#covering up the entire body) and we saw the markings show up on the arms of both Norea and El4n so yeah

[wxtchpilot]

#OOC #[ one day going to go on a rant about Suletta's scars because -pinches her cheeks- #with how the data storm literally hurts the whole entire body it makes me think that the markings can #also show up on the body and not just the face (we mainly only see the face due to the pilot suit #covering up the entire body) and we saw the markings show up on the arms of both Norea and El4n so yeah #if she got scars on her face then I imagine she has scars on her arms or other portions of her body too #BUT LET ME NOT GET INTO IT RIGHT NOW; it's late and I have an early day at work tomorrow #thanks to all of you for those asks btw; I really do appreciate it ^^ #hoping you all have a great night/day ♥ ]

[dancewithdeath11]

Say Sorry

Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader

Summary: Jason reminds you nobody is allowed to talk bad about you, including yourself. 

Warnings: 18+ SMUT- (but not really, very self-indulgent) talks of body insecurity (stretchmarks, cellulite (specifically on thighs)), talks of wearing a skirt, mentions of prep & cunnilingus but none, 

Word Count: 1.2k

======

“Fuckin- Stupid- Saying shit like that..”

It was your fault. Entirely. But how would you know what punishment your best friend would come up with?

It started out when you were about to go out. Constantly going from your bathroom to the thrifted full body mirror in the corner of your room. Midway through you trying to figure out what you were going to wear, he showed up. Jason was going to give you a ride. He huffed and sat on your bed when he saw you were still trying to pick an outfit. From there he was commenting on them, trying to help you out so the two of you could get going. 

One of the outfits you picked out had a cute skirt that went to your mid-thigh. It was a pleated, classic plaid pattern with a nice brown color. You were pairing it with a brown sweater as well. Only problem was that you couldn't find any nylons to go with it. “Shit-” Turning to look at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help but focus on your own thighs. Hands tugging at the skirt to try and cover what you were focusing on. But that only made it look awkward causing you to pull it back up. 

“I like that one. Why haven’t I seen you wear that skirt before?” Jason asks as he sits up on the bed, giving you his attention once more. You turned again, looking from the other side. Either way you hated how you could see the cellulite and stretchmarks that patterned your thighs. 

“I hate it. I should’ve stuck with the jeans!” Your head shook back and forth as you went to go to the bathroom again. 

He stood up and stopped you, a firm hand on your upper arm. “Hey- Why do you hate it? It’s a good look, just do your makeup and we can go.” The man chuckled lightly. Looking up at him, you hesitated slightly before shaking your head again. “No..talk to me. What is it?” 

Your eyes rolled as he took your shoulders, clearly not letting you go till he got you to talk to him. Jason was just that kind of friend. He was sweet and tried to help you where he could. A shoulder to lean on, a trusted confidant. “I..My thighs and skirts just don’t go together.” You tried to laugh it off slightly. However, he did not like that. 

“Your thighs are fine.” It was his turn to shake his head, a deep frown pulling on his lips. Looking like he didn’t believe it. Like he heard the most obvious lie spoken to man. 

“No-”

“Why would you say that your thighs and skirts don’t work together? Is there some war between us and skirts I’m not aware of?” He joked slightly, head ducking down to catch your gaze as you looked away. It melted your heart a little at the way he said us. A frustrated huff left your pouted lips as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“It’s- You can see my stretch marks, and my cellulite, it’s just not a good look.” You once more tried to brush it off like it wasn’t a big deal. But now his face hardened, an almost angry frown on his face and brows furrowed.

“Don’t say that.” He said, his voice stern as ever. This tone is unfamiliar to you, but even then you wanted to argue back, opening your mouth to do so. But he knew you well enough to not let you get away with that. “Don’t.” That was all he muttered as he took you by the hips and turned you, walking you back towards the bed. “You’re so blind, I swear, ma.” He grumbled under his breath as he made you sit on your bed. 

But what started as a stern lecture from your best friend, quickly turned into more.

The evidence being the bites and hickeys on the insides of your thighs from when he ate you out till you couldn’t take it anymore. Slick coating them from when prepped you with his thick and long fingers. The pads of his fingers calloused from years of abuse, training, and killing. His grip on your thighs alone was enough to remind you what he was capable of. There would probably be bruises tomorrow. 

“Fuck-” Was all you could hiccup as he bites down on the junction of your neck and shoulder. Finally fucking his entire length into you making you feel impossibly full. If you thought he was big before, this was a whole new definition. 

Jason was a brick wall of a man. That was clear. Tall and broad, biceps that looked bigger than your head. But now you know, he was big in other places too. No wonder he was so attentive with prep, but even now it was still a lot.

He was kissing and licking along your tits as he scolded you, waiting patiently for you to adjust. Your back arched as he hugged you around your waist and held you close to reach your chest. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you whined to him, trying your best to watch him past his dark curls. 

He lowered you back onto the covers. Sitting back on his hutches as he watched you with hooded eyes that skated along your hickey littered skin. The same look you’d see when he’d read poetry or admire art. Large hands gently skating up your sides. Thumbs coming to rest just under the swell of your tits, fingers splaying out across your ribs. “Real stupid..” He comes back down and nips at the sensitive skin. Pressing a final kiss there before coming face to face with you. Resting on his elbows on either side of your head as he hovered over you, hiding you from the coldness of your own bedroom. He pressed a feather light kiss to your lips before staying there. Whispering against them, “Say you're sorry. Say you’re sorry for sayin’ something so stupid about my girl.”

God, his eyes were really intense. The way he was staring at you alone was enough to make your face flush more than it already was. 

“S-Sorry..” You whispered out weakly between shallow breaths. He chuckled slightly and nodded in approval, pulling out the slightest bit before stuffing himself back in. Your breathing stuttered as your hands searched desperately for something to grip, quickly latching onto his back. “Jay-”

“I know, ma...” He cooed softly as he sat up again, pulling you along with him. Your thighs draped over his leaving you pliant for him. Hugging around your middle once more as he thrusted slightly, pulling your back down onto him. Quickly you hugged around his shoulders not wanting to fall back. His lips pecked your jawline quickly before he locked you into a kiss. It was messy, uncoordinated and searing. Teeth clashing, heavy breathing and moans shared between the two of you. “God.. S’pretty for me, Princess..” He whispered against your lips as you pant softly. 

It was slow but hard. The push and pull, feeling the drag of his dick deep inside you. 

You’d never doubt your best friend again…

======

Sorry, just another thing i wanted to clear out of my drafts ;)

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #red hood #dc fanfic #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd imagine

[mangosrar]

Middle game.

chris sturniolo x fem reader.

an: just because it’s more than 1 part i decided to use a name rather than y/n. i hope y’all like her 🤍

warnings: suggestive, angst, idk read it or don’t.

more parts coming soon !!!

pt2 here ‘tough guy jasper’

Waking up, he saw her back. The small and shallow ups and downs of it, her breaths washing in and out of her body like the most tranquil ocean waves. Never had the dip of a spine been so beautiful. But then again, it was no surprise that she was the one to show him there was beauty in absolutely everything, even the small of a back of a girl you love, rhythmically moving up and down, keeping her body grounded to the bed so her dreams couldn’t lift her away. He traced his finger down the length of her spine, noticing the hairs on her back stand on end as he awoke each individual nerve. She nuzzled her face into the pillow, letting out a small hum. He drew his hand back, immediately missing the warm sparks she had sent through his finger, his hand, his entire body.

Turning over, she was faced with a sleepy Chris lying on his back. His hair was messy and his chest was bare. He looked so soft she couldn’t help but smile, running a hand down the side of his face and resting on his chest. She loved times like this, the event of the night before evident in the marks on his neck and chest, and probably her own, the warm sun shining softly through the window reflecting the mellow aptmnosphere. The only thing on her mind being Chris. And Jasper.

Jasper.

"FUCK" Her face fell and she shot up from her lying position to a sitting one, pulling the sheets up to cover her bare chest, snatching her phone off the night stand to see numerous missed calls from Jasper and many more unanswered texts.

It was now her turn to run a hand down the side of her own face as she sprung out of bed and desperately started getting dressed.

Chris on the other hand was not so panicked. "You know, if you just told your ass hat of a boyfriend i make you come more than he does, you wouldnt have to pull a muscle every time you get out of my bed." He was now lying on his side, head proped up by his arm. A smug lazy smirk on his face.

"Yeah well if you told youre bimbo of a girlfriend im on top of you more than she is, i wouldn’t be getting out of your bed." Buttoning up her jeans, she faced him with her head tilted, and a srcastic smile plastered on her face.

"We both know thats not true Victoria." He stated matter of factly. Her face grimiced at the use of her full name. "I hate when you called me that." Now pulling her shirt over her head.

Chris pulls himself out of bed and slowls pads his way over to where shes standing, stopping short just a few inches infront of her, one hand resting loosley on his hip. "What would you prefer me to call you? Baby, love, sweetheart, angel, mine? Theres plenty of options." His hands were now resting on her waist, pulling her closer to him, His face leaning down inches away from hers, his lips almost brushing against her own.

She knew the game he was playing, in the time her and Chris have been like this she had studdied him. He worked her meticulously, knowing what buttons to push and when to push them. She was small and delicate. A single gardenrose. He picked her from the earth and stripped her of her thorns and held her in his hands, ever so gently to avoid creasing her petals, ever so softly as to not wakening her stem. He displayed her on a vase and placed it on the main peace to be gazed upon. Admired. Never to be touched. Never to be spoiled. Sitting in the confined of her glass dome. Not a single petal out of place. The picture of perfection.

She wanted to give in so bad, and his sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his waist and the lack of a shirt were seriously gnawing away at her self control.

"Rue is fine." She snapped and pushed him away, grabbing her bag and phone before making a bee line to his bedroom door.

Chris huffed out a laugh through his nose, dropping his head and placing both hands on his hips. "Same time tonight?" His tongue poked at the inside of his cheek, that infuriating smirk still on his face.

"Dont count on it" Rue flung open his bedroom door and made her way to the front door of the house, not even turning back to look at him when she spoke.

"You know i will, sweetheart!" She heard him shout. She couldnt help but roll her eyes, Shaking her head from side to side in annoyance and dissapointment in her self. Chris and Rue hadn’t always been like this. Up until a few long few months ago, it was nothing but pure innocent freindship. Chris always says he dont remember how the pair came to have this complicated 'will they wont they' relationship, but Rue remembers every intricate detail of the breaking point. She remebers his face, his words, his tone, his hands. There was not one single thing she had missed and hadn’t stored away for later use.

February 2023

Neither of them were sure how they ended up in this situation. All that was intended was a smoke sesh after the two of them left a party and went back to his place, leaving their freinds to carry on drinking, but there she was on Chris’s lap, fighting the urge to rock her hips against his while he was confessing his undying love for her.

There was a heavy silence, and the distinct inpression of the walls felt like they were trembling at the tone of his voice.

“It’s kind of like chess. I like to think long before making decisions, I plan it out. But this isnt a matter of logic, quite honestly… It’s like, I don’t know if I should take the risk and move my king out in the open field, or if I should hold him back and keep him protected. What if I can’t back out and I’m cornered and I lose?” Rue honeslty had no fucking clue what he was talking about, the poor girl was so faded, all she could focus on was his hands on her hips.

"I think its better to take the risk than to never know at all..." Her voice was so soft it ignited something within him, a fire only her body could snuff out.

And now 8 rocky and complicated months later, Chris still hadn’t taken the risk, he hasn’t moved his king out into the open feild, but...he might be cornered and he definitely can’t back out.

EEEEK POOKIES IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS !!!!!

i’m pretty sure there’s gonna be another 2 maybe 3 parts so stay tuned!!! love bee 🫶

@christinarowie332 @biimpanicking @sturniolostvrs @soursturniolo @urmyslxt @jcwrites-blog @sturnphilia @sssturniolofart @cupidtoast @lividnity @sukiwaterhousestan @kitaysworld @freshlovehacker @soursturniolo

#mango talks #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x you #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo edit #christopher owen sturniolo #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo oneshot #chris sturniolo imagine

[sanjisboyfie]

๑ keep safe : see you later, vivi! (20)

one piece x male reader

if he's a serial killer,

then what's the worst thing that can happen to a girl,

who's already hurt?

i’m already hurt.

if he’s as bad as they say,

then i guess i’m cursed.

looking into his eyes, i think he’s already hurt.

he’s already hurt. ​​​

『 prev 』

[name] was flying. that was the last thing he remembered, as well as the bright sky above his head. but when he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was a dark ceiling.

then he began hearing the snores around him.

he blinked slowly, wondering where he was. but when he looked to the corner of his eyes and saw luffy’s tuft of black hair, he didn’t think twice in closing his eyes and going back to sleep.

he smiled to himself, reminding himself to apologize to vivi when he woke up. after all, he didn’t get to kill the warlord like he had promised her. instead he left that to luffy.

vivi had herself sitting in between [name] and luffy the whole time they were sleeping. the others had gotten up the next day. and after the treatment chopper and vivi had done for them, they were feeling much better.

it took [name] two days to wake up with enough energy. the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was chopper.

“ah, what a cute mascot we have!” [name] smiled, sleep still in his system.

at the sound of his voice, chopper whipped his head around to look at him and jumped on him immediately.

“[name]!!! you’re awake!” the doctor cried, suffocating [name] with his plush body completely covering [name]’s face. “i was so worried!!” just as [name] was going to comfort the worried chopper, the doctor’s personality did a complete switch. and instead of being worried, he was angry at [name], “there was a bullet lodged right in your stomach, asshole, why didn’t you say anything! you were running around with an open wound, you could've died of blood loss!

“not to mention — if pell hadn't caught you do you realize you'd be dead?! falling from such a height!! not to mention that you weren't completely immune to the explosion either! you're lucky you have no scorch marks!!”

“what's another scar on my body, anyway?” [name] pouted, crossing his arms and looking down at his bandages in interest, “oops, i think i opened the stitches by accident…” the blood was beginning to leak to the surface which made him hum in confirmation, “yep, i surely did!”

“the scars aren't the point! and bastard!!! i’ll kill you for re-opening your wounds!” chopper said, charging at [name] with more wraps of white bandages, “just stay still and listen to doctor's orders!”

“ah, tony-kun, i think we should ease up on the yelling…[name], might not be completely-”

“vivi!!” [name] shouted, outstretching his hands to grab her wrist. chopper jumped aside, huffing with his entire chest in annoyance at [name] who was ignoring his screams.

the rough pull to her wrist made her stumble forward and into [name]’s bandaged, and bleeding, chest.

“sorry, vivi,” he apologized immediately, holding her tight as his chin rested on top of her head, “i wasn’t able to take care of crocodile like i promised. do you think any lowly of me because of that?”

there was silence and soon the only sound in the room was vivi’s whimpers and cries. [name] said nothing and kept smiling at the girl in his arms, squeezing her tight to comfort her.

“[name], thank you,” she cried, lifting her head to show her teary eyes and trembling expression, “if it weren’t for you, pell and this entire country would have been done for!! thank you so much!!”

[name] laughed at her gratitude, the sound of his laughter only sending her into a deeper crying state. chopper sighed, shaking his head at [name]’s manners before leaving the room to grab vivi a glass of water.

“so pell is alright?” [name] asked, scooting backwards on the bed so he could rest his back against the frame. it also made more space for vivi to sit. but instead, she stood up and took ahold of one of the bandage wrappings chopper left behind.

“he’s alright, he’s quite angry with you though, last i checked,” she chuckled, flinching when she felt [name]’s hands wipe the tears away from her cheek.

“and you’re okay?” he asked her gently, holding her face in his palm, “there anything else i need to do to make sure your job as princess is easier?”

vivi shook her head.

the strawhat crew were never going to be forgotten, she’d assure that.

he chuckled at her actions, lightly tapping her cheek with his palm before letting his arm fall.

”i never met any princess before, vivi, but no matter who i meet i doubt they’ll be a better person than you,” he complimented sincerely, resting his hand on top of hers, “your courage is honorable. you’ve saved this country just as much as luffy has,”

she bit her lip, scolding herself for wanting to cry again. [name] noticed it too, laughing to himself, “but you sure are a professional at worrying! c’mon, princess, the people can’t have a leader as emotionally driven as you!!” he teased, obviously joking.

she rolled her eyes, unwrapping the sullied bandages off of his chest. she frowned seeing the scar from where he was shot. it was on his lower abdomen and currently seeping with blood. she disinfected the area quickly, [name] not even flinching at the alcohol being put to his wound, and then wrapped it once more. the entire time she worked she tried to ignore [name]’s e/c eyes watching her.

then she lifted her hand to flick him on the forehead. seeing as she couldn't "harm" any other part of his body without the risk of worsening his injuries.

his injuries…it seemed that it was the only thing she could see. she didn't lift her head once to look into his eyes.

when he noticed a pained look on her face, he moved his fingers to be underneath her chin and made her look at him.

“what’s wrong, vivi?”

she shook her head, lip quivering as she denied to speak her thoughts. [name] didn’t push for answers, instead holding her once more and rubbing up and down her back to comfort her.

“i just think…you’d make a great knight, [name],” she broke the silence, burying her head into his chest. [name] didn’t reply, only looking down at her in confusion. “you've been protecting me since we've met and you've protected this country. despite my attitude to you in the beginning, you've been nothing but kind. thank you so much,”

the two laid there in silence and [name] thought vivi had possibly fallen asleep. but when he moved to lift her up and put her in the bed beside him, so she could be most comfortable, she had stopped him.

”let’s just rest,” she breathed out, falling limp in his arms.

and he wasn’t going to deny her of sleep, so he moved her to be next to him and pulled the blanket over them. he fell back asleep rather easily, his breathing evening out in a matter of minutes.

when chopper came back into the room, he sighed at the two. as a doctor, he was really worried for [name]’s health. but as his friend, he was even more scared. [name]’s condition when pell flew  him to them, they really thought he was done for.

his body was bleeding from almost every crevice and chopper knew blood transfusions were out of the question for [name]. how [name] sufficed such tremendous and dangerous wounds and survived was a mystery. perhaps it had to do with his blood, but genuinely, chopper had no idea. there could be numerous theories he could come up with, but the only real answer would be from [name] himself. 

or...[name] could have a case of recovering freakishly quickly for no apparent reason, something both zoro and luffy both had as well. 

either way, it was something that intrigued and confused chopper at the same time. but if [name] was going to start getting into life threatening situations then it’d be a real cause for concern instead.

he shook his head multiple times, ridding himself of those depressive thoughts and simply climbed up to the foot of the bed. he was planning on just monitoring [name]’s condition, but he soon felt himself getting sleepy too.

then all the bodies laying on the bed were sleeping, luffy resting in the bed next to them.

after another night of recovery, luffy finally woke up. this called for celebration from everyone. a feast was to be had later that night. the moment [name] saw that luffy was up and healthy, he went over to his bedside and immediately smothered him.

luffy grinned, “[name]!! i haven’t seen you in so long,”

“yeah, yeah,” [name] said, nuzzling his face into luffy’s shoulder, “but y’know…i’m angry at you,”

“angry?! why? what’d i do?!” luffy asked with a pout and a whine in his voice.

“you didn’t let me land a single hit on crocodile, you asshole!” [name] shouted before biting into luffy’s rubbery shoulder.

a yowl was released immediately at the action, “hey, hey, hey!!! that hurts, knock it off, bastard!” [name]’s teeth were still digging into the flesh. he pulled his head back, making the skin of luffy’s shoulder stretch. “that hurts a lot! stop it!!”

