#you get extra points for naming the one fucking rare pair that would get me to spend ALL NIGHT ON THIS /pos

[peacockrulz]

doll x n maybe? their dynamic is sort of fun

Its life or death, you're in my world

and its life or death to be my girl

[requests are still open!]

#you get extra points for naming the one fucking rare pair that would get me to spend ALL NIGHT ON THIS /pos #I have OTHER REQUESTS ANON!! #no but serious thanks for the request sdkfjsdkfj #The song is Final Girl (feat. Slayyter) btw #its a bit explicit(?) but its a bit of the vibe for this piece lol not really character fitting just for the vibe #also I'm sorry if you wanted something like. actually ship-related #I would've done an extra doodle but I literally spent all night on this. iits 6am again #anyway thanks!! :3 #Murder drones #serial designation n #murder drones Doll #N x Doll #noll #< i like that shipname actually. sounds like 'null'

[storiesforallfandoms]

i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

#william afton #william afton imagine #william afton x reader #matthew lillard #matthew lillard imagine #matthew lillard x reader #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf movie #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

[softdykellie]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ motion sickness part ii | ellie w.

previous part here | next part here soon

PAIRING: modern!ellie x fem!reader

SUMMARY: having grown up together, everyone knew eachother in jackson. when a brooding newcomer owner to a tattoo shop comes along apparently charming her friendly florist neighbor things seem to take a turn.

WARNING: alternative universe! purposefully all lower case. multiple part series. not a very eventful beginning as ellie’s relationship with reader is slow burn but it will start evolving after this one seriously trust me!

WORD COUNT: 632

ellie. you tasted her name on your tongue and melted into the feeling, flushed. dina had certainly manifested her wishes into fruition, you thought. stared at the girl for way too long, getting familiar with her features and vacant gaze towards the alcohol filled shelves against the main bar wall, freckles like starry war paint, eyebrow scar, pale green iris, peach pink lips, auburn hair gently brushing her shoulder at length. breathtaking, you immediately named the feeling, but she looked worn, tossed around. you blamed it on the bruised eye, caught onto sky grey vibes.

a silly game blossomed into your heart years ago, the inspiration for your flower shop really: how everyone you meet could be described by the floral language. dina thought hers too common, but it was your favorite, a daisy, standing for loyal love and “i’ll never tell”. jesse, a white jasmin, sweet love, amiability. even abby, coriander. you did not know the girl at all, but you saw red carnations grow behind her in the way spiritualists would claim to see auras. red carnations; “my heart aches”.

“flower shop girl, yes, that’d be me”

“cute” she mumbled sipping on the beer dina had given her before promptly pretending to be busy elsewhere though noticebly eavesdropping.

“you’ve got a lot of tattoos on you” jesse pointed matter of factly, earning a chuckle “perks of the job?”

“the job” ellie repeated his words in light humor as if minimizing her own career with the sound “yeah, i guess. you want one?”

“fuck, yeah! maybe a dragon up my back or or you know a snake, i don’t know, what do you usually draw?”

“pretty things” she answered before taking you off guard with a head movement that pointed you out amongst them all “like her” she twisted her body around to meet your face “what would you get, flower girl? roses?”

“the sun” you answered “what does that say about me?”

ellie smiled a weak smile, raising the sleeve of her grey t-shirt to expose a beaming sun by her bicep, detailed sad expression in black ink across its center. you took notice of everything. ferns and a moth grew from her hand to the very end of her forearm and covered scars you could only assume to have been self inflicted. a sword pierced through the spare space of skin next to a phoenix and finally angel wings alongside a well hidden initial: J. you wouldn’t ask, but you wanted to.

“trying to figure that out myself”

you hadn’t noticed when abby left, only that she was gone when a couple dollars slipped past you towards the ground from the countertops, extra tips for dina. you wanted her extroverted ways to carry the conversation, ask the newcomer about the altercation, but she seemed to enjoy playing dutiful dedicated owner more. small talk failed you, and ellie was uninterested.

you planned out your next meeting in your head, showing up with cookies as they do in the movies, catching glimpses of her sketches on the wall, giving them backstories to fill the gaps. it wasn’t so strange to be eager as you were taking into consideration how rare these opportunities had presented themselves: you never left jackson, not even on vacation. the world was meant to turn on its axis but you were destined to stay still, an agoraphobia rooted into your veins like movement would burst your chest open, bloody and broken. the flowers had been a therapist’s idea: to take care of something innocent as a purpose, exist outside the shell of a body you painfully cared for in pure obligation. your personal garden arsenal though, had meaning. yellow tulips, that’s what you were. the flower for unrequited love. the one tattooed by ellie’s hipbone you were yet to see.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #softdykellie #ellie williams #ellie x fem!reader #tlou #abby x fem!reader #the last of us fanfiction #ellie fanfiction #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic

[cinewhore]

The Architecture of Murder - chapter one

pairing: Ezra x blackfem!OC Beatrice Chola (royal AU)

rating: E for Explicit 

word count: 1.7k

warnings: royalty au, murder mystery au, familial angst, smut (female receiving oral, fingering). Small mention of death. 

a/n: if you’ve read this before, you’ll notice things are different in chapter! Making some edits to the story I’m excited about. Credits to the gif maker. Divider by @/saradika

Beatrice stares at the stranger with heavy intent. He was rather good looking, tall, lean with bronzed skin, eyes so brown and bright you could practically see right through them, with a scar running down his left eye.

His eyes. They told stories. Confined secrets. Seen things Beatrice would never be able to wrap her pretty little head around. And if there’s one thing a good girl can't resist, it’s a bad boy.

“Forgive me for my prolonged absence, my travels have left me rather fatigued. I am Ezra, it is a pleasure to be serving you and your kingdom, Queen Demi. I believe my expertise will render rather helpful during these times.”

Ezra smiles cooly, crinkles forming alongside his eyes. Beatrice feels her own face scrunch in thought, trying desperately to place the accent but not having any luck.

He turns his attention towards Beatrice and her sisters, giving a small bow at the hips. Althea sticks her nose up at him as she would anyone else, Millie mimics Ezra’s behavior and Beatrice just watches, mouth forming the words before she could stop them.

“What kind of a name is Ezra?”

Millie hides a snicker behind her fan while Althea makes a point to roll her eyes harshly.

Demi wants to snipe at the girl again for her lack of manners but finds that she is also intrigued by the absence of a formal name from the man. Ezra shrugs and grins.

“Right,” Demi exhales audibly, subconsciously picking something off of her gown. “You’ll be reporting to Gasper. I’m sure he’s fucking about somewhere.” Demi waves her hand towards the footmen and Ezra, disregarding the questioning look Ezra gives her.

Demi, in her regular fashion, decides to throw a feast in celebration of Millicent returning home when Beatrice sees it as another night her mother allows herself to get lost in alcohol, gambling and orgies. Boring, on all accounts.

Let’s face the facts: Demi was a raging drunk and everyone pretended not to notice. She was queen, after all. The last time an advisor mentioned she should watch her cup, she had their tongue cut out. Everyone tiptoed around the subject and it became the norm.

Beatrice decides to put extra care into selecting a dress for the event, fawning over a pastel pink that complimented her skin and figure quite nicely. Opposite of her sisters, Beatrice did not care for the primps and priming of getting dressed each day. She’d rather run free in a loose tunic and trousers, spiraling into a rant about how women’s freedoms were being restricted by the sinister fashions they were expected to wear.

Claire observes the princess with a keen eye. “You never cared about these things before, why the sudden interest?” Claire murmurs, tightening your corset. Beatrice attempts to take a deep breath, trying hard not to move.

“Millie is home, that should be reason enough.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say a certain someone has roused your attention.” Beatrice furrows her brow at the accusation, gritting her teeth.

“I don’t know what you speak of.” Beatrice does want to look nice in front of her sisters, Millie was always the fashionable one of the bunch. Beatrice concludes that’s why she got married first. Deep down, there was a need to look attractive for Ezra. She wasn’t sure what it was but there was a buried desire to make herself more interesting. Everyone else at court knew her, was aware of her behaviors and personality. It was rare that she got to make a first impression on someone who was of equal interest to her.

“You’re a terrible liar.”

“And you’re quite the bitch, so I guess that makes us even.” Claire reaches her hand around and smacks at Beatrice’s breasts. She tries to dodge the attack but fails. Fucking corset.

“Have you heard anything? About the new advisor?” Beatrice inquires. “Surely the servants must be buzzing with news. Everyone is.”

Claire’s face droops at the way the word servant slips out of Beatrice’s mouth, getting lost in her fantasy that they were two equals.

“Outside of the fact that he talks too much, I haven’t heard a peep.” Claire helps you into your dress, making final adjustments before ushering Beatrice to sit down so she can slip on her shoes.

“Your lover won’t like this, you know.” Beatrice sucks her teeth at Claire’s teasing comment.

“Masako isn’t my lover!”

Claire holds up her hands in a surrender fashion, standing back to admire her work. She always had a knack for style, even though she mainly wore the same thing each day. Beatrice was happy to serve as her living doll.

“As pretty as a rose. Have fun at dinner. Please don’t scarf down your food and play nice with your sisters.” Claire instructs.

Beatrice nods and gives her friend a squeeze before taking off towards the dining hall.

The hall is littered with people from the court, all laughing and dancing as the music swells from the instruments being plucked by their owners. Beatrice scans the crowd in search of Ezra, who wasn’t hard to find due to the large group surrounding him. She looks on as he rears his head back in laughter, a small tuft of blonde hair gleaming in the candlelight.

Disappointed by her eagerness to seek him out, Beatrice takes her seat beside Millie at the table, engaging in small talk. Demi surveys her audience, lips cocked in a drunken smile. She dings her knife along the side of her cup of wine, calling the attention of everyone.

“I want to thank you all for this glorious feast that was prepared for the event of my daughter, Millicent, returning home. You can’t possibly understand the true happiness a mother feels when all of her children are under one roof.”

Demi looks to the three of her daughters with a glint of happiness in her eye. “I love you, my darlings, with all my heart and I am proud to be your mother,” she raises her glass and everyone follows suit. “And I am proud to be your queen!”

She tips the cup back, downing the wine without letting a drip waste.

Everyone in the hall cheers and takes merry gulps from their own cups. Beatrice reaches for her cup but hesitates, not in the mood to drink. One drink would turn to four and Beatrice refuses to walk the same path her mother was on.

“Nice to see you, my princess.”

A shiver runs down Beatrice’s spine as Masako hovers behind her chair, gloved hand resting on Beatrice’s shoulder.

“Masako.” She says, curtly.

The regal lady sighs tenderly. “Love it when you say my name.”

Beatrice pushes from the table, causing Masako to shift backwards. Beatrice stalks away from the table, wanting to get away from prying eyes and hoping that Masako would get the hint. She surprises Beatrice by grabbing her arm, whisking her straight towards the center of the floor.

She clutches Beatrice tightly, guiding her steps as she twists and turns.

“What is your problem?” Beatrice hisses, plastering a fake smile on her face. The two women were always out and about so seeing them dance together made no unusual fuss. Surely they were only friends.

“I see you have the eye for the advisor.” Masako notes.

Left foot back, to the side and dip.

“Are you resorting to your delusions, then?” Beatrice whispers, eyes cast downwards.

“I just want to know who I’m competing against, that's all.” Masako twirls Beatrice before pulling her back in. She had to admit, there was something rousing about Masako taking control.

“Compete?” Beatrice scoffs. “I told you this can’t keep happening.”

“And yet it does, just a few nights ago, no? Admit it, you like it when I eat your pussy.”

Beatrice follows Masako’s lead, overcounting the timing between movements, stepping on her foot. Masako giggles at the mistake, having accomplished her task of flustering the poor girl.

Beatrice pulls away and glares at Masako before sharply turning on her heels, exiting the hall altogether. Masako quickly grabs a flute of wine from a floating tray, gulping it down in one swallow before following in Beatrice’s steps.

Ezra watches from afar as Beatrice hurriedly retreats from the room, another woman hot on her heels.

“We, uh, shouldn’t do this here.” Beatrice huffs, shifting her weight on the tip of her toes as Masako makes fast work of lifting up her gown.

“Shut up.”

The next string of words die in Beatrice’s throat as Masako’s mouth connects to her clit, tongue lapping hungrily.

A wanton moan slips out, barely echoing in the empty corridor. Masako spreads Beatrice’s legs further, plunging two fingers deep inside her throbbing cunt. Beatrice cums rapidly, eyes fluttering as her legs quake. Masako rises up to meet Beatrice’s lips, swirling tongues clashing with hurried kisses.

Beatrice hates how quickly she succumbs to Masako’s whim but my god the woman had a gift. It started off as innocent fun when they were younger, slowly growing into heated passions neither of them could put a name on.

“You came so quickly, like the good girl I know you to be.” Masako rubs her nose against Beatrice’s cheek, sliding it down to her neck where she begins to nibble at the flesh. “Always such a good girl for me.”

Masako’s fingers ghost along Beatrice’s tender lips, index finger stroking her mildly swollen pearl.

“Masako-” Beatrice’s voice comes out as a whine, hips searching for something to help ease her aches.

Masako pecks the side of Beatrice’s mouth, removing her hand from beneath her dress. “Later.”

Beatrice frowns at Masako’s retreating figure, slinking back to her own room for the night. Slipping out of her dress, Beatrice climbs into bed, flipping on her side. Curling up into a ball as the day's activities sneak up on her, she descends into a deep slumber.

A loud banging startles Beatrice out of her sleep.

Gathering up the sheets around her disheveled form, Beatrice barely has the time to form a greeting as Claire bursts into the room, a pained expression painted on her face.

“What is with all the fuss? What time is it? Someone better be dead or near death, I swear.”

Claire sighs.

Beatrice had to be ironic.

#ezra prospect #ezra x ofc #Ezra x blackfem!OC #fic: the architecture of murder #original writing #original fiction

[rakishhellion]

i just got all the achievements on neo twewy after weeks and heres some stuff i learned (no spoilers btw)

lets see

the one for being a frequent customer you get when that repeat option shows up on their menu

at tokyu hands you can trade 2 gem pins for another one, the pairs are rare metal and tektite, adamantite and orichalcum, and shadow and dark matter scarletite is an ultimate drop only

if you want to grind stats:

style - 300 cap (you only need 222) - air in a can (vegelovers - tower records)

attack - 500 cap - that spicy black ramen i forgot the name (suzu slurps - dogenzaka)

hp and defense - 999 and 500 cap respectively - tuna head (sby bbq - tipsy tose hall)

scramble slam sucks but heres how you get the rewards:

put the game on ultimate and reduce your level, you get more points this way

the way you get points is by doing beatdrop combos which means you need a lot of enemies that last

also theres a multiplier that goes up by 0,4x everytime you do a combo in battle up to a max 5x, save the enemy with the 3x until you max the multiplier

make the biggest chain you can with JUST ONE slam noise, thats enough to make the whole chain track points, also you can do chain battles with rival players too just let the noise get you then walk up to the player, once youre done, leave the area then come back so the noise respawn

anyways, equip the basic shockwave and force rounds pins so you slowly kill enemies, equip the rest of your party members with pins you want to grind just make sure they dont have x or y inputs

start attacking with shockwave, once the beatdrop circle shows up switch to force rounds only when its past half (delaying a pin gives it a bit of time to regen, enough to give you one extra full use), repeat the process with force rounds, you can make the most of the pins this way, its like, 5 uses of shock and 4 of rounds, a lot of combos

youre gonna make a fuckton of points this BUT chains are gonna be LONG AS FUCK, 40 minutes up to an hour, be warned

second slam is going to be a massive pain in the ass it took me 8 chains to do it (would be less if i remembered to reduce level)

theres a limited amount of the ion trade pins, theres a few you can miss, look it on gamefaqs i dont remember them, youre gonna need all of them for all the pins and threads

you cant get all the fp you need to complete the network by just doing quests and gold dives on regular days, youre gonna need some extra 15 points you get from a LONG dive in another day, its 10 rounds long and kinda hard, the last round is the worst, its two angry bears and a t rex noise (also angry) save a killer remix for this round, the t rex deals a fuckton of damage and if it eats one party member you wont survive the roar that comes next, watch out

hog healer and affinity weaknesses are your best friends for tough fights remember this

for the love of god grind pp on easy on another day, difficulty doesnt change the pp you get (i think the same applies to xp)

the noisepedia completion gives you a graffiti when you hit 80% but youre gonna need 100% for it to count on the save file complete percentage

ive seen ultimate shibuya hikarie w3d5 and ultimate cat street another day be recommended for money grinding but for the most part i disagree (bc i died often, you need high drop rates for these methods)

the way i do it is ultimate o-east w1d5, the chains last less than a minute and only give like 180 to 200 thousand yen, a lot less than the other methods but the short chains make up for it, this method is also good for grinding food (you do need to take the longest route for the tuna heads which can be infuriating considering the load times)

most secret reports are unlocked by defearting boss noise, 3 of them unlock by network completion, the last one only when you get all others, also boss noise respawn if you come back to the area so you dont have to redo the day like in og twewy

its safer to increase drop rate by threads than decreasing level remember that for annoying fights dont worry most abilities arent that good anyway (I NEVER GOT THAT ONE THAT SAVES YOU FROM A FATAL ATTACK TO WORK FUCK THIS GAME)

plague noise only show up on story fights so you cant chain them, go in with high drop rates, you fight almost all of them in quick succession in the day you have to go after that guy, w3d6 i think?

the last boss is the only boss noise you cant chain also for some reason you can soundsurf when it starts throwing balls at you, use that to get groove

for the superboss on another day i recommend using hog healer (to heal), fang defender (to protect yourself from its HIGHLY damaging dash attack wich you can also dodge, but i found it harder and using this pin fully heals you if you get it right), and a lot of pins you can use at once in an all out attack, if one party member gets attacked the other ones will keep going, i recommend using darkness pins since they can stun and pins with easy beatdrop conditions, use killer remixes only when the armor is up, most of the fight is dodging

just do the time trial on easy no one cares anyway

for the remind graffiti theres like one or two you can miss, again, look it up on gamefaqs bc i forgor💀

you dont need to get 100% drop for the worst fights, thats what killer remix is for, 75% is fine, its worse to make a long ass chain than it is to just do another fight

i need to explain how the killer remix drop rates work so heres how:

YOU DONT GET 0,5x PER PARTY MEMBER

thats why youre probably wondering why it isnt always 3x

the way it works is that you get a 0,5 per pin that has that little ready above it (thats what its for, i always wondered that) to get that ready you need to use that pin in a beatdrop combo either as the one that starts or the one that ends it

synergy abilities apply for the whole party strangely enough

theres a thread that gives you more time with pig noise, anyway brute forcing with killer remixes usually work no matter what

shiba is a toxic bottom

anyway thats all

as for what i think abt the game now that im DONE with it, love it honestly, and despite the fact it didnt meet sales expectations i think, im still hopeful for it, twewy survived bc it was so beloved by the devs i guess so theres that, also imagine if next games were on other cities famous for their urban culture that would be so fashion like

#post #neo twewy #uh what else #play digital devil saga #i beg you #guide #i guess #ntwewy #neo the world ends with you

[musingsinmountains]

Masquerade

Synopsis: Your name is Keisuke Baji and it's your second year of studying veterinary medicine in college. Now that the semester is almost over, you’re in danger of losing your scholarship because of your chemistry lab. You may be a pretty smart guy, but that’s not gonna save you. Maybe your lab partner can (even if she’s a bitchy nerd)? Maybe the extra credit you’re gonna get for going to the fine arts festival to support one of your mysterious colleagues? Who knows what happens when the house lights go down and the curtain opens.

C/W: AFAB!Reader, making out, cursing, nicknames, suggestive themes, fluff, angst, College AU,  rivals to lovers,

Pairing: Keisuke Baji x AFAB!Reader

Next

Chapter 1: Baji’s lifeline

It was the last regular week of class before midterms and you were stuck in this never ending lab. Wouldn’t be too bad if you were good with lab procedures. Or maybe if you had a less bitchy lab partner. You are staring intently at your lab book. 

“Hello? Earth to Baji-kun,” she spoke softly, giving you the side eye. “Are you ready to start the experiment?” God, you HATE how quiet she is. It's always a strain to hear her and it pisses you off.

“What?” you shake your focus off the book in front of you, “ Y-yeah. Let’s go”. You pull your goggles down from the top of your head. You start pulling materials out of your drawer.

“Do you even know what lab we are doing?” she chides you. 

“Yeah, the soap one,” you reply. 

“Wow,” she turns to you, mocking a gasp, “you’re right this time. So tell me why you are setting up the bunsen burner?” Her arms are crossed at her waist, hip popped. 

“Don’t we need it?” 

“No,” she sighs, “We are literally making soap with sodium hydroxide, potassium hydroxide, and a variety of fats. We don’t need a bunsen burner.” She slaps the match box out of your hand.

“Fuck off bitch,” you growl, “It was simple mistake, fuckin’ let it go.” 

“Then read your damned lab procedure!” She  whipped off her goggles. Now she was shouting at you. The whole lab went silent. 

“Oh, Mouse can squeak loudly! I actually heard yah this time,” You give her a sarcastic smile, flashing your canines. The lab was still, save for the authoritative click of heeled shoes.

“For fucks sake,” your partner massages her temples, “Here comes Professor Sato” 

Having the professor approach your table was never a good sign. “Baji-san, is there a problem?” Her tone was cool and collected. Professor Sato rarely showed emotion, very robotic like. 

“We just had a misunderstanding ma’am,” you sigh, “I set up some equipment I shouldn’t have.” 

“You two seem to have a lot of those. You’re my brightest VetMeds, you are gonna be working together a lot.” Sato said, “After the lab today, both of you need to come to my office”.

“Yes’m,” the two of you say in unison, looking at each other sheepishly.

“I know you two can do this,” Professor Sato smiled politely as she walked away to continue observing the lab. 

“I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” your partner said, back to her quiet self. A soft click came from the highlighter in her hand as she took your lab book.

“I shouldn’t have cussed at yah,” you said. She was busy with your book. “Whatcha doing in my book?” God she was annoying. 

“Highlighting and numbering what I want you to do,” she exhaled hard, “I am not doing all the work and having you get a decent grade off me.”

“Oh, thanks Mouse,” you also let out a long breath. Maybe this would be helpful? Maybe she wasn’t such a bitch.

“I’ll let that stupid nickname slide if it means we can get this over and done with,” she looks at you, over her cat eye glasses. To you, her eyes were dark pools of onyx, calculated with focus.”Look,” she pointed at the book, “I’m going to label three beakers with how much of the oils we need. Please go get our oils.” She quickly labels three beakers with Olive, Coconut, and Mystery. All three beakers had 15 oz written by the oil label. 

