#But i do recall us being in this small room that had a fridge in it

[saltpepperbeard]

i consider myself to be extremely stede coded, but now rhys came to me in my dream last night and i no longer know what to believe ✌️😔

[spaceisout]

𝙨𝙚𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙 // 𝙠𝙚𝙞𝙜𝙤 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙖𝙢𝙞

Words: 2.100

Summary: being married young was never in either of your plans, more or less being married to a hero and a quirkless human. still, it made an interesting switch to your lives, one you might not regret.

Warning(s): angst, fluff,

A/n: I apologize for the delayed update, my week became a lot more busier than I had expected. Also taglist is available to anyone who would like to be updated. Any donations are appreciated it is a way I can help contribute to pay bills while I'm able to get a job <;3

Links: donate to the author, masterlist (coming soon), current series list

Taglist: @alligator-person @bakugosgirl01 @deathkat657 @justanerd1 @multilingual-birb @urdecentartist09

◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤ ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

4 ◁ II ▷ 6

"Woah what is going on?" Keigo asked bewildered.

You quickly walked passed him to your room, "I have stuff to prepare for today's school event!"

He scratched the side of his head watching as you walked from one room to the other. "Well... is everything okay? Do you need a hand?"

"I have most things done." You calmly said grabbing two bags from your room and settling it down beside the living room couch.

"Today's..." Keigo mumbled knowing today was an important day. You had mentioned it to him a few days prior to today's big date. "Oh!" He snapped his fingers together, remembering. "The sport's festival!"

"Yeah!" You exclaimed going into the kitchen and taking out some ingredients from the fridge.

"Do you need a hand?" He walked over, standing in front of the counter watching as you started to make small balls of rice in your hand.

"Um can you get me out the filling? I forgot to take it out." You answered, making a small curved spot in the rice to put in the filling.

"Sure!" Taking the container out labeled with "rice ball filling" he placed it next to you down on the marbled counter. "Can I help make some of them?"

A smile rested on your lips, nodding. "Make sure you wet your hands in the water so the rice doesn't stick to your hands."

"Got it."

"Have you made some before?" You asked grabbing a spoon and scooping some of the filling to put in the middle.

"I used to make them plain when I was a kid." He answered as he recalled his childhood being difficult for a kid his age. "We were poor... sometimes it was hard to make any money to bring home and put food on the table. My father was a criminal who stole, my mom didn't have the guts to leave him. So I had to be creative with the food we did have."

Your eyes began to water. You knew very little about his past life, he only said bits and pieces assuming it wasn't something he was comfortable talking about. You couldn't picture a child his age going through such trauma and violence. Keigo was the sweetest person you had ever met, realizing he went through something like that made your heart ache for him.

Keigo noticed you had become quiet, the half made rice ball sat on the empty plate. He placed his own down and turned to look at you, silent tears ran down your cheeks with your hands clenched tightly.

"(name)... are you―?"

You shook your head, "I―I'm fine..." Sniffling you wiped away your tears. "I'm sorry..."

"Hey, why are you crying?" He softly spoke, placing both hands on each of your cheeks and wiped the tears that escaped gently with his thumbs.

"It's just―" you sniffled trying to speak but became difficult to say anything when you kept remembering what he had told you. "You're an incredible human being... so honest and kind. Someone who doesn't hesitate to save an innocent bystander or lend a hand to someone in need. Knowing you went through something so traumatizing... it breaks my heart because you don't deserve that."

His eyes softened, pulling you into a tight embrace. Gently he caressed the back of your head, smiling with such fondness knowing you cared.

"It happened a long time ago―"

"S―still... I never pictured your past to be so harsh to you." You shut your eyes tightly trying to stop the tears. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to lend a hand o―or even be there to console you when you were just a child."

"(name)." he kissed the side of your head, "I'm okay... actually the day that Endeavor caught my father and put him away in jail was something I never expected to feel good about."

You slightly pulled away to look at him. "R―really?"

Keigo nodded holding the side of your face. "It gave me the ability to take that weight off of my chest. He wasn't a good person and knowing he was gone made me feel reassured that my mom would be safe."

"Have you seen her... at all?"

"I went to go see her after I was out of the hospital when everything happened but she wasn't there anymore."

"I'm sorry... I―I did not know..."

Smiling small he rubbed both sides of your arms comforting you, "Don't apologize, maybe for time being it's best if she's away from the city for awhile. I want her to be safe, who knows maybe in the future I'll take you to go meet her."

"I would like to meet her someday." His wings slightly opened wide hearing you. "I want to... understand where you came from and learn more about you."

There was no clear answer as to what it was about you or the way you talked that brought him comfort. A feeling he had long forgotten about since he was a kid, the longer he stayed around with you the more he was starting to see what it meant to care about someone else.

The sound of your phone ringing broke the moment apart, you pulled away to answer the call. Meanwhile, a smiling Keigo went back to making the small rice balls for your students.

"(name)! Are you almost here?" Mio asked as she started to set up the tables while holding her phone between her ear and shoulder.

"Y―yeah, I am currently finishing getting everything else that I need." You said, "How's the set up going?"

'We are currently half way, the students are doing some last minute practice for the event."

"Are the parents starting to arrive as well?" You asked.

"Um some... but there's still a lot more left for them to arrive." She explained, "Do you need any help?"

"No it's alright I should be leaving in a couple of minutes." Walking over to the counter you started to pack what was already done.

"Great! I kinda need a hand with some last minute things―" Mio looked over at two of her students playing with the water. "Rei! Chi! I told you both to place the water balloons not to throw them around." She sighed, "I have to go before these two end up soaking wet, I'll see you soon."

Chuckling you nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "Okay, good luck with those two."

"These rice balls are done." Keigo proudly smiled as they were individually wrapped tightly in seran wrap.

"Keigo, they look amazing!" You smiled at him, "Thank you for helping me out."

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" He leaned over the counter to look at you.

"Thank you for the the offer, but everything else is already handled."

He slightly pouted, "Okay."

Walking over to him you held the side of his face gently. Keigo leaned in to your touch feeling goosebumps rise on his body.

"It sucks you can't be there to meet my students." You half smiled, "They would have loved to see you."

"Trust me it would have been an honor to meet the kids who are being taught by an amazing teacher."

Leaning in, you kissed his cheek softly. "I should get going."

Keigo nodded letting you go. He ended up calling a taxi for you to take you to school along with helping you to carry your belongings and food.

Resting his forearm against the doorway, "Let me know when you arrived?"

"I will." You said and waved at him goodbye.

He waited for you until he made sure you left safely to school and quickly got ready to leave.

Upon arriving at school you thanked the driver and did your best to juggle all the things you had to bring.

"Woah." A chuckle was heard, coming from behind you. "How much stuff did you bring?"

Looking over your shoulder you saw it was Hizashi. "Care to lend a hand though?"

"Sorry," smiling he walked over and grabbed the bags off of your shoulders. "I did not expect you to bring these many things."

"I saw how hard everyone was working and wanted to make some food, or well treats for them." You explained walking beside him.

"Did your husband lend you a hand?"

"He did," you smiled walking inside the building. "I hope everyone likes the rice balls."

"You did the same filling?"

"Yup!"

"Then everything will be fine." Hizashi assured you, "All the kids are excited to begin soon."

"Hizashi!" Rapid footsteps could be heard getting louder as they approached you both. "We need your help setting up the last of the tables outside please."

He sighed, "I thought Rei was helping you Mio."

"He was called in to the principal's office, there's only one more table left to set up... I promise!" Mio clasped her hands together, begging. "Please?..."

"Alright." Placing the things down he motioned for her to lead the way, "I'll be back to help you (name)."

You waved him off, "I got this, there's no need to."

"Thank you!" Mio exclaimed, relief she quickly walked down the hallway and out to the open field.

As you were putting your things away and leading the food onto your small cart you got a message from your sister.

Himiko | 8:05 AM

I wanted to let you know that I talked with mom and dad about your situation.

"You're kidding right?..." you cursed under your breath immediately replying to her back.

You | 8:06 AM

Why did you even think that was going to be okay? They know about it, I agreed to do this.

Your phone then started to loudly ring in the empty classroom, with your sister's name flashing on the screen.

"I am not going to stand by and let you stay with him!" Himiko expressed, "This isn't the life you should be living."

"And I told you HImiko to stop questioning everything I do." You continued without even taking a moment to breathe, you were livid. "Why do you insist on resolving an issue when there isn't one?!"

"Because there is! Do you know how fucked up it is for you to have been part of the bargain in order for dad to get financial help?!"

You tried your very hardest to calm down the pulsing feeling in your head by breathing in and out deeply. "Look, Himiko this marriage isn't yours to butt into."

"What happened to my sister who wanted to pick out her special partner?" She questioned, "The one who couldn't wait to find the one and be happy with someone who actually cares about you? Are you seriously telling me that you do not care about that stuff anymore?"

"I have always dreamed of having someone special in my life but things sometimes don't go the way you want them to okay-"

"I know right now you're too new at your marriage and you do not fully understand what it means t be tied down to one person."

"Yes I do!" You retorted but of course it wasn't enough for your sister.

"No you do not, (name). The further you stay in this arranged marriage the more miserable you'll be." She ran her fingers through her hair, sighing deeply. "I've seen it first hand myself... people change and not for the better. Being in secret and locked up in a foreign place does things to you. I don't want my sister to go through that not if I can help it."

"I'm sorry you think that way... but my situation isn't the same. Keigo is the sweetest person I have met, he's attentive and caring." You said trying to open her eyes to how your marriage really was. "He always makes sure that I am okay and looks out for me. We wait up for each other when the other gets home late a-and we stay up talking about our day." A smile formed on your lips as you recalled each moment with him. "I may still not know what marriage is... but this is the best relationship I ever been in Himiko. And I am not going to let your insinuations and judgement ruin something that might evolve."

Himiko's voice faltered, "You're going to regret it, (name). And I won't hesitate to tell you I told you so."

"Maybe I will... or maybe I won't. That doesn't mean I'm going to sit back and listen to you. So you can try all you want... but I'm not going to give up on Keigo."

You ended the call before you let her get in another word. It pained you to fight with the only sibling you had in your life, but you were going to stand your ground no matter what.

Blinking away the loose tears you grabbed your full cart and made your way to where your students were waiting for you. This day was about them and you weren't about to ruin it with your problems or negative emotions.

"Miss, (last name)!" Sato exclaimed running over to you. Her little arms wrapping around your waist as he bend down to hug her with one arm as well. "It's about to start!"

"I know," you smiled. "Are you excited to have some fun?"

She confidently smiled looking up at you. "I'm ready to win."

"I can tell you won't be one to give up without a fight."

Sato nodded, "Do you need help Miss?"

"It's actually not a lot but thank you for offering to help out." You said, "You should get warmed up in the meanwhile."

"I'm waiting for Sayo and Tadashi too!" She mentioned, "Suzuki is with his parents."

"I see, did yours arrive yet?"

"Yup! They promised to cheer me on and watch me from the stands!"

"I'm glad to hear that-"

"Hana! Let's go take a picture before the events starts sweetie." Her mom yelled.

Sato nodded at her direction and turned back to look at you. "I promise I'll make you proud!" She waved at you as she ran back to her parents.

You smiled back waving at her as well.

Sometimes it was crazy to see that one day your students will end up graduating soon. All hope you is that they end up continuing with their lives, happy without any worry or caring about anyone else's opinion about themselves. You wish you could shield them from harmful things, but you knew those lessons are some they need to learn as well.

A little over an hour later and the event was finally beginning. All the classes from different grades were already sorted into different groups for the events. The teachers stood on the sidelines waiting for it to start.

"Miss (Last Name) would you do us the honors and start the event?" The principle asked as she handed you the microphone.

"Of course." Taking the microphone you walked over to the small podium where one of the students stood on. Turning on the mic you then spoke, "Hello, everyone! I'm very happy to see so many parents joining us for this special fun event. I know all of our kiddos have practiced non stop to make this a memorable day. We hope you enjoy yourselves and cheer them on as loudly as you can. Now we will be listening to one of our top students, Haru Shiota."

You gave the student and encouraging smile as you handed him the microphone. "You've got this."

They nodded and took it with shaky hands. His eyes roamed the huge crowd of unknown adults and students.

"T―thank you... f―for joining us today!" Shiota stuttered, "We hope to make you p―proud!"

Everyone clapped, you ruffled his hair a bit trying to comfort him. Luckily he was able to breathe again, with a bounce in his step he got off the podium and made his way back to his group.

"The first event will be an obstacle course!" You announced, "Ready?" There was a pause, everyone eagerly waiting for you to say the final word. "Go!"

