you’re barely able to make out the figure advancing towards you. They’re finally escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you blink twice, trying to clear them. Your chest stutters under the force of a sob you’re desperately trying to hold back, clapping both hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence it.

“Hey—oh no,” Keigo breathes the moment your watery eyes look up at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, causing more tears to leak out as your shoulders shake, whole body trembling from the force of your sobs, poorly muffled by your palms.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” he’s saying as he rushes to sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders tightly.

Keigo’s the closest thing you have to a friend now. And really, you should be embarrassed by the way you practically fling yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your hands form fists in his t-shirt. He’s a little startled by your borderline violent reaction, but he recovers quickly, arms encircling your body and pulling you against him.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing your back while the other pets your hair. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here,”

And you hate the way his words almost directly mirror Touya’s, the way his low sultry voice turned gentle and soft as he carded deft fingers through your hair echoing almost painfully in your head. But Keigo lets you cry, lets you stain his t-shirt with salty tears and saliva until you’ve got nothing left, never stopping his compassionate motions.

“You…Stayed the night?” you pull back a little, the fact that he’s still here, blonde hair all mussed up from sleep, finally dawning on you.

“Well, yeah,” he says, a little bashful as he looks away and ducks his head. “Wanted to make sure you were alright, s’all. Last night was…” he trails off, frowning. “What happened?”

Golden eyes search your face, his forehead crinkling in concern. A beat of silence passes.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but…” kind fingers move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll feel better if you let it out, promise. And, not to brag or anything, but I’m preee-tty good at this kind’a stuff,” he chuckles a little.

“Got in a fight,” you whisper, eyes staring intently at the brick wall behind his shoulder as your chin trembles slightly, memories of last night flashing through your mind.

“A fight? With Touya?” Keigo moves his head a little, forcing his face into your field of vision and catching your face with tender fingers when you try to look away.

“Yeah,” tears are beginning to well up in your eyes as you think about it, the sheer fact that you’re in a fight making your heart feel like it’s ripping itself to shreds. A chaotic storm of emotions brews in your chest, switching mercilessly and swirling together so quickly that you can’t even tell what they are. Your insides feel all jumbled up, and trying to decipher what the heck’s going on only makes your head ache more.

They torment you, a deep sense of anguish finally settling at the core. You’re confused, livid at Touya for being such a jackass; jealous, because you want him all to yourself; heartbroken, because you want—need—his approval, desperate to hear him tell you that you’re his good little baby girl.

You want to be his good little baby girl.

But it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Get used to it, he had told you once, when you had complained about something so silly, so simple as him eating the last ice cream cookie sandwich (he made it up to you, of course, telling you he wanted to taste your cream—such a cheeseball—and making you cum three times before taking you out to buy more).

No, it isn’t fair, but you don’t care. You want him to be yours, too.

Keigo tsks, bringing your attention back to him, mouth set in a hard line as sad eyes watch you. “What was it about?”

“I-It…H-He—” a shuddery breath cuts you off, and Keigo draws you into his arms, holding you against his chest as the sobs start up again, sobs that make it feel like your body’s about to tear apart, desperately clutching Keigo to try and keep yourself together.

“Oh, songbird,” he coos, rocking you gently. “Is it…Um, the other girls?”

“Yes,”

“But you know you’re his favourite, right?”

“D-Does it even matter, if he’s still fucking them anyway?” you ask, pulling back suddenly as hot anger flashes through you. “Why does he need them? Am I—” a sob cuts you off, but you swallow it, persevering. “Am I not good enough?” your voice breaks on the last word, fading into a whisper, big teary eyes scanning his face almost frantically, seeking an answer in his expression.

Keigo blinks, surprised by your sudden brashness, then gives you a small, sad smile. “Only he can answer that, sugarplum,” he whispers, using the pad of his thumb to catch a stray tear and wipe it across your cheekbone. “But just because he’s fucking around, doesn’t mean that you can’t, too,”

Your head tilts to the side, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Keigo shrugs, leaning back a little. “He definitely deserves it, for making an angel such as yourself so upset,”

You sniffle a little, wiping at your nose with the paw of your sweater as you consider the prospect.

“Y’know, it technically isn’t cheating, since you guys aren’t in any sort of official relationship to begin with,” Keigo reminds you gently, nudging just a tiny bit more.

It isn’t right—you know it isn’t. You’ve never been one to fight fire with fire, often preferring to avoid conflict and drama, but you’re so hurt; you’re so angry at him—angry at the way he reacted, as if it was you in the wrong, angry at the fact that he doesn’t even seen to care about your feelings on the issue, because he knows you’ll come running back either way, angry because he’s right, as evident in the way pathetically clung to him last night—that all you want to do in that moment is cause him a shred of the pain he’s causing you.

It’s an impulsive decision that has you pulling out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts, thumb jabbing at Tomura’s name—Touya had given you his number for emergencies only—before you have time to think it through, before you have time to regret it.

Tiny thumbs fly across the keyboard, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline accelerates your breathing.

Hey. Let’s hang out.

Keigo inhales through his teeth next to you, and your eyes dart to him in surprise, as if you had forgotten he was there.

“Well,” he begins, though his voice sounds odd to you—unlike his usually nonchalant, happy-go-lucky manner. “That’s, uh, definitely one that’s gonna hurt him, songbird,”

You look back down at your phone to see Tomura typing a response.

Yeah, definitely. Pick a day.