“Simple enough,” you reply, “be back in a bit.” You go to retrieve the warmed oils from the crock pot bar at the lab assistant’s desk. The return to your bench was slow, the beakers of oil were quite warm and you didn't want to drop them. “Oil, check.”

“Great, thanks” her tone was much more cheery now. She showed you her book, “I’m doing the steps in blue, if you can multitask, read while I do the steps.” 

“That’s a little condescending, donchya  think Mouse?” you retort to her direction. 

“Huh?”

“What you just told me to do.”

“Sorry, I figured you didn't actually read the lab. I have shit to do today and I want to get done. I don't get paid to babysit,” There was a vein of ice in her whisper. She was kneeling by the lab bench, measuring out sodium hydroxide. Though she did have a point, you didn’t read anything you were supposed to this week.

“I’m not the best with this shit,” you gesture to the book, “Would you mind, like, giving me a breakdown of what you’re doing?”  

“Sure,” she sighed, “I’m currently trying to measure our reagents by looking at the meniscus”. This continued for the duration of the lab. She’d ask you to complete the next pink number, then she’d tell you what she was doing. Occasionally, you’d write down numbers she’d call out or things you and she observed. Eventually, the two of you completed the saponification lab. All too soon, the two of you were standing in front of Professor Sato’s office. 

“Here goes nothin’” you said as the professor approached her door. 

“Welcome, come on in.” Was it possible for her to be human? Professor Sato’s office was bland. No pictures, no color, not even a periodic table. Just her desk, two chairs, a succulent, a wax melter, and several book cases full of texts, journals, and materials. Very minimalistic. “Please,” she ushered at the chairs, “Have a seat.”

You remain silent, with a twinge of guilt. Guilt. That's all that was in your mind. You knew better than to yell at a woman. Your mom raised you to be respectful to everyone, but especially women. Then you turned around and cussed out your lab partner. In front of the entire lab. And now you were in the professor's office. You felt bad, but she did technically start the whole ordeal. You just fought back.

“You wanted to see us Professor Sato?” Mouse asked. You could tell she was also not excited to be here. She fidgeted with the wrist banding of her sweater. 

“Yes,” your professor began, “Today’s outburst seems like it has been the worst of them this semester. I’ve been keeping the data.” She swivels her desk top monitor, showing a graph, “Your lab scores are encroaching on dismal. The two of you have to get your ducks in a row. As I mentioned, you two are my brightest VetMeds. I don’t want to see either of you struggle.” She shoots Mouse a soft look, “I know you struggle with teamwork in the lab. Besides that, your performance on tests is superb.” Mouse nods in acknowledgement. “However, as lab partners, both of your lab grades are suffering. And the lab is half your grade. I will permit you to resubmit all your reports from the first half of the semester for reconsideration and regrade. You must have all of them edited and turned in by the end of midterms next week.”

“I can agree to that,” Mouse replied. “We could set up a time to meet to do work this week,” she sounded rushed. “I do apologize but I have an appointment I have to get to. Baji-kun, here’s my number.  Text me and we can set up a study block.” You take the note with her number. Her penmanship was so crisp. 

“Very well, thank you for your cooperation. I’ll see you in lecture tomorrow,” Professor Sato breathed as Mouse closed the door. “As for you Baji-san,” her tone was a little more serious as she gave you the librarian stare, “You sir, are in danger of losing your scholarship. This class is paramount for veterinary medicine.”

“Yes’m,” your brows furrow, “I don’t know why the lab portion is so hard for me. I feel like I get everything else fairly well”. You are choking back tears. But you are Keisuke Baji, and there was no way in hell that you would cry in front of your professor. 

“Take a deep breath Baji-san,” Professor Sato sighed, “I have a proposition for you”. Your ears prick as your gaze meets hers. “The spring Fine Arts festival is starting tonight and one of the members of the VetMed cohort is involved.” She slid a flier towards you,”So if you go to each of these events and write about the performances, you can earn enough extra credit to bring up your lab grade, along with your edited lab reports.”

“You didn’t mention who I am supposed to support,” you mention, “How will I know if it's the right person?” 

“That's the fun part, the theme this semester is Masquerade. Staff know who is who. But the student body won’t know until the festival is over,” your professor smirked, “If you accept, I think you will be pleasantly surprised.” 

“I don’t really have a fu-choice, do I?” you ask, taking the flier off her desk.

“If you want to keep your scholarship.”

“Which I do,” you snort.

“Then you’ll be at the first event tonight. Might be helpful to have a friend go with you, you might want the data for your reviews,” When Professor Sato smiled, it kinda creeped you out. 

“Thank you for the opportunity Professor,” You bow to her and head out of her office with the flier. Your eyes fixated on a girl with long split dyed silver and black hair, gauzy black dress adorned with strappy navy blue harnesses, and a sparkling sapphire blue mask. She was beautiful and had gorgeous curves that were accented by those harness straps.

Come on, pick up. You were impatiently walking to your bike when you heard Chifuyu’s voice.

“Hey, What’s up Baji-kun?”

“I have to go to the fine art festival events this week for class. I might need help with paying attention since it's probably gonna be boring as hell. Wanna go?’ you finish tying down your school bag to your bike. 

“Yeah, sure. Gonna head home and then go back?” Chifuyu asks.

“Yup, see you in thirty,” you click off the call, fix your helmet to your head, and motor back to your apartment where your roommate was waiting. When you got home, you quickly ate some yakisoba, changed into your more relaxed street clothes and grabbed a notebook and pencil. 

“Woah, she yelled at you?” Chifuyu asks as you guys head towards your bike. 

You nod, “Yeah, and I cussed her out. So Professor Sato had us come to office hours to talk about how bad we acted. I’m in danger of losing my scholarship if we don’t turn it around.”

“No shit,” Chifuyu was surprised. He knew how much you didn’t like her. You wouldn't say you loathed her, but you weren’t gonna be best friends anytime soon. She was intimidating in a way, you were in all the same classes and the same major. With her being one of the top students, you had a rival for the first time in ages. This time, at least, you weren’t fighting with your fists. 

Chifuyu texts Kazutora to let him know you’d both be out late on campus. He shot back that he didn't really care but for you guys to be safe. It's hard to be unsafe at a fine arts show.

“What’s the show you have to go to?” Chifuyu asked on the way back to campus.

“It's a Masquerade vocal showcase,” you shrug, “Apparently, one of the participants is in my cohort. Professor Sato said she’d give me extra credit if I write some reviews.” Luckily the ride to and from campus isn't too long. You were able to find a good place to park and flashed your student IDs at the door person as they handed you each a program. 

“I’ve heard about these masquerade events,” Chifuyu mused as you walked into the recital space, “Sounds like it could be fun.” He picked the direct center of the hall for the two of you to sit. They were the best seats, you had a great view and could easily observe anything that happened. 

You flipped through the pamphlet. There were bios and descriptions of each number that was being performed tonight. The girl from the flier stuck in your mind, so you quickly found her section, she was going by the moniker “Siren”. She was in your year, but there was no mention of her major. They gave a few of her interests; cats, video games and vibing to classic rock. She’s hot and a cat lover too,  you smiled. One of her selections tonight was dedicated to her late grandfather; Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again from Phantom of The Opera. The other was from Hairspray, I Can Hear the Bells. 

Soon the house lights flickered, then they dimmed off. A first year stepped out of the wings to the stage, introducing herself as the master of ceremonies for the evening and asking everyone to turn their phones off. “Welcome everyone to our first ever Masquerade showcase. As you see in our program, all of our talented performers will not be showing their faces to you tonight while they are on stage.” A chorus of “ooh” and “aah” came from the audience, and she continued, “To find out who these amazing artists are, you will have to come back  for all performances you can and then the reveal will be Friday night”. A short round of thundering applause followed her statement. “Alright, without further ado, I present to you Solo Broadway Night and our first performer, Siren.”

As the MC left the stage, all but one spot light went out on the center of the stage. Her entrance was so quiet, you would have thought it was your lab partner. Soft piano, a recording of woodwinds, and standing chimes started to play and as she stepped into the light, that picture on the flier did not do her justice. Softly at first standing in the spotlight, she sings, “I can hear the bells, Well don’t yah hear ‘em chime? Can’t you feel my heartbeat keeping perfect time, and all because he…”  the long notes swelling with what you perceived was the characters love for someone. 

Then Siren became suddenly animated as the tempo picked up, lights warmed the stage, and she flitted about, the gauzy dress flowing like smoke while she moved. Then bumping hips with the chime player as she hit the lyric about being knocked off her feet. Her song continues, like she's conversing with her best friends about the boy she likes and how she’s gonna marry him. “I can hear the bells, I can hear the bells,” she locks eyes with the person operating her spotlight, like she’s looking into the clouds. Even though she wasn't looking at you, your heart damn near stops as that last note ends with a sigh.

She accepts her applause. Her chest is heaving, maybe from the thrill of performing or maybe she was super nervous about the song resonating with the audience. She bows and takes her leave of the stage. The MC girl comes back and introduces the next singer. As she speaks, you furiously jot down notes. Ignoring the other  performances, you fill three pages. Chifuyu looks over at you, bewildered. “Dude, what are you doing?” he whispers

“I know who i’m writing about for my reviews,” you return the whisper. The MC girl came back again, announcing a 10 minute intermission. You take the moment to get up, grab a drink of water, and crack your back. While in the break, you see Emma and Hinata coming out of the art gallery with Draken and Stuipdmitchy. You make eye contact and wave. They return the wave and head out of the building. Then you hear that click of authoritative heels. 

“Baji-san,” Profession Sato greeted you. 

“Professor,” you respond. It felt wrong to see her outside of class. It always feels weird to see your professors in public.

“Enjoying the showcase?” She asks so coolly.

“Much more than I thought I would so far,” you scratch your head, trying to be nonchalant. 

“That’s what I thought. These students put in the same amount of work our academic students do,” She beamed, “Its beautiful to see what people are capable of.”

“Yeah,” you smirk, “To think one of these people is in my cohort. They must not sleep or eat.”

“You never know,” she smiles at you, “Enjoy the rest of the show. Don’t forget to contact your lab partner Baji-san.” She pats your shoulder and takes her leave, back to her seat. You follow suit and Chifuyu talks your ear off about the other performers until the house lights dim again. 

The MC comes back, reminding everyone to silence their phones and announcing that the second half of the show will be in reverse order, meaning that Siren would be closing out the evening. To be honest, you’re kinda annoyed that she's last now. You really wanted to see her and then leave, but you now have to sit through the other five performers. Maybe you’ll space out a bit, maybe you’ll doodle in your notebook. 

Spoiler alert: you didn’t space out. While the other singers weren’t who you wanted to hear, these performances in the second half were something to behold. Each singer had picked a scene to fully act out. Shit, you think as these brilliant scenes play out before you. 

“All right, Thank you so much for coming tonight,” the MC begins, “Our last scene performed by Siren will begin here shortly.” There was a quiet shuffle in the darkness behind the MC. As she exited the stage, all the lights went dark save for a tiny little light illuminating the piano in the pit. 

“You were once,” there’s that voice, but it's not on the stage. Siren is slowly processing through the audience, “My lone companion. You were all that mattered.” You turn in your seat to watch her cross behind the back most row. “You were once a friend and father,”  she was passing your seat, her cape brushed against your leg. 

The softest whiff of roses caught in your nose, “Then my world was shattered.” She's ascending the steps to the stage with her hood down. She has a bouquet of flowers and the lights come up on an altar for, who you can safely assume is, her grandfather. 

She started into the chorus and chills went down your spine. In the next verse, she sits next to the altar only briefly, coming to the end of the verse, “Too many years, fighting back tears.”  Then she stands, violently tossing the flowers down, “Why can’t the past just die.” You could hear her choking back grief, and pain. She literally was putting her ache into this.

She glides to the side of the altar, singing the final chorus. “Help me say,”  she slowly pulled the hood up, “goodbye.” Her hand lightly caressed the picture and the lights went black. When the lights came back up, you shot out of your seat to applaud. You were followed by Chifuyu and soon the rest of the theater. The one standing ovation of the night went to her.  She’s taking her bows and you can see tears streaming down her face from behind the mask she wears.

“Holy shit,” Chifuyu says, his eyes wide. 

“Tell me about it,” you reply. Slowly but surely, the theater empties. You and Chifuyu decide to wait a bit so the traffic dies down. You sit there filing out your notebook and asking your best friend if there was anything he thought you needed to add. You’d type it up in one big paper later. While you waited, you turned your phone back on and sent a text to your lab partner.

KB: Hey Mousey, You free tomorrow afternoon? I’m done after chem. Lunch and lab reports?  

Mouse: Fucking seriously? It’s 10:30 pm, you ass. But sure, that works. My only class is chem. 

KB: Alright. Night bitch.

Mouse: Fuck you.

You smiled while looking at your phone. “What or who are you smiling at?” Chifuyu pokes at you.

“Just getting told off by Mouse again,” you click your screen off. 

“What did you do now?” he asks.

“Apparently, texting her at ten thirty,” you smirk.

“That tracks for you and her,” Chifuyu laughs, “Looks like it's thinned out. We should go.”

“I’m fuckin’ tired,” you yawn, walking out of the performance space. The ride home felt like it went real quick like. Maybe it was the thoughts in your head, images of that mystery girl belting her heart out. It was probably because it was ten forty when you headed home and the roads were clear. You get home at eleven, you go right to your room. Laying down, you are pleasantly haunted by Siren’s last performance as you start to drift off into sleep.

Dividers by @benkeibear​

© All works belong to musingsinmountains. Please do not pirate my work onto other platforms.  Support my releases with likes or reblogs on Tumblr and Kudos on AO3. Please support the official release of Tokyo Revengers

#Keisuke Baji #Baji keisuke #Baji x reader #tokyo Revengers #Tokyo Revengers Fic #tokyorev x reader #Tokyo Revengers fluff #tokyo revengers angst #Masquerade

[slyveonwrites]

i. please please please do not interact with my account if you’re under the age of seventeen. this blog is probably going to be focused around sexually explicit / mature content, and having a younger audience view my writing makes me a little uncomfortable.

ii. if you decide to drop a request/commission me, i’m pretty much okay writing about every topic! however, there are a few things that i absolutely won’t write about, those being scat, pedophilia/age play, and alpha/beta/omega verse. i reserve the right to refuse anything i feel i can not do justice out of respect.

iii. as of now, i will accept requests on an inspiration standpoint. i'm really tight money wise, and so i will focus on getting commissions out in a timely manner.

iv. i will give any character a shot at writing, however, i am quite rust on male ! reader and mlm so please be gentle as i work on it. i do have a preference for afab bodies, but will write anything.

v. this is the obvious one, but don’t interact if you’re racist, homophobic, transphobic, xenophobic, antisemitic, just fuck off if you are a republican or a 4chan asshole.

FANDOMS

One Piece, Demon Slayer, Jujutsu Kaisen, Genshin Impact

DOs

x reader, f/gn!reader, oc x character, ships, rare pairs, crossover, mature, explicit, LGBT+, NSFW, fluff, angst, death, AUs, ask first in regards to dark content ♡

DONTs

minors, pedophilia, scat, necrophilia, non-con, abuse, vore

COMMISSION INFORMATION BELOW

I reserve the right to refuse a commission.

Due to my horrid schedule and even worse fluctuating inspiration, I will only take five commissions at a time so I can give my full effort and not rush. For others hoping to commission me, a waiting list will be available.

You will get a rough draft in the form of bullet points, to make sure I'm on the right path.

After the final piece is sent, the client may request minor revisions ( spelling/formatting/punctuation ). Major revisions, depending on the greatness of the revision, may cost extra. 

The final work will be posted on my tumblr and/or sent in PDF / Epub / docs format via email. You may repost it wherever you want (as long as it is for non-commercial use only) but you may not remove the byline that includes a link back to my blog (i.e written by Maokomi.) If you prefer that I don’t post it to my social media, please feel free to say so!

Completion time varies according to details of the commission + my own personal circumstances. Expect about 2-7 days (or more) completion time, depending on these factors.

Feel free to ask for updates, but please try not to make them too frequent!

Please be open to any questions I may have! I want to make this as best as I can for you, and sometimes I may need to ask for details or clarification.

If you have any ideas or scenes or prompts or whatever that you would like me to use as inspiration for the work, please feel free to tell me! They can be super helpful in knowing what kind of vibe you’d like :D the more details / points in the story you have in mind, the better !! moodboard for your oc? hand it over. a fic you read 3 years ago and what something inspired by it? give it. you get my picture.

That being said, please also manage your expectations! If you pay for only 100 words, do not give me so many points or details as if you expect me to write 1k+ words and then be angry when i leave some things out :))

1.) PRICE ; every 500 words will be $5 (i.e. 1000 words will be $10, 1500 words will be $15, etc.)

2.) PAYMENT METHOD ; cashapp . paypal .

3.) CONTACT ; you may message me through dms on this blog to request . please give me the character you want, a name for y/n, and the amount of words you desire . once i accept your commission , i will invite you into a small private server, where we'll discuss the important details.

4.) LIMITS ; i will write anything besides scat, race play, age play/pedophilia, and alpha/beta/omega dynamics. i do reserve the right to refuse.

thank you for taking the time to read this! examples can be found via my roleplay blog for now.

#writing commissions #emergency commissions #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kny x reader #one piece x reader #genshin impact x reader

[fairyfuyu]

breakfast for the birthday boy | eren x reader

cw: nsfw 18+ lazy morning sex over the kitchen counter, size kink (?), use of pet name princess, unprotected sex, creampie, oral (f receiving), cum eating

wc: 1k ish

a/n: for sure unedited. if u see any mistakes, no u didnt. wrote this while my mom was in the shower because i just couldn’t get over what @fuwushiguro posted this morning about eren n …. i love him

today was eren’s birthday.

you had managed to miraculously roll out of bed without waking the boy, prying yourself from his arm that always finds itself wrapped around your waist at some point in the night.

tip-toeing out of your shared bedroom, you pulled a sweater over your naked form, skipping out on throwing on a pair of panties. you entered the kitchen, carefully pulling out various pans and dishes that you would need to make your boyfriend some breakfast, treating him to a slow morning since he rarely allows himself to indulge in those ever since he started his new job.

while the eggs were slowly cooking on the stove, you grabbed the carton of fresh strawberries you picked up at the farmer’s market yesterday. after washing them, you spilling them out onto your chopping board, grabbing a knife and removing the leaves and taking the extra step to cut them into little hearts; it was tedious, but any time you did this for eren he just had this sparkle in his eye that was so rare, so innocent. smiling at the mere thought of your man, you missed the quiet footsteps of his making their way towards you.

and then, his arms wrapped around you once more, his tall frame towering over you and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. “there’s my girl,” he said into your hair, the morning grogginess evident in his tone. you couldn’t see him, but you were sure his eyes were fluttered shut right now, still sleepy as always and messy hair framing his face perfectly. “why don’t you come back to bed, princess?”

“thought i could treat my birthday boy to some breakfast in bed,” you explained, continuing your delicate work on the strawberries.

he dropped his head down to your neck and peppering light kisses over your skin. “as much as i love those strawberry heart, i can think of another way you could’ve treated me to breakfast in bed.”

you chuckled at his words, “well, i already started on this, so i guess you’ll have to wait on that one.”

smiling against your skin, you felt him grind his already hard dick against your ass, letting you know what was on his mind right now was definitely not the breakfast you were whipping up for him. his fingers dipped to the bottom of your sweater, pushing the material out of the way and effortlessly finding your exposed pussy. “no panties? god, you’re killing me, princess.”

two fingers dragged themselves down in between your wet folds; you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t thinking about lazy morning sex with your boyfriend this entire time. “my girl is a liar, acting all coy when she’s always dripping for my cock, huh?”

he rubbed languid circles against your clit, causing your legs to buckle at the sudden wave of pleasure that surged through you. “eren, the eggs will burn,” you cautioned.

he was swift, bringing the hand away from your heat and switching the stove off so there was nothing to worry about. “feel better, princess?” he asked, shoving his sweats down and freeing his hard dick from the confines.

you sighed as his rubbed his swollen head against your folds, tilting his hips into you. the stretch of your walls from his thick cock never got old; no matter how many times he fucked you dumb, you felt just as tight each time to him. “feels s’good, princess,” he groaned lowly, slowly thrusting in and out of you.

his large hands gripped the flesh of your hips over the bruises from last night, but you didn’t care about the slight pain. the feeling of his rutting his dick into you over and over again, the lewd sounds of his balls slapping up against you with every thrust filling the small apartment, it all had that coil winding in your stomach. “shit, ‘ren…” you moaned, gripping the countertop hard to try and stabilize yourself.

but your boyfriend continued pounding into you, his head resting against your should and hot breath fanning over your skin. “gettin’ close, princess,” he sighed, dropping a hand down to your heat and rubbing circles against your clit once more. he could tell from the way you were clenching around him that you, too, were close to reaching your high. “cum around my cock,” he moaned your name right into your ear. “show me how good i’m making you feel,”

and so, you allowed yourself to unwind around his length, juices spilling out of your hole as your weak legs shook. “god, rennie, ‘m cumming,” you whined, throwing your head back against his shoulder.

you turned your head to look at your dazed boyfriend as he continued to fuck you; his hazy eyes opened to look at your fucked out frame in front of him, and his lips collided with yours in a messy kiss. his groaned into your mouth as he came, shooting his seed deep into your pussy, a warmness washing over the both of you.

his hips stilled before he pulled out, watching his cum drip out of your hole and down the sides of your thighs. before you could say a word, he was on his knees, attaching his mouth to your sensitive cunt and licking up his orgasm from you. you moaned aloud as his tongue dove into your pussy, removing it only to lick the cum that had ran down your leg.

once he was finished eating, he rose to his full height and spun you around, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “now, how about my other breakfast?”

tags: @momobuns @tokyosghoul @toallmyhusbandos

#anyways #eren smut #eren jaeger smut #eren yeager smut #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #aot #aot smut #aot x reader #eren drabble #not sfw #honey writes

[miekasa]

1+1 (levi ackerman)

↯ pairing: levi ackerman x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au, fluff...... again....... is it getting boring and predictable yet lmao, once again the dog’s name is captain and no i do not regret it

↯ word count: 2.5k

↯ summary: levi ackerman is a cuddler, don’t let anybody tell you otherwise. (aka me once again pushing my physical affection is levi’s love language agenda because he’s a poor, touch-starved little man).

i. the lap pillow: person A sits upright, while person B rests their head in person A’s lap. head pets and hair playing option, but highly encouraged.