[name] only grunted in response, not letting his jaw relax.

the rest of the crew watched with deadpan expressions as [name] attached himself onto luffy like a backpack as their captain ran around the room, begging for mercy.

“[name]! quit it!” luffy shouted in frustration, grabbing and slapping [name]’s face in annoyance, “it’s not my fault you couldn’t take care of him yourself! bleh!!” luffy’s tongue stuck out in a taunting manner at [name], which the man didn’t appreciate at all.

“i’ll kill you luffy!” [name] rung his hands around luffy’s neck, shaking him back and forth as he cut off the rubber man’s air supply.

”both of you, enough!!” chopper said, turning into his large form and wrangling [name] off of luffy, holding the two apart as if they were two cats fighting and clawing at each other. the two still tried attacking each other, kicking and punching the air, with sharp teeth barred at each other.

the rest of the crew only sweat dropped at their behavior, internally sighing in relief to see that neither of them had changed after their life-threatening injuries.

the room stayed as chaotic as it could be with an energetic luffy and [name] practically bouncing off of the walls. and it stayed like that until they were called down for their celebration feast.

the crew looked at each other in fear the moment they stepped into the room, hearing the hungry stomachs of luffy and [name] bubbling in anticipation. after seconds of sitting down, the food was presented to them.

[name] and luffy were the main ones who were eating as if their lives depended on it. the captain would use his devil fruit to his advantage, continuously stretching and stealing food off of other people’s plates then shoving it into his mouth before they’d be able to fight back.

[name] on the other hand was consuming things the moment they were set down on the table, not giving the others a single chance to take a piece. sometimes he’d haphazardly throw meat onto one of their plates, but that’d be because he’d take the rest of the food off of the dish and swallow it whole.

“we’ve got a lot, so-” vivi was cut off when [name] shoved noodles into her mouth and grinned as he ate from the same dish.

“ish sho good, ife neba hat noodwes like fis!!” he said, as if anybody could understand what he was saying. he swallowed his noodles, eyes glowing with stars, “wait! wait! wait! let me try your alabasta coffee! it’s gotta be good, huh?! get me coffee, please!” he shouted at no one in particular.

after a couple of minutes of waiting, a freshly brewed cup of hot, black coffee was placed in front of him. he ate a handful more dishes, to give it some time to cool off, before chugging it all down in one go.

tears filled his eyes as he cried for a refill, “it’s all so yummy!”

soon, the entire dining room was filled with laughter. the guards around them couldn’t hold back cackling at their rambunctious behavior and the strawhats themselves were laughing as chopper and usopp both got onto the table and started dancing.

it took a while for them to finish eating, mainly because of luffy and [name], but when they were done eating the most lavish meal of their lives — they were escorted to the bathing house.

[name] had a small towel wrapped around his waist, taking in a deep breath of the relaxing scent that was all around them. then his grin turned devilish as he grabbed ahold of luffy and usopp by their necks.

“hey, hey! no running, we’re gonna crash!” usopp shouted, slapping at [name]’s arm that was practically choking him. luffy didn’t complain though, clapping his hands and cheering as [name] ran.

“let’s go for a swim!!” [name] shouted, throwing the two of them forward and into a deep pool of water that was coming from the grand fountain. when he saw luffy and usopp crash in, he threw off his waist towel and followed soon after. he created a huge splash that soaked almost everyone near them.

“idiot! act more mature!” sanji shouted from the sidelines, his face now drenched with water, “also you guys are disgusting! this is a bath, not a pool!”

“sanji, come on, join us,” [name] said, resting his cheek on his palm. he was propped up against the marble wall that encased the pool of water they were in, a smirk on his lips. “or should i come over there and make you?”

sanji’s eye twitched at the invite, “don’t use that tone with me, shit for brai-”

he couldn’t finish his sentence as [name] was already jumping out of the water and running over to him. sanji’s eye locked in on [name]’s and he visibly cringed as he realized he couldn’t run. and in seconds, he was thrown into the pool of water that usopp and luffy were swimming in.

“zoro!!” [name] shouted, running to his next victim.

“hey, you can’t! i’m washing chopper, so-”

“zoro and chopper!!” [name] corrected, not stopping in his pursuit of collecting the two. he ran over with impeccable speed, throwing the duo in with the rest of the crew. chopper sputtered out water as he reached the surface and zoro simply leaned on his elbows, his hands planted on the bottom of the bath, and spat out a fountain of water from his mouth, a disgruntled look on his face.

[name] grinned, properly joining all of them and grabbing ahold of some of the shampoo and conditioner, “who’s going first?” he invited, showing his lathered hands.

”me! me! me!” luffy shouted, splashing his way over to [name] and sitting in front of him, presenting his hair to be washed.

[name] grinned, leaning down and pressing a chaste kiss on luffy’s cheek before going to wash his hair. luffy giggled at the action, closing his eyes in bliss.

he made sure to massage his scalp, to relax him further. and it worked seeing as luffy completely folded into [name]’s torso in a matter of seconds. after washing out the shampoo and conditioner from luffy’s head, [name] worked on scrubbing his back.

he’d prod and poke at luffy’s flesh every now and then to tickle him, making the captain whine and then laugh.

“alright, you’re all done! who’s next?” [name] invited once more. luffy shot up from his spot in front of [name] and took a position standing behind him. when [name] looked at him in confusion, the ravenette only grinned as he too now had shampoo lathered in his hands.

“i’ll wash your hair, [name]!” luffy proudly declared, making [name] smile in thanks. usopp took a seat in front of [name] and soon a train of washing hair had started. the sniper didn’t hide how vocal he was about the pleasant sensation of [name]’s hands washing his head, making [name] laugh.

“damn, [name]! you’re really good!!” usopp said with a look on his face that screamed pure relaxation, “we gotta take more baths together, i think i’d sleep like a baby every night if i got this treatment on merry,” he drawled on, his eyes shut as if he were about to go to sleep.

[name] worked his hair through usopp’s curls for a little while longer, moving onto conditioning, before announcing that the man was done and clean. usopp shouted his thanks, a pure smile on his face. [name] brought water up to his hair to wash out the product, sighing in delight at the relaxing temperature of the water. 

after luffy and usopp were finished, [name] went over to zoro and roughly took ahold of the short green hair.

“i’m plenty capable of washing myself, no thanks!” zoro rejected, going to move from [name] and to somewhere more secluded, but [name]’s hands firmly planted themselves on his shoulders.

“nope, not taking that as an answer,” [name] grinned, already working his hands through zoro’s short hair, “come on, i’ll give you a massage too,”

zoro groaned, his bottom lip jutting out as his eyes squinted in annoyance. first he was annoyed that [name] insisted on washing him, but now he was annoyed at how good it felt. [name]’s fingers gently washed his hair and massaged his scalp. and then when it finally came to washing down his back, his touch turned firm and completely relaxed his strained muscles.

not to mention, the warm water around them almost made him knock out into a deep sleep right then and there. [name] had his tongue pocking out in concentration, digging his fingers into a particular knot in zoro’s back.

he was humming to himself without realizing it and that’s when zoro really thought he’d fall asleep by accident. the low hum of [name]’s voice, the strong hands massaging his back, and the warm body heat that they were radiating off of each other.

the only reason why he didn’t knock out right then and there was because there was a sudden loud crash coming from behind the two. both him and [name] looked over and saw that half of them were laying down flat on their face. sanji even had a stream of blood coming from his nose.

[name] sighed, putting two and two together, reminding himself to lecture them later for peaking in on the girls. he was too busy scrubbing into zoro’s back that he couldn’t be bothered with it right now.

when the perverts of the bath house finally collected themselves, [name] was sitting in front of zoro and the swordsman was roughly washing him now.

“gentle, zoro, how many times have i told you i’m a sensitive man?!” [name] scolded, slapping zoro’s arm with his towel.

“shut up, i’m not even scrubbing that hard!” zoro shouted in return, but he did let up a very little bit. his eyes scanned over [name]’s muscular back, taking in the sight of [name]’s tattoo. the man in front of him had a very objectively nice figure. his shoulders were wide and his waist was slim. the tattoo on his back only seemed to pronounce these two features. 

zoro coughed at the sight, averting his eyes and quietly telling [name] he was done. [name] sighed in thanks, turning around and leaning on the marble walling of the bath. the two were now facing each other, [name] with a pleasant smile on his lips whilst zoro did anything but look at the said grinning man.

“thank you,” were the king’s words to break the silence. everyone looked at him, eyes widening just a tad when they saw him begin bowing his head down at them, “thank you for saving this country,”

“hey, hey, is it okay…for a king to do such a thing…?” zoro asked slowly, looking at the king who was still bowing down to them.

“this is a serious incident, king cobra! a king should never bow their head to anybody,” igaram said, the blonde looking worried at the king’s actions.

“igaram, authority is something you wear over your clothes. but we’re in the bath, there isn’t such a thing as a naked king,” [name] chuckled at the metaphor, looking at the king in interest. “i’d like to thank you from the bottom of my heart, as a father and as a resident of this land. thank you very much, i really appreciate it.”

luffy laughed his trademark laugh, eyes turning into crescent moons as his pearly whites were on display. the rest of the bath was turned peaceful, a drastic difference from when they first entered.

[name] was mellowed out, having a towel rest on top of his eyes and forehead to cool himself off. he almost fell asleep if it weren't for luffy bouncing over and jumping onto his chest.

“let’s go, [name]! we've been in here for too long! we gotta get dressed snd go now!” he said cheerfully, hugging himself deep into [name]’s torso. [name], used to the man’s close contact, nodded his head in understanding and stood the both of them up.

he had his hands resting underneath luffy’s thighs, carrying him as if he were a baby. the captain at least had some decency to put a towel on over his waist. shamelessly, though, he grinning like a kid who just won candy.  it was obvious luffy had no problem latching onto [name]’s figure and using him as a personal transport.

trusting that the grip luffy had around his waist and neck would be enough to keep him upright, [name] removed his hands from luffy's thighs to tie his own towel around his waist. they met up with the others in the changing room. [name] put on a black set of robes that were set out for them.

luffy got dressed in his own attire as well, but jumped right back onto [name]’s back once they were both wearing clothing. they returned back to the grand room where they were settled down for a conversation on when to leave. luffy rested his chin on top of [name]’s head, legs around his torso to prop himself up to that height. 

“we should be ready to leave by tonight,” nami said first, looking around the room for reactions. [name] agreed, for the most part everyone else did too.

“alright, let’s leave after we eat some more delicious food!” luffy said, completely missing the point. [name] slapped his cheek harshly, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

”no, we leave tonight, right now,” usopp shouted.

“yeah, if we have no other reason to be here, it’s best to leave as soon as possible,” zoro chimed in.

[name] carefully watched vivi’s expression, frowning when he saw her lip quivering as if she were about to start crying. just as he was about to say something to her, a royal guard entered the room and was carrying a den-den mushi for them.

“someone named bon-chan wants to speak with you,” he said to the straw hats, hesitance in his voice.

“who the hell is bon-chan?” the crew echoed in confusion, not recalling anybody with a name like that.

“but he insists he’s your friend, so…” the guard continued, holding the transponder snail out to them.

sanji was the one who got up, picking up the receiving end and immediately an irritating voice filled the room, “hello? hi there!”

and then their line of the transponder snail was immediately slammed down to hang up. the ones who had interacted with the caller all cringed in distaste. it only started ringing again the moment the call ended, earning angry glares from sanji and [name].

luffy stretched and took the snail, picking it up and speaking in a defiant tone, “huh, it’s you! what do you want from us?!”

[name] looking at the snail that mimicked the caller’s expression, grimacing as he could imagine the man spinning around in his pretty ballerina costume as he spoke into the den-den mushi.

“oh? that voice! it must be straw hat-chan! you really surprised me, y’know? you’re so strong!” the voice complimented, making [name]’s look of disgust only deepen.

“what do you want from us, mr. 2?” [name] asked in a deathly serious tone, glaring at the snail.

“no! no! don’t call me mr. 2, yeow!” the voice cried out, panic evident in his voice, “if this signal is caught by the navy, we’ll be in trouble!”

“what do you want from us.” [name] repeated, more stern this time to get to the point.

“oh, i took your ship!”

“that’s not funny!!” zoro, nami, and chopper cried out in unison.

“you bastard! this isn’t a joking matter! tell us where you are right now!” usopp said, pointing a finger at the snail in anger. like the other three, his teeth were barred and sharp as well.

“on your ship!”

“don’t fuck around right now, bon-chan,” [name] spoke in a taunting tone, “we both know what i’ll do to you if you lay a hand on merry!”

“no, no! it’s not like that, geez!” bon clay cried out, “we’re friends, right? i’m waiting for you guys at the upper reaches of the sandora river! but you have to hurry, i don’t know how long i can be here for before the navy finds it!!”

[name] grit his teeth, hanging up the snail and looking at the rest of the crew.

“now, what?”

they all looked conflicted, eyebrows furrowed in thought. they all decided that it’d be better if they left right away, not wanting to leave merry in the care of a past enemy as well as the fact the navy could find it at any second.

the crew began moving, [name] equipping himself with his sword and making sure that the cloth around his wrist was securely tightened.

”everyone…” vivi lowered her head as they all stared at her, waiting for her to continue, “what…should i do?” she softly asked, tone wavering.

a silence passed over all of them before nami spoke up, “listen well, vivi. we’ll give you 12 hours. once we take our ship back at the sandora river, we’ll draw the ship near the eastern harbor just once at exactly noon tomorrow. we probably won’t be able to anchor. if you want to continue traveling with us, that moment is the only chance to come aboard. if that happens, we’ll welcome you…though you’ll become a pirate!”

vivi blinked several times at the invitation, nodding her head in understanding.

“since you’re the princess of a country, this is the best we can do to invite you,” sanji sighed, looking somewhat troubled in having to leave behind vivi.

“come, vivi! definitely come! let’s go right now!”

[name] smacked his hand on luffy’s head, apologetically smiling at vivi. usopp began dragging luffy away and [name] was left to be the last one to scale out of the window.

he walked over to vivi, grinning down at her as he ruffled her blue locks, “this isn’t goodbye, even if you don’t end up coming. i’ll make sure to see you in the future, vivi! all of us!”

she nodded her head, pushing herself forward and crashing into [name]’s chest. the grip she had on his waist was tight, as if she didn’t want to let go. but after a gentle tap on her shoulders from [name], she released him from her hug.

“this was from pell,” she breathed out, handing him a crumpled up letter with his name neatly written on the front. he grinned, recognizing the lettering — thinking back to his impromtu lesson he received from the princess herself on the going merry. it seems even the guards got proper education on higher learning, “i assume it’s his thanks all written out. he was really bashful when he handed it to me,”

“then i’ll read it on merry,” [name] grinned, “vivi, you’re an amazing princess — you’ll make an even stronger queen one day!”

and then he was gone, just like that. he jumped form the window, using the rope to touch ground with the rest of his crew. and vivi was standing there, a blush on her cheeks at his sudden compliment.

but like [name] said, she'd trust they'd see each other again. whenever that time was.

the journey to the ship wasn’t super long, but it left them enough time to think. nami looked particularly forlorn, causing worry for the other crewmates. but when they realized she only looked like that because of beri, they all threw their worries out the window.

[name] had to physically stop himself from beating bon clay to a pulp when they reached merry, choosing to silently walk around the ballerina as they carried all their goods onto the ship.

the ship sailed on once everything was brought on board, bon clay still lingering on their deck. he seemed to bat his eyes whenever [name] walked by, but the man he was trying to woo would only shove his face away with his hand and a grimace.

by the time the sun came up on their journey, they were surrounded entirely by the marines.

[name] grit his teeth in annoyance, holding onto the railing as iron bars were lodged into merry’s wood. he concentrated on one of the ships that was targetting them, waving his hand in the air and causing it to capsize with a humongous wave.

“yes! [name]! keep doing that, whatever that is! keep it up!”

“it takes a lot of energy! i won’t be able to do it for all of them!” [name] bit back then beginning to breathe heavily. he noticed that they were beginning to get surrounded by 8 navy ships now.

“well, do as much as you can anyway! we can’t keep taking hits like that!” nami said, worry etched onto her features.

thankfully, usopp was able to land a cannonball into one of the ships. that bought them more time, but they weren’t going to move from their place. this is where they needed to be. vivi was going to meet them there.

thinking of the princess coming to the harbor and not seeing their ship, it made him infuriated. these marines had to ruin everything!

he turned around, waving his hand once more and causing two more of the ships to crash down.

bon clay began to beg for them to leave, but all of them refused. once luffy mentioned they were waiting for their friend, it seemed to woo the man in acting as a decoy for them.

and as bon clay got the formation to break apart, the strawhats were able to successfully move deeper into the harbor and closer to shore. and the only thing they could do was wait.

vivi’s voice began to ring in the air, making [name]’s face brighten up. he ran to the railing, to search for her at the shore. but gradually, the smile on his face began falling as he saw that she was nowhere to be seen.

she was giving a speech, but not for them. she wasn’t at the shore, which means her choice was obvious.

it did sting a little bit, [name] giving a bitter sweet smile to the country. he wished vivi could have joined them. she felt too close as a crewmate to be anything else, too. a selfish part of him wanted her to choose them over her country, but he knew that that was unreasonable.

“let’s go, luffy,” [name] said softly, patting the strawhat of his captain, “she’s made her choice,”

“but-”

“no, we have to accept it and sail onward,” [name] said, shaking his head at luffy, who was pouting in sadness.

just as [name] was going to turn his back on the shore, sighing in defeat, he heard her call out, “everyone!!”

he turned around in an instant and grinned ear to ear, waving at her. the others began rejoicing, perhaps too soon. since the next words that left her lips made all of them still, “i came to say goodbye,”

“huh? what did she say?” luffy said, the wide grin on his face turning into a flat line.

“i can’t…go with you! thank you so much for everything! i’d like to go on more adventures, but there’s no ignoring that i love this country! so i can’t go!! i…i…i will remain here! but if we ever meet again some day, will you call me your friend again?!”

[name] chuckled at her crying expression, looking at the rest of the crew with a sad smile.

“you’ll forever be our-”

nami and [name] acted in sync, slapping luffy’s mouth shut and onto the deck with grim expressions.

“you can’t! the navy has noticed vivi! if they see us making contact with her, they’ll assume the worst!”

“she’ll become a criminal!” nami added in, tears glistening in her eyes, “let’s part without saying anything!”

[name] pursed his lips, a grin of mischief on his face. he quickly ran to the back of the ship, a smile on his face that he hoped the princess could see. silently, he turned his back to her. he untied the black cloth around his left wrist and stuck it up in the air.

the straw hats joined him by his side, all showing their marks of friendship with pride. despite the cannons that were being shot at them, the rocking of their ship, and the chaos around them — they all stayed still and showed off the black ‘x’ on their left arm.

“set sail!!!”