As soon as the students began to run, the parents started to scream loudly to make sure they heard them. Some of them even ran along with them to get pictures of their child running. It was honestly such a heart warming event to see.

"They're getting close aren't they?" Mio spoke as she walked over to stand by your side.

"Yeah, it's going to be such a close call." You said watching intently as one of your kids was getting closer to third place.

"Do you think your husband would like these type of events?"

"Hm... most likely yeah." A smile lifted on the corner of your lips. "His childhood was very different I'm sure he would have loved to even be part of it."

Mio smiled, "I'm glad to see he's making you happy."

You cheered on your students on as they got closer to the end of the obstacle course.

"Go, Sato!" You yelled, clapping. "You're so close!"

In a moments notice, she was able to take over second and first place in the end. The first win officially went over to your class.

"Yeah!" Mio yelled cheering her own students for winning second place.

Grabbing the mic you spoke into it again, "Congrats to Sato for grabbing first place along with the other two students, Tanaka and Yoshida for winning second and third! Everyone did such an amazing job. Please make sure to get ready for the second event."

"Ooh did you make the rice balls?!" Mio exclaimed as she saw some of the students and staff walking over to the tables filled with food.

"Actually my husband did..." You shyly spoke trying to get used to referring him as your husband.

"I need to try them then! Do you want me to bring you one?"

You shook your head, "I had one earlier, go and enjoy them!"

Mio did not waste another second and quickly headed over to the food section.

A sigh escaped your lips as you closed your eyes then opened them again. Your body started to feel tired, it was mostly mental exhaustion from earlier. Still, it sucked that the people you thought would support you the most were the ones hurting you.

"Miss (Last Name)!" The principal exclaimed, "I forgot to tell you that we have a few guests today!"

You looked at her with a puzzled look, "Guests?..."

She nodded eagerly, smiling from ear to ear. "I was able to talk to some of the heroes and they accepted our invitation―"

A sudden force of wind then grabbed everyone's attention. Hizashi tried to hold onto the tables steady in case they fell over. Mio did her best to hold on to the shade covers as well.

You lifted your arms up to cover yourself form the dust that was picked up because of the wind.

"I apologize for arriving late, I hope the fun hasn't ended yet."

Immediately you recognized that voice, your eyes widened in shock not believing who was standing a few feet away from you.

Keigo smiled at everyone, the kids were shocked seeing he was there in person. But it warmed his heart knowing that he was able to brighten up their day. His eyes scanned the crowd searching for you. A frown started to form on his face until he finally found you.

His eyes glowing brighter than before, he waved at everyone but his eyes pointed at your direction. You couldn't help but smile seeing him, a slight blush covering your cheeks.

It wasn't only him who had arrived, there was also Endeavor and Best Jeanist along with other future heroes who had accompanied them.

The principal quickly grabbed the mic, "Everyone, we have some special guests! Let me introduce you to some of the top heroes of Japan, Endeavor, Hawks, and Best Jeanist! Along with some of Japan's future heroes from U.A High!"

It was unbelievable.

Your students ran eagerly over to them, Endeavor was smiling at them while Best Jeanist crouched down to ruffle their hair.

"Wow, I did not think you'd be able to convince them to come (name)!" Mio said, watching in the same shocked smiled expression as you.

"I―I didn't..." You explained, "The principle was actually the one who made it possible."

"Well it was your suggestion," Hizashi said standing beside you, "I'm glad it worked out in the end."

Keigo smiled, waving at everyone.

"I can't believe you didn't come through the main door." Best Jeanist said.

"Well I do have wings you know, why not make an epic entrance?" He smirked.

"Because we came together? It would have been best for all of us to show up." Endeavor added.

Best Jeanist shook his head and walked over to the students that were waiting to talk to him.

The students from U.A also interacted with them, some of the teachers even asked them questions.

But the certain golden brown eyes couldn't keep himself from looking at your direction. You had to tell him with your eyes to stop looking over at you and to focus on them.

"Is Hawks, checking you out?" Mio said.

"W―what no!" You retorted quickly looking away.

"He's curious about you, damn even though you're married you are still getting hit on." She whined, "No fair!"

"Don't be jealous there's guys who check you out too Mio." Hizashi said.

"Yeah but what good does it do if none of them ask me out?!"

Unbeknownst to you, Keigo started to walk over to you three with such confidence in hopes of getting a reaction out of you. There was immediate silence as he looked at you guys. His eyes going from Hizashi to Mio and finally landing on you.

He stretched out his hand, "You must be the teacher the kids keep talking about am I right? Miss (Last Name)?"

You wanted to physically fan yourself to calm down but you knew it would be too obvious. With a calm smile, you shook his hand not being able to ignore how perfectly it molded together with his own.

"I―It is very nice to meet you, Hawks."

[chairteeth]

So I did a lil bit of intro writing

For my upcoming contribution to the @magireco-minibang, I've decided to write a couple of introductions so to speak, in each main character's pov. I've been partnered with @karinmisono for this project and I for one am excessively excited about it aaaaa-

Anyway, the girls have grown different from their canon selves to some extent, given the changes in their formative years, but don't worry, being thrown into an eldritch horror gallery will bond anyone most people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eighteen. The very day Nemu Hiiragi had turned eighteen, she’d stopped going to therapy. Her parents didn’t stop her—didn’t care enough to even find out. What had therapy ever done for her, besides bring to light how miserable her home life truly was?

Her father didn’t give her a break. She was barely listening to him when she walked into the kitchen. Something about a competition. Another competition. What was it going to be this time? Kendo? Karate? Taekwondo would at least be enjoyable.

“Oh, Nemu, there are leftovers in the fridge,” her mother called.

“Thank you, Mom, but I ate lunch before I left Yukuni.”

“I see…”

Before either of her parents could continue talking to her, Nemu left her bag on the counter and headed to her room, registering one last shout from her father to get ready for training. This was why she preferred to be anywhere but the house. She caught sight of her brother glaring at her from the door to his room and politely ignored it.

Once she’d finished counting the books in her room, as she did every time she entered it in hopes that her father wouldn’t have thrown away any of them, she eyed her laptop on her desk. Weekend mornings were the only time her father had been convinced to grant her for classes, prioritizing training his begrudging champion above her studies. She’d used up that day’s morning free time on returning to Kamihama all the way from Yukuni City.

“I suppose my assignments will be feasible to do tonight after dinner… which leaves me stranded here to sleep for the night. Not the worst fate, although unpleasant.”

She left her glasses on her dresser to put in her contacts, seeing as it was preferable to do it at home rather than the dojo. After a few blinks, a glance at her buzzing phone showed her a rare text from the only person she would hesitantly call a friend: Alina Gray. That could not possibly be good news.

“Cherry blossom viewing…? Alina would never suggest this. It must have been her girlfriend who proposed this. In Sankyo Ward as well… I do recall Akira mentioning that there’s a park with beautiful cherry blossoms nearby. While the prospect holds a certain appeal, I cannot extend my acceptance until I’ve formulated a suitable strategy to circumvent Dad’s potential objections.”

Strategizing would not be difficult… so long as she didn’t delude herself with any ideas of her unflinchingly strict father allowing her to skip even a single training session. Her instructors promoted discipline, however they had been willing to cover for her in the past. Once or twice. She hated having to request anything out of anyone.

“But… I would benefit from a small break. A break that does not involve depersonalization of the highest caliber.”

If her therapist had left her with anything, it would be the curse of self-awareness. All she’d wanted to do after leaving the hospital had been to bond with her family and indulge in her passions somewhere that wasn’t a sterile white environment reeking of medication.

Over her summer shirt, Nemu felt her fingertips glide around the contour of the scar beneath her breasts, and she hated the way it made her breath hitch. Breathing, breathing, breathing. Her enemy, it felt like. Or at least, for the longest time, it had been. She had not yet been able to go more than a few days without thinking back to the hospital. To the days of choking on her own mucus, when her limbs felt like lead and her useless, weak, defective lungs were filled with sandpaper, each cough rasping and tearing at her throat. The days of gasping for oxygen in a lonely room as if trying to suck air through a straw, tears streaming down her cheeks and her vision swimming. Those days when she’d both plead for and curse her parents, unable to hear herself above the high-pitched whistle that filled her ears, the constant reminder of the narrowed airways that choked her every breath. The red of her blood had looked beautiful when it stained her sheets—unproductive, the nurses had called it.

A bang on her door snapped her out of her thoughts.

“You’re gonna be late, grab your uniform and get your ass out the door!” her father yelled.

With a sigh, Nemu retrieved her folded up uniform and took her immunosuppressant pills dry. She’d heed her father’s command this once.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Touka never thought she could hate the stars. It wasn’t that she hated them, exactly. Recent events had simply granted her a new perspective.

“Fire requires oxygen and fuel. Fire produces heat and light through a chemical reaction called combustion. Fire releases ash and other byproducts. Stars don’t need oxygen or fuel in the traditional sense. Stars generate light and heat through nuclear fusion, where atoms combine to release enormous amounts of energy. Stars don’t produce ash, but heavier elements.”

She’d been repeating that to herself for months. The incident had left parts of her home in shambles, charred beyond recognition. Other parts had only seen minor damage. Including the particular canvas she’d been staring at. A perfect replica of herself, wearing a different dress and yet the same cursed bright smile she’d been made to sport since her inception. It made her frown to see the scorch marks—they left her figure untouched, consuming everything around her instead.

Touka took a deep breath. She couldn’t spend her day idling and moping. Her siblings were counting on her. They may have been older, but they’d been far more terrified than her when their guests had turned on them and set their home ablaze. It was her job to lead.

She stopped at the top of the stairs. The likelihood of falling was rather high, if her terrible balance since the incident was anything to go by. As if to taunt her, the sensation of burning embers radiated into her back and shoulders, numb yet tingling, icy cold yet searing hot. An ache, a throb she couldn’t escape. The smell of smoke and ash lingered in her nose.

“Like a ship missing its sails…”

With a scowl, she tried to take it one step at a time. And every step felt like descending into Hell itself. The ache radiated from her shoulder blades, down her spine, and into her fingers. Touka kept her eyes glued to the stairs below. Thankfully, there was a railing to hold onto. Unfortunately for her, as soon as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she felt an itch urging her to scratch at it. She would not be scratching at empty air. For her dignity. She’d grit her teeth, squeeze her eyes shut, and hope it would pass soon. Her hand went to the black rose she wore in her hair.

“I need… to make better defenses. Every visitor that has come to our home has hurt us, only to flee before we can retaliate. I don’t know why I thought it would be different this time. Well, I was right, it was different, just… not in a good way. Of course not.”

Her older sisters had told her once, over tea, that she had no thorns. No matter how hard she tried to keep people away, she’d always end up trusting at the first sign of kindness. They’d tried not to blame her, but she could tell what they were thinking. Why would she want to be close to others when she already had such a large family that adored her?

“They don’t feel trapped here like I do… It hasn’t been the same since Father left. I wish I knew why he abandoned us. It was… little after I was born… Was it something to do with me? Did he not want to look at me?” She lifted up her forearm and stared at the burn scar forever etched into her skin. “Was I… defective?”

Touka slammed her fist into the concrete wall, sending cracks out from the point of impact. She could not afford distractions. She could not afford mourning. She could not afford-

But it ached. It ached and she fell to her knees beside the wall.

No sound. No sun. No wind.

She’d waited so long. First, in silence. Then, making the most noise she could. Trying everything, anything to make him proud. Why had he been so cruel as to abandon all of his children without a word? Her siblings had raised her with stories of their father’s loving soul and his kind hand. She’d never known them herself. What had she done to deserve his scorn? Why was she not worthy of his love as her siblings had been? Why did everyone who met her hate her? Why could she not let go of her sorrows and live happily like the rest of her siblings?

“They call me a genius… Is that why? It hurts… It hurts so much…”

The first sob came without tears.

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Meeting the Scarlet Witch

Summary: Seeing a portal appear in your apartment would've been a lot worse if you were a normal person but being a widow and part super solider you couldn't sweat the small stuff anymore, turns out this "Scarlet Witch" as you come to know her is about to make your life a bit more interesting

Words: 1,529

Warnings: swearing, and bad jokes (This AU is an 18+ story so minors will be blocked if they interact. Thanks!

This portal appearing in the middle of your apartment would be very stressful if you were a normal person but being a widow and part super solider you decided not to sweat the small things anymore. 

The portal closed and a woman stepped out of it throwing back a young girl as the portal closed "Y/N?" You lifted your head up from the book you were reading and towards the woman in red "you look like Wanda Maximoff but the evil ora around you says otherwise" you questioned and the woman was stunned by your nonchalant reaction, her Y/n would've been terrified. 