Levi spent an obnoxious amount of time picking out the perfect couch for his apartment. He might have paid a little bit more than what he’d originally budgeted for, but it was worth it; his soft, plush couch and accompanying cushions were equally comfortable and beautiful, matching the interior of his living room, and posing at the perfect nap spot when Levi was too tired to make it to the bed, or wanted to lounge around with Captain for a while.

Or, well, it used to be worth it. Because now, Levi would rather lay his head on your lap than on his stupid, expensive couch and all its cushions.

Sure, the couch still provides comfort or refuge for the rest of his body, a comfy cavern to stretch his limbs or crash on after a long day, but with you there, all the benefits go to his head; literally, because when his head is in your lap, you stroke his face, comb through his hair, pad your thumb against his lips—whatever, Levi doesn’t really fucking care, because all of it is heavenly.

“Do you want to go to bed?” you question softly, hand raking through Levi’s hair. He’s lying on his back, not even pretending to have been watching the TV, as to let you have maximum access to his hair and face.

“No,” he says shortly, shifting his foot around to allow for your yorkie puppy to curl up at the other end of the couch, “Comfortable here.”

You try to hide the chuckle from escaping your lips. Levi certainly wasn’t shy about how much he liked your affections, especially within the closed walls of his apartment; but it always amused you just how simultaneously clipped, yet clingy he could be about it.

“Your neck is going to hurt, love,” you tell him, slowly moving your right hand from his hair to trace along his eyebrow, then down his cheek.

Levi huffs, ever so slightly. Then, gently, turns on his side, rotating his body and head, so that his cheek is now pressed along your thigh, legs curled up to his stomach, allowing Captain more space to curl into a ball at the base of Levi’s feet. He bends his arms, both coming to rest on your thighs as well, just an inch from his face.

“It’s fine like this,” he grumbles, voice thick with sleep—and a bit of frustration, because you’ve ceased playing with his hair at this point, “I’m going to take a nap, don’t move.”

You can help your laughter from escaping, “I don’t really have a choice, now do I?”

He hums in affirmation, shifting around just a bit to his comfort. You smile at the way he wiggles his toes, Captain taking it as an invitation to snuggle closer to Levi. You rest your right hand against Levi’s shoulder, lightly massaging his muscles as to not disturb his drifting to sleep, and resume your focus on the TV ahead of you.

Just when you’d thought Levi was on his way to falling asleep, he lets out a discontented grunt, moving his arm backwards to grab at your wrist, and with gentle, but firm force, moves your hand that was massaging his shoulder to the top of his head. He says nothing, only moves his hand back to its previous position, and once again shifts to readjust his napping position.

You get the message, and with a wide smile, you carefully begin to thread your fingers through his hair again; and with a satisfied purr, Levi snuggles his head into your lap, and finally drifts off to sleep.

ii. the half spoon/chest rest: person A lays flat on their back, while person B curls into their side, laying their head on person A’s chest.

Levi rarely falls asleep before you do, so he’s had quite a bit of time to observe your sleep habits—as non-creepily as possible, of course.

You’re a pretty normal sleeper—again, not that he spends his time watching other people sleep, or anything—but you do have your own quirks; most of which Levi finds endearing on some level or another. Like the way you always have to have a minimum of three pillows on your side of the bed, even if you don’t sleep with all three of them at the same time. And the way your arms subconsciously curl up, usually around a pillow if Levi isn’t there, or even around yourself if there’s no object for you to grasp.

One of your sleeping ticks he isn’t particularly fond of is the way you move around. Not sporadically, and thankfully, not to a point that leaves you sprawled across the mattress at an obscure angle, but just… around. He especially hates when you roll away from him, because you usually roll away and never roll back.

Which is why Levi is generally fond of cuddling positions in which he’s holding you, as to make sure you don’t, quite literally, roll out of his arms. Because nothing pisses Levi off more than waking up and realizing you’ve rolled away and taken to snuggling against your pillow instead of him. He’s much better than a pillow. Warmer, too. Not mention, a real, actual human being.

Right now, you’re tucked almost expertly into Levi’s right side, head laying on his chest, your right arm over his stomach, hand just barely tickling the exposed skin from his shirt riding up. Levi likes the feeling of your shallow exhales rippling against his shirt, and the warmth of your cheek pressed against his chest.

He’s about to fall asleep himself, when he feels you shuffling, and oh no, not on his watch. Before the worst can happen, Levi secures his right arm over your shoulder, as to hold you against him. The urge to roll seems to leave you then, the only movement is of your right arm, which you bend at the elbow, now laying your palm against his pecs.

Levi exhales, content. Now he can sleep peacefully. Well, almost. There’s one more thing he likes about this position, and it’s his ability to use his free hand to reach down, scoop under your knee and drape your leg across his waist—and he does so happily; smiling to himself as you subconsciously burrow yourself further into his side.

Much better, Levi thinks, letting his eyelids flutter shut. It was time for bed, after all, and he had a feeling he’d be waking up warm and cozy in the morning.

iii. full contact cuddle: person A sits or lays on their back, while person B rests almost directly on top of them.

“I don’t get why you like this so much,” you say, words mumble, as you shimmy up Levi’s body to lay your cheek against his chest, “How do you possibly benefit from this?”

If you asked Levi, this was probably his favorite way to cuddle. Something about having almost all of your body weight on top of him, your head against his chest, and his arms wrapped completely around you just made him feel warm, and cozy, and content. Plus, the added bonus of you laying directly on top of his dick.

He could say all of that, but instead he opts for a minimal hum, and, a simple, “It’s warm.”

“Yeah, because you’re warm, Levi,” you point out, but burrow into his skin anyway. You’re not exactly complaining, laying on Levi is nice; especially a shirtless Levi, with how warm his body runs. And, well, for other reasons, too.

Once again, you’re met with a non-committal hum. Levi just holds you for a bit, listening for the way your breathing slows and evens out, feeling for signs of your body slowing down against his.

After a while, he shifts his arms, moving so that they’re no longer stacked atop each other, but with his palms both resting against your back, creeping under your shirt. “It’s the weight,” he replies carefully, moving his right hand to rub against your skin, “It feels nice.”

“The weight?” you question, lifting your head to look at him, your chin poking into his chest. Levi looks down to meet your eyes, a small nod in reassurance.

“I can’t… explain it,” he tells you truthfully, “I just like the feeling of you against me. It’s not symbolic or any shit like that, it just, feels good. Sometimes feels like we’re… I don’t know, connected or some shit. I can feel you breathe when I breathe, and all that.”

It’s a poor explanation, and nothing close to what he wants to be able to convey, but you understand him anyways; you always do. You have to hold back your overgrown smile, just barely letting the corners of your lips turn upwards at Levi’s response. You extend your neck briefly to place a short kiss against his jaw, before turning to head to lay back on his chest.

“No, I get it,” you reassure him, snuggling against him for extra measure, “Feels nice to just know you’re there.”

Levi hums in affirmation, his hand squeezing at your waist affectionately—a silent thank you for being able to read between his lines. You lay like that for a while, your exhales tickling against Levi’s bare chest, while his hands massage at your back.

“Besides,” he says, his hands slowly venturing down past your waist; he squeezes at your hips, adjusting you so that your center is directly on top of his, and encouraging you to lift your upper half, so that you’re looking down at him, a full view of the wicked smile on his face, “I kind of have a thing for you being on top of me.”

iv. the seated snuggle: person A sits upright, maybe slouched a bit, while person B cuddles into their side; a hand wrapped around A’s waist or arm, and B’s head resting against A’s shoulder.

Levi likes his alone time, but even when he’s focusing on himself, he’s acutely in tune with you and your emotions. And to be honest with himself, he spends a lot of his alone time thinking about you—consciously or not, you find a way into his brain, and Levi has long since accepted that you’re a permanent, and very welcome presence in his life, one that can be more powerful and enjoyable that his own solitude.

Even when he’s sitting on the couch, right leg bent and tucked under his left at the knee, a book Hange had recommended in his hand, with a shitty hospital drama playing as background noise on the television; even then, when he’s relaxing and enjoying his novel, he purposefully feels out your presence and gauges your emotions.

Though, if you asked him, it shouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to understand that you were feeling a little out of it today—maybe not quite sad, but moving a bit slower, perhaps tired, or annoyed by your day at work—despite the cheery lilt in your voice. But Levi knew, he could feel it, that something was off; but he could also feel that this something wasn’t getting talked about today, or that, perhaps you just didn’t have the words to express it right now. 

Levi greets you as he would when you come through the door, tilts his head up when you lean down to give him a kiss, and lets you pad into your bedroom to change and shower. You shuffle around after that, making your way to the kitchen to reheat the dinner he’d cooked earlier, and flitter between your bedroom and the living room after that.

And Levi knows; he knows that you want to talk to him, but that you wouldn’t dare to interrupt his alone-time, because you know how important it is to him. What you fail to understand is that you’re just as, if not more, important to him because you give him space.

So, Levi waits until you’re hovering by the doorway of the living room again, and then, without looking up from his book, silently opens and extends his left arm. He counts three seconds before you come shuffling over to him, wasting no time tucking yourself into his side, and resting your head on his shoulder. Levi hums when he feels your cheek press into his neck, and wraps his arm securely around you.

“Long day?” he questions, eyes still on his book, but reading at a marginally slower pace now.

Your eyes flutter shut at the question, working harder to snuggle yourself into Levi, wrapping your arms around his waist, “The longest.”

Levi hums, finishing his page, and tucking the ear to mark his spot before closing his book. He turns his head to press a kiss into your forehead, and pulls you a little closer against him. “It’s over now, I’ve got you.”

v. the times together/pretzel: person A rests with back against a wall/couch/object, and person B mirrors their positions; both A and B’s legs are intertwined, while they look at each other.

Levi will only take a bath after he’s showered, because there’s no appeal in sitting in your own wet dirt. That being said, post-shower baths with you are something he looks forward to, especially after a long, drawn out work week.

You both sit facing each other, legs bent and intertwined, your empty champagne glasses resting on the tiled floor beside the tub. Levi lets you make bubble beards on his face, and smiles as you splash them away and placate it all with a crescendo of kisses.

“I love you,” you smile between presses of your lips, the palms of your hands squishing Levi’s cheeks together—and he just lets you, because he loves you.

Levi thinks it’s his turn now, though he has no interest in bubble beards, or mohawks, simply mirroring your actions to cup your face with his hands, pull you closer, a whisper on your lips.

Wet thumbs pad against your cheeks, and Levi thinks that even like this, with only the flicker of candle flames illuminating your face, that you’re beautiful, and the best thing he’s ever gotten the opportunity to love and care for in his life.

So he lets you know, “And I love you.” And he means it; and you know he does.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #aot fluff #levi ackerman fluff #levi ackerman smut #eren x reader

[florencwrites]

ignoring is bliss 〚technoblade〛

in which [reader] struggles with her lover's inconsequent affection, and a good talk is unfortunately inevitable; the silent treatment has never worked well with techno.

"I don't know what you want me to say." His back had still been turned towards me at this point, the rake heavy in my hands as I tried using it to steady myself in the muddy stable. He kept loading dirty plucks of hay onto his pitchfork, the thinly lined buttoned shirt he was wearing easily letting his back muscles shine through.

I stood silently behind him, deliberating my words thoroughly. I hated when he acted like this, I absolutely despised him. He was one of the smartest men I'd ever had the pleasure of meeting, however, the second things went sideways conversation-wise he always played it painfully personally. He would start correcting my grammar or suggest synonyms for otherwise satisfactory sentences. "I don't either."

"I guess that marks the end of this conversation." He turned around to dump his gathered muck in the makeshift wheelbarrow Phil had built us. His face was hard, his brows furrowed and his features lax. He seemed indifferent, his attitude scaring me to pieces.

"Tech, please." I tried, putting one of my hands up to gesture for him to stop walking. He was now barely lifting the barrow from the ground, ready to head off to the dump. He huffed, his eyes meeting the floor as he put the wagon down. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

"I'm sorry," I muttered softly.

He ducked to grip his hands around the handles again, lifting it from the ground. His knuckles were white where they held onto the leather-covered grips. "Speak up."

"I want to have a conversation with you, okay? Stop acting so fucking stuck up and talk to me." His shoulder brushed past mine as he exited the stables, my voice was high in emotions, definitely on the verge of breaking with desperation.

He snorted. "I'll listen to whatever you have to say when you've calmed down."

-

"He won't talk to me, Phil." I groaned almost obnoxiously loud, taking a sip of water to wash down both my dinner and my agitation. "You know how he gets."

"All pissy? Tell me about it." He chuckled softly, his forearm shielding his bowl from my sight. He shoveled another spoonful of beef stew into his mouth. Phil and I had never been extraordinarily close, he reckoned Techno and me to be undeserving of each other. A terrible pair. And perhaps we were, at times like this I couldn't help but doubt whether or not we truly were the destined lovers we often thought ourselves to be. "I'll bring him some food later."

I laughed at him, a father at heart. A father to anyone but his actual sons, really. A playful grin on my lips, "You're an enabler, Phil."

-

That night I crawled into an empty bed. One I hadn't even doubted would be just that; empty. He was weak like that, he'd do anything to avoid conflict. Whether that was because he was afraid of what his blinding rage fits would conjure, or whether he was just an impotent coward. Someone who didn't know how to act around uncertainty and immorality and thus resorted to blaming everything on his treacherous temper.

The sheets still smelled of him, I held them to my nose.

There was no reason for us to fight, I hadn't meant to start one. I simply wanted him to realize how different he acted towards me when surrounded by any crowd. He acted so distant it made me doubt not only us, but myself. My heart ached anytime he pulled his hand away from where I tried leaving him a subtle touch. My skin crawled when he no longer referred to me by the mild, but unmissably warm names he had for me.

However, nothing would ever hurt me as much as meeting his eyes in a room of our friends and seeing the love seep from his irises. Physically witnessing his affection turn into nothing short of mere acquaintance.

Everyone knew us. There was no reason for him to act so cold, so distant. Though, I also recognized that perhaps there was an underlying reason. One I simply hadn't thought of, or perhaps one that I couldn't ever imagine. One that he had retained from his troublesome past.

The thing is, it hurt me to think he didn't trust me enough with his reasoning. That he didn't want to tell me about his thoughts. I'd been extremely careful and meticulous with any information he'd granted me, I was sure to never let what he told me change my opinion of him. I vowed to never look at him any different.

So, why could he not promise me the same?

-

There was no point in pushing myself from my sheets the next morning. I knew how long his episodes usually lasted, I wouldn't even have to try talking to him for at least two more days. Normally, I'd try, though. I'd sit in the grass right next to where he was working outside, just talking to him about anything and everything I could think of. Back then I thought for his silence to mean confusion, I thought his swirling mind simply needed a break. That a distraction would do him good.

I sat in the barely-molten grass for hours, never getting a reply.

His smell was constricting my airways slowly, every inhale making it harder and harder to breathe. What if Phil was right, what if he truly didn't love me, or not anymore at least? What if it was all an act to have a warm body to fall asleep next to, to have an extra set of hands around the cottage.

I kicked at the sheets, desperate to get them away from me, to get them from clinging to my sweaty body. I only tangled my legs further into the mess. The bed creaked loudly against the wooden floor of the attic, a gust of wind running through a small gap in the roof.

I shot up, finally being able to rid my body of the sheets. I huffed a few times, the annoyance getting the better of me. I slung my legs over the side of the bed, now just sitting on the wooden frame, letting my eyes wander over the walls. The pictures of us that were tightly tacked to the planks, photos of our favorite pets and our best of friends. Photos of us with Phil and Tommy, and even a stray photo of me and Wilbur, back when we were kids.

My gaze found its way towards the singular window behind our bed, the only one of two walls that weren't entirely slanted. His red robe stood out like a sore thumb in the feeble blanket of slushy snow that had been slowly accumulating over the course of the night. Summer was officially over once again, and the cold would soon make it so we could no longer afford to sleep alone.

He rarely wore his robe outside of special occasions, he usually would simply opt for one of his brown ones. One was trimmed with a thick deer fur, the leather on it sure to keep all frost out. The other one was his summer one, the more dirty one of the two. It was always stained with blood, since it would also be the one he went hunting with. He disliked hunting in the winter, the harsh winds and easily discernible prints made it no fun, according to him. He stacked up during the summer, drying his meats to allow them to be kept safe for months, if not years.

But now he was wearing his red robe, lined with the finest of polar bear fur. The one that had the special compartments for his potions, and the one I had sown a totem into. For good luck. He rarely wore it for any occasion but war.

He pushed himself from the ground, turning around swiftly; the velocity making his cape whisk dramatically up in the wind. His eyes seemed fixated on the ground until they unwarrantedly shot up to the window I was sitting at. Any other day, I would've averted my gaze. Not now. He knew I was staring, and he was allowed to know so. I held my eyes on him until his feet carried him out of sight, into the house. I sighed softly, I felt entirely forlorn without him, without his caring hands and loving eyes. I let myself fall back into the bed, cuddling the sheets once again as I curled away from the entrance. I reckoned he would have to change out of his robe soon, and I didn't want to face him when he did.

-

I heard the front door slam, and as predicted the rungs of the many ladders soon creaked in his hold. The worn, practically ancient, trapdoor was pushed ajar behind me. I couldn't be bothered to turn to meet his eyes. However, instead of quietly changing out of his clothes, I felt the bed dip. He sat on the side of it, much alike to how I had found myself just minutes before.

"I don't like feeling weak." His voice was rougher than usual, it kept its usual monotone aura, but for some reason, it felt more emotional than ever before. He cleared his throat as if to try and mask it, to no avail, "I don't love you any less."

I shifted in the bed, though, he quickly stopped me, "Don't look at me, that just makes it harder."

I obliged. He let out a trembling sigh, taking his sweet time to deliberate his next words, "Sometimes we are outside together and I'm afraid that when they see how much I care about you, they will realize that you make me weak." I stared at the wall, still curled into the blankets. I wanted nothing more than to hold his face, look at him as he spoke. Instead, I had to make do with the pictures of his face plastered on the wood. His pointy, flappy ears and peaked nose. The two sharp-looking fangs set in the corners of his lips, ones that seemed to disappear when he smiled. He didn't like smiling for pictures, I didn't have a single one of the two of us together where he smiled. The only ones that showed his beautiful pearly whites were the ones that had me behind the camera, something I only then realized might've not been a coincidence.

"It scares me to think they could hurt you for loving me, that's why I don't like holding your hand in town." I shot a quick look over my shoulder, his back was slouched over, his head in his hands with his elbows propped on his knees. He wasn't crying, he simply seemed lost."I never realized that what scares me even more is the idea of you not loving me at all."

I slowly crept from under the sheets as his words fell silent. I crawled over towards where he was sat, near the foot-end of the bed. I took one of his hands from where he had rested his face on it and pulled it out of the way.

I snaked my arms around his neck, pulling my body into his. I draped my legs over his lap as I held him. His built arms felt tender against my exposed back, however, he held me tight. He squeezed softly as another quivering breath escaped his lips. We sat in embrace for a while.

"That's all I asked for, Tech." I smiled into his neck. "I just wanted to talk, that wasn't so hard, now, was it?"

"Shut up." He playfully tried pushing me away from his torso, underestimating the power of my cling. "You know I hate it when you call me that."

#angst #fluff #fight #argument #technoblade #oneshot #one shot #kit harington imagine #florenc #dreamsmp #dream smp #dsmp #dteam #dream team #dreamteam #dreamwastaken #dream #sapnap #georgenotfound #wilbur soot #wilbursoot #fanfic #fanfiction #youtube] #twitch #mcyt #minecraft #au

[spice-chan]

Legally Incapsulated

yandere!Bakugou Katsuki x darling!reader

In a different, dystopian world, yanderes are allowed to run rampant and they make up 15 percent of the population. It gets a little interesting when Bakugou, a protective yandere falls for you, a taken darling. 

warnings: dystopian society (ig?), yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, reader has a bit of an early stockholm syndrome kinda thing, blood and near death, captivity. 

also hi, i came back from the undead with an update. 

.........

Bakugou laid on the ground, bleeding profusely, cold and alone. The red liquid soaked through his clothes, painting him as an ugly manifestation of destruction and death. However, he did not welcome the latter yet, clinging to-hanging tooth and nail to the threads of life.

What cruel irony. To be dumped somewhere so public, yet at a time when no one would bother to come. To have the Hero hanging onto the hope that someone would visit the park at three in the fucking morning. 

A brutal fight between him and a particularly vicious villain ended in Katsuki suffering not only the humiliation of defeat but injuries that will do him in soon enough from blood loss. All alone, with no back-up, Katsuki suffered possibly the worst defeat of his life, for it might cost him that very same thing. Fucker attacked him after he finished his night shift too when no reporters or anyone would be around, knocking Katsuki out and dumping him in a public park just for the mockery of it. 

His head felt light and doozy, and he was starting to succumb to the feeling sucking him in when he heard a gasp amidst the fog. 

With what little stamina he has left, he turned around, sharp red eyes spotting a petite woman heading towards him. 

You quickly got to his spot beneath a tree, crouching down and inspecting him, your warm eyes becoming horrified at the blood pool. 

“Oh no, what happened here?! No matter. I’m going to call an ambulance. You’re going to be ok.” You reassured, or tried to, for the words coming out of your mouth could only be taken as self-assurance when one notices the dampness of your eyes. He tried to concentrate on what you were doing, but the next time he was aware of what was happening around him was when you clutched his hand tight with tears streaming down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna be ok.” 

He sure hopes he will be now. 

“What’s your name?” 

Despite the haze covering, his red eyes zeroed on you, calmly taking you in despite the battered state he was in. You froze. 

You stammered, heart hammering as you finally had another person's attention for once. It should’ve made you really ecstatic, but it just made you feel like you were naked on live TV. 

“It’s um-“ you nibbled on your lip as if unused to your name, Katsuki just got lost in the dainty, delicate sound of your voice. 

And when you said your name, as if testing foreign words on your tongue for the first time, he couldn’t help but think it suited you. 

So pretty. 

Honestly, if the sight of you is the only thing he’ll see before dying, he’ll be content. Your hand remained in hold his, your warmth travelling to his frigid hand and warming his very soul. 

But the sound of ambulance sirens broke him out of his trance, and you too, it seems. For you broke away from him in fright, he had to hold back from grabbing you and keeping you close. He would, had he not been injured. 

“Whe-where are you going?” He asked brokenly, desperate to keep the angel that saved him close. You shook your head, frightened and frantic. Looking at the time, and seemingly getting further and further. 

“I’m sorry-I—I’ve got to go. I’m gonna late, I’ll get punished if I’m late.” 