BONUS : pell’s letter to [name]

[name],

as i am writing this, you are currently in an unconscious state and have been in one since yesterday. it is troubling to think that someone like yourself has been the one protecting princess vivi recently. to think that someone who makes such reckless decision was keeping her safe…it’s most certainly unsettling.

but she’s told me about you — your adventures together and how much you have sacrified for her, plus this instance in which you saved this country and my life, as well as every civilian’s life. i’ve learned from her debt to you, one that she has said she can never repay properly. and i do agree with her.

i could never repay you or properly put into words how thankful i am to you and your captain for keeping princess vivi safe and saving this country from the evil clutches of crocodile. to us, the strawhat pirates will never be forgotten.

the reason why i could not face you in person and instead opted to write you this letter is because of the utter shame i feel in making you be the one to hold the burden of saving the country on your shoulders. if i were more competent, then we would have both been able to save everyone, but instead i proved to still have a ways to go before i can be the perfect guardian for princess vivi and this country.

the princess had told me that my shames and worries were silly, then further reinforced that idea by saying that you were a rather laid back individual who would care for nothing of this sort. but, i can’t push aside my shames at this moment, but i also cannot stay silent in your actions and not show my genuine gratitude.

from one guardian to another, i thank you very humbly in everything you have done — but especially everything you have done for the princess. her smile reaches her eyes now and her shoulders are no longer slouched in stress and in worry of saving her country. but besides that point, i think you alone have saved her as well. saved her from walking down a dark path of loneliness and abandonment.

thank you for not giving up on princess vivi and pushing her forward in returning back home.

take this letter as a means of holding me accountable in the future. if we ever cross paths again, which i think the princess would like very much, then please utilize me as a proper guardian this time and trust in my abilities to prove myself to you. you have done me a great fortune i could never think of properly repaying, but allow me to at least try and hold a candle to the bright flame you have ignited when you saved this country.

yours,

pell.

additionally — i am glad i was at least the one to bring you the joy of flying. hopefully, when we meet in the future, we can go on the same flight together once again.

-

[  .ᐟ ] alabasta arc ends 🥹gonna miss vivi fr i need the straw hats and vivi to reunite in the manga ughhh like rnnnn + i finally caught up w the manga guys!!! i know everything thats going onnn (i had to reread from wci-present) concerningly enouhh i think it took a week?? definitely more than three days...i think

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taglist (lmk if u want to be tagged ! <3 :

@skullr0se , @strawberrii-tea, @triangulartriangles, @anotherlovefool, @haratatsu , @sinmp, @3v37773, @taru-nami, @disc0dild0s, @boredwithlifeatthispoint, @kaulitzer, @notplutos, @cheetosins

#≡;- ꒰ ° keep safe series ꒱ #ks #one piece x male reader #one piece x reader #x male reader #x reader #male reader #one piece male reader #one piece imagines #male reader imagines #anime male reader #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #male reader fanfic #male reader fanfiction

[gazs-blue-hat]

Loving Something So Broken

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Gn!Scarred!Reader (can be read as platonic or intimate)

Word Count: 1,017

AN: inspired by conversations had with @plumteaa-remus

TW-Scars, SH mention, self loathing, body dysmorphia

Summary: Simon is friends with a heavily scarred reader. She is confident in her scars and he wants to know how.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO ANYBODY HERE OR ON ANOTHER SITE TO REPOST, COPY, TRANSLATE OR FEED MY WORK TO AN A.I OF ANY KIND.

GIF by naturecopy

Simon stood at the sink basin feeling disgusted. The mission they had just completed left him with a nasty gash on his temple, one that needed to be stitched. Since he refused to see the medics about it, he was left stitching the wound himself.

Now Simon was no stranger to stitching himself up. He’d done it hundreds of times. But even if he had done it thousands of times, it would never prepare himself for the face he saw in the mirror.

Dark brown eyes that looked oh so tired gazed back at him. He couldn’t stand his face, he absolutely hated it.

The man staring back at Simon Riley was a monster and he knew it. The face of a killer and a man so broken that even he didn’t know who he was.

That wasn’t completely true though.

Simon knew the man that was looking back at him. The same brown eyes were the ones that haunted his past. The same eyes that took him to dirty concerts and made him laugh at death. The same eyes that forced him into the mold he had broken.

Simon looked in the mirror and saw the face of his father.

Simon felt rage well up in his soul as he lifted his hand and punched the mirror to pieces. He didn’t care that his hand was now bleeding. He didn’t care that someone probably heard the mirror shattering. All he wanted was to destroy the face he saw in the mirror.

He didn't hear the door open to his room, and he didn't hear the door of the bathroom opening. He didn't know when he had started crying, but he was well aware of the arms that held him softly and pulled him away from the sink.

“Hey…Simon…hey..” a voice in his ear, a soft one that he knew so well. The voice that told him jokes while waiting for exfil. The voice that hummed lullabies to themselves before they fell asleep. It was you.

“I’ve gotchu. Breathe Simon…” they cooed. Simon clutched at them and buried his face in their chest. He could see the scars that littered their arms and legs. They never hid them, never even tried.

You led Simon to his bed and allowed him to collapse into you. You gently helped him to the floor and hummed sweet words to him. He curled into you, his entire form being sheltered by you.

You knew what it was like to hate the face in the mirror. You understood how it felt to have marks on your body that you despised. But unlike Simon, you had grown to love them. Even the scars from your blades years ago that never seemed to fade completely.

You didn’t tell him to stop crying, or to relax. You knew those words wouldn’t be helpful. He just needed to get it out of his system. Simon was always strong for others, but he rarely was strong for himself.

You gently started to rock back and forth, holding his head with one hand and his hand with another. He squeezed your hand as if it was the only thing tethering himself to this world. The only thing that was keeping him from sinking into the depths of his misery.

Simon soon stopped sobbing, Re placing it with hiccups and sharp inhales.

“I know. I understand.” You whispered. He kept his head pressed against your chest, listening to your beating heart.

“I hate it. I hate them.” He choked out. You nodded, tracing a series of lines on his bicep.

“We all do at first.” You replied, your words kind and honest.

“You don’t hate them. You always…show ‘em off.” He mumbles. You exhale sharply through your nose, a laugh.

“I didn’t always do that. I used to cover them up in all the time. The amount of times I almost got heat stroke from wearing long sleeves and pants in the middle of summer is frankly embarrassing." You say softly. Simon knew you wouldn't lie to him, and he knew that you really meant the words you said. "What made you stop hiding them? What made you stop hating yourself?" He asked. He was sitting up now, but still sitting between your legs. He needed that comfort right now and you were more than willing to give it to him.

"I never stopped Simon. I still hate what I see. I still regret those scars that I caused myself. But I always have to think that they are reminders." You whisper as you start running your fingers through his hair. You were still rocking him back and forth while he held onto you tightly. You could tell he was coming down from his panic. "They're reminders that I'm alive. That I was able to pull myself up and live even though everything around me was trying to kill me." You gently pull him away and direct his head to your forearm. "That's from when I fell on a mission and a rock sliced my arm." You point to another one on your hand. "This is from when I told my friend I could do a front handspring and I missed my mark, breaking the bone." You point to one that goes along your wrist, horizontal. "This is one from Highschool when I was at my lowest point." You then gently place your fingers under his chin and direct his eyes to yours. You press your forehead against his and wipe some of the lingering tears away. "Your scars prove to the world that it couldn't kill you. That you were able to live and to heal from the injury. Sure it might have left a mark on you, but that only shows that you're still going. That you're refusing to let things knock you down." You say. Simon closes his eyes and breathes deeply. He knew he could believe you, you were somehow always right. "You're here Simon. You're here and I'm so proud of you."

And for once in his life, Simon felt proud of himself too.

#simon riley x reader #call of duty #angst and feels #to be linked

[fanaura]

eye-opening ~ part. 2 (sfw)

neteyam x omaticayan reader

in y/n's POV this time!

synopsis: you don't know what is going on between you and neteyam - so you plan to find out.

a/n: i'm sorry if y'all were waiting so long i'm a very popular and busy gyal - please enjoy there WILL be more to come from these two :)

Home is finite. Home isn’t always a place. It could be a person, a thing, an emotion. Had I always a place to sleep, a place to take cover in danger? Yes. But I had never felt truly at home with someone, never felt I was able to go to someone with anything and not feel judged. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. I’m only 18. I have time.

I lay resetlessly in my hammock, my most recent interaction with Neteyam replaying in my mind. I had tried to pretend that my - very obviously planned out by mother - instruction to hunt with the male did not make me want to die. Every time he looked at me, my pulse beat at an alarming rate. He was so damn perfect it wasn’t fair. I spent virtually the entire journey trying to figure out something to say. I so desperately hoped Neteyam would just break the silence with one of his stupidly cute quips or teases, but he stayed just as silent as I did. As I usually do, I quickly began thinking of all the reasons for this. Does he hate me? Does he know of my feelings?

These thoughts quickly dissipated soon after, every touch of skin on skin set me alight. In those few seconds we stared at each other, I attempted to ingrain all his forever pleasing features into my brain, his bioluminescent freckles like I took some paint and marked all my favourite parts of him - his nose, his eyes, his mouth, his neck, his back, his shoulders - the list was endless.

It’s been a week, and we have not spoken since. With ours being such a tight-knit clan, it was impossible to avoid him and his presence. We didn’t speak when we saw each other, only stealing quick glances every now and then. I didn’t know what to do. He had never showed interest in me before other than being purely platonic, only thinking of me as his sister’s friend that he liked to mess with. I had thought of him the same way - even if I had had a small crush on him when I was young - until now, when his arms and legs turned from boyish lank to lean muscle, soft child-like facial features morphing into mature angles and a sharp jawline. The face and body of a future Olo’eyktan. To be honest, I had absolutely no clue how he thought of me. Our most recent exchange had left me confused. I came to the conclusion that i had to talk to him, even if it didn’t go well. Even if he shattered my heart into a million tiny pieces. I had to find out what this new and familiar tension meant.

Everyone was sitting all around Hometree, chatter of the People in Na’vi and the smell of our native foods in the background. I spotted Neteyam. He sat right up near the base of the sacred tree, eating silently with his siblings and parents around him. I made my way over to him, carefully stepping over people, trying to avoid their tails and feet as I did so.

Before I reached him, his eyes were already set, I could feel them burning into me. Looking straight through and seeing everything. I schooled my face into calm as I spoke to my Olo’eyktan, his own eyes watching me with a spirited curiosity.

“Oel ngati kameie,” I said gesturing to him and his mate, both of them returning the favour. I turned my face slightly to right to make eye contact with Neteyam. My breath caught as I found him already staring at me. Nothing had ever taken more effort in my life to keep myself tamed, my features relaxed. I actioned the sign of respect to the boy, he did the same. “ I need to talk to you,” I said with a peaceful smile, my head flicking back in direction. I almost felt bad for pretending that I was not screaming internally, but I did not know what else to do in front of everyone. I thought I heard his siblings - Lo’ak and Kiri - whispering and snickering next to us, seated and watching with amusement.

Neteyam shot to his feet. “Yes! Of course,” he said quickly.

We walked wordlessly away from Hometree, the feeling of my bare feet walking along the ground, the sounds of my home’s fauna calling out in the light of eclipse kept me grounded and sane as I worked my way through every possible way this conversation could go. As I thought through them, I realised with a sickening jolt that there were more ways this could go wrong than it could any way else. It’s fine, I thought, at least by then we’d know.

Once we reached a flat patch of grass, far away from anyone within earshot, I turned around to see Neteyam behind me, his hazel eyes fixated on me still, locked in a trance he snapped out of as soon as i was facing him. Those looks. Those looks that sent my mind spinning.

We looked at each other, me standing with my arms crossed, mellowed facade dropped. Neteyam opened his mouth, hesistant.

“So you- um, you wanted to talk to-”

“What the hell was that?” I asked. His gorgeous face tightened and bunched together. He knew what I meant.

“What do you- uh-”

“You need to stop it.” I said. He winced, as if he expected for me to say something like that. He didn’t go to say anything, so I continued.

“You need to stop confusing me with your stupid looks and your stupid pretty face and your stupid body and just- stop!” I dropped my arms from being crossed, now both of them stiff next to me.

Neteyam’s face wasn’t pinched anymore, his eyes searching mine. His mouth twitched and turned into one of his arrogant smirks.

“You think my face is pretty?” He said with an amused tone, the first real thing he’s said to me in a week. He grinned at me, eyes flicking down at my lips for a split second.

“Ugh shut up,” I said, making the distance between us and wrapping my arms around his neck in a bone-crushing hug.

I wanted to do more, and I could feel that Neteyam did too. I squeezed the boy tightly before releasing him a bit, arms lingering on his shoulders and neck. His large hands were seated at my waist, and I ached for him to touch me all over. To touch me everywhere he wanted to. Neteyam’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked, the question covering his face in a new expression. He was making sure I actually wanted this.

I couldn’t bear it anymore, I planted both hands on either side of his face.

“Yes, you skxawng!” I exclaim, and pressed my lips to his.

It was electric. A missing part of my soul had finally come alive. The heat of our bodies and mouths began matching each other’s as my hands raked through his hair and his strong arms wrapped tightly around my waist, holding me securely against him.

PART 3!!

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YOU SUCKERS. I AM SO SORRY BUT I WANTED TO SPLIT THIS INTO TWO PARTS BECAUSE I’M MEAN AND EXHAUSTED.

I’LL SEE YOU ALL LATER WITH PART 3!! SEND IN REQUESTS ON MY ASK BUTTON IF YOU FEEL SO INCLINED! have a lovely day/night/morning! i lovee you all you freaky freaks

taglist:

@justababygaysworld (YOU KEEP ME ALIVE ILY)

@fluloa (MY FAVOURITE DIRTY DIRTY FIC WRITER IN. THE. WORLD.)

@s1enn409 (ur my biggest fan and my first follower ily)

#avatar smut #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #avatar #avatar fanfiction #neteyam #neteyam x y/n #sully family #i know im a bitch for leaving u hanging #fanaura's freaks

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Warning: angst hurt/comfort fluff mean!Eddie, slight toxic Eddie unprotected sex. Slight physical altercation between reader and eddie. Hints at past abuse. Mentions of face slapping.

18+ minors do not enter

Summary: This is a part 2 to my other mean!eddie fic.

Part:1

You awoke to a throbbing pain on your lower backside with your head throbbing. Shifting slightly, you noticed something heavy dropped over your body it was an arm. You recognize the tattoo and realize who it belonged to. Eddie, your eyes widen slightly he never left you last night. He stayed with you and slept in the same bed cuddling. If not for the events that took place last, you would have thought this was sweet. Seeing him only you made feel worse you wanted him to leave but you also wanted him to stay and beg you to forgive him. Would he even apologize again? Did he only say sorry because you stopped the session and he felt he had to?

Moving his arm away gently, you try to get out of bed and head for the shower as quietly as you possibly could. Heading to the bathroom, you shut the door and lock it. You hope he leaves while you're in here, and the by time you're done, you wouldn't have to face him. Examining your body and face, you notice the handprint, still marking your cheek lightly. Turning around, you look at your backside and notice the red angry lashes he gave you. They covered your entire ass and back of your thighs. The more you looked at your body, the more you realized just how angry he was with you.

Getting in the shower washing the smell of him from you, you think back and realize this wasn't the first time he's done something shitty towards you. This was just the first time you reacted, showing your true emotions. You remember when he first suggested the arrangement and agreeing to try it. Eddie had been so good and tentative with you always making sure he took care of you when you needed him the most. But he was still a man who would occasionally see other women, too. Since the too of you were not dating just and only friends who did things most friends don't do with one another. He'd tell you all about his conquests over takeout. Eddie would tell you how he took them out to dinner and fucked them, but leaving their place in the morning before they woke up. He would tell you these things, and you would engage like it never bothered you, and you put on quite a show. He never suspected you were hurt when you found out he would stay with them afterward. He never stayed with you after. Sometimes, when he would come to your place looking like he just took a fresh shower. You always wondered when he fucked you did he just get done fucking someone else just hours before.

A light tapping on the bathroom door pulled you from your thoughts, and your stomach dropped.

"Hey, uh, we need to talk about last night. im not leaving until we do. " He said behind the door.

You just kept ignoring him, hoping he would go away. Getting out of the shower, you composed yourself and put your robe on. Slowly opening the door, you peak out, checking to see if the coast is clear. The apartment is quiet and dark. Maybe he changed his mind and left. Walking down the hall towards the kitchenette, that's where you see him. He's sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. You decide to just give him the silent treatment unit he took the fucking hint and left you alone. He notices you and looks up watching you move around.

"Im sorry okay i fucked up. i broke a rule, and im sorry."

Still ignoring him, you make your way around the kitchen making coffee. Trying not looking his way, knowing if you saw his sad eyes, you would cave. This isn't about him and his feelings. This time, it's about yours.

"So you're just gonna give me the silent treatment and not even accept my apology?" He argued

Still not looking his way. You're trying to ignore him, but you can't help the anxiety you're feeling at the moment. That's when you feel him grab your arms and turn you around to face him. He's still holding your arms a little too tight for your liking, but he, when he notices the slight fear on your face he eases up. He doesn't let go he's holding your arms to keep you in place so you don't move away from him. He looks angry, and his eyes look tired.

"Say something, please dont ignore me. i can't take it. " he pleaded to you.

You say nothing, looking off to the side, not wanting to see the desperation painted on his face. He shoves you back, making you stumble into the counter. He moves to go sit on the couch again, rubbing his temples. He's acting entitled like all is forgiven once he says, "im sorry." That's when you lose it throwing whatever you could find near you. Picking up a roll of paper towels, you chuck it at his head. With a soft thud, Eddie looks up surprised at first, then he chuckles.

"Did you just fucking hit me with paper towels?" He says to you defensively

"Im over her fucking apologizing to you and you hit me with fucking paper towels" raising his voice. You hate it when people do that to you. You've been really sensitive if someone raised their voice to you. Fighting back tears, you hate this entire situation. You've never fought like this with him before, and now he's raising his voice at you. You don't know why you threw them at his head. Maybe it was him shoving you or just everything that has happened all coming to a head.

"Can you please just leave me alone." You finally speak in a broken voice.

Shaking his head no, you just break down, and he rushes to you, guiding you to sit on the couch with him. "Sweetheart, we need to talk about what happened. I can't just leave knowing I hurt you the way that i did last night." Eddie says, cupping your cheeks in his large hands. Looking down thats when you notice, he's still in his clothes from last night. He fell asleep holding you while you cried in his arms.

"Im sorry i made fun of you last night. Im sorry i broke our rule because i couldn't handle the thought of you being embarrassed by me." He confessed.

He continues to confess while holding your face in his hands. Tears brimming his big brown eyes. " I do want to be with you. I always have. im just scared I'll be like him.""

"Like, who, Eddie?"

"My father, i didn't have the best example growing up of how a man should treat his girl. Im afraid I'll hurt you the way he hurt my mom."

Now it was his turn to break down and cry this time. He let's go of your face and turns away. You had never seen him this small before. The Eddie you're used to was confident and strong. He's the first person you would run to for protection, and now he's here looking like the scared little boy he used to be. He spoke up again.

"I couldn't live with myself if i hurt you like that," He said, trying to compose himself.

That's when he looks at your face, and he breaks again, kissing your cheek. "I guess it's too late. im already like him." He told you while inspecting the handprint on your cheek.

"You're not like him, eddie. we were just playing you didnt mean it that way. im fine." You said trying to convince him.

Shaking his head, " i am though i was angry last night because i was feeling insecure, and i hit you."

"You checked on me though if you did want to continue, you wouldn't have stopped." You told him.

"I shoved you over there into the counter that wasn't us playing," He countered.

He begins to cry again, and you pull him to your chest, rubbing his head. Shushing him and rocking back and forth gently until he calms down. Eddie looks up at you. Tears staining his rosey cheeks.

"Can we cuddle on the couch....please? " He sounds so broken.