"I'm The Scarlet Witch from another universe, my version of you died protecting me" she replied flatly and you just nodded "wow forward aren't you? So let me guess, we were dating? By the looks of you, I did pretty well"

"We were "friends" technically until one of us needed...something..." the witch blushed under your gaze as she explained but you understood perfectly "Ah so we were fuck buddies I get it well, if you're done explaining and then disturbing my evening I've got things to be doing, don't make a mess when you leave through the portal looking thingy" you moved back through the kitchen putting your book away and getting a bottle of water from the fridge 

"Wait!" the witch shouted and swallowed the lump in her throat as you turned around glaring at her "what?"

"You can't just leave me here" 

You walked back to the front room where the witch stood "why not? I don't recall actually knowing you and since you stumbled into this universe I assume you can stumble back out” 

“I guess but, but my life in that universe sucks, I’ve got no family, my “friends” haven’t checked up on me since the battle with Thanos and I've been alone searching for something, anything! To keep me going” she held back some tears and you actually felt bad, maybe the super solider serum was wearing off and you were developing feelings, might have to get that checked.

“Fine I’ll entertain you, when did we become fuck friends?” You fell onto the couch throwing a glance to the chair next to you for the woman to sit down on “sit”

Scarlet winced at the term of endearment you used “can’t we just call it friends with benefits?” You just chuckled “I could but I’m having too much fun, so come on, tell me everything”

The Witch fell into easy conversation with you telling her about all the terrible life she’d lived. When she finished, she was a mess of tears and had moved to your lap, you didn’t know how that’d happened but you weren’t mad about it, she was quite attractive, even through the tears streaming down her face and the ruined makeup “sorry for the tears its just been a fucking horrible life” Scarlet wiped her tears away and went to move off of your lap but your hands on her waist kept her in place “it’s okay Scar, by the sounds of it you need the affection”

She nodded and buried her face into your neck, a move you weren’t too certain on but allowed for the time being “tell me about you” she mumbled above a whisper but you heard her and the grip on her tightened “I think that’s a story for another day, it’s late come on, you can stay in my bed”

“Wow forward much?” She said with a laugh but you just shrugged “well I’m not staying on the couch so I guess we’ll become cuddle buddies” Scarlet yelped when you used your strength to lift you both from the chair “I think we’re moving too fast” she stated but you just rolled your eyes “didn’t you say we slept together almost everyday? Might be a different universe but technically it’s the same me”

You reached your room and let her down gently going to your drawer and pulling out some PJs turning back to the witch “I doubt you want to stay in your tight looking outfit and cape thing so here” she accepted the clothing with a smile “thanks, I’ll just go and get changed then” she looked around the room clearly looking for a bathroom to change into 

“The bathrooms over there” you pointed with a smile and gave a short laugh when she squeaked out a 'thank you' to you and scurried into the bathroom

When she emerged you whistled at the cute PJs she was wearing “hey cutie” throwing her a wink she blushed and sat down on the bed messing with her fingers nervously “so, what do we do now?”

“Go to bed” you fell onto the bed and crawled under covers pulling them back for the redhead “okay” getting in bed she moaned at the softness of mattress and coziness of the blanket, she hadn’t realised how long she’d been travelling through universes and her body was finally relieved to be resting “do you normally moan getting into bed?” smiling at her blushed face “don’t be embarrassed witchy”

“Can I ask you something?” She was suddenly stern which took you aback slightly “oh, yea sure?” You sat up looking at the witch “What’s Wanda like here in this universe?”

You gave a relieved sigh, an easy question "I've only seen her when I've been stalking Nat, she seems fine but I haven't gotten a good look at her, although if she's as hot as you I'd like to get closer look" winking at the redhead you saw that infamous blush you'd grown to love in the last few hours "I would think she does look like me, maybe a little less haggard"

"Like hell! I may have been locked up when I was younger but I can honestly say you're a gorgeous woman, not haggard" your eyes wondered over her frame "to be honest I haven't seen anyone so beautiful in a while"

The witch eyed you "are you flirting with me?" she said smirking and you scoffed "wow nothing gets past you does it Scar? We might as well do something fun" pressing a kiss to the surprised woman you questioned whether this was a good idea but when she parted her lips to let your tongue in all your doubt went out of the window and you let yourself enjoy the kiss. When air became a problem you pulled away but went down to her neck to continue "hold on..." the words you didn't want to hear when your thoughts were so loud about taking her right now 

"You okay?" you whispered against her smooth skin trying to understand "we don't know each other" you wanted to laugh but guessed that wouldn't help and you really want to get laid tonight, instead you pulled away looking at her beautiful green eyes "okay but don't you technically already know me from your universe? Also didn't we already have this conversation earlier?"

Wanda laughed "my version of you worked at a bakery and rescued puppies and yeah we did but I didn't think I'd have to repeat myself"

"And you liked that? Sounds boring" you scoffed pulling Wanda into your lap making her squeal "didn't you say she protected you before she kicked the bucket? Did she do it in the bakery?" you laughed but stopped when you were given a stern look by the witch on your lap "okay okay sorry, I know I'm not the cutie, perfect version of me that you liked in your universe but I'm still pretty hot if you ask me and if I may also say, I can bake...okay I can make brownies but it counts!"

The witch shook her head "can't you be serious for 5 minutes?" you shrugged "maybe but not today, I think we know enough about each other for me to fuck you"

"You're so brash, I'm on top" she replied leaning down to kiss you, you spun her around so now she was on the bed looking up at you "I don't think so sweetheart, it's been months since I've had any action, I need to release some energy" you chuckled to yourself and she burst out laughing and you joined in "what the hell was that? That was so cringe"

"Says the woman who just said 'that was so cringe', it's a good thing you're hot" kissing her before she could speak again your hands traveled her body landing at the waistline of her pyjama pants "wait wait" Scarlet pulled away breathlessly and you groaned "Scar please I'm a patient woman bu-"

Wanda shushed you "give me a few days to settle, and I'll be all yours"

You gave a dramatic groan making the witch laugh "my universe's you rushed into things too

You widened your eyes "oh okay I see how it is, we'll see about that" giving her one last kiss you reluctantly let her off of your lap and you both cuddled under the covers "I guess cuddling is fun too" you remarked nuzzling into her neck kissing it.

"goodnight Y/n" she whispered 

"Goodnight witchy"

[eruden-writes]

Room & Board - Part 5 (Tabaeus x Reader)

Anon submitted this prompt:

For the prompt submissions a vampire that feels guilty after feeding/attacking someone so they leave obscenely valuable ancient artifacts as payment/an apology?

Part 1 | Previous | Masterlist | Next

x x x x x

Hours pass and Tabaeus is enthralled with the computer and the Internet. After you provided some supplemental lessons - such as some key sites they may find interesting, how to open documents and save files, and helping them set up a free e-mail account - you left Tabaeus to their own devices. On the promise the vampire would ask you if they had questions or if something - ahem - unseemly popped up.

You’ve managed to reply to your manager and even taken a nap in your room, before deciding to rouse Tabaeus from their Internet fugue. 

As you wander into the kitchen, retrieving a soda from the fridge, you call over to Tabaeus over the short distance, “How’s it going?”

“Fine,” they mumble, their shoulders hunched as they lean over the desk, staring a bit too intensely at the screen.

You make a curious sound as you, with your soda in hand, peer over Tabaeus’s shoulder. On the screen, an article about vampires is displayed. It’s from an old site, with a pure black background and obnoxiously ornate font. 

“Ah, researching your roots,” you comment with soft amusement as you pop the soda tab open and take a sip. You lay your hand on the back of the chair, fingers just grazing Tabaeus’s shoulder. 

Your small touch seems to break through the digital daze. Tabaeus blinks, their eyes shifting from the screen to your hand. You can see reality resetting itself in their brain as they offer you an awkward smile. But the attention is short, as they’re soon turning quickly back to the screen.

“Yes, but seeing these images is making me hungry,” Tabaeus uses the mouse to wave the pointer over the accumulated gallery. You can’t help but notice that much of the depictions involve people clad in nearly translucent gowns, feasting or being feasted upon, in quasi-erotic poses. The bite marks on your throat throb and you recall a hazy memory of how the blood tickled as it dribbled down your skin. You shove the thought away before it can settle and warm your cheeks.

From the way Tabaeus is avoiding your eye, you’re fairly certain their hunger is two-fold. Blood and lust. You try to ignore that realization by grinning at Tabaeus and snarkily asking, “Want a bowl of cereal?”

Their lips press into an unamused line as their red gaze tilts up at you. You merely grin back, delighting in the mild annoyance emanating from them. It’s only when they move to slowly stand that you begin to worry you overstepped some line between you two. Or maybe that’s what you wanted, you realize, as you fumble backward. Even though your heart is thrumming, you can’t seem to find an iota of fear as Tabaeus closes the distance. 

Something solid bumps into your back. With a start, you realize Tabaeus has backed you across the small living room, against the far wall. A quick calculation tells you that the vampire is too close for you to slink away and, within a breath of being cornered, Tabaeus is stooped over you. 

One of their long-fingered hands plants against the wall, right beside your head. The light scrape of their nails, now longer and darker and curved, hisses against the wall and right into your year. They bring their free hand to your chin, barely touching you. But you still tip your head back, tilting your gaze toward their face.  

“You know what I want, little sango sako,” Tabaeus purrs, their clawed fingers delicately trailing along your jaw before coasting down your throat. Somewhere, in a totally separate pocket of your brain, you wonder where their timidness has gone. 

“Wh-what does that mean?” Tabaeus’s eyes lazily flick from your neck, back to your face as you speak. You try to clear the stutter from your throat before clarifying, “Sango sako?”

“You do not know esperanto?” A slow smile spreads over Tabaeus’s lips, showing off those fearsome rows of sharp points, as you shake your head.

The smug grin crossing the vampire’s lips makes you balk a little. “Should I?” 

“It was supposed to become an international language, so all could communicate.” Tabaeus gives an amused hum. Their gaze travels down your throat and the air in your lungs seize, memories of the last feeding razing over your nerves. Realizing themself, Tabaeus’s attention flicks back to your face and their smile takes on an impish angle, “I called you a little blood bag.” 

Your eyes widen as heat bleeds hotter in your cheeks, embarrassment twining with the anticipation of the moment. Before you can even think it, your hands have planted against Tabaeus’s chest and pushed against them. “Oh! You are awful!” 

Infuriatingly, the vampire doesn’t even budge. Instead, Tabaeus looks at your arms, head tilted to the side like a cat surveying a bug with interest. “Yes, well you knew what I meant when I said I was hungry.” 

You clap your hands around your neck, ignoring the slight ache from where Tabaeus had previously fed. “Well good fucking luck getting a snack off me now! Calling me a bloodbag… geez.” 

That curious look returns to your face. A smile tilts at their lips, an easy delight dancing in their eyes. “I am good at waiting.”

“Tabaeus.” Your eyebrows dip as the stern word manages to break free from your tightly pressed lips. As easy-going as Tabaeus is taking the moment, you cannot do the same. Such a casual reminder of how you were a food source reignited some lingering fear from that first night. It’s joined with the apprehension from being enthralled and the uncertainty of trusting a vampire who, allegedly, has lost their memories.

Reading your body language, Tabaeus’s eyes widen and their pointed ears droop. They push themself away from the wall and take a couple steps back, giving you a wide berth of space. Their hands remain at their shoulder height, lightly curled into fists in an attempt to hide their claws. “My apologies, I was only teasing.” 

“Yeah, well,” you mumble, still feeling the burn of mortification on your cheeks and still keeping your hands tightly locked around your throat. “Try not to be so convincing next time.”

“Duly noted.” Tabaeus’s fingers start to shift against their palm. One arm lowers as the other reaches toward you, slowly and carefully. You stare as Tabaeus holds out their hand to you. Despite yourself, the earnest look in their eye has you reaching for their hand. 

Once your palm grazes theirs, their fingers curl under yours and they lift your hand. They press your bent knuckles to their cheek, leaning their face against your fingers. Tabaeus closes their eyes, a sad crease between their brows as their voice dips softly, “It was not my intention to frighten you. I am so sorry.”

A blush crawls over your cheeks at the touch of Tabaeus’s cheek against your hand. You frown, agitated with yourself as you gently pull your hand from the vampire’s grasp. Their eyes crack open, a pouty frown forming on their lips, but they release you. 

“Other than making yourself hungry, have you learned anything new?” The question comes with an edge, reminding Tabaeus of the line they overstepped while trying to maintain a measure of politeness.