“Good.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #no idea how this MONSTER grew so much??? #big apologies #part two is DARK and it is coming tomorrow!!! #tw pseudo-incest #tw toxic relationship #tw dubcon #tw drugs #tw cheating

[thefanficmonster]

Partner

Ethan Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard) x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Spoilers for Resident Evil 8:Village, Swearing, Mentions of injury

Genre: Angsty Fluff, Comfort

Summary: Following the final battle in the Dimitrescu Castle, Ethan is surprised to stumble upon a person who witnessed the whole debacle, offering him a safe place to patch up his wounds and rest for a little while.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request! So sorry you’ve had to wait so long but here it finally is! Hope you come across it and enjoy reading it! Love, Vy ❤

“That was...something else.“ Ethan Winters mutters to himself as he limps his way out of the Dimitrescu Castle which is now vacant in terms of residence - his doing. He killed Alcina Dimitrescu and her daughters, all arguably in self defense and with little guilt to follow. However, plenty of trauma’s definitely attached to him following the horrific events he had to go through and the things he had to see between the walls of those luxurious rooms hiding dark secrets of the vampires who took pleasure in torturing people, and wreaking havoc over the villagers who feared them.

“At least they won’t hurt anyone any longer.“ He tells himself, giving the monster of a structure one final look before he continues back towards the center of the village where he’s gonna rethink what he’s got to do next, gather his bearings, take a breath and keep going. He has no other option but to keep going, he won’t allow himself to quit no matter what danger he faces. In his mind, he’s convinced himself that he’s already seen the worst, it’s easier on him that way, it suppresses the fear he’d feel otherwise. The last thing he wants is to think what’s in store for him ahead, he’d rather focus on what’s up to him to do next.

“And we can’t thank you enough.“

The sudden presence of an unfamiliar voice startles him, causing him to whip out his gun and point it in the direction it came from. However, he quickly finds his deadly tight grip loosening ever so slightly because he realizes he’s pointing the barrel at a very human-looking and seemingly harmless person.

“Who are you? Who’s ‘we’?“ Ethan still refuses to let his guard down though, just cause it may not be a life or death situation, doesn’t mean this person won’t bring him trouble and Lord knows that’s the last thing he needs right now.

On instinct, the person takes a step back, “I speak on the behalf of all the remaining villagers. I mean, it was only a matter of time before we too became victims in the Dimitrescu Castle basement. I was next, actually, but the commotion you created allowed for me to escape. I owe you my life, foreigner.“ The speak hurriedly and in a hushed tone, as if the fear of their torturers overhearing them still lives within them despite the monsters being deceased.

“Glad I could help you.“ He nods curtly, remaining at the distance of seven feet between them, “My name’s Ethan Winters by the way.“

They give him the tiniest of smiles, “Y/N L/N, pleased to meet you.” Their gaze gives him a quick onceover, assessing the damage the horrors of the castle have inflicted on him. Their eyes widen in shock at the many bleeding wounds all over his body but what appears to rattle them most is the severe injury that’s causing his limp as well as the missing finger - a poorly wrapped would that has surprisingly not started getting infected yet. “Look, I know you don’t trust me, but I don’t trust you to take care of yourself either. I live in that windmill over there in the outskirts, come with me, I’ll help you with...well, with all that. You seem rather hopeless at medical care.”

While he could refuse their offer, he wouldn’t be able to deny the fact that they’re right - he knows the basics of first aid, but his injuries are far too gone for simple first aid, especially when taken into account that he doesn’t even have any supplies. How he’s not died from blood loss is a surprise to him as much as it is to them.

“What’s my guarantee you won’t turn on me?“ He finally asks after a decent amount of time contemplating it.

They shrug, “You have none. But, you have the guarantee that if I turn on you, you’ll be the one coming out of that altercation alive.” Their gaze sizes up the guns he’s got on him, emphasizing their point.

Suddenly, Ethan feels sorta ridiculous - after all, guns or no guns, he could probably take on them easily with just his knife. Regardless, no one can blame him for being cautious. “Fine.“ He mutters, “But please don’t turn on me, I’ve already had one hell of a day.“

Y/N nods, motioning for him to follow them, “I promise I won’t.”

                                                               *  *  *

“Wow, what a back-stabber! Some friends you have, Winters.“ Y/N comments as they set down a cup of tea on the small wooden table in front of the freshly patched up Ethan.

Turns out, he made the right move by trusting them - they used to be the village’s main nurse until it all went to hell and they went to hide in the shadows of their windmill where they, as evidenced, still are today. That being said, not only did they have all the necessary equipment to fix him up, but they also had the skills and knowledge needed to use that equipment.

“There are those friends who borrow money from you and never pay you back and there are those who shoot your wife randomly while you two are trying to have dinner. Two types of friends out there really.“ He sighs, his tired, a thousand yard stare following the path of the steam levitating from the cup that’s been placed in front of him. “I have no time to dwell on that right now though. My daughter is in grave danger and I have no idea where I should even start looking for her.“

Y/N sits down on a chair opposite his, “Well, you’ve already defeated one of the village Lords looking for Rose, process of elimination should reveal where she is - wherever she is, it has to be one of the Lords’ residence. Mother Miranda trusted Lady Dimitrescu most so it’s a wonder why she wasn’t there, but then again, Heisenberg’s factory is damn near impenetrable, one cannot enter unless he wants them to so she could have entrusted her precious cargo to him.”

“How do I get to that fucker?“ Ethan tightens his hand into a fist, squeezing so tightly his knuckles turn white. There’s so much within him, so much that’s happened to him, so much in such a short amount of time and he’s had no time to deal with any of it. He’s a volcano waiting to erupt, but he has to do so at the right time - in front of the right danger to show he’s not hopeless or weak as his opponent may think. “Where do I find him?“

“He’s in the outskirts too just on the other side of the village.“ They sigh, regretting every word they are saying since they know they are just feeding him information on how to get himself in the worst kind of danger he’s probably ever been in. “That key you have, it’s not complete to access his quarters yet. By the looks of it...“ they observe the key Ethan has placed on the table, “You can only get to Lord Donna Beneviento’s estate, and I wouldn’t suggest heading there before you heal at least a bit more. Her and her dolls are a real nightmare. Of course, I haven’t experienced it for myself, but the stories are enough to get an idea.“

“So you’re telling me I have to waste my time with the little fish before I can finally get to Rose? You know how long that’ll take? You know how long she’ll have to be at the mercy of a fucking lunatic until I can finally save her?!“ Ethan snaps, banging his fist against the table, bad idea considering his hand’s been just patched up. The impact sends a jolt of pain up his arm that makes him hiss.