Nodding, yes, he moves to lay down on his side with you lying down with your back to his chest. Rubbing his forearm up and down, you can hear him sniffle behind you.

"Princess, can i make you feel good? " He asks whispering in your voice.

"Yes, sir." He responds back.

You go to move off the couch, but he holds you tighter to him. "I wanna stay like this, and i want you to call me Eddie, not sir." Smiling slightly at you.

"Okay, eddie, can you please help me feel good?" Biting your low lip and batting your lashes at him.

He slowly opens your robe and palms your breasts while kissing and sucking at your neck. He bites and licks at it, moving up your jaw. He kisses your lips with so much desperation. His kiss is sloppy, and his tongue fights for dominance with yours. Moving his hand from your breast but not before he pinches your nipple slightly, causing you to gasp. He drags his fingertips down your abdomen softly, moving closer to your sex. He rubs his fingertip over your slit and you push your ass back into his cock. Eddie groans at the feeling of you rocking your backside into him while he teases you.

He uses his middle and ring finger to rub soft slow circles on your clit. You break away from the kiss moaning his name. He keeps working your clit in small circular motions causing you grind harder into his hard cock that's trapped in his pants.

"Please, Eddie, i need you. Dont tease me. You owe me this. " You plead in desperation.

Taking pity on you he scoots back for a moment to pull his thick cock from his pants. He pulls you back close to him and pulls your leg up. He glides his cock in between your wet fold and moans at how soft you feel. Once he's done coating his cock in your juices he slowly buries himself inside of you inch by inch. You and Eddie both moan out at the feeling of each other. He stays still for a moment, wanting you to get adjusted to him. Patting his thigh, giving him the okay to start moving. He grabs your leg again and starts pumping into you hard and fast. Each time, he pulled back and plunged back in with more force. The gentle Eddie from a few moments ago was gone. He bites down on the back of your shoulder to keep from moaning. Causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain. His thrusts are not slowing down, and you can hear him mumbling about how tight you are under his breath. You're both moaning so loud you're sure the neighbors are going to complain. The slapping of skin and the wet slick noise of your pussy is driving him crazy.

"You're sooo fucking good" He told you clenching his teeth."

Can, I come Eddie please? you ask him biting a moan back.

He releases the tight grip he had on your leg to move and play with your clit. Rubbing it in tight circles. You push back against him helping him fuck into you.

"Oooh, eddie, I'm so close." You moan out.

"Me too, baby, go a head and let go for me. I got you," he says breathlessly.

He rubs your clit faster this time and you come hard around his cock. Clenching and pulsing around him, you moan out his name so loud it echoed off the walls. He starts fucking you hard and faster than before. The closer he's getting to coming, the harder he starts fucking you throwing his back he groans loudly.

He's so drunk on you that he's blabbering obscenities behind you, and you swear he just drooled on your naked shoulder. With a few more hard thrusts he's spilling his cum inside you.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, fuuuuck. I'm sorry. He moans out pumping every bit of cum into you.

Both of you lay there breathless. Eddie kissed the side of your head. He slowly removes his cock from inside you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck and gives you gently light kisses. You lay there waiting for him to speak up, hoping he meant what he said earlier. He eventually breaks the silence.

"So would you like to out on date tonight?" He asks you shyly.

"You mean like a date date?" Looking over your shoulder to him.

He looks down at you, smiling before kissing you on the nose.

"Yeah, I mean like a date date. That's what boyfriends do with their girlfriends," He teases.

Eddie jumps up off the couch and lifts you up, putting you over his shoulder, swatting your ass playfully. He makes his way down the hall towards your bedroom. Throwing you onto the bed, he jumps on top of you, making you squeal. Both of you are giggling like school children. He pulls you to straddle his waist.

"Tell me what you need and I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything." He looks up at you with those big brown eyes you love so much.

"I just want you."

"You already have me, princess," He says, pulling you down to kiss him.

Tagging: @ali-r3n @edsforehead @zestychili @eddies-bunny @azydrateanatomy @pleasinghellfire @sweet-villain @micheledawn1975 @witchy-munson

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #dom!eddie #sub!reader #mean!eddie munson x reader #toxic!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #eddie munson smut #my writing

[midwestmade29]

Just The Way You Are 🥰

Thanks for the request @officialchristiancagebbgirlblog! I could relate to the topic of your request 100%. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it 🖤 Word count: 1,146 Divider by: @saradika-graphics *GIF is not mine Original Request:

Could I please request a turtleneck Christian Cage fic where he helps the reader feel better about herself after self confidence issues regarding her weight arise please?

Disclaimers: None. All fluff 🙂

When you're feeling down about yourself, Christian reminds you just who you are...

Christian had been written off TV for a while after earning a much-needed break. He just lost his TNT title to his childhood best friend, so to give his mind and body a rest, the two of you were set to go on vacation. Through the entire planning process, you had been so excited to get away with your man and soak up some rays, but unfortunately the closer the vacation got, the more self-conscious you started to feel. Every commercial, magazine and internet post you saw were of women who looked differently than you. They appeared to be flawless from head to toe, from their skin to their small waistlines and everything else in between. The bikinis they wore along with the dresses and other summer clothes were cute, some even sexy, but you had a hard time picturing yourself in them. Your self-confidence was taking a major hit and it started to rob you the joy you once felt about the vacation.

One afternoon, you were trying on some of the clothes you ordered for your trip. There were several dresses, shorts, tank tops and bathing suits you hoped would bring back some of the excitement you had lost, but no such luck. All you saw in the mirror when you stood in front of it was a stretch mark here and a stretch mark there, fabrics that seemed to hug every one of your curves in the wrong way, and patterns and colors that made you stand out more than you wanted them to. When frustration got the best of you, you let out a loud groan and plopped down on your bed with tears in your eyes. A soft knock on the doorframe caught your attention, pausing your thoughts momentarily. “Everything okay in here?” Christian asked softly. He looked around the room and noticed all the pieces of clothing thrown around with tags still attached, most of them inside out and starting to get wrinkled. He walked over to the bed and smiled down at you, but you only covered your face with your arms in response. “Hey, what’s wrong baby? Talk to me,” he murmured as he sat down. “I’m just having trouble finding things to wear for our vacation. Nothing seems to fit right, or I don’t feel attractive in it. This would be easier if I looked like the girls in the pictures,” you said with a sniffle. “I’ve been feeling bad about myself lately,”

Christian propped himself up on his elbow, listening intently to your thoughts and feelings. While he disagreed wholeheartedly about what you were saying, he never interrupted you or made you feel bad for it. Only when you started to apologize for your current state did he stop you mid-sentence, “No need to apologize Y/N. Your feelings are important to me. You can always talk to me about anything,” Christian got up and stood at the foot of the bed, extending his hand to you before walking you over to the mirror. He stood behind you with his chest pressed against your back, gazing lovingly at your reflection.

“Ugh, do we have to stand here? I look terrible,” you groaned. You averted your eyes from the mirror and Christian, but he gently grabbed hold of your chin and turned your head back. “Yes, we do. I have some things I want to show you,” He wrapped one of his arms around the top of your ribcage, resting it beneath your breast before speaking softly, “These here are just one of my favorite parts of you. Do you want to know why?” Your cheeks flushed when you thought about the answer, but Christian surprised you when he explained something totally different. “Your chest is one of my favorite places to rest my head. At the end of a long day when we’re snuggled in bed, I love laying there and listening to your heartbeat. It’s soothing, especially when you run your fingers through my hair,”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sweet remarks, but he wasn’t finished yet. He placed both of his hands on your hips, gripping them lightly and grinning. “Your hips are another favorite of mine. I love the way they look in your jeans and how they can make any dress you wear that much sexier. The way they sway when you walk makes me stare in awe every time,” Goosebumps spread all over your body as his fingertips tickled your skin on the way to his next destination. He grabbed the outside of your thighs and squeezed, but this time you cringed at the handful he had. “Please don’t tell me you like those too,” you begged. He ignored your request and continued, “Now these, these are the best. Not only do they look great in shorts, but they look even better when they’re wrapped around me,” You gasped at his last comment and turned around to face him, playfully smacking him on his chest. Your laughter filled the room causing Christian to smile brightly.

He took you in his arms, embracing you as he kissed the top of your head. “You are stunning, Y/N. I love every inch of you, every curve. I don’t want you to forget that. No one else compares to you and they never will. I have one more thing I want to show you,” he said before releasing you. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened his gallery before handing it to you. “I want you to look through all the pictures. You’ll notice there’s several of the same kinds because nearly all of them are of my favorite thing,” Christian instructed. As you tapped and scrolled through the gallery, tears started to well up in your eyes again. This time, they were happy tears. Almost all of his photos were of you, or of you and Christian together. There were photos of you sleeping, ones of you dressed up and some of you in your sweatpants. Pictures of you without makeup on and candid ones that you didn’t even know he took. The ones you noticed that he favorited were pictures you would never have considered to be good ones or flattering of you, but he loved them.

You handed his phone back to him, nearly knocking him over from the force when you hugged him. You buried your face in his chest, holding onto him tightly as you thanked him for everything, “This was so sweet, Christian. Thank you for helping me see myself through your eyes and making me feel better,”

“Of course, baby. You’re perfect in every way, there’s nothing I would change about you. I’ll always be here to remind you exactly who you are, and that’s the most beautiful girl in the entire world,” Christian said lovingly in between planting kisses all around your face.

#christian cage #jay reso #aew fanfiction #aew #all elite wrestling #fanfiction #fanfic #captain charisma #instant classic #christian cage fanfic #christian cage fluff #christian4peeps #christian cage imagine #christian cage x reader #aew fluff

[whump-about-it]

Bedridden/ Semiconscious/ Light Sensitivity

@whumpril day 28 

CW: capture, implied torture, implied strangulation, concussion, prescription drugs (administered responsibly), abandoned whumpee, disregarded mental state. 

Caretaker woke up with a start. They hadn’t remembered falling asleep in the first place, but it had been the kind of slumber that had left them wondering where they were and what century it was. It took a few groggy seconds before they were able to recognize that they were lying in a bed in the infirmary, with Medic staring at them from across the room with an eyebrow raised. 

“Bad dream?” Medic asked sounding half amused, half concerned. 

“Did I pass out?” Caretaker ignored Medic’s question and rubbed the rest of the sleep out of their eyes. The lights in the infirmary were too bright. Caretaker had been awake for all of 30 seconds and they were already getting a headache from the harsh they were. Then again their whole body was sore. It felt like they’d been hit by a truck. 

“Only from exhaustion” Medic told them and put down the paperwork they’d been reading when Caretaker woke. “Though you do have a mild concussion. I finished your stitches and you were out like a light. I didn’t even get a chance to give you pain meds. You want any?” 

Right. They remembered the stitches, and the concussion. And last night. Whumper. The rescue.

“Whumpee!” Caretaker swung their legs over the edge of the bed in a sudden panic. The overly bright lights and their body pains temporarily forgotten. The panic was partially quelled though when they immediately saw Whumpee lying in the bed next to them. 

They didn’t look good by any stretch. Their entire face seemed to be one big bruise. One of their arms were in a sling, and the other was heavily bandaged from shoulder to wrist. There were shallow cuts on their neck, poking out from under a bandage Caretaker knew was covering a ligature mark. They had been with Whumper for less than a week, but they looked like they’d lost a significant amount of weight. And the very little unbruised skin they could see was pale and waxy. 

Whumpee did however, look alive. Caretaker could see their chest rise and fall as they breathed and a screen next their bed showed a steady heartbeat. 

“They’re still stable” Medic reassured Caretaker as they stood up painfully (one of their own injuries included a twisted ankle) and hobbled over to Whumpee’s side. 

“They haven’t woken up at all yet. But vitals have been regular and there’s no internal bleeding. They’re going to make a full recovery” Medic nudged Caretaker and held out a glass of water and few painkillers for them to take. Caretaker nodded absently and finished examining Whumpee before stumbling back to their own bed and taking the things from Medic. 

“Physically maybe” They mumbled. Medic hadn’t been there. They could see Whumpee’s injuries. But they hadn’t seen where they’d been kept. What Whumpee had been through. Or how Caretaker had had to beg them trust them to come with.

“Well, yeah. But that’s a bridge we’ll cross when we get to it.” 

Medic watched Caretaker take the pain medication and then took the glass back from them before speaking again. 

“Team Leader came in while you were asleep. They wanted me to tell you, that they’re going to skin you alive for going alone without their authorization, and to go give them a debrief as soon as you’re conscious again.” 

Caretaker groaned. They knew they had gone against Team Leader. Sneaking out to go rescue Whumpee. But all things considered they felt justified, and they weren’t in the mood for a tongue lashing about it. 

“In that case, I’m still asleep until further notice.” 

Medic hummed their understanding and went back to their paperwork. 

“You can’t hide here forever” They said nonchalantly.  

“I know, just give me some time to figure out how to nicely tell Team Leader “I told you so”“ 

“You act like you know Whumper.” 

“Nah,” Caretaker shrugged squeezing their eyes tightly closed. The lights really were bright. “But I know their type. Sadistic assholes, who have a grudge against the world, and need to feel powerful in anyway possible.” 

Medic looked up from their paperwork. Their eyebrow raised again. 

“I’m not about to unlock another tragic back story am I? I get enough of that between Whumpee and Team Leader.” 

Caretaker smirked and shook their head. 

“Nothing you don’t already know” They assured them “I used to be one of the bad guys, remember?”

“Hmm” Medic hummed then noticing Caretaker’s discomfort with the lights, reached out and dimmed them ever so slightly. Caretaker sighed in relief and opened their eyes again. 

The whole team generally ignored that specific part of Caretaker’s background. Normally they were thankful for it, but in certain situations, Whumpee being captured having been one of them, Caretaker would have been appreciated their expertise being taken into account. In this situation, they had known Whumper wasn’t merely going to hold Whumpee hostage. And the longer the team sat around trying to come up with a plan to rescue them, the slimmer their opportunity became. 

Caretaker and Medic were pulled from their individual thoughts when a strange mumbling noise came from Whumpee’s bed. They were both on their feet within seconds, crowding around Whumpee’s as they finally stirred after hours of complete motionlessness. 

“Caretaker?” Whumpee mumbled in a weak, breathy voice. Their eyes cracked open a bit, but it was clear they weren’t really seeing anything. 

“Yeah, Whumpee I’m right here.” Caretaker said trying to sound soothing. “What do you need?” 

Whumpee turned their head half way towards Caretaker, clearly trying to focus on them. Caretaker and Medic waited with baited breathe for Whumpee to try and speak again. However, instead of doing that, Whumpee suddenly sat up much in the way Caretaker had when they first woke up and started making a weak but obvious effort to get out of bed. The screen next to them began to show their heartrate rising rapidly. 

“No, no, no, no, no” Caretaker and Medic both began to say in near unison. Reaching out their hands to grab at Whumpee and force them back down as gently as possible. 

“Stay in bed Whumpee.” Caretaker insisted “don’t try to get up.” 

Whumpee fell back against their pillows heavily and almost relieved, but seemed confused in their semiconscious state. 

“But-” They breathed “You said we had to go” 

“Yeah,” Caretaker told them “But we did already. You’re safe now. But you need to stay in bed. Okay?”

Whumpee nodded, and their half lidded eyes slid the rest of the way closed. They reached out their better arm and tried to grab at Caretaker with almost no strength. Caretaker took Whumpee’s hand in their own and stroked the top of their head with their other. 

“Why?” Whumpee slurred after a moment. 

“Because it will make you better faster” 

Whumpee shook their head, but they seemed like they were loosing consciousness again. 

“Why... didn’t team come.” they slurred “Why... did they... leave me there?” 

With that Whumpee fell completely limp back into their pillows, slipping back into unconsciousness once again. 

Caretaker continued to hold Whumpee’s limp hand as they and Medic watched the heartrate display on the screen go back to a normal rate. The two then looked at each other. Medic’s eyes were wide, their usual snarky expression absent. Caretaker however pursed their lips with contempt. 

“Well, Medic” They said flatly. “Here’s the bridge.” 

#whump #whump drabble #whumpblr #whumpril2023 #whumprilday28 #bedridden #semiconsious #light sensitivity #whumpee x caretaker #whumpee x medic #caretaker x medic #concussion #capture #captivity #torture #rescue #abandoned whumpee

[hereforreadandwrite]

Chapter four

Masterlist

/!\ Miscarriage/!\

You came back to the longhouse, but you were strange. He knew what you went through was traumatic, but there was something else. You hid your body, covering your loosest clothes, you hid the right side of your face. You refused to look at him and you avoided him. You were hiding from Ivarr. You were hiding something from him and it was starting to annoy him. Ivarr tried to give you space and time, as Ubba and Halfdan advised him to do. They thought that with time to yourself, you would get better, but you still refused to talk to him.

You had refused to speak to him for four moons now.

Four moons since you refused to sleep with him.

You've been avoiding him for four moons.

You had completed several tasks that allowed you to move as much as possible. By Odin, you even agreed to work in the stables as long as you stayed away from Ivarr.

This time he had had enough. Their brothers could go to Helheim with their council. Ivarr was tired of seeing his wife drift away from him and become nothing more than a shadow of herself. Ivarr would go deep into the forest to find you, training you in archery. You drew the string of your bow, letting go of the string to see your arrow go into the ground, far from your target. At the end of your nerves, you threw your bow on the ground. Now that you had lost the use of your right eye, you could no longer aim properly. You had shot around twenty arrows, none of which had touched your target. You drew your axe, throwing it at the target, but like your arrows, it fell on the dead leaves.

“Shit!” you cried, running your hands over your face. "I'm tired of it!”

Ivarr leaned against the tree, watching you pick up your arrows and axe. When you turned towards him, you froze when you saw your companion. You sighed, putting your arrows back in your quiver.

"What are you doing here?" you asked, hanging your axe on your belt.

"I was looking for you. Is that bad?"

“I would have thought you would have gone to fight Bretons or Saxons.”

"The Bretons ran off with the pig's wife and apparently we can't go after the Saxons because of that idiot Bishop and Ceolbert," Ivarr growled.

“Normally, that doesn’t stop you,” you said, turning your back on him to detach your target. “What’s stopping you?”

“My wife stops me.”

You froze when you heard him say that. Was Ivarr worried about you? It was new. You turned to Ivarr. The Boneless looked at you with his gaze that seemed to penetrate your entire being. You swallowed, clutching the target to your chest. Gods, you didn't like it when he looked at you like he did. It always made you lose your means, but with their marks King Rhodri had left you.

You hated them.

You hated your body.

You had several other marks of war, but these showed your helplessness. So you made the decision to hide them. You hid your bruised eye and scars under layers of bandages and hid your body under thick furs. Ivarr lifted himself from the tree, moving closer to you. Your grip tightened, even more, on your target.

"There's something you're not telling me, woman," he said darkly. "What did Rhodri do to you? Did he make you do-"

"No! No, he didn't do anything like that."

"So what happened? What else did he do, (Y/N)?"

What else did Rhodri do?

You didn't want to think about it anymore, that's why you were always moving. You didn't want to think about this event anymore. You looked at Ivarr out of the corner of your eye. Should you tell him? Ivarr growled, spreading his arms, waiting for your response. You bit your lip. You tried to find your words. How could you tell him something like that? Ivarr was a drengr. This sort of thing was not important to a drengr. To die with dignity in combat is the goal of a drengr. Ivarr's objective. He always shouted it loud and clear. He always told you that you would be together in Valhalla, that you would both fight and drink and fuck in the great hall. Maybe you should have focused on that goal.