“Quite a lot, actually.” Tabaeus straightens, their eyes warming with jubilation. Their guilt over their mistake completely forgotten. If you had known, you would have braced yourself for an array of information that would have satisfied a five-year-old’s curiosity. Soon, you forget how Tabaeus had reignited your concerns and fear, under their onslaught of knowledge.

Did you know that the Japanese have made square watermelons? Or that there are spiders that keep tiny frogs as pets, to keep pests from eating the spider’s eggs? Oh, or that Earth used to be purple and, speaking of the color, there’s only two countries that have it in their flag? And on the historical note, did you know more photos were taken in the past seven years than in all of previous history? 

You can’t help but smile and simply nod, occasionally offering a comment, as Tabaeus continues to rattle off fact after fact, often segueing themselves into a completely separate topic. They remind you a little of how you were as a kid, when the Internet opened up so many worlds to you. Cute and charming, in its own way. 

When Tabaeus finally seems to be running out of steam, you decide to steer them back towards more pressing topics. “Have you learned anything that explains your memories a bit better?” 

“Ah, not quite.” They deflate a little under that question, even though you can’t blame them. The amount of information that has been opened up to them is overwhelming and easy to get distracted by. Though you had been hoping something would spark their own knowledge of the memories. Likely, they need more structured research, but you figure giving them free reign for their first ‘lesson’ will make narrowing down topics easier.

“That’s alright,” you reassure Tabaeus, with a pat on their arm. “I’m going to use the computer now, though.” 

“What do you need to research?” The vampire cocks their head to the side and their eyes follow you as you make your way to the computer desk.

“The Internet is for more than just research,” you say as you sit yourself in front of the monitor. You partially thankful Tabaeus hadn’t stumbled onto some more illicit sites. If the barely scandalous gallery on the vampire site got them hungry, you worry what out-and-out porn would do to them. Of course, they never clarified what sort of hunger, so maybe you were just misinterpreting their own body language. 

Shaking the line of thought from your head, you enter a URL to a popular home searching site into the bar. “I’d like to find a better place to live.”

Tabaeus’s eyebrows furrow and you can hear them look around your apartment, now with a discerning eye. “Is your current residence not appropriate?” 

“Not for the two of us.” You are clicking on various options as you reply. A basement and an attic would be nice, giving options to Tabaeus for a room. You faintly wonder how many rooms you’ll want. Should you plan for others to be involved in this arrangement? What if you found someone to date? Or what if Tabaeus needed another source of blood at some point? What if they aren’t as sincere and naive as they’ve acted?

Your brain spins with possibilities and potentialities. Various could-be futures fracture and spread out in your mind’s eye. 

“Oh, I thought it was cozy here.” Tabaeus’s words bring you back to actuality. Turning away from the array of home options, you catch their eye and offer them a slight grin.

“The universe plopped a wealthy vampire into my lap.” Tabaeus opens their mouth and you know they’re going to say that no, they’ve never been in your lap. You cut them off, continuing to speak, “So I might as well try my luck further and buy a house, yeah?”

“You do not own this place?” Realization begins to dawn in Tabaeus’s eyes, their eyebrows ticking upward. The second you shake your head, they scuttle up beside your seated self and crouch down, so they can peer comfortably up at the computer screen. “Well, in that case, let us see what abodes are available, yes?”

“Hah, I knew you’d be up for it,” you lightly laugh and roll your eyes as you turn back to the screen yourself. “You shopaholic, you.” 

Though Tabaeus’s eyes don’t turn from the computer, watching as you click on particular features and seeing as the options change, they still have the presence of mind to ask, “Shopaholic?” 

“It means you like buying things. A lot.” You glance down at Tabaeus, slightly amused with this absurdly tall vampire sitting at your elbow. Their red eyes catch the glint of the computer screen, making the hue all the more prominent.

Their gaze breaks from the monitor to your face. Hesitantly, as their eyebrows furrow once more, Tabaeus mumbles, “Does not everyone enjoy buying things for themselves?”

At that, you chuckle and your voice takes on a teasing tone, “Technically, you’ll be buying this house for me.”

It doesn’t even take Tabaeus a moment to respond, “Does not everyone enjoy buying things for those they care about, then?” 

You’re not sure which has you blushing hotter. The fact they barely even had to think about their retort or the fact Tabaeus - in such a short amount of time - has deemed you ‘someone they care about.’ 

Trying to hide the fact you’re internally squirming, you try to laugh off their comment. “A house is a little much. Especially since we’ve barely known each other.” 

“There is a way to… ah, what was that term?” Tabaeus presses their cheek to the back of your free hand, turning their red gaze up at you from their tilted face. You try to ignore them, keeping your eyes on the house listings, but your heart is thumping loud enough they likely hear it. A toothy smile spreads across their lips as the term finally comes to mind, “Oh, yes! We could speedrun getting to know one another fully, yes?” 

That breaks your diligent attempt to ignore them. A laugh bubbles up from your lips and you turn a disbelieving look down at the vampire kneeling beside you. From the way Tabaeus’s smile tilts, they’re enjoying your amusement. 

You’re not entirely sure the vampire understands the innuendo in their words. With your eyes narrowing, you try to purse your lips but only manage a puckered smile. “You’re talking about drinking my blood again, aren’t you?” 

“Am I that transparent?” A theatrical sigh escapes from Tabaeus, making you roll your eyes. Though your smile doesn’t falter. 

You snort, “Afraid so.” 

“In that case, I will work on being more artful.” They sit up, finally removing their cheek from your hand, and clap their hands together once. The move reminds you of an out-of-touch teacher, excitedly trying to pump up students. Faintly, you wonder if Tabaeus was in the learning profession at some point, but shake the thought away. 

“Alright, let’s focus on this,” you say as you point to the computer screen, where listings of houses are still waiting to be dissected. “Instead of perfecting your seduction of a blood bag.”

At once, Tabaeus’s eyes widen, the determined set of their lips curling into a pout. “I apologized for that!” 

A doubtful hum escapes you, which only intensifies Tabaeus’s pout. Without thinking, you lay your hand on their head, gently stroking along their hair. The action startles Tabaeus at first, but they soon relax into it. Their eyes flutter shut and, subtly, you feel them nuzzle their head against your palm. 

“Yes, you apologized, but you’re also a super powerful, preternatural creature of the night that should know better.” Your fingers flex in Tabaeus’s hair, tightening in a gentle way. As you experimentally tug, a pitiful sound escapes Tabaeus. The chair creaks as you shift to lean over them. You’re not sure if it’s the sound or if it’s Tabaeus’s own senses that prompt the vampire to open their eyes. 

Their eyes widen, seeing your face so close to theirs. If they were capable of blushing, you’re certain redness would flood their cheeks. Your voice dips low and soft, and you whisper, “Forgive me if I hold it over your head forever.” 

A whine escapes Tabaeus, their attention completely on you as they weakly nod in understanding. In return, you grin and tug on their hair a little harder than before. Another, almost imperceptible, sound leaves their throat. You notice their chest is rising and falling a little heavier than before and their hands are curled into the fabric of their sweats. 

Tabaeus is a temptation, you finally decide. And you’re fairly certain there’s no enthralling happening on the vampire’s part. Well, unless they got much better at controlling the power in the last twenty-four hours, which you decide you shouldn’t entirely discount.

With a final tug of their hair and a boop of your fingertip on their nose, you abruptly turn back to what you were doing. You can feel Tabaeus’s dazed look on you. It takes a few blinks until the vampire realizes nothing more is going to happen.

You say no more about it as you guide the conversation into needs and wants for a new home.

To Tabaeus’s credit, they manage to give input with minimal pouting. 

[camusscigarette]

Violets for Roses:

Chapter II: A Swan's Song drowns it's Victim in Pools of Crimson:

TW: Flashbacks of Rape, torture, blood.

{In bold is meant to be in Russian. 1) I don't speak russian so I can't type it out. 2) Using google translate feels like an insult to the language. Because I believe that I either write the language in correct grammar and it makes perfect sense or I don't. So. Bold is meant to be spoken in Russian!!!!}

❦

When she came back to her Mansion she was surprised to find it empty, only a nice breakfast left for her on the kitchen counter. Syrniki.

Was it his way to tell her he suspects something? Or does he think himself smart enough to figure out the truth? Only time will tell. For now she simply took a seat on her kitchen counter and poured a bit of honey on the syrniki before she took a bite out of it, and a soft moan escaped her lips. She ate two more before putting them back in her fridge and prepared herself a cup of Black coffee to go on with her day. After all, she was a psychiatrist, she never get a break.

Hours went by, and with each hour a patient passed her by, with stories that have no end and she listens and somehow relives the stories of her patients. Sometimes she believes that none of their stories will ever compete with hers, even if this isn't a competition on who's trauma is worse but she was fully convinced that none of her patients stories will make her feel as miserable as her memories in the Red Room ever did. After all..she did spend almost a century there. Almost. If she hadn't escaped in the 90s she doesn't think she would've made it any further. After all she faked so many passports, identities, and diplômes to get where she is. It was more than exhausting to start off from zero. From stealing money ever so effortlessly to rent a small apartment, change her hair and adapt a new identity as well as the work she had to do in order to create a fake identity, fake passport and ID, fake driving license. Fake, fake, fake, fake. She was faker than those women made out of plastics, she was far greater than a Plastic surgeon's creation, yet she was much dirtier. Her ledger was overflowing with red..After all..Almost a century of being one of the most dangerous assassins...The Black Widow. Even if she had convinced herself that she did what she did because she had no choice, because she was a mere puppet in the puppeteer's hands, a poor and destroyed rag doll barely hanging, a mother making sure to obey all commands to insure her daughters live day by day. The Sacrifices she made were all in the name of loyalty. Not to her country. Not that bastard whom called himself her Husband while all he did was fuck her till she eventually learned how to dissociate when it all happens at the ripe age of 16. She was young when she gave birth to Natalya, that she remembers. She remembers how for the first time in her life. she witnessed Madame Boleslava cry. She was much older when she gave birth to Yelena though, because Dreykov was far too obsessed with making her the best out of all 28 girls. The program consisted of 28 girls, only 14 are supposed to survive. Yet barely 5-3 made it out alive. And Dreykov insisted on making her one of them. So long hours of torturous training she would endure secretly with The Winter Soldier. A man whom watched her grow older until he eventually became her lover in the Mid 50s. Years and years later when he recalled zero memories of ever meeting her. Sometimes she finds herself thanking God silently for not enduring the intense brainwashing the Winter Soldier underwent in Hydra. The Red Room sure sucked, but at least her mind was her own most of the times. They programming consisted of torture. It consisted of a game of survival where only those who wish to stay alive succeed. Maybe brainwashing with machines is easier..but at least by your own free will..your thoughts remain somewhat your own. Your thoughts..remain your own until they're no more but the voices of those who pick up your limp bodies like dead weight and lead you out of the torture chamber. Or sometimes Dreykov's room when you are far too violated to walk.

“Come on, Lisichka..Time to get up” Alexei, the right hand of Dreykov who was a much more Caring man than Dreykov will ever be, whispered softly and quietly as she draped a blanket over her bruised body.

She could only groan tiredly, barely capable of opening her eyes. Her body had rope burns all over as well as remains of the burning wax candle still stuck to her skin. Some bite marks here and there and quite the amount of blood staining her inner thighs and the bed sheets.

"Mm'Lexei?" She asked in a groggy whisper. "He—He tied me up too much."

"I know Lisichka. I know.." The man mumbled as he swallowed down his disgust and carefully tried to pick her up in his arms. She was light as a feather and limp as a corpse. Her body still has not recovered it's full blood circulation due to the intense bondage she was forced to submit.

"He said it's time for Natalya to have a sister" She added again, her eyes remaining closed. "Alexei I don't want to get pregnant again" She admitted as her voice trembled.

"Melina and I will try our hardest to ensure you don't fall pregnant" He reassured her, carrying her down the halls.

" He hurts me a lot..I don't think I can bare another child in such a state. I sometimes pray to The Lady Theotokos that she'd make this night my last. Always praying to make it my last..but I always wake up. Why do I always wake up Alexei?"

He had to swallow thickly as he adjusted her position into his arms so that her head lays on his chest. "I don't know, Lisichka. I truly, don't know.."

She snapped back out of the memory and stared at the new patient now seated infront of her in Silence. She was a young woman in her early 20s it seems. Blondie with blue eyes and an ideal body, the perfect american dream. But it wasn't her beauty that captured her attention, rather the ballerina pointe shoes that were tied to the woman's bag that had her slightly dissociative at the moment.

