#so kindly fed us w

[john-get-the-salt]

Coincidences w/ Ted Lasso

Imagine: A series of seemingly random coincidences lead you to meet a dashingly handsome football coach.

Contains: ted pining hardcore, small age-gap, fem!reader who is a singer, mentions of roy x keeley

Warnings: none

The first coincidence was Rebecca deciding she needed to work on her delegation skills, leading her to give Keeley the job of finding a performer of some sort for the annual AFC Richmond charity gala. The young woman preened at the task, and coincidentally knew exactly who she had to have.

You hadn't seen Keeley in nearly a year by that point. As a semi-popular American singer heading your very own world tour, you had little free time. But the two of you had kept in contact, calling and texting all the time. You met her a few years back on a shoot for a magazine spread on you and your music, by pure coincidence. She was the sweetest thing and you two became fast friends, despite you being a few years older than her. You had a lot in common and were very similar people.

Which was why, when she reached out with her proposal, you didn't hesitate to agree. In all honestly, you admitted to her, you'd been looking for a reason to relocate to England for a while now. Queue coincidence. It was your favorite place you'd ever been- and you'd been around a lot. You were also tired of life on the road. You were getting older, entering your late 30's, and you'd gained a strong desire to settle in one place and work more on writing/producing.

Keely was over the moon with the news, and jumped right into planning. Though the gala was still months away she did not hesitate to help you find a nice flat in the Richmond suburbs, as well as help with all of the other troublesome tasks that came with moving across the pond.

And just like that, your event of coincidences finally lined up.

-

It didn't come as a surprise that when you stepped off your plane and into the London airport, Keely was standing there with a big WELCOME sign.

Upon spotting her you immediately rushed over to give her a big hug. "It's so good to see you!"

"You as well,” she gushed. "Listen, I know you just got in and are probably exhausted, but the team is absolutely gasping to meet you."

"As long as I'm fed first, I'm in."

"Deal."

-

A few hours later Keely was parking the car at the AFC Richmond field house/office building. She had indeed fed you and let you change out of your comfy travel clothes. You were now in jeans and a nice top, as the two of you planned to go out after meeting everyone.

"I don't know why I'm nervous," you said with a little chuckle as you followed your friend in. "I think I just want all your friends to like me."

"Oh babes, do not even worry about that. They're going to love you. And you and Rebecca will get on like a house fire, I'm sure of it."

Ultimately you trusted Keeley, so you shoved down your nerves as you followed her down the hall and towards your destination. She knocked on a door labeled locker room, and only entered after someone called out the all clear.

"Hi everyone," she chirped. "This is one of my dear old friends.” She's just moved to Richmond and is going to be performing at the charity gala for us!"

You waved at everyone, smiling kindly. "Hi y'all, it's nice to finally meet the people Keeley never shuts up about."

"Oi!"

A rumble of chuckles echoed through the room of people.

Kee, once she finished glaring at you, introduced the team and then the coaches, Lasso, Beard, and Kent. Roy, who you'd actually met once before, gave you a friendly nod while Beard saluted you. Then Lasso....Lasso just stared.

He couldn't help it.

It wasn't as if Ted had never seen a pretty woman before. Heck, Rebecca was stunning and he worked with her nearly everyday. But you.....you were something else entirely. You were make-his-knees-go weak, heart-stopping, drop-dead gorgeous. He had to remind himself, with a gulp, who you were. You were a semi-famous star, who would never in a million years go for little ole him. Not to mention he was nearly 7 years your senior.

That didn't stop him from appreciating the jeans you were wearing, which did nothing to hide the curves and swell of your hips and behind, and the top that showed-ehem-a generous amount of cleavage. He gulped again. He was so fucked.

"Pleased to meet you, ma'am." He finally managed to spit out, tipping his ball cap. "Welcome to Richmond. Is that a bit of a midwestern drawl I hear?”

You smiled sweetly, ignoring Keely's gaze as it burned into the side of your head. "It is, Ohio born and bred. And thank you, Coach."

"Oh Ted's just fine."

"Alright, Ted."

Holy mother of god his name sounded angelic coming from your lips, Ted thought.

Holy mother of god Keeley hadn't mentioned how hot the head coach was, you thought.

"We were just planning on going out to get some drinks if you lot want to join? Surely you must be done with practice by now?" Keeley looked to the coaches.

"I don't know, we still had a couple more formations to work on," Roy said with a frown, causing the team to groan.

"Oh come on, the sun's proper setting and the days nearly over. It'll be fun," Keely begged, giving Roy her very best puppy dog eyes.

"Come ooon," you joined in, batting your eyelashes at Coach Lasso. "I need someone to teach me darts.....and the tab'll be on me."

The boys perked up, knowing that was an offer their coaches couldn't turn down.

"Well that's mighty kind of you, though i'd sooner shave off my own mustache before I let you pay for all the drinks. But I do suppose I could pass along my darts expertise."

The team cheered, high fiving and hooping. You and Keeley joined in, exchanging excited grins.

"We'll meet you lovely ladies there, sound good?"

"Sounds like a plan, stan."

Roy snorted. "God, you sound just like him."

You flushed as Lasso shot you a beaming smile, before grabbing Keely's arm. "Come on, let's go."

She obliged, blowing Roy a kiss before steering you out of the lockerroom and back outside.

"Soooooo" she trailed off as you two climbed back into the car and headed for the bar.

"Go on, out with it."

"When were you going to tell me you had a thing for football coaches?'

"I didn't realize I had a thing for football coaches until I saw that fine man. Please tell me he's single? Otherwise I'm going to have to seriously re-evaluate my morals and stance on home wrecking."

"As single as single can be."

"Perfect."

-

You laid on the charm later that night as you hung out with the team and their coaches. True to his word, Ted taught you darts and refused to let you pay for a single drink of his. He may not have relented, but you did insist everyone else put their drinks on your tab.

When he asked why, you just shrugged and told him you had more money than you knew what to do with, so you liked to spend it on other people. You didn't say it to brag or to make him feel bad, it was just the truth. It was matter of fact.

And fuck did Ted think that was hot.

The two of you chatted about anything and everything, from your time growing up to stumbling through adulthood. You had a great time, and everyone was incredibly kind and welcoming.

Unfortunately after that night the team got busy and you threw yourself into preparing for the gala. Kee had been right, of course. You and Rebecca got along incredibly well, and when she noticed you had an eye for details she invited you to be included in the planning on the finer details of the nights entertainment. The lights, the band, the set-up, all meticulously planned. You saw the coaches and members of the team in passing, never having more than a few minutes to chat. But that didn't deter Ted, who took every opportunity to talk to you and ask about the move and the writing and if you needed help with anything.

The quick chats were nice, but all of the ongoing work meant you didn't have the opportunity to really hang out with the team or coaches again until the night of the gala itself.

-

Keeley and Rebecca had taken you dress shopping beforehand and helped you pick out an exquisite gown.

It was the perfect shade of dark blue, covered in sequins that caught the light and shone like stars in the midnight sky. The strap-less bodice and floor-length skirts left you feeling elegant and beautiful, and with matching jeweled gloves you felt like a symphony.

With your hair up, makeup on, and carefully tied into your dress; you were ready.

You arrived to the venue after most of the crowds, through a back entrance. The idea was that no one would lay eyes on you until your performance, then after which you would be free to roam and enjoy the rest of the evening. Rebecca and Keeley were in a group chat on your phone, swapping updates, and you shot them a quick message to let them know you'd. A few moments later the two found you backstage, each in their own stunning gown.

"Holy fuck," Keeley screeched the moment she set her eyes on you. "I knew you were going to look good but you look unreal, babe. Ted is going to want to rip that dress right off of you when he sees it."

“Keeley!"

Rebecca just laughed, used to Keeley's antics. "She's right though, you do look magnificent."

"Oh listen to you two, have you looked in any mirrors tonight? You both look hot."

"Enough about us. How are you feeling about the performance?"

"Honestly I thought I was going to feel nervous, but I'm just excited and antsy to get it done with so I can come hang out with you guys."

"Oh I'm sure. Ted's already cornered me once, asking where you were and when you would be coming," Keeley said, giggling like a school girl. "I told him you'd save him a dance."

"Keeley, what am I going to do with you?"

"After tonight I have a feeling you're going to thank me."

You were spared from any more of your friends teasing when one of the backstage managers came up to the three of you, letting you know you were to be on stage in 10.

"Well, that's my cue." Rebecca straightened up her dress. "I'm on to give a little speech and introduce you ." She gave you and Keeley kisses on the cheeks before leaving, promising she'd find you both afterwards.

"I'm gonna’ find my seat now too, I wanna be able to watch Ted the entire time you're on stage."

Despite everything racing through your head, you laughed. "Oh I love you Kee."

"I love you too babe. Good luck, I know you're gonna kill it aye?" She gave you a final thumbs up before hurrying off, leaving you alone.

You were quickly ushered to the stage wing, where you could watch as Rebecca thanked everyone for the attendance and donations. Perhaps at some point earlier in your career you would have felt nervous before a gig like this. But being on a stage and singing felt like home to you now, it was like second nature. You knew you were good and you were proud of that.

"Now I have the absolute joy of welcoming our guest of honor tonight. Not only did she agree to come and perform for us, but she also surprised us with a generous donation to jump start one of our new community programs. I'll let her tell you a bit about it herself, so please join me in welcoming her to the stage!"

Applause erupted as you were given the green light and you stepped out onto the stage. You didn't flinch when the lights hit you, nor when the eyes of everyone in the room landed on you. You smiled brightly, accepting the microphone from Rebecca. As you stared out into the crowd you quickly found Keely and the team, all sat at a table together. They waved and cheered and gave you thumbs ups.

"Thank you very much for that introduction Rebecca. I promise I won't take up too much of your time, I just wanted to give my sincere appreciation to Rebecca and Keeley, Ted and his team, and everyone else here for making me feel so welcome. Richmond has become my home, and I am so blessed to be surrounded by so many new friends. I am also incredibly excited to be helping launch a new school program, in partnership with AFC Richmond, to provide under-funded schools with equipment and support to help kids participate in sports and other extra curricular activities, including performing arts."

The crowd erupted once again, loud whistles coming from one table in particular. You flushed under the extra attention, pausing before you spoke again. "I'm sure Rebecca and the others will be coming forward with lots of details about all of that soon, but in the meantime I think I should get to what I know best."

Rebecca winked at you, taking a final bow before exiting the side of the stage. You set the mic in the stand already positioned at the front of the stage as the lights changed and the curtains raised on the band who'd been set up and waiting behind it. As the beginning notes of a song started, you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the music.

You sang your heart out, to some of your post popular hits and a few of the ones that meant the most to you. You shamelessly stared and smiled at your friends as you sang, giving Ted a wink as he watched, his mouth agape. You floated across that stage in your gown like you were amongst the stars and god with Ted looking at you like that, you could have sworn you were.

You finished the final note of your final song and stared, breathlessly, out at the crowd as the applause began suddenly and all of once. Your friends were on their feet, screaming so loud their throats would surely hurt the next morning. And there was Ted, eyes crinkled from smiling so hard, looking at you as if you were the only people in the entire room.

The applause continued, even as you took a bow and exited the stage. Your chest was still heaving, lungs trying to play catch up. You gratefully accepted a cup of water from some assistant, taking gulps of the cool liquid to soothe your throat.

"Sir I greatly respect you for doing your job, but I'm afraid I must insist that I speak with her."

You set down your water, turning to find the source of commotion. When you found it, you nearly choked on your own spit. Ted was standing nose to nose with a security guard, trying to get into the backstage area that was roped off.

"Now I don't like to raise my voice, but I'm about to get madder than a hornet's nest if you don't let me-"

"Ted!" You called out.

He looked up, meeting your eyes, and his posture immediately relaxed.

"It’s okay, he can come back."

The security guard nodded, unclipping the rope.

Ted slid past him, tipping his head. "Thank you kind sir, I hope you can forgive any threat I may had said in the heat of the moment. I-"

"Ted," you called again in warning, hoping he would just stop before the guard actually kicked him out.

"And I'm walking away." He finally got the hint, turning away from the guard with pink cheeks and walking towards you. You met him halfway, one hand holding onto your skirts so you didn't trip.

"I'm sorry about that sweetheart, I just had to see you and I wasn't about to let one guard-"

You grabbed ahold of the front of Ted's suit and pulled him in, capturing his lips with yours. He froze in surprise for a moment before relaxing into you. His mustache tickled in the best way, stubble gently scratching your skin. One hand came up to cradle your cheek, the other wrapping around your waist to pull you against him. Your hands moved up through his hair, scratching his scalp gently with your nails.

You pulled away at the last possible second, lungs screaming for air, though Ted's arm around you didn't let you get far. You stared at one another, chests heaving in sync, noses just a hair apart.

"Are you sure?" He said softly. "I'm not one of those young, athletic boys who would be lucky to have you."

You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the desire fighting with the hesitation.

You reached up, fingertips gently dancing over his cheek as you stared unabashedly into his eyes. "Ted, you are the sweetest and most genuine man I have ever met. You are so fucking handsome, and every time you look at me with those kind eyes it feels like fireworks are going off inside my chest. And I mean, have you seen your ass in those uniform khakis?"

That succeeded in making him laugh, and the worry in his eyes eased.

"I don't care what anyone else thinks, and I have never been more sure. I want you. If you'll have me."

Then he was kissing you again, this time taking the lead, wrapping both arms around your waist so he could lift you off your feet and spin your around. You smiled into his lips, unable to keep from laughing as he pulled back just far enough to look into your eyes again.

"I'll have you for the rest of my life if you let me, darlin’. I've been waiting so damn long for you."

"And I you."

He couldn't help it, looking down at you he leaned in to peck you quickly-then again-then again, leaving you breathless every time.

"Come on sweetheart, I think we've got some team bets to settle."

You laughed again, cheeks sore from smiling as Ted settled an arm around your waist and led you back out towards the gala. "No way, tell me the team didn't bet on whether we would get together."

"Oh no....they bet on when we would get together."

"Your team is full of cheeky little shits."

"Yeah, well they're about to become our cheeky little shits."

He paused at the edge of the room, looking out to where the team was impatiently waiting for his return and then back to you.

"Ready?"

You knew what Ted was doing, giving you one last opportunity to change your mind or go running for the hills. But you did neither. A series of coincidences may have brought you two together, but you knew know it was meant to happen this way. So you grabbed one of Ted’s hands, kissing his knuckles before interlocking your fingers with his.

"Ready."

#ted lasso #imagines #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso x reader #x reader imagine #x reader #writing

[sleepymccoy]

Fuck it, Ive found myself googling topics to start a fight again cos I'm trying to write spones, so I'm creating a list for myself here. If you have suggestions please feel free to add them. You are also welcome to use this as a prompt, although I don't know if it'll really help

These are mostly nicked from other lists, so hey may need tweaking to be more star trek sci fi in vibe. But I think they suit the sort of fights they have. Entertainingly, many of the questions on these lists have already been addressed my star trek. Like, I'm not going to go into eugenics here. They have a whole arc in tos where everyone expresses their opinions on eugenics (against) (the Khan stuff). So like, those aren't included! Or questions about ubi, trek world is a successful communist, they're all pro ubi.

Anyway. I've tried to hash it down to topics where I can easily see either how they disagree, or I can see how they agree but for different reasons. And, as this is for me, I might even include some of those details too!

Is technology making us more or less connected?

Could argue either way. McCoy's only contact with his kid is via tech, so he could be in favour. Same with Spock, but I think vulcans have a lot of physical cultural stuff that form part of gathering that (American) humans don't as much. Like, incense and how the planet is a different temp to the ship. So, maybe Spock is really feeling how tech is a shadow of the real thing more.

OR

McCoy hates and is unimpresssed by tech, and just wants to be home. Spock is perfectly happy with the perfunctory contact w his parents.

Is censorship ever acceptable in art and media?

This one is fun cos you can world build a bit with the premise. What's the art and media? I think McCoy has one of those inspected opinions, he's against censorship until you start listing terrible things then he gets annoyed cos he kind of agrees with a little bit of censorship. He doesn't think dead bodies should be shown on billboards across from schools. But he says, when asked, that he's against any censorship.

I think Vulcan has censored pre reform stuff from society quite a lot. And Spock's opinion on this is a real character choice you can make, does he agree people should only find out about history in university when you're spoon fed it kindly enough? Or does he think everyone should know?

Should we prioritize space exploration or focus on fixing problems on Earth?

This one is hilarious to me, cos they both work exploring space. But I think McCoy could get worked up over the focus and energy being on new space stuff if they're leaving hungry children behind, you know. I think Spock leans bigger picture

Is traditional marriage still relevant in modern society?

Ha! Have a great time! They'll be so off topic within a minute and just discussing their personal life that their opinion doesn't bloody matter

Is privacy more important than national security?

I think Spock is more into privacy then McCoy. Can't put my finger on why, I might come back to this

How can a good diet be used to control certain diseases?

I think the groundwork of this argument is that McCoy is having a go at Spock being vegetarian. So they're discussing broadly, but McCoy keeps slipping in how great meat is lol

Is it better to live in a big city or a small town?

Spock likes cities! McCoy likes small towns! This can devolve into a squabble about feudalism if you want to go crazy

Animal zoos: are they morally acceptable?

This is good worldbuilding too, zoos would be more rehab centres now. But Spock likes to have a go at old earth practices too just to see McCoy go red

Is online learning as effective as traditional in-person learning?

I reckon Spock likes online learning. The little freak

Is online dating more effective than traditional dating?

Heheheheheheh make them fight about dating. Make them list their favourite types of dates in an aggressive way. Heheheh

#spones #spock #mccoy #tos

[sebsxphia]

bunny. | arts and crafts.

robert ‘bob’ floyd x little!reader.

￫ description: you and bob spend the afternoon doing some arts and crafts with the help of peter rabbit.

￫ c/w: age regression, other than that, it’s all fluff, fluff, fluff.

￫ a/n: thank you kindly to @angelic-dreams13 for the arts and crafts idea and @bradshawsbitch for bob and your stuffed animals! <3 | woodland creatures | agere masterlist | main masterlist |

Bob laid out the craft supplies in a neat order on your kitchen table. There was a whole range of supplies for you to use. There was glue (both normal and glitter glue), gel pens, felt tip pens, a whole rainbow of colouring pencils, and finally two pairs of scissors. There was a bigger pair which you presumed would be for Bob and another smaller pair with a jagged edge running up the sides.

Secondly Bob sat your current favorite stuffed animals onto the table, resting them against a vase in the far corner. There was a Peter Rabbit teddy with long and dangly legs and a new Peter Rabbit comforter. It was the perfect shade of baby blue and matched Bobby’s eyes. That’s why you had to get it when shopping the other day.

You were sat with your legs crossed on the kitchen chair and Bob drew another chair to come sit next to you. “Remember, Bunny, you ask Daddy if you want me to cut out anything using the big pair, okay?”

You nodded and murmured out a small yet cheerful, “okay!”

The final prized possession that Bob laid out on the table was the scrapbook that you had also picked up from the craft store. Bob had all the photos you wanted printed out and ready to go. It was a huge mix of photos. There were some photos of just you and Bobby, others were of your treasured days out you shared together and lastly there were prints of cartoon and illustrated bunny rabbits.

“Now, what would you like Daddy to do? Tell me and I’ll do it.”

You chewed on your bottom lip as your eyes scanned the ever expanding selection of coloured paper to choose from. But your eyes fell on something else entirely. You pointed over at your two stuffed animals sat in the corner and looked up at Bob.

“Please, Daddy?”

Bob let out a gasp and mockingly placed his hand on his heart, as if to act shocked.

“You’re right! I’m so sorry, Bunny. Here,” Bob placed the comforter in your lap and he took Peter Rabbit into his own.