Maybe... you should have joined Valhalle sooner.

Maybe.

"We are drengr. Our role is to fight and reach Valhalla. That's why we are born. That's why we die. We live for nothing else, " you said, turning to Ivarr. "I repeat that to myself. Day after day. I focus on the most menial tasks to keep my mind occupied and not think about that day and what he did. I...he trampled on him like if he was just a common insect."

“Who did Rhodri step on (Y/N)?”

"Our baby... he... he trampled on him..."

Ivarr looked at you without knowing what to say or what to think. A baby? It was impossible. You never had the build of a pregnant woman. You continued your training as always. You fought against Saxons. You got punched in the stomach. Ivarr ran his hands over his face, pacing as he digested this news.

"How...? When...? You... you weren't pregnant when you were..."

"I was, but I didn't know it. He... he wasn't bigger than that," you said, pointing to the space with your thumb and index finger. "He looked like a larva... but... he was our baby... Rhodri had hit me so hard in the stomach. It hurt so much, but I... I didn't expect to see it. I tried to hide it. I hid it in a piece of cloth. I wanted to bury it. But... Rhodri saw it. He snatched it from me and... he trampled on him like he was crushing a common insect. I... I couldn't do anything. I... I could just watch him trample on him again and again... he didn't care. Nothing was left."

You could no longer hold back your tears as you thought about this scene. You saw again this little thing in your underwear that you hid a piece of fabric. You saw again Rhodri snatching it from your hands to throw it on the ground and stomping on it with rage. You screamed and cried for this child you couldn't bury. You cursed Rhodri for doing what he did.

You were surprised to see Ivarr turn on his heel and walk away from you. Where was he going? Why did he leave you alone?

"Ivarr?! Where are you going?! Ivarr!!"

Ivarr ignored your request. He continued to walk away until he disappeared from your field of vision. You had just lost your husband. Why did you speak? Why did you have to listen to Bishop Deorlaf? You should have kept it all to yourself. You fell to your knees, letting the target fall to the ground. You had nothing left. Were you alone? Not impossible. You must have had a bad dream, didn't you? Yes, that was the only explanation. You manage to get up, picking up your target to return to your tent. You put away your weapons and your target before lying down on your makeshift bed. Exhaustion overwhelmed you, you fell asleep. You didn't have any dreams. No nightmares. But there was nothing restful about this sleep. You didn't know how long you had slept, but you had to wake up to the feeling of someone shaking you and calling your name. You opened your eyes. Your gaze met Ivarr’s. You stood up, looking at your surprised husband. Ivarr had returned.

"Get ready, let's go," he said, standing up.

"Where?" you asked as you stood up, running your hands through your tangled hair. "

At Rhodri's tomb," Ivarr replied grimly.

#x reader #fanfiction #female reader #assassin's creed #ac valhalla #ac valhalla ivarr #ivarr the boneless #reader insert #ivarr x reader #ubba ragnarsson #ubbe ragnarsson #halfdan ragnarsson

[buckybarnesss]

on fire: a teen wolf novel chapters 4-6 chapters 1-3 here

cox communications doesn't respect 3rd shift workers so last night i had to go into my brick and mortar office. i was able to get a lot of reading done but due to rules and regulations i was unable to write down my thoughts as i went. instead i used those little sticky note tabs to mark passages of interest so that's why this post took a little bit longer as i had to review what i had marked.

anyway.

our national nightmare continues.

ngl this book is weird. it's bizarro season 1.

it's non-canon compliant post-episode 5 the tell. i genuinely do not understand why they just didn't tap nancy holder to write a novelization of season 1.

warning: kate argent's existence and general grossness.

so buckle up buttercups here's a preview of what's to come:

we start this chapter from kate's point of view and it makes me feel dirty already. cast it into the fire, isildur. she’s just vile. just look at these nauseating quotes that she has all within the first page: 

“nothing beat the feel of cold, hard steel -- unless it was the rippling muscles of a well-built man.”

this bitch.

”god, all those muscles. the last time she’d seen him, he’d still been in high school. still a kid. a stupid, gullible kid, who should have died in the hale house fire along with the rest of his family.”

tell me again how the intention wasn't for derek to have been a minor when kate was grooming him? tell me fucking again.

“maybe she should’ve taken advantage of derek while he’d been down on the floor, writhing from the nine hundred thousand volts she’d sent skittering though his kick-ass body. for old time’s sake.”

chris and victoria are there too, being way more normal about things. they brought egg salad and cold cuts which feels like it’s hitting the beat where victoria comes in with cookies in the show. 

despite having grounded allison for her skipping school with scott on her birthday they are perfectly fine with her having not only a study date with lydia but allowing her to sleep over. it’s apparently to cover the arrival of a shipment of weapons. kate isn’t impressed that they’re still hiding everything from allison and disappointed there isn’t some super-special weapon in the shipment. 

this entire time she’s being weird and kind of sexual about an uzi. like, fuck off kate. 

now we’re back to scott and allison at the seedy motel plot where they are trying to locate jackson. “scott’s first instinct was to throw his arms around allison and duck, but she yanked the door open and barreled inside the motel like a superhero.”  uou are goddamn right, scott. that is ally a. 

the motel is basically an off the books brothel. one of the patrons supposedly saw something in one of the windows when he went open it for a smoke but saw something that scared him causing a heart attack. allison and scott ask a few people if they’ve seen jackson then have to book it when sheriff stilinski shows up.  these two idiots duck down in her car. i think we see stiles and scott do this a few times in the show.

lydia calls allison freaked out that she hadn’t called her back yet and harkens back to the tell by saying “a....window?” when they tell her about the man having a heart attack and scott describes her as sounding odd. i appreciate that lydia's trauma isn't being ignored because that just happened to her in the tell.

all this use of the generic where’s my phone app and using conference calls to sneak around feels like an adaptation of the plot beat in wolf’s bane.

the sterek agenda continues. derek and stiles spend a significant portion of the coming chapters together much like they do in the back half of season 1. it starts with the possible origin of the derek being in stiles’s room trope. stiles muses over the text he’d received from scott about the incident at the motel and as if being summoned derek is just suddenly there in his room. look at this bullshit:

he texted back, muttering, “so, scott, saw what? saw derek?” “yes?” derek said from behind him. “yeaoww!” stiles shouted. he turned around to find derek leaning against the wall. he did that on an irritatingly frequent basis, both at scott’s house and casa stilinski. he was wearing his black leather jacket and he looked especially pouty and broody. “could you not do that anymore? it is so not cool.”

irritatingly frequent basis? how many times has derek randomly appeared in your room stiles? and i’m sorry “especially pouty and broody”? what a totally super casual observation that is.

it gets even better. derek questions what scott is doing and stiles deadass answers “doin’ stuff.” which naturally irritates derek and derek requests stiles tell scott he wants to meet him. they’re interrupted by the sheriff calling for stiles to which we get:

“gotta go get that.” Stiles pointedly shut down his desktop -- Derek actually growled -- and slid his phone into the pocket of his jeans. “don’t touch anything.”

derek why are you growling? weirdo.

stiles talks to his dad and probes for information about the motel guy and they discuss his homework. it's actually a pretty great conversation between the two and pretty much the only time it occurs in the book.

there’s a mention of stiles’s mother and the sheriff asks stiles if he’s taken his adderall that day. so again, clearly whatever notes holder received very much indicated stiles's ADHD.

back in stiles’s room we get derek pointedly having ignored stiles’s directive to not touch anything: “he zoomed back into his room to find derek clacking away on his computer keyboard.” and “hey,” he said. “keep your paws off.” derek gave him one of his trademark sour glares.” this just continues to confirm for me that holder received some kind of outline of character and plot beats. casa stilinski? sour glares? derek and stiles doing investigative work and going to a hospital? stiles having a low key bisexual crisis over derek? it’s all there. i mean bro look at this:

“look,” derek leaned toward him and the hairs on the back of stiles’s neck stood straight up.”

and the banter:

“but don’t do anything wolfy in my jeep,” he said, opening his door and peering into the hallway. the coast was clear. “like stick our head out the window to let your tongue hang out --” “shut up,” derek said. 

here's another werewolf moment i find rather intriguing. scott and allison have made it to the preserve by this point still hot on the trail of jackson who lydia had told them was somewhere in the preserve. scott has a moment where in his mind he hears the how of a wolf. it says “an echo inside an echo” and “one wolf calling to another. seeking the pack.” that's pretty cool and it's not something shows up in the show.

jackson has finally arrived. i miss this asshole. he's in the woods being pissy about meeting the private investigator that had left him a note and a picture of his supposed biological father.

jackson’s perspective on what happened in magic bullet is just [chef’s kiss]. he refers to derek as scott’s drug dealer.

“mccall’s creepy drug dealer had shown up at school. when jackson had stood up to him, he’d grabbed him by the neck, and, like, gouged him with his fingernails.”

in jackson’s narration something caught my eye. “things had been fine before the start of the school year. Then it was almost as if McCall had concocted some kind of scheme over the summer to ruin his life.” so not only is this book an AU of season 1, the time frame seems off. the show starts the first day after their winter break in january. wolf moon takes place during the episode. the book places this before wolf moon has occurred which comes up later in derek’s narration. 

 this is such a good line and is a window into jackson’s mentality: “everyone wanted something jackson had. it was usually money or popularity. the secret? they were exactly the same thing.”

allison and scott are still in the woods. they’ve been kissing for a while but then they run into a wolf. they are really so soppy in this book and it's both accurate and annoying. allison is awed and scott is quietly panicking. allison goes on about how she thought it was beautiful and scott’s mind wonders if he’ll ever turn into a wolf like how Laura did. which, lol, no baby because you never make peace fully with being a werewolf. 

annnnd we’re back to the stiles and derek plot line. they’re playing dress up. i kid you not. these two are pulling a dean and sam. 

“my new best friend and i are at the hospital.” stiles said, twirling the listening end of a stethoscope in a little circle. so far he’d been unable to hypnotize derek with it.

there’s another small dig about derek not being a real person in stiles’s narration. this book hates derek, okay but i have a lo more on that later. for now these two idiots infiltrated the hospital by pulling the old stand by of Looking Important. stiles has a conversation with scott which is invoking wolf’s bane so hard:

“and you’ll never guess what. you can get past hospital security if you steal a white coat out of the storage room and parade around with it and a clipboard.” derek grunted. he was the one holding the clipboard, but he had passed on wearing a lab coat.”

stiles continues his observations of derek like the freak4freak he is:

“stiles covered the phone, “he can’t talk about wolfie matters,” he reported back to derek.  “because he’s with her,” derek said, looking even more dour than usual. stiles had never realized there were so many degrees of the brood until derek hale came into their lives.”

there’s a bit of back and forth regarding scott reporting that he and allison saw an actual wolf. derek’s disbelieving and cranky to which stiles ponders this totally normal thought:

“maybe if he gave derek a sugar cube -- or threw him a piece of raw meat -- derek might cheer up. stiles would have to try that someday. but today wasn’t looking good for that.”

derek then snatches stiles’s phone to question scott’s whereabouts. he is still cranky. meanwhile stiles is reading derek’s body language and it’s way too detailed for a normal person. like, stiles no one cares derek’s hand is in his jacket pocket while he grumps at scott and emphasizes “like always”. stiles how hard have you been watching derek? he may have complained about derek showing up in his room unnaounced but he's like

before we get into derek’s narration which ooh boy guys you aren’t ready. stiles and derek have their classic bickering-bantering some more. 

derek’s insisting stiles take him to the preserve so he can scent scott out. stiles is appalled and is like “oh my god derek you weirdo there’s an app for that.” and gets a little red riding hood dig in.

derek refuses to admit stiles has a point but orders stiles to give him his phone. stiles all but says Fuck You No and derek brings out his oldie but goodie:

“tell me or i’ll rip your throat out.” 

stiles probably thinks “don’t threaten me with a good time” but instead he says that he knows derek’s not telling him everything and insists he’s going with derek to find scott. 

it ends on this exchange:

“all right,” he said, “but we’ll take your jeep.” stiles huffed. “why can’t we ever take your car?” 

alas the camero. we barely knew her.

now we switch to derek’s point of view to narrate and so begins a piece of characterization that i don’t like, isn’t actually accurate to the character at any point in the series and frankly chaps my ass. i’m just going to give you all the paragraph as a whole.

“hey, you have to take me with you.,” scott’s annoying little sidekick insisted as derek stalked out of the hospital. derek took a tiny bit of satisfaction in the way the human had to trot along to stay abreast. he was sick to death of taking the weakness of humans into account while formulating his plans. de respected power, and few humans had any.”

besties, this book may very well be the origin of Derek Thinks Humans Are Weak trope. now, i’m sure some of you are like heather aren’t you perhaps being a tad dramatic? 

no. no i’m not. at first i considered this might be because of derek’s experience with kate. it would make sense that perhaps based off the information holder had that derek might be wary but than this fucker drops this line:

“werewolves didn’t share information with humans, ever.”

but he follows this thought with this:

“except for him, derek hale. he had shared information with a human. he hadn’t meant to. and the results had been disastrous.”

i will definitely get into more detail about this attitude he has because it really comes out in some later chapters because ooooh boy y’all ain’t prepared for the nonsense ahead. in actual canon derek never behaves this way or express this kind of opinion about humans. it stands out starkly in contrast to the episode this moment is paralleling in wolf’s bane. derek thinks stiles is annoying but not because he’s human. 

we end this chapter on jackson’s point of view. de had met with the so-called private investigator and they tit-for-tatted and jackson bolted when he sensed danger in the woods. now he’s lost in the woods. he’s scared, doesn’t want to admit it and sends a text to lydia.

it's here in these chapters where i realized that the character of deaton is missing entirely. since all of season 1's plot past the tell is omitted deaton's significance went with it.

also the mystery of the alpha is present but she's unable to really do anything with it so peter's presence is still regulated to comatose burn victim.

#my blog #thoughts on teen wolf #teen wolf #on fire: a teen wolf novel #sterek #or the teen wolf AU #heather reads #kate argent is her own trigger warning

[scrabble-scribbles]

Kinktober Day 4

goddamn i know its supposed to be smut but i need to chill before i die. this is fluff with smut alluded to send me 50 bucks and i will do the actual smut part

Prompt: love bites/marks

Pairing: Nancy Wheeler x Robin Buckley

Fandom: Stranger Things

Robin’s eyes cracked open, the dim light creeping in from the windows enough to illuminate the bedroom. She blinked a few times, clearing the fuzziness from her eyes, looking around the room. 

It wasn’t her room, the walls too pink and the entire thing too clean, but she recognized the Tom Cruise poster on the wall, the small music box left open to show the little ballerina inside.

Something moved next to her, and an arm was thrown over her waist. Said arm was attached to one Nancy Wheeler, who was still asleep, facedown on her bed. Robin smiled at her, eyes tracing the curve of her spine, up to her shoulders and face. Years of not being allowed to look, to want, of her interest in other girls being deemed other and wrong, the taboo of it all still coiled tight somewhere in the back of Robin’s mind, but right now, watching Nancy sleep in the dim morning light, her skin peppered with small bruises from the night before, it made all those years of hiding vanish.

Nancy looked adorable when she was sleeping, the one arm slung over Robin’s waist curling around her, pulling her closer to her own body. Robin carded her fingers through her mess of curls, kissing her forehead softly. 

The shorter girl grumbled in her sleep, squirming in the tangled covers until she was tucked right next to Robin’s side, nose pressed to her shoulder. 

She could tell from the slight shift in Nancy’s breathing that she was waking up, and Robin kept playing with her hair until she blinked awake, eyes still half-shut as she looked up at Robin.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Robin teased, kissing her. Nancy’s nose scrunched up adorably before she hid her face in Robin’s shoulder. 

“Too early to be up,” she mumbled, wrapping a leg around Robin’s. 

Robin chuckled, twisting on the bed to let Nancy curl up on top of her. “It’s almost ten, Nance. We slept over ten hours.”

Nancy’s fingers traced small patterns on her stomach, enough to make her skin prickle, going over the marks on Robin’s own body from the previous night.

It was moments like this that made all of the shame, the fear she had felt through her life vanish, the worry that someone might see them, or out them, swept away by Nancy’s gentle touches, the way her hair frizzed up from sleeping, the gentle glow of her skin in the light peeking through the shutters. Robin’s heart melted at the sight, and she sighed into Nancy’s head, wrapping her own arms around her girl. 

“I love you,” she murmured, inhaling the smell of Nancy’s shampoo. “So much, Nancy, I love you.”

Nancy’s face tilted up, and she leaned in to kiss Robin’s lips, gently. 

“I love you too,” she said, rolling onto her back and stretching. Robin smirked when she saw the dark bruises mottling her neck and chest, and Nancy saw her grin. “What?”

“You might want to wear a turtleneck today, nance,” she said, and Nancy’s eyes shot wide open. She scrambled out of bed, running to the mirror, and shrieked when she saw her skin.

“Robin!” She yelped, whipping around to glare at her girlfriend. “How am I supposed to hide these?”

“I don’t know,” Robin said, rolling out of bed to join Nancy by the mirror. Nancy was still poking at the marks when she wrapped her arms around the shorter girl’s waist, kissed the spot behind her ear that she knew would make Nancy melt.

And she did, leaning her weight back against Robin.

“But I like you having those marks,” she whispered, low and husky. “It’ll make sure you remember you’re mine.”

She felt Nancy’s heart rate pick up, and Robin smiled against her neck, kissing gently up and down the smooth skin, until Nancy was dragging her back to the bed.

“I’m going to make sure you don’t forget you’re mine, Buckley,” she said, and Robin grinned.

#kinktober 2022 #minors dni #smut #ronance #stranger things #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #robin x nancy

[doneyousowrong]

chapter two.

tw: harassment, bullying, shaming, alcohol consumption, mentions of food

wc: 1.4k

p.o.v: lia

After our disastrous first day, weeks went by surprisingly quick. It’s been almost two months since our little misunderstanding in the cafeteria, and after that, we did manage ourselves pretty well. Mark got closer to us and we also met Kaia, a journalism student who was just the coolest person I’ve ever met. But now, I found myself in my shared apartment with Olivia, arguing over wether I am or not going to some frat party.

— I mean it Ollie, I’d much rather stay at home and just chill, I wouldn’t feel comfortable — I pleaded, already tired of bickering.

— Lia, it’s been a month and you still haven’t gone to any parties! It will be fun, I swear! And I’ll be there. Please! For me… — She argued, basically winning me over.

— Ugh, fine. I’ll go get ready — I gave in.

— Yay! Thank you, thank you, thank you! — She jumped and hugged me.

After about an hour of getting my makeup done and picking an outfit, I made my way to the living room to meet Olivia.

— Oh, he’ll no — She said.

— What? — I asked, confused.

— Your clothes! You can’t wear that to a party. — She mocked, pointing at my outfit.

— What’s wrong with it? — I stared down at my hoodie and jeans.

— Are you serious? You’re covering your entire body!

— I don’t own anything sluttier than this — I replied with a defeated look.

— Well I do, we’re fixing this. Now. — She grabbed my arm and led me to her room.

She opened her closet and stood there silent for a minute, then handed me some pieces of clothing. A leather pleated skirt, that barely covered my upper thighs, and a very revealing top, showing a lot of cleavage. I looked at her with puppy eyes, begging for mercy, and she just motioned for me to get in the bathroom and change.