“I get it, I understand, Ethan. But you are a lot less likely to get to your daughter if you’re dead, you know.“ Y/N cautiously explains, their eyes narrowing a bit as they wait for the pearl white bandages to soak crimson, sighing in relief when they don’t. “Speaking of how likely you may or may not be to get to her on time, I’d also have to mention your odds would be significantly higher if you were to receive help from someone else. You’d need someone to have your back throughout all the shit you’re about to go through, especially Heisenberg’s factory where two eyes are not enough to track each and every threat that might pounce at you.“

Calmer now, Ethan gives them a puzzled look, “What are you suggesting?“

“I’m suggesting - well, I’m offering you my partnership.“ They explain, watching his expression change to one of knowing and understanding. “Of course, you’d have to give up one of those guns and hand it down to me, but I think that’s a small price to pay in exchange for an extra pair of eyes and limbs to guard and help you.“

Ethan’s first instinct is to decline. He can’t afford to see another person dying around him or because of him, he wouldn’t be able to stand it. But then again, just like he had no guarantee they wouldn’t turn on him, he has none that they’ll die. Of course, he’ll do everything in his power to keep them and himself alive and they don’t seem like they are in it to half-ass it either. Quite the contrary, they seem perfectly determined and ready to face the same shit he’s about to.

“What do you get in return?“ He asks, his gaze suspiciously measuring each line on their face to gauge their true intentions. He’s a complete stranger to them, they’d have no reason to be this selfless for him, it’s obvious they are aiming at something bigger.

Y/N scoffs, leaning back in their chair with a small bitter smile on their face, their gaze resting on the tabletop and avoiding his, “You really wanna know? I want my revenge - revenge for what they did to this village, to me, to so many people I cared about and to those I didn’t even know. But...” they trail off, pausing to sigh out a heavy sigh before continuing, “But I also wanna redeem myself. I knew I should’ve done all in my power to stop them when their havoc was still on the rise, I knew I should’ve done more, but I didn’t. And now I’ll die trying.”

“You won’t die.“ He says sharply, barely a second after the last word left their lips, “I won’t allow it.“ He adds, taking a bit of the edge off his voice.

Their eyes come up to meet his, searching for what he means, “Does that mean...“

“It sure does, partner.“ Within the blink of an eye, his pistol is on the table, fully loaded and free for their taking, “You just give a green light and we’re off.“

Y/N lets out a sound between a laugh and a gasp as their hands quickly wrap around the gun, looking at it in disbelief before whispering a quick ‘thank you’. Ethan allows them to marvel at it for a bit longer but they don’t wait another second. “Get your ass up, Winters. We have monsters to kill.”

He needn’t be told twice

#resident evil 8 #resident evil #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil village #resident evil 7 #re #re 8 #re village #karl #heisenberg #resident evil karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg #resident evil lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #ethan winters #ethan winters x reader #ethan winters imagine #rose winters #rosemary winters #mia winters #resident evil chris redfield #chris redfield #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #video game #video game fanfic #x reader #reader insert

[ff-imagines]

uhm this is embarrassing thing to request but,,,,,,, how bout u know,,,,,, nsfw alphabet/scenario/hcs with blobster. 👁️👄👁️. I'm sorry.

Boston lobster: nsfw alphabet

Minors dni xoxo

A - aftercare

Admittedly kinda sloppy, it doesn’t occur to him that he should probably check up on you till he’s like “oh shit humans need water” and he suddenly shoots up to grab some and come back to you lmao

If you explicitly ask you get no back talk from him, he just carries you where you need to be and makes sure you’re feeling alright.

Will be endlessly prideful if u say you can’t walk, express your soreness at your sanities risk bc he’ll bring it up for ages

B- body parts

Oh he’s got no shame to tell you he loves your ass and thighs. The type to walk by you and give you a tap on the ass while smirking to himself. Doesn't matter how much or how little you've got he’ll still ask at least once if he can fuck your thighs lmao

Does his height count? He loves how he towers over most humans and food souls alike, chances are he’s probably taller than you, and he really likes that. Sulks a bit if you’re actually taller than him lmao.

They aren’t his favourite part of him but I gotta talk about the antennae. They’re weirdly sensitive, pulling him makes him squeak, which ends with him chasing you or with him chasing you, take your pick. When he catches you he makes it his goal to find a weirdly sensitive part of your body and to tease that spot endlessly. Tickle fight ensues but it’s more like you’re suffering while he’s maniacally laughing above you.

C - cum

It’s thick as fuck and very salty, rip lmao

He likes to cum inside or on your thighs, look they’re very squishy and nice ok he can’t help it </3

He’s also obsessed with not only making you cum, but just… your cum. Amab or afab readers, he will delight in making you watch him swallow. Would also bring his hand up to make you taste yourself, grinning the whole damn way.

D - dirty secret

He’s really affected by scents. If you have a signature perfume or cologne you wear all the time it can make him unbearably horny, since the smell lingers on his sheets and on his clothes long after you’re gone.

E - experience

A fair amount, out of curiosity. Not too many times as he’s spent a lot of years in total isolation. His curiosity is a more recent development, he finds he likes the feeling but something is just missing from his hookups. Then he meets you and is like “ohhhh a relationship is what it was, damn.” Once he realizes that, and even a little bit before when he first starts noticing his internal unease, the hookups stop so he can figure out how to swallow his pride and try and ask a human out lmao

F - favorite position

He loves doggy style because it’s just so so easy to control you that way. He loves to pull you back by your arms, spearing inside you at a punishing pace.