You let out a giggle at your Daddy. “Silly, Daddy!” You squealed with a smile. Bob mirrored your smile at hearing your sweet laughter. He had a big grin on his face which made your cheeks heat up and continue your string of giggles.

“Daddy can be so silly. How could I forget you, Peter?” Bob placed a kiss to Peter Rabbit’s soft face and asked you again what you would like him to start with.

You eventually pointed to the sheets of colourful paper and explained to your very best ability, “green and yellow first please, Daddy. Matches the park with the duckies!”

Bob retrieved the photos from the pile of your play date to the park when you fed the ducks. He smiled down at them fondly and you nestled into his side to look over the photos as well.

“That was a good day, huh, my little Duckie?” Bob tapped your nose in turn and you let out a stifled giggle, your pacifier hanging out your mouth to adhere your speech.

You both continued to work through the photos. You would choose the colored paper you wanted as a background and Bob would cut it out to size. Then you both chose what color pen you wanted and precisely how much glitter was to go on the page. On the front page when you opened the scrapbook, “Bob and Bunny’s Little Adventures” was scrawled over in whimsical colors and glitter. “Bob” was in his own handwriting and “Bunny’s” was in yours.

The whole time Bob sat patiently and waited for your careful instructions. He never stopped you or told you want to do (apart from when you accidentally reached for the big scissors). Bob was content to watch your creativity flow how you wanted and watch as you both created something that was truly special to you, your Daddy and your age regression.

Bob watched with a sweet and loving smile. His gaze was softly trained on you and how your tongue poked out over your bottom lip, with your pacifier now hanging off your pacifer clip altogether as you were deep in concentration.

You reached over to the glue and glitter to add the finishing touches to a page and in turn, the glue was knocked over. You let out a small yelp and your eyes flooded with panic at the mess you’d caused on yours and Bob’s kitchen table. Bob was smart and thoughtful enough to layer the table with old newspapers, but unfortunately the glue dripped off the edge and onto Peter Rabbit.

“Peter! S’rry, Daddy!”

You immediately jumped up from your chair and grabbed Peter Rabbit who was sticky and covered in glue. Bob was quick to gather up the newspaper and neatly wipe away the remainder of the glue. Bob ran a soothing hand over your scalp and craned your chin upwards to look at him.

“No, no, my little Duckie. Don’t you apologise. Accidents like these happen, it’s all part of the creative process!”

Bob had a reassuring and warm smile across his lips and his voice was calm, collected and soothed you instantly. You nodded in response, but your face contorted into worry again when you felt Peter sticking to your hands, his fur becoming matted. Your bottom lip started to tremble ever so slightly and Bob squatted down to assess the damage to your poor Peter Rabbit.

“Oh no,” he peeled away your hands to the sight of Peter Rabbit. “Peter! You’re covered in glue. Poor guy, he must feel so chilly, Bunny.”

Your eyes were fighting back tears and you let out a couple sniffles. Bob could feel his heart break at hearing your pained muffles. Bob took one of your hands in his and his other hand came up to cup your cheek. He gathered a piece of your hair with his nimble fingers and tucked it behind your ear.

“Hey, hey. Look at me, Bunny. It’s okay! We can treat Peter to a nice warm bath, get him all clean and then dry him off. Sound good?”

In response to you nodding, Bob cupped Peter’s head and directed his gaze to him. “Sound good, Peter?”

He moved the back of Peter’s head to act as if he was nodding, to which you let out a small laugh. Hearing your sweet laugh was the most precious sound in the world to Bob.

“Come on, Bunny. Lets get him cleaned up.” Bob rose from the floor and took your hand in his. He retrieved Peter and placed him on his own shoulders as you went upstairs to the bathroom.

You spent the next hour leaning over the tub watching as Bob carefully washed the glue out from Peter’s matted fur. You watched with creases in the corner of your eyes, smiling from ear to ear as Bob would ask Peter how the temperature was, if it felt nice for him and how his day was going. Whilst Peter was being spun around in the dryer, you helped Bob clear away the kitchen table.

When Bob retrieved Peter from the dryer he pressed him close to his chest and inhaled deeply. “Oh, Peter! You smell just lovely. But I think you’ve had enough of my love for today. Bunny? I think Peter needs you.”

You took Peter from Bob’s large hands and squeezed your eyes tight as you wrapped him back into your arms, soft, dry and smelling like lavender. Bob thought his heart could give in from how adorable you looked right now.

“Come on, Bunny. Lets look through what we did in the scrapbook and Peter can look too.”

“B’ no glue, Daddy!”

You pointed your finger upwards, trying to act like you had just made an earth shattering statement. Bob let out a hearty laugh in response and scooped you up into his arms to sit you on his hip as he carried you to your living room.

“No glue, Bunny. You’re so right. I think Peter’s had enough of that today!”

taglist: @tallrock35 @luckyladycreator2 @beachbabey

#robert bob floyd #bob and his bunny <3 #bobby and his bunny <3 #bob x little!reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #bob floyd x you #robert floyd x you #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd x y/n #robert bob floyd fic #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert bob floyd imagine #robert floyd bob fluff #robert bob floyd drabble #robert floyd fic #robert floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd fluff #robert floyd drabble #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd drabble #top gun maverick #lewis pullman

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 7: The Sail

Chapter 37

The next morning, after a truly wretched night during which Alvan wakes up three times and Cashmere once more, we all stand by the door and get our schedules printed on our wrists. At least we can go to breakfast together. Then I have classes all morning, and Finnick has different classes. That’s not going to work. For one thing, Finnick really does need clothes. He can’t keep borrowing Gloss’s. And he’ll never be able to get himself to the room on Level 17 where they handle clothes and shoes and towels. And we need another pillow, because the two of us are experts at sharing even very small beds, but sharing a pillow is too much to ask of us.

For another thing, I meant it when I said I wasn’t letting him out of my sight ever again.

And there’s Katniss. I finally hear at breakfast what happened to her. How Peeta tried to strangle her the minute he saw her when they brought him back. I need to go see her, even though I really don’t know how to do that. I don’t know what she needs to hear, what will help her, what will make sense. I feel reasonably confident that I’m not the person for the job, because Finnick is back and normal if not well fed, and Peeta just tried to kill Katniss. I have what she wants, and even I know it isn’t fair.

But we’re also friends. Or at least as close to friends as I think people in our situation can be. And I need her to know that I’m still here for her.

So after breakfast I take Finnick to Level 17, and we get him a pillow and a towel and boots and clothes, which he hates, he says as he talks endlessly on the way back to 2289.

“I hate them, Annie. I’ll wear them, but I hate them. I hate wearing what everyone else is wearing. It’s like the Hunger Games all over again and I hate it. I’m done playing. I had to play twice, and now I feel like they’re getting me dressed to send me back in and I hate it.”

I hate it too, but it’s a better kind of misery than seeing the way his skin clings to his bones.

When we get to 2289, Alvan is there, skipping whatever class he’s supposed to be in right now and napping instead. He jerks awake when we enter, and won’t listen to our apologies for waking him.

“I woke y’all up enough last night, ’s only fair.”

We hurry through putting everything away. Finnick’s clothes go in my closet, because they’re almost the same size as Gloss’s and Finnick doesn’t want to mix them up, and my closet has more room anyway. I toss the extra pillow on the bed and he hangs the towel on the hook on the wall, and all the while, he is talking.

When we are done, I give him a gentle smile. “Honey, you’re driving Alvan up the mast.”

Finnick frowns, but Alvan nods, just visible over the edge of the top bunk. “Y’are. ’M sorry, but you’re makin’ me nuts.”

“Sorry,” Finnick says.

“Don’t apologize. Don’t wanna stop ya doin’ what helps. But I do want a nap.”

Finnick opens his mouth but Alvan holds up the hand that was hanging off his bed. “Told ya not to apologize. I’ve got no idea what you’ve been through these last couple’a months, ’n’ if talkin’ ’til the cows come home helps ya, I don’t want ya to stop on my ’count. Just want ya to talk somewhere else for an hour or two,” he finishes with a dry smile.

“That I can do,” Finnick says.

Alvan smiles and closes his eyes. “Thank ya kindly. Tell Katniss I say hi.”

I shut the lights off as we slip back out into the hallway.

As soon as the door to 2289 is closed, Finnick grabs my hand. “Does it bother you?”

“What?”

“I know I’m talking all the time. Does it bother you? I can stop.”

“No.” I squeeze his hand. “Don’t stop. I like your stories.” Then I stop in the middle of the hallway, dragging him to a halt with me. “I love you. Do you hear me? I love you exactly the way you are, everything about you, even your annoying personality quirks. I love that you cheat at marbles and that you’re a terrible singer and that you lie about how long you can hold your breath and that you will talk for hours because I can’t fall asleep when it’s too quiet. Alright?”

He hugs me. “I love you too. And I don’t cheat at marbles. It’s a game of luck. It’s impossible to cheat.”

“Then why do you always win?”

He thinks about this for a moment. “Because I’m very lucky.” He laces his fingers through mine. “I landed you, so I have to be.”

I roll my eyes. “Come on, let’s go see Katniss.”

He talks the whole way to the hospital, only pausing when I see Katniss’s sister at the other end of a hall and wave her down to ask which room Katniss is in. Prim gives us directions, then, unprompted, says, “Johanna is two rooms down from her, and Cecelia’s across the hall. Johanna is still under. They want to wake her up tomorrow. But Cecelia is up and stuck in bed and none of us have any good news for her. She might appreciate the company.”

I thank her, and we go to Katniss’s room.

“Katniss, I’m sorry…” I don’t know what else to say. I don’t want to make it worse, but it occurs to me that there isn’t a way to avoid that.

She nods. She looks sad, like she might cry but refuses to.

Then she looks at Finnick and smiles a little.

“Hi.” He grins.

She waves, then whispers, “I’m not supposed to talk.”

“Then we’ll talk to you.” I sit down in the chair by the bed. “And you can just… hit me when you’re tired of us.”

Katniss nods again, and Finnick launches into the story of his first jellyfish sting, and then the epic of the clownfish, and then the tale of the octopus that tried to kill him. He talks and talks and talks, and I am content to let him, even though I’ve heard them all before, because Katniss hasn’t, and his stories mean he’s back. He’s here.

Katniss falls asleep sometime during the octopus story, which is disappointing, because I know she’d get a laugh out of it, especially from how funny she seemed to find the story about the jellyfish sting. Then again, Finnick likes to talk. It’ll be easy to get him to tell it again.

Then we go down the hall to Cecelia’s room. She lights up when I poke my head in.

“Annie! You’re okay!”

“Yeah!” I hurry to the chair at her bedside, sit, and take her hand. “Yeah, I’ve been in Thirteen since Katniss blew up the arena. They keep me fed. And Alvan keeps me out of trouble.”

“Who else?” She looks eager for news, for anything really.

“Katniss, Beetee, Haymitch. Gloss,” I add quickly, with a mischievous glance at Finnick.

Cecelia laughs. “Can’t believe he got out. Wasn’t even in on it, and he got out when we couldn’t.”

“He was right by the tree. He jumped me when Brutus went after Alvan, but he knew we were up to something. He broke my fingers and staged a fight, and they pulled us both out.”

Finnick sits on the foot of the bed, careful to avoid the brace around Cecelia’s right leg and foot. “You think that’s a surprise? Imagine being me and walking into her room and finding out she’s living with Gloss.”

“At least you’re not still in here,” Cecelia says, looking around the room disgustedly. “It reminds me too much of… there.”

Finnick nods. “The rooms aren’t much better, but the company is.” He smiles at me.

Cecelia smiles back. “I’m happy for you two. Not many of us got to make things work. Now I just hope you get to go home.” Her voice catches on the last word.

“Cecelia-” I start.

“We got out.” Finnick says, right over me, voice firm. “You and me. We survived and we got out. We’ll survive this, and then we’ll go home.”

“But what if there’s no home left?” Cecelia whispers. “They showed me the footage when they bombed Eight. It’s- There’s-” Her breathing is labored. “What if I don’t want to go back?”

She’s done it. She’s put into words what I’ve been terrified of ever since I learned they bombed Twelve. What I couldn’t quite know I was scared of. The danger I have always been able to feel but not find.

I stare at Finnick, expecting the same petrified fear I’m feeling. What I get is a soft smile.

Finnick turns back to Cecelia and takes both her hands. “Home is just the place where the people you love are. If you don’t want to go back to Eight, you can always move in with us. Bring Mark and the kids. We’ll build a big house, up in the Traps, so we can sit on the beach every day.”

I catch myself imagining it as he talks.

“Annie’ll teach the kids to dive, and we’ll eat lobster every night. I’ll buy a boat, and we’ll go out whale watching on Saturdays. Thursday night is game night, obviously, and we’ll invite all our friends for holidays. We’ll throw the craziest New Year’s parties you can imagine, and when we’re all hungover the next morning, Annie’s dad will make coffee so good we’ll fight over it, except Annie because she’s crazy and doesn’t like coffee. And I’ll learn how to make pancakes…”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

It takes almost three weeks for Cashmere to start talking again.

What finally does it is Gloss talking about Taffeta and Farroe, which is skirting the edge of setting me off, though I have noticed an odd but marked improvement in how often I fade out since starting these We Remember propos.

We all feel a little weird about doing most of the tributes from One and Two. They’re not underdogs, and they don’t ever become as popular in the other districts as victors from poorer and less Capitol-cozy places, but Plutarch made the argument that Cashmere and Gloss are on our side, and plenty of other victors have joined the rebels in One and Two, and the whole point of these propos is to show that the districts are unified in their fight against the Capitol. Every tribute is a child, not just the ones from Twelve and Ten and Seven and Three.

So we are talking about Taffeta and Farroe, and Cashmere says quietly, “I always hated having volunteers.”

We all jump, turn to look at her.

“I volunteered,” she goes on. “That’s why I hated them. They didn’t know what they were getting into. I knew what they were getting into. But I had to keep up the act. Had to pretend I loved it. Loved their confidence and their swagger and their built-in skill. Loved how much they adored me. I couldn’t tell them what it was really like. You can’t explain it. You know.” She looks around at all of us.

Alvan, sitting next to her, nods.

“But how do you tell this glory-hungry eighteen-year-old that they could die in there just as easily as some twelve-year-old from Five? That killing someone changes you? How do you tell them not to want this?” Cashmere stares around, eyes wild.

“You can’t,” Finnick rasps. He had a volunteer one year, three years before me, I think, and one in the Seventy-Third Hunger Games. “You have to let them go.”

“Just once, I wanted one of them to be scared.”

The rest of us think about this for several seconds.

“I was scared,” I whisper. “I was so scared. I know I didn’t look like it and I didn’t act like it, but I was terrified.”