His heart sunk with every syllable you uttered, feeling a pain he had never felt before, something not tangible enough to be compared to injuries and not comprehensible enough for a man like Katsuki to express. 

You’re a darling. 

You’re someone’s darling.

By the time the ambulance rolled in and took him, you were long gone…

But not for long. 

……………...

Katsuki Bakugo: Yandere. 

Classification: Protective

Darling: Unregistered 

In a world where yanderes are allowed to go rampant with their love, an ordinary citizen doesn’t know when they’ll become trapped by a person who claims to ‘love them unconditionally’. Thus making them a darling. And from the moment that label is put on them, the law ceases to help them and they become entirely at their yandere's mercy. 

Yanderes are often separated into their schools and housed in their specified yandere classification ranging from obsessive, possessive and protective, and if a person overlaps two during their classification test they get reign into which house to go to. At UA, the houses are split between those three types and are equally split. 

Katsuki, who scored rather high in both protective and obsessive traits, chose to go with the protective unit where he met Kirishima, who’s currently blabbering on about nothing in Katsuki’s hospital room. 

“You barely made it man, I still can’t believe it. One can never be too careful these days.” He said, for the hundredth time. Katsuki was topless, the nurse having just finished bandaging his wounds. The stark white stood out against his chiseled, muscular front, it had every nurse swooning but he only had one thing on his mind. 

You. 

Where were you? Who were you? Did you really have a yandere? How can he take you away now? 

No, he doesn’t like you. He’s just curious. 

He’s survived this long without a darling. He doesn’t need one, contrary to popular societal belief. 

When babies are three, they undergo tests and scans to see whether they have OLD, obsessive love disorder, which is something about 15 percent of the population suffers from. 

They go to their own schools and such, but their identity as yanderes won’t be revealed to the general public, making it easy for yanderes to take their darlings by surprise when the grand reveal comes. 

Katsuki himself attended a yandere oriented hero school, but what the public doesn’t know is that the acceptance rate is so low because only yanderes are accepted. Yanderes rarely, but not never, go for other yanderes so it poses as less of a distraction. 

And so, the talented in the 15 percent of Japanese yandere are carefully picked and honed. 

And the separation only proves something. That darlings are a distraction. He won’t be like other wanderers, he’ll get a hold of himself. 

…………..

Y/N L/N: Darling

Under yandere of classification: Obsessive

Yandere name: Nagisa Mura

Katsuki ground his teeth, red orbs staring viciously at his computer screen. Hypothesizing and being faced with the fact that you do belong to someone else. The distraction, unneeded angel who fell from heaven just to save him. 

Poor you, he bets that piece of shit doesn’t treat you as good as he could. 

After looking further into you, he found several allegations of sexual assault made towards Mura that got completely dropped after he captured you. 

A flash of searing pain made Katsuki jerk back, narrowly missing scorching his screen to smithereens. 

He...he hurt you. The fucker hurt his angel, his princess...he hurt you, he hurt you, he hurt you. 

He thought of your pretty, kissable lips, making unsure, clumsy movements as you tried to vocalise your name. 

No, Katsuki has to have you. He needs to save you. It’s the only way for both of you to be happy at this point. 

And this, spurred on a thorough check at your yandere, and Katsuki delved so deep that when he found what he wanted, he couldn’t help but break out into a lopsided, sinister grin. 

………………

Nagisa burrowed his face in your neck, breathing in your scent while you sat still and rigid, not wanting to move away and risk his sanity flying away. 

“Did you enjoy it?” He asked softly, suddenly attentively look at you with his cat-like, loving, sick eyes. Your heart palpitated in fear for a second before you nodded. 

“Oh, where did you go? You...didn’t talk to anyone right?” Your heart erratically hammered, thinking that he might’ve somehow found out you did, and even told him your name. You shook your head at the speed of a sewing machine, then thought that might’ve perhaps been too aggressive to be convincing. 

“I didn’t. I walked to the park and came back home.” 

He sighed in satisfaction at that, moving his dark bangs back to stare at you with his green hues. 

“I knew night time was a better idea. There would be no one around at this time that you can’t deal with with pepper spray. Fewer people to talk to, fewer people who see you” he was smiling, not breaking eye contact once, and with each syllable, his soft voice seemed to get more sinister and sinister. 

You only nodded, pliant as a lamb in his grip as he twisted you however he wished. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling the scent of you as if smelling a rare fragrant flower. 

“We’ve gotten so far since the days in the orphanage when you refused to share your dolls with me when we were five.” 

Memories. Something that should fill one with nostalgia, only filled you with an unbearable sense longing to a freer, more easy time. When you only had to worry about Nagisa bothering you during breakfast, lunchtime, movie time, sometimes worship time and wash time. 

Desperate for a sense of normalcy, you hugged him back, feeling icy cold in his embrace. 

“Nagi, what are we having for dinner?” A twinge of regret pierced you as you lowered your guard for a second. His hold became stiff, and he didn’t bother to swipe back his bangs as he flashed you a blank face. 

“You’re thinking about dinner while we hug?” 

But you knew how to deal with him better by now, deflecting his anger and turning it into something more malleable. 

“Oh no, it’s just that I feel a little dizzy. I don’t think I ate or drank well those past few days.” You paired the lie with a yawn for extra measure, and the ice of his face melted to reveal a familiar worried expression pouted lips and widened greeny eyes. 

He carefully put you down, bundling you in a blanket before he rushed to the kitchen to prepare you some food. 

The worry he harboured for your well being should’ve filled you with warmth, but instead, you were left twiddling your thumbs and rocking yourself back and forth, an unexplainable feeling of doom filled you. 

The feeling of a hand touching you caused you to spring out of your reverie in fright, but the sight of the green hues staring back at you only calmed you a fraction. He put the food in front of you, which he brought back with some vitamins because he can’t have you getting sick. 

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling incredibly stupid and useless. 

He insisted he feed you and that you go to bed early. 

But as you laid in bed, thoughts of strange red irises and their bewitching beholder swarmed your thoughts along with the fatigue. You hope he’s alright… 

You wanted to check on him, but if you asked or even implied to Nagisa that you met someone, let alone a man albeit injured or not, that he will opt to not let you out for a year again, or possibly longer this time. 

Even in his injured form, there was something undeniably feral about him, as if ready to pounce any second and gamble his chances at life if the situation called for it. It frightened you. 

You shook your head, willing comfort to return to you through the soft duvet and sheets enveloping your body. You better sleep before Nagisa comes to bed and finds you awake…

…….

Finally, Bakugou has the best reason to get that fuck arrested. And you? Poor you, you’re going to have your yandere taken away, and you can’t *just* be let free. You didn’t earn it after all. Well, you would have, had there not being a perfectly suitable yandere for you to be rehomed with. 

Heh, to think of it, you might hate him a little for this...but he’ll show you that he can treat you better, in no time, you’ll be wrapped around his finger like he’s shamefully wrapped around yours. 

Bakugou’s thoughts come to an abrupt halt when the L-word is mentioned, not noticing when his thoughts spiralled to that degree. His deranged obsession with you had been planted the moment you saved him, but Katsuki didn’t notice when he lost the wheel of his rationality to his heart. 

Yeah, sure, he did background checks on you, felt a twinge of pain when he realised you grew up in an orphanage, felt a tornado of anger when he saw the assault charges that went nowhere after that obsessive fuck captured you. Yeah, ok, he felt proud when he saw that you were the valedictorian. But… where did the stone hearted Katsuki go? Where did the one who was afraid of getting close to anyone in case his true nature shows and distracts him from his dream go? 

But then, he remembered your glassy eyes, staring at him in worry that no one ever showed towards him before, fumbling with his phone to dial the ambulance while holding his hand. Telling him he’ll be ok. 

The moment Bakugo looked in the mirror, he knew he lost. 

His cheeks were flaming hot. 

Whatever, he better start preparing your room. 

…….

It felt like preparing the room of a newborn baby, Katsuki bought enough stuffed animals and plushies to make it resemble a fluffy asylum, along with pastel pink sheets. Your name was also put on the wall, with cursive pink letters that had butterflies surrounding them.

Not to forget a dresser filled with all kinds of things you could ever desire. But his favourite was filling the closet. 

Besides adding some of his own shirts, he stuffed it with all kinds of pretty dresser and cute clothes that he can’t wait to see you wear. 

Bakugo dusted his hands, taking a sigh and looking at the finished guestroom, previously a spare but now your own room, it looked as if a sparkly fairy vomited all over it. Hopefully you’ll like it… 

He wishes you were here to see it… 

An unfamiliar sense of isolation invaded his heart, perhaps it was the realisation that he just finished a room to a person who doesn’t even live with him *yet*, or knowing what he’s missing out on with you, but he knew he desperately wanted you here. 

He wanted to protect you from the bastard who has you in his clutches

…….. 

A day later

You sat on the sofa, munching on some popcorn while you sat on Nagisa’s lap, watching anime. 

A rough knock sounded out, the sound so aggressive is sounded as if the wood itself was gonna break under the aggressive force. Nagisa tensed up, he wasn’t expecting any guests, in fact, he rarely invites anyone over. He disassociated the both of you from any acquaintances from the orphanage, and you weren’t allowed to mingle with anyone. 

He saw your curious look, even without any verbal question, but he opted to simply kiss your forehead and put you on the sofa. 

He quickly went to answer the door, but not without grabbing a dagger and hiding it somewhere discreet. 

He turned the knob, feeling his chest tighten painfully, as if sensing a near, imminent loss. 

Three aggressive, toned cops welcomed his sight as soon as the door was open. They forced their way inside, cuffing him and telling him things, words that were spoken too fast and went over his head as the only thought that went through his head aas you. 

He turned around to where he left you, but you were suddenly standing besides one of the officers, not allowed near him. No…

“According to our database, you are a yandere who has a darling. This means that she will be permanently taken away from you and handed to an eligible yandere as part of your punishment.” 

He swallowed, his gaze, which always seemed morbid to you, now looked panicked and morose, gaze moving like a boomerang between you and the officers, as if not processing what’s happening. 

“Nagisa, what have you done?” He couldn’t answer you, he couldn’t speak a word. You were leaving him, and there’s nothing that he can do. 

“Eligible yandere? But as far as I know, there’s no one after her besides me.” The thought comforted him. Maybe he’ll recapture you after he serves whatever sentence he has, even though he’ll have to do it on the down low now. It’s illegal for a yandere who had their darling taken away to go after them again. 

“Well you thought wrong. Scum” 

Bakugou felt like the star of the show, coming in to rescue his damsel and finish his quest, with you as the prize. 

Your mouth was agape, the little hope that simmered in you that you might possibly be free is now crushed, confusion coming full force in place of it. His face was all too familiar, it was the face of the man you found on death's door only a few days ago. 

Nagisa’s face blanked, turning to you with bloody accusations in his eyes, which made your vision narrow to only focus on him, afraid to make eye contact yet afraid not to. You almost felt the bile rise up your stomach as goosebumps covered your entire body at his familiar, haunting stare. 

“(Y/n)...how does he know you?” 

“I-“ you swallowed, unable to answer. Who is he? 

The dots were starting to connect in Nagisa’s head, however, instead of his chilling rage, all you got was a sad, nostalgic smile. 

“Very well (y/n), it’s ok.” You couldn’t feel relieved from his ambiguous tone. Your very gut screaming at you that something was wrong. 

And your gut was right. 

“It’s ok, I know you didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I’m sure of it but I’m sorry because if I can’t have you then nobody can.” In the blink of an eye, Nagisa charged at you with a dagger, with speed you didn’t know he possessed, while you were frozen in place in fear. 

However, before he could reach you, the blond, brawny man moved like the wind, catching the hand that threatened you, firing an explosion at the wrist in a show of wrath, probably giving Nagisa third degree burns, then twisting his arms behind his back and pushing him harshly into the floor. The level of strength between them was visibly imbalanced to the blondes' favour, Nagisa was by no means fit or sturdy, not at all when compared to the wall of strength in front of you. 

The officers, novices who should have expected this turn of events by all means, have proven to be useless until the very end of this spectacle, thanking the blond the blond profusely while handcuffing the hysterical Nagisa, who was taken kicking and screaming by one of the officers while one stayed behind. 

“Miss (y/n), I believe? Sorry we couldn’t prevent this unsavoury turn of events, that criminal will be locked for good, you don’t have to worry about him.” The officer tried to reassure the frightened lady in front of him, disappointed that a yandere would try to kill the person he loves. That was one of the most prohibited laws, though what can he expect from a criminal? 

“You don’t have to worry about your safety though, as it turns out, you will be rehomed with Mr Dynamight. This will serve as both a punishment for the offending yandere and a way for darlings who haven’t earned their freedom to stay with their next eligible caretaker.” 

You nodded shily, overwhelmed by the influx of information directed at you. It didn’t help that you barely spoke to anyone besides Nagisa in years. 

The officer took your agreeableness in stride, scramming quickly as he physically felt the burn of Bakugou’s stare. 

Now it was just him and you. 

“You ok?” He managed to mutter, not sure how to start a conversation with you now that he had you. 

You nodded, not facing him. Are you ok? 

You felt the moisture gathering in your eyes, making your eyes seem like gleaming crystals. 

Of course you weren’t ok. 

You just had the person who, for years, claimed they loved you, stole you against your will and forced you to adapt to a lifestyle that suited them try to kill you. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry but apparently your body did as it broke into a sob. 

Your shoulders shook in failing effort to try to hide yourself from him-Mr Dynamight or something, but he felt his heart clench when he heard you sniffle. 

You heard him kiss his teeth, and you had a half mind to apologise, having unfond memories of the sound, but he instead, to your surprise, brought his beefy arms around you and embraced you warmly. 

Your crying halted, head turning up to fave him with a ‘deer caught in the headlights’ look in your eyes, making him blush and turn away from you with another kiss of his teeth. 

“Stop crying.” 

Why did his simple gesture stop your tears? Why are you not trying to make a run for it? 

Most importantly, why do you feel something warm blooming in your chest instead of hate? 

You looked at him, trying to channel all the hate you harbored for Nagisa for this newfound captor of yours, but all you could think about is when he saved you from Nagisa’s sharp blade— how strong and capable he was, really, shouldn’t you be thankful? 

At that moment, you experienced something that never happened to you in your years of being with Nagisa. 

You blushed. 

……

 You stepped through Bakugou’s house, already having an idea of what kind of lavish place it is from the exterior, but you were nevertheless impressed. 

The place is something out of a movie, extremely different to the small and cozy apartment you lived in. Everything seemed up to date and costly. 

You didn’t notice Bakugou preening in pride at the impressed look on your face. He tried to appear nonchalant, but he was seconds away from grabbing your hand in excitement as he tours you around the place. 

Still, he wanted some form of contact with you, so he opted to put a hand behind your back, excusing it as you being too slow when you turned to him with a quizzical look. 

His hand felt warm on your back. 

“This is the bathroom nearest to your room, but there’s one in your room as well.” 

Your room. It felt strangely delighting to have something be your own, when previously everything was ours with Nagisa. Everything was happening so quickly, you didn’t know whether you should try to pause to catch your breath or pick up your pace. 

“And uh, this is your room.” This time you did notice Bakugou’s redness, it was quite hard not to when his entire face was red. Of course it would be. 

The room looked like it was something out of a barbie house. Soft, pastel rugs paired with baby pink curtains. Plush, stuffed dolls littered the place, some small and some big enough to engulf you. You slowly stepped inside, unsure how to feel about this interior, until you felt your bed. It was also a gentle pink, but the catch was how featherlight soft it was, it felt silky, and the mattress reminded you of when you’d dream of sleeping on a cloud. 

“Like it?” He asked, not taking his eyes off your blessed face. That’s the first he’s seen this expression on you. He feels almost cheated, like he would have seen way more of you and learnt way more than he already knows if that piece of shit let you out. 

You hummed to him in response. 

“Good, ‘cuz it’s your nap time now.” 

“Huh?” You straightened your back, looking at him in protest. 

“But, I still have things to ask you! Plus, I don’t need a freaking nap-“ 

“Sleep now, questions later.” 

The sun was starting to dip, giving the room a warm, orange glow which did make you feel somewhat lethargic. Bakugou closed the curtains, and shut the door, but surprisingly didn’t leave your room. He pulled the covers back, gesturing for you to slip under. You were afraid for a moment that he was gonna slither his way inside as well, uninvited. But he merely sat besides your supine form. 

“Um-?” 

“I’m gonna stay here ‘till you fall asleep.” You nodded mutely, not finding a point to objecting anymore. You never have a say anyways. But, this wasn’t so bad. He put his large hand on your head, caressing it and admiring its texture, and how amazing it feels beneath his fingers. You felt his touch to be invasive at first. Who does he think he is, touching you when you don’t even know him?

But you don’t speak. You instead relax and let the stress you built up melt away, and you welcome sleep. 

…..

Your eyes slowly fluttered open to the feeling of someone lately shaking you. You were disoriented, glancing around the fluffy place in confusion, your eyes looking adorably lost and confused. 

“C’mon dumbass. It’s time for dinner.” 

Oh, right, you were living with him now. 

“I put the clothes you’re gonna wear on your bed, and here are your slippers.” You glanced on the bed, seeing a comfy looking white, silky pyjama dress slippers at the foot of your bed. 

“Ok.” You nodded, “I got it.” 

He gave you one final final intense look leaving your bedroom. 

…….

In the dining room, Bakugou had already set everything up. He made your favourite food, lit up some candles and sat down, anxious glancing at the door and waiting for you to appear. Will you like it? Will you ask him questions? Do you enjoy living with him so far? 

If the answer to some of those questions is no, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. He does know that you aren’t going anywhere though. 

You quietly walked in, feeling the tension increase with each step you took. 

You spied the contents on the table, salivating at the smell of your favourite food like a starved ogre, not even bothering to grimace at the memory of Nagisa’s poor attempt at making it. 

Bakugou was salivating as well, but for different reasons. He couldn’t look away from your exposed skin, staring creepily as if he’s never seen a leg before. 

The meal was consumed with awkwardness, neither party breaking the ice. You were afraid of confrontation, of asking too many questions and receiving nothing but anger and resentment in return. He seems so much nicer than Nagisa, you didn’t want him to hate you. 

The silence reigned, and the dishes were cleared away and being washed by Bakugou, who insisted you stay near him but also insisted you stay unoccupied. 

Every moment that passed felt like a moment lost, and you kept summoning your courage, but the words just wouldn’t leave your mouth. Maybe you should build up to what you really wanted to ask instead of jumping straight to it. 

You saw his red eyes sneakily glancing at you, rapidly leaving your form when you noticed him, causing his ears and face to flush. 

“So um, what do you do?” he quirked an eyebrow, looking at you strangely while his movements didn’t pause. 

“You-you don’t know?!” he exploded, looking at you in disbelief. You just shook your head like a deer caught in headlights. 

Oh, that shit must’ve not let you watch TV much. 

“I’m a pro hero.” 

Your eyes widened in wonder, the decadence of the place suddenly making sense. 

“Cool! What’s your quirk?” he ditched the dishes, excitedly showing you his quirk and explaining how it works, delighted at your cute smile and interest in him. The air felt charged and lively, and maybe that’s what led you to ask the questions that have being nagging at you. 

“So um, how did you-uh, how did you even find out anything about me?” 

Your heart dropped when you saw the excitement on his face disappear, his usual scowl in place of it. 

“You told me your name, that’s all I needed to know. I never stopped thinking about you ever since I saw you, I tried but I couldn’t. If even someone as strong as me can end up on death's door, then what would happen to you? I couldn’t just leave you.” At this point, he was caressing your face, looking at you with love stricken eyes. You were reminded of who you were talking to, you were talking to a Protective yandere, who took you. 

You didn’t have to ask anything else really, pandora’s box opened, and everything you weren’t previously privy to is now made obvious to you. 

“It sickened me though, knowing you actually fucking belonged to someone else. So how could I leave you? I had to save you like you saved me.” he had both of his huge hands on your face, looking at you with pure insanity, love, adoration and bloodthirst swirling and mixing in his irises. He was a yandere, he was the person every ordinary person should fear, he has you in his clutches, you should be trying to escape and regain your freedom, you saw first hand how easily capable of hurting you he could be if he wanted… So why weren’t you scared?

#yandere katsuki #yandere bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha bakugo katsuki #bnha bakugo #bnha bakugou #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #bnha #mha #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki #bakugou scenarios #bakugou headcanon #bakugou scenario #bakugo #bakugo fluff #my hero fanfic #katsuki bakugou

[leossmoonn]

Play Ground Days

masterlist

pairing - carl gallagher x fem!reader

type - fluff

note / request - “ughh FINALLY someone that writes good imagines abt carl from shameless! could you write one where you two grew up together and you've always been close n stuff and then at some point he realizes he loves the reader and he talks to ian and lip (maybe mickey too bc i love him) about it? (fem!reader btw if that's cool) thanks babe xx” thanks for inspo on the beginning @poesflygirl​ <3 ,,, carl and you are 16 also pls dont come for me ive only played COD 2 times last year so lmao i dont remember a lot about it, enjoy!

summary - carl has liked you since you two were young, and seeks advice from his brothers and mickey

warnings - strong language, drugs and alcohol, little talk about bad body imagine 

————

*gif isnt mine*

“I fucking knew it!” Lip exclaimed.

“Why are you telling us? We’ve known this.” Ian commented, smirking at his little brother.  

“How the hell—” Carl started. 

“You’re not exactly great at hiding your crush on her,” Mickey chuckled. 

Carl’s eyes were the size of saucers. “You knew?”

“Of course I did. I’m not fucking Helen Keller,” Mickey rolled his eyes. 

Carl groaned and ran his hands roughly through his hair. “I can’t believe this. Well, secret’s out, I guess. What do I do?”

“Just go tell her you like her. It’s not like she’s going to turn you down.” Lip shrugged, putting his cigarette to his lips. 

“Lip!” Ian hit his brother’s shoulder. 

“What?” Lip asked. 

“You weren’t supposed to say that, dumbass,” Mickey said.

 “What does that mean?” Carl asked, looking in-between his brother’s and Mickey. 

Lip sighed. “Ah, shit, right. I’ve already said too much.”

————

4 hours earlier: 2:00 PM

“Hey, shit head!” She called out, throwing rocks against the window. 

Carl got up from his bed, shocked but happy to see her. He opened his window, leaning against the frame. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asked.

She threw the rocks to the ground. “Escaping from my druggie dad, duh. What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Carl shrugged. 

She did her signature smirk that always made Carl’s heart flutter. “Wanna go and stuff our faces at Patsy’s Pies?”