He also would love if you were flexible enough to push into a mating press, getting right next to your ear, whispering about how close he is.

G - goofy

Surprisingly, yea! He’s actually pretty good at making fun of himself, he just doesn’t do it often and doesn’t like it when someone he’s not close to does it. He gives little teases here and there, it eases tension quite a lot.

H- hair

He doesn’t shave for shit lmao. Intense happy trail, intense amount of body hair over all, he actually prefers it that way.

He keeps the same energy with your body hair and will come out and tell you he kinda likes it if you don’t shave. Ultimately he doesn’t think on it too hard, it doesn’t bother him in the end, whatever you want, he wants too!

I- intimacy

He’s not so good at being truly intimate, it’s just not something he’s used to being. If you ever, by some miracle, convince him to let you top him, he’s actually a lot softer and it’s easier to let his feelings speak for him. He also discovers he likes getting dommed a lot but he won’t tell you that lmao

J- jerk off

Not too often, he’s either super busy or he could just find you and solve the problem in an even more satisfying way.

If he ever can’t, expect him to grab one of your shirts to press to his nose as he fists his cock, the feeling of being surrounded by you is enough to help him finish when he desperately needs it.

K- Kinks

Well, the scent thing ofc.

He’s really into risky sex, a true exhibitionist. He’s hot, you’re hot, who wouldn’t want to see you both put on a show? If it gets it into their heads that no matter how bad they want you, you belong to him, your place is right here, getting split apart on his cock, he’ll make sure the message gets across.

Huge breeding kink. Hates the idea of kids but really likes the idea of claiming your insides. He’d love to push you into the mattress and release as deep as he can go.

He’s into humiliation as well, let him tease you while calling you his sweet little whore, he'll make it worth your while.

He’d love if you let him tie you up, he’d probably get into doing fancy designs that accentuates your body in the best way. A pretty rope to tie up and dick down a pretty s/o.

Also I can’t look at his skin where he’s got that suit on and not know he’s got a daddy kink, I just can’t. He doesn’t care for anything other than the title, it’s more about power than anything else. Call him daddy in public and watch how fast you get taken to a more private area. Or, maybe a less than private area, if you’d let him.

He’s got a thing for size difference as well, he loves to loom over you, even if he isn’t actually bigger than you.

L- location

Anywhere, anytime. He’s a prideful bastard, he’ll show off his ability to get you drunk off his cock any way he can. Not only isn’t there a spot in your house he hasn’t fucked you on, there probably isn’t a place on your street either.

M- motivation

What really gets him going is seeing you when you're at your most confident. If you come to him beaming about winning an award, wearing an outfit you feel great in, even if you just say something cocky, it just makes him so proud and eager to share that confidence with you. He doesn’t want to break you down, he wants to prop you up! Tell him about how good you feel, he’ll make you feel even better <3

N- no

As much as he likes to show you off, he doesn’t actually like the thought of a third party joining in. He might be swayed if it’s someone he really trusts. He also doesn't like receiving humiliation, he’s much too prideful lmao

O- oral

Please suck him off, he’ll be kinda rough with you but he’ll be nicer if you ask. He prefers to be mean though lmao. He likes ordering you around on what to do when you’ve got his dick in your mouth, his words get more incoherent the closer he is, though.

He’s just as eager to give you head too, he treats you like a whole 7 course meal. He loves biting around your thighs before ever touching where you're desperate for him to.

P- pace

Oh he’s punishingly hard. Loves to have a fast steady pace then stop as deep as he can and roll his hips a bit to make sure you feel just how deep his dick is inside you.

There are rare days when he’s feeling soft, those days he’s slow and methodical, gripping into your hips to make sure you can’t wiggle to increase your own pleasure, he wants you to savour the high he gives you.

Q- quickies

Well, why not! So what if you’re in an alleyway near a busy street, and anyone can walk by and see you getting pounded? You’re feeling heated aren’t you? Don't kid yourself, just turn around and let him take care of you.

R- risk

He lives for it. If you’d let him he’d bounce you on his cock in a plainly public place, like a subway car.

It’s a big fantasy of his for someone who absolutely pines for you to flirt just a little too hard, you coming to him and letting him fuck your right in front of them. It fuels his pride beyond belief to show you off.

S- stamina

His refractory time is fairly low. Even if he...can? doesn't really mean he wants to. He prefers either one drawn out, long round where you’ve both been edged to the point of desperation, or a few quick rounds throughout the day.

T- toys

At first they kinda hurt his pride but then he’s like “wait I can strap them on a vibrator and just sit back and watch” and then he’s totally on board lmao.

Forcing you to sit on a chair with a vibrator he had the remote to, keeping you on the edge and smirking while you beg and snivel, having no actual plans to give into your pleading.

U- unfair

Oh fuck yea, strap in babes.

He loves loves to edge the fuck out of you, he’d drag it out for hours if you’d let him. Even better if he can tie you down so you can’t squirm away from what he’s giving you.

Overstimulation is just as exciting to him, but he actually loves it more on himself. Sometimes he’ll overstimulate himself on purpose by still continuing to buck into you even after he’s already cum, determined to chase a second high no matter how painful it feels.

V- volume

Loud groans, and he won’t stop talking. Loves to ask you questions when you’re clearly way too blissed out to answer in any sort of coherent way.

He gets a lot louder near his release, he loves to bite into your shoulder to try and muffle himself. If he decides to be bold and let you hear him, he grabs your jaw and brings his face right next to your ear. What a show off.

W- wild card

He kidnaps small items that remind him of you, not just things that smell like you. That one earring you always wear, a glove, a necklace, picks flowers that remind him of you for whatever reason, he might even go out of his way to buy things that remind him of you, keep them to himself for a while, then give it to you when he’s sure it smells enough like him. He gives your stuff back… eventually.