“Think we all were,” Alvan says. Then he glances down at his hands, resting at the edge of the table like they usually do. Cashmere has one of them in a white-knuckle grip. “Think we all are.”

~~~   ��                           ~~~                               ~~~

Gloss still paces at bedtime, but Cashmere bumps his shoulder playfully and he settles down faster. Alvan still wakes up panicked in the night, but we are all there to remind him he isn’t in the arena, that he’ll never go back. None of us will. Cashmere shrieks and sends Finnick spiraling but I am there for him, and Gloss—and increasingly Alvan—is there to talk Cashmere down. I fall asleep to all of them talking to me and to each other, dangerously close to a normal group of adults. Finnick jerks awake in the morning, reaching for anything to use as a weapon, then melts back into bed when his eyes meet mine.

Cecelia gets moved out of the hospital and into 2226.

We make our demands. We’re victors. We stick together. The powers that be say no. We try again. We drag Haymitch with us and Haymitch drags Plutarch along and the powers that be tell us they are reassessing our living situation.

They put Finnick, Alvan, and Gloss in 2109. Cecelia, Cashmere, and I get 2110.

We say nothing but thank you. We go back to 2289, pack up our very few belongings, and shuffle ourselves appropriately. When we get up in the morning, Gloss goes back to 2109 and I go back to 2110 and we all print our schedules on our wrists in our assigned rooms.

Most days we spend down in Production, talking about every tribute we’ve ever known. After supper, we go down to Special Weaponry and throw things at the dummy range. At least one of us visits Katniss and Johanna every day, until Katniss goes to Two. Then we keep visiting Johanna.

We eat meals together like a normal group of friends. Hazelle chats easily with Cecelia. Rory and Vick talk cattle with Alvan because they are determined to get a cow after the rebellion. Posy loves each and every one of us, showing off her lucky first tooth coin at every opportunity.

One night we get to supper a little late and have to crowd in and Posy jumps up from her seat, shoves Finnick into it, then hops up onto his lap with commendable confidence.

At the sight of Finnick’s surprised and somewhat cowed expression, Cashmere bursts into laughter, the bright sound filling the air. It’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh since she got here.

This makes Posy light up. “Your laugh sounds like singing. It makes me happy.”

On my other side, Alvan nods.

“You know what would make me happy?” Finnick says, doing his unpracticed best to eat left-handed around Posy. “If you meanies didn’t laugh at me.”

Cashmere laughs harder and Gloss and Alvan and Cecelia and I join her.

Posy giggles and tugs on my sleeve.

I lean down close to her and she whispers, in the loud way only little kids can, “Your boyfriend is too nice.”

“Oh is he?” I laugh.

She nods, very seriously. “They’ll never stop picking on him if he doesn’t fight back.”

“Hear that, Finnick?” I grin at him. “You are just too nice.”

“Sorry,” he grins back, “I was too focused on the ‘boyfriend’ part of that sentence. It’s got a nice ring to it.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

I have just finished brushing my teeth when I remember. “Alvan, where’d you get that coin you gave Posy?”

“The first tooth coin?” he asks from the table where he is looking at the notebook Katniss’s mother got for me that is now nearly full of drawings.

“Yeah.”

“It was mine. From my first tooth.” He turns the page with an impressed nod.

“How… How did you still have it?”

“It was my token in the Games. Both of ’em, actually. So, it’s a real lucky coin. ’N’ I figure I don’t need it anymore, so why not give it to someone who does?”

I sit down next to Finnick as he tilts his head at Alvan.

“You might be the only genuinely good person to win the Hunger Games,” Finnick says, with a kind of awed respect in his voice.

“Nah.” Alvan snorts. “Ain’t none of us any better’n the rest. We all killed… You ’n’ I oughtta know better’n anyone. ’S not the Games that make us bad, ’s what we do after. ’N’ most of us come out okay in the end.” He pauses, and when he continues it is in a much quieter voice. “Givin’ lil miss Posy that coin didn’t change that I killed Cally, but it is what Cally would’a done. That’s how I’m tryin’ to live. For her.”

I go to bed with Alvan’s words still ringing in my ears.

What would Mako have done?

I fall asleep with vague imaginings of a world in which Cally and Mako won instead of Alvan and me. Cally talking excitedly with Posy about losing her first tooth. Mako carrying Cassia Vickers in a waltz at his Victory Banquet. Mako becoming best friends with Augustus. Mako getting sold around the Capitol like Finnick. Mako getting reaped in the Quarter Quell. Mako hearing the jabberjays mimic a twisted version of my long-dead screams. Mako, Mako, Mako.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

At first I’m not sure what woke me up. I’m generally such a heavy sleeper that I have, on occasion, slept through Alvan’s nightmares. Finnick has no idea how I do this. Neither do I.

But tonight, the light by the other bottom bunk flicking on has roused me from my strange dreams of Mako’s life as a victor. Cecelia, in her pajamas, is talking to Alvan. She doesn’t get much said before he sits up and nods, then pulls himself out of bed and flicks the light off.

Finnick jerks awake.

“You’re alright. It’s me. I’m here.”

He nods against my shoulder, already drifting back to sleep.

“Be back,” Alvan whispers, following Cecelia out into the hallway.

He is not back when I wake up the next morning. Cecelia is sleeping in his bunk, her leg brace propped awkwardly up against the wall. It makes me wonder what exactly happened over in 2110 last night.

Finnick sleeps for another fifteen minutes, then wakes with a yelp. I have him calmed down almost immediately, but Cecelia is already up.

“Sorry,” Finnick mumbles.

“Oh don’t worry,” Cecelia almost laughs. “I have three kids. I get woken up by other people’s bad dreams a lot.”

I get dressed and Cecelia and I go back over to 2110. We meet Gloss in the hallway.

“Well?” Cecelia asks.

Gloss shrugs. “I have been replaced. Should have seen it coming.”

Cecelia laughs. “I suspected, but I didn’t know if-”

The door to 2110 opens and Alvan comes out. “Y’all havin’ a hall party?”

“Something like that,” Cecelia says. “You must have gotten her back to sleep?”

Alvan nods. “Thought we might have to take ’er back to the hospital, but we got ’er down eventually.”

“Good.” Cecelia smiles. “I’ll trade you beds.”

Alvan opens his mouth, but Gloss cuts him off. “Don’t you dare say no.”

“Alright then.”

When everyone is dressed and scheduled, we go down to breakfast, and then to Production, where they have a dozen or so We Remember propos ready for our viewing and approval. We settle around the table, Alvan resting his hands on the edge like he always does, but this time I notice the one next to Cashmere is palm up, and before I even have time to process that odd and uncomfortable-looking change of habit, she grabs the hand in a white-knuckle grip and stares through the table.

I decide not to comment on this as Fulvia plays the first propo.

Six propos later, we approve all of them quietly, and then Fulvia starts us on the next bunch from her list. She does this gently, picking a random name and asking the group at large, and then she lets us drift from there, and she checks off names as we go.

****

****

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Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider @anakins-ride-or-die

#wrey writes #the hunger games #thg: tiger shark #annie cresta #finnick odair #ptsd #dissociation

[kaeyazuha]

As much as I wanna say “Lmao maybe Sneznyaha is why” I can’t bring myself to think so. Mainly because, if rumors are correct, the Tsartisa was once the archon of love. If I really had to put anything down, it might be Fontaine. Justice has always been a shaky term when thrown around because everyone has their own version of it. But at the same time, the Teyvat we know now isn’t the same Teyvat as the Abyss Twin knew. A lot of changes happen and it’s to the point they’re fighting for a dead nation.

I’m thinking that our adventure is parallel to our twin’s but in a sense of a downward spiral. They’re getting more snarky, blunt, and full of themselves. And I wanna believe that the twins balanced each other out in a sense of keeping the other in line. Tbh, it seems to be a coping mechanism from being separated from their sibling for so long with rarely any help. The only help we get from is Dainsleif but he appears so rarely for the Traveler. So for them to start getting arrogant and egotistical seems like they’re trying to cope and possibly impress their sibling to come back.

This is coming from someone w abandonment issues and would do whatever they could as a child in hopes of garnering attention HAHA. So this spiral we see could possibly be the Traveler either 1) seem independent as if they don’t need their twin. Which might make said Twin come back. 2) a way for them to think they’ll do just fine without said Twin because they’ve done everything together before this. 3) a wack ass form of telling themselves that everything is fine. Or 4) all of the above.

I kind of hope we get a character that knocks the traveler down a peg or two. Just a simple reminder that they’re not a god even if they are from another world. Teyvat has its own laws, after all. And I’m sure Celestia wouldn’t take too kindly for an outsider of their world acting all high and mighty.

I like to see their arrogant act as a coping mechanism. A way to hide that they’re honestly not doing that great and just want their family back. Because, let’s be honest, if we kept helping people but never got the help we needed, we’d get bitchy. At least I would.

Sorry for the late reply!

That makes sense, I like it! I forgot where Fontaine is, but I think we'll get there after Natlan and before Snezhnaya, so hopefully we can see what happens soon enough. Also a fair point about Teyvat changing over time. Maybe there will be ruins from an older time in Teyvat with more clues :0

YES I've noticed Genshin loves to do things in pairs, and I love the idea of that applying to the siblings as well. After Makoto died, Ei spiraled. Same goes for Venti and his friend, Zhongli and Guizhong, Kazuha and his friend, etc etc. but a lot of things come down to a pair seperated by death, leading to the spiral of the other person. While our sibling isn't dead (yet) I'd like to think this is worse than that, knowing our sibling is out there and could come to us at any time and chooses not to. Not to mention all the hints and even the blatant words of a few straight-up telling us that our sibling doesn't care for us anymore.

That makes perfect sense. Honestly I think a combination of all 4 seems likely. I feel like there will be a point where Traveler is just so pissed and fed up with all of it, that they just quit for a time. However, I'm really hoping the big meltdown happens in front of the sibling. I want traveler to be angry and yell at them for all the hell they made traveler go through to find them and travel the world, yell about Celestia and its lies, all the losses that happened, etc. BONUS POINTS if the sibling in turn does the same. Genshin's usually good at angst if nothing else so hopefully this happens, it'll be a good way to see where they both stand.

YES YES YES I thought Raiden would be a reality check, but no- we've technically been beaten several times- Dvalin (I think), Signora, Raiden, Osial, etc. The difference is that even in those fights, we came back and beat them. I want there to be a fight that traveler just can't win. I think there's almost nothing worse than feeling powerless, especially for someone like traveler.

I haven't thought of it that way. :0 I figured Traveler was just slowly getting fed up and desensitized to other people's issues, so they distanced themselves as a result- but I like the idea of a coping mechanism! That's smart. And hell yeah, I'd be beyond pissed off by now, I'm honestly impressed at both Traveler and Paimon's patience.

#kycasual

[house-of-slayterr]

Sister, Sister:

Hannnibal Family pt. 10: @iloveslasher @charliedawn

Morgan’s POV:

Things had been going seemingly well recently. Peter was happy, Kevin was preoccupied with something that wasn’t w reckless for once, and uncle was busy with work. Dad seemed to have taken a liking to young Newt, which bodes with for them. As long as they kept Peter in line, they were welcome to be a member of this family.

They knew to much to leave now anyway. And Hannibal’s hypnosis sessions were going well. I was surprised by a sudden knock at the door. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen and hid it behind my back. Who would be knocking at this time of night? I opened the door to see a woman standing there.

“Can I help you?”

“Is Newt here?” She asked.

“Who are You?” I asked, suddenly feeling protective of my new younger sibling.

“I’ve looked everywhere else, are they here?” She asked, her tone growing more agressive.

“And I’ll ask again, who are you?”

I was growing fed up with her rudeness.

“Wren?” A voice came from behind me.

It seemed the commotion had woken Newt up from their nap on the couch.

“Go back inside, it’s fine.” I said.

“Thank god you’re alive.” The girl, seemingly Wren, pushed past me, and went to grab Newt.

I was quick, shoving her by the shoulder into the wall and pulling my knife. Surprisingly she didn’t even flinch.

“Newt?” I asked.

“Relax Mo, she’s my sister.” They said, seemingly panicked.

I checked to see if they were lying. It wasn’t a good habit to get into to assume someone was friendly just because they looked it on the surface. I watched as she grabbed the blade of the knife, forcing it away with her hand as it hit into her skin.

“Exactly, I’m her sister, so if you could kindly get the fuck off of me.”

I stepped back, withdrawing the knife as it cut deep into her hand. Serves her right for being rude. The commotion drew Hannibal out of his office too. I watched as she made her way over to Newt, caressing their head in her hands as if there was no blood on them.

“They didn’t hurt you did they?” She said, checking for injuries.

I scoffed.

“Who’s this?” Hannibal asked from behind me.

“Apparently the sister-“

We watched for a moment curious if we should do anything. After a minute she seemed to be happy with the lack of wounds on her body.

“I was looking all over for you. And when I went to the house no one was there. Your stuff was gone.” She pulled Newt in for a proper hug. “I was so worried.”

“I didn’t know you were coming home from college.”

“You stop responding to my letters. I thought he- I’m just glad you’re ok.”

She finally turned to look at us, seemingly remembering we were there.

“You’re hands bleeding.” Hannibal stated flatly.

I was glad Kevin wasn’t home at the minuet. The scent of blood would be driving him crazy. Hannibal and I were much better at controlling ourselves. Him being older and me being a doctor.

“Newt, Darling, you look tired, why don’t you go shower and rest yeah?”

“But-“

“I’ll be here when you wake, promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

I watched as Newt walked up stairs.

“Sorry for the rude intrusion, but I was under the impression that my sibling was in danger. I’m sure you can understand.” She stated.

At least she had the manners to apologise. Neither of us said a word, I watched as some of the blood from her hand dripped onto the floor.

“She’s never missed a letter. When she didn’t respond, I assumed the worst.”

“So you knew.” Hannibal said.

“There was nothing I could do. You have to understand that if I could have taken her with me, I would have.”

“You’re a coward.” I stated.

She didn’t deny it. She looked up to see Newt peering over the banister.

“Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private?”

She followed Hannibal and I to his home office. I broke out the first aid kit and approached her. She flinched this time.

“I’m a doctor.” I reassured her.

“A doctor who threatens people with knives without hesitation, forgive me for being mistrusting. I can do it myself.”

She held her good hand out, waiting for me to hand her the kit.

“You’ll need stitches, you need two hands for that.”

She sighed, growling under her breath.

“Fine. Thank you.”

I made her sit on the couch as I silently adresses her wounds.

“I assume you have questions?” Hannibal started.

“They seems happy. No recent injuries, the house was empty. No police tape. What did you do to our father?”

Hannibal smirked. I’ll give it too her, she was quick.

“Morgan, would you like to answer that one?”

I smiled up at her.

“We ate him.” I said, as I pierced the needle through the flesh of her palm, throwing the first stitch.

We expect the usual, screaming, yelling, crying. She didn’t even push me away.

“And our mother.”

“Framed, in jail. She was a coward.” Hannibal offered.

“Do they know?”

“I’ve helped them to forget, they couldn’t handle it.”

“Good, let’s keep it that way. They really do seem happy here.”

“You’ve only been here a few minuets.”

“I know my sibling. They made eye contact with me when I walked in. They’ve never done that before.”

“You s’en to be handling this information well.”

“My father was an asshole. At least Newt isn’t burdened with sharing his blood. Half sibling or not, I would do anything for them. Freaking out will do nothing to help them. Besides, he deserved it.”

“You left them.” I reminded.

“Only because I would have died if I stayed. I didn’t want them to find me like that.”

She rolled up her sleeve, revealing deep scars. No wonder she didn’t flinch, she was used to the sting of a blade. I finished the last stitch in her wound.

“I’m Morgan, this is my uncle Hannibal.” I offered, finally introducing ourselves.

“Serenity. It’s a pleasure.”

She reached out to shake my hand with her good one. She did the same to Hannibal.

“Thank you for protecting them. I can never repay you for that.”

“Just keep our little secret. That’s payment enough.”

“Of course. As far as I’m concerned our parents ran away and abandoned us. I know nothing about your families extra curricular activities. They haven’t-“

“No. We wouldn’t force that upon them.” Hannibal spoke. “Peter, the youngest, he’s a vegetarian, they usually eat with him. They do everything with him actually.”

I watched her face light up at this.

“They’ve finally made a friend.” She said. “Would you look at that. May I stay for dinner? It’s been a long day and I’m awfully peckish. Besides, I promised Newt I’d be here when they woke up.”

“Please, be our guest.” I said.

Newt’s POV:

My sister looked upset when she walked through the door. But I was nothing but excited. It had been months since I’d seen her and I was just so excited she was here. But then she shooed me away. I pouted at the top of the stairs, trying to see if I could listen in. But my efforts were useless.

I went into Peter’a room, shutting the door and flopping down on his bed. I always slept better in his bed than I did in my own. Even now that I had my own room, I didn’t like to spend too much time in there. But I did when I needed to have some space. Peter was out with Kevin and I doubted he’d mind if I napped in his bed. I threw on one of his hoodies and snuggled into it.

An hour later, I was woken by a shake to my shoulder.

“Peter? You’re home!” I shouted a little too loud.

Peter flinched. But laughed none the less.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just excited you’re here.”

He chuckled once again sitting next to me.

“You know you have your own bed right?”

“Yeah- but my beds cold.” I lied.

He rolled his eyes.

“You seem excited today.”

I nodded, popping up on my heels and nodding vigorously.

“My sister stopped in! You’ll get to meet her!” I said.

He raised an eyebrow.

“The sister that abandoned you and ran off to college out of state?” He asked.

“It’s not like that.” I shoved his shoulder. “If I got into a Fancy college she would beat my ass if I didn’t go. And I’d do the same to her.”

He laughed even louder this time, I wasn’t sure what was funny about that.

“I’ll bet $20 on Kevin that you win.” He said between laughs.

I frowned.

“I can be scary!” I protested.

“Sure Newt, you’re about as scary as a sunset.”

“Rude.” I mumbled.

I wasn’t actually upset. I mean who could be mad at that face? Peter has mastered the art of using your cuteness to get what you want. And I can’t blame him. If I looked like that, I’d be doing the same Damn thing.

“What are you looking at?” He asked.

“Your pretty face.” I smiled back.

He blushed a little and I giggled.

“No!” He said.

“No what?” It was my turn to teased.

“You don’t get to call me cute and look at me like that. It’s weird.”

“Relax lover boy. It was joke. You know I’m not like that.” I said.

He didn’t seem convinced.

“If I ever say that and mean it, so me a favour and punch me.” He cracked a small smile at that. “Because either I’m brainwashed or replaced by a demon.” I finished.

“Demon best friend could be fun though-“

I smacked his shoulder again.

“Ow, ow! Ok. I won’t let you get replaced by a demon, geez. That one actually hurt.”

“See, I can be mean.”

“The objective was scary, but close enough.”

I raised my hand again and he pulled back, sprinting off the bed and sprinting down the hall.

“You get back here!” I called after him.

I chased him around the house, laughing the whole way. Until I was stopped by an i movable force. My nose hurt and I scrunched it in distaste. I pulled back enough to see Kevin staring back at me.

“S-sorry Kev.” I said.

He kept staring, making me squirm under his gaze.

“I think you broke your nose.” He said simply.

It was now I could feel the thin trickle of blood, running warm down my lips.

“Oh” I said. Attempting to wipe it on my sleeve. “Maybe you and your washboard abs shouldn’t be in my path.” I said.

He scoffed.

“You’re funny.” He said. But there was no humour in his face.

He reached out to touch me, but I flinched. I couldn’t help it, Kevin still gave me the creeps. He was different than the others.

“What are you doing.”

“Let me fox it for you.” He sounded annoyed, like it was some sort of chore.

I supposed it couldn’t hurt.

“Tilt your head back.” He said.

I did as I was told. He grabbed my check with one hand to steady it, then his other hand fell on the bridge of my nose. It was sore. I winced at little. He didn’t even give me a warning before I heard a crack and let out a small whimper.

“There.” He said. “Better.”

I pulled away to tell him thanks, when I noticed some of my blood got on his finger. He looked me in the eyes and licked it off, before turning or leave. I shuddered.

“Weirdo.” I said out loud.

I continued my search for Peter, and found him lurking in the study with Morgan.

“There you are.” I said.

“Here I- what happened to your face?”

“Kevin happened.” I groaned. “Why do his pecks feel like a stack of bricks?”

It was Morgan’s turn to laugh now. He set down the anatomy book he was reading.

“You’re peculiar.” He stated.

“Thanks.”

“Does it hurt?” He asked, pointing to his own nose.

I shook my head.

“I’ve had worse.” I shrugged.

He frowned. Peter came around the chair and pulled me into a his arms, inspecting my face.

“You think it’s broken?” He asked Morgan.

Before the young doctor could comment, I beat him to it.

“It’s fine, Kev set it already.

Morgan looked disgusted.

“Newt time you get injured, come to me yeah?” He said it less like a question, and more like a demand.

“Sure,” I gave him a small smile. “Is Han making dinner?” I asked.

“Yes, uncle is preparing. Your sister agreed to stay for dinner.”

“Oh goody! So you will get to met her tonight Peter!”

He hummed, not really seeming that interested. It’s ok, he just didn’t know her yet. I was sure he would love her!

I sat down on the arm of Morgan’s chair. Then Peter stood behind me, playing with my hair absentmindedly. Morgan began reading as if the conversation never interrupted him.

“Is that the anti-cubital fossa?” I asked, pointing one of my fingers at the diagram.

“Yes.” He set the book down, marking his face.