Carl’s eyes lit up at the mention of fatty, greasy food. “Hell yeah. I’ll come down.”

She nodded, going to the front of their house. Carl ran down the stairs, putting on his shoes and opening the door to find her on the steps. 

“Hey, why didn’t you just come into the house?” Carl asked, shutting the door behind him. 

“Putting damage on your window seemed more fun. Oh, hey! Do you have an extra bed I can sleep in tonight?” She asked. 

Carl nodded. “Yeah, of course. Your dad is that bad, huh?”

“Yep, he relapsed. Super fun,” she laughed sarcastically. 

“I’m sorry. That shit sucks,” Carl said.

She shrugged. “Yeah, well, it’s life. Anyways, ready to go?”

Carl nodded. They got into her car, the girl starting it and driving fast to the dinner. As she was driving, humming to the songs on the radio, Carl stared at her. She was absolutely gorgeous. 

Her name was Y/n L/n. Carl’s oldest and only real friend. They had grown up together, Y/n living only a few houses away from him. They had met in detention in 1st grade and had been close ever since. 

“What’re you staring at?” Y/n asked, glancing over to him. 

Carl blushed. “Nothing.”

“Alright,” Y/n sang.

Carl had often been caught staring at her. It was something he usually did from time to time, but now it was more often. He couldn’t help it. There was something about her. Maybe flawless her skin was, how pretty and bright her smile and eyes were, the way she would make him feel secure and loved, something he had never got from anyone consitently. 

He never really knew why he thought those things about her. People had told him that he probably had a crush on her, but he knew that wasn’t right. He had crushes on girls before and the things he was feeling for Y/n were a lot different than what he had felt for his past girlfriends. He figured it was just that she was his closest friend and he happened to be a horny teenager, so naturally, he just thought those things about her. But oh, how wrong he actually was. 

Y/n parked her car at Patsy’s Pies. They walked into the diner, seeing Fiona at the register. 

“Hey, Fi,” Y/n smiled. 

“Hey, Y/n, Carl! Long time, no see. How are ya?” Fiona asked. 

“Good, good,” Y/n smiled. 

“Good,” Carl said. 

“Great! Well, get yourself seated and someone will be right with you,” she smiled. 

Y/n and walked off to a small booth and sat down. They picked up the menus that were already on the table. 

“You gonna get your usual?” Y/n asked. 

Carl shrugged. “Maybe. Should I change it up?”

“Yes. The double bacon cheeseburger looks good,” Y/n said. 

“Are you getting that?” Carl asked. 

“Maybe. I’ll probably get a salad or something. Gotta watch those calories, you know?” She half-joked, putting a hand on her stomach. 

“I think you look good. You don’t need to worry,” Carl smiled. 

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Carl nodded. 

Y/n looked back at the menu, hiding her embarrassment.

Carl complimenting her was something that was rare, but did happen. Y/n never remembered Carl as a romantic type of guy, but it seems that he had developed  those traits from having a few girlfriends. She liked that, actually. She liked him complimenting her, staring at her for minutes at a time, the way his ears would turn red when she teased him. She liked all of that. 

Y/n would never admit it to anyone, but she had a crush on Carl. She had a crush on him since their freshman year of high school. Well, in reality, she probably has always had one, but the first time she really realised she liked him was in biology when he got in trouble in one of the labs. She remembered when the teacher was yelling at him and he looked at her, smiling at her mischievously and winking at her. That wink had her heart racing and mind go foggy. From then on, she had liked him as more than a friend. Yet, she never said anything because well, as cliche as it was, she was afraid of ruining their friendship. He was really the only one who got her and who never abandoned her. She couldn’t lose him, so she just kept her feelings and gestures to him as friendly as she could.  

“Hi, I’m Carly and I’ll be serving you today. What can I get you today?” The waitress asked. 

“Hi, can I get the philly cheesesteak with a medium coke and fries,” Carl ordered. 

Carly nodded and wrote his order down, turning to Y/n. 

“Um, I’ll get the bacon cheeseburger with a small sprite and fries. Thanks,” Y/n ordered. 

Carly took their menus. “Great. I’ll have your drinks out soon.”

Y/n and Carl smiled at the waitress as she walked away. 

“Hey, so I thought your dad was in rehab,” Carl said. 

Y/n sighed. “He was, but I guess his girlfriend got him drunk, then convinced him to do some lines. God, I can’t believe he's even with her still.”

Carl frowned. “What about your mom? Where’s she?”

“She’s going to nursing school right now. She’s the only one responsible in this family, yet she never calls or anything,” she scoffed.

“You’re really responsible,” Carl said. 

Y/n smiled. “Thanks, C. You are, too.”

Carl laughed, “Me? I sold drugs on the streets once.”

She giggled. “True. But you’ve really shaped. I'm proud.”

Carl smiled sheepishly. “Thanks.”

Y/n hummed a ‘you’re welcome’. Carly came back with their food quickly and they dug in. Carl and Y/n spent their time talking and eating, spending about 2 hours there as they just kept talking. 

“Are you two finished?” Carly asked, gesturing to their empty plates. 

“Yeah,” Carl nodded. 

“Great. Here’s your bill, pay whenever you’re ready,” Carly smiled and took their dirty dishes. 

“Ready to go?” Y/n asked. 

Carl nodded and got out his wallet that he had in his shorts. Meanwhile, Y/n also got out her wallet. They both looked up at each other, awkward expressions on their faces. 

“Oh, I was gonna pay,” Carl said. “No, no, my treat. I invited you here,” Y/n said. 

“You sure?” Carl asked. 

She smiled and put a hand on his arm. “Yes, I am, Carl.”

Butterflies irrupted in Carl’s stomach as she touched him. He nodded slowly, putting his credit card away. Y/n and him walked up to the register and paid for their meal. They then went back to Y/n car. 

“What do you wanna do now?” Y/n asked. 

“Wanna play COD Black Ops 3?” Carl asked. 

“Yes!” Y/n smiled. She drove them back to his house, parking haphazardly on the street. 

The two hurried into the house, grabbing a seat on the couch. Carl got the controllers, turning onto the playstation. Y/n logged onto her account, selecting the gun she wanted to use. Carl then started the game. 

“Where are you?” Y/n squinted her eyes at the screen. 

“Right behind you,” Carl smirked. 

Y/n turned around, gasping as Carl shot her. 

“Fuck you!” Y/n exclaimed. 

“Little rusty, huh?” Carl teased. She rolled her eyes. “I’m gonna kill you next round.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Carl said. 

“Winner gets to pick what’s for dinner,” Y/n said. 

“Deal,” Carl nodded. 

The pair played for a couple hours, the game ending with Y/n getting the last kill. 

“Good game,” she smirked, setting the controller down. 

“I forgot how good you were at this,” Carl frowned. Y/n giggled, “I forgot how bad you were.”

Carl rolled his eyes with a smile. “Alright, where do you want to eat?”

“Hm… Noodles n Company?” She suggested. 

“Sure,” Carl nodded. 

“Alright, I’m gonna use the bathroom and then order. Text me what you want,” Y/n said, getting up from the couch. 

Carl nodded and watched her go upstairs to use the bathroom. Then that’s when Lip, Ian, and Mickey all came into the house. 

“Hey, guys,” Carl said. 

“Hey,” Ian smiled. 

“Is Y/n here? We saw her car out front,” Lip said. “Yeah, she is,” Carl nodded. 

“Asked her out yet?” Lip smirked. Carl’s face turned red. “Wh-What?”

“Oh, you’re not in love with her then?” Ian furrowed his brows. 

“I… am I?” Carl asked. 

Ian chuckled. “Yeah. You always are always happy around her, blush whenever she teases you.”

“And you’re always staring at her,” Lip added.

“That doesn’t mean I like her,” Carl said.

“Do feel dizzy and nauseous when she touches you? Does your heart race when she gets close? Do you see yourself kissing her? Would you do anything for her?” Ian asked. 

Carl furrowed his brows. They were right, all those things did happen when she was near. She was his best friend. He also sometimes think about kissing her and being with her in a romantic way. And yeah, of course he would do anything for her. Maybe… Maybe he did love her. 

“Oh, shit,” he muttered. “I… I guess I am in love with her.”

And that, ladies and gents, is where we left off. Lip, Ian, and Mickey teased Carl until Carl begged them for real help. 

“What do you mean?” Carl asked anxiously. 

Lip looked to Ian and Mickey for help on what to say. Little did Carl know, Y/n actually did admit her crush to someone. And that someone, or someones, were Lip, Ian, and Mickey. 

“Don’t worry about it, man,” Mickey said. 

“Did she say something to you?” Carl asked. “No,” Ian shook his head. “Like Mick said, don’t worry.”

“I… fine. Well, what do I do then?” Carl asked in slight distress.

“Give her some flowers and chocolate. Girls love that shit,” Lip suggested. 

“Alright,” Carl nodded. “I don’t know what her favourite flowers are, though.”

“Just get her roses. That’s really romantic,” Lip said. 

Carl smiled, “Alright. Awesome. Thanks, guys.”

He decided to get the flowers early morning tomorrow before Y/n woke up. 

————

Carl sneaked back into the house, hoping not to wake Y/n up. As he walked into the kitchen, he was shocked to see her at the table drinking coffee. 

“Hey, Carl!” Y/n smiled. 

Carl’s eyes were blown wide. “I.. uh…”

“Who are those for?” Y/n got up and pointed to the flowers and chocolate in his hand. 

“Um… you?” Carl said. Y/n smiled. “Me? What did I do to deserve this?”

Carl knew that he couldn’t make up an excuse. He was horrible at lying to her. So, he decided to just have his confession here. 

“I.. I’m in love with you,” Carl said. Y/n’s jaw dropped and she froze. “Wha-What?”

“My brothers and Mickey helped me realise I was yesterday when you were ordering dinner. They told me I should get you flowers and stuff so I did. I hope you like roses,” Carl explained and held up the gifts. 

Y/n’s lips upturned in a wide smile. “How long have you liked me?”

“Honestly, probably since we were little,” Carl shrugged sheepishly. 

Y/n giggled. “Me, too.”

“Really?” Carl smiled. 

Y/n waked up to him and took the gifts, setting them on the kitchen counter. She went up to him and put her arms around his neck. 

“Yep. I always have,” she grinned. 

“Oh, sick!” Carl exclaimed. “Oh wait.”

“What?” Y/n asked in confusion. 

“That’s what they meant!” Carl exclaimed in realisation.

“Who? What?” “Oh, Lip, Mickey, and Ian kind of told me yesterday when I asked for help,” Carl explained. 

Y/n’s eyes widened and she turned to the stairs, glaring. “Mickey, Lip, Ian! You better fucking run!”  

————

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[uwuwriting]

Bakugou, Shinsou, Todoroki, Dabi and Shigaraki checking out their s/o

Request: Pretty pls hcs for Shinsou, Shoto, Dabi, Shigaraki, and Bakugou getting caught checking out their s/o? thank you! - anonymous

Pretty boys you’ve got there sweet anon. Pretty boys with a capital P. Love yaa. 💖💖💖

rules

warning: some suggestive thoughts, swearing

Bakugou Katsuki

-Bakugou doesn’t like showing his feelings. 

-Like to no one. 

-Not even to you sometimes.

-So when you started to officially date you understood why he would want to keep our relationship a secret.

-He was good at keep it that way.

-Like really good.

-You got no extra attention or special treatment, he never lost his poker face around you and would never NEVER stare at you.

-So you never really checked on him to see if his eyes wondered to ...places. 

-Today your skirt had ridden up your thighs while you were bouncing around the room along side Mina.

-Your favorite band was coming near you guys since they were on tour and you both were ecstatic. 

-The skin of your thighs looked so soft and plum who wouldn’t stare?

-You did mind when people stared at you but now dealing with your excitement was a priority. 

-Your boyfriend had gotten excited by something else though. 

-His eyes were glued to your thighs, his red orbs following your every movement.

-Kaminari and Kirishima were telling him something about Mineta but he couldn’t focus on them. 

-His head was constantly turned to you to the point that Kaminari had to shake his shoulder to get him to look at them.

- “Yo what are you looking at?”

-His head was again turned to you his eyes widening only by a fraction while he mumbled something to the two boys. 

-Kaminari followed his gaze and his own jaw dropped for a moment before a smirk formed on his face. 

- “Well he IS drooling over Y/N like a dog.....”

-At the sound of your name on Kami’s lips, Bakugou’s attention was fully on the boys his right eye twitching at the comment. 

-He let out a snarl and raised his hand creating a few small explosions. 

- “And what if I am drooling sparky boy?? She wouldn’t mind me looking anyways.” 

- “And why is that Bakubro?”

-His smirk widened as he said proudly. 

- “Because she’s my fucking girlfriend.”

-Way to be secretive Bakugou.

Shinsou Hitoshi

-Baby doesn’t want to show his true emotions to the outside world. 

-Heart been broken too many times.. *isn’t that how the meme goes?*

-He shows it to you because you are HIS and he adores you. 

-He knows you won’t hurt him so he gives you his all.

-Such a sweetheart OMG!!!!!!!

-While you two are in school grounds there is not many things that would indicate that you two are together. 

-People would have to watch closely to see the sings of your relationship. 

-How he sits really close to you during lunch. 

-How you tend to come to school sporting his hoodie during cold days. 

-It’s all cute and fluffy but so so on the down low. 

-Yall are out on a date and you decided to go to the arcade.

-You convinced him to have a dance off with you and now you are both sweaty and panting while you are jumping up and down to the rhythm of ‘Party anthem”. 

-Shisnou kinda gave up after a while and he is now just staring at you. 

-You on the other hand are giving it your all trying to get everything right. 

-You are sweaty and feeling gross which is not cute at all since you are on a date but he promised you ice cream if you beat him with a significant difference. 

-You are not letting this slide. 

-Hitoshi’s eyes are on your chest that is em...going along with your jumping. 

-He is stuck and he is already dreading that you’ll look at him and call him out.

-But he can’t stop. 

-He really wishes you were at your dorm right now, the things he would do. 

-His blush is getting darker as his thoughts are getting dirtier by the minute until the music stops and you are left panting. 

-There’s another thing to add to the list of things to add to his small fantasy. 

-You notice that he has been silent for some time now and you try to meet his eyes but you see where they are glued. 

-Waltzing up to him you leave a kiss to his cheek and another right under his ear, making him shiver. 

- “Stop being so dirty we will be back soon.” 

-Winking you walked out of the arcade leaving a very turned on Shinsou behind. 

Todoroki Shouto 

-Baby boy is slow.

-Yall aren’t together yet.

-He really can’t understand what is going on whenever you enter the room.

-His heart starts to race, his palms get sweaty and he has a weird tendency to smile. 

-He wants to be the reason you are laughing. 

-He wants to talk to you non stop.

-He wants to be around you 25/8, 366 days a year. 

-But he doesn’t understand why this is happening so he just plain out ignores it. 

-You have a massive crush on him so it kinda hurts when he doesn’t take any hints. 

-You dress up just a little bit while you are out with your friend group since he is part of it. 

-You cook for him.

-You offer help or ask for help with studies.

-But nothing. 

-You were chilling in the common room.

-You were spread out on the couch, your t-shirt exposed your stomach as you were hanging half off the actual couch and just a pair of short shorts underneath. 

-Shoto was coming back from his father’s agency, his nerves were everywhere and his mind wouldn’t shut you out. 

-Your soothing voice was there when his father yelled at him that afternoon and even though you weren’t there you helped him get through the day.

-So when the poor thing walked through the door and was met with you hanging off the couch in such a suggestive position, his mind ran wild. 

-He couldn’t stop the blush that irrupted on his face as his cheeks and ears became the same color as his scar. 

-He almost choked on his spit when you giggled at something on your phone. 

-Midoriya came through the door next and was shocked when he saw his friend beat red and eyes wide. 

- “Todoroki-kun are you alright?”

- “She’s hot- It’s IT’S hot in here.”

-You turned at his voice, sitting up as your shorts rode up your thighs ever so slightly. 

-Todoroki saw and he couldn’t take it any longer, covering his red face with his hand as he mumbled a small ‘excuse me’ and left the room. 

-He certainly had an image that would get him through the night.....

Dabi

-Salty boy™.

-Him and Tsukishima would have been best buds I swear. 

-He is VERY vocal about his attraction to you. 

-Like legit non stop flirting even after you are exclusive.

-Compliments, dirty remarks, dirty promises, dirty actions, dirty dirty dirty things in general. 

-He won’t hesitate to make a dirty remark in front of the rest of the league. 

-He has NO shame whatsoever. 

-Look he finally grew the balls to make you HIS okay?

-He wants to show off. 

-But he knows when to not look at you like he wants to devour you. 

-He is respectful of Kurogiri so he isn’t a horny bastard while he is around. 

-But one day he slipped. 

-His hold on his horniness snapped. 

-Poor guy. 

-Actually scratch that poor you, you are the one who is gonna get it rough later so yeah. 

-You had just returned from a mission that had gone sideways.

-Your clothes were ripped and your pants were half burned off. 

-Your pretty face had smudges on it and you looked exhausted. 

-Immediately you went to take a shower not letting Dabi ogle at you.

-When your shower was over you came back downstairs and order a strong drink, rubbing your temples in an attempt to ease your headache. 

-Your hair was wet and sticking to your shirt making it wet and Dabi could SENSE that you weren’t wearing a bra. 

-That’s his sixth sense. 

-The shirt was black so nothing showed. 

-That’s why you couldn’t understand why Dabi was giving you that smirk and glancing down your shirt. 

-You rolled your eyes at him and shoved him away from you only for him to grip your waist and set you on his lap. 

-He left a kiss on your neck and smirked as you shivered. 

-His eyes were right on your chest since he could see EVERYTHING from this angle.

-That’s when Kurogiri stepped back in the room, the drink you ordered in hand. 

-He almost YEETED you off of him as a blush bloomed on the few patches of unscathed skin that he had. 

-Kurogiri *being the Nomu he is IFHOQOASB I RUINED IT* didn’t really respond to the position you were in. 

-He just gave you your drink and went back to polishing the shot glasses. 

-Dabi wanted to crawl into a whole and die even though Kurogiri said nothing. 

-Poor guy every thought and scenario he made about that night was out the window. 

-He cuddled you to drown his shame. 

-Bastard..........

Shigaraki Tomura

-I dare you to try and make him check you out in public. 

-Sure he might stare at you ass in the DIM LIT bar yall are staying in but that’s just because no one can see his eyes. 

-He is beyond shy when it comes to these matters and unlike Dabi even after you are together he wouldn’t stare at you like a crazy person. 

-He is very very careful with his glances and calculates when would be the right time to stare. 

-Meetings are easy.

-You all are sitting down so how hard could it be to keep his horny side in check?

-Well most of the time is easy. 

-You are usually wearing your civilian clothes which are very casual and comfy. 

-Nothing is showing and nothing really makes him want to rip your clothes off. 

-He wants to cuddle at the sight. 

-The problem appears when one day you had to go out on a mission and were called into an emergency meeting by Shiggy. 

-Your costume is um... sexy to say the least. 

-Everything you are wearing is hugging your body in all the right places and the mask you wear shades your eyes just right. 

-You look seductive as hell. 

-Shiggy rarely sees you in your villain costume. 

-He sees you while you are getting ready and might make a comment or go for a quick round. 

-But now it was unexpected. 

-He didn’t remember you were to go on a mission. 

-Totally forgot. 

-So when you come down and since all the seats are taken you have to stay standing, Shiggy is in trouble. 

-His eyes won’t leave your thighs and he can’t really form coherent words.

-Dabi is drooling over you and so is Toga. 

-They keep pointing out how good you look and how sexy your costume makes you. 

-More than you already are. 

-Shigaraki has to really one up his self control and not cancel  the meeting and drag you to the nearest closet. 

-He’s so disoriented during the meeting. 

-Kurogiri points it out after the meeting ended and you left for your mission. 

-Shiggy had the darkest blush the LoV had ever seen and he had to leave the room. 

-Took a cold shower afterwards. 

-Waits for you like a lost puppy..... which turns feral once you step into the room. 

TAG TEAM AY:

@iwaqchan​ @the-arcana-fan-fic​ @angelwritings​ @axerrri​ @reinyrei​

#bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x y/n #my hero academia shinsou #shinsou fluff #shinsou x reader #shinsou hitoshi #todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #mha todoroki #shouto x reader #dabi #dabi my hero academia #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki fluff #my hero academia shigaraki

[starryevermore]

just like her: everybody knows that (3) ✧ andy barber

just like her ✧ an andy barber series | ao3

pairing: dark!andy barber x fem!reader

summary: you get your flirt on. 

word count: 1,528

warning(s): pet name (sunshine, teach)

note: there is no set update schedule for this; new parts come whenever they come.

“I swear to God, Civ Pro is going to be the fucking death of me,” you groaned, tossing your highlighter on the table. 

Civil Procedure was providing a rare extra-credit opportunity. You’d just finished covering pleadings, and Professor Hunt had provided materials to draft a complaint by November. He allowed groups of no more than six students to work together to write a complaint based on a hypothetical he provided, using assigned cases to determine the elements of the cause of action. Since you and Andy already had a study group made up of six people, it was only natural that the six of you worked on the complaint together. 

But, goddammit, it felt your brain was about to ooze out of your ear or something. 

“You said that about Torts yesterday,” Teddy teased.

“And Contracts the day before,” Billy added. 

“Pretty sure you’ve said the same thing about Research after every, single, class,” Denny said.

“Hey, now, to be fair, Research is a snooze-fest,” Andy jumped in. “But let us not forget the hour-long rant about Property.”

“Hey, that class is a scam and you know it!” you said, pointing your finger at Andy. “All that woman does is read us the fucking cases we’re assigned. I might as well not even read before class! And you hardly have room to talk. You’ve already used all your skips because you couldn’t be bothered to show up!”

“Alright, alright,” Andy said, holding his hands up while sending you a wink, “clearly it’s time for a break.”

“Finally,” you said, leaning back in your seat and rubbing your face with your hands. 

The others pushed their papers in front of them, signifying that they were momentarily giving up as well. They began to chat, but you couldn’t be bothered to listen. Your head was beginning to ache from spending the last hour trying to figure out the best way to format the complaint. You were ready to throw in the towel for the night a half hour ago, decide to come back to this later with a fresh mind. After all, you have over two months to work on it. But noooo, everyone else wanted to get it done fast. 

Plus, the sooner you were done for the night, the sooner you could get away from Andy. It ate you alive to know that you liked him so much, that you would throw yourself out at him if given the chance, all while his heart belonged to someone else. Someone else, that he was going to marry.