X- X Ray

Oh please… he spits, sweats, and bleeds big dick energy. I refuse to believe his dick isn’t big enough to make you nervous. Would have you sit on his lap and track a finger up your stomach to measure how deep his cock can go.

Y- yearning

He’s pretty likely to mold to your sexual drive. However often you need him, he’s at your beck and call. He likes to keep it closer to 2-3 times a week if he can.

Z- zzz

He doesn’t sleep all that easily at all, but it gets a little easier when he’s got you in his arms. Prefers to be big spoon, and as much as he hates getting overheated, he just can’t will himself to let go of you. It’s ironically one of the most peaceful sleeps he’s ever had.

#food fantasy #food fantasy x reader #ff boston lobster #ff boston lobster x reader

[jean-kayak]

Relieving The Tension

Summary: Kirishima comes to you for sore body problems, but he suddenly develops another problem

Pairing: Prohero!Kirishima Eijirou x black!fem!reader

Warnings: (smut 18+!!), fingering (f.receiving), oral (f.receiving), unprotected sex, little bit of hair pulling, size kink, praise kink, Kirishima is horny for reader, reader’s a tease lmao, manhandling (Kirishima flips the reader around a little bit), reader’s pretty bold and confident, and she highkey thick

Word Count: 5,056

A/N: lmao, I got this from a hallmark movie that I was watching, and I was horny; here is the result, and there’s like a tiny bit of plot

"I don't think the moves you gave me are working, man," Kirishima tells him tiredly, his body still feeling stiff and sore.

Midoriya laughs lightly as he nods his head. "I figured as much. I have a friend of mine who helped me out a while ago, and I talked to her. She said she could help you out. I'll give you her information."

Kirishima nods. "Sounds good. Thanks a lot."

~

Kirishima doesn't really know why he's nervous when he walks up to the door to your place. Maybe it's because he doesn't know what to expect. He doesn't really know anything about you except for the fact that you've helped Midoriya by giving him some stretches to do. Which he tried to show him, but they didn't really work.

Not soon after he knocks on the door, it's swung open, and he assumes the person that's supposed to be helping him out comes into view. "Oh, hi! You're here early!" you chirp, and he rubs his arm nervously.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he says, and you wave him off.

"Don't worry about it! This just means we have more time, come on in!" You're a lot more lively than he expected, but it's not in an overbearing way. You move to the side to let him in, and he steps inside, taking in the room as you close the door.

"You can follow me this way," you say, brushing past him, and the first thing he picks up on is how good you smell. You smell really sweet, and he can't quite put his finger on what it is, but it's intoxicating. Then he snaps himself out of it. He was worried about you being weird, and now he's being the weird one.

"You know, I never expected Red Riot of all people to be in my house," you joke, and he chuckles easily.

"Kirishima is fine, and Deku said that you helped him out when his body wasn't feeling the best, so he figured you could help me."

"Well, that's what I'm good at. Helping people relieve the soreness in their bodies," you respond, walking into a room with one side of the wall lined with mirrors.

"Is that your quirk?" he asks, stopping right as he steps into the room while you keep walking.

You wave him off. "Oh, no. My quirk is gathering information," you tell him as you make your way to a closet on the other side of the room. You don't need to turn around to see that his face is showing confusion. "I'm able to gather any information from people if I touch them, but only if I want to."

You pull out two yoga mats, pushing the door closed with your foot before turning to him. "So don't worry. Your secrets are safe," you tell him, making finger guns towards him as you wink.

The laugh that escapes him makes him relax a little more, not even remembering why he was nervous in the first place. "So, what stretches did Izuku show you?" you ask, rolling out the mats as Kirishima fishes his phone out of his shorts.

He sees there's a text from the pro-hero himself saying 'how's it going,' and Kirishima wants to text him to tell him that he forgot to mention one very important detail.

How insanely attractive you are. Your bubbly personality is already bringing him, but your body is on a whole nother level. The leggings you have on cling to every last one of your curves like they're a second skin. He couldn't help but admire how amazing your ass looks, and he found himself staring way too hard when he was walking behind you.

He pulls up the stretches and leans his phone in your direction so that you can see, and you step close to him again, your scent infiltrating his nostrils once again. "Okay, well these are pretty easy, but they're not working?" you clarify and he shakes his head. "Are you doing them every day?"

He feels his face heat up as he rubs the back of his neck. "No..." he admits, sheepishly.

"That's okay! Being a hero is hard work, and you really have no set schedule, I get it." Your reassurance makes him feel ten times better. "If you can't do it every day then at least try to do it twice a day. Even getting a few stretches in is going to ease your pain a ton."

He nods eagerly, signaling that he's understanding everything that you're saying, and you clap your hands together. "Okay! Let's get started. You can step on the mat if you want to. Up to you if wanna remove your shoes or not."

"What do you prefer?" he asks as you walk away from him, and you can practically see the smile on his face.

"Personally, no shoes. Helps me feel more grounded," you express playfully, and you glance in the mirrors to see that he's slipping off his shoes, which makes you laugh to yourself.

You instruct him to do some breathing exercises as you set up your music, and when all that is out of the way, you walk back over to him.

"Okay, now we can finally get to the stretching." You step behind him as you look down. "Okay, feet together," and he does what you tell him. "I'm gonna touch you, is that okay?"

"Yeah, I trust you," he tells you, and the both of you laugh lightly, but his laugh dies in his throat when you place your hands on the small of his back.

"Okay, I just wanna make sure you're comfortable." All he can do is nod. He is way more than comfortable, but he doesn't want to tell you that. And the only thing he can think about is how soft and small your hands are. Or how small you are compared to him.

He can barely see you standing behind him in the mirror, but what he can see is that your head barely meets the middle of his back. "Hey, just relax, okay?" you say softly as you rub small circles on his back. He hadn't even realized he was tense again.