— I’m so cold — I said, getting out of the bathroom, hugging myself in an attempt to get some warmth.

— The alcohol will fix that for you. You look great! — She clapped excitedly — Come on, I can’t stand another minute in here — She pulled me by the arm, leading us to the front door.

When we got there, it was like a zoo. Just a bunch of horny drunk teenagers, screaming and dancing. I looked terrified, Olivia on the other hand, looked like she had entered heaven.

— You came! — I saw a happy looking Mark coming towards us.

— Unfortunately. — I answered, gaining a slap on the arm from Ollie.

— C’mon, let’s get you a drink, it’ll cheer you up! — Mark pulled me towards the kitchen and Olivia went to talk to some guys.

There were a few people in the kitchen fixing themselves up some drinks, but my eyes landed on one specific person. Jake was leaning against the counter, sipping a cup of whatever poison his friends had mixed with juice, his golden brown hair slicked back, and his dark clothes perfectly hugging his body. I could hate him and his smug ass, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find him absurdly attractive.

He locked eyes with me once I entered the room, and I could swear his gaze lingered a little longer than it should. Weirdly, he was alone, no girlfriend to be found anywhere near. Mark grabbed a cup and fixed me a drink, and we started chatting.

— You look really pretty, Lia — He said, flashing me a shy smile.

Jake looked over at me, his eyes almost dark, piercing through my soul.

— Thanks, Mark, you look really good too. — I looked down, heat rising up my cheeks.

We talked for a while, until mark was dragged out of the kitchen by some of his friends, apologizing. I shrugged it off, laughing, already a bit tipsy.

I had this feeling I was being watched the whole time, until I realized a guy’s look on me. I recognized him, he was one of the tutors in our college, and the way he was staring at me was making me sick. If I was already uncomfortable, it only got worst when I saw him approaching me, with a scary smirk on his lips.

— Hey… — He approached me, slipping a hand behind me and resting it on my lower back.

I froze. If I hadn’t held back, I’m sure tears would’ve fallen down my eyes at this point.

— Sorry… I-I really have somewhere to be, my friends looking for me… — I tried escaping from his grip, but he followed me, now grabbing my waist.

— You look very pretty, doll, why don’t we just go somewhere quieter, I’m sure your friend wouldn’t mind… — He started rubbing his hands up and down my sides.

My eyes were already turning glossy, I couldn’t feel my feet, terrified.

— Can’t you realize when a girl’s not into you? Or are just that fucking clueless? — A male voice echoed behind me, making me turn around and see Jake.

— This is none of your business, you little shit. We’re having a private conversation — The man answered, taking a step forward.

Jake grabbed my arm and pulled me to his side, tears freely rolling down my eyes.

— She said she didn’t want anything with you, why don’t you just let it go before I beat the shit out of you in front of everyone? — He stepped forward as well.

— Fuck you. — The guy replied, bumping on his shoulder on his way out.

We were alone in the kitchen, I was cornered on the wall, hugging my arms, trying to hold back my whimpers.

— Are you stupid? — Jake approached me, visibly angry. — Don’t you know better than to let fucking Paul flirt with you?

— W-What?… I don’t even know who he is, and i didn’t flirt, he just grabbed me! — I sobbed

— He’s literally the biggest perv in school! He’s like, thirty, and only goes after young girls like you. Why are you so fucking naïve? — He scolded me like an angry father

— Why are you so fucking rude?! I didn’t do anything wrong, quite the opposite! Why do you even care? Aren’t I just some mindless fuck to you? Get the fuck away from me — I yelled, pushing his chest and storming out of the kitchen, wiping my tears.

— Lia? What happened?! — I heard Olivia asking while running towards me.

She followed me into the bathroom and I explained everything to her. We were sitting on the floor, while she wiped my tears away, consoling me. Suddenly I see someone entering the bathroom, and there was Jake again, like a fucking haunting.

— Get out. — He demanded, looking at Ollie.

She was speechless, looking at him, baffled.

— What? — She asked.

— Get out, let me talk to her. — He repeated.

She gave me a concerned look and I just nodded asserting that it was okay. She got up and left, looking him dead in the eyes with a killer gaze. He closed the door and sat down next to me.

— Why do you accept being treated like that? You completely froze off when he approached you. You can’t just take people’s shit all the time. — He said looking at me.

— Yeah, you would know that really well… — I answered looking down, fidgeting my fingers.

— You really are a brat, you know that? — He said, scoffing. — You can’t accept that people are trying to help you? — He stood up, ready to leave.

— Oh, this is your idea of helping? — I stood up also, raising my voice. — Putting the blame on me?!

— If you weren’t so fucking oblivious, it wouldn’t be your fault — He yelled back.

— Fuck you, Jake. — I stormed out of the bathroom crying.

I had to get out of there as quickly as possible, my feet were doing the work they hadn’t done in years. Ollie would probably realize that I went home after a while. All I wanted was to lay in bed and cry myself to sleep.

After a few hours of whimpering under the covers, I heard a knock on my door.

— Lia? Sweetie? Are you okay? Of course not… — She answered her own question — Well, if you need anything, I’ll be in my room. I brought you some water as well…

I wanted to thank her, but I couldn’t get myself to move or speak. I hated the effect something so little could have on me.

[frogtanii]

℗ me and my husband

atsumu x fem!reader (poker face ending)

series masterlist

♡´･ᴗ･`♡

wc. 3.2k (holy shit)

warnings. NOT PROOFREAD, v v soft domestic, marriage :00, smut!! (is marked off!!), soft dom!tsumu, hair pulling (giving), unprotected sex, slight praise kink, pretty vanilla ngl

an. can be read as a one shot but u might be confused lmfao also this took SO LONG OMFG also also heavily unedited, take things w a grain of salt lmfao anyways don’t forget to feed me ahaha m rlly proud of this so i hope y’all like it <33

it was moving day and atsumu was about to lose his mind.

today was the official day of the hyper house disbandment and while most of the members were still figuring out new living arrangements and thus remaining past the deadline, you were one of the few trying to get out as soon as possible.

makki and mattsun were so excited to have you move in, they showed up early that morning to help you pack. now, it was around 1p and it was almost time for you to go. you still had a few more boxes to go but things were speeding right along.

normally, atsumu would be right by your best friends helping you out but he was currently in the middle of a breakdown.

you were leaving. leaving. he had no idea when he’d see you again (even though you promised to meet up weekly to catch up), if he would ever see you again. for all he knew, makki and mattsun would just hide you away forever, never to be seen again.

okay, so he was panicking.

it was just... atsumu was in love with you. he’d known for a while (way longer than he’d like to admit) and he selfishly thought he’d have more time with you so that he could work up the courage to confess. but now? you were like three boxes away from a distance that he didn’t know if he or your relationship could recover from.

it wasn’t that he was bad at long distance but the tragic events that the house brought, brought the two of you closer together and he didn’t want to lose that.

atsumu let out a groan and dropped his head against the wall, his mind running with scenario after scenario, all ending in failure and utter embarrassment.

“hey, you okay?” you called out, a large box cradled delicately in your arms. as atsumu turned from the plaster in front of him, he allowed himself a moment to take you in.

you were wearing short athletic shorts, worn converses, and his t shirt. a thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, the lights above reflecting off of it, giving you a warm glow.

of course you looked hot moving boxes.

you called his name again in concern and he immediately felt his heart clench in guilt. you’d already been through so so much and here he was fantasizing about you instead of being there for you like a good friend would.

atsumu let out a sigh and shot you a wide, albeit empty, smile before walking over to you and taking the box out of your hands. the furrow in your brows told him you saw through his expression but he ignored it and made a show of lifting your box above his head and carrying it to mattsun’s car.

“see, what would ya do without these guns angel?” he joked, placing the cardboard into the trunk. you rolled your eyes and poked him in the side playfully. “die, probably.”

the butterflies in his stomach kicked up at the underlying sincerity in your voice but he tried his best to overlook it. it was much harder than it seemed, especially when you looked at him with such fondness in your gaze that made him want to kiss you senseless.

gulping hard, he quickly turned away from you, busying himself with fitting your things in the truck like a game of tetris.

“atsumu.” your voice was firm but pleading and he didn’t dare look at you for fear of spilling everything right then and there. “wow, ya sure got a lot of stuff, huh? wonder how much of this was bought with ushijima’s money,” he started to ramble but thankfully he was interrupted by makki whooping as he walked out of the house.

“last box bitches!” you shot atsumu one final worried look before running over to makki and mattsun, yelling the whole way there.

atsumu was grateful your back was to him because he couldn’t hide the affectionate look that overtook his face, a soft smile spreading across his lips as he watched you hip bump your friends while cackling wildly.

god, he was so in love with you.

what was he going to do when you moved out and away? what if you found someone, someone how loved you as much as he did (not possible)? he would wish for your happiness even at the expense of his own but... what if you both could be happy?

caught up in his thoughts, atsumu didn’t register you saying your goodbyes to the remaining members until you were finally in front of him.

“i’m gonna miss living with you tsum.” you unceremoniously launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. his heart leapt violently at the contact and he prayed to every deity above that you didn’t hear it underneath your head.

he barely managed to hug you back before you pulled away, your eyes slightly teary and red. “um, well, makki and mattsun are waiting for me so uh,” you trailed off looking back at the van and your friends who were so (im)patiently waiting for you to join them.

atsumu’s breath quickened as you scooted a bit away from him, truly getting ready to leave. no, no, it couldn’t end like this, awkward and distant. no, he wasn’t going to let it.

“atsumu?” you asked worriedly, reaching out a hand to touch him when he didn’t respond but he couldn’t hear you. he felt hot all over, like he was going to explode or magically combust if he didn’t get the words out into the air.

“tsum, are you oka-“ “i’m in love with ya.”

you paused, shock written clearly all over your face. the fear of rejection slammed into atsumu like a brick, the feeling settling in the pit of his stomach like a rock but he still didn’t stop.

“i’m in love with ya and i have been for forever. yn, yer beautiful but yer face and body aren’t even the best part of ya, even though they’re pretty damn great. yer just-“

“tsum-“

“-yer so kind, especially when ya don’t need ta be. yer badass but ya care fer others so deeply and ya make me wanna be a better person. ya make me a better person. i know ya-“

“tsumu please-“

“-ya probably don’t feel the same and that’s alright but i needed ta tell ya, before ya leave and fall in love with some other scrub, just in case we can be happy together and-“

all of a sudden, your hands were buried in his shirt and you were pulling him close to meet your lips with his, your mouths meshing together in a soft and passionate kiss.

bliss. atsumu was in sheer bliss. your lips were as soft as he thought they would be as they moved with his, his hands coming up to grip your waist and pull you even closer to him.

sooner than he would have liked, his lungs started burning for air so he pulled back but not very far, instead resting his forehead against yours.

“i was trying to tell you i liked you too, idiot,” you muttered, your eyes still closed as you spoke. he chuckled, a wide grin overtaking his entire face as he really took in what you were saying.

you liked him back. you liked him. holy shit.

but instead of saying any of that, he decided to tease you a bit. “just like? if i recall, i just confessed my undying love for ya.”

you pulled back with a faux scoff, hitting him in the arm with a huff. “shut up you ass. of course i love you too.” you couldn’t keep your real smile off your cheeks while you confessed, your soft expression bringing another wave of desire over atsumu’s body.

“can, can i take ya inside angel?” he allowed his true intentions to be heard in his words, your eyes widening when you figured out what he meant. you nodded vigorously before shooting a look to makki and mattsun. mattsun just waved you off and got into his truck while makki yelled, “get that dick!”

you heated up horribly, grabbing atsumu’s hand and pulling him towards the house and to his room. he allowed himself to be dragged along, sending winks to the other boys as he went until the two of you were standing right in front of his door.

“i love ya,” he whispered, lifting your hand to his lips to place a gentle kiss there. you grinned. “love you too tsum.”

that must have been the final straw because the minute the words left your mouth, he was on you.

••• smut begin•••

pressing you up against the door, atsumu ravaged your mouth, his tongue tangling with yours as he walked you backwards into his room, laying you down on the bed so that he was hovering over you, his hips pressing hard against yours.

instinctively, you ground up into him, rewarding you with a loud groan and a gasp of your name. “fuck angel, yer killing me here,” he laughed breathlessly, rolling his hardness against your thigh. you let out a breathy moan and tangled your hands in his hair to bring him back down to your lips.

as you continued to kiss him, his hands scrambled at your waist, pushing his hands under it to grope at your chest. you giggled at the cold of his fingers but he didn’t pay it any mind, moving down from your mouth to your neck, sucking dark marks into the sensitive skin there.

“ah, shit tsumu,” you tilted your head to the side to give him more access, just as he reached under your bra to tease your nipples. a startled gasp left you, your back arching into his careful touch. “that feel good angel?” atsumu asked, voice low and gravelly as he pinched the delicate bud, drawing another noise from your throat.

you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. you bit your bottom lip while he pulled your shirt and bra off, tossing them somewhere in the room. as he scanned your half naked body, he noticed you quieting yourself and he lightly shook his head. his thumb found its way to your lip, carefully pulling it from between your teeth.

“wanna hear ya angel, let me hear yer pretty noises, yeah?” without letting you respond, atsumu dove back into your chest, suckling one of your nipples into his mouth while toying with the other, a sigh of his name sending a bolt of arousal straight to his loins.

he grinded against you absentmindedly, losing himself in you, eventually switching sides to give the same treatment to your neglected bud.

while atsumu seemed to be having the time of his life attached to your tit, you were getting impatient, your arousal completely soaking through your underwear. you needed more.

tangling your fingers in his blond locks, you attempted to tug him away from your chest but his reaction was unlike anything you could’ve expected. “aahh!” he let out a strangled whine, his hips bucking against your side.

“please, tsumu, need more,” you breathed, his needy reaction not lost on you as pulled his hair a bit harder. you were not disappointed as his eyes rolled back and his mouth opened in a silent moan before dropping his head to your shoulder.

“fuck, fuck, okay angel, i got ya, i got ya.” atsumu swiftly disposed of both yours and his bottoms and underwear before lifting your leg and positioning himself at your entrance.

“tell me if i hurt ya, alright? i love ya,” he smiled down on you, your heart swelling two times at his carefulness. “i love you too,” you replied, watching as his pupils grew and a low groan broke free from his chest.

“oh angel, ‘m gonna ruin ya.” that was the last thing he said before he pushed into you, both of you letting out whimpers as he stretched you open, the blunt head of his cock just a few centimeters shy of your cervix.

your back arched in pleasure, both of your hands scrambling until they found purchase on his back, your nails digging in just when he started to thrust shallowly into you.

“f-fuck, how’re ya s-so fuckin’ tight?” atsumu growled through gritted teeth, every word punctuated with a roll of his hips. you couldn’t respond as you were too overwhelmed with pleasure, his cock rubbing against your g-spot with every slow movement.

speaking of slow, he was moving way too leisurely for your tastes. you needed him to move faster and you knew exactly how to do it.

sliding your hand up from his back, you grabbed a good chunk of hair from the back of his head and pulled. his reaction was immediate and oh-so gratifying.

an honest to god whimper poured from his lips and he instantly thrusted all the way into you, his length driving into your g-spot perfectly. you both let out twin moans as he started rocking into consistently, every movement bringing you closer and closer to your peak.

“i love ya, i love ya so fuckin’ much, angel—shit—yer so amazing, i love ya,” atsumu rambled while pounding into you, deep curses and whines of your name interspersed with his declarations of love. if you could speak, you would reciprocate but you were too busy holding on for dear life as he fucked you into oblivion.

desperate for some kind of anchor to reality, you grasped onto his locks again, gripping tightly as drawn-out cries of his name slipped from your open lips. you were close, so close and he knew it too.

“feel ya clenchin’ around me like a good girl, ya gonna cum fer me? gonna cum fer me angel?” atsumu’s hand snaked down between your bodies to rub fast circles on your clit, a shaky sob finding its way out into the open air.

“oh shit, yeah, ‘m g-gonna cum for you tsum, ‘s all for you,” you moaned, clamping down on him sporadically as you started to cum, your vision whiting out and your thighs trembling while you gushed around him.

your mind was floating off when you felt him cum with a shout, his warmth flooding you and spilling out as he collapsed onto your chest.

••• smut over •••

the two of you lied there for a while, attempting to regain your brain and feeling in your legs. you vaguely made note of the wet rag cleaning between your thighs and the following weight falling down beside you but it was only after a few more minutes that you really came back to yourself, rolling over to lay on atsumu’s bare chest.

“holy shit, tsumu,” you said in awe, your boyfriend (!!) laughing at your reaction. “i’m just that good angel, what can i say?”

you groaned and hit him in the chest but you couldn’t keep the smile off your face if you tried. “you are such a menace!”

“only fittin’ that i picked a gremlin ta be with then,” atsumu teased while playing with a piece of your hair. mock offense filled your chest as you sat up, fixing him with your ‘angriest’ glare.

“is that the kind of language you’ll be using in your vows, mister?” you were only joking but when atsumu’s eyes widened and a blush spread across his cheeks, you realized your mistake.

you opened your mouth to apologize or to make some kind of excuse but he beat you to the punch. “ya wanna marry me angel?” he asked, looking so vulnerable with hope shining in his brown irises. you couldn’t bear to lie.

“of course tsum, you’re it for me,” you reached out a hand to caress his cheek and he leaned into it, his own coming up to cup yours and hold it against his face.

“good.” and that was the end of that, that evening’s... extraneous activities having thoroughly tired to the point that you fell completely asleep with your face against one of his pecs.

if you had stayed awake a little longer, you would’ve seen atsumu pull out his phone and start a new note titled, “my angel.”

if i just said i loved you, it would be an understatement. it would be like saying the sun’s surface is just a bit warm or that the arctic is just a little chilly. it would be an injustice to you and to how i truly feel about you. love—

“-is a word that is much too soft and used far too often ta ever describe the fierce, infinite and blazing passion that i have in my heart for ya angel. ya acknowledge my strengths and ya accept my faults. ya make me wanna be a better person every day. so, today i vow ta laugh with ya and comfort ya during times of joy and times of sorrow. i promise ta always pursue ya, ta fight for ya, and love ya unconditionally and wholeheartedly for the rest of my life. ya are my best friend and i’m the luckiest person on earth ta call ya mine- wait are ya crying?"

the audience burst into laughter as you frantically tried to wipe away your tears, punching atsumu softly on the arm. “of course i am, you ass.”

the officiant cleared his throat, grabbing both of your attentions. “it is the bride’s turn to give her vows. if you may?”

you nodded and atsumu already felt like crying. again. he’d cried that morning while getting dressed and then again when you walked down the aisle in the most beautiful dress he had ever seen. now, as he watched you pull a folded piece of paper out of your bra, he knew he’d made the right decision in confessing to you, all those years ago.

he also knew he was definitely going to cry again.