But…did his heart really belong to someone else? If he loved his fiancée so much, why was he so…flirty with you? 

“So, what about you?” Teddy asked. 

It took you a moment to realize she was talking to you. “Huh, what? Sorry, I zoned out. What did you say?”

“We were just talking about our epic romances,” Teddy said. Billy laughed and Denny’s face turned red. For a moment, you wondered what embarrassing story you missed out on. Denny was notorious for his epic failures with women, and you could honestly use the opportunity to laugh. “So, you seeing anyone?”

“Been too busy to date,” you said. “By the time I’m done sobbing in my Torts casebook, I’m in no mood to be hit with cheesy one-liners by sleazy men in bars.”

“Well, hey, why don’t I set you up with one of my friends?” Teddy suggested. “His name’s Frank. He’ll still hit you up with cheesy one-liners, but he’s super cute. And he just graduated, like, last May and is a professor of philosophy at Boston University.”

“Philosophy, sounds like a great way to get talked down to,” you laughed. 

“Nah, Frank’s not like that. He’s a bit rough around the edges, sure, but that’s mostly because his mom’s super intense, but he’s a real good guy. I just know you’ll like him.”

You almost wanted to say no. And you almost did. But, you didn’t miss the way Andy went silent, the way his fists clenched, the moment that Teddy brought up your love life. A part of you wondered if that meant you had a chance. But, the more realistic side of you knew that Andy would never act on it unless he was pushed. And what better way to push him than to show him that you wouldn’t wait around?

“Oh, what the hell!” you said. “Give him my number, and tell him that I’m free Saturday if he wants to call and make plans.”

Andy’s eyes narrowed at you as Teddy cheered. While she continued to gush about Frank, he began to scribble at the top of his notes. When the others weren’t looking, he turned his notebook towards you.

Your eyes zeroed in on what he wrote at the top. 

You’re playing with fire, sunshine.

And it should have scared you. Really, it should have. But, the little devil on your shoulder told you that you still had a shot, that he wasn’t unavailable until he was married. That you still had time. That ending an engagement was easier than ending a marriage. 

So you smirked and sent him a wink. Game on. 

“She lives!” Jensen declared, throwing his hands up in the air when he saw you standing in the doorway of his office. 

“It’ll take more than a set of stairs to get rid of me,” you said. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when you looked at him. “Unfortunately, my brain decided to betray me and give me a concussion.”

“Stupid brain,” Jensen said. “I-I mean, not that you’re stupid. ‘Cause you’re not. You’re, like, amazingly brilliant. They should honestly study your brain when you die. I mean, if you want to donate your body to science! And, obviously…You know what, I should probably shut up.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Don’t worry about it. It’s kinda cute to see you ramble like that.”

“Cute, I can handle cute,” Jensen mumbled to himself before saying louder to you, “So, teach, what brings you to my office?”

You smiled at Jensen, holding up your laptop as you said, “Had a question for the tech genius.”

His chest puffed out at your compliment, a smile overtaking his face. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“I was wondering if there was a way to block someone on email?” you asked, chewing on your bottom lip. “I tried Googling it, but staring at the screen made my head hurt and trying to read made my head hurt worse and, honestly, I’m not entirely sure if I even managed to Google the right thing.”

“Yeah, sure, it’s easy peasy!” Jensen said, holding out a hand to take your laptop from you. You passed it to him, telling him your password so he could get in. “So, what, you sick of spam emails or something?”

“I wish it were that simple. This guy, he’s been emailing me and it’s just easier to block him than deal with it another way. The last email he sent’s already pulled up, so you can see what his email address his.”

Except it wasn’t. And, really, you knew it wasn’t. Andy Barber wouldn’t just disappear from your life because you blocked his email address. He would find a way. He always did. You considered yourself lucky that he had left you alone for so long now. But he was back, and you knew he wasn’t going to let you go again so easily. 

“Okay, and he’s blocked.” Jensen’s brows furrowed together. “Wait, a guy? Is everything okay? Because if it isn’t, I can do more than just block his email for you.”

You almost wanted to laugh. Sure, Jensen was built well. His short-sleeve button-downs did little to hide his bulging biceps. And you’d heard from one of the other professors that she’d seen him working out, shirtless, at the rec center and she found out he’d been hiding what she could only describe as “the most beautiful Adonis belt and six-pack she’d ever seen”. But Jensen was also a nerd, and you weren’t sure if you could trust that he’d throw a punch if need be. 

And yet, the sincerity in his voice almost made you buckle at the knees. 

“Just some crazy ex.” The lie shouldn’t have felt as natural as it did. Then again, everything you and Andy did…The only thing that was a lie was that there was never an official title on it. “I guess he just googled me and all he could find was my information on the faculty directory.”

Jensen raised his brows. “What? No social media?”

“Was always freaked out about it. Heard too many horror stories about stalkers and didn’t want to become an unwitting victim. Though, I did download Facebook for, like a day, and determined that I definitely wasn’t missing out on anything.”

“He’s an idiot,” Jensen said. “Your ex, I mean. Stalking a lady isn’t the way to win her heart.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, “And how would you? Win a lady’s heart, I mean?”

A soft smile curled across his face. “Well, you just gotta stick around to find out, teach.”

#just like her: an andy barber series #andy barber imagine #andy barber x reader #andy barber x fem!reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber fanfic #andy barber fan fiction #andy barber fan fic #andy barber fic #andy barber fanfiction #starrywrites #starryevermore

[rommahh]

Better

Word Count: 3.9K

Pairing: Buckybarnesxfem!reader

{This is for @metalbuckaroo's challenge. I had this brewing for a minute but college has got in a chokehold. I chose prompt #30 from the given prompt list. I hope y'all like this read. Love, R}

Bucky trailed behind Y/N as she ignored his calls. Her boots clicked loudly in the small hallway as she rushed towards their shared apartment. Her keys shook in her hand, body tense with anxiety and anger.

Bucky reached her at the door, his hands loosely gripping her arms. Y/N shoved the door open, her body snapping away from his. Y/N haphazardly throws her keys in the small bowl that sat on the hallway side table.

Her chest heaved with deep breaths as she tried to remain calm.

“Y/N please, what is going on? Why are you so mad?” Bucky questioned, slamming the door behind him as his own frustrations started to catch up with him.

“I'm going to bed.” Is all she said to him without even meeting his eyes. She was quick to enter her room and lock the door before he could say anymore. Bucky stood behind her door in confusion. His body still tingled with the lasting effects of the shots he took hours prior.

Sitting on your bed, Y/N finally released. Her shoulders dropped, her body hunching over itself as the tears started flowing.

Y/N had been looking for Bucky for what felt like hours. He was her ride back to the apartment and having been at this party for over four hours- she was exhausted. There was a twinge of disappointment that lingered in her caused by Bucky's disappearance. He invited her to this party tonight but quickly left her to her own devices the moment the both of them walked through the frat’s doors.

The house was mainly empty except for the few lingering bodies that were drunkenly wandering around. She climbed up the stairs that lead to a common room on the second floor. Y/N’s cute white go-go boots were tight on your feet, making her wince at every step. Fashion was a moment type thing, not a four hour long excursion.

Y/N heard a group of voices leading from the common room once you reached the top of the stairs. She listened out waiting to see if she could hear Bucky’s voice before walking through the doors of the common room.

“I don't know why you hang out with that girl Bucky.” Her ears perked at his name. Y/N almost walked through the door but she took a step back to listen to what they were saying.

“Yeah, shes fucking weird.” The group laughed. “I mean look at how she dressed tonight. She’s wearing a costume.”

Y/N looked down at her 80’s inspired dress with a frown. She thought she looked cute tonight, Bucky said she looked cute. She couldn't stop blushing after she heard his words.

“She’s a freak barnes. All she does is follow you around. Are you sure you guys aren't dating?” One of the boys asked with a chuckle. No one said her name yet but she knew they were talking about her. She could tell.

“Y/N’s not that bad. She just doesn't have any friends. I don't like her like that, not my type. She's got that weird anxiety thing.” Bucky's voice finally sounded out from the group. Y/N heart hurt hearing his words. Weird anxiety thing?

“Yeah, making her a freak. So you're just friends with her out of pity? Are you at least getting community service hours?” The group laughed again, Bucky's deep laugh standing out to Y/N.

“You have a lot of strength for a man who's not getting any ass from the girl he's keeping company with. Shes weird as fuck but her body is still bangin. Have you ever copped a feel of her tits? I would hang out with the loser if I got to fuck her too.” Someone commented. Y/N felt bile rise in her throat. She could feel a panic attack approaching having heard the sexual comments about her body. She stepped out from around the wall into the common room. All eyes snapped up to her, some eyes widening in shock. Bucky just looked up, not catching on that his roommate may have heard the horrid words said about her.

“I-im ready to go home, Bucky.” She hadn't looked up from where her feet were rooted on the stained wood floors. Bucky slowly wobbled up from his seat. The rest of the guys watching quietly, some snickering at Bucky's submissiveness.

“Here sweets, you're gonna have to drive.” Bucky says handing his keys over to Y/N. Without looking at him, she snatches the keys from his hands and quickly retreats to his car. Bucky stumbles behind her confused by her attitude.

Y/N walked to Bucky’s car, arms covering whatever they could cover on her body. Her mind telling her she was unsafe, her anxiety telling her even worse things.

Bucky eyes burned from the headache he had. He felt physically ill as he woke up from the living room couch. Last night's activities blur in his mind, no clear memories presenting themselves. He sits up to rest his forearms on his knees trying to calm his bubbling stomach.

The first thing he notices as he comes to his senses is the lack of Y/N’s noise. Normally the small apartment would be filled with the sounds of her sunday playlist as she cleans about. He also doesn't smell her extra dark and strong coffee that she only makes for sundays. He doesnt smell her out of the can cinnamon rolls either that she would normally wake him up with on a small tray with said coffee.

He finds it odd that her presence is lacking in the apartment. Standing, he makes his way over to her room knocking on it slightly. He hears shuffling from the other side but no one comes to open the door.

“Hey sweets, everything ok?” He knocks again to gain her attention.

“I-Im fine Bucky, please go away.” She stutters out to Bucky. Bucky is shocked by her statement not used to being pushed away by her.

“Oh ok, just let me know if you need anything.” He says quietly.

Y/N remained the same way over the next few days. She rarely came out of her room when she was in the apartment leaving Bucky on his own. She stopped making him meals out of kindness or filling up his canisters of water for workouts. She stopped baking him treats as midday pick me ups. She didnt wait for him to get out of classes so they could gossip about what was going on on campus. She didnt bother him at all.

Bucky felt uneasy about Y/N’s silence. He was hurt by her sudden disappearance. Hurt that she could just ghost him without any reason. But there was a reason, Bucky just didnt remember.

Y/N sluggishly walked into the apartment after taking an extensive exam in one of her classes. She tried to walk quietly throughout the apartment to not catch the attention of Bucky. She walks softly on her feet close to the opening of the kitchen.

“Hey.” A quiet voice makes Y/N jump in her spot. Her mission of going unnoticed failed. Bucky leans against the kitchen counter that is parallel to the opening of the kitchen. His feet are crossed in front of him, hands holding a cup of tea.

“Hi.” Her tone matches his. She turns her body to face his, hands fidgeting with each other. She slightly moved from foot to foot, a trait that had been acquired out of nerves. Bucky recognized her tic, his heart constricting at the thought that he might have done something to cause it.

“Y/N, please, what's going on?” Bucky can see that she's not wearing one of her normal outfits that are adorned in bright colors and fun patterns. Instead, her body is covered in a boring sweater that hides most of her body. She wears a large pair of jeans underneath, a belt tightly bounding it to her body.

“Nothing Bucky.” She dismisses. Bucky feels his anger peak. A range of emotion he tried to hide away breaching over its point. He missed his best friend beyond belief and all she could give was a few words.

“It's not nothing Y/N!” He snaps slamming his mug of tea on the counter. Y/N flinches at the sound. Her hands start to shake, not out of fear of Bucky but from unwarranted anxiousness. “I've given you your space but its killing me. I miss you Y/N. I dont get what happened?”

Y/N feels her eyes well up with tears.

“You hurt me Bucky.” It was Bucky’s turn to flinch hearing her words. He hurt her?

“I don't know what I did though.” His voice sounded childlike as he whined.

“At the party, you let your friends talk poorly about me. You-you let them call me a freak and-and weird. They made fun of my clothes and said you were hanging out with me out of pity and you just sat there and laughed James!” Her voice rose with every word. Bits and pieces of that night float around in his head. He can slightly remember the conversation but nothing is clearly showing in his head.

“I'm sorry they said that Y/N but you know that's not true. We both know our relationship, I don't know why you're letting them get to you.”

“They talked about my anxiety. You talked about my anxiety!”

“That's it? That's why you're not talking to me?” He exclaimed throwing his hands in the air.

“You let them sexualize me!” The kitchen filled with an uncomfortable silence. Bucky’s exterior softened.

“What?” His tone was drastically softer than it was earlier.

“You just sat and listened to them as they talked about my body. They talked about my boobs and if youve had sex with me and you said nothing. They said that they would hang with the loser if they could fuck me...How could you let them say that about me?” Y/N whimpered. Her hands cradled her face as she sobbed. Bucky saw the way her chest heaved with each sob, tears forming in his own eyes.

“I didn't know. I wouldn't have let them say those things sober. You have to know that.” He almost fell to his knees pleading for her forgiveness.

“You even said you wouldn't date me. I know its stupid but I thought you liked me back. You told me you loved me. You've taken me out on dates. You've kissed me for goodness sake!”

“I know and I'm sorry. I do like you, I don't know why I said that. I like you so much.” His knees buckled slightly but he held his ground.

“Obviously you dont Bucky. We should just stay away from each other from now on and I won't be renewing my leasing contract at the end of the semester.” She finalizes. Buckys whispers a small no in protest. “You really hurt me, Bucky. I would never let anyone slander you. I respect you too much to allow for someone else to disrespect you.”

With that being said, she gave Bucky one last look over before walking away. Bucky was knocked out of his thoughts at the sound of her door slamming shut and the lock being secured.

Bucky sat on the kitchen floor, the cold tile seeping through his pants to chill his legs. His face adorned with a frown, tears sliding down his warm cheeks. Y/N was his best friend and he ruined it by being a shitty person. He knows he should have defended her, defended their relationship.

Bucky’s rolly chair was his only source of entertainment at his desk in the lobby of the admissions office. Today was a slow day. There were only a few students who came in asking for help finding buildings or looking for the financial aid office. Some high school student came in for tours but his coworkers beat him to doing tours so here he was stuck in the quiet office. He had already stolen a large amount of guest snacks, a cold bottle of tea and a sugar cookie with the school's logo on it.

His chair spinning activities came to a halt when he heard the front door open with a small jingle sounding from it. He took a moment to let the dizziness fade away before he looked up. Bucky felt his breath stop in his throat.

There stood a girl with overalls and a bright colored top. She wore dark green converse, high tops, with frilly socks that peeked from the top. She had large glasses that framed her face perfectly. She was looking around the office, eyes wide with wonder. Her eyes finally met Bucky's, making a large smile appear on her face.

“Hi!” She exclaimed walking up to Bucky’s desk.

“Hey, what can I help you with today?” Bucky asked cooly.

“I just transferred here and I was wondering if you knew where I could apply for on campus jobs?” She placed her hands on top of the counter of Bucky’s desk. He admired her baby blue acrylics that had white flowers on them.

“Oh um, the admissions office is hiring. We do all of the tours for highschool students, or package and mail acceptance letters. Sometimes we plan scholarship events. It's an easy pay type of job. I just sit here and do homework my whole shift.” Bucky answers. “What's your name so I can get my boss to contact you?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Bucky quickly scribbled your name on a post it note and stuck it to his laptop as a reminder. “Do you really like this job or are you just trying to pull me in?” She jests with a small smile on her face.

“I mean it's a decent job but im sure with you working here it would make it ten times prettier.” Bucky smirked at the giggle that escaped Y/N. He wasn't normally a flirt but he couldn't help himself with this one.

“Oh really? How many times have you said that line to a girl?” Bucky put a hand to his chest in a fake offense.

“You think too low of me Y/N. I saved that one for the prettiest girl to walk through the door.”

“Hmm, ok. I'll believe it only because my ego needs this boost. Hey, you never told me your name. How am I supposed to write about this encounter in my journal if I don't have your name?”

“My name is James but I prefer if people just call me Bucky. Short for Buchanon, I know it's weird.” Bucky leans back in his chair, arms crossed. He can see her eyes checking out the way his muscles flex underneath his long sleeve shirt. He may have purposefully flexed a little extra for show.

“No, I love it. I dont think ive ever met a Bucky.” She counters. She leans forward, placing her elbows on the counter, her chest pressed against the front of the counter.

“Well I'm glad I'm your first Bucky.” He jokes with a small smile on his face. There was a small moment of silence shared between the two as they just looked at each other. Bucky couldn't help but think about how cute she was as Y/N thought the same thing.

“Oh gosh, I'm probably holding you up from your work.” She snaps out of her little spell rolling her eyes at herself. “I should get going.”

Bucky frowned at the idea of her leave, wanting nothing more than to continue talking to the new girl.

“Right, of course. Maybe I could get your number...so I can notify you about the job.” Bucky proposes. Y/N raises one eyebrow in question, a knowing smile placed on her lips.

“Sure thing bucky.” He hands her a pen and post it for her number. “I wouldn't be opposed to you using this number for things other than work too.” She suggested. She signed her name on the post it note ending it with a small heart.

“I will definitely take you up on that offer. No take backs though when I start sending you random shit.” She giggled, leaning up from her spot. Bucky basked at the sweet sound. He stood up to meet her on the other side of the desk.

“Well Bucky, it was lovely to meet you.” She stuck her hand out for him to shake, he reciprocated the action. Her hands were soft and warm, he thought. She gave him one last smile before walking away.

It was warm outside on the quad as Bucky sat by himself. He sat at the table that would normally be occupied by Y/N and him. Y/N would bring lunch- made by her. Anytime Bucky would try to help her by making lunch she would kick him out of the kitchen. Today, Bucky sat by himself, with no hand made lunch. He had a greasy bag of french fries and a large coke. He planned on eating his sorrows away.

“Hey Bucky!” A voice yelled out to him. Looking up from his fries, Bucky looked towards the sound that broke him out of his fries excursion. Tanner and Logan, his friends from the party, came walking over to him. They both sat down, throwing their lunch onto the table.

“Where's Ms. weirdo?” Tanner asks, mouth full of food. Bucky grimaced at Tanner's manners. He also felt the anger he should have felt on Saturday bloom in his chest.

“She's not weird.” Bucky snapped, fists tightening in his lap. Tanner scoffed, Logan laughing along with him.

“Says you. She is fucking weird. Did you finally get some from her or something? Defending her and shit.” Logan clapped Tanner on his back agreeing with him. “Shit, good for you dude. I would have fucked her a while ago. Probably would have kept her face down so I wouldn't have to see her-”

Before Tanner could finish his sentence, he was thrown from his seat from the powerful punch being landed on his jaw. His feet flew from where he was sitting, landing on his back with a heavy thud.

“Dude what the fuck?” Tanner stood wiping his face from the blood that started to trickle down from his bloody eyebrow. Bucky had never felt anger like this before. His heart was racing, his breathing labored. His cheeks were red and warm, eyebrows turned down.

“No, you don't get to make fun of her and make sexual comments about her.” Bucky snarled. Tanner rolled his eyes, walking closer to Bucky.

“Oh fuck off with that! You didn't defend her this hard on saturday.” Tanner's mistake after his words was shoving Bucky's shoulders back. Bucky reacted quickly by shoving Tanner with even more force.

Tanner threw a punch to Bucky’s jaw, making his head fly back. Bucky tackled Tanner to the ground, throwing punches left and right. Tanner fought back, hands flying landing punches wherever he could land them.

Logan was able to pull Bucky off of Tanner, warning the two that campus police would arrest them if they were caught. Both boys stared at each other fuming. Bucky snatched his trash and his backpack up, the scowl never leaving his face.

“If I ever see you looking or talking to Y/N, I will bash your face in.” Bucky growled.

Y/N felt better today. She found the strength to wear a cute outfit versus the oversized clothes she had been wearing prior out of fear. She didn't want anyone to look at her in any harmful way. She wanted to wear her cute outfits that were sometimes form fitting and short. She liked to wear her cute period pieces that had her own twist on them. She spent many years hating her body and the way she looked. She deserved to feel cute without thinking she is at fault for being sexualized and poorly treated.

She whipped out one of her favorite outfits today, loving the way it fit on her body making her feel confident. Sitting at the front desk of the admissions office, her feet propped up on the desk. Her shift was going by slowly, no one needing assistance this late in the day.

The door burst open making Y/N jump from her seat. She stood up shocked to see Bucky walk in with a huff. He wasn't supposed to work today but here he was. Y/N gasped looking at his cut lip and bruising eye.

“Bucky, what happened?” She maneuvered her way around the desk to stand in front of the beat up boy. She placed both of her hands on his cheeks to examine his injuries. He moved his face away from her tears brimming his eyes.

“I'm sorry Y/N. I'm really sorry. I should have protected you from them. I should've told them not to speak about you that way. You are more than some eye candy for men to act disgusting towards. You are beautiful and eclectic. You have a brilliant mind that shines brighter than anyone elses on this campus.” He spoke to her softly.

“I don't understand Bucky. What made you have this change of heart? You didn't give two shits about me last weekend.” She crossed her arms defensively.

“I know and I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. Maybe it was the alcohol but that's no excuse. I love you. I love all of you. You're not weird. You're your own person and I love everything about you. You do so much for me and I feel like shit for not doing the bare minimum for you.” His words stunned her.

“You love me?”

“God, with everything I have. Since the day you walked in here with those overalls. I've spent the past four years loving you.” Bucky whispered. He grabbed her hand, thumb rubbing over her knuckles.

“I love you too, Bucky.  I really do and I'm hurt. I don't think the hurt will go away for some time. You let them speak horribly about me. If you loved me like I was your girl, you would have defended me.” She spoke sorrowfully.

“I know, I know. I can't change the fact that I did nothing but I can tell you that I'm sorry. I'm always going to protect you. I did today. Tanner may be sporting a nasty goose egg on his eye because of his dumbass words.” Y/N giggled softly, touching his bruising knuckles.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

“I want to go back to normal. I miss you in the mornings and-and during our lunch breaks outside. I miss you.” Bucky stated.

“I miss you too.”

Bucky watched her eyes drop down to his lip, busted and all. He leaned forward slightly hoping she would meet him in the middle. She met him the rest of the way pressing her lips to his. Bucky relished this moment. He relished to be even sharing  moments with the girl he's been in love with since the second he saw her.