He nods as he takes another deep breath, and you smile at him in the mirror. "There you go, good job." He almost tenses again at the praise.

"Okay, can you bend forward for me? Try to touch your toes." You step to the side, keeping a hand on him as you lightly push him down. "Is that as far as you can go?" you ask, and he's glad that you can't see his face turning red.

"Yeah..." he trails off, and you rub his back.

"Hey, no, that's okay. I just wanted to know." You give his back a few more soothing rubs before you speak again. "I'm gonna push just a little bit more, okay? It's gonna pull."

You put the slightest pressure on the top of his back, and he winces when he feels that pull. "I know, you're just gonna hold it for a few seconds. Just like that, you're doing so well."

Kirishima wills the praise to go anywhere but his dick.

You put him through a few more stretches that actually make him feel a little better, like the one that you have him doing now, which feels euphoric for his lower back.

His legs are spread out straight his sides as far as he can go, with his hands out in front of him as you push on his back. "That feels good?" you ask, noticing the satisfying sigh he releases and he nods again. "This is where most of the pain is, yeah?"

"Yeah, it's almost like my whole back."

"You wanna tell me where?" you ask, your hands running underneath his shirt, which he previously consented to. Your hands are so warm, so soft, and he feels goosebumps breaking out over his skin when you lightly graze your nails up and down his back.

He wonders if he could make you scratch them deeper--

"Like on the sides of my lower back," he cuts his thoughts off, trying to find different ways to not get a hard-on right in front of you. He feels as your hands glide right to where he mentioned, and you dig your thumbs into a certain spot that has him holding back a moan.

"Like right there?" you say, smirking because you know you've found a spot already.

"Y-Yeah," he mumbles as you pull him up to sit him back up. You run your hands up to his shoulders.

"Maybe like right here too?" you try, digging your thumbs in another sore spot that has his head falling back. "You've got a lot of knots, those spots are pretty common. How about right here?"

You press the heel of your hand just hard enough into the middle of his back to tap at another one, and this time he releases a broken whine. He doesn't know how much more of this he can take.

The way you're whispering in his ear while hitting all of the spots that seem to make him weak. He feels like he's putty in your hands. You start massaging at his neck, and he almost falls back onto you.

"I can give you a massage the next time you come if you want."

"Yes, please," he sighs, barely recognizing his voice as he releases another whine, and you lean dangerously close to his ear.

"Well, whenever you're ready, I'll be here, Red."

Kirishima lowkey debated coming back, but the fact that you made him feel so good after one session is the reason why he's back on your doorstep not even a week later.

"Welcome back," you greet, letting him in. "You've been doing the stretches?" His answer's a bit delayed because the only thing on his mind is how good you look right now.

"Yeah, I have," he answers distractedly, his eyes taking in the fact you have a sports bra on and no shirt which means there's nothing blocking the phenomenal view of your ass. He knows that if he stares any longer he's gonna drool.

This time, you lead him to another room, and it looks like it's straight out of a massage place. "You're gonna lay on this table right here," you explain, patting the table. "You can take your shirt off if you want."

He decides he wants to see if he can get a reaction out of you. So he peels his shirt off, flexing a little bit just for good measure as he moves to lay on the table, and he feels his ego inflate a little when he sees you raking your eyes up and down his frame in the corner of his eye.

He moves to lay down on his stomach as he hears music starting to play softly from the speaker, and he turns his head to see what you're doing, and he's met with bending over nearly right in front of his face.

He knows he's probably a huge pervert, but he really can't help it as he takes in your figure, biting his lip as every possible kind of dirty thought pops into his head. The popping of a cap snaps him out of his thoughts, and that intoxicating smell that you seem to give off fills his nostrils.

That only fuels his thoughts as he thinks about your skin all slicked and oiled up--

He's glad he's on his stomach right now.

The feeling of the warm oil spreading across his back makes him relax, and he sighs deeply. "I'm gonna use my knuckles now, okay?" you tell him after you've rubbed oil all over his back.

You see him nod, and he feels your hands for a few more seconds before he suddenly feels a mix between pain and pleasure, the latter winning out, making him let out a garbled noise in surprise. "Does that feel good?" you ask, digging into the same spot.

"Yes, oh fuck," he releases quickly, and he barely has time to recollect himself. "Shit, sorry for swearing."

Your chuckle fills his ears. "It's all good, I totally get it." He doesn't know how long it's been, but he literally feels like he's melted into the chair. He's never felt something so heavenly, and he wonders why he never went to get one. Then again, he thinks from now on that he'll only get them from you. "You not falling asleep on me are you, Red?"

He doesn't know if it's because of how good he feels or the heady scent of the oils, but your voice runs over his body so smoothly that it makes him shudder. It also could be the way you say a shortened version of his hero name that has him feeling some type of way.

A goofy smile finds its way onto his face as he turns his head to look at you, but his eyes are barely open. "Trust me, the last thing I'm thinking about doing is falling asleep."

You laugh softly. "Well, what are you thinking about doing?"

You, he almost says, but he holds back even though it's difficult. He just responds with a lazy shrug. "I dunno. I'm too focused on how amazing this feels." In response to his words, you dig into another tender spot, making him release a shaky breath. "Ah, shit. You are really good at this."

"Yeah? You want me to do the front?" you ask jokingly, but he can tell that you're actually somewhat serious. He's about to consider it, but when he shifts that's when he notices it.

He's hard as a fucking rock.

He doesn't really know how he didn't notice, but he does know that he's now as red as his hair. "Uh, I'll pass for today," he tells you, mortified at the situation he's unknowingly put himself in.

"You sure? I don't mind." He looks over to see you rubbing the remaining oil on your neck, and he wants nothing more than to pounce on you, bend you over the chair, and split you open on his dick.