He wordlessly grabbed my hand, flipping it over in his so my palm was up. He ran his fingers on my skin, and a shiver ripped through my spine. It tickled a little.

“And these right here are your radial veins. These are the ulnar veins. And right here-“ he pressed into the skin a little, palpating the vein and increasing blood flow to that area. “Is your brachial artery.” He Finished.

He looked up to meet my eyes.

“It runs all the way up into your heart.” He smiled.

“So that’s the one that carries the oxygen?” I asked.

“Correct again, yes it takes it away from your heat and distributes it to the rest of your veins.”

“Cool.” I said.

He picked up the book again. I looked back at Peter who seemed disinterested. I frowned, I suppose everyone had their bad days. But he didn’t have his spark today, and it saddened me a little.

“Where do they take blood from if somebody has no arms?” I asked, curiously.

I likes when Morgan talked about this stuff, he seemed happiest then. It was rare to see him smile, or any of them really. They were just a serious group of people.

“Then we would take from the veins in your feet.”

I scrunched my nose in disgust, causing a small gasp to leave my lips as the pain hit me. Guess the adrenaline finally wore off. Both boys pretended not to notice, thank god.

“Thay sounds most unpleasant.”

He chuckled.

“Do you get to play with people’s veins at work?”

“Play isn’t exactly the word I would use little one. But I do sometimes; yes, but most hospitals have people designated specifically for that job.”

My eyes lit up in wonder.

“Really? That’s so cool!” I said excitedly.

I moved Peter’s hand from the top of my head, and laced my left hand through his, I pulled him around to the front and made him sit on my lap. The chair arm groaned in protest. Peter looked at me confused and Morgan looked amused.

I trailed my right arm along his veins like Morgan had done to me just minutes ago. I closed my eyes, just enjoying the moment. Until my fingers hit a very active and pulsating vein. I opened my eyes again.

“Would you go here?” I asked.

Morgan looked at where my fingers lay, and moved my hand off to feel it himself.

“Excellent choice my dear.” He said.

I smiled.

“You’ve got nice viens Petey.”

If it was possible, his cheeks flushed even more. I could practically see the blood crawling to his face.

“Yeah, nobodies stealing my blood”. He said.

I chuckled lightly.

“Just be lucky you aren’t sick Peter. I remember when I was little I used to have to get my blood drawn all the time.”

Peter frowned.

“What for?” Morgan asked.

I shrugged.

“I guess I’m anaemic or something. It used to be really bad. I would pass out all the time.” I said.

“You need more iron then, perhaps you shouldn’t be eating Peter’s meals all the time.” Morgan suggested.

“Whatever you say Doc.”

Peter seemed uncomfortable with this. But I didn’t see the big deal. It was just some meat.

An: a little bit of a shorter chapter this week cause I’m stressed about work. Our new store is opening and we have the season drop coming. Holidays make my really mentally I’ll, and I don’t like change. So if my posts seem hectic the next week or so, that’s why. Disaster dinner party will be next chapter, gotta leave y’all on a cliff hanger 😈

#Hannibal family #newt #slahser oc #Newt Lecter #new character #Peter Hannibal #Kevin Hannibal #Hannibal nbc #Morgan Hannibal

[weirdgirlcroix]

Escapril Day 26: Night Out

I wrote this one in like, 2 days. Most of the stuff I write is about the same few ocs, but I haven't felt like coming up with a new character, so I tried to compromise and challenge myself by keeping the identities of the characters in this story ambiguous. They're based off a couple of my ocs, but I think it would be easy enough for me to turn them into new characters entirely if I wanted. Content warning for a bit of blood.

I think people misunderstand what it’s like to work a night shift. It’s not lonely because I’m good at keeping myself company. It’s not too tiring because contrary to what the movies say, cat burglars aren’t attempting to rob this museum every other week — besides, I can make up for these sleepless nights by sleeping during the day. Most importantly, it isn’t boring. When I’m done making my rounds around the building, I can sit in my office and speed through crosswords and word searches. And if those get boring, I can count on the creature to keep me company.

 I don’t really have a name for it. It just slid under my office door one day and plopped down on my desk. I was scared at first: I wasn’t expecting a black, formless blob that somehow had a full set of canines to show up out of nowhere. I considered shooting it, but I realized that would get too messy, so I tried whacking it with my baton instead. The baton passed straight through the creature like it was a ghost, and it screeched at me, exposing the tips of its sharp pearly whites. I took a few steps back and cowered, expecting it to lunge at me, but it closed its mouth and flattened out a bit, like it was settling down for a nap. I got the impression that it was like a cat. A mysterious, dangerous cat.

 If violence wasn’t the answer, maybe I’d have to use words instead. From my safe space in the corner of the office, I begged the creature to kindly get up and go back to where it came from, because I had a life to live and a job to do. The creature ignored me and flattened out even more. I inched towards a nearby cabinet, took out a pair of latex gloves, and slid them on. If the creature didn’t want to attack me, I could probably get away with moving it. I carefully wrapped my hands around the creature and picked it up. It stretched out between my fingers like melting silly putty, but I managed not to drop it. I tip-toed towards the door, pushed it open with my foot, then tossed the creature out and shut the door behind me. I heard a muted, aggravated screech, but it didn’t crawl back in. I didn’t want to risk getting my hand bit off — or worse — so I kept the door shut and watched the creature from the monitors in my office. There were two security cameras trained on my door. The creature rolled up to the door and leaned against it, but it didn’t try to get in. I figured it finally got the message.

The next few nights were a repeat of the first. The creature crawled onto my desk, I kicked it out, and it sat outside my door like a puppy waiting for its owner to come home. On the fifth day, I got tired of the routine. I wondered if the creature was actually a threat, given how it hadn’t tried to attack me all. This time, I ripped off a small piece of sliced roast beef from the sandwich I’d packed and dangled it over the creature. It hopped and snatched the meat from my fingers, gulping it down in one bite. It sunk in that now that I’d fed it, there was no way it would leave me alone. But the tiny voice in my head that was worried about getting hurt was drowned out by my curiosity. I fed it another piece of meat, then another, and eventually half of my sandwich. 

The creature purred and leaned towards me like it was expecting to be petted. Maybe I was feeding the ghost of a dead cat. I wasn’t ready to touch it with my bare hands, so I put on a latex glove and hesitantly ran my hand across its back. It was impossibly smooth and devoid of curves or bumps, a seemingly infinite sheet of onyx. What was this thing even made of? Was it a ghost that the archaeologists had accidentally dug up and dumped in the museum? Or was it a figment of my imagination, a hallucination my brain cooked up so I wouldn’t feel as lonely?

A week later, the creature proved it was real. Around 3:00 AM, long after the last janitors had gone home for the night, a single burglar broke into the museum, hoping to steal a priceless artifact or two and get rich. I spotted him from the monitors in my office and rose up to catch him, but the creature was much faster than me. It squeezed through the gap between the door and the floor and bolted towards the rocks and minerals exhibit, frictionlessly sliding across the ground. Too stunned to react and feeling a little outclassed, I watched from the monitors as it jumped and sunk its teeth into the burglar’s arm. Blood dripped onto the floor and the man shrieked in pain and confusion. He managed to rip the creature off of his arm and ran away as quickly as he could; he figured that dealing with that thing wasn’t worth it, and I agreed.

Maybe I’m wrong for this, but I didn’t feel too bad for him. I’d scored myself a ghastly guard dog, an otherworldly pet that was nice enough to help me with my job and strong enough to do it well. What kind of security guard wouldn’t want a pet like that? I hurriedly went to a storage closet, took out some cleaning supplies, and cleaned up the blood so no one would raise any questions in the morning. If the creature had a spine it would be straightened in self-confidence, and I petted it as a reward for its effort. 

The creature and I are friends now. I hold it with my bare hands and give it bacon every Sunday. I’ve even been considering giving it a name, since saying “the creature” is starting to get boring. I’ve considered the possibility that it is a malevolent ghost and it’s been playing the long game, making me lower my guard so it can strike me down when I’m at my most vulnerable. But in the meantime, I don’t care. I love having the funny thing around, and it loves being with me.

#ken's shit #escapril 2022 #escpril #writing #writeblr #rename

[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

[charliecoxisdaredevil]

Secrets, Secrets Are No Fun (Chapter 1)

Matthew Murdock x Reader [✨Series] 18+

(minors do not interact w/ explicitly sexual chapters. But if you do, remember fanfic is a safe but fictional space. Always put your safety first in real life, use protection and communicate. It's my goal to always emulate safe and healthy sexual encounters in my writings.)

Series Themes: fluff, enemies to lovers (very flirty enemies), found family trope, age gap *but not craazy ya know?*, smuuuuty smut smut, angst, canonical injuries (realistic, but nothing graphically described), NWH SPOILERS!!

Chapter Themes: best friend!peter vibes, peter gets to be happy because i said so, cocky mf matt murdock, ?alcohol?, ?Italians?, flirty mf matt murdock, sexual themes (no smut)

Description: Murdock & Nelson were looking for a PA, and you were so sure it would be the best job in the world that you practically begged your best friend Peter to put in a good word for you... Until you realized pleasing the Devil would be hard work.

Excerpt: "Being friends with Peter Parker has its own special quirks. Its' ups and downs. Its' Star Wars marathons and near death experiences. I love Peter and I wouldn’t trade our friendship for anything. Even after all the peril and drama and stupidity of being best friends with a 25 year old boy, nothing has ever made me lose love for our friendship…

But if Matthew Murdock throws one more goddamn file on my desk right at 6pm, before waltzing out of the office; Peter is a dead man."

Chapter 1:

Peter Parker is a dead man.

He’s the one who got me this job. The one who sent me to this hell.

Did I beg for him to get me this job? Okay, yes yes- BUT as my friend he should’ve known that this fucker was going to drive me crazy. Where is that goddamn “spidey-sense” when you actually need it?

And I ask Peter exactly that when I’m across the table from him, sipping on a strong drink after working away three hours of my life for free.

“Well that’s a thing right there you should bring up,” Peter points his beer in my direction across the table.

I pin him with a deserved incredulous look, “What thing?!”

He anxiously hunches over the table and makes twitchy movements with his hands as he tries to articulate a defense, even though we both know this really isn’t his fault.

It’s that fucker Murdock’s.

“The- the working overtime for free thing! You should talk to him and Mr. Nelson about at least getting some kind of compensation. Or- or you know I could talk to them for you! I mean it’s only fair since I got you into this whole mess.”

Poor Peter looks at me with guilty eyes and a very wrinkled forehead, so I reign in my urge to unjustly take my anger out on one of my only friends who did an incredibly big favor for me.

It was my idea to explore non-vigilante career options and it was my suggestion that working for the least corrupt legal group in town would not only keep me fed and give me skills other than crime fighting. Working for attorneys is a great way to keep your finger on the pulse of crime.

I smile kindly and put a hand over Peter’s reassuringly, “I’m sorry Pete, this isn’t your fault. You didn’t get me into anything. You did me a huge favor, and you shouldn’t have to solve my problems for me.”

He squeezes my hand in understanding, “Yeah I know… I just can’t help it sometimes. You’re like a sister to me, and I mean I owe so much to Mr. Murdock but- but I mean I can’t believe the type of crap he’s putting you through! He’s always been such a nice guy!”

And I can’t even be mad with Peter’s disbelief that Matthew Murdock could be anything but a godsend. The man saved Peter and Happy from twenty five to life in a federal prison, he’s locked up some of the most despicable people to ever have the audacity to roam the Earth and he does it for next to nothing.

Hell, I thought the man was an angel after everything I’d heard. It’s when we met that I finally saw him for the devil he was.

We sit in contemplative silence for a while, Peter’s still in disbelief while I stew in my annoyance.

“Well, if anything you should tell them to at least wait around for you if they’re gonna make you stay till after dark. It’s not safe for you to be walking home alone so late at night,” Peter looks me over with a paternally furrowed brow and a shake of his head as he takes another swig of his beer.

This pulls an amused smirk and a breathy laugh out of me, “Pete… I think Spider-Girl can handle walking ten blocks by herself. And if she can’t, maybe she should look into a different profession.”

Peter frenetically looks around the bar, like someone in this dive is able to hear me over Måneskin blasting through the ratty speakers or is even slightly interested in a conversation between two worn out, poor but professional looking 20 somethings.

“Would you please take the secret identity thing more seriously,” he manically whispers at me.

I take a long sip of my gin and tonic, “How am I not taking it seriously? C’mon Peter no one can hear us because the music is slowly turning everyone deaf, and I haven’t told anyone else but you!”

“First off, you didn’t tell me. I found out because you thought it was low-key to crawl up the basement walls when the laundry room flooded,” I roll my eyes in annoyance, once again, because he will never let that story go.

“And second, I’m just saying you need to be more careful. This… identity doesn’t affect just you. It affects everyone you love-”

I cut him off to bitterly say, “Well ya know Pete that’s not a very long list, and I’m not too worried about the one person on it because he can also climb walls.”

We sit in silence by my doing for the second time tonight, but this time I don’t budge and stubbornly stare back at him.

Peter’s eyes soften and he’s the first to break the silence this time, “All I’m saying… is that one of these days the wrong person will hear you and it’s going to screw up your life. Forever.”

That look of past tragedy in his eyes makes me drop mine to my fidgeting hands cradled in my lap.

“Believe me. I know.”

I look back up at him in shame from being so insensitive, “I’m sorry Peter… I’ll be more careful. I promise.”

We share a look of truce, “It’s okay… Look. On the bright side, if everything had never happened to me I wouldn't have found you! And I got MJ back,” he smiles and blushes at the thought of her, “and Ned back and everything worked out for me in the end.”

He tiredly sighs, “I just- I just don’t want you to have to work anything out.”

Nodding my head in appreciation and agreement, I take my glass and clink it lightly against his, “Good speech Dad. Aren’t I great practice for when you and MJ have wonderful, mischievous spider-babies?”

Peter spits up some of his beer, “Alright. You’re done. You’re done.”

We both break out in laughs, “God, I’m so sorry for being such a pain tonight. Tomorrow morning I promise I’m gonna go straight to Foggy and Karen and… ugh, Murdock and demand my very much earned overtime.”

A proud smile stretches across Peter’s face and he reaches across the table to clink our glasses again, “Now that I’ll cheers to!”

“Why do the spider-babies not deserve cheers?”

“Oh my god, ENOUGH with the spider-babies!”

~ ~ ~

Waking up in my cramped, frigid apartment the next morning, I have renewed purpose.

I’m not going to let Murdock push me around any longer. I’m going to walk in there, march right up to Foggy and demand fair treatment. He’s a logical and just boss, I’m sure he’ll see my side no problem…

But, if I’ve learned anything from Foggy, bribery with free coffee and pastries to warm the palette is never a bad move.

It’s freezing out today, so I shimmy into my favorite wool pencil skirt. And while squeezing into my nicest turtleneck, I’m reminded of the aching bruise I earned during last night's crime fighting session that takes up most of the real estate on the right side of my back.

What a great reminder to look where I’m swinging next time in case the city decides to plant another new lamp post.

After lots of wincing and groaning, I have successfully dressed myself for the day. I throw on a coat, grab my bag and bumble out of the raggedy apartment building towards my second home, Anton’s Coffee Shop on the corner of 10th Ave and West 42nd Street.

Anton’s is this teeny coffee “shop” that’s more like a broom closet, but it’s the best espresso you can get in fifty blocks and the owner, Tony, always treats me to a free biscotti. Being within a reasonable walking distance to this place is one of the only benefits of moving into Hell's Kitchen when Peter officially moved in with MJ last month.

“Stellina! Come sta?!,” Tony is furiously wiping down the countertop but his sweet face pops up to greet me.

Tony’s a tall, thin man with dark tanned skin, sparkling green eyes and a wonderfully white beard. He’s one of the longest friendships I’ve ever had, and he is absolutely insane.

I take my gloves off and root around in my bag for my wallet, “Morning Tony! I’m good, how’re you?”

But he merely tsk’s me, “Stellina! In Italiano! Per favore!” Tony starts to make my usual coffee order while accosting me.

“Spiacente, spiacente umm… Buongiorno Tony,” he looks up and eagerly nods in encouragement, “Io sono buono e… come sta?”

Tony’s recently started teaching me Italian because I wanted to learn and also because he wants to set me up with a “friend’s son’s cousin’s step-brother.”

He smiles and finishes making my oat milk latte, which he relentlessly bullies me for because “This is not latte?! This is water?!”, but he continues to make the drink for me every morning regardless.

“Very good Stellina! I will make an Italiana out of you someday, eh?” He pops two biscotti in a paper bag and hands me my coffee.

I take the goodies gladly, “Someday, Tony. Now I’ll need three more coffees today if you can, per favore, make another one of my regulars, two double shot lattes and throw in a few more biscotti.”

He gasps comically at me while he gathers more cups, “Dio! Has my stellina made friends?”

I laugh at his dramatics, “No, no these are for my bosses. I need to bribe two of them with your magic caffè so they’ll convince the other to stop being such an ass.”

Tony nods in understanding as he flits around behind the espresso machine, pulling levers like a madman, “Ah and the third coffee,” he holds up a cup and points to it, “this is for the ass?”

“Yeah unfortunately I can’t leave him out. It’ll just give him another reason to make my life, come si dice… hell?”

He’s frothing the milk for Matt’s drink, “Inferno.”

“Inferno,” I say matter of factly as he rings me up and I place the coffees in a cardboard tray.

Tony hums, “Well, nipote, if anyone is making your life un Inferno then they will be hearing from me.” He hands me my change along with my extra biscottis and I smile gratefully at his conviction.

“Thank you Tony,” I tuck the change into his tip jar, “Next time I’ll let you spit in his coffee.”

~ ~ ~

By the time I get to the office I’m still five minutes early, and I’m hoping Murdock has pulled his usual arrogant stunt of strolling in late so I can plead my case to Foggy and Karen alone first.

Before going inside I stand in front of the frosted door, giving myself a firm pep talk. You deserve this. You deserve respect. You’re going to wipe that unfortunately handsome smirk right off of Murdock’s face.

Balancing the tray in one hand I open the door with the other and the smile is wiped right off of my face as I see Matthew lounging front and center. He’s leaned back onto Karen’s desk in his usual well tailored suit that stretches over his broad thighs, and If I didn’t know any better I’d say he was staring right at me with that stupid fucking smirk, like he knew I was about to walk in.

But thankfully he can’t because someone drawing up fate’s design knew this man would cause too much trouble if he had all his senses.

“Ah the chosen one! She brings us sustenance,” Foggy emerges from the kitchenette to my right and rubs his hands together, “What’d we do to deserve such free tastiness?”

I pop one of the double shots out of the container and hand him the biscotti bag. “Well… I just,” I see Murdock is still phantomly staring through me, still wearing that godforsaken smirk and my conviction crumbles.

“I just thought… it would be a nice pick me up on such a cold day.”

Foggy hmm’s and nods his head as he devours Tony’s legendary almond biscotti and takes the rest of the bag into his office.

As he leaves Karen flies out of the conference room and into the waiting area, “Ooh not shit coffee, thank god!” I pull the other double shot out of my container before handing it over to her, “There’s also some almond biscotti, but you might want to get in there before Foggy inhales them.”

She gasps and scurries into Foggy's office all the while shouting that he’d better save some for her or he’ll have to start killing the spiders in his office himself.

And just like that, suddenly I’m alone. With the asshole.

“So,” here we go, “I see you take after Foggy with the subtle bribery approach,” Matt shoots over his shoulder as he walks through the doorway into his office before settling into his desk chair.

And just like that, I am in Inferno.

I choose to ignore his comment and walk towards the arrogant son of a bitch. I go around to set the third coffee on the desk next to his hand, “Here’s your coffee. It’s a double shot oat milk latte.” He furrows his brow in confusion since he’s never made me be a lackey for his coffee and therefore, has never told me his preference for oat milk. It’s one of the few pieces of my dignity I have left.

“I saw you added an oat milk carton to the fridge,” which is not entirely untrue, but I can’t tell him the real source of my information. That I saw him buy said oat milk at the same bodega Spider-Girl had promised the owner, Señor Flores, she'd watch over while his teenage nephew worked the night shift.

Matthew tilts his head up and a gust of heat from the air vents consumes me in his fresh scent before his hand suddenly yet tenderly grips my wrist. He’s smiling up at me, it almost seems genuine. Grateful.

The thing that makes this man all the more infuriating is how fucking handsome he is.

It’s despicable.

“Don’t I get a cookie too?,” he smiles up at me as his thumb brushes against the inside of my wrist.

My heartbeat picks up and I want to say I’m glad he can’t see the instant flush of my cheeks at his touch, but his smile still seems to grow deeper.

I try to regain my composure and take back control, “That depends. Do you think you’ve earned a cookie?”

He chuckles darkly and leans in, grasping my wrist a bit tighter, “What? Don’t you think I’ve been a good boy?”

Well, if he didn’t know my heart was racing before he can definitely feel it flying off the handle now with his firm grip on my pulse.