“I'm gonna be better, I promise.”

#metalbuck's 2k writing challenge #college!bucky #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #james buchanan barnes

[arvandus]

The Sound of Silence (18+ Aizawa x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Aizawa x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: After once again being stood up for a date at your favorite jazz club, you decide to give up dating entirely in favor of watching and fantasizing about your favorite jazz musician, Aizawa Shouta.  You had assumed you’d never meet him face to face.  You had assumed that he didn’t even know you existed.  You’re about to learn that your assumptions are wrong.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/NSFW; reader wears a sexy black dress (minimally described); minor sexual harassment; slow build; praise kink (if you squint); hand kink (probably); fingering; ‘baby’ petname.

Special Note:  A few days late, but here’s my contribution to the BNHarem January Collab ‘Making Beautiful Music’ posted by @kingexpl0sionmurder​​. It was supposed to be a oneshot, but this particular piece got a mind of its own and will at least have a sequel. If we’re all really lucky, it may become a multichapter series in the far and distant future, when my life is less crazy (I have ideas, ok??).  In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this fic!

Word Count: 9486

Recommended Song: No specific song at the moment, but this was what I listened to while writing this.

Lesson 1

It was crowded tonight, the air of the small club Midnight hot and heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and booze. The noise of conversations and laughing voices filled the air like the buzzing of a hive, as bodies mingled about like busy bees, each looking for their own bit of nectar.  Some looking to win romance.  Some looking to win money.  While others were simply winning by enjoying the company of friends.  Their movements were carried on the music that filled the space, upbeat jazz played by a three-person band.  It was comforting in its familiarity, developed over multiple visits – some with friends, some with coworkers, and some with potential love interests.

You sat at the bar, a drink held protectively in your hand as your eyes searched.  You checked your phone for messages but found none.  It’d been a full twenty minutes and you were pretty sure by this point that your date wasn’t going to show up.  It was supposed to be your first date in over a month, and you’d had high hopes for it - you’d clicked well with the person on your dating app (or so you thought), talking over the course of a couple of weeks before finally deciding to meet. So tonight, you’d put in a little extra effort into your appearance, donning a black dress that showed off your curves and putting careful attention into your makeup.

Damn. You were genuinely interested in this one.

You sent them a quick text in the hopes that you’d get a response.  Give them an extra ten minutes… You thought. Maybe they were caught in traffic or something.

But by the time you hit the 45-minute mark with no messages, you’d officially given up.  A half-hearted sigh fell past your painted lips. You weren’t really too surprised by this point.  You’d been having terrible luck in the dating scene for a while now.  Sometimes it was them.  Sometimes it was you.  But for whatever reason, each attempt ended in failure.

Oh well. It was likely for the best.  At least you would be able to enjoy the rest of your evening in solitude instead of enduring a potentially disastrous date.  And as for your attire, it certainly didn’t hurt to feel sexy, even if you had no one to share it with.

You loved this place. The atmosphere, the music… you’d even managed to make friends with the bartender Hizashi to the point that he’d walk you to your car on the nights that you stayed until closing.

Your eyes scanned around the room, observing.  Wooden tables littered the main floor, where small lit candles cast yellow light on observing faces, eyes trained on the musicians.  Booths lined along the far wall, filled mostly with men who puffed cigars over a game of cards, their raucous laughter carrying through the din.  Closer to the bar was an arrangement of tall, round tables with matching bar height chairs. A group of women, likely on a ladies’ night out, filled the table closest to you, taking shots and laughing, their heels perched on the rungs.  Waiters zigzagged their way through the crowd with expert precision, platters held high with drinks and snacks, while patrons milled about, waiting for an open table.

And, of course, there was the stage itself, where the jazz band finished their final piece before collecting their instruments and leaving the small stage.  All that was left from their departure was a black baby grand piano, property of the club.  Your pulse quickened as you checked your watch.  Was it that time already?

Not a moment later, there he was.  Long, black, wavy hair pulled back into a half ponytail, the hint of a 5 o’ clock shadow dusting his jawline and framing his lips.  He was dressed in simple clothes, as always… a black v-neck shirt with the sleeves pushed halfway up his forearms and dark jeans.  He entered the stage without so much a glance towards the busy room, instead making his way to the piano with his hands in his pockets. He sat down and from your position at the bar, you could barely see his long fingers arrange themselves at the keys, gently curled.

As soon as he began to play, the mood in the club shifted slightly from buzzing to relaxing.  The flow of his fingers across the keys drew a lazy melody reminiscent of rainy days and hot coffee; of snuggling under warm blankets, feet intertwined with a lover who danced their fingers across your skin, gently tickling your flesh the way his fingers tickled those keys.

Aizawa Shouta.

Of course you knew his name. The first time you’d heard him play, you’d felt weightless, your body going numb as every sensation coalesced into your chest like the forming of a star.  The question of his identity had fallen from your lips before you’d even realized it, and it had been Hizashi who’d answered you, a chuckle on his lips.

Fuck.  It felt like he was making love to you through the notes, each key meticulously selected like a carefully-worded love letter. It made your palms sweat against your glass, your breath hitching in your throat as that familiar sensation took you over, holding you hostage.

This.  This was probably why none of the people you dated ever seemed to work out.  You’d tried… God, you’d tried… some of them were nice, good people.  But you couldn’t help but search for that feeling – this feeling – each time you met someone new.  And every single time it fell short. It was an impossible standard, an invisible bar that no one was able to jump.  Deep down you knew this, yet you couldn’t figure out how to let it go. It was just music, right? Played by a handsome man who didn’t even know you existed.  But you didn’t want to let go of this feeling, to settle for someone that made you feel only an inkling of what he made you feel.  Or worse, to let it go and be left with emptiness.

You had no solutions. You were trapped in Aizawa’s maze of music, unwilling to find your way out as his notes weaved a cage around your heart.

You lost yourself to his melody, the club around you fading away.  Time lost its meaning as you watched his hands dance along the keys, his fingers nimble.  His half-lidded eyes were fixed on the instrument before him, his expression neutral.  To anyone else watching, he would look almost bored; but you’d seen him play often enough that you’d grown accustomed to reading the nuances of his body language, even across the smoky haze.  You knew his look of boredom was really a look of focus as he submerged himself in his art, his hands playing on instinct, a direct link between what he felt and what he expressed.

He loved what he did.

And you loved watching.

Hizashi’s voice interrupted your hypnosis.  “Another night solo, huh?”

You took a look at the bartender as he prepped some cocktails for some waiting patrons.  He had his wire-framed spectacles on again, the orange tinted ones, the color visible from the white backlight of the bar. His long blonde hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, and he wore a pinstriped shirt adorned with a black waistcoat.

You chuckled and took a sip of your drink. “It wasn’t supposed to be.”

“You got stood up again?” You shrugged and Hizashi shook his head slightly.  “If they ain’t willing to show up, then they ain’t worth your time.”

“Probably more like the other way around, don’t ya think?” you replied wryly.

Hizashi scoffed. “Don’t let them get to you. They don’t know what they’re missing.”

You grinned and set your glass down.  “Are you flirting with me, Hizashi?”

He grinned back and winked at you through his spectacles.  “Always, darlin’.”

You chuckled and returned your eyes to the stage. “It’s okay…” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s time I stopped trying.”

“Mhm…” Hizashi watched you stare at Aizawa and he raised an eyebrow.  “Y’know, I can get you an introduction if you’d like…”

“What??”

“Don’t play coy with me, darlin’.  You know who I’m talking about.  If you want to meet him, I can introduce you to him. We’re good friends, he and I. Known each other for years.” He commented.

You weren’t surprised by this news… you’d seen Aizawa join Hizashi at the bar on rare occasions after his performance was done.  But you’d always been occupied at a table with company when it happened. 

Watching him from a distance was one thing.  But actually meeting him?  Up close? Where you couldn’t hide your girlish infatuation?

You felt your pulse quicken with dread, heat flooding your body.  “No, it’s okay.  I wouldn’t want to inconvenience him.”

Hizashi gave you a skeptical look over the rim of his glasses before he shrugged. “Suit yourself, darlin’.”

The blonde stepped away, a new group of customers hollering for his attention.  You took a large gulp of your drink hoping it would quell your nerves at the thought of meeting the man on stage.  No. You definitely didn’t want to meet him.  The last thing you needed was for your interaction with him to be a dud just like it was with all the others, destroying your own secret little fantasy. He was handsome to look at.  And you fantasized about his skilled hands when you were in the quiet of your bedroom. But that was all it was; just harmless daydreams over someone you didn’t really know or plan to get to know. Besides, if you’d ever thought you had a chance with him, you certainly wouldn’t be trying to meet people through a dating app.

Gradually the time ticked by as you enjoyed watching the dark-haired man play, Hizashi stopping in to check on you from time to time and place fresh drinks in front of you.  You were content for the time being, enjoying the steady buzz you were maintaining as you enjoyed the ambiance.  Occasionally you people watched or engaged in conversation with Hizashi when he wasn’t busy… but for the most part, you relaxed as you observed the raven-haired pianist, letting his music ease the tension in your shoulders as the alcohol warmed your bones.

A few hours later, as you were busy talking with Hizashi, the final note on the piano rang out, signaling the end of Aizawa’s shift.  The sudden silence hit you like a bucket of ice water, and your eyes darted towards the stage, your heart pumping panic through your veins.  You had planned to leave just before his shift ended, just to make sure you didn’t run into him.  Maybe it was the daydreaming, or the conversations with Hizashi, or the alcohol... but you’d lost track of time.  Now you could only watch and wait to see where he’d end up, hoping beyond hope that he’d disappear like he usually did.  Only rarely did he linger for a drink.  What were the odds, right?

Tonight was one of those rarities, and you held your breath, your posture going rigid, as he sat himself a mere two seats away from you.  He never once looked at you, instead, addressing Hizashi.

“Old Fashioned.” He requested, his voice deep.  It sent a shiver down your spine as the blood in your veins turned molten.  You knew instantly that that sound was now committed to memory.

“Do you even need to ask?” Hizashi replied with a grin as he slid the drink to him.

You disciplined your eyes to stare at your own drink as if it’d open up a portal for you to escape through. But as much as you struggled to control yourself, the simple gesture of Aizawa reaching for his drink made you break eye contact with your own. Your eyes caught how his fingers circled around his glass, long and surprisingly manicured.  You couldn’t help but watch as he brought the drink up to his lips to take a sip, and from there your gaze followed the curve of his mouth, the stubble that framed it, his jawline, his eyes…

Your eyes made contact with his briefly and you quickly looked back down at your drink, your heart pounding in your chest.

Shit.  He caught you staring.

You took a couple of deep swigs, forcing the alcohol down your tight throat, letting the burn of it act as a punishment for your violation. This. This was why you didn’t want to meet him.  No words had even been shared yet and you were already making a fool of yourself.

“Long night?” Hizashi asked him.  In the background, the next performer entered the stage and began to play, and you couldn’t help but strain your ears over the music to listen for Aizawa’s answer.

“I’ve had worse…” Aizawa replied.  “You?”

“Busy, but I’m in good company at least.” Hizashi replied.  Your heart pounded in your chest as your fingers tightened around your glass.  Your eyes darted up to lock with the bartender’s and you caught him smirking at you, his small, pointed mustache following the curve of his upper lip. 

He wouldn’t…

Suddenly another customer called for him from the other end of the bar.  “Duty calls, friend.  Be back in a sec.”

And just like that, you were left alone with him.  Aizawa. Your mind froze as it warred with itself between actually talking with him or grabbing your things and running away. Surely Hizashi would understand, right? And you could always pay back your tab later.   You took another deep gulp of alcohol in the hopes that it’d burn away some of your cowardice. 

Before you could so much as open your mouth, the unwelcome sensation of an unfamiliar hand on the curve of your back made your body go rigid, every muscle poised to fight.  A second later, the scent of hot breath laced in the stench of alcohol choked the air around you as an unfamiliar man slid into the open seat between you and the object of your affection.

“Hey there beautiful…” he slurred.  “You’ve been by yourself all night… you in need of some company?”

You covered your hand over your glass and shifted away from him slightly, your demeanor cold.  “No.”

“Aw, c’mon doll… don’t be like that…” he grinned.  “You don’t come here dressed like that for no good reason…”

The man’s hand was still on your back, its presence making your skin crawl.  It made the fog of your buzz lifting slightly, your senses suddenly heightened in the presence of a potential threat.  Your eyes searched frantically for Hizashi.  He had a way of handling drunken idiots.  But he was stuck at the other end of the bar still, a drunk woman trying desperately hard to flirt with him. 

You were on your own, and this creep clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer. Your brain started to fabricate worst-case scenarios and planning for them, a million options running through your mind.  Screaming. Throwing your drink in his face.  A well-placed kick to his shin.  Your pepper spray.

Your free hand slipped into your purse, fingers closing around you’re the plastic cylinder.  The feel of it gave you a sense of security, even if it might be a last resort.  You didn’t really want to use it, especially with Aizawa sitting behind him… you never had to use it before, and you couldn’t guarantee your accuracy, especially in such a tight space.

You watched from the corner of your eye as the man’s free hand reached forward to grasp your own that covered your drink, and your grip around the cylinder tightened, a warning beginning to fall from your lips.  But your words were cut short as the man’s hand was suddenly grabbed by familiar, long fingers and bent back at an uncomfortable angle that made the drunk cry out.

“Hey! What the hell?!” the man demanded.

Aizawa took a casual sip of his drink with his free hand while maintaining his grip on the offender, before pinning him with a dangerous glare.  “She said no.”

The man’s hand left your back as he struggled to free himself from Aizawa’s grip. “Let go!”

“First you will apologize to her.” Aizawa ordered.

The man sputtered.  “For what?!”

You watched in shock as Aizawa’s eyes narrowed.  His thumb positioned itself on a digit and began pushing it slowly backward.

“For touching her without permission.  For insinuating that her attire makes it acceptable for you to ignore her boundaries. For being a disgusting pig.”

With each statement, he pushed the finger back farther and farther, until the man was buckling to his knees under the pressure in an attempt to alleviate the pain and prevent the digit from breaking.

“Ow ow ow! Okay!  I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” The man begged.

Aizawa held him for a moment longer before finally releasing him. “Good.  Now get out.”

The man scurried away until he was out of reach before turning around to glare daggers at him.  “Hey, fuck you man!”  He shouted.  But for all of his drunken bravado, he stormed out of the club clutching his sore hand to his chest, as heads turned to watch him leave.

The hum of voices within the club fell silent for a moment, with only the band continuing their music. After the front door closed, the noise of people chattering slowly returned, countless sets of eyes turning back to their tables.  Aizawa turned his gaze back to you, the lethal look gone from his dark eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded mutely, swallowing the dryness in your throat as your sweaty hand released the pepper spray in your purse.  Sensations warred within you, momentarily leaving you a confused mess.  The speed at which he came to your defense and his willingness to resort to violence on your behalf fueled a carnal need you didn’t even realize you had.  But even as hot arousal pooled deep in your gut, your heart still raced from the threat that had been quickly neutralized.

His eyes caught the movement of something over your shoulder and he cursed. “Shit.”

“SHOuTA!” Scolded a feminine voice.

He turned back to his drink, hunching his shoulders. “I told her not to call me that in public.” Aizawa muttered under his breath.

You spun on your stool to see the owner of the bar, Nemuri Kayama approaching, clad in a deep purple business suit with a dangerously low-cut black blouse. She was next to you in a matter of seconds, a cloud of strong perfume enveloping you as she snatched Aizawa’s drink from his hand as he began to raise it to his lips.

“What the hell was that?!” She demanded.  “What makes you think you can attack my customers like that?”

“Your customer was harassing this customer.” Aizawa pointed out.

Nemuri looked at you with her lavender eyes as if seeing you for this first time and paused in her verbal assault.

“Is this true?” She asked you.

She had a presence about her that instantly made you find your voice again.

“He was being handsy and wasn’t taking no for an answer.” You confirmed.

“Can I have my drink back now?” Aizawa asked.

She stared back and forth between the two of you for a moment before slamming the glass down in front of him, half of the contents spilling over the side. “Ugh. Fine.  But next time ask for one of my bouncers.  Or Hizashi.  Or me. Anyone but you.”

Aizawa’s mouth curled with a sly grin as he wiped at the spill with a napkin.  “And why is that?”

“Because you scare away customers.” She growled.

Aizawa stared into his drink, swirling its remaining contents.  “Well maybe you need better customers.” He took a sip.

“I’ll take whoever is willing to pay.  Unfortunately for you, this club doesn’t survive off of chivalry.”  She crossed her arms.  “Besides… it’s less about losing that drunken idiot and more about losing those who saw you almost break his hand.”

“I wasn’t going to break his hand.  I was going to break his finger.” Aizawa said.

You stifled a chuckle with a bite of your lip.

Nemuri rubbed the bridge of her nose in frustration.  “Don’t try to make it sound like that makes it any better.  And you!” She pointed at Hizashi, who had conveniently shown up not a minute before.  “You know better than to leave him alone like this!”

“I can either be a bartender or a babysitter, love.  I can’t do both.” Hizashi replied as he polished a glass.

 Nemuri grumbled under her breath before turning her gaze back to you. “I apologize for Aizawa’s violent behavior.” “Oh I didn’t mind…” you confessed with a small smile, and you could feel Aizawa’s eyes flicker to you briefly.

 “And I apologize for the inappropriate customer. Alcohol is no excuse for harassment.  I guarantee he won’t be returning to this club any time soon.” She looked at Hizashi.  “Get her a fresh drink.”  

 “Already on it…” He replied, sliding a new glass to you and removing your old one.

 She looked back at you. “And your drinks are on the house tonight.”

 “Thank you.” You replied.

 Nemuri gave a satisfied nod. “Now I need to go schmooze the rest of our frightened patrons, which is exactly how I didn’t want to spend my evening.” With a final glare at the two men, she stormed off, her pointed heels clicking on the hard floor.

 You stared at your new drink for a moment, the desire for it lost now.  “Hizashi, can I have a glass of water?”

 “Sure thing, darlin’.” Hizashi replied and placed a chilled glass in front of you.

You thanked him and took a sip followed by a long, deep breath.  Aizawa moved into the now-vacant seat next to you, and you welcomed the closeness. The gesture felt protective, a warning to anyone else who was dumb enough to try their luck with you after that display.  Noticing the closer proximity between the two of you, Hizashi quickly made himself scarce again.

“Thank you…” you said to Aizawa as your finger traced patterns into the condensation on the glass.

“It was nothing…” he replied.  There was a long silence before he spoke again.  “I hope I didn’t scare you.”

You looked at him with surprise then.  Scared? No. Aroused? Definitely.  The dampness of your panties were evidence enough of that, but he certainly didn’t need to know that.

“Not at all.” You confessed. “I actually really appreciate it.”

Aizawa’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as if a weight had been lifted.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” you asked.  “You were so fast…”

Aizawa gave a small grin. “Piano isn’t the only thing I’m good at…”

You had no difficulty believing that…

“Were you a bouncer or something at one point?” you asked curiously.

Aizawa chuckled. “Yeah, something like that…” he took a swig of his drink, the ice in it clinking.  The amber colored liquid was nearly gone now.

His response only gave you more questions, but you forced them down. There was a fine line between being curious and nosey, and you were too worried of crossing it, thus ending your conversation with him.

“You’re a regular here.” He commented.  

It wasn’t a question – it was a statement. He recognized you. You averted your eyes away in embarrassment, feeling suddenly exposed, your anonymity blown.  How long had he noticed you’d been coming here?  Did he know how closely you watched him?

“Yeah.” You confessed, as you took another sip of water. The alcohol next to it was calling to you, promising to ease your anxiety, but you refrained for the moment.  You wanted to keep your wits about you while you talked to him.

“No company tonight?” he asked.

Oh.  He watched you more closely than you ever realized. You weren’t sure whether you were feeling embarrassed or aroused.  Was it possible to feel both?

“Not this time.  I got stood up.” You replied.

“Sounds like you dodged a bullet there.” He said, looking into his empty glass.

You gave a dry laugh. “True.  I’ve dodged lots of bullets lately.”

Aizawa chuckled. “I believe it…”

Contrary to his outward aloof demeanor, he was nice.  You could feel the tension in your body start to dissipate as words came easier.

“If you ever think you want to try a dating app, don’t.” you commented. “It makes for good stories, but sometimes it really makes you want to give up on humanity.”

That earned an honest laugh as he looked at you with a grin.  “Well now you’ve piqued my curiosity.”

You couldn’t help but smile back.  This actually wasn’t so bad…

With amusement, you began to recount some of your more outlandish dating disasters with him, letting him in on the world of online dating from a woman’s perspective.  Aizawa listened with quiet interest, making the occasional wry joke or, for the more serious cases, wearing a deep frown of disapproval.  He was a good listener, and the conversation flowed easier than you had expected, words falling from your mouth without a second thought.  It felt natural.  Comfortable. And for the first time in a while, you felt like yourself.  After you ran out of stories, Aizawa offered a couple of his own, and you found yourself laughing at his own tales of dating woes. As Aizawa talked, Hizashi stopped by to quietly replace his empty drink before disappearing again, a pleased smile on his face.  His brief presence reminded you of your own glass pooling condensation on the paper coaster beneath it, and you returned to sipping its contents, once again finding the buzz you had been enjoying as you listened to Aizawa.

The time passed by as the two of you talked about the stress of dating and relationships. You’d learned that Aizawa rarely dated, but would occasionally have to endure awkward matchups thanks to Hizashi and Nemuri.  You learned how much of a private person he was, how he generally avoided dating culture entirely in favor of letting life play out on its own.  Everything about him exuded a man of experience and maturity, a man comfortable in his own skin and content with his life.  You couldn’t help but admire him as you soaked in every little detail that you’d wanted to know, committing every little bit of information he offered up to memory.  He was everything you’d imagined; kind, respectful, and serious with a sly sense of humor that he only shared once he was feeling comfortable.

Once the topic was exhausted, you sighed.  “I think I’m done with dating.” You confessed.  “I’ll just resign myself to my singlehood.”

Aizawa pinned you with a pensive look.  “Is that what you want?”

Something about the tone of his voice made your pulse race with excitement.

“Well… It’s better than being repeatedly disappointed.” You gave him a side glance as you took sip of your drink.  “But if the right guy comes along, I wouldn’t say no…”

“Hm… the right guy…” Aizawa muttered as he returned his gaze to his glass.