She eventually snapped out of it and stared at her patient with a polite and somewhat comforting smile. "Béatrice" She said ever so softly, her french accent, an accent she has turned into her mother tongue made it's appearance as shee smiled at the blondie. "What brings you here?".She asked her, notebook in hand and a pen in the other while she crossed a leg over the other.

"Well.. I'm here because I've been suffering from nightmares really. But the thing is..those nightmares feel real, almost too real" Béatrice said with a small frown.

"Mhm" She hummed, her eyes narrowing slightly as her mind began to work on it. "Alright. Please do tell me more about those nightmares. If you're comfortable of course, Béatrice" She added again, flashing the woman a reassuring smile.

"Well..I don't know how start. It always begins the same as always" She said carefully, as if her mind was reformulating the dream before her eyes to narrate. "I'm somewhere dark and rather cramped. But there's always this red symbol on the walls and I don't really know what it signifies because it's very blurry, and I can't tell what it is"

That had Bedelia's frown deepen ever so slightly.

"There's this screaming and I see this beautiful woman who's hair is all splayed out onto white sheets, white pillows, creating a contrast against her auburn hair. And she's in so much pain. I try to reach out for her but she always disappears and everything is dark again. But I can hear a fuckin noise. Like a clock. It ticks and ticks and ticks..until it dings. Four times. Always four times. And I see this..tall and rather.. disgusting looking man. A gun in hand, and it's pointed to my head. But when he shoots. And at this point you might think he shot me but he didn't. He didn't and I don't know how because not even for a second do I close my eyes as he holds the gun at my head. But he doesn't shoot me. And somehow the man shifts into that beautiful woman whom was in pain..and I feel..I feel this connection to her so I as try to reach to her the scenario shifts and we're being separated by a group of armed men. And everything goes black"

Bedelia felt an odd sense of dread fill her from head to toe. The hairs on the back of her neck rising almost immediately as Béatrice got to the last part.

"Can you describe that woman to me?" She asked her ever so softly, clearing her throat as she doodled on her notebook.

"I can't see her face. I can only see her red hair and her pale skin" Béatrice replied quietly. "I don't know who she is, or if my mind has created her..but she's so..so familiar to me yet I can not remember where I have seen her before" She explained further as her head tilted to the side with a puzzled look.

"Ah" She said in a rather monotone voice and noted down a few things.

"I like to think sometimes it's because I was separated from my mother when I was young" And that statement ignited more curiosity in her.

"How did you lose your mother, if you don't mind me asking?" She asked her ever so softly, making sure to portray the right emotions.

"My mother was a sex worker. She had to abandon me when I was young, at one of her friends house. I don't know much about her anymore. She..My aunt used to tell me that my mother worked the work she did because she had to make sure I remained alive and well fed. She told me that mother was supposed to come back but it seems like..we lost her in this world." The younger woman explained with a sad smile.

"I'm sorry about your mother, Béatrice" This time her empathy and emotions portrayed were real. Because Bedelia felt a sort of connection to both Béatrice and her mother. She made so many sacrifices for her daughters, only to end up losing them all three. One by death. Two by the system of the Red Room. Bedelia felt the grief Béatrice most likely feels as well, speaking of her mother after all must bring out such sorrowful emotions.

"It's okay. I'm a bit glad she..she left me with someone who took care of me. I mean..my mother knew how terrible it would've been if she had abandoned me in the streets, or put me into foster care. I think..I think it says a lot about her intentions— her good intentions when it came to me" Something about the way this young woman phrased her sentence, her emotions felt off to her.

"You seem very forgiving of your mother" She couldn't not point it out. It fascinated her far too much.

"I am not. I simply.. have convinced myself that I shouldn't be mourning the loss of a mother that never..and will never be" That confused Bedelia more and more as she gave her a raised brow. "I am not so proud of my mother and her sacrifices. But then again..I sort of understand that she did what she had to for the sake of surviving...but in the end it cost her her life" She said with an awkward chuckle as Bedelia had to bite back her tongue before saying anything further.

"Your nightmares could be an underlying guilt for..over judging your mother or..It could be a form of your mother you have buried deeply into you unconscious state of mind. Where..you try to grasp onto an image of her, and stick it to it, but it seems like... little you..has this certain image of your mum that can not be changed so easily" Bedelia explained as she wrote down a few things into her Notebook, but in reality she was drawing a portrait of what she remembers from Little Yelena's chubby baby face.

This session sure seems to be rather.. interesting...

୨°•☽♡☾•°୧

As she was seated by her fireplace, a half empty bottle of Sauvignon on her coffee table, a full glass of wine in hand and French oldies playing in the background. It was a rather relaxing and soothing atmosphere where she could easily let go of her worries for the day.

Béatrice was a rather interesting patient..she had..unlocked some memories of hers she'd rather keep buried but nothing a good glass of wine can not fix.

As she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, humming along the soft melody of Joe Dassin , the annoying sound of the doorbell rang and she had to force herself to answer.

And to her surprise (not so surprised) it was Hannibal.

"Hannibal" She said in her usual composed and detached voice, eyeing him carefully as she didn't open the door fully. "To what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked again with a raised brow.

"I have a few questions, I'd like honest answers to" He said simply. "May I come in?" He asked again with his usual Charming smile she somewhat liked. He was a charmed after all..an Ideal Lover. The most dangerous of seducers, but two can play this game after all..A Black Widow is known to feast upon her mate after intercourse. We'll see who devours the other first. Will it be the Cannibal himself? Or the Black Widow whom has killed far too many to possibly have a record of them all?

Only time will tell.

And so she stepped aside and allowed him in, closing the door behind him before she walked him to the living room, the atmosphere somehow turning slightly tense.

"You made me faint. By pinching my vagus nerve" He stated simply as he took her glass of wine from off the coffee table and drank a large sip of the Garnet liquid.

"I did" She found no use of denying it as she took a seat on her armchair, crossing a leg over the other.

To say it fascinated him how she oh so casually answered him, made him more and more intrigued by this mysterious woman he found himself obsessing over as of late. A small twitch of his lips indicated that he was enjoying where this conversation is currently leading them to.

"Did you feel threatened? A predator like me usually tends to project such aura" He spoke matter of fact while Bedelia had to resist the urge to roll her eyes .

"Threatened is not used in it's right context. I was simply reminding you that there are boundaries I'd rather you do not cross, for there will always be consequences to one's actions" She shot back with a tilt of her head and stood up to face him.

That only made this flame in the pit of his stomach ignite even more. A certain hunger and desire overtaking him to the point where he took a few steps closer to her, his nose begging to inhale the woman's intoxicating perfume. A perfect mix of jasmine and other white flowers, amber, and a certain muskiness with a lilt of spicy wood. A scent he'd love to drown his senses with.

He tilted her chin upwards with just his index finger and whispered into her ear "Dance with me?" And leaned back, staring at her lips and then looking back up at her eyes. She had to give it to him, he intrigued her, much more than she'd like to admit. And so, she gave a small nod of her head and took his offered hand, letting him lead her to the side before he settled his hand onto her waist and she on his shoulder as they began to gently sway to the soft symphony of Aznavour's ‘La Bohème’.

And so they danced..

[robotstrategy]

Recalled • Part 7 • 52 - Temple

Previous • Series Masterlist • Part 7 Masterlist • Next

TW: LIGHT BODY DYSMORPHIA

Roland gets home from work, he goes over to the fridge to check if he’s got any leftovers. He remembers that his father dropped off a batch of pisto, he ends up finding it in the back of the fridge. 

Roland cooks up some rice and an egg while microwaving the pisto. He puts it all together and it’s probably the best thing he’s ever had. Though that’s probably because he’s had cheap frozen stuff all week. 

After washing his dishes he goes to his room to reshower, he doesn’t entirely trust the showers at the swimming centre; mostly because he still smells like chlorine. 

He unglues his semi-wet clothes from his body, and stripping himself he looks in the mirror. He doesn’t like to look at himself much anymore, at least if he’s wearing something skin-tight or is butt-naked. He doesn’t look right, he looks bigger and softer, and somehow that annoys him. He clings to his stomach, there’s more fat there than there used to be. His legs and arms were skinny when he was first remade, but now they’re bigger. There are no scars to lace his arms anymore, he’s just a big teddy bear of a human. He hates it, he hates it so much, ever since Trevor made that comment about him he’s become aware of how weird he looks.

Roland looks back towards his bedroom door, the door he’ll have to go out of if he wants to get to the bathroom. He peeks his head out, listening intently to make sure Nero hasn’t come home. She usually doesn’t until the weekend, but it couldn’t hurt to check before he goes out with nothing but a towel to the bathroom. 

Certain that she’s not home he walks over to the bathroom. Once getting to the tub he just stares at it, unable to make the decision if he wants a bath or a shower. 

A bath would be nice and relaxing, but all Roland wants to do is get cleaned off and go to bed. A shower would be better, but the water runs loud and he’ll have to close the curtain, making him weary of every little noise outside of the shower. And he’ll have to look at his whole body in the shower. 

Roland gets out the rest of the bubble bath as he closes the plug in the tub. He slowly unravels the towel from himself as the water rises. He dips his toes into the warm water, he's decided to have a short bath before bed.

That doesn’t happen, ten minutes into the bath Roland lays in the warm water, comforted by the sound of bubbles slowly popping. 

He watches as his chest and belly rise and descend in the water. Considering how high they rise as he breathes he almost resembles a pregnant woman. Roland bursts out laughing, surprised he even had that thought, he feels a little happier as he sits up and starts to actually clean himself. As he cleans his legs he supposes that one of the perks of being recalled was that his body was super flexible. He could almost send his leg straight up in the tub. Makes him think of himself like a cat, if he was just a petite man he could probably fit himself into some small places. 

Roland starts to enter a laughing fit thinking about all the silly things he could do if he had a different body. He stands up in the tub, finally done cleaning himself, and he catches himself in the mirror again. He fully looks at himself, he can imagine all these things he could do with another body, but not his own. 

So he asks himself. ‘What could I say about a body like mine?’

He starts with the top of his body, his pecs were about the same size, though they seemed accentuated by the recent chubbiness of his abdomen. He remembers in the hospital he was recalled in he had jostled them a little, calling them “Man boobs.”

Going lower, there was said chubbiness. He supposes him being the parent in his family has finally caught up to him because he looks like a dad. Or maybe it was a craving for pudding when it was in the house. 

He looks a little lower…

“My girlfriend already knows about you, and I think she’ll be even happier to know how big you are,”

Roland immediately sits back in the cold bath water he hasn’t drained yet. He feels sick to his stomach remembering what Trevor told him as he was assaulted. Maybe Valerie is right, maybe it’s finally happening, the delayed response to the assault. It would explain why he feels gross as of late, Trevor did call him a “skanky, attention whore,” and a “disgusting, hairy monster.”

Roland looks at his reflection in the water, if that’s what Trevor thinks then so be it! He’ll be the skankiest attention whore ever! 

As he wraps himself in his towel he wonders how Trevor ever saw him as a skank. Sure, he was hormonal, but all he ever did was kiss Trevor and let him explore a little. When he turns to the side in the mirror it all clicks together. It’s his butt, that’s what makes Roland skanky to Trevor. He remembers after the night Trevor had approached him Nero jokingly told him he was blessed by his mother. She wasn’t wrong, because he definitely didn’t get it from his dad. 

Roland gets back to his room still inadvertently looking at himself in mirrors. He sees his beaten and scarred back in the mirror, it reminds him of the dream had with Hayden. A hibiscus flower tattoo, like in the dream those flowers don’t scare him much anymore, but he wonders how drugged up he’d have to be to not be in excruciating pain while being tattooed on his back. 

Roland climbs into his bed fully burying himself into the covers. He grabs one of the loose pillows and folds it into a tube, he places it in front of him, spooning it. This is what Roland wants tonight, he wants someone to love and to love him back, someone to cherish his body and enjoy his company outside of sex. So tonight he’ll settle for a pillow and the warm comfort of his bed.

[lirusstories]

Count, Till I Don't Know What Counts - Chapter 1: Every Nightmare Has an End

TW: Depression, Jack being talked about while coma, Begging, Mind Control(?), just, over all creepy scientist

A/N: The end is Egotober Day 8, yes that was intended, gonna try and update once a week but no promises

“And I will see all you dudes!” Chase takes a big deep breath in, “IN THE NEXT VIDEO!”

And then he stops, falling back in his chair as what little energy he had left leaves his body.

It takes him a good five minutes before he’s actually able to stop recording, turn off the camera and turn everything off before just sitting in the silent room, only lit by the ambience lights.