My mouth goes dry but my lips are wet, and my present arousal is eerily followed by a subtle flare in Matt’s nostrils and a stuttered rise of his chest. His mouth parts and his tongue interrupts heavy breaths by darting out to wet his flushed lips.

“Matty, stop torturing the office angel and come help me with these opening remarks please!”

Foggy’s distant call from behind his closed office door snaps both of us back to reality and I begin to lean away from him, but Matt still doesn’t release my wrist.

He simply waits, and I finally give in as I wrap one of my biscotti in a napkin and place it on his desk.

“Thank you,” he smiles up at me again but doesn’t move for the biscotti. “It smells so good,” but still doesn’t release me, “I know it tastes even better.”

My eyes widen in disbelief and I lightly gasp at what I think I’m hearing or possibly imagining, but Foggy covers the involuntary sound with another yell for Matt’s assistance.

Matt turns his head towards the door and shouts back, “Coming,” before turning back to face me, “Would you be an angel and transcribe these affidavits for me?”

I stare back at him pulling myself together. But before I can respond he purses his lips, like the most perfect red rose, and rumbles out a husked, “Please?”

My mouth gapes a bit as I try to blink myself back to reality, I nod dumbly before shaking my head like an idiot, “Um, yes! Sorry, yes.”

He releases me finally, and I’m grateful to be able to breathe again. Then he hands me a stack of papers, plucks the coffee from its spot and struts towards Foggy’s office.

Did he just call me an angel? No sorry, was he flirt- No, no way… no way…

I look down at the uneaten biscotti, then back up at Matt’s retreating figure.

No, I’m sorry, did Matthew Motherfucker Murdock just say “please”? To me?

- - -

Let me know if y'all want to be ?tagged? in this series for updates I guess?? I've never uploaded works to tumblr before, so please give me grace. this is a learning experience.

#nwh spoilers #matt murdock x reader #best friend!peter parker #matt murdock #matthew murdock x reader #peter parker #no way home spoilers #peter parker x mj

[phantasmiafxndom]

Soldier au with heartslabyul and diasomnia. The boys previous master was cruel and loved to randomly beat and and do other "things" to them. Then the master either dies or something else happens to them and the boys get a new master. The new one is very kind and caring and basicaly treats the boys as their kids. The master is very soft and always makes sure that the boys are fed and well taken care of

That’s too many character at once, I’m afraid. >w> I’ll do Heartslabyul for now, but feel free to resend for Diasomnia! 

. . . 

Riddle

He’s very, very torn. At the same time that Riddle is desperately starved for positive attention, he also doesn’t do so well with a direct superior who actively goes against what he’s been taught to believe are the “rules”. The way his last handler treated him is what he thinks is correct, so this new, entirely different behavior registers as you being much too soft on him or simply ignoring regulations altogether. Riddle can’t help but soak up the kindness to some degree, but he’s bound to snap eventually and demand to know why you’re not doing things right. 

Ace

He’s the type to actually lash out at you for treating him so sweetly. After everything he’s been through with his last handler, Ace is in no hurry to trust anyone else— especially someone who’s suddenly claiming to be such a kind person. He’s short-tempered, snappy, and tests his limits constantly, wanting to find out exactly when you’ll crack and beat him like anyone else would. Ace is convinced that you’re just like the last one, simply hiding your cruel side better, so he won’t accept anything you’re offering... no matter how badly needy parts of him want to. 

Deuce

He has trouble trusting it, but really, really wants to believe that things could get better. After a superior who was so viciously cruel, one who treats him so kindly feels like some kind of dream. Deuce doesn’t know if he should trust what you say and accept it or take the “safe” route and maintain the distance he’s been trained to have. He gets nervous around you because he doesn’t know how to act or what to say. You ask for one thing, but everyone else wants something different, and he doesn’t know who to believe. But... even so, you’re really, really nice. 

Trey

He’s rational enough to take the kindness at face value (you seem to be genuine enough, after all), but he’s also not expecting it to last for very long. The way Trey sees it, you’re trying something out— and are bound to return to the “normal” he’s used to sooner or later. He’s not the type to reject your kindness just because he believes it’s temporary, but Trey definitely isn’t placing any faith in the way you treat him now lasting for any significant amount of time. He’ll just take advantage of this brief time he has to rest from the cruelty and stress of before. 

Cater

It’s hard to know what to think of such a sudden change. On one hand, Cater is very, very grateful for the break in suffering and constant stress, but the way you treat him makes him nervous too. Part of him wants to just sink into the kindness and hope for a break, but he also knows he shouldn’t just give in like that. He’s been trained to know better! For the most part, Cater tries to keep an emotional distance from you. Even though he’ll smile and outwardly accept your kindness, internally, he’s not letting himself believe that it’ll be serious or last for long. 

#Twisted Wonderland #TWST #Riddle #Riddle Rosehearts #Ace #Ace Trappola #Deuce #Deuce Spade #Trey #Trey Clover #Cater #Cater Diamond #Headcanon #Reader #TWST Soldier Au

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Flirt

For @artemis1orion Who requested Can I request a James Potter x reader where they’re kinda enemies since the reader was on slytherin. But whenever the reader gets a chance, she/they jokingly flirt with the marauders except james cuz she can’t actually flirt w ppl they actually like. Till like one day, James confronted the reader abt it cuz he also likes her? 

James Potter x Reader

You wolf whistled from across the great hall, causing a plethora of heads to turn your way, including the boys whom attention you wanted. Your eyes met with Potter’s first and you grinned devilishly at him as he glared. The next boy you looked at was Remus, he was no fun though, he never flirted back with you, then Peter, sure flirting with him was a laugh, but not exactly what you were looking for at the moment. Finally, they landed on Black and you grinned wider, blowing a kiss across the room which he jokingly caught and tossed over his shoulder.

“What do you want Y/L/N?” He called out to you. Most students went back to their eating, but some kept their eyes on you, curious about the encounter.

“Nothing, you’re looking fit!” You yelled back, causing your friend next to you to groan in frustration.

“Y/N, leave it.” They demanded but you were just getting started. Black made a face before grinning, winking at you as he took a seat at the Gryffindor table with his mates. Potter simply continued to glare at you. Tosser. Cute tosser, your brain corrected, and hell, you couldn’t argue with that logic. 

“You look pretty fit too, for a slimy snake!” You grinned cheekily at him wiggling your eyebrows suggestively. 

“Come over here, Black, I’ll show you just how slimy I can be!” He laughed at that shaking his head and giving you a choice finger which you returned happily. You dropped it, letting the boys eat as you went back to your own meal. 

“I don’t know why you do that.” Your friend muttered, “They’re Gryffndors, it’s gross.” You grinned and shrugged. 

“It’s fun! And they’re cute, what harm can it do.” Your friend shook their head and went back to their meal, choosing to just ignore you, but that didn’t dampen your mood. 

  A few days later you were leaving potions and nearly bumped into Remus’s back when he suddenly stopped walking. 

“As much as I’d like to bang you, I mean bang into you, I’d also love it if you kept walking.” You commented, Lupin looked over his shoulder at you and flushed before turning and shoving James through the classroom doorway.

“Go!” He demanded, Potter looked over his shoulder at Remus with a grin, and then past Remus at you and his smile immediately dropped, replacing it with a glare. 

“Come on sweetcheeks,” You gave Remus a toothy grin, “Get that cute butt moving,” His blush only deepened, pleading with James with his eyes to get out of the bloody way. Potter moved and Remus jumped out of your way, you reached up and patted his cheek as you went.

“Such a sweetie you are, Third floor broom cupboard later, see you there.”

“No you won’t!” He managed to squeak out, but you merely laughed, sauntering off down the corridor. 

“Want me to hex them?” You heard Potter ask, so you shot him a glare over your shoulder as you walked.

“I’d like to see you try!” James grumbled angrily to himself and Remus rolled his eyes. 

“Come on mate, it’s not biggie. You know they’re just taking the piss.” Remus assured him, but James wasn’t pacified. 

“They’re a bitch.” He stated, arms crossing over his chest, and Remus looked at him knowingly. 

“Why don’t they ever flirt with you mate, they do it with everyone else.” Sirius asked, tossing an arm around his friends shoulder as they walked down the corridor in the opposite direction of you. 

“I don’t know, but I’m glad they don’t.” He muttered and Sirius and Remus shared a look over their friend's heads, Sirius raising a single eyebrow. 

  “Petey,” You smiled sweetly at the boy, leaning on his desk as he sat next to James in potions, “Could I borrow a quill please?” You made puppy dog eyes at the boy and smiled sweetly, watching happily as he turned beat red. 

“I don’t-” He cut himself off and you leaned further onto his desk, ignoring James’ glares. Peter searched through his bag before looking at you with wide eyes, not used to anyone openly flirting with him how you did. 

“I don’t have an extra,” He admitted and you shrugged, plucking the one from his hands, twirling it between your fingers.

“I’ll just take this one then, love.” He went even redder and nodded his head vigorously.

“Okay!” He squeaked out.

“Y/N, give him back his quill.” Potter demanded, and you laughed. 

“Nope.” You responded, popping your ‘p’. James stood up attempting to snatch the quill from your hand but you danced away from him with a wide smile.

“James it’s fine,” Peter tried to interrupt, but Potter was fed up. Finally, you had been trying to get him to this point for months now. 

“Do something about it, Prongs,” You spat the nickname you often heard his friends using at him like it was a vile insult. He flushed, lurching at you, grabbing your wrist and holding it as he snatched the quill from your hands, handing it back to Peter.

“Now kindly,” He glared at you, “Piss off!” You laughed and rolled your eyes before turning to the table behind them where Remus and Sirius watched the exchange with amused expressions. 

“Boys,” You winked at them, blowing a kiss. 

“Y/N,” They replied. 

“Go away!” Potter shouted, causing a few Gryffindors to snicker, but that didn’t bother you, so you went back to your own desk, sitting down and pulling out a quill to Potter’s horror. He wanted to rip your head off. 

A few weeks later, you sat alone in the library working on an assignment for charms, head resting in one of your hands while the other one twirled your quill. You stared at your parchment, wondering if you concentrated hard enough if the essay would write itself. However, so far, you had little luck. 

Suddenly someone plopped down in front of you and you glanced up, surprised to see James Potter sitting in the previously empty seat. You raised an eyebrow, looking around.

“Where are your goons?” You asked and he went from looking mildly uncomfortable to glaring at you.

“They’re not my goons.” You shrugged, looking back down at your parchment again, feeling your cheeks heating up slightly. 

“Whatever you say,” You murmured, sticking the end of your quill into your mouth as you tried to concentrate. Potter didn’t move, so you looked up at him again, “Yes?” You asked, Potter looked as uncomfortable as you felt, shifting awkwardly in his chair, glancing around like he was worried someone might spot him talking to you.

“Do you like Sirius?” He asked suddenly and you scoffed, taking your head.

“No?”

“What about Remus?” You looked at him, blinking a few times before shaking your head. Where was he going with this?

“No,” James nodded his head, playing with his hands that were resting on the table. 

“Peter?” He continued and you barked out a loud laugh, earning a glare from a few Ravenclaws sitting a few tables away. Potter shushed you and you flushed slightly, grinning as you shook your head.

“Definitely not.” You assured, rolling your eyes. “Why the interrogation?” You asked and he shrugged his shoulders looking away from you. When he finally looked back you were still staring at him and he flushed slightly, balling his fists up.

“So why do you flirt with them?” He asked, “And not-” He cut himself off, unclenching his fists and laying his hands flat on the table, “Why?” You considered the question with rosy cheeks. 

“I dunno, Potter, it’s fun?” You offered as an answer but it came out as a question. 

“It’s not fun to flirt with me?” 

“Why do you care? You hate me.” 

“I do not.” You looked at him funny.

“Coulda fooled me.” You stated and he looked down at his hands. You were quiet for a moment, waiting for him to get up and leave. But he didn’t. “Why do you care?” You repeated, James looked at you and shrugged his shoulders. 

“I don’t.”

“Okay.” 

“Okay,” He repeated.

“Fine.” 

“Fine,” He was getting annoyed and you smirked slightly, causing him to let out a small laugh. 

“You’re infuriating.” He decided and your smirk turned into a wide grin.

“Thanks, love.” The word fell out of your mouth before you could think better of it and you both blushed furiously. 

“Do you like me?” He asked suddenly and you dropped your quill in shock.

“What?” James held your gaze but you could tell he wanted to look away.

“I said, do you like me?” He puffed his chest out slightly and ran a hand through his messy black curls. You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to lie or not. 

“I don’t... not like you.” You offered. He nodded his head, tongue poking out to lick over his lips, and you watched the movement, afraid if you moved the moment would be broken and he would be gone. 

“Right. Right. Well, I don’t, erm, not like you either.” He responded and you looked at him with wide eyes. 

“Right.” 

“Right.” 

“So...” 

“So?” He repeated, as you both sat there, cheeks red. 

“What... What now?” You asked and James shrugged slightly, looking helpless. He ran his fingers through his hair again and you wanted to reach out and touch his soft curls. 

“Do you want to go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?” The question came out rushed and all at once. It took you a minute to process it, and for a moment he thought you weren’t going to answer before finally you nodded your head. 

“Alright.” James’ face broke into a grin and he nodded his head, standing up from the table. 

“Brilliant. I will see you then.” 

“We have class together tomorrow.” 

“Right,” He nodded, standing in front of you, “Then I’ll see you then.” He waved and turned to walk away before stopping and coming back to you, you raised an eyebrow when he pointed a finger at you, eyes shining slightly in a way he had never looked at you before. “Stop flirting with my mates.” He stated and you smirked, laughing. 

“Alright, deal.” 

“Good, see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

“See ya James.”

#Harry Potter #James Potter #James Potter x reader #james potter x yn #james potter x you #request

[unkownknowledge]

This post is a sort of collaboration with @golden-wingseos who is kindly letting me use their toxic traits post as a base for writing some Fluff! Check 'em out! Hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Albedo might be a OOC. This is my first attempt at more serious writing. And of course you should always remember that problems in a relationship might need more than a short talk.

Edit: request are open, if anyone reading this likes it feel free to request. Rules are pinned.

Now onto my post:

_____________________

Albedo: your heart is real

_____________________________

-you knew Albedo's secret, you knew his feelings, you knew enough to know he didn't want to love you.

-yet he did.

-you also believed he shouldn't be chained to someone else's wishes, especially when it wouldn't bring him happiness.

You were sitting in Albedo's lap, your head on his shoulder as you gently played with his hair.

"I'm going to destroy monstadt you know," he said, like he always does in an attempt to push you away, "that includes the people"

"Then I'll just stop you." You reply calmly.

"Then I'll have to kill you."

"So then you won't destroy monstadt."

Albedo was confused, you usually told him you would stop him but you've never said he wouldn't do it to begin with.

Albedo grabbed your shoulders and made you look at him, "what does that mean? Why wouldn't I destroy monstadt?"

"Because you would have to kill me." You said smiling.

'That damn smile' he thought, "why would I not destroy monstadt, not fulfill my master's wish, just because you would need to die?"

"Because you love me."

Albedo pushed you off and got on top of you, holding a knife to your throat, "would someone who loved you so this?"

"Yes" you never stopped smiling at him.

"Exa-wait what?" Albedo was dumbfounded, not comprehending what you meant.

"You're trying to push me away," you grabbed his shaking hands and pushed them down, causing him to release the knife, "because you don't want to feel any remorse, because you don't want to hurt me."

"Who says-"

"And I know you don't want to destroy monstadt," you grabbed his head and brought him closer, "because you love it there."

"I'm not real, I'm just a tool my master made to carry out their dreams. Stop treating me like a person."

"But you are a person, and as a person you can choose what you want."

"Well I want monstadt destroyed!"

"Even if that meant killing me?"

Albedo was shocked, he never felt conflicted before. Not in following his master's wishes, but now? At your words? He doubted every desire he's had.

You placed his hand on his heart, "feel that?"

"That's my heart..."

"So your heart is real. Now tell me, what does a tool need with a heart?"

Albedo didn't answer.

"Your master might want to destroy monstadt, but who says they want you to? Why give a weapon a heart?"

You didn't give Albedo time to respond before you kissed him.

"Your heart is real. Just like your love for me."

Albedo sat up and pulled you back into his lap, "you're an anomaly you know that? No one else can make me feel this way." He looked into your eyes and put his hands on your cheeks, "I guess I can hold off on destroying monstadt, atleast until I conclude my research on you."

"Well, let's start experimenting."

_____________________________

Hope that didn't suck.

_____________________________

Diluc: you'll get hurt if you love me

_____________________________

-Diluc has been avoiding you for a month now, he hasn't even gone out to do his darkknight hero duties.

-he's just locked himself away in his manor, ordering his servants to not let you in.

-Diluc, however, forgets that you met because you tried stealing from his house.

You were fed up with Diluc, he kept pushing you away and now he has CROSSED THE LINE! You're going to break into his room and make him explain why he's been avoiding you, it's been a year since you and him went on a date and now this? Something is seriously wrong.

You climbed up to the window sill and lock picked your way in, you walked over to Diluc's bed and sat down, waiting for him to return.

Diluc entered the door and, without looking, fell on his bed right next to you.

"You look tired, almost like you took the long way home just to avoid the route I take."

Diluc shot up and looked at you in shock.

You crossed you arms over your chest, "I want an explanation."

"(Y/n) what do you m-"

"You know full well! And don't call me (y/n)! You always call me 'dearest' or 'honey's, in fact you do a lot of things you seem to have forgotten about, like dinners, and tea times, and DATES!"

"Please I-"

"No! No running away, no excuses!" You grabbed his shoulders and turned him to you, "why the hell are you avoiding me!?"

Diluc looked up and saw you were crying. This isn't what he wanted, this is the opposite of what he wanted!

Diluc looked away, unable to face you, "Because I want you to hate me."

Your eyes widened, "w-what?"

"I want you to leave me, in a way that won't make you sad to leave me."

"Why!?"

"BECAUSE YOU'LL GET HURT IF YOU LOVE ME!"

You jumped at him and held him close, and yourself closer, "idiot."

"What?"

"I said," you managed between sobs, "your an idiot, Diluc. I knew full well what I was doing when I fell in love with you, and I did it anyway. What-what gi-gives you the right t-to abandon me now?"

Diluc was shocked to say the least, he didn't know what to say.

"I know how dangerous being near you is, how many enemies you have, how likely I am to die, but Diluc," you look up at him with tear stained eyes, "I won't be able to live another day, not without you in it."

Diluc pulled you onto his lap and held you, enveloping as much as he could.

"(Y/n)- honey, I'm sorry," he cried in your hair, "I'm so sorry, so very very sorry. I just wanted to protect you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you got hurt because of me."

"But you did hurt me, you hurt my heart."

"I know.. but please," he tilted you head so your eyes would meet his, "let me heal it."

_____________________________

Kaeya: no more secrets

_____________________________

I wrote this perfectly but the draft didn't save. If it's bad blame my rage.

_____________________________

Another day without you.

Another day spent drinking.

Kaeya remembered that day clearly, more clearly than he wanted.

Kaeya was happily walking home to you.

He was always happy on the way home, but he was happiest when he saw your smile. Lately though you've been acting strangely, he was going to talk to you about it today.

"Honey I'm home-" he stopped, it was quiet.

You were never quiet.

He decided you were just out, so he waited.

And waited.

And wait-

"Where are you?"

Kaeya reached for his drink, but he couldn't find it.

"Eh Dilc, wers meh ferkin dernk!?"

Diluc sighed, "sober up."

Kaeya slammed his hands on the bar and grabbed Diluc by the collar, "WAH SHELD AH BEH SURBER!? WAHTS DA FEKEN PEINT IB TAY AIN ERE WID MEH!?"

Kaeya fell backwards and cried, "wad tay lev meh Dilc?"

Diluc sighed and walked around the bar to his brother, "sober up," he picked Kaeya up, "and I'll tell you."

Diluc carried Kaeya to the winery.

Next day

Kaeya woke up with a scream, "(Y/N) WAIT!"

He looked around and saw he was in an unfamiliar bedroom.

Diluc walked in with water and breakfast, "are you sober?"

Kaeya held his head, "I wish I wasn't."

"Well you'll want to be," Diluc set his brother's breakfast down on the nightstand, "I'm going to tell you how to get (y/n) back."

Kaeya jumped at his brother, knocking them both to the ground as he held the red head's throat, "WHERE ARE THEY?!"

Diluc calmly pushed Kaeya off, who was weak as hell right now, "calm down, you need you to understand why they left or they'll just leave you again."

Kaeya just laid there.

"Good. Now listen because this is something it took me a long time to realize too: communication is key to a relationship."

"What?"

"Did you ever tell (y/n) anything about your work? About your dealings in the dark? About your 'off the clock projects'?"

Kaeay didn't speak.

"I thought so. Kaeya you need to talk to them about your life, if you don't you'll just drive them away."

"BUT I ALREADY DID!" Kaeya shouted as he slammed his fist on the ground.

"True, but I can bring you to them. But you have to swear you'll tell them EVERYTHING."

Kaeya nodded.

Diluc and Kaeya took a trip to Liyue, to a remote village you were living in.

"They're in here. Remember Kaeya, no secrets."