“atsumu, falling for you wasn’t falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing that you’re home. today, i want to make you promises that i will always keep. i promise to never stop holding your hand or accepting your kisses. i promise to not hit you too hard when you insult me or call me a gremlin. i promise to share my food with you, to never go to bed angry, and to try and understand your obsession with professional men’s volleyball. i promise to love, respect, protect and trust you, and give you the best of myself, for i know that together we will build a life far better than either of us could imagine alone. i choose you. i’ll choose you over and over and over, without pause, without doubt, i’ll keep choosing you.

i used to never truly enjoy moments because i was always waiting for what's next. the next thing horrible thing to happen. now that i have you, i enjoy the moment. every moment.

today seems like it's the start of a new journey, but i already belong to you. falling for you wasn't falling at all—it was walking into a house and knowing you're home. i love you.”

and at least in this lifetime

we’re sticking together

me and my husband

we’re sticking together

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saiKishaircLip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp • @keiarma • @shrimpypenis

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

#haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq smau #haikyuu x reader smau #haikyuu smau #haikyuu #hq x reader smau #haikyuu angst #hq angst #haikyuu fluff #hq fluff #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #atsumu x female reader #atsumu x y/n #atsumu miya x reader #atsumu miya x female reader #atsumu miya x y/n #atsumu miya x you #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu smut #atsumu miya smut #atsumu fluff #atsumu miya fluff #hq atsumu #haikyuu atsumu #atsumu angst #℗ poker face

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

i wonder (if you remember the way we looked at each other)

— Living as roommates with your best friend is easy until someone fucks up and catches feelings.

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, smut fem!reader, and they were roommates, childhood friends!au, university!au, quirkless!au, modern!au, americanized university experience, alcohol consumption, drug consumption, the plot is for the sex AHA, womanizer!shouto, shouto and reader are bad roommates but seiji is worse, shouto has sex at 16 for the first time, vouyerism-ish, iffy shouto tendencies, jealous!shouto, jealous!reader, drunk sex so dubcon depending on you, nipplegasms, reader has nipple piercings, blowjob, switching, marking, biting, scratching, praise kink, missing tag ;)

word count: 20,141

a/n: this is for the roommates bnharem collab! please check out all the other amazing fics and art! note to self, dont get drunk the night before this is due and I hope you guys enjoy this!!! I had a lot of fun writing it!!! also,,, sorry if mobile doesn’t correctly format!

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You cracked your eyes open.

The gentle white stream of light permeated through soft cotton curtains, lighting the room in pale stripes and careful touches. Dust particles danced within the shining light, bending and twirling with the flowing air and moving winds. You breathed in deeply, your body still tired, your head still foggy from a night of distractions and too many drinks. 

Your eyes are closed once again, your still hazy mind trying to ignore the bitter, rank taste of the alcohol and cum on your tongue and your hands scratching as your naked cleavage. There was still enough time in the day; it was Sunday after—

Wait.

CUM?!

Your eyes flew open, your lips smacking each other as you confirm the awful, salty taste of cum on your tongue. Your hands swiping up and down your front to confirm your state of undress. Your heart starts hammering in your chest, your palms immediately sweating as you try to think about just who the fuck you ended up back in bed with.

Think, y/n, think!

A small grunt came from behind you, and you felt your entire body go rigid immediately. The soft expel of air fanning against your sticky neck is both welcomed and untrusted. With what can only be described as you, as stiff as a stick, peering behind your shoulder similar to a mother who definitely heard her child throw up on her bed but is somehow praying that she was hearing shit, you turned around.

A messy bedhead of red and white greeted you: unfocused, sleepy grey, and brilliant blue eyes staring back at you with fond familiarity and welcome.

“‘Morning, y/n,” Todoroki Shouto grumbles, voice husky, scratchy, deeply warm from his slumber. His next words are damning, though, the slight pride and knowing implications in the small breathe he uttered next. “Had fun last night?”

There was silence, a stroke of hesitancy, then crushing all-consuming fear.

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

O N E  W E E K  A N D  A  D A Y  E A R L I E R

“Who the fuck touched my fucking Angry Orchard Rosés?!” a voice snapped from the kitchen; the tone was fed up, seconds from blasting to smithereens.

You were in the living room, a pair of sweats on, your hair not put together, your face still bare. The music you played as part of your pregame ritual was practically vibrating the wooden floor as you sang along to your music. The telling glass bottle of deliciously pink alcohol swinging inconspicuously between your fingers as you drank it between verses. Despite your other roommate (who you repeatedly told your friends to be ‘like Bakugou but a gazillion times worse because you don’t and can’t like him,’) being seconds from trying to start another feud or possibly a lawsuit against you, your mouth dropped in mock shock before guzzling down the rest of the drink.

“I saw that you fucking skank!” Shishikura Seiji screeched from the kitchen; his stomps were long and heavy as he made his way from the kitchen to the living room where you were. “There were two bottles left in there! Don’t tell me your alcoholic ass drank them both! So help me, I’ll press on your damn chest until you’re puking out my drink.”

“Shishikura, stop,” Shouto spoke up, his own arm raising as he took a long, slow drink from the other missing rosé bottle. “These are 2% alcohol, you’ve had them in the fridge for months now, and you never drink them anyways.”

You grinned as you pulled the glass bottle from your lip, your face failing at the fake look of surprise, guilt, and sorrow for your unwanted and unneeded roommate.

“Sorry, they’re such girly drinks. I figured I’d take them off your hands,” you speak with distractingly bright amusement. “Alcoholics like me, we don’t care. Watch out; I might go for your mouth wash if you’re not too careful.”

“You do that, and I’ll poison you like a damn bitch,” Shishikura threatened, his voice in a menacing growl.

“Ooooo, you want me to bark for you, Shishikura? Want me on my hands and knees?” you taunt back, walking backward until you’re collapsing onto the couch besides Shouto. Your arm quickly sneaks between his, and you lay your head on his shoulder. Shishikura’s face is flushed red, his pupils beady as he trembles with concealed rage.

“She’s quite good at it,” Shouto chimes in, the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smirk as he takes another drink of the weak liquor. He shifts on the couch, allowing you to curl more comfortably at his side; the both of you know just how much your incredibly prude roommate hates any sort of PDA. “Want to hear her bark? She’s also quite good with her tongue.”

As if to emphasize Shouto’s point, you stuck out your tongue, refusing to break eye contact with Shishikura as the tip of your tongue breached the opening of the bottle.

“The actual fuck is wrong with the both of you?!” Shishikura spluttered, his face somehow turning purple and green and red. A truly incredible sight to be had. “‘Childhood friends are great roommates to have’ my fucking ass, you both are monstrosities!”

Shishikura stormed out of the living room, his ears neon red as his purple hair fell to cover his face. As soon as he was out of sight, you turned to Shouto, your tongue removing itself from the bottle and back into your mouth as you began to laugh loudly.

Childhood friends to roommates, ah, what a remarkable story you had with Todoroki Shouto.

It was accurate to relay that you had known Shouto for more than seventeen years now at your current age of twenty-one. Seventeen years of being what is easily seen as the best of friends, the closest companions, and indeed a bond that would withstand time and situation. 

The two of you met during the first week of what was preschool. Although both of you could not remember a single instance of events during this time, your mothers had always been excited to relay this story to you for many years that you could remember. It was odd to try to remember it, but even as they painted a picture of your first interaction, you could do nothing but admit that it sounded exactly like how it could have gone. 

You couldn’t remember being four years old; you don’t recall what it was like to strain your neck to look up at your parents or how it felt to be so utterly dependent but to scream brazenly about your childish independence. Your mother smiles when she retells the story of your first interaction, of how you were holding her hand as she walked you to the building where your preschool was to be had. 

Your hand was so small in hers. Tightly clutching onto her fingers as you looked around at the other children who were also arriving or had already arrived. Some children were bawling by their parents, others aimlessly playing with toys, and some were attempting to talk to one another, but by the apparent looks of curiosity surrounding the babbling and rambling tangents that could only be understood by a firing toddler brain, everyone was getting along. 

A teacher greeted you kindly, squatting down to reach your eye level as they excitedly introduced themselves and asked for your name. You, of course, with your hands clutching the skirts of your mother’s dress, responded with hesitant confidence.

“You’re such a brave girl!” the teacher awed happily, stretching out a hand for you. “Is it okay if I take you from your mom and show you which cubby is yours?”

There was a moment of confusion, then clear understanding hovering over your little head. Your mom looked down with an encouraging smile and pushed you forward.

“Do I get a middle cubby? I don’t want a top one,” you admit, your hand stretching out to grab the teacher’s stretched-out hand. 

Your mother watched on happily as you removed your schoolbag and lunchpail and placed them neatly within the somehow middle cubby marked with your name. The teacher also helped you put on your white school slippers before gesturing towards the bright, colorful room, their mouth moving as if explaining every little detail before pointing at the corner. Your mother tilted her head, curious as she followed the teachers point to the corner of the room where a boy with exceptional red and white hair — split perfectly in the middle — sat quietly, with fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

(Shouto, although he can not remember this day himself, will argue with you and only you that he was, in fact, NOT crying.)

Trying to not allow the shock of the unnatural hair color affect her, your mother watched as you nodded to your new teacher and walked over with clenched fist confidence to the small boy.

She watched as you approached him, your jaw moving as you so obviously spoke, hopefully introducing yourself. The boy looked up at you with bright, wet eyes but seemed to speak right back to you. 

“Alright, parents! Thank you all for dropping off your children! Do not worry. We will take great care of them all, and they are in competent hands! First days are hard for everyone, so if you can exit quietly, I, and the rest of us teachers, would appreciate that greatly!”

Or at least that’s what Rei claimed the teacher said.  However, your mother was watching on with increasing exponential horror as she watched you throw a punch at the air before twisting around and pointing right at her and saying with a voice that was much too loud.

“Punch whoever made you cry, Shouto-chan! My mama says that it is okay to punch bullies!”

Thankfully no one but your mother heard you, and even though she scolded you on the way out, whisper yelling that you “better not punch anyone!” her relief was for naught.

When she would return in the afternoon, a bit late because there had been a hold up on the train, you were pouting sitting on the floor with a scuffled uniform, your arms crossed definitely. Next to you was the boy with red and white hair, equally scuffed next to a white-haired woman and an older white-haired boy.

“Oh my god, what happened?!” she shrieked, racing over to you.

“Y/l/n-san,” the teacher spoke with a tone that indicated disappointment with the subtle undertone of amusement. “Y/n-chan has something to tell you.”

Your mother had taught you many things, she will admit, in your very short life. But sass and annoyment was something not often seen in your household or in you, and to see it so blatantly on your chubby-cheeked face was quickly giving your mother greys.

“Shouto-chan told me that his stupid bully brother Touya was being a meanie, and so I helped him punch him back!” you said with tears in your eyes because you didn’t want to back down from your actions, but you also did not like being scolded. “I don’t regret it!”

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

“I don’t either,” Shouto-chan grumbled as your mother collapsed to her knees and began to profusely apologize for you to the woman who was undoubtedly Shouto’s mother. “Touya-nii was making fun of my hair again… y/n-chan helped me, though. Please don’t scold her!”

To say the most in the shortest amount of time, you were, in fact, scolded despite Shouto’s begging. Touya stopped making fun of Shouto’s natural hair. Rei accepted your mother’s apology. The teachers were given two bottles of sake.

And, of course, the most important, the most paramount thing to arise from this first day of school was that your and Todoroki Shouto’s friendship was now bound by blood, sweat, and tears.

Preschool became elementary school, which became middle school, and fading into highschool.

It was without saying that your relationship, your friendship with Todoroki Shouto, was probably one of the biggest, most defining parts of your entire life. He was there when your first tooth fell out, when he dropped ice cubes down people’s shirts, you two had bathed together when you were young, had sleepovers well past the age where him being a boy and you being a girl should have made things weird. You laughed when his voice cracked and dropped, he elbowed your chest plenty when you began growing boobs, you taunted his lack of body hair, he bought you your favorite ice cream and heating packs on your first period. You attended cram school together, went to the park and beaches on days off from school. You were partners in every school activity except under specific circumstances. He had listened to you when you told him excitedly about your first kiss when you turned fourteen, and you laughed when he said at the age of fifteen that he had still yet to kiss anyone.

Everyone always claimed, always asked, wondered, and whispered if the two of you were dating. Childhood friends still this close and not dating? Unheard of; practically illegal! Nevertheless, you ignored the disappointed frowns or the hopeful grins as you and Shouto both denied any sort of romantic connection.

Soon the both of you were in high school, and Shouto was mere days from turning sixteen. Much like when the both of you were when you were four years old, you seemed to be the one spouting many words — sometimes unnecessary words that wound you both up in trouble — of wisdom. You were loud when you needed, talking most of the time only to him and your surprisingly large group of friends. (You weren’t that surprised. Everyone wanted to be friends with the handsome, could easily be royalty or a model, Todoroki Shouto.) Shouto remained, for better or worse, quiet, reserved, and a bit awkward. He was a sweet boy, don’t get it wrong, and you would protect him until the end of your days, but the boy was a complete airhead and relied on you for interpreting social interactions.

“Camie-senpai wants me to go over to her house after my birthday,” Shouto explains, his hands exchanging his school shoes for his outdoor ones. “Something about wanting to do that one second-year first-year student project thing for the third years right away.”

“You have Camie?” you ask, slumping against the metal lockers with a slight thud. “Lucky, she’s so nice… I have stupid Agoyamato. Have you had a conversation with him? It’s actually the worst! He thinks he’s all that!”

“I’m sure it’ll be okay; you’re nice enough that he won’t be like… that,” Shouto smiles, slinging his bag on his shoulders before nudging his head towards the exit. “Ready?”

“Am I ever ready?” you ask with a whine but nevertheless proceed onward.

Time passed, and between cram school, actual school, some clubs, eventually January 11th passed and you held an ice cream cake that Shouto loved. You ate the cake together, relaxing as you sat in the warmth of his kitchen.

“Happy birthday, Shoucchan, never change!” you chirp, shoving his arm that rose to place the piece of cake in his mouth with your shoulder and watched as the sweet pastry splattered on top of the table. “...um?”

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

“Only ten?! What about the happy birthday boy.”

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

An hour later, when your stomach hurt from laughing too much and the sickly sweet weight of too much ice cream cake, you lay snuggled into Shouto’s side as the both of you watched some old movie.

“Thanks for always being here for me,” you mumble, eyes growing heavy as the heat of Shouto’s body began to lull you to sleep.

“I’m always here for you,” Shouto softly responded, hand gliding up and down the curve of your spine. “We should get you home. Your mom yelled and nearly skinned us both the last time you fell asleep here.”

“Only cuz she’s scared that we’ll have some sudden revelation we like each other and fuck each other’s brains out,” you groaned, absolutely not content with having to move. With your face buried in your hands now, you missed the weird pattern in Shouto’s chest over that.

“Come on, let’s go.”

“...fine, just because it’s your birthday.”

The next day, when Shouto followed Camie home instead of you, there was something that made you feel off as you waved at them goodbye. It wasn’t jealousy, that much you knew, but something worse when you watched the way your never-been-kissed-before best friend was ignorant to the dark eyes Camie sent his way.

To be quite honest, you’re not sure if you should be as surprised as you are when you get a phone call at ten p.m. to the sound of a confused, suppressed, overwhelmed voice of your best friend asking if you could confirm if Camie had fucked him. You then stayed on the phone for Shouto until well past two a.m., your heart hurting as he recounted the memory over and over again. You weren’t sure as to why your heart was breaking. By the sounds of it, Shouto had actually enjoyed it, but with every stammer to his voice, you felt lightyears away.

Most shockingly, however, was the effects this had on Shouto and his overall persona.

From ages four until fifteen, Todoroki Shouto was someone who was quiet, observant, took things a bit too literally, at all times was entirely precious in the way he interacted with people, and most importantly, unaware of the female population who lusted after him. It worked well for you because it was fun to tease him about things, nag him about how he was sixteen, and hadn’t been kissed even though if he asked any girl at school to kiss him, they definitely would. 

But sixteen-year-old Todoroki Shouto was a new shift, a new paradigm for you to learn. It wasn’t that he wasn’t confident before, but now he emitted a sense of confidence that he was aware of, that everyone was aware of. He became mature, sophisticated, styled even. He was still at times quiet, always completely observant. He rarely took things literally and understood rhetoric and sarcasm and hyperboles. Long gone were the days of preciousness, and instead, there was a sense of a predator on the hunt that bled in the way that he talked to people. Most importantly, however, he was fully aware of the female population and precisely who was lusting after him.

He flirted with women and girls. You would find him leaning against the lockers talking with them, somehow trapping them despite not actually trapping them. A new girl was sitting at your table with him practically every week in high school, each girl asking for the hundredth millionth time that the both of you were not dating. Some girls were even bold enough to apologize to you for stealing your best friend — as if you wanted Shouto.

You had already seen his dick, thank you very much (although the last time you saw it was well before you were nine years old), you weren’t missing out on how it probably looked now! Honestly, you had no idea how Shouto never managed to run out of female students to fuck, the school wasn’t that large, and he seemed to go through a few a week sometimes.

But he was your best friend, your childhood friend, and no matter how many girls came crawling back to your lunch table, bawling to Shouto to take him back, soaking the fabric of your skirt to help convince him to take her back, you stayed. You stayed, accepting the fact that your best friend had become an awkward teenage boy and turned into some high school sex freak.

You stayed when his shaggy hairstyle was clipped and became short.

Overnight, just as he went from being a complete virgin to not one, he went from a scrawny sixteen-year-old boy to a leanly built eighteen-year-old hot-ass heartthrob womanizer.

High school wasn’t forever. Even though it took you about a year to accept and integrate Shouto’s new sex life and behavior into your daily lifestyle with him (he always left four of the three days open for you as all his relationships were casual only). Soon enough, the both of you relaxed and found your own relationship to be entirely the same, and when university exams and applications came about, it was decided that yet again, the both of you would follow each other anywhere.

Which is where you were now.

Tokyo University,  a third-year student, living in an upscale three-person apartment with your best friend, of course. Shouto plus someone who practically begged in the most unbegging way to live with you.

Todoroki Shouto and Shishikura Seiji in the same apartment as you made for an interesting combination.

You hadn’t wanted Shishikura Seiji as a roommate at all. Period. 

There were about eleven other people you only considered asking, but they all said no for their own reasons. Bakugou and Midoriya had found their own apartment closer to the University, and for much cheaper, Kirishima and Mina were RA’s and could not move in. Kaminari said he liked Sero’s couch too much to leave, and Sero couldn’t live in an apartment without a balcony. Momo said the room was too small, Jirou said she’d rather continue living with Momo, Uraraka said it was a tad bit too much for her to afford (to be fair, you didn’t have to pay because the Todoroki’s were paying for your housing, but you understood), Tsuyu and Hagakure said they were living at home. Iida said he would be too uncomfortable living with a couple.

Everyone you found on the street wouldn’t accept your offer. Hence, Shouto invited the meatball and rosé obsessed Shishikura Seiji to live with the two of you simply because he was Shouto’s lab partner in one of his advanced physics classes. Stupid chemical engineering nerd.

At twenty-one years, you can now say that you’ve entirely adjusted to Shouto’s womanizer ways. Too often do you find yourself sitting at the kitchen counter, a steaming cup of tea in your hand as you drink it in slowly, watching with much amusement as either a no-name girl leaves or a walk of shame Shouto enters. It happens at most five times a week; you were used to it. While the unease had finally left, you had to admit you were impressed your best friend could easily sleep around as he did and maintain his outstanding grades.

However, just because you were finally used to Shouto’s womanizer tendencies didn’t mean the world was. Even in University, your fellow students would ask with wide eyes and behind flat palms if the two of you were dating — specifically if Shouto was cheating on you or if it was an open relationship. You would each and every time, smile cheekily, shake your head and say with a roll of your eyes: “No, we’re not dating. He’s not cheating, and no, this is nothing more than us being best friends. Sho is too much of a jealous person to allow for an open relationship.”