The thought sends another jolt to his already raging erection, and he has to get out of here. It might become disastrous if he stays any longer. "No, that's fine. I'll take you up on it next time," he says, and he hopes he can find some way to get himself out of this situation.

When he comes over the third time, he almost walks right back to his car. When he sees what you're wearing, he thinks that you have to be pulling his leg. You've gone sans shirt again, but this time you've replaced the skintight leggings with short spandex.

He can't feel himself to bring any shame as his eyes zero in on your bare legs as they meet the fabric that's barely covering your ass. He figured he was going to have a hard time, but he clearly underestimated the situation.

Along with the sound of your voice, your hands touching him softly, how amazing you smell, adding in the fact that your plush thighs are no longer hidden is what sends his imagination running wild.

He imagines how they would feel around his head while he eats you out, or how they would feel when he digs his fingers into the soft flesh while he eats you out, or how they would feel wrapped around his waist as he makes you cum on his dick over and over again.

The thoughts plague his mind the entire time, and he has to try even harder to not get hard in front of you again. And the worst part about all of this is that he doesn't even know if you feel the same way. He's been too distracted that he hasn't even been focusing on picking up cues. If you found out what he was thinking, you'd probably kick him out. Or file a restraining order against him.

"Hey, before you go, do you think you could help me out?" you ask as you sit on the floor, spreading your legs out in front of you, looking at him in the mirrors.

He wants to say no, but he wants to say yes, but he doesn't want to sound like a dick if he says no. "Sure, what do you need?" he asks, walking back towards you.

"I just need you to push down on my back," you explain simply as you start to lean forward, and he gets on his knees behind you before placing his hands on your back and pushing you down. He keeps going when you don't tell him otherwise until you're basically flush against the floor.

You feel so warm against his hands, but he can't help but point out how big his hands are compared to your back. It shouldn't be such a turn on for him that you're so much smaller than he is, but he really can't help it. Especially when it leads to him to think about how small your hand would look around his massive length, and how it wouldn't be able to wrap around it fully. Or how he'll try and fit it in your tight, little hole.

He shakes his head, an attempt to get the images out of his head, and he looks down, but then his eyes hyperfocus on your ass, which is no longer hiding being your spandex.

It must've come up while you were stretching with him, but at the angle, you're at, the firm globes are right there exposed in front of his face and he can't look away. "See something you like, Red?"

His head snaps up, his eyes wide as he meets your eyes in the mirror. Your chin is resting on your hands, your top half still parallel with the floor, and you chuckle softly at the deer in headlights expression Kirishima is currently wearing.

His face turns crimson as he realizes he's been caught red-handed, and he's about to start blabbering an apology when you start to move. "It's okay," you start, the huge smirk on your face never faltering. You push back against his hands until he relaxes them a bit, giving you the room to move to a new position.

He watches in awe as you bring your legs back together before folding them and getting on your hands and knees. You back up just a little before arching your back, your ass not even a few feet from his face.

He stays there frozen, and you wiggle your hips as you giggle, never taking your eyes off of him in the mirror. "Go ahead, Kiri, I know you want to."

He glances at you in the mirror before moving his hands to cup your ass, his fingers digging under the material to expose your entire backside, and he can't help the groan that escapes from his lips.

You wiggle your hips again, and this time, he's digging his fingers into your hips and pulling you into his crotch, rutting his half-hard dick against you, making you moan. "Oh, fuck, I've been dreaming about this, princess," he breathes out.

"I know," you respond sweetly, and the next thing you know, you're on your back with Kirishima hovering over you.

"You tellin' me you've been a tease on purpose?" he puts together, and you respond with a light shrug as you trail a finger up and down his ridiculously toned arm.

"I just gathered some information. What I needed of course. I was just waiting for you to crack," you admit. "Took you long enough."

You can tell he's holding back. The arms that are right beside your head are flexing every now and then, and you thrust your hips up into his full erection, making his nails scratch at the floor underneath you. "I don't want you to hold back, Eiji. I want you to fuck me so hard that I can't walk straight."

Those words seem to be the ones that break the dam because he's leaning down, pulling you into a searing kiss, his tongue shoving into your mouth almost immediately. He pins your arms down to the floor as his lips travel to your neck, his sharp teeth quickly making marks all over your neck.

What you said seems to have unleashed an animal from Kirishima because he practically is ripping your clothes off, your body bare in the blink of an eye, along with his. You can't help when your mouth drops open at how built he is, your hand traveling along his Adonis form, and your eyes almost pop out of your head when they land on his dick. He's fucking massive.

"You see something you like?" he teases with a wink and you nod, your eyes having a hard time leaving his crotch. "Hell yes," you emphasize, and he smirks before pulling you up to meet your lips again. His hands travel from your neck to your breasts, his fingers playing with him until he can pinch and pull the hard buds between his fingers.

You moan into the kiss as he deepens it, one of his hands continuing its mission downwards while the other stays to play with your tit. He smiles at the feeling of you slightly jumping when he swirls a finger across your lips, his finger instantly being covered in your slick. "This wet already?"

You smirk. "Only for you." You gasp at the sudden intrusion, one of his thick fingers sliding in easily. Your hands fall to his arms as he pumps it in and out of you. He adds another finger, making your back arch slightly. You can feel the stretch and he's only put in two fingers.

He picks up the pace, curling his fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot with perfect accuracy, and you can't even keep kissing him, instead moaning into his mouth.

He starts to slow down, and you whine, pulling on his shoulders. "Stop teasing, Kiri," you pant, trying to move against his fingers when he stops pumping them into you.

He gives you a shit-eating grin. "Oh? You're singing a different tune now. I thought you were all for teasing," he taunts, and you shake your head quickly as you continue to move.

"Fuck, no. Come on, please," you beg, and he realizes that he really can't wait any longer either, so he pushes you back down onto the floor before spreading your legs and crawling in between them.