Your statement was a bold one, filled with invitation.  You hadn’t exactly planned for it to come out that way, but it was too late to take those words back now.  You quickly tried to turn the topic back to him.  “How about you?  Any special someone for you?”

He chuckled. “No.  No special someone.  Not yet, at least.”

The words fell from his mouth like breadcrumbs leading to a secret as he eyed you over the rim of his glass. You felt lightheaded and warm, the tips of your fingers buzzing with numbness. Maybe it was the half-finished drink in your hand.  Or maybe it was the look in Aizawa’s eyes that made you feel drunk, the Earth spinning under your feet as you mentally struggled to find some sort of purchase to keep from falling.  

Was he…?

Hope held you captive and you suddenly became acutely aware of how close you were to him.  Your eyes traced the scruff on his jawline, the stitching of his shirt, the slope of his neck as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a swallow. A stray strand of hair had come loose from his half-ponytail and was hanging over his forehead, begging to be touched. Your fingers twitched.  If you reached out to tuck it back into place, would he let you?

You couldn’t muster the courage and averted your eyes. You were filled with alcohol and infatuation, you reasoned.  Your defenses were down, your judgment potentially impaired… what if you were reading into something that wasn’t there?  What if you were wrong?  

You watched Hizashi close out a tab for an older couple as you took a sip of your water.

Warmth pressed against your forearm and looked down to see Aizawa’s arm resting against yours. All of your attention honed in on the softness of his shirtsleeve and the warmth of his skin as his hand fiddled with a paper coaster, flipping it over and over with each tap on the counter.  The contact was intentional, calculated in its subtle intimacy.  It was a silent question… a tentative invitation, absent of assumptions or expectations.  Your doubt evaporated like mist and you understood.  

He was interested.  In you.

Your heart did a somersault in your chest as you sat there, stunned.  Time froze as everything that’d transpired throughout the evening flitted through your mind.  It was a perfect amalgamation of circumstances, leading to this single moment, giving you the one thing you wanted most.  You held your breath as you stood on the precipice, uncertain if your next step would make you fall or let you fly.  

You stared at the contact and carefully… slowly… brushed your pinky along the back of his hand. It traced the vein that stood out there, following it to the knuckle. His own hand let go of the coaster his was holding, his own pinky linking with yours in affirmation.

You couldn’t help the elated smile that spread across your face in that moment and when you looked up at him with a shy glance, he had a smile of his own, small and secretive as he stared at your linked fingers.  Slowly the rest of his fingers followed, twining themselves into yours until he held your hand, his thumb brushing sensually against your skin.  That single action alone was enough to reignite the fire in your loins, your blood racing through your veins from the epicenter of his touch.

Hizashi’s voice crashed through your private, titillating moment.  “We’re closing up, lovebirds…”

Your hand pulled away from Aizawa’s on instinct as you looked around the now empty club.  Only staff remained, finalizing the last bit of cleanup and arranging the furniture for the next day.  How had it gotten so late so fast?

“You want me to walk you to your car?” Hizashi asked, a knowing grin on his face.

In all that had happened that evening, you’d forgotten about that little arrangement.  But you weren’t ready to leave just yet…

Aizawa’s voice answered before yours could.  “Leave me the keys to the place.  I’ll walk her tonight and lock up when we leave.”

“Suit yourself.” Hizashi replied with a shrug.  He placed a set of keys on the counter.  “Don’t tell Nemuri, though.  She’ll kill me.”

“Your secret’s safe with me, friend.” Aizawa replied.

With that, Hizashi gave a small salute, grabbed his coat, and left.  You watched, your heart pounding as the door closed behind him, leaving a deafening silence in its wake.

You were alone with Aizawa. Completely and utterly alone.

Your turned back to face him and froze.  Aizawa still sat on his stool, but he faced you now with an elbow propped against the counter, and that simple distinction made his presence fill your space.  He stared at you, the look in his eyes unfettered now, deep and hungry. “You really do look beautiful tonight.” He complimented.

With the way the words fell from his mouth and curled warmly into your chest like a cat, you believed him. You felt beautiful.

“Thank you.” You said with a soft smile.  “You look handsome yourself, Aizawa.”

He took your hand again and slowly began to lean forward, closing the small distance between you.  “Call me Shouta.”

You swallowed. “Shouta.” You whispered, feeling the name on your lips.

His dark pupils dilated and you felt his other hand on your jawline, warm, long fingers wrapping towards the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss.

His lips were warm and soft as his stubble tickled your skin, and you leaned into it fervently, your hands finding their home on his chest. You could feel his toned muscles beneath the black cotton and a purr found its way to the back of your throat. Shouta took it as an invitation, coming off of his barstool to stand between your now parted legs, his arm wrapping itself around your waist as his tongue slid along your lips.  You opened your mouth eagerly to taste the bourbon there, to feel the wet muscle dance and slide against your own.  Every touch, every taste, every smell enveloped you further and further in the essence that was Shouta until your entire body was singing, teetering on the edge.

Oh God… you were not going to let yourself cum just by kissing him.

You pulled out of the kiss slightly as your hands pressed gently against his chest, and he retreated from you just enough for his eyes to search your face, a silent question in them.

“I-I’m sorry, I just…” your words fell pitifully from your flushed, wet mouth, your voice shaky with pent-up arousal.

One second longer. One second longer is all it would have taken…

Shouta’s hand on your back began to rub soft, slow circles. “Would you like some water?” he asked, a small smile on his lips.

You nodded, and he kissed your forehead before handing you your glass.  You drank greedily before handing it back to him, half-empty.

“Have you ever been kissed like that?” he asked curiously, as he placed the glass back down onto the counter.

You gave a small laugh and shook your head.  “No… not like that.”

Your confession left you feeling embarrassed, even as your chest felt it would burst from this latest turn of events.

You kissed Aizawa Shouta.

Actually, he kissed you.

You needed a moment to collect yourself, to process everything you were feeling.

So, you completely changed the subject.

“How long have you been playing piano?” you asked.

Shouta didn’t miss a beat, returning to sit on his stool to give you the space you silently needed. But his hand still held yours, resting on the counter as his fingers twined with yours. It gave you a sense of reassurance, that everything was okay, despite your awkward hesitation.

“My grandpa had one when I was a kid.  Used to mess around on it.” He explained.  “He finally got me lessons from a guy he knew, and I’ve loved it ever since.”

You smiled as you watched his thumb trace across each of your fingernails.  You returned the gesture, tracing the details of his own hand. It was like living a dream, to see them up close and feel them, every fingernail, every vein, even the pads of his fingertips. The number of times you’d fantasized about these hands…

“I always wanted to learn how to play, but my family could never afford lessons.” You confessed. “But my mom used to have all of these old jazz albums, and I used to sit in my room and listen to them for hours.”

“I can teach you.”

Your fingers stopped their tracing.  “What?”

“I can teach you.” He repeated.

You shook your head.  “Um, no it’s okay… I’d probably be a terrible student anyway.”

“A student can only be as bad as the person teaching them.  Follow me.”

Before you could protest further, Shouta’s hand closed around yours and pulled you from your seat.  He led you up the steps of the stage and across it until you reached the black piano sitting forlornly in the empty space.

It felt strange being up on the stage, especially with the club being completely empty.  The stage light was bright and warm on your shoulders, and the silence sounded different there, affected by the difference in acoustics.

Shouta sat at one end of the black bench and pulled you down by your hand until you were sitting next to him.  The bench was small, meant for only one person, so you had to press yourself against him to be able to sit without feeling like you were going to fall off. Even then, it wasn’t the most comfortable arrangement, but you endured, if only to be close to him.

He released your hand and began his instruction.

“First thing you should know is how to find middle C.  Everything else will center around this.”  He pressed the white key with the thumb of his right hand, the note singing out into the empty space.  “Then, it’s D, E, F, G, A, B, which brings you back to C. That creates an octave, also known as a scale.” He played each note as he spoke.

“What about the black keys?” you asked curiously.

“Those are the half notes. Don’t worry about those right now.” He arranged his hand back how he initially had it, his thumb on the middle C key.

“Now,” he continued, “First, you must learn how to move your fingers along the keys.  Like this.”  Shouta demonstrated the motion again, his fingers playing each note slowly in a steady rhythm.  “The switch of the fingers is important. It will help you flow quickly and easily without having to watch where your hands are, which will be important for reading sheet music.”  He repeated the motion again, the sounds once again ringing out.  Then, he removed his hand.  “Your turn.”

You bit your lip and placed your hand how you’d seen his arranged and tried.  The notes were clumsy, lacking in rhythm and falling together as you forgot in your nervous haze where the switch of the fingers happened. Embarrassment flooded you and you withdrew your hand.

“Don’t expect to get it right on the first try.” He reassured.  “Let’s try it again.  Try to keep your fingers loose, curved like a bowl.”

Shouta modeled it again. You watched, but your focus was muddled with anxiety, attraction, and likely alcohol.  It was a poor recipe for learning, but you knew he was trying to make you feel comfortable, and you didn’t want to turn down his kindness.  You arranged your hand back on the keys again and tried again, with little improvement.

“I’m sorry, I…” you stuttered as you clutched your hand in your lap protectively.

His hand covered yours and you looked up at him to see him staring at you with warm patience.  “It’s okay.  If you don’t want to do this, we can stop.”

You stared at him, mouth slightly open as you thought about it.  You knew he wouldn’t hold it against you if you wanted to quit.  And sure, you felt silly being so poor at it when sitting next to someone who’s skills you idolized.

But did you really want to stop?  How often would you get an opportunity like this?

“No, it’s okay.  Keep going, I want to learn.” You replied.

Shouta watched you for a moment longer before he placed his hand back on the keys.  “Place your hand over mine.”

You followed his instructions, your hand looking small compared to his.  His skin was warm, and it calmed the shaking in your fingers.

“Watch where the fingers land.  Feel how they move.” He played the notes, and you could feel the tendons of his hand tense and shift, his fingers rising and falling like a wave.

“It’s like they’re dancing.” You said.  “You switch to your thumb on this key… E?”

“Yes.” Shouta replied in approval.  “Your turn.”

This time you focused, remembering the feel of how his hand had moved under yours as you played the keys, switching your fingers at the right time.  The improvement was noticeable.

He smiled.  “Good.  Now, for the other hand.  You’ll start one octave lower.  Can you find it?”

Your arm crossed Aizawa’s chest to press the white key, letting the sound ring out.

“Perfect.  Only this time, your pinky will sit on this key, with the others following after.”

You placed your fingers across the white keys.  “Like this?”

Shouta nodded.  “Now you’ll try the same progression with your left hand.  The middle finger will follow after the thumb plays the G note.”

You removed your hand so he could place his own and demonstrate it for you.  You followed after him, imitating his actions, but this time your attempt was worse than your first, your hand angled awkwardly due to limited space as you pressed yourself against him.

“That was terrible.” You laughed. “I can’t reach very easily.”

A small mischievous smile formed on Shouta’s lips and he slipped his hand around your waist.

“Come here.” He said.

You didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his lap.  His right hand settled itself against your stomach as his legs parted slightly to make room for yours, your knees drawn together between his.  The heat of his touch seeped through the fabric of your dress, weaving a tight knot of desire deep in your core that made your body go rigid as you tried to keep yourself from melting against him.

“Is this okay?” He asked, leaning slightly to see your face from his position behind you.

You licked your lips and swallowed, giving a nod.  “Y-Yes…” you answered shakily.  “Are you okay…? I’m not too heavy?”

Shouta gave a soft laugh. “No.  Not at all.” His breath was hot against your skin and you could feel the scratch of his stubble as he spoke, sending goosebumps over your body. “Let’s continue.”

He placed his left hand on the keys again with ease, regardless of how poor his view of the piano was with you in front of him.  He knew this instrument like the back of his hand; could probably play it with his eyes closed and never miss a note.

He played the simple notes again, C through B, fingers tip-toeing across the keys as he said their names out loud, helping you to remember them.  You watched carefully for where the shift in finger arrangement happened, the middle finger following after the thumb just as he’d described.

“You try.” He instructed, his right arm still wrapped around your waist, holding you close against him. You could feel the warmth of his chest against your back now, feel the strength of his body beneath you.

You loved this.  The lap-sitting, the lesson, the praise. Each time Shouta praised your improvements it sent a thrill through you from your head down to your toes.  To be complimented by him, even for something as simple as pressing a few keys… it only made you want to please him more.

You played the progression of notes with renewed motivation, once again showing improvement from your first attempt.

“Good.”

Your spine straightened against him slightly.  The thumb of his hand caressed your abdomen where he held you.

“Now you need to learn to do the same but in reverse, until you’re back where your fingers started.”

You moved your hand away to let him demonstrate and his right hand left your stomach, leaving an ache in its wake.  You watched both of his hands play the simple notes up and down, working together with ease. But you knew it was all a ruse… he made it look easy, but if you tried to do the same, you’d fumble clumsily.

“I don’t know about this…” you chuckled.

“It takes practice,” he replied, “until it becomes muscle memory.”

Shouta demonstrated it again, up and down.  And again.

You placed your hands over his, wanting to feel the touch of his hands under yours more than the actual pressing of the keys.  All you wanted was his arm around your waist again, his hand on your lower abdomen.  His touch was tantalizing, and you wanted more of it.  

He completed the simple scale progression two more times with your hands on top of his.

“Do you want to try?” he offered.

His hands left the keys to hold you again, his arms wrapped more tightly around you this time. You leaned against him, reveling in being held in his arms.

“I’m going to mess up.” You warned.

“Just take it slow.”

You shook your head a little and let out a small breath, shifting your position in his lap slightly as you leaned forward to focus on the keys.  His arms loosened around you, his hands shifting to your thighs.

It was likely an innocent action, intended to give you the freedom to move as you made yourself comfortable.  But as soon as the tips of his fingers touched the bare skin below the hem of your dress, that sharp zap of arousal tingled the ends of your nerves, causing you to suck in air and part your knees slightly, your walls throbbing in hopeful anticipation.

It wasn’t intentional. Your body just… reacted.  But Shouta noticed instantly.

There was silence at first, his hands still on your thighs, waiting.  Finally, he spoke.  “Y/N….” his voice was huskier now.  “How long has it been since you’ve been cared for?”

Embarrassment flooded through you.  Embarrassment at your sensitivity to his touch, embarrassment at the answer to his question... You hesitated a moment before words fell clumsily from your mouth. “I, um… a long time.”

A low hum rumbled from Shouta’s chest as his fingers brushing gently along the inside of your thighs until they dipped just beneath the black fabric. The action was experimental, a testing of the waters, and it brought immediate results.  Your thighs widened the slightest bit more as you failed to fight back a whimper, your hands grasping his arms in need.  Not a moment later you could feel the growing firmness of his cock begin to press against your backside, despite the restriction of Shouta’s jeans. Shouta’s hands halted again their movement, waiting. He was miraculously under control despite his obvious arousal, and you envied him.

“Do you want me to touch you?” he asked, his voice low.

Of course you did.  It was obvious you did.  Why else would your legs be parting like the red sea as if he were Moses?

But for some reason, your body language wasn’t enough for him.  He needed to hear it.  A sense of urgency filled you, desperate need driving you.  At this point, you’d give him whatever he wanted…

“Yes.” you begged. “Please, Shouta... Please touch me.” You leaned back against him, allowing the angle of your hips to tilt as your hands guided him further beneath the skirt of your dress.

With you draped onto him, your head tilted back, Shouta kissed the curve of your neck as his hands gently gripped the insides of your knees, pulling your legs apart until they were draped over his own.  You were open for him now, your skirt hiked halfway up by the spread of your legs.  

Your heart pounded in your chest with so much excitement that you could feel your own pulse in your neck and between your legs.  This was happening… This was really happening… How many times had you fantasized about this very thing?  How many times had you longed for this man, whispered his name on your tongue only to be met by the empty silence?  And now here he was, freeing you from the shackles of your loneliness in the best way possible.

Shouta’s hands pushed the fabric up the rest of the way until it was pooled around your hips, exposing your panties.  The thin cotton fabric did little to protect your aching cunt from the cold air, and you sucked air through your teeth at the sensation.  His fingers traced invisible lines up the inside of your thighs, leaving nothing but singing nerves in their wake that cascaded into a shiver that rolled over your flesh, leaving goosebumps.  Your body was already moving of its own volition, hips rolling, eager for Shouta’s fingers yet simultaneously attempting to grind down onto his restrained cock.  Your breaths were already coming in hot and ragged, every inch of you frantic for the release that it had been denied all evening.

Shouta gave a low growl, his left hand holding down your hip, halting your movements.  “You better stop that…” he warned.  

No doubt your girating was making things difficult for him on his end.  But you didn’t care.  You were an unfettered, horny mess now.

A whine escaped your lips at his restriction.  In response, Shouta’s left hand trailed up the length of your body, caressing over your breast before finding its home on your neck.  His palm was against your voice box now, his fingers long enough to wrap around your throat and reach your jaw.  There was no force in his hold, but it still held power over you, ushering your body into stillness while your chest heaved with heavy breaths.

“Patience.” He whispered. “Let me take care of you.”

Shouta followed up his words with more gentle kisses along your neck, your shoulder… wherever his lips could reach with you on his lap.  The feel of his hand on your throat was a reminder of who was in control.  But it was also a promise - a promise to ensure your needs would be met.

Once Shouta was sure he had your compliance, his right hand travelled the remaining distance of your inner thigh to arrive at your panties, where moist heat greeted him.

A low hum of approval rumbled in his chest, vibrating against your back.  “You’re so wet.”

A pitiful “yes” was all you could muster before the tips of his fingers brushed gently against your clothed sex, stealing your voice and replacing it with a gasp.

Slowly Shouta pet you, his fingers stroking gentle circles over the wet cotton, teasing the sensitive flesh beneath.  With his hand still on your neck, you kept your body torturously motionless as he gradually increased the pressure of his digits, reducing his speed as he passed over your clit to drag the pads of his fingers over the bundle of nerves.

You swallowed the pooling saliva in your mouth, the action causing your throat to press against his hand. “Please…” you begged. “I can’t…”

Shouta was strict, but not cruel.  He obliged, slipping his fingers beneath the cotton to swim his digits into your juices, never breaking his circular, rhythmic motion over your slick entrance.  The scent of your arousal surrounded both of you, thick and heavy.

“Fuck, Y/N…” he growled against your skin.

Two of his fingers dipped into you then, slow at first, allowing you to stretch around him as your walls quivered.  Your thighs tensed at the intrusion, welcoming the stinging pressure as your core burned with fire. He withdrew his fingers slowly and you lifted your head to watch in carnal fascination to see his fingers shining wet down to the knuckles. He pushed them into you again, curling his fingers towards the sensitive, spongey tissue along the top of your walls, his thumb pressing down on your wet clit.  A zap of stimulation fired from your core before fizzling away, a teasing warning of what was to come.

“Oh-Oh fuck…” you gasped as one hand reached back and grabbed a fistful of Shouta’s thick, dark hair.

He picked up his pace then, his thumb driving firm circles around your swollen pearl as the sounds of your wet hole being finger-fucked filled the silence of the empty stage.  With each pass of his thumb, with each curl of his fingers, the heat grew hotter, your cunt swollen and burning with the need for release.  Your thighs were tensed so tightly now that it made your legs lift and you had to brace your feet against the piano, discordant notes ringing out to join the sounds of your heavy pants and wet squelching in a lewd song. Shouta’s hand left your throat to hold you under your thigh to keep you steady as his other hand worked fast and hard to unravel you.  With the absence of his touch on your neck, you were free to move your hips, grinding hard into his hand, his lap, whatever part of him you were touching.  Your grip on his hair tightened, mirroring the tension building within you, clinging to him like the boughs of a tree knowing that any second the flood would come.

Shouta was your lifeline, your rock, your destroyer.  You were the waves and he was the shore, and your body tensed to prepare itself to crash against him.

“Come on, baby…” Shouta whispered gruffly.  “I’ve got you. Cum for me.”

You came with a cry, loud and frantic as your walls clamped down on his fingers.  The ball of heat that you had been carrying like a stone exploded within you, incinerating every nerve from the inside out, leaving nothing but sweet, sharp, euphoria in its wake.  Your walls spasmed repeatedly, sucking greedily on Shouta’s drenched fingers, as you cried and moaned, bucked and arched.  Shouta’s arm was around your waist, holding you against him to keep you from sliding off of his lap as you rode the high of your orgasm, tumbling like a waterfall over and over again to finally become a puddle in his strong arms.  

Shouta held you silently against him as your body twitched with aftershocks of pleasure.  Once your spasms subsided and he was sure you wouldn’t fall from your perch, Shouta released his hold around your waist to draw his fingers up and down your arm, creating goosebumps under his gentle touch.  His fingers were still in you, his hand cupped between your legs.  The warmth of his touch on your tired cunt was comforting, and it brought forth a content moan from your parted lips.  Shouta smiled as he planted another kiss on your shoulder.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed like that with him.  But you finally made yourself sit up when you felt sleep starting to drag you down into its murky depths, your limbs feeling heavy.

Finally, Shouta spoke. “Better?” he asked.

You gave a laugh.  “Much.”  You looked down at yourself in amusement. “You made a mess of me, though…”

Shouta gave a satisfied hum and stared at his hand that held you.  “I like you messy.” He stated.

“So, you’re just gonna leave me like this?” you teased.

He laughed and withdrew his fingers, wiping the slick coating them onto his jeans.  “As much as I like that idea, no.”  He adjusted your ruined underwear and the hem of your dress back into place before turning you around in his lap.  His hands were planted on your rear, keeping you securely and comfortably in place.  “It’s late. We should get you home.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him.  “What about you?” you asked, your eyes glancing down to his lap. Your hands began to trail down his chest to reach the button of his pants, eager to reciprocate.

Shouta smiled at you and grabbed your hands, bringing them back up to plant kisses on your palms.  “Tonight was about you. There’ll be more opportunities for both of us later.”  You pouted and he chuckled. “Don’t give me that face.”

“It hardly seems fair…” you muttered.  You were looking forward to enjoying more of him… you didn’t want tonight to end.

He hummed as he began to trail kisses along your jawline and you arched your neck to allow him better access.  “We both… need sleep.”

Sleep? With his mouth on your skin, sleep was the last thing on your mind.  Shouta pulled his lips away to look into your eyes again and you could see the fatigue there, dark circles framing bloodshot eyes.  He really did look incredibly tired, and you couldn’t help but wonder how late it really was.  You brushed the errant strand of hair off of his forehead, tucking it behind his ear.

“Okay...” you softly agreed.

“You should come back tomorrow night.” He mused, the mischief back in his eyes. “We can continue our piano lessons.”

“I’d like that.” you smiled.

 You couldn’t wait.

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