You opened the door at Kaeya's knocking, before immediate closing it.

"Go away Kaeya."

"(Y/n) please, I want to make amends."

"How? Batting your eyelashes? A kiss on the cheek? Sex? Well? What have you come up with as a substitute to trust this time?"

"No. No substitute, no lies, none of that. I'm here to tell you the truth (y/n)."

You opened the door, "no more secrets?"

"No, darling, no more secrets."

_____________________________

Childe: you give me strength

_____________________________

Childe met you when you first joined the fatui, and from the first day he was smitten. You always strived to get better, never once did your lack if vision keep you from being powerful nor keep you from getting more powerful. You were his ideal person for him.

But you didn't feel like it.

You always worried, 'what if I lost? What if I can't get stronger? What if I'm weak?' Were constant thoughts going through your head. You knew Childe was greedy for power, how he wanted nothing but power, how he would do anything for it, and as far as you were aware he cut off anything that held him back.

Even you.

You pushed yourself to far everytime you trained, to the point you were getting weaker by how little time you took to recuperate. But you never realized nor did you let anyone know out fear for what Childe would do if he saw you being so insecure in yourself.

You realized you were getting weaker and weaker, and that scared you, scared you to the point you decided to take drastic measures.

You decided you would prove how strong you are.

With Childe

Childe sighed as he wrote yet another debt collection warrant, he was tired from the month long mission he just got back from and now he had to do this. He decided he would indulge himself and pamper you when he got home, after all nothing pleased him more than seeing your constantly stern face blush and smile as he showered you in gifts and affection. And while he wasn't exactly good at reading people in an emotional sense, even he could tell you were insecure about something so he wanted to talk to you about it, maybe even introduce you to his family.

He wad actually getting lost in happy thoughts when a collector ran in, "HARBINGER! I HAVE URGENT NEWS!"

Childe glared at him, "what is it, I was thinking about my snow flower!"

"IT'S ABOUT THEM SIR!"

Childe snapped the pen between his fingers and stoop, "what happened."

"Sir they-"

"WHAT HAPPENED!"

"SIR! (Y/N) HAS GONE OFF TO TRY AND SLAY A GEO REGISVINE!"

Childe immediately bolted over his desk and sped through the bank, out of the harbor, and across the country of Liyue at speeds lost would think belonged to Baal themself.

He got to the regisvine just in time to block an attack that would have killed you.

It took him mere seconds to completely demolish it.

Childe approached your crumpled form, you could barely move and your bones were probably all broken.

"Ch-chi-lde..." you got out before blacking out from pain.

Next day

You woke up, everything below your chin was in a caste and you felt about as bad as you looked.

"Let me through!" You heard the one voice you didn't want to hear right now.

"Sir please they have to r-"

"DID I FUCKING STUTTER!"

A doctor was flung through the door and Childe charges right at you.

'This is it,' you thought, closing your eyes, 'he's going to cast me away, like I always knew-'

Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of lips against your own, and a wet feeling against your cheeks.

You opened your eyes in time to see Childe pull away from you, "what were you thinking you idiot?"

You looked at Childe, dumbfounded.

"WHY DID YOU DO SOMETHING THAT STUPID!?"

"W-what?"

"Why did you try and kill a regisvine on your own?!"

You looked away.

"WHY (Y/N)!? WHY!?"

"Because I don't want you to leave me..."

Childe recoiled at that, what did you mean you didn't want him to leave you?

"Why in the world would I want to leave you? Your my snow flower."

"Yes but..." you didn't want to say it.

"Come on, snow flower," Childe put his fingers under your chin and gently made you meet his gaze, "you can tell me anything."

"You...you only care for power...and I could tell I was only getting weaker no matter how much I tried, I was....I was afraid....afraid you would leave me...."

"(Y/n)," Childe said lovingly, yet with obvious sadness, "please, I dont want power just for power's sake.... I'm so sorry that I seemed that way to you."

"But you always seem so...dedicated to getting power..."

"Yes, but power is simply a means to an end," Childe chuckles, "I have a family, with a lot of siblings, and I care about all of them. I do so much for them, and every bit of power: be it with more, status, or pure power they are what drives me to get it. I'll admit though that it has developed into a bit of a....addiction, I guess you could call it, to battle and by extension to getting stronger. I-I didn't realize how much I let that take over-"

"No!" You shout, "no! Don't apologize for that. That's why I love you: your drive for power, your willingness to never settle, everything you do you do for power. I don't care if it's because you like battle or you like your family, because I love it. I love you. And I don't want to hold you back, and because of that I didn't want to be so weak that you had to....dispose of me..."

Childe kneeled besides you, "(y/n). You never have to worry about holding me back. Remember what you said? Even if I do, granted in a much smaller part than I originally stated, want power to protect my family, it is also very true that I want power for nothing more than to have it. But you could never hold me back from that, in fact you give me strength, (y/n)."

You chuckled, "that's so cheesey Childe."

"Well it's true, and the only thing more true is this:" Childe leans towards you, "I. Love. You."

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin kaeya x reader #diluc x reader #albedo x reader #childe x reader #sorry it took this long #and sorry if it's bad #fanfiction #genshin imagines

[folkreid]

face time

TYPE: FLUFF

WORD COUNT: 1.2K

To: spencer💕

can i call you or are you busy

From: spencer💕

I'm just in my motel room! You can call! Remember to use correct grammar!😄😘

I laugh at his text and face time him. I just got him an iPhone about four weeks ago. He still doesn't know how to use it. I thought he should upgrade, i'm tired of not seeing my boyfriend while he's away on cases. I get really lonely without him here.

He answers and puts her phone to his ear. "Spencer, take the phone off your ear" I laugh. "What?" he asks. "Put the phone in front of your face" I tell him.

He puts the phone in front of his face and his eyes widen. "Since when can a phone do this" he inspects his screen. "Since forever babe"

"I didn't think technology was this advanced. Face time is so unnecessary!" he exclaims. He lies down on his bed. "Is it though?" I say with a hint of sarcasm. "Yes. Very." he tells me. "Oh so you don't want to see me?" I tease him knowing he's going to feel bad. "W-What no. I never said that. I-I just I love seeing you an-and I just" he sighs. "I love you and I love seeing your face I just think it's stupid and has no purpose other than seeing you of course"

I loved how nervous he was. He's like a weird hormonal teenage boy asking out a girl. It's cute. And less weird, teenage boys are so weird. Spencer is way more respectful than them that's for sure.

"I was just teasing baby, I know you love me" I put my phone on my bed stand. "Wanna see my pajamas?" I ask Spencer. He nods and I stand up showing off my cookie monster pajamas. I do a quick twirl before pulling the hood over my eyes. "I love it babe" he says. "Okay now let me see your pajamas" I tell him sitting down on my bed and moving my phone to face me.

"I'm just in a white shirt and some sweats" he tells me. "So, I still want to see"

He stands up and puts his camera on the vanity that his motel room has. He backs up and smiles at the camera. "Okay, here it is. I'm wearing the fluffy socks you bought me. One of the poodle ones and one llama" he picks up one of his feet trying to show me. He almost trips but quickly stands up straight.

I laugh a bit at his actions before speaking. "So you like the socks?" he nods frantically. He's adorable. Like a little puppy. He grabs his phone and lies back on the bed. "When are you coming back home, you've been there for so long" I pout.

He frowns when he sees me pout. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning, when I get back home I'm going to take a nap with you" he tells me.

I huge grin appears on my face. "I can't wait my love" I tell him.

He blushes and turns his face away. "Awe babe don't hide your face" I tell him, he blushes even more. Once he turns back and looks at me it's silent for a while. I feel my eyes getting heavy. "Spence can you tell me a story please" I say.

"Of course, what kind of story?" he asks smiling at me. "Any you want" I reply putting my phone by my lamp standing it up trying to get comfortable in my bed. "Okay i'll tell you the story of 'Thumbelina" he starts.

"A long time ago and far, far away an old woman was sitting in her rocking chair thinking how happy she would be if she had a child. Then, she heard a knock at the door and opened it" he starts saying quietly.

I listen to his soothing voice. Hm. This kind of has me thinking, do I want kids? Does Spencer want kids?

"A lady was standing there and she said, "If you let me in, I will grant you a wish." The old woman let the woman in firstly because she felt pity, secondly because she knew what she'd wish for...a child. After she washed the lady up and fed her, she saw that she was really beautiful." he said making a scratchy voice for the witch part. I laugh and shift.

"The lady slept soundly all night long and then right before she left, she said, "Now, about your wish. What do you want?"

The lady thought about most people's wishes to be richest in the world, most powerful person, the smartest, and the prettiest. But the old woman wished for

something the lady could not believe. She said, "I would like a child."

"What did you say?" she asked because she was astonished at what the old lady asked for. The old lady repeated what she said. "I would like a child."

The lady then placed a tiny seed in the old woman's hand and gave her instructions. " Plant this seed, water it carefully, watch over it, and give it your love. If you do all those things, then you will have a child."

So the old woman did all of those things the lady had told her to. In a week, there was a beautiful yellow flower in place of the seed. The next day, the flower bloomed. Inside the flower was a beautiful little girl who was the size of the woman's thumb so she a called her Thumbellina. She made her a little dress out of golden threads. Thumbellina slept in a walnut shell and brought the old woman joy and happiness.

But, one day when Thumbellina went down for her nap, a frog hopped through the open window and said, "You will be a perfect bride for my son," and she took Thumbellina to a lily pad and hopped off to find her son.

Thumbellina cried and some little guppies heard her and chewed the roots off the lily pad to help her escape. Thumbellina's lily pad floated away. A few hours later, she finally stopped floating. During the summer, she ate berries and drank the dew off the leaves. But then winter came and she needed shelter. A kindly mouse let her stay with it, but it said, "You'll have to marry my friend, Mole, because I cannot keep you for another winter."

The next day she went to see Mole. In one of tunnels, she found a sick bird and said, "Poor thing, I will bury it." Then she found out that it was still alive and she cared for it until was ready to fly. It flew off. That fall she nearly had to marry Mole. But then she heard a familiar tweet and an idea popped up in the bird's head.

"You can come down to the warm country," said the bird, so Thumbellina hopped on the bird's back and flew to the warm country. The people there who were like her renamed her Erin. She married a prince and she lived happily ever after.The end"

He narrated the rest of the story. "That was a lovely story Spencer, thank you" I tell him.

He smiles at me. "Any time Y/n" he whispers. "I'm gonna go to sleep goodnight I love you" I whisper. "Goodnight, I love you more"

#spencer reid fan fiction #criminal minds #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff

[rabbitttart]

Unnecessary Apologies

To R, I'm sorry I put a wall between us but I'm glad to have known you. We were so so alike, I saw and I hope you transitioned too (if you could) and you stayed away from the nasty internet people.

To A, I'm sorry I was toxic after I confessed to you I was just a child and always have been you deserved better than that, I hope you're well and your mother is treating you better.

To H, I'm sorry my silence was too much for you but I am thankful for our time. I hope dearly you and your family are okay over there, that you fled the country and left that misogynist prick friend of yours.

To P, I'm not sorry we are even. You message every year and I miss the memories we made but I'm not convinced we can be friends again and it isn't because of what we did it's who we are.

To C, thank you for the good times and lovely memories. I do not think that we have a lot of chances to be friends now, you're in practice right? Last I heard you were, christians don't look kindly on us.

To my favorite emo girl, I hope you broke up with your shitty boyfriend or he learned how to care for you. Rawr, your razor cuts were real.

To K, I hope you and your sister are well. Happy, loved, fed, you deserved and deserve better than what your mother gave you and how you were both treated. I am pretty sure I found your twitter, if so I'm mad happy for you!!

To Parker, sorry for the grief but I'm glad we were friends. Remember when I had you convinced I was marrying your new friend? You were even going to pay for it. You always were so sweet.

To V, fuck you but I'm sorry things went that way. I don't think you're a bad person but you were too rough with me, of course I was trying too hard I wanted friends AND fame. Not that you'd accept the apology.

To D, I hope you're actually okay and just off to other things. Not,,,,what I fear. I missed you, I will always cherish our memories and the time we spent together. Killing Floor isn't fun without you.

To M, thank you for putting in me in the position that I could meet so many wonderful people, grow so exponentially, and find myself so much. I don't care if I'll never be a woman to you, you're the one that dated me and settled with your wife sooo.

To my brother and Emberlily, I love you and I'm sorry we don't and haven't talked like we should esp. now that you're closer than ever before I hope I can visit. I still have a message from last week from you I haven't replied to, you'll always be my best friends.

To Ms. E, thank you for being so wonderful, I am so thankful for our times together and what we've shared. You inspire me as much a mother and as a sexy friend. Your support and encouragement is irreplaceable and I won't be surprised if you read this. Your taste is impeccable and I love you.

To my sister, you already know because I tell you every chance I get. I could write a poem of the ways you mean to me and the apologies I have for you, but I know you'd rather just talk to me about books and knitting than that. (loving)

To N&C, you will always be my family and I'm sorry I don't know what our relationship is right now, I miss you and I'm afraid to reach out in case you hate me. I love you too much to hear you don't want me in your lives any more.

To everyone I leave in silence, I am sorry and it isn't because of you or anything you did. I love you, if we had any positive times at all you can rest assure I love you in my silence not just in my words. Love isn't just what you do, it's also what you don't.

To boys, I love you I don't know why you don't want me other than as an insincere tranny. Too soft for you, I have too much blood on my teeth of my own to want yours. I will always hold out hope you'll see me truly, and love her truly.

To girls, I love you thank you for the world and supporting me and surrounding me w/ love and care. You have always protected and cared for me and wanted the world for me and I've tried to do the same and want the same for you!!! kisses

To everyone else, I hope I have made you feel yourselves and loved and at peace. That's all I've wanted for and from you, well okay that's a lie I also wanted a deep meaningful connection and back breaking mind blowing sex but!! gosh help me I love you all.

To my parents, you're complicit in my trauma and also responsible for so many good parts of me too, I love you both so much that I couldn't even convey it and you both drive me insane. I've been so scared of losing either or both of you since I was born. I still want you to see me as your daughter some day.

To no one, you are also complicit in my trauma. That's all, that's it. I do not care, save to lament.

To nature, please stop hurting me I love you and I want to be uneasy friends.

To myself, I'm sorry I let you down so much. But thank you for giving this a real try, a real try.

To whoever above strikes me with misfortune when I'm most giddy, I hate you and I want to do the jump and kick my heels thing you FUCK. I will find you.

To Georgia, I hate you.

#my art #poetry #my poetry #rabbittt art

[jenonctcity]

My Responsibility - Epilogue

Differences - Huang Renjun  

Part of the Bad Boy Series.

Badboy!Au, Parent!Au

Warnings: Very brief mentions of abortion, minor character death, pregnancy, swearing, mention of injury, mention of sex. 

Word Count: 7k

Renjun is 20 years old, and things are going perfect for him for what feels like the first time in eternity. He has a stable relationship with the woman of his dreams, and his baby girl Jiyeon is the most adorable child in the world and he’s so thankful that’s shes well behaved. Of course there was ups and downs, but he was finding them easier to battle against with the support of you behind him. Even if the battles did mostly consist of things like Jiyeon eating an entire bag of gummy bears when Renjun wasn’t looking and then her vomiting them back up less than 10 minutes later, or when Renjun accidentally turned everyone’s laundry pink when he’d put Jiyeon’s red dress in the washing with the whites. Little things like that mattered to him to have a support.

Another thing he loved about having a girlfriend, was the sex. He still had a constant craving to get on top of you and hump you like a dog in heat, and you kindly let him. Which also ended up being the reason you ended up pregnant less than a year into your relationship with him.

“You’re being so grumpy.” He frowned after you pushed him away from you when he tried persistently to get into your panties. You rolled your eyes, frowning back at him and folding your arms over your chest.

“I’m not in the mood to have sex with you, it’s barely 9am and I don’t feel too great.” You mumbled, rolling over in bed and turning your back to him. He stared at you, his facial expression showing how displeased at your attitude he was.

“You haven’t got to be a bitch about it, jeez.” He grumbled and turned his back to you, pulling the duvet up over his shoulder and huffing.

“Fuck you, you’re the reason why I’m grumpy.” You grunted at him, shutting your eyes and trying to ignore him.

“I didn’t even do anything wrong!” He turned around, almost offended that you’re blaming him for your sour mood.

“Tell your superhuman sperm that.” You mumbled, not really thinking that he could hear you, but his ears pricked up and he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

“What are you talking about? See I haven’t done anything wrong so you’re attacking my sperm. You’re so petty.” He sat up and pulled on a pair of boxers from his drawer, not wanting to put up with your attitude anymore.

“Because Renjun,” You paused to sit up and look at him with fire in your eyes. “I missed one pill. ONE FUCKING PILL!!! And normally there would be enough of the pill still in my system to prevent anything from happening, but your stupid, superhuman fucking sperm went against the odds and somehow made its journey to its destination.” You couldn’t help but snapping at him, not really wanting this to be how you admitted to him that you were pregnant, but it was too late now. His mouth dropped open and he went sheet white. You quickly laid down again with your back to him, sniffing back your emotions and thinking about all the possible outcomes.

“W-what?” He visibly gulped, his mouth falling open as it completely dawned on him.

“I’m pregnant.” Your words fell on deaf ears, Renjun too in his own head stressing out about the bomb you’d just dropped on him. He stood up, hastily putting on jeans and a t-shirt, not even realising nor caring that the t-shirt he threw on was inside out. He left the room and you sighed, not even realising that he’d left because your back was to the door. “I know you don’t want more kids, and I’m sorry that this happened, but I did warn you that it wasn’t a good idea to not use a condom…Oh now you’re just going to ignore me? And you called me petty.” You sat up with a frown on your face, ready to square up to him about this, but your face fell when you saw he was gone, and the door was left open. “Renjun?” You felt your stomach plummet through to the centre of the earth, just crossing your fingers that he did eventually come back.

Renjun sat in Chenle and Jisung’s living room, a tub of chocolate ice cream on his lap with a thick fluffy blanket wrapped around him, his eyes red with all of the tears that he’d spilt. He was watching a car race on the tv and he kept shovelling spoonful’s of ice cream in his mouth. Chenle and Jisung just sat either side of him, looking concerned but not wanting to ask just in case he started to cry again like he had when Jisung dared to inform him that his t-shirt was inside out. They heard the front door to their apartment rattle, and then Jaemin stepped through the door. He had been notified by Chenle that Renjun was hauled up in their apartment, eating his feelings instead of expressing them.

“You’ll get diabetes if you eat all of that.” Jaemin commented as he crouched down in front of Renjun, very gently pulling the tub of ice cream away from him and being cautious not to unsettle the poor man. “You know you have a girlfriend at home who’s very upset because of your absence.” He speaks very calmly and softly to Renjun. Renjun sighs and runs a hand over his face, feeling ashamed of himself for only thinking of his own feelings. A baby was a joint effort, and he had just as much of a part in making it as you did. He had guilt swimming in the pit of his stomach, knowing that you were probably crushed because he ran out in the way that he did.

“I know.” He mumbles and gulps, looking up at the ceiling and trying not to cry. “I’m having another baby…I’m twenty years old and about to have my second child Jaemin, I didn’t want this…I didn’t even want the first one…(Y/N)’s parents already hate me, they’ll hate me even more now I knocked up their daughter!” He’d never really broken down about his insecurities in being a father, because he’d just gotten on with it, and when he held Jiyeon for the first time he didn’t regret making her at all. He hoped he would feel this way about his unborn child when it came into the world, but he couldn’t be certain yet. He had met your parents not long after you’d started dating. He thought that they hated him, but they actually didn’t mind him, and both of your parents adored Jiyeon. He was just overthinking.

“I know, I’m not going to tell you that your feelings are invalid, I’m just going to tell you that you need to think about (Y/N) right now, and instead of sitting here between these two muppets and crying about it, maybe you should be holding your girlfriend and crying with her. Because she’s currently crying on her own.” Jaemin gave him a tender smile and patted Renjun’s knee. Renjun nodded and stood up, his eyes feeling sore and his stomach making him feel nauseas. He knew that Jaemin was right with everything he said, and he had to make things right before it was too late.