And then Chase just breaks down, first with tears streaming down his face with his hand over his mouth before just sobbing.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been crying for but he is rather startled out of it by a quiet, “Oh Chase…”

He quickly whips around to see Liru standing in the doorway, looking at him sadly.

He quickly begins wiping away his tears, turning away from the door. 

“Shit- I’m sorry.” He croaks out, “I didn’t hear you come in.”

He jumps again feeling a hand on his back before she’s next to him, having him look up at her. She looks at him so sadly and Chase can’t help but start crying all over again.

“C’mere love.” She murmurs softly as she encourages him out of his seat and gently cupping his cheek and wiping away a few tears.

“Jack?” Her voice cracks a little even asking. Chase swallows a lump in his throat as he nods.

She just pulls him into a strong hug and he slowly begins to cry again, he cries a little harder when he feels her tears on his shoulder.

They stay there like that for minutes until they both manage to calm their sobs and wiping away their tears.

Liru hugs him tightly once she’s free of tears and Chase hugs back once Chase 

“I just, miss him so much…” Chase finally says. “I just…”

“I miss him too.” She whispers back, sounding so choked up. “I miss his laugh.”

Chase lets out a stuttered breath, “Me too.”

“The only thing I don’t miss is him nearly burning down the kitchen.” Liru attempts to joke, to her relief, Chase lets out a watery chuckle.

“Let’s… Let’s go downstairs.” She tells him in a small voice, “Its… It’s not good to stay in here for long.” She barely gets out.

Chase nods and she gently holds his hand before turning and leading him out of the room before gently leading him downstairs and two the kitchen.

“Sit.” She tells him softly, “I’ll reheat some clam chowder.”

Chase nods and sits at the table as she grabs a pot and a container from the fridge, scooping enough for the two of them into the pot and putting the container back, putting the pot on the stove and turning it on before going and sitting at the table with him.

They sit in silence while Chase twists his ring around in an attempt to soothe themself.

“Do you remember his turmoil series?” Liru asks softly, breaking the silence.

“I do, I remember how badly you just wanted to take over for him for the first like, five episodes.” Chase recalls with a small smile.

Liru chuckles fondly as she remembers, “Poor thing had no idea what he was doing.”

“In his defense you learn things freakishly fast.” Chase tells her while she waves him off.

“It’s a simple game alright leave me alone.”

“Mmm, nah. I like being around you.” Chase responds with a chuckle, grinning softly, then widely when Liru flusters and reaches over to lightly smack his arm.

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” She hisses, her face a deep red. He can tell she doesn’t really mean it, she’s just never been one to be able to handle flirting.

Chase reaches over, gently grasping her hand with his left, the ring on it reflecting the light above.

“I’m afraid I can.” He tries to keep a serious face. She pouts playfully making Chase laugh a bit more.

“Hey, you’re the one who agreed to married us and that comes with all the flirting with it My Dear Rose.” Chase tells her in a fond voice with a chuckle.

She hums, smiling softly, though her face is still pink she has a calmer demeanor as she looks at him lovingly. 

“And I don’t regret it one bit My Flower.” She hums affectionately and it makes Chase melt. 

She smiles seeing his face turn a dark pink and it seems like he’s trying to hide his face under his short hair.

She chuckles and reaches up and stroke his cheek gently. He leans into her touch, reaching up to cup her hand in his own.

Chase swallows as the reason why they came down here in the first place comes flooding back.

“I don’t know how much longer I can do this…” He whispers quietly, sounding so small.

She’s quick to blink away her sudden tears at his words, 

“Why don’t you text and ask the others to pick the kids up from school, yeah?” She asks softly as she gets up.

Chase nods and fishes his phone from his pocket, sending a message in the group chat before getting him.

“Go pick out a movie to watch love, we can eat on the couch.” She murmurs, leaving a soft kiss on the top of his head before going and checking on the soup.

Chase nods and goes to the living room, choosing and putting on Bolt before helping her bring the bowls and glasses of water to the living room. 

Liru winces a little seeing the movie, this one always makes them both emotional, but she’s not complaining, she’ll gladly watch it with him. But she will be singing along. Not that chase will complain anyway.

And with that they snuggle up to each other on the couch.

.

Jackie comes home a few hours later with the kids, hushing them a little, he can hear them sleeping on the couch. The kids are giggling however as they see their mom and one of their dads sleeping on the couch together.

“Alright alright.” Jackie whispers. “Let's go upstairs and eat and work on your homework.” The kids pout at the thought of homework but are quick to make their way upstairs for their carls jr.

Jackie tiptoes over to the couch after giving the kids their bag of food  them running off with it upstairs. He turns the tv to YouTube to play something for them as they sleep but grabbing and putting the dirty dishes in the sink. 

Jackie gives one last understanding look to the sleeping pair before making his way upstairs.

------------

He feels floaty, he hates it.

Whenever he feels floaty something bad happens and he doesn’t want to hurt anyone again.

He finds himself mumbling apologies as he feels his body begins to rise and he begins to properly panic.

“Please.” He begs, voice warbled and warped beyond recognition, so deep it makes his throat sore.

Please don’t make him do it, don’t make him hurt them again please he begs for deaf ears.

They don’t care, sometimes if they’re especially sadistic they’ll taunt him. Asking if he’s excited to feel blood between his finger again after a particularly long time.

God, he feels tired, like he could sleep for a thousand years and never wake up. 

He wishes he could. In his floaty haze, he wishes they’d just kill him already. They’ve already taken everything from him.

But they still refusing to show any mercy to the pleading man, he’s nothing more than an object to them.

“Just go to sleep.” The scientist says in a soothing voice, like talking to a cornered animal. Their voice sounds too calming and it makes him so, so tired. He attempts to fight the darkness away amidst his floaty haze but he just can’t.

“You’re just going to have a little fun.” The scientist continues.

“Please…” He whispers as bright silvery tears begin to fall, his voice sounds so fare away.

“Oh none of that. Just get some sleep, you’ll be fine.”

Anti can’t help but consumed by the darkness as he fades out of consciousness, his last sight being the smiling scientist.

.

Anti wakes up much later, the smell of blood permeating his nose making him want to gag, but he feels too weak to even do that.

His vision his blurry and the light blinding him is not helping and oh god his hands are sticky with congealing blood. Oh fuck who did he hurt? He can feel his heart beginning to race as he tries to remember.

Then he gets a flash, Jameson, oh god he feels like he’s gonna be sick.

He tries to push himself up so he can move to the toilet and throw up but his arms give out before he can get his legs under him.

He can hear the sound of Jameson screaming so clearly in his ears and his insane laughter ringing in his mind before the tears begin to fall again, much heavier than before, before a sob tears through his throat and he just quietly curls into a ball on the floor, sobbing out soft apologies to his little brother that he knows will never hear him.

Hello! If you enjoy our work and wish to see more, including spoilers, cut scene's or replaced scene's feel free to join our discord!

And if you really enjoy our work and want/are able to help us out, feel free to buy us a ko-fi or send us somethin on paypal!

Taglist: @glitchyartist @brokentimewatch

[voraciousvore]

Big Corp Inc. (37/43)

***Some vore/ sexual content***

Chapter 37: Sickness

Of course, Mr. Hardon had slipped one of the human pills into the sausage that he fed Candy, so she wouldn’t be digested alive. When he was finished with his breakfast, he pleasured himself at his desk for a while in the privacy of his own office, since swallowing Candy and feeling her moving around inside him was an erotic experience for him. He kept her in his belly for the full amount of time that the pills would allow. He even got some work done. He was in a cheerful mood, very relaxed, and completed his work projects with alacrity. 

When the time was up, he extracted Candy from his stomach using the rope with the light and scrubbed the acid off her skin so she wouldn’t be harmed. He gave her a new set of office clothes and made sure to return her to her desk before lunch, so nobody would become suspicious and notice her absence. Candy was melancholic and fatigued from the stress and her futile efforts to get away. She stared dully at her computer screen, eyes glazed over, failing to process anything. She felt as if a great weight were crushing her. 

“Candy?” a Giant’s voice resounded above her, startling her and making her flinch away. She looked up to find Martin standing over her. She sighed with relief, placing her hand over her chest. 

“Oh, Martin. Thank goodness it’s you. You scared me.” 

“Sorry,” Martin apologized, transferring her into his hand. He started walking to the break room. Candy snuggled up against him, reveling in the comfort his gigantic presence gave her. She just wanted everything else to go away. “Are you doing okay?” 

No, she definitely was not. “I’m fine,” she choked out. She had to protect Martin from Mr. Hardon’s wrath, so he wouldn’t be fired. He couldn’t know what was going on. “Just not feeling well today.” It wasn’t entirely a lie: She felt absolutely terrible.  

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” Martin said. Candy’s heart fluttered with his kind words. She knew she wouldn’t be able to survive through this hell without him. “Did you forget to bring a lunch again? You can have some of mine. It’s not like you eat much anyways, since you’re so small.” 

“Y-yeah,” Candy lied. She didn’t want to eat anything after marinating in Mr. Hardon’s foul gastric juices for hours. She had been beyond terrified when he swallowed her, since he hadn’t given her the pill. She thought she was going to die. When the fumes and chemicals in his stomach failed to burn or suffocate her, however, she figured he must have slipped her a pill in the food he gave her, and his real motivation for being nice to her was revealed. Despair clawed at her, but she tried her best to fight it off and conceal it, for Martin’s sake. She didn’t want to make him feel bad. 

Martin got his food out of the break room fridge and heated it up in the microwave, holding Candy against him as he did so. He petted her with his fingers to soothe her, since he could tell she wasn’t doing well, although he didn’t know the real reason why. He decided to take her to his cubicle, rather than stay in the break room. He sat down, setting her on his desk, and showed her what he brought for lunch. 

“I made this myself last night. Fried chicken and biscuits with gravy. Feel free to have some if you want.” At the mention of biscuits, Candy’s face drained of color and she started to tremble. Her experience from just that morning was still too fresh in her mind to let go. She vividly recalled swimming in digestive fluids in blackness, churning among chunks of dissolving breakfast foods, dodging more ingested slop as it rained down from above, taking in all the repulsive sounds and odors. She dropped to her hands and knees and barfed. 

“Oh, you poor thing! You must be getting sick!” Martin cried. He cleaned up her mess with a napkin and collected her frail, listless body in his hands. “You want me to take you home?” 

Candy wanted to say yes, but she wasn’t sure if Mr. Hardon would get upset with her and give her some deplorable punishment if she left early. She gave a faint shrug. Martin hugged her against his chest and whisked her away to the boss’s office. Mr. Hardon was typing on his computer. He appeared to be in a good humor, so Martin hoped he would let them leave early. 

“Mr. Hardon, Candy is sick and just threw up all over my desk. Do you mind if I help her home?” Martin asked.  

Mr. Hardon looked up with a stern expression. He was starting to really dislike Martin, due to his close proximity to Candy. “Fine. But I want you back here as soon as you’re done.”  

Martin left the office, taking the elevator down to the lobby. He stopped when he stepped outside. “Candy, do you want me to drop you off at the station? Or would you prefer to rest at my apartment until I get home?” 

Candy picked the obvious choice, and Martin chauffeured her to his domicile. He took her into the bedroom and set her down gently on one of the pillows on his bed so she would be comfortable. He brushed some strands of hair off her face, gave her a soft kiss, and whispered some tender parting words to her before leaving to finish out his workday. 

Even though Candy wasn’t sick in actuality, she was tired and depressed, so she lay where Martin had left her on the pillow. She had no energy or motivation to rouse herself. The apartment was quiet and peaceful, and she was comforted being surrounded by Martin’s things. With nothing to occupy her mind except the torment of her existence, she eventually fell asleep. 

She woke up when Martin returned from work and opened the front door. She could tell he was trying to be quiet, but with his colossal size such a task proved difficult for him, particularly since his footsteps alone vibrated the floor. He padded in to check on her and she pretended to be asleep. He stood over her, gazing down at her for a minute before changing out of his suit and into more casual clothing, as silently as he could manage. He left the room and carefully closed the door behind him so Candy could get more rest. 

The daylight outside slowly drained away and the sky grew soft. Martin came back in to check on her. He was balancing a tiny human bowl of soup in his palm, trying his best not to spill it. He offered the food to Candy and she gladly slurped it up, since she was hungry after throwing up her breakfast. She ate a second bowl and some toast and cracker crumbs. Martin was relieved to see she was physically doing better, but spiritually she still seemed drained. He supposed it made sense, if she was ill and lacked energy. 