He slips his fingers back inside you while his mouth attacks your clit, which makes you jump and your hand find his hair. He scissors his fingers inside of you before adding a third, and you already feel so full, making you wonder if you can actually take him.

Your back arches off the floor when his tongue swirls around your clit and his fingers press on that spot inside you, making you release a breathless cry of his name, your head dizzy with pleasure.

Meanwhile, Kirishima feels like he's in heaven. He could stay in between your legs for the rest of his life if he could. Your thick thighs press against his ears at a particular swipe of his tongue, and he groans before using his tongue more feverishly.

He knows your close from your grip tightening in his hair, how your moans are getting higher and how you're panting, and when you cum you practically come up off the floor, your legs squeezing his head, and he groans as he holds himself back from coming just from you coming undone.

Your taste explodes on his tongue, and he makes sure he finger fucks you through your orgasm, making sure he gets as much of your juices as he can get. When your back hits the floor again, he comes up for air, sliding his fingers out of you and into his mouth.

He smirks when he sees your half-lidded eyes before leaning down to meet your lips for a kiss that takes your breath away, moaning softly when you taste yourself. "You not getting tired on me, are you?" he jokes when he pulls away, and you scoff as you shake your head. "Good, because I remember you saying that you didn't want to walk straight."

The memory that occurred not too long ago makes his neglected hard-on ache, and he wastes no time in lining himself up with your hole. You wince slightly when he starts to push in, and he rubs at your clit while he kisses you again, distracting you from the momentary pain. "You okay?" he asks when he gets the head in, and you take a few deep breaths before nodding.

"I'm okay, keep going," you urge, and he pushes the rest of the way in, the prep he gave you helping ease the burning stretch. You realize that he still hasn't stopped moving, and you already feel so full, your eyes rolling back.

"Holy shit, you are so tight. Fuck." You see his muscles twitching, and you know he's holding back, waiting for you to adjust. His arms falter when you clench around him, and you lean up towards his ear.

"What did I say? I want you to fuck me." You grip his hair, pulling his head back roughly so that he's looking you in the eyes. "Hard."

Any bravado or air in your lungs you had before was ripping from you when he pulls out and rams back into you. His pace is relentless and it's like you can feel him pounding your cervix with every thrust.

He moves from his hands to his elbows, and your arms wrap around his neck as you feel your body going limp from pleasure. "Ah, fuck, Kiri, you're so big, feels so good," you moan into his ear, and you hear him whine into your neck.

Then he's pulling out of you and flipping you over and sliding back into you before lifting you up and putting you flush against his chest. He wraps a hand around your neck, and he's basically holding you at this point while he's thrusting into you, your knees almost hovering above the ground.

"You're still coherent. Think that needs to change," he grunts in your ear, and you smirk as you bring a hand up to run through his red locks.

"You like when I praise you, don't you, Kiri?" You both know you didn't need to use your quirk to figure out that he had a praise kink. He revealed that on his own.

He doesn't respond, just lifts your chin up to meet his eyes in the mirror, and you can help the whimper that slips past your lips when you see the bulge in your stomach. You watch as your breasts bounce with every motion of his hips, and your eyes fall onto the bliss expression on Kirishima's face.

"You look so pretty, Red," you tease, and he bites his lip before pushing you down.

"You're still talking," he grits through his teeth, and he pushes your top half onto the floor before pulling out and seeming to move deeper than he had before.

You practically scream as your hands claw at the floor, and he shifts his hips until he finds your sweet spot, and he angles himself to hit there every time. Your eyes roll back as you arch your back more, and Kirishima moans at the sight below him.

"Uh, Kiri," you manage, and he leans down over you.

"What is it, baby? You gotta tell me what you want," he coos with a smirk, knowing that you're being fucked stupid, and you can barely think about forming a proper sentence.

"Please, uhm close, ugh." You roll your eyes at a strong thrust as your body starts to go limp again.

"Hm? You gotta speak up," he teases, and when he sees you about to argue, he cuts you off with another strong thrust that has you seeing stars, and you can feel the shit-eating smirk he has on his face. "You were saying?" he continues, his rhythm slowing down.

"I'm close! 'M close! Please, please, please," you beg, feeling that coil in your stomach close to snapping. You hear him chuckle lightly before he increases his pace again, this time one of his hands snakes down under you to play with your clit.

You jolt at the sudden stimulation but moan regardless as you use the last remaining energy you have to buck back against him. "Cum for me, baby, you can do it," he coaxes as he sits back up, and with a few more aimed thrusts and a pinch of your clit, you cum with a scream of his name.

"Ugh, fuck," he whispers when he feels you clamping around him, and his body tenses as he cums inside of you with a low moan, his warm seed painting your walls white.

He falls on top of you, both of you sinking flat against the floor as you catch your breath, your bodies covered in a layer of sweat. He slowly pulls out of you and flops on his back next to you as he places a hand on his chest, his heartbeat still pounding.

"Fucking hell," he chuckles, making you laugh breathlessly. "I don't even know what to say," he admits, and you roll over on your side, lifting your head with your elbow.

"Left you speechless, huh?" you jab, and he laughs as he nods.

"Yeah, you did," he agrees before he's pulling you on top of him and kissing you fully. "Guess, I should thank you," he says after he pulls away.

"For the sex or the stretches?" you ask, and he grips your hips when you grind down against him which makes his breath hitch.

"For both, but, uh..." He trails off, and the frown on your face is quickly replaced with surprise when he flips you over onto your back. "I'm pretty sure you can still walk."

"You think you can do it?" you challenge and he scoffs.

"Oh, I know I can."

#kirishima eijirou #kirishima eijirou x black!reader #kirishima eijirou smut #kirishima x reader #kirishima x you #eijirou kirishima #bnha smut #mha smut #bnha x black!reader #mha x black!reader #my hero academia smut #boku no hero academia smut