He went back to the apartment alone, Jaemin staying with Chenle and Jisung because he knew that the two of you would want to be alone. He sighed as he enters the apartment, kicking off his shoes and setting his keys down on the kitchen counter. He had a quick glass of water to get his fluids up and to calm his nerves slightly.

“Did you find him Jaems?” You were rubbing your red, watery eyes when you walked into the kitchen, your favourite blanket wrapped around your body much like Renjun had wrapped the blanket around his body when he needed the comfort. You paused when you pulled your hands away from your eyes and saw Renjun instead of Jaemin. “Oh.” You were taken by surprise and you looked at the floor, sniffing back your tears.

“Baby…” He spoke quietly, approaching you and taking your face in his hands. “I’m sorry I ran out on you; I wasn’t thinking about anyone but myself and I was being selfish.” He stroked your cold, wet cheeks, and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. “If you want to go through with the pregnancy then I’ll stand by you every step of the way, and if you don’t want to go through with it, then I’ll take you to the clinic and hold your hand.” You whimpered in his hold, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks and hitting his thumbs.

“Renjun, do you think we can raise a baby?” You looked up at him through wet eyelashes. He trailed his hands down your face, shoulders, arms, and finally taking your hands in his own. He let out a soft laugh and shrugged.

“Meh, it’s a piece of cake.” You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at that, glancing down at your feet and shaking your head. Renjun had told you plenty of times how hard it was being a parent, and he had her a lot less than her mother did, so you could only imagine how hard it would be to have a baby with you 24/7. “Seriously baby, we can do it. It’s a challenge but it’s doable.” He sounded semi-confident and you bit your bottom lip, pondering over your choices before giving him a nod and staring up at him.

“I hope we have a girl.”

---

Renjun is 21 years old, and he feels like he’s holding the whole world in his hands. But he’s not, he’s holding his newborn daughter in his hands and not caring about the tears rolling down his cheeks. Huang Jihyo. She was a week old and already doing him proud, as she’d just unknowingly flipped him the bird when she was stretching her tiny fingers out. Renjun was so proud of her for her accidental rude gesture that he just burst into tears on the spot, glad no one was around to see him cry.

You were taking a nap, because being a new mother was exhausting, and Renjun offered to watch over Jihyo, mainly because she was asleep and had just been changed and fed, so she had no reason to wake up screaming at him. Since the two of you had found out that you were expecting another baby, you’d moved into your apartment across the hall from the boy’s apartment, just needing a little extra room. But of course Renjun and you still both had a key and you spent a lot of time in their apartment still. The person who was probably most excited about the new baby, was Jiyeon. As soon as you’d both told her that she was going to be a big sister, she had spent at least an hour rambling random things to your stomach as you sat on the couch with her head on your lap. She also liked to gently pat your bump and tell you all about how she was going to share her toys with her new sibling.

Renjun got up gently, holding Jihyo in his arms when there was a knock at the door. He answered the door and smiled widely at his two-year-old daughter stood by her mothers’ legs. He greeted his ex, making small talk and showing off his new baby like the proud father he was, then took Jiyeon’s backpack from her and bid her mother goodbye.

“My sister!” Jiyeon started to jump around by Renjun’s feet, a wide grin on her face and her shoes making loud tapping noises against the wood floor. Renjun stroked the back of her head, brushing down her fluffy hair at the back of her head with a fond smile on his face.

“Yes baby, she’s your little sister. Take your shoes off and you can have a cuddle with her.” He waited patiently whilst Jiyeon dropped onto the floor on her butt, making quick work at unstrapping her velcro shoes from her small feet. Once she was free of her shoes, she ran through to the living room ahead of her father, climbing onto the sofa and sitting comfortably against the cushion. Renjun followed her and sat down beside her, cradling Jihyo and smiling as he watched Jiyeon’s reaction.

“Wow…” Jiyeon whispered in awe, reaching out her hand and very gently stroking at the silky black hair on Jihyo’s head. “She’s cute!” She chirped and kept her eyes on the baby, her big eyes narrowing from how big her smile was.

“Do you want to have a cuddle with her?” Renjun asked in a soft voice.

“Yes please daddy!” She sat back on the sofa as Renjun grabbed a pillow, laying it across Jiyeon’s lap and making sure the pillow was propped up against the arm of the sofa for support.

“Okay, but you have to be very careful and not move too much okay Princess?” He gently laid Jihyo down on the pillow, making sure that one Jiyeon’s arm stayed under the pillow to help support the pillow, and the other arm laying over Jihyo’s legs. He set them like this so that Jiyeon felt like she was cuddling her baby sister.

“Okay!” She giggled as he looked between Jihyo and Renjun. “I love her so much.” She smiled cutely up at her dad, and Renjun felt the tears welling up in his eyes again as he looked at his two babies who he loved more than anything in the world. He couldn’t help but pull out his phone and snap a quick picture of them together, immediately setting it as his background.

“She loves you too, you’re going to be best friends as well as sisters, and you have to promise daddy to always be there when she needs you and to share your toys with her. But you also have to promise daddy never to gang up on him with her okay?” He added the last part purely so he could throw it back in her face in 10 years’ time if the two of them ganged up on him. She nodded eagerly and let out a cute laugh.

“I promise daddy.”

“Good girl.” He leaned in and gave her a tender kiss on her forehead, not regretting any of his choices in life as he watched his first baby lean down and give his last baby a kiss on her smooth cheek.

It was 6 months later when Minjun was born. When you’d asked Renjun if he was jealous that Jeno had a son when he didn’t, he quickly denied it. However that was a lie. Of course he was jealous! He was stuck with not one, but two daughters. And Jeno had a boy on his first attempt at making a life. It wasn’t that Renjun didn’t love his daughters to death because he did. But he loved the idea of a mini Renjun running around his feet. However he wasn’t planning to have any more kids, so he kissed the idea of a mini Renjun goodbye and laid that dream to rest. It was probably for the best that he didn’t have a mini Renjun, as big Renjun was, in your words, ‘a nightmare’.

You cooed down at the teeny tiny baby boy in your arms, his miniscule hand in between your thumb and your finger as you gazed at him under Jeno’s watchful eye. Everyone could already tell that Jeno was a complete papa bear with his son, and you thought it was adorable. Minjun was a lot smaller than Jihyo was at birth, because she was born late and was quite chunky, but Minjun was born early and had hardly any baby fat on him.

“You’re going to be such a handsome boy Minjunnie!” You cooed at him, glancing at Renjun who sat beside you with 6-month-old Jihyo nestled in his arms. You looked between the babies and then smiled widely. “You’re going to marry our Jihyo so that me and your mummy can be related!” If you could have taken a picture of the look of disgust and horrification on Renjun and Jeno’s faces, you’d have taken it in a heartbeat.

“I think the fuck not.” Renjun spluttered out in shock, giving you a scowl and visibly shudder. “I don’t want to be related to Jeno!”

“Fuck you, I don’t want to be related to you either.” Jeno frowned at him. You scoffed a laugh.

“Why? You’re best friends!” You couldn’t understand their logic, but you were used to things like this, so it didn’t come as a complete shock to you.

“Because we’re best friends and it’s weird to have our kids be together.” Jeno answered for Renjun, who nodded along in agreement. You had a feeling that the two of them had discussed this prior to you bringing it up. But you didn’t ask, just rolling your eyes and letting the subject go.

It was a week later than Renjun found out about Jaemin’s engagement to his girlfriend. He was shocked to say the least. He couldn’t quite believe that Jaemin had grown the balls and asked his girlfriend to marry him before he had plucked up the courage to ask you. But at the same time, he was excited for his best friend. He knew how much his girlfriend meant to him and how much Jaemin had been longing to get married and start a family. But he didn’t like what Jaemin’s decision was doing to his own impulse decisions.

“Jiyeonie, Uncle Jaemin is getting married.” He decided to break the news to her whilst she was clutching at his hand, toddling alongside him in the middle of the city. She had on a little backpack that Renjun had just bought for her, the tags still attached to the zipper, and she was wearing a new pair of light up shoes, her eyes constantly looked down towards the ground as the flashing amused her. Renjun loved to buy her new things, and whenever she asked him if she could wear the new things before they left the shop, the answer was always a yes. Her old shoes had been shoved into her new backpack just so that the toddler felt like she had a purpose for wearing her backpack.

“To a princess?” She glanced up from her flashing shoes and squinted under the sun as she stared up at her father with a curious expression on her face.

“To his princess!” Renjun smiled with twinkles in his eyes down at his daughter. When he glanced up, he noticed a jewellery store, and an impulsive decision crossed his mind that he couldn’t just seem to shake away. “Should daddy marry princess (Y/N)?” He wondered what the two-year-old would say, knowing she was getting really good with her words and at expressing her thoughts. Renjun had taught her

“Nope.” Jiyeon shook her head and went back to staring at her shoes, giving her foot a hard stomp on the floor once they stopped flashing. Renjun frowned and tilted his head, wondering why she wouldn’t want you and him to get married. She seemed to absolutely adore you, and when she’d found out what marriage was not too long ago when watching a Disney film, she’d immediately turned to you and asked you if you were married to her daddy. She seemed terribly upset when she found out that you weren’t married and had no plans to marry each other, so this came as a surprise to the young father.

“Why not?” He stopped walking, placing his hands underneath her armpits, and hoisting her up into his hold, sitting her on his hip and cuddling her close.

“Because you can’t marry a princess daddy, you’re not a prince.” Renjun’s face fell into a deadpanned expression. Clearly, she was still confused about this marriage situation, not only that, she just lowkey hurt her father’s feelings.

“You’re spending too much time with your Uncle Haechan.” He mumbled and then stopped as he got in front of the jewellery store. “You know, you haven’t got to be a prince to marry a princess, so do you think daddy should marry (Y/N)?” He asked again after giving her a little bit of persuasion. He wanted her to say yes, because if she continued to say no, he would definitely wait a little while longer until she said yes. Although she was only a toddler, he believed that his daughters opinions mattered, and he would never do something to upset her.

She pursed her lips as she thought it over, before shrugging and giving him a huge grin. “Yes!”

Renjun purchased an engagement ring, and he told Jiyeon not to say a word to anyone about it, but she was so excited, that when they got back to the apartment and Renjun took Jihyo to have a diaper change, she couldn’t hold it in any longer.

She told you that her daddy had bought a ring and told you to keep it a secret. Clearly, she had gotten her wires crossed, and hadn’t realised that you were the one person who shouldn’t find out about the ring. But you kept her secret and waited patiently for a proposal.

---

Renjun is 22 years old, and he feels the most horrid feeling in the pit of his stomach as he hangs up the phone call. A haze of disbelief, shock, and heartbreak float around his mind as he numbly walks into the bedroom where you sat, aimlessly staring at your phone, none the wiser to the news Renjun had just been lumbered with. Renjun took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself as he sat down beside you on the edge of the bed.

“Baby, I have something to tell you.” He laid his hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as he smiled softly at you. You furrowed your eyebrows, concern rushing through you as you took in his body language and facial expression.

“What’s going on?” You asked curiously, already adapting your own tone and mood to fit with his. He let out a soft sigh and rubbed his thumb against your leg as he broke the news to your that Jaemin’s fiancée had passed away after the two of them had gotten into a car accident. You felt your stomach drop through the floor, and tears blurred your vision almost immediately. He gave you more details about the accident, and included that she was brain dead, her body only kept alive by machines until Jaemin woke from his coma to give the doctors permission to take her off of life support. You felt your heart break. Not particularly for yourself, but for Jaemin, and her family. You knew how much she meant to Jaemin, and your sobbed harder after Renjun told you that they had gotten married in secret just before the accident. You couldn’t comprehend how the world was such a cruel place to take someone away from someone else on their wedding day.

Renjun held you to his chest as you cried, his hand rubbing up and down your back as a silent tear rolled down his cheek. He didn’t cry easily but seeing you in pieces over the loss of your close friend really affected him. He also put himself in Jaemin’s shoes and thought about how hard it would be on him if he lost you, or one of his daughters, and his heart broke even more for Jaemin. He was so close with the boys and their partners. They were the people that he considered his family and losing a member of the family was never easy on anyone.

Now all you and Renjun had to do was mourn for the loss of your family member and wait for Jaemin to wake up.

The funeral was tough on everyone.

You had made sure that morning to give Jihyo and extra kiss as you left her with your parents. Renjun had made the decision not to allow Jiyeon to go to the funeral, as she still didn’t fully understand what was happening and he didn’t want her to be around all of the emotional adults, knowing it was be distressing for her.

The two of you were child free as you entered your apartment. It was eerily silent but brought you a feeling of relief and peacefulness. You had found it hard to cope with the loss of your friend whilst parenting a baby, because you were so focused on Jihyo that you barely found the time to deal with your own feelings.

Renjun could see that your eyes were filling up with tears as you kicked your heels off and shrugged your coat off, just letting it all to the floor as you walked into the living room. Renjun sighed, picking up your coat and hanging it on the coat peg, before riding himself of his own coat and placing his shoes beside yours.

“Baby?” He called out as he followed you to the living room. You were sat on the sofa, staring at the turned off screen of the television with a blank gaze. He gave you a look of concern, his eyebrows pulling together and a muted smile on his lips. Sitting himself next to you, he pulled you close to him, giving you a tight hug and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Are you okay?” You took a deep breath and simply nodded. “You can cry. I know that you’re holding it back (Y/N).” He held your head against his chest, stroking your cheek with his thumb and holding you tighter against himself when he felt a tear hit his thumb.

“It’s not fair.” You let out a sob, your chest convulsing as you whimpered in the arms of your love. “They were so in love Renjun! They had just gotten married and then she dies because of some fucking idiot in a car!” You relaxed in his hold, finding his touch comforting to you.

“I know honey.” He spoke gently, his lips once against pressing to your forehead. You cried in his arms for another five minutes, before you gulped down the lump in your throat and pulled away from Renjun’s chest. You looked him in the eyes and leaned forward, giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

“I want another baby.” Renjun’s body stiffened and his eyes widened in shock.

“No.” He straight up shot you down, shaking his head fast from his dedication to his answer. You frowned and tilted your head, hurt that he just shot you down so fast without even considering it.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re just taking with your emotions! You’re upset that they didn’t have a baby before she died so you’re trying to make up for your guilt by having another baby!” Renjun had hit the nail right on the head. You did feel guilty, and your emotions and hormones were flying around so much that you were convinced you wanted another baby. But in that moment, you didn’t see it that way.

“You don’t even want another baby with me! Just admit it!” You started to cry again, and you stood up, staring at Renjun with a frown on your face. “You’re probably going to get bored of me and leave me anyway a-and then have a baby with another woman in a few months’ time!” Renjun rolled his eyes and he let out a sigh, deciding just to let you vent at him. He knew that you were too overcome by your emotions that you weren’t thinking straight, so he didn’t blame you. “You don’t even love me! You bought an engagement ring ages ago, but you still haven’t proposed to me!” Renjun’s eyes nearly popped out of his head from how shocked he was.

“How did you know that I bought a ring?” He squeaked out, sitting up and feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

“Jiyeon told me.” You muttered and started to calm down, crossing your arms across your chest and crying silently. Renjun groaned and sighed. He stood up and hurried to pull you into an embrace.

“Listen, I didn’t propose to you because Jaemin had just proposed to his girlfriend and I didn’t want to steal the limelight from him. Then his wife died, and I can’t propose to you for a while now because that’s insensitive. I love you so fucking much, and it hurts me that you would think otherwise. I want to marry you, I do. Just give it some time.” He took your face in his hands and tilted your face to look at his. “I…I don’t know if I’m ever going to want another baby. I may change my mind one day, but we’ve only just had Jihyo. I’m 22 years old and I have two kids, this is a lot for someone my age. Most men my age aren’t doing what I’m doing, this is a big struggle for me. I hope you understand.” He placed a soft kiss to your lips and sighed gently. “I love you.”

You felt awful for everything you’d said in your mini meltdown. You were so thankful that Renjun had his head screwed on properly and had enough common sense for the both of you in that moment. “I’m so sorry, I love you too.” You rested your face in the crook of his neck, wrapping your arms around his middle and squeezing him tightly.

Renjun smiled softly, holding you tight against him as he processed his thoughts, relieved he didn’t get sucked into having another baby.

---

Renjun is 25 years old, and the wedding ring sits heavy on his ring fingers almost heavier than the newborn baby boy in his arms. Huang Jinhyung had been born a week ago, a day before your first wedding anniversary. Obviously because of the arrival of your baby, neither of you had been able to celebrate your first anniversary, but neither of you minded. Jinhyung was the best present you could have received. He was tiny, as he was born a few weeks early, but he was healthy and had a head full of black hair. Renjun was absolutely enamoured by his son, and even though he would have been just as happy to have had a baby girl, he finally had the son he had been wanting since he found out his ex was pregnant with Jiyeon. Jinhyung had been planned. After you got married, Renjun had told you that he wanted another baby much to your surprise. It didn’t take long for you to get pregnant at all, but that wasn’t a surprise to you as you knew Renjun had supersonic sperm. Another thing significant that had happened after your wedding, was Renjun gave up his life of crime. He got a normal 9-5 job working at Haechan’s uncles’ garage, fixing up cars and legally selling them. He was lucky enough to be given flexible work hours too, so he could equally spread his time between his job and his family. Money wasn’t a big issue for you though, as you had a part time job working at the local bank every Thursday and Friday when Renjun wasn’t at work, and Renjun had saved up a lot of money during his days of illegal activity.

“I know I’ve said this before but, this is the last baby.” Renjun broke the silence between you both as you watched the tv with Jihyo sat in between you both. Jiyeon was at her mothers but she had already met Jinhyung and had fallen in love with him, over the moon to have a baby brother. Jihyo was also excited about having a baby brother, and Renjun had caught her stroking his hair and putting her teddy bears on him when he was asleep in his crib.

“I’m happy with three.” You smiled at him, adoring the way he was with his son. You saw Jiyeon as your own daughter, and always referred to her as your own when speaking about her to other people.

“I mean it this time. I am declaring Jinhyung as my last spawn.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words, rolling your eyes and nodding your head.

“Okay, he can be our last.”

“I never even thought I’d have one child, and now I have three. Sometimes I’m just stunned at how my life turned out, but…like…” He struggled to put into words the thoughts that were going through his head. “In a good way kind of stunned you know?” He raised an eyebrow, unsure if his words made sense to you because they didn’t make much sense to himself. You giggled and bit your bottom lip, nodding slowly as you knew exactly what Renjun was babbling on about. He often expressed his love for how his life turned out in the smallest of ways, but it all added up to you, making a big picture that you could stare at all day long. It was in the little glances you saw him making at his daughters as they built lego castles, and in the way he’d gasp in surprise whenever Jihyo presented him with an messy picture she’d drawn, like it was the most amazing piece of artwork he’d ever seen. He was an amazing father, even if he didn’t see it all the time, but you were used to Renjun self-deprecation.

You just wished that he could see the man that you saw whenever you looked at him.  

---

Renjun is 29 years old. He felt like he was going through a midlife crisis, and he’d been spouting about how old he felt. All because his first-born baby had turned 10 years old. Jiyeon had grown up to be a smart, funny, caring, and witty girl. She never failed to make Renjun proud whenever she’d presented him with a certificate she’d achieved at school for her excellent work or for her caring personality. He was a proud father. Not that his other kids weren’t smart, but Jihyo had a tendency to tell lies or blame things on her brother. Like the time she’d spilt her juice on the new white carpet and had blamed it on Jinhyung. It was a week later that the truth came out and Renjun had to be the bad guy and take her Nintendo switch away from her for a week as a punishment. Renjun didn’t have a problem with Jinhyung, he was a little prince. But he did wish that he’d stop wetting the bed so much. Baby steps.

“Dad…” Renjun looked up from his phone, in the middle of texting Haechan about their weekend plans, to see Jiyeon standing in front of him. Her hands behind her back and a small smile playing on her lips.