It was too early to go to sleep, but Martin undressed and settled his vast frame on the bed. He laid on his side and held Candy gently against his immense chest, cuddling with her. She was in paradise, enveloped by his soft, warm body. His Giant heartbeat and breathing made her feel safe. His natural scent calmed her into a serene state. She believed, as long as Martin held her as he did, everything would be alright. He could protect her from the evils of the world. 

Candy dreaded going to work the next day, but she felt she didn’t have a choice. She was certain Mr. Hardon would not react well to her skipping out on work and would retaliate against Martin. She tried her best to outwardly stay positive and happy, so Martin wouldn’t suspect anything. Her excuse of being sick helped explained her muted reactions. She convinced Martin she was healthy enough to work, so he tucked her into his shirt pocket and headed out. 

Candy felt worse and worse the closer they got to the Big Corp building. She didn’t want to go in. She felt like she couldn’t endure any more abuse. Her heart couldn’t take it. She wanted to burst into tears and tell Martin to take her far away from here, somewhere, anywhere, where they could live together in sweet bliss and no harm would befall either of them. Alas, she couldn’t see how such a fantasy could be possible. Martin poked his fingers into his pocket and Candy climbed up into them so he could pull her out. He set her down on her desk and crouched down to her level so he could see her better. 

“I’ll be back at lunch,” he told her, stroking her face with the lightest touch of his pointer finger. “I love you.” He smiled and stood up.  

“Love you too,” she replied, reaching for his finger with her hands as he pulled away. “Don’t go,” she whispered to herself, too quiet for Martin to hear as he strode away. Her heart jumped into her throat as Mr. Hardon emerged from his office with a savage leer. 

“Martin! Wait up!” he called, following the other Giant down the hall with pounding footsteps that rattled the nearby desks. He was hauling a thick ream of papers under his arm. 

Martin turned around. “Yes, sir?” 

“I have some important work I need you to complete as soon as possible,” he demanded, shoving the papers haphazardly into Martin’s arms. “Very important stuff. By the end of the week, if possible.” 

Martin raised his eyebrows as he leafed through the big stack. “Oh, dear... this is a lot. I don’t know if I’ll be able to-” 

“Is there a problem, Martin?” Mr. Hardon interjected, raising his voice. 

Martin shrank back a bit, surprised by the boss’s aggression. “N-no, sir, I’ll get it done. I’ll get right on it. I’ll work overtime if necessary.” He briskly headed over to his desk, scratching his head. He was going to have his hands full. 

“Good riddance,” Mr. Hardon muttered under his breath, and made his way over to Candy’s desk. “Why, good morning, my tasty little snack! Are you ready for another day?” 

“No! Don’t touch me!” Candy implored. “Please... I beg you... just leave me alone...” She began to cry. Mr. Hardon ignored her supplications and coiled his hand around her, making her squeak with alarm. He carried her into his office, like a falcon might carry a mouse in its talons to its nest, and slammed the door behind him. 

A few cubicles down, Ronny eavesdropped on the whole exchange with curiosity. He could hear Candy’s muffled high-pitched screams through the closed door, and the bass rumble of Mr. Hardon’s voice, though he couldn’t make out what the Giant was saying to her. Ronny’s face and body were still bruised up from the beating he had gotten from Martin. He blamed Candy. As he listened to the voices through the door, Candy’s shrieks became more strained and frantic, and Mr. Hardon was making odd noises, like low moans. Ronny’s lips curled into a bitter smirk. He believed she deserved whatever came to her. 

Chapter 38

Chapter 1

[twstgabrielle]

Reading Guidelines and Warnings: The 2012 boys will be addressed by their full names unless they're speaking about each other or addressing one another. The Rise boys will be addressed by their nicknames. Also this fic will contain spoilers for both shows and will have mentioned major character death as well as language. If any of this makes you uncomfortable I highly recommend that y'all check out my other works.

Today was already a somewhat interesting day in Mikey's opinion. From waking up to now being currently soaked by a water balloon it was suffice to say that his day was going to be a bit better than it'd been the last few days. The box turtle wiped his face to get rid of the water, already having a clue as to who was responsible for the prank. Especially when he'd caught sight of Raph earlier being completely soaked with an amused yet exasperated expression on his face and was now hearing Raphael's loud confused and colorful swearing coming from the living room.

"Classic Leon pranking. Never gets old."

Mikey mused softly a smile coming onto his face as he thought of the slider. The youngest Hamato was honestly surprised with himself for not foreseeing his older brother's course of action, given that the lair had been filled with nothing but grieving silences and mourning for those who were no longer amongst them. Leo was never good at the emotional vulnerability and it had only been a matter of time before his older brother would do something about it. The small box turtle looked at his hands now wet with water and picked off the little bits of latex from the exploded water balloon that had hit him, realizing that the mess was bigger than he originally thought. With a mindless shrug Mikey began to make his way towards the kitchen to throw the pieces of balloon away and to find either paper towels or a dish rag to dry himself off. As he drew near the kitchen he couldn't help but feel a bit of anxiety hit him, recalling the last time he'd gone to the kitchen to do something.

'Wouldn't want to repeat what you did a few days ago. You've already upset everyone enough.'

The thought vicious and filled with guilt hit him hard and made him flinch a bit. He had never met to cause such a horrific turn of events by eavesdropping nor did he mean to hurt the older turtles as well as his brothers with it. He could still see the forced smile on Michelangelo's face when he'd exited the kitchen, the puffy eyes and the stained freckled cheeks.

'You made him cry, because you weren't paying attention. You hurt your friend.'

His thoughts hissed as he shook his head to disperse them. He didn't want to get upset again, didn't want to cry and think about the knowledge he'd learned. Forcing himself to get a grip Mikey took a deep breath and stepped inside the kitchen and took in the area. The kitchen was old and full of all sorts of things that were different from his own home. Kitchen utensils and cabinets and an ancient stove and fridge filled the room adding a homely touch of sorts. Pictures hung on the fridge as well as small sticky notes written in different colored inks and writing styles. A kitchen table and four chairs that were older sat in the middle of the room, on the counters sat the microwave and some food items. A little bit further down the counter sat a toaster that looked like it'd been fixed several times throughout the years and had a little sign hanging on the wall next to it. Mikey felt himself grow curious at the sight of the toaster and the sign, his earlier guilt filled thoughts being pushed back a bit as he stepped towards the counter to get a better look at it. Light brown hues squinted a bit to read.

No touching the toaster, I'm getting sick of fixing it, if you want to use it get me, Raph or Mikey. But for the love of pizza keep your hands off it! -D

The sign said making Mikey snicker in amusement.

'Seems like my bro isn't the only one who struggles with the toaster.'

Mikey mused absolutely giddy with the knowledge that the toaster was apparently an enemy of all blue clad turtles everywhere. A little bit lighter than he had been previously Mikey continued to look around the kitchen only now in search for a trashcan to get rid of his balloon pieces. It didn't take him long to find it and he disposed of the trash, before beginning his next search for something to dry himself off with. However this search wasn't as easy as the first one and he found himself digging around a bit. Opening a few cabinets and the one underneath the sink he was met with things such as food, plates, cleaning supplies and cleaners yet there was no sign of any paper towels or dish rags. The box turtle gave a small huff as he continued his search, opening up more cabinets. The next one he'd opened up was full of tins of different varieties of drinks. From coffee to punch to tea, it was practically filled with it. However one tin stuck out in particular since this one had a little hand written note on its side.

Tea bags for Leo's throat, please do not touch them. -D

The note said written in the same hand writing as the sign by the toaster. Mikey felt a pang of confusion as he stared at the tin.

'Tea bags for Leo's throat? Wonder what that's all about......wait no. Mikey don't go poking around in it, remember what happened last time. Save this for a later date.'

His mind scolded him making him tear his eyes from the tin of tea bags to continue his search. A few minutes later he still couldn't find the paper towels or dish rags, and he was about to just give it up and call it quits.

"Hey Raph have you seen my-oh! Little dude, sup? You need something?"

A voice suddenly came from behind Mikey nearly making the box turtle scream in fright. Whirling around his wide light brown hues landed on the familiar figure of Michelangelo. The older Hamato had jumped a bit as well from how fast Mikey had spun around, his baby blue eyes wide in a startled manner.

"Mike-! Holy shell you scared me!"

Mikey said his tone a bit rushed as he tried to calm his racing heart. Michelangelo gave him a small apologetic smile, rubbing his neck in somewhat embarrassment.

"Ah sorry little dude, I didn't mean to spook you so badly. I was just wondering if you needed something."

Michelangelo said giving the younger turtle another smile. Mikey felt his heart jump a bit in an anxious manner, offering his older counterpart a small half smile.

"Uh yeah I was looking for paper towels or some dish rags, I'd gotten wet earlier and I was hoping to dry myself off."

Mikey said. Michelangelo perked up and was already moving further into the kitchen to help him.

"Oh! The paper towels are behind the cooking utensils holder by the fridge!"

Michelangelo chirped happily reaching over to grab them for his friend. Mikey watched him, feeling himself relax a bit at his older alternate self's chipper attitude.

"To be honest I was going to get some myself, I'd gotten pranked and I wanted to clean up from the water."

Michelangelo said as he handed Mikey the paper towels after taking a few for himself. The box turtle took them finally taking notice of Michelangelo's wet shell.

"Leo got you too? Man he's on a roll today."

Mikey mused outloud earning a curious look from his older doppelganger.

"Leo? Wait your brother was the one who pranked me?? Bro that's sick, it's not easy to prank me like that. Your bro's got some mad skills son!"

The older orange turtle praised making Mikey smile a bit in pride for his older brother.

"Yeah.....Leon's always good at this stuff."

Mikey said thinking about all the pranks Leo had done as he went quiet and dried himself off. Michelangelo had began to do the same, causing a small silence to build between the two orange turtles. Mikey patted his neck with the paper towel, trying not to show just how nervous he was. The box turtle and his older counterpart hadn't really talked much since the incident in the dojo, mainly because the younger turtle had felt too guilty to approach the older turtle. Despite knowing logically that what happened was an accident, it still didn't stop the guilt and shame that had begun to build up within him which in turn made him somewhat avoid the older alternate version of himself for the past few days. And deep down he knew that eventually he'd have to face the music and confront these feelings he was facing yet he wasn't quite ready to now that he was in the same room as Michelangelo.

'Come on Mikey, this isn't like you. You're good at the whole feelings thing, and you know that if don't talk to him it'll cause problems down the line. So what's stopping you?'

A voice belonging to his inner Dr. Feelings whispered in his head as the silence began to stretch between the duo while they dried themselves off. It was a good question, what was stopping him from clearing the air between them, what was stopping him from facing the music?

'I'm afraid.....I'm afraid that I'd hurt Mike too badly and that he won't want to be my friend anymore. I'm afraid of what his answer will be when I apologize for all the trouble I caused.'

He responded back feeling that familiar wave of anxiety from the past few days come back. It was no secret that despite the short time spent with his older doppelganger, Mikey had grown somewhat attached to Michelangelo and now considered him a friend. And like many new friendships he had wanted to try and build up on it to make it more sturdy. It was a delicate territory to trend and anything that was too much could kill that new budding friendship and make it turn sour like rotting fruit. And he'd unintentionally killed that possibly friendship by bringing up an obvious traumatic and painful memory that Michelangelo had experienced not too long ago. A pang of guilt, shame and sorrow hit him, making his hands shake slightly in tremors. So much so that he didn't even realize that Michelangelo had finished drying himself off and had noticed the younger's distress.

"Hey little Mikey you alright bro? You're shaking..."

Michelangelo said his voice, usually loud and full of childish excitement, now soft and concerned as he reached out to place a hand on his younger counterpart's shell. Mikey snapped his head up towards Michelangelo, seeing the concerned look in his gaze, open and full of patience with no hint of anger. It was this look that made Mikey break. The box turtle didn't even hesitate before he began to speak.

"I'm.....I'm so sorry Mike. I'm so sorry for making you and your brothers cry, I'm so sorry for making you all hurt and I'm so sorry for eavesdropping-! It's all my fault that you and your brothers got upset and I swear I never meant to hurt you or your family I didn't know and I know that you probably hate me for it-"

Mikey began to say his sentences becoming rushed as he let his distress and regret get the best of him. The younger orange turtle was practically word vomiting when he was interrupted by a firm shake against his shell.

"Mikey! Little dude you have no reason to apologize for that stuff. You didn't know about Master Splinter nor did you know what we'd been through. Me and my bros don't blame you for what happened nor do we hold anything against you and I most certainly don't hate you!"