Somehow, the constant begging of approval and the erasure of any romantic connection between you and Shouto from the plethora of female students at Tokyo University wasn’t even the most annoying part of it all. No, not at all.

What really ground your nerves was a pattern you noticed when you were eighteen.

Unlike Shouto, you hadn’t had the chance to lose your virginity until you were eighteen. Most of the boys who liked you always assumed you and Shouto were dating, the ones who gathered the courage to ask you out anyways were boys you were less than impressed with. By some act of some higher god, your crush — the school's third-year baseball team's captain when you were a first-year — reappeared in your life and asked you out. It wasn’t your best decision, you can fully admit it, but he was friendly and sweet as he fucked you in his small bed.

You hadn’t expected sex to be like that, and if you had enjoyed this, you couldn’t help but wonder just how Shouto was in bed to have girls behaving like that.

However, the spell was broken when he helped you change back into your clothes, and he begged you not to tell Shouto he was the person you cheated on him with.

It was on this day that it clicked.

What went for him, unfortunately, went for you too.

Except where girls rose to the challenge to dethrone you from Shouto’s side (a shame because they were vying for a seat that you had no claim over), the boys lowered their head like some damn omega to Shouto’s alpha.

Disgusting.

Even with the plentiful, plethora, consistent denial of your relationship with Shouto, even with the tally of girls, Shouto’s bedded (and more excitedly, deflowered — ugh!) rose consistently, no one ever really believed you weren’t dating him! Too many a time, you had been centimeters from making out with a guy for them to pull away, screeching that they couldn’t allow you to betray Shouto. The men who didn’t care were sleezebags, and thus, with a growl and a snarl, you found that you were only able to fuck men who thought jackhammering their fingers into your labia — yes, your labia — would make you cum.

You didn’t want to say you hated your childhood best friend for such duplicitous, selfish reasons… but you did.

But today was Saturday, a few months into the new second semester of the school year, and with school spirit once again high and workload low. The entire campus was brimming with parties, celebrations, alcohol drinking competition, sleazy dancing, and enough sexual tension to kill all celibate people.

So, we look back to where we started.

Shishikura Seiji running away as you nestled back against Shouto’s chest.

“I didn’t think he was actually going to drink these things,” Shouto sighed, spinning the last few remaining drinks of his rosé in his hand. “It’s been in the fridge for almost five months.”

“He probably made his meatballs again and needed something terrible to blame the flavor on,” you half joke half say in complete seriousness. You were not fond of Shishikura at all, and he was not fond of you either. He had a tendency to mansplain everything, which continuously ground on your nerves, especially when he had no jurisdiction to act so confidently.

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

“I feel sorta bad,” Shouto sighs, his hand low and warm on your waist. “But I will admit, these drinks are practically like carbonated water.”

“2% alcohol,” you stress, your grin widening as you pull away from his chest to stare at him. Your gaze is bright, and his eyes are filled with amusement. “You’re either the world's lightest lightweight or a child with no tolerance to actually expect to get drunk off this shit.”

“I think you’re slurring your words already though, you sure you’re okay, lightweight?” Shouto teases, his soft smirk teasing.

“Who was the one who took three shots and passed out?” you wonder innocently, finger to your chin as if you were trying to remember.

“At least I don’t throw up when I crossfade.”

“IT'S NOT MY FAULT. MY BIOLOGY JUST HAPPENS TO WORKS THAT WAY!”

“Alright, bitch,” Shouto snorts, completely unattractively, “hurry up and get ready, yeah? We have a party we’re already late to, and we have no drinks for an actual pregame.”

You squeal excitedly, having forgotten the massive party that was being held a few blocks away. “I’ll be ready in ten!”

Typically, when you went out partying, you went with the group of eleven people you would have rather replaced Shishikura as a roommate. To get ready for said parties, you would always find yourself at Momo’s place with an outfit change, makeup bag, and hair styling items. You had made it a tradition with the other girls to get ready together. The only exceptions to which this wouldn’t happen was when someone had a work event or some family thing come up.

In your case, you had been stuck at a professor's office, diligently helping to put together their research journal as they were in their final steps of publishing their findings. Due to your friendly relationship with your professor, the time had been lost, and your ten p.m. call time to arrive at Momo’s had been missed with a quick:

↳ held up at work! go on without me, sorry! see you at the party!!!!

When you crashed through the front door of your apartment, you froze, seeing Shouto in the hallway by the mirror. Sometime between getting his haircut to be shorter and from this day, he had begun to style his hair by threading it back by his fingers, and boy, it looked fucking good. He was already dressed up for the party. Black joggers, a white t-shirt that was a bit too small if the tight, seductive way it clung to his muscles spoke of anything, and a hoodie he had no care about in case he lost it after taking it off once getting there. Shouto was practically immune to all weather types, he could be in both snow or fire without a single worry, but he knew that a large sweatshirt that smelled like him was enough to hook and line any truly desperate female.

Shouto had chuckled, taking in your frazzled state with years of practice and nudged toward the fridge, already knowing that you had missed your pregaming with the girls.

“Shishikura has two rosés left. Grab ‘em, and we can pregame together.”

But that was all unimportant and already said.

In the end, it took you thirty minutes to get ready.

You had practically smeared on your makeup, hoping the warm, crazy miscoloring would be hidden within the crazy light show the party would definitely be displaying. Your outfit consisted of a tank top that exposed your cleavage and a skirt that hugged your legs and ass just right.

You came stumbling out of your room, fingers trying to shove on your earrings, the rings on your fingers clicking loudly against each other. You smiled breathily, gratefully accepting Shouto’s sweater as you slipped on your comfortable heels at the doorway before hurrying out.

Shouto kept an arm around your shoulder the entire way out, the immense heat of his body keeping you warm as his sweater rested lazily, awkwardly, around your shoulders and arms. You didn’t want to put it entirely on to save your makeup, and in case anyone had any fucking thing to say about the show you and Shouto were putting on. Eventually, the bright and comical conversation between you and Shouto began to grow louder as the pounding of dance music began to ring in your ears. Soon enough, you passed a few drunk people, more and more, until you reached the house where the party was.

Shoving the sweatshirt into Shouto’s chest, you grinned as the smell of alcohol, weed, over-cologne men and women, the faint smell of puke, and the gross crawl of BO flooded your nose.

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

Shouto laughs at your evident piqued excitement, and after he pulls on the light blue sweatshirt, he grabs your hand, and into the overcrowded home you go.

The intense heat of overcrowded bodies on a dance floor that also makes up a drinking game floor makes you grateful for your choice of clothes. Everyone around you is already drunk, sloshed, intoxicated off their ass as unknown drinks spill from their red Solo cups, sometimes even raining down on you. You grimace as Shouto continues to pull you through. You can taste the Hennesy on your upper lip and somehow know that whoever was drinking it was a freshman with a vendetta to kill his liver and love for drinking before coming of legal age.

“What do you want to drink?” Shouto yells over the nearly obnoxiously loud music. He has his sight on the drinks counter. “Mixed or the juice?”

“Fuck me up with the jungle juice!” you yell right back, pressing to his side as two dancing (see, vigorously dry-humping) nearly trample on top of you. “Parties are meant to be a non-sober event. I need to be borderline blacked out five hours ago!”

The agreeing chuckle from Shouto isn’t heard by you at all, but you can feel his chest give a familiar vibration as finally, he pulls you from the sea of bodies to where the floor is especially wet and sticky. You’ve reached the bar area.

Grabbing your own red Solo Cup, you watch as Shouto makes his own drink. Heavy on the alcohol, light on the mixer, and a good handful of ice (he’s always liked the cold better). His hand reaches for your cup and you offer your cup up as he opens up an ice chest filled with neon-colored jungle juice.

When the drink is returned to you, the both of you cheers and take a long drink.

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

“You’re finally here, you fucking slut! Getcha fat ass over here now!”

Your neck is twisted to see the absolutely plastered group of girls you considered to be your closest friends, and you laugh loudly.

“Seems like I’m needed,” you yell at Shouto, trying your best to act nonchalantly as he smiles knowingly at you. “Text me about what you decide to do if we don’t see each other?”

“Of course,” he simply responds before placing the curve of his cup back onto his lip as hands grabbed your arms and whisked you away.

In a matter of sixty minutes, you all had played five drinking games.

The girls felt it was imperative to get you to their level right away, so they started off with a game of King’s Cup. Not only was the deck rigged against you — you pulled all four of the four cards and thus had to chug four times — but you had drawn the last King and drank some weird concoction of jungle juice, a tequila shot, a vodka shot, and whatever the fucking hell Mina was drinking. How you managed to chug that and stay on your feet was beyond you, but it was without saying that you had utterly and inevitably caught up with the girls.

After the King's Cup came the Flip Cup game, your team won thankfully due to Mina’s one flip wonder as Kaminari struggled to down the shot in the cup.

After Flip Cup came Smoke or Fire, a game that had Tsuyu stuck on the bus for a record-breaking one round. No one could believe she did that.

Then came a round of Shot Roulette to end with what you were currently doing now, using a drinking card game Momo had made in her spare time to do embarrassing things at random.

Five games in an hour… you questioned if there was by any chance illegal substances in the jungle juice because it had felt like a whopping two minutes.

“It’s midnight!” Hagakure hollered, stumbling backward as she grinned in drunken, stupid happiness. She giggled before singing, “Midnight… memoriessss~!”

Mina groaned at the reference but completely perked up as the dance music changed suddenly from its slightly mellow, good vibe song to none other than Everytime We Touch by Cascada. By tradition, by applicable law by all and every god, when this one song played, everyone needed to stop what they were doing and immediately head to the dance floor.

With your hand slightly sticky with alcohol, and your mind absolutely clouded with alcohol, you whooped loudly as Mina dragged you to the dancefloor. 

You, seven girls, formed a closed circle, your Solo cups sloshing over with alcohol, and your faces scrunched tight as you danced and sang as loudly as you could. Each pounding beat of music vibrated in your chest, each offkey note sung by the party-goers making you feel light, happy, dizzy, and oh so perfectly drunk. For just a split moment, you lock eyes with Shouto, who’s across the dance floor, his arms wrapped around some girl you don’t recognize, eyes drinking you in. You smile for a bit before turning back around, arms rocketing up to the air with your excitement.

Although the song ended, the DJ continued to play bangers, and you never once stopped in your mirthful dancing and grinding against your friends as the night continued to carry on. But when you spun out from Mina, your entire world spinning with it, a pair of warm, heavy, large hands rested on your waist, and you laughed.

“Who is this?” you ask, head slamming backward to try and look at the person who had caught you yet hadn’t tried grinding against you. “Oh, Inasa? Hi!”

Yoarashi Inasa was one of your University's well-known jocks. He was a skilled runner, one of the best Japan has ever seen despite his body type telling you he was a bodybuilder. Immediately your smile of idiotic stupor became intentful, seductive, still bordering extreme intoxication. Was Inasa your type? No, not really, but you could reasonably and accurately say that he was a handsome man, with a fantastic body, not to mention a pleasant personality.

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

“Hi, y/l/n,” Inasa said, his naturally loud voice easily picked up on despite the music being blasted in your ear. “How’s your night going?”

You lick your dry lips, eyes blinking a few times before you turn in his arms, your arms stretching so that you could wrap them around his neck. “Better now that you’re here,” you smile shyly. “How’s yours.”

“Ahem,” Inasa blushes, his eyes staring straight at your cleavage before looking back up at you. “H-Hoping to get better from here! Well, I’m sure it will be.”

“Oh?” you ask, your confidence building faster and faster as you press further against him. “Anything you have in mind?” —you press your thigh suggestively against the semi-hard spot against his jeans. — “Anyway... I can... help?”

Inasa groans deep in his chest, his head knocking backward at your implications, the pleasant vibrations passing on to you. You grin, fingers scraping against the bottom of his buzzcut and bringing him closer, praying for a kiss. But as he returns his head back down, his gaze leaves yours for a split second, and you watch in horror as a sobering look washes over him.

“Actually… you’re here with some random dude, right? I don’t want to step on his toes. I thought I saw you come in with some guy; sorry y/l/n, I can’t do this.”

And just as quickly as he was against you, he was gone.

It took everything in you not to screech bloody murder over the fact that you were once again left horny with no man to take responsibility for it.

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

#todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #bnha #bnha x reader #mha

[br0k3ngu4rd14ns]

What..?

Just some random ego things, mostly Wilford Warfstache.

Sitting in a room you didn’t expect to see the man. Having poor eyesight from when you got out of the mirror and out of Dark’s head. You had eyes covered in glitches, no one ever questioned. Mostly because the Egos existed, but here we was. Wilford mother loving Warfstache. The last time you saw him was the mansion, and then a few times when a mirror was around while in Dark’s head. He made eye contact with you, and immediately noticed the glitches. His eyes grew wide, recognizing you, “Y/N?” He called approaching slowly. You didn’t move, you felt like you were still in that damn head, “I feel like a shattered mirror... ughhh... I was in a shattered mirror.” You just complained to him, he sighed, picking you up so he could sit and rest you on his lap. A hand made it’s way through your hair, “It’s been years. And that’s the first thing you say? I mean to be fair I understand how you feel.. sorta.” No mood switches, no jokes, no lies, no goofy tone, he was serious. You just curled closer to him, your breath evening out, eventually you looked at him. He had a longing look in his eyes, “Y/N, Sugar, it’s been almost a decade.” Wilford had his hand wrapped on your hip. You nodded tired, just wanting to relax in his arms, he may be unhinged but you loved him all the same. He rubbed comforting circles into your hip, knowing how much of a sucker you were for that. You smirked, “I know its almost been a decade.. I just couldn’t escape his damn head. Damien is hard to get out of.” Wilford smiled at that, calmly placing a hand on your back.

•

•

Skipping a few days you and Wilford decide it’s a good idea to terrorize prank Damien, bad idea. As soon as he caught up to both of you, you had dropped to the floor. Your body was glitching in uncontrollably. Wil didn’t notice until he looked behind him and saw Damien standing above you. His hand was pressed on your arm, concern slightly lacing his eyes but nothing more. Wilford couldn’t just stop running, and he felt guilty.. was it guilt? So he just kept running, which left you with Damien. The monochrome man was now leaning down wiping glitches from your face. When you finally stopped glitching you looked at him, “Da..” You had started, hating the way the world was spinning. He had a small reserved smile on his face, “Y/N.. old friend. I’m sorry you had to be in that state.” He was now kneeling in front of you, his hands laying on his thighs as he knelt. You nodded slowly, feeling the glitches resurfacing slowly. He then placed a hand on your shoulder, “Wilford forced you into this didn’t he?” He inquired, “Sort of..” You admitted, he sighed and looked at you with a pained expression, “I haven’t seen him so lively since before you made that sacrifice.. he’s truly missed you.” Damien mumbled the last part, but you still heard it.

•

After that conversation, Dark had basically projected through the entire mansion, “Wilford Warfstach, come get your damn partner. They’re going to cry if you don’t show up.” Oh boy, this is one of the many reasons you enjoy Damien being your friend. Ever since you had officially moved in a day ago, with the help of the other egos you’re their favorite after all, he’s been far more friendly. Keeps saying how you remind him of happier times, hell, he even brings up things only you should remember! And shortly after Damien had blasted that, the mustache man came bounding down the stairs with a gun in hand and his bow tie screwed sideways. You chuckled, looking at Dark who had a gleam in his eyes. Google was woken up, he had walked out of the library and stared at the three. He seemed to be recalibrating, “Y/N! You won’t cry right? Especially in front of this demon!” The showman had said as he gripped you shoulders, the proclaimed demon glared at Wil. Putting a hand between both of you, “Wh-Who needs assistance?” Google asked, his eyes glowing and his mark shining brightly, “No one Google, we’re sorry for waking you.” You said looking over at the personified website. He nodded and smiled briefly before going back into his room to sleep once more.

•

•

Wilford had grabbed you and locked you in your shared room, he thought he could keep you safe. But since you literally have a balcony, you climbed over it and onto the room next door. It was Actor and Host’s room. Actor was pacing back and forth while reading a script while Host was nodding, occasionally adding his input on how things should be said. They hadn’t hear you slide in the room, “Heeeey.” You said with a sly tone, this caused Host to look over at you. Well the best he could without eyes. Actor stopped pacing and looked up at you, “N/N! Are you here for your script for the next part of In Space With Markiplier?” He asked with a giddy tone, apparently he was ready to get off of parole, “Nope, I’ll get that a week before like usual. You always do far too well on the scripts Host, I’ll remember ‘em!” You smiled, forgetting the glitching episode from earlier that day. Host smiled at you, so did Actor. They were both smiling, you always enjoyed being in their presence. It always seemed so epic. Host got up and walked towards you, his hand resting on your shoulder, “Wilford locked you in the room again didn’t he?” The writer asked, “Yeaaaah.. he got worried about me and how my episodes are coming closer together and more heightened. I swear he’s thinking on keeping me around Damien just so I won’t spaz out.” You mumbled, fiddling with his coat buttons. He just let you, “Well. The more we keep an eye on them, the better, correct?” Actor asked from behind Host. You always enjoyed his false optimism, even though he was faking it. Always more focused on his remaining days of parole, “I suppose.” You replied as Host walked back over to his desk, “Well. I think you should go to Anti’s room. I hear Wil.” Host said and Actor immediately went back to pacing. You nodded and got to the balcony, holding onto the railing and dropping onto the ruined balcony of the unhinged glitch. Did I mention that all of the egos had a room in this mansion? It’s huge! I’m not joking it’s at least seven stories high, filled to the brim with rooms and other thing. Every youtuber that was genuinely relevant in knowing each other had a level. Bottom was Jack, second was Mark, Third was Felix, Fourth was Ethan, and you lost count after that.

•

A knife gets thrown out the window almost impaling your foot. He was angry, god. You walked into the room to see a new bloody sigil on his walls, “Who now.” You say, in between a question and a statement, “Uhh.. no one?” Anti was guilty, not looking you in the eyes. His ears were a deep red, he was lying. The scar on his throat was still stitched up, “Uh huh.” You said leaning against the wall, making sure there wasn’t any blood on it beforehand. You stalked towards the elvish man, “Uh huh.” Your hand flicks across his scar when suddenly the door bursts open with a seething Wilford with Actor and Host in toe. They were shaking, Host was clutching his coat, while Actor was mumbling lines. The man walked over to the both of you and slapped Anti away from you, “WHAT THE HELL. 𝚆𝕀𝐿ᖴ𝗢𝙍Ⓓ?͜͡!̑̈” The name of the ego was glitchy in the Irish accent. And you were swept up into the insane man’s arms being forced out of the room.

•

•

Later that night you had walked over into the kitchen to see... the actual Damien, no glitches, “Damien? Is Dark asleep or something?” You called pulling a cup from the cupboards, “He’s asleep, yes. Let me have control while he sleeps. How are you Y/N? Making yourself comfortable with Will I see.” Aaaand he had noticed the possessive bite marks littered on your showing skin, “I’m well. Today was chaos though, and yeaaah.. Willy has been getting me comfortable. Although, he saw these more as a punishment?” You filled the cup with water, sitting on the kitchen island, “He sure has changed.” Damien smiled at you, “Oh, yeah. He has.” You murmured as you cleaned the cup after drinking from it, “Short conversation, but I’ll talk to you soon!” He had called as you left for Wilford’s room, hoping he hadn’t woken up from your leave.

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