“Yes honey?” He immediately put his phone down, giving her his full attention. She took a deep breath and hesitated. It took her another five seconds to pluck up the courage before she spoke.

“Can I live with you?” Her voice came out fast, with a slight waver to her tone from the nerves she felt flooding through her system. It wasn’t a big deal, but she was so desperate for him to say yes, that she felt an unfamiliar bubble of worry in her stomach. Renjun’s eyebrows furrowed, and he sat forward, setting his arms on his legs as he studied her.

“Why do you want to live here honey?” He reached a hand-out, taking hers in his own. His tattooed hand would look big and intimidating to most 10-year-olds, but the little girl stood in front of him trusted him with her whole life.

“Because I want to be with my family more.” Her words didn’t sit right with Renjun. It made him wonder why she didn’t consider her mother and stepfather as her family. Maybe he was reading too much into this, but he knew he had to dig deeper and find out the reason.

“Hmm…” He gave her a weak smile as he went over his thoughts in his head. “Why don’t you want to continue living at your mums though? Did something happen?” At Renjun’s question Jiyeon’s face turned into one of surprise, and she quickly shook her head.

“No! I just don’t have any siblings at mums, and I get super bored because she works a lot.” She shrugged and moved to sit beside her father. Renjun pursed his lips, weighing up his options. He came to a conclusion and gave her a sad smile.

“Mummy would miss you a lot though, how about I speak with her and arrange it so that you can stay here for a bit longer when it’s my turn to have you? You’re only 10 princess.” At this her face fell a little, but she quickly faked a smile and nodded in understanding. Renjun made another decision quickly and spoke before he’d had any time to really think it over. “How about when you turn 13, if you still want to live her permanently then you can okay? No questions asked, you can just move in and see your mum when you want. Deal?” He smiled as he looked down at his child, her face slowly lighting up at her father’s proposal. She stuck her hand out to him with a grin on her face.

“Deal.” He glanced down at her small hand, and with a chuckle he took her hand in his own, shaking it gently.

---

Renjun is 32 years old. And he never wanted to experience this. He’d always hoped that when the time came, you’d be around, or Jiyeon would be at her mothers. But there he sat, on the sofa with Jiyeon curled up against his side, tear tracks down her cheeks and a hot water bottle huddled against her stomach. Yes, she’d started her period. And now that Jiyeon officially lived under Renjun’s roof, he had to be the one to deal with it. He was stroking her hair, twirling the dark strands around his finger and hoping he did the right thing by providing her with her with the right products, and by making her a hot water bottle to try and soothe the burning ache of pains she was feeling. On his other side, cuddled up to him just like his sister, was Jinhyung. His left arm was in a cast, due to how he’d thrown himself down the stairs, trying to imitate how buzz lightyear tried to fly in toy story. Renjun was scared, because his son was showing a lot of signs of having his own personality. Jinhyung was 7 years old, and already a mini Renjun. Of course, Jihyo had egged him on. Why wouldn’t she? She thought it was hilarious watching her little brother yeet himself down the staircase after shouting ‘to infinity and beyond’.

That was a week ago, and Jinhyung was thriving, because you were treating him like he had a life-threatening injury. Constantly bringing him snacks, letting him have soda more than once a day, and giving him all the cuddles he could possibly want. Which you were grateful for, as you knew most boys stopped being cuddly with their mothers after they hit their teen years, so you were happily cashing in on your son’s clinginess. Jihyo still sniggered when she thought about the incident, and Renjun couldn’t help but laugh along with her instead of scolding her. Which often lead to you scolding him, but he struggled to contain his laughter when his mischievous daughter was laughing.

Jihyo was sat on the floor in front of them, drawing a picture of a flower in beautiful detail. She loved art, and when she’d told her father about her newfound hobby, he’d immediately taken her to the nearest arts and crafts store to buy her all the supplies she needed to feed her newfound skill.

Renjun couldn’t lie. He loved the peace and quiet of the room as they watched the third Jurassic park film, all the kids’ content and calm. But in typical fashion, it was Jihyo who interrupted the silence.

“Mums home!” She had heard your car pull up in the driveway, and she turned her head to the door as you quietly entered. You kicked your shoes off and smiled as you walked into the room, seeing your husband and babies all snuggled up and calm. Renjun turned his head to the door and gave you a beaming smile.

“Hey baby.” He greeted, gently removing his arms from around Jiyeon and Jinhyung so that he could push himself off the sofa. He walked over to you, taking your hand in his own and gently guiding you to the kitchen, out of earshot of the children.

“What’s up Renjunnie?” You shrugged your coat off, laying it on the chair of the dining table and giving Renjun a soft smile. He loved that even after all these years, you still called him Renjunnie, the little butterflies in his stomach always flapped their wings at the sound of the nickname.

“Jiyeon started her period. I gave her one of your pads and a hot water bottle…did I do it right?” The look of concern on his face made your heart melt, and a small giggle to leave your mouth. You nodded quickly to ease his worries, leading him to let out a sigh of relief. “Thank god, I didn’t know what to do so I googled it but I was kind of in a hurry so I didn’t read it properly and-“ You cut off his babbling by connecting your lips with his own. He visibly relaxed, his eyes drifting to a close and his hands finding purchase on your hips. A kiss form you could always relieve his stress, and it was working wonders for him now.

“You did great.” You whispered against his lips after you drew them back a few centimetres from his own.

“Thank you.” He took your compliment and wore it like an invisible badge on his chest, a big smile taking over his lips.

“I love you.” Your words echoed in his head, sending a thrill of excitement through his body, and making his heart rate speed up.

“I love you too.” He smiled as he kissed you, the curve of his lips pressed to yours made you also break out into a smile.

“Oh! I have something to tell you! I-”

“You’re not pregnant, are you?” His face was one of concern as he cut you off. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and shook your head.

“No! I got a coupon for money off pizza…”

Renjun sighed in relief.

---

Well, this is it for Renjun’s story. I hope you enjoyed it and I want to thank you so much if you made it this far! I appreciate every single one of you. ❤

#briefly proofread sorry for any errors #huang renjun #nct #nct dream #nct renjun #nct smut #nct angst #nct fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream angst #nct dream fluff #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #renjun #nct 00 line #nct dream 00 line #nct reactions #nct dream reactions #nct series #nct dream series #nct long fics #nct dream long fics #huang renjun smut #huang renjun angst #huang renjun fluff

[mummybear]

Cowboys And Kisses

This Is Day 16 Of Roleplay May

Words: 2922

Warnings: Smut, Swearing, Cowboy Kink, Face Riding, Biting, Marking, Slight Size Kink, Scratching, Dirty Talk. Think That’s It.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean and Sam leave you at the bunker when they go out on a hunt, they’re gone for so much longer than anyone expected, on one of the last calls with Dean what he was wearing had really struck a chord within you. With something that you were trying your hardest to keep hidden. So what happens when they come home?

A/N: So sorry this is late wanted to get it right and it just wasn’t working with my brain there for a bit lol :P Enjoy ;)

You were so bored home alone for the first time in what felt like forever, Sam and Dean had gone on a hunt almost a week ago now. You’d been left at home with the flu, but you’d started to feel better two days after they had left, since then you wanted nothing more than to keep yourself busy. You’d been doing everything you could think of, not that any of it really helped, baking, cleaning the bunker, cleaning and checking weapons. Honestly, you’d completely lost count of the amount of odd jobs you’d done.

Both brothers had called and texted you almost every day since they’d been gone, just to make sure that you were okay, no doubt knowing that in your position they would be going stir crazy as well. You’re even starting to miss the most annoying things about them, including but not limited to, Dean always complaining that he’s hungry and Sam constantly moaning about Dean’s music. Ah, the joys of living with brothers.

Letting your thoughts wander too far was always a bad idea, especially when it came to one brother in particular, but since yesterday it was much harder than it ever had been before to stop yourself. Because when he had called yesterday he’d been dressed in an all black suit and crisp white shirt, much nicer than any of the other FBI suits that he owned, the boots were a very nice surprise, the outfit was completed with a cowboy hat and bolo tie. 

You had almost swallowed your tongue when his deeper than usual voice had rumbled through the speaker of your phone. He sounded happier than you’d ever heard him, the thick Texan drawl of his voice doing things to you that you hadn’t expected.

A knock at your bedroom door pulls you from your thoughts, “Honey, we’re home.” You turn to find a grinning Dean leaning against your door frame, still dressed in his cowboy getup, with Sam dressed in a normal fed suit beside him. Climbing off of your bed you quickly and awkwardly throw your arms around Sam first, feeling his strong arms wrap around your back, unable to stop yourself from laughing when Dean pouts at you.

“Come here you dork,” you laugh and Dean grins happily, almost having to jump, you throw your arms around his strong neck and pull him close. You squeal in surprise when he squeezes you tightly, standing to his full height he keeps you close to his chest, so your feet are no longer touching the floor. God he feels good and he smells amazing, the slight stubble on his jaw scratching against your neck and face gently. 

You’re starting to get a little lost in the moment until Sam clears his throat beside the two of you. “Dean! I need to breathe,” you exclaim, giggling a little when he finally lets go, a blush staining those freckled cheeks.

“Sorry, I...we missed you,” he shrugs, trying to correct himself mid sentence, adjusting the hat on his head, drawing your attention back to just how good he looks. 

“Yeah well, I missed you both too.” you smile back at him, seeing Sam shift beside you.

“Right, I’ve gotta get going guys. Supply run, you want me to grab dinner for us?” Sam asks on his way out of your room. 

“Sounds good!” you and Dean call at the same time.

“Get pizza, leave the pie!” you shout before Dean can say anything, since you already know what he’s going to ask.

“You’ve got it, Y/N!” Sam hollers back.

“Hey! What did I ever do to you?” Dean grumbles, leaning back against your desk with his arms folded across his chest. 

You can’t help but smile at his reaction, typical Dean you think to yourself coming to stand in front of him. “Trust me Dean, you’re not gonna need it. I’ve baked at least a dozen pies, you’ll be fine for a while.” 

“Really!?” Dean grins excitedly tilting his hat in your direction, “Why thank you kindly ma’am.” he winks, the deep timber of his voice shooting straight to your core. 

“I’m guessing someone enjoyed playing cowboy’s yesterday?” you smile, it genuinely warms your heart to see him seriously happy for a while.

“Cowboy’s are awesome!” Dean defends, “Seriously though, I wish you could’ve been there, you would have loved it.” 

“I’m sure I would’ve, I bet you fit right in there huh? It suits you, like I said yesterday.” you grin, biting back the smile as you silently hope that he wasn’t about to prove you right.

“Oh yeah? Just suits me? Yesterday you said I looked hot as fuck,” he grins knowingly, leaning in close. You just about manage to slip out from under him. You can’t be that close to him, not right now, you don’t trust yourself around him. You don’t want to do something that you’ll regret and ruin what you and Dean have as friends. It’s the whole reason that you’d been ignoring the attraction you’d felt for him all this time, in the first place.

“W-Well, yeah. You still do, I just- I didn’t think you’d heard me last night,” you mumble under your breath, doing your best to talk yourself out of this situation, feeling the blush rise in your cheeks as he turns to face you again. 

That cocky smirk in full force on his plump lips, “Oh, so I heard. You know you didn’t hang up when you thought you did sweetheart.” 

Your heart practically stops in your chest. Oh God no. He hadn’t heard that, had he? 

Every time he takes a step forward in a large stride towards you, you take a step back. “I dunno what you’re talking about Dean,” you all but whisper, knowing you’re full of shit as much as he does. 

“Oh I’m guessing by the look on your face you know exactly what I’m talking about,” he challenges you, smirking at you when you have nowhere else to go and your back bumps against the wall. 

“Dean don’t do this, you don’t want this” you tell him, trying to keep your voice strong but it comes out as more of a whisper.

“I’m not doing anything, all you have to do is tell me to stop and go. And I’ll do it, but I heard you sweetheart.” 

“Heard me what?” you ask nervously, your voice just barely above a whisper, swallowing around the lump that’s formed in your throat when he leans in closer. 

Dragging his teeth over his bottom lip he nods and clears his throat and flicks his eyes up to meet yours. “I heard you moaning my name. I think you must’ve muted me, you didn’t hear when I tried to talk to you. I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about it. I know I should’ve hung up,” 

“So you heard everything?” you ask breathlessly, watching the way his eyes move down to your lips.

“Oh yeah, every perfect filthy noise. You sounded so wet,” Dean groans at the memory, tongue pushing against the back of his teeth. 

“I was. Haven’t stopped thinking about you since,” you answer, finally reaching out and pressing against his chest. 

“Do you trust me?” he asks gently, taking your hand in his.

“Yeah, of course I do.” you answer easily, following him as he leads you over to your bed and sits down. 

“C’mere,” he rasps, helping you straddle his thighs so you’re facing him. You close your eyes as his fingers slide over your jaw and he cups your cheek.

You’re taken completely by surprise when his plump lips press against yours out of nowhere, pulling a muffled noise from your throat. Your hands fall to his chest, gripping the lapels of his black suit jacket you pull him closer, feeling him groan against your lips. The kiss is way too short and way to soon he’s pulling back, your hooded eyes meeting his. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” you ask quietly, running your fingers along the brim of Dean’s cowboy hat.

“Oh God no, probably not, might be the worst idea we’ve ever had.” Dean chuckles, quickly joined by you. “I’m tired of being sensible when it comes to you,” he sighs, sounding like he doesn’t know what to do.

“Damn you’re cheesy today cowboy, just kiss me and let’s find out.” 

Your grin falls away when his lips press against yours insistently, one of his arms wraps around your waist and the other falls to grip your ass tightly. Your hips roll down against him, feeling the obvious bulge in his pants pressing into you. The kiss quickly becomes more demanding and Dean’s tongue fights yours for dominance, a fight that he quickly wins.

You roughly push the jacket from his shoulders and let him pull it off his arms and throw it to the floor. You break the kiss so that you can both breathe, “Don’t you dare take that off,” you glare playfully, gently placing the hat back on Dean’s head.

“Kinky,” Dean grins, wiggling those eyebrows at you, making you laugh. “So what exactly were you thinkin’ about when you were moaning my name?” Dean asks curiously, as you start to pull at each other's clothing and throw it in the ever growing pile on the floor. 

“You between my legs working that pretty mouth of yours,”

“Oh yeah? That good was I?” he smirks, throwing his boxers over his shoulder and laying back on the bed. Biting your lip you nod at him, “guess you better take a seat then sweetheart and why don’t you borrow this,” he winks handing you his hat as you straddle his chest. Putting the hat on your head, Dean moans when you lower your hips, your pussy directly above his lips.

Dean’s hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your skin when his tongue moves through your folds. Your eyes focus on his, they’re lidded and he looks completely in his element. You roll your hips into his mouth, whimpering loudly when he swirls his tongue around your sensitive clit. Your hands move up to your tits, rolling the sensitive nipples between your thumbs and forefingers. As the vibrations of Dean’s groans shoot straight through your core, “Dean, please. Feels so good,” you whine loudly, feeling his teeth scrape gently over your throbbing clit.

Your stomach is clenching repeatedly, pussy fluttering against his tongue. Dean’s hands are rough and demanding on your hips, encouraging you to roll them harder and faster against his face, you’re practically riding his face at this point and your head is spinning. Feeling the edge nearing ever closer.

The noises that Dean’s making are only spurring you on, the sweat clinging to your skin just like the bruising grip that he has on your hips. His eyes are daring you to let go, come all over his face, so that’s exactly what you do. One of your hands drops to his head, fingers tangling in his hair as you throw your head back and your orgasm finally hits you, sparking every nerve in your body, pulling a scream of his name from your lips. 

With shaky legs you just about manage to climb off of him and fall onto the bed. You moan loudly into his mouth when his lips immediately press against yours, his hands are everywhere, lips moving down to your neck sucking a purple mark into your skin. He pulls away to look at you and his smile matches your own, taking off his cowboy hat you put it back on his head and wink cheekily.

“Much better,” you’re practically eye fucking him as he rolls his hips into your thigh, “Dean, please. Fuck me baby,” you moan loudly, rolling onto your front and Dean kneels behind you. Arching your back you wiggle your ass at him, giggling when he swats at it playfully. 

“You ain’t gotta ask me twice sweetheart,” Dean groans, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance, still dripping with the evidence of your last orgasm.

“Oh shit, so big,” you whimper as he starts sliding his cock into you teasingly slowly, with a large hand on both ass cheeks he spreads you open, groaning as he watches his cock slide inside your slick pussy. “Come on cowboy, I'm sure you can ride it harder than that,” you moan loudly, when he squeezes harder and his blunt nails bite into your skin, you can’t help pushing back into his hands.

Your hands clench in the blankets beneath you when he slams his hips forwards, pulling a muffled scream past your lips as your face is pushed into the pillow. He moans as he pulls out slowly, “don’t worry sweetheart, I plan on riding your ass hard,” Dean grunts, before another rough snap of his hips has you whining beneath him.

His hips are moving in a slow but rough pace, your back aching as he fucks you into the mattress, the loud slap of his hips against your ass echoes around the room. You turn your head to look at him and feel your pussy clench around his cock hard, Dean’s eyes find yours easily, teeth buried in his bottom lip. “Dean please! Oh god, please,” you beg desperately, when he stops you from pushing back into his thrusts.

Dean pushes his fingers into your hair and wraps it around his hand, roughly pulling your head back as every thrust of his hips comes faster, “how’s that, sweetheart? So fuckin’ tight and wet, you gonna come for me yet?” he growls low in his chest, when your pussy starts to flutter around his cock. 

“So close,” you gasp, back arching harder as his grip tightens and his free hand moves around your hip and between your legs. Your eyes almost roll into the back of his head when his fingers press against your clit, his fingers move in time with his thrusts and it doesn’t take long for him to push you over the edge into your second earth shattering orgasm of the night. You practically scream his name into the sheets, you can feel your come running down your thighs and Dean’s pace doesn’t let up until you’ve finished shaking beneath him.

You're panting into the sheets when Dean finally pulls out and drops on the bed beside you. “Sweetheart, you o-” you cut him off when your lips press against his, passionate but too short, when you pull away he chases your lips and wraps his arms around you.

You know you’re smiling like an idiot when you straddle his hips and wrap your small hand around his slick cock, sliding your hand over him easily, hearing him moan beneath you like you’d imagined so many times. You slowly lower yourself down onto the wide head of his cock, feeling the perfect stretch all over again sends another wave of arousal through you. “Never gonna get used to this,” you whimper, slowly sliding down until your ass is pressed against his thighs.

“Of course you will, got plenty of time to get used to it,”

His hands are on your thighs when you start to roll your hips, fingers digging into your skin as you speed up. Leaning forward you rest your hands on his chest as you start to rise and fall on his cock, the slap of your ass against his thighs almost as loud as the noises that you’re pulling from his lips. “Come on Dean, wanna feel it,”

Your loud moans of his name only seem to spur him on, his hands slide further up your body, large fingers pressing into your delicate skin. You feel his legs shift behind you, then he’s pushing his hips up to meet your thrusts. “Gonna make me come baby girl, fuck!” Dean growls pulling you against his chest.

You bury your face in your neck nipping and sucking at his neck, loving the way that he holds you close. Feeling the muscles of his arms flex beneath his skin, “So deep Dean!” you cry out when his blunt nails drag down you back and he growls your name, cock twitching inside you as he finally finds his release.

He falls back against the bed after a few more rolls of your hips, your sweaty chest pressed tightly against his, with big arms that relax slightly as he legs fall back onto the bed. Your body is aching in the best way possible, every muscle relaxing and you feel completely boneless. 

When you go to roll off of him he groans, “No sweetheart, stay there. Feels good,” Dean mumbles into your neck as your lips press against his shoulder.

Dean pulls out slowly, turning on his side with his arms still wrapped around you. “Pretty safe to say that went well cowboy,” you giggle looking over his shoulder at the hat that lays forgotten beside him. 

You run your fingers through the mess of hair on his head, enjoying the way that he leans into your touch. “Understatement of the century.” he laughs, letting his fingers brush over your side, following the places where his finger imprints are starting to show up. “I guess not all bad ideas are completely terrible,” 

“Oh I love it when you talk dirty to me,” you giggle.

Dean’s smirk is just as big as you’d expected, “Oh, I know you do.” he growls playfully pinning you back against the bed. 

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