Michelangelo said sounding upset and serious as he shook the younger turtle a bit in the hopes of getting him to listen to him. Mikey's mouth opened a bit in a gap, his light brown eyes filled with a bit of a shiny moisture as he took in what the older turtle said.

"But.....but...."

Mikey began to say only to again be cut off.

"It's seriously okay little dude, no one's angry with you for what happened. If I'm honest with ya, it was probably for the better to get it out in the open then to stay quiet about it. So you basically did us a favor little dude, so don't beat yourself up for what happened."

Michelangelo said his tone sincere and strong with conviction as he stared straight into Mikey's gaze. Mikey just stared back searching for a hint of a lie, however he was only met with sincerity. Mikey felt his heart lighten as he realized that Michelangelo didn't hate him nor were he and his brothers angry with him. In that moment it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off of his shoulders and Mikey finally gave Michelangelo a watery smile as he wiped his eyes to get rid of the moisture that had been building up.

"Still I'm....I'm sorry about what happened. I never would have brought it up if.....if I knew that it would hurt you."

Mikey said trying to show the older orange clad turtle just how much he regretted it. Michelangelo just gave him a small smile back and rubbed his shell comfortingly.

"I know you wouldn't. You're a good guy Mikey and me as well as my brothers already know that you wouldn't do something like that on purpose. So relax your shell a bit, you've already been forgiven."

Michelangelo said his voice a lot more lighter and back to its original cheerful tone that it was known for. Mikey practically sagged in relief and finally gave Michelangelo a brighter smile which in turn made the older one smile right back. Giving Mikey's shell one last comforting pat Michelangelo finally removed his hand. The once quiet atmosphere that had been weighing between them was gone and now replaced with a newer much more brighter one as the duo finally talked and cleared everything up. Michelangelo turned away from Mikey to go and throw his paper towel away, his chipper voice calling out.

"You wanna help me get started on lunch little me? I could definitely use the extra set of hands!"

Michelangelo asked as he started to get things ready and grab the cooking utensils. Mikey felt his face break out into an excited grin, the guilt and regret that had been eating away at him for the past few days now gone.

"Oh me gosh I'd love too!"

The younger turtle chirped happily earning a cheerful laugh from the older turtle.

"Heck yeah bro, glad to have your help! For your first task as my helper can you get me the vegetables from the freezer? We're gonna make a quick stir fry for lunch."

The older Hamato said already taking the lead as he got the stir fry pan to get started. The younger Hamato let out a chipper confirmation and went to go grab the frozen veggies for the older turtle. Practically skipping towards the fridge he reached up towards the upper freezer compartment of it and pulled the door open. Freezing cold air hit his face and arms making him shiver for a moment. Reaching into the freezer Mikey began his search for the veggies when he felt something graze his fingers. The orange turtle teen froze at the sensation, confusion suddenly hitting him. However he was taken out of it when again he felt that sensation against his fingers, a smooth yet rough kind of texture was running over his scaly fingers, in a motion that kept repeating itself almost as if.......

"Meow~"

A loud happy meow sounded from within the freezer, a puddle of Neapolitan ice cream moving from the corner of the freezer to come closer to the entrance. Two eyes blinked up at him and the ice cream began to take the shape of a feline, with two floppy cat ears peeking out of the head and two tiny front paws appearing from the pile of ice cream. Mikey's eyes had grown to the size of dinner plates, shock and disbelief written all over his expression before it morphed into a starry eyed look as a bright gap toothed grin stretched out on his dark green face.

"HOLY PIZZA SUPREME-!!! YOU HAVE A ICE CREAM CAT?????"

Mikey's voice practically cracked with how loud he had said the sentence in his childish excitement and glee. Michelangelo's head snapped up and his own pale green freckled face broke out into its own wide grin as he stepped away from the stove and stepped towards the freezer to greet the ice cream cat within. The frozen feline mewed in a chipper way, greeting her owner with happiness.

"Oh yeah-! I'd forgotten to introduce you to her-! Mikey, this is my pet Ice Cream Kitty! Ice Cream Kitty, this is my new little dude Mikey!"

The older orange clad teen said introducing the two. Ice Cream Kitty let out a series of meows and purrs as if she was saying hello to Mikey. The small box turtle couldn't help but giggle a bit, absolutely in love with the feline.

"She's so cute Mike! I've never seen a cat made of ice cream before!"

Mikey chirped as he began to pet the frozen feline. Ice Cream Kitty responded with a small purring noise, rubbing her dairy product head against Mikey's hand.

"Yeah, Ice Cream Kitty wasn't always ice cream. She was once a normal stray kitty that our friend brought to the lair, but after an incident of her eating ice cream and getting doused in mutagen she mutated into this. She's been like this ever since, but she seems happy."

Michelangelo explained reaching inside himself to pet his beloved pet. Mikey paused in his petting, turning his attention towards the older alternate turtle in curiosity.

"Whoa wait mutagen? You mean like the stuff that mutated us? But how did she get doused in it, if it's been carried by mosquitoes?"

The younger turtle asked making the older turtle pause his own petting to look at the younger with the same look of curiosity.

"She got into one of the broken canisters of mutagen that Donnie was studying, wait what do mosquitoes have to do with it?"

The older Hamato asked confused yet interested.

"Ah well in my universe we didn't have canisters of mutagen. The way mutagen was given to people and animals to mutate them was by mosquitoes, or rather mystic mosquitoes. They were released into the city after we'd faced off against our first bad guy, Baron Draxum. A sheep yokai scientist who was more or less the reason me and my family were mutated. But he's changed since then and has gotten a lot better!"

The younger Hamato explained smiling brightly as he thought about how far his second father had come. Michelangelo meanwhile just stared at his younger counterpart in shock and intrigue as he began to grow amazed by what he was learning.

"Mystic mosquitoes??? Yokai??? Like Japanese Yokai??? Holy shell dude that's insane!!!"

The older teen said his voice full of excitement. The younger turtle gave a head tilt in confusion.

"Yeah those, wait do you guys not have mystics or yokai here???"

The box turtle asked shocked by the thought of not having those things.

"No bro, we don't got stuff like that here! The only thing we've got is spiritual and healing mantra stuff though we do have some types of magic like witchcraft! Our friend Shinigami is an excellent ninja who can do witchcraft! And Leo's practically a master of spiritual and healing mantras! Like it's crazy! We also have aliens from another dimension, the Kraang, and they're the ones who made the mutagen here in our world!"

The older turtle said explaining in his ecstatic tone while Mikey just blinked in dumbfounded shock. Aliens??? Mantras???? Witchcraft????? What?????? The orange turtle was about to spew several thousand questions at his older counterpart when a voice suddenly broke through the conversation.

"Michael, other Michael you're both needed in the living room. Don and I's orders."

A voice plain and blunt came from the doorway making the two orange turtles turn around to catch the sight of Donnie. The soft shell didn't seem too pleased with something, his expression uncharacteristically serious. Mikey felt his gut sink at the look and Michelangelo seemed to straighten himself up somewhat as he took in the seriousness that came off of the purple turtle.

"We'll be there, I need to turn off the stove first and then we'll meet you and Dee there."

Michelangelo said his voice relaxed yet somewhat more serious.

"We'll be right there Donald, that's a promise."

Mikey piped up to reassure his older brother. Donnie glanced at the two of them, his dark brown eyes searching before giving a nod. Without another word the genius soft shell left the kitchen leaving Mikey and Michelangelo alone once more with Ice Cream Kitty. The two orange clad turtles exchanged a look with one another before they quietly split up to do their tasks quickly, the preparation for lunch now put on hold. Michelangelo bid Ice Cream Kitty a goodbye placing a kiss on her head before going to turn off the stove and make sure that everything was away from it while Mikey gave her a gentle head pat and closed the freezer door so he could help his older doppelganger. The two didn't say anything but they both knew one thing.

Something was coming and it wasn't good.

~~~~~

Being the oldest Hamato son wasn't the easiest thing in the world. Yet it was a role that Raph bared on his shoulders with a sense of pride. He was the big brother, the leader of the Mad Dogs and the one who his loved ones could depend on. It was a role that Raph did well, a role that made him essentially who he was. Even when the leadership role was given to his younger brother Leo, he still was the oldest Hamato son and it was his duty to support his family in times such as this. To support them when their world had shattered and crumbled around them after finding out about Master Splinter. And he did this task with no complaints, cheering his little brothers up and offering comfort when they grieved for the father that wasn't theirs and for a grandmother who had sacrificed her very life to protect them from the Shredder. He supported them for those few days, while also keeping a keen eye on the older turtles, ready to step in should they too need his assistance. Raph had been so immersed with his duties that he'd in a way forgotten to think about himself and his own needs.

It was something that happened from time to time, moments where he'd forget about himself and keep his inner feelings to himself so he could be there for his loved ones. It was a habit that was rarely used unless the situations grew dire. Such as the revelation of Master Splinter's demise, and the effects it'd had on his brothers as well as himself. It was a somewhat stressful situation that he was in and the habit had ended up rearing its head. So it was really no surprise when a few days later Raph had been somewhat greeted with a good dosage of classic Leo affection via water balloon once everything had settled down. The large snapping turtle could only let out a long exasperated sigh as he was suddenly soaked on the back of his neck and spiky shell, with no signs of the assailant anywhere. Raph knew that it was Leo who had been causing the pranks, since Mikey had passed him not too long ago soaked himself and the sudden loud and confused swearing that sounded from the living room filled the lair.

Raph was by the ping ball machine heading towards the bathroom to use the mirror to see the back of his shell to get rid of the shredded water balloon when the irritated growls of confused swearing came closer towards him. The snapping turtle didn't have to wait long to see his shorter counterpart Raphael come stomping by, his bright green eyes narrowed in irritation as he growled.

"I swear to God when I get my hands on who did this bullshit I'm gonna dunk their head in a bucket of fucking water...."

Raphael hissed as he stomped by, not even noticing Raph who was staring wide eyed at the nasty swearing. Dark green hues followed the shorter turtle as he drew further away, his head and ragged red mask soaked with water. Raph had to bit back a curse of his own when he realized that Raphael was going for the bathroom as well.

'This might not end well.'

The large turtle thought already feeling his nervous sweating start up as he followed behind to go grab a towel. It didn't take long to reach the bathroom and Raphael's voice coming from it.

"Stupid water balloons, stupid pranks pain in my shell I swear to God. I'm too old for this shit."

Raphael growled as Raph awkwardly stood by the open door. Shimmying a bit Raph debated whether he should knock or say something when Raphael's voice speaking up startled him.

"If you're going to just stand outside the bathroom door could you at least hand me the damn towel from the cabinet?"

Raphael said not even bothering to act like he was having a good time. Raph jumped a bit at being addressed by his older and shorter doppelganger and awkwardly went to grab the towel while not trying to make the hot headed red turtle more upset.

"Ah sorry man-! Didn't mean to just.....stand around I just wanted to use the mirror for a bit....."

Raph said rambling a bit as he grabbed the towel and held it out to Raphael. Raphael finally turned his attention towards the larger and younger turtle, his irritation still there but less burning as he regarded the large snapping turtle.

"The mirror? Why would you need the mirror for.....?"

Raphael began to question before he finally noticed that Raph was also wet, and that pieces of latex water balloon was stuck in his shell and its spikes. Suddenly understanding the shorter turtle glared a bit annoyed that he apparently wasn't the only victim in this prank fest.

"Ah they got you too? Bastard's gotta be fast if he's able to get two of us as quickly as he did."

Raphael said gruff as he moved over in the bathroom to give Raph some room to check himself out in the mirror. Raph only hesitated for a beat before carefully making his way into the bathroom to get a look at his shell, a bit relieved that Raphael wasn't going to snap at him. The large red clad turtle didn't want to start a fight with the shorter one, especially since the group of eight had finally managed to start moving forward with their mission and getting along with one another.

"We weren't the only ones that got hit, Mikey did too."

Raph supplied in earning a look from Raphael as he turned around to make his large spiky shell face the mirror.

"Mikey, I'm guessing your Mikey right?"

Raphael asked gruff but curious, the irritation dying down a bit now that he was talking to distract himself. The larger turtle nodded smiling a small snaggletoothed grin at the thought of the box turtle.

"Yep that's the one."

Raph said as he looked at his shell seeing bits and pieces of balloon stuck within his spikes. The snapping turtle felt a hint of annoyance when he realized that the pieces of the ruined balloon were in areas that he couldn't quite reach on his own.

'Oh Leon you little....'

The thought popped up annoyed by his little brother's lack of aim.

'Couldn't he have at least hit me somewhere where I could reach it?'

He thought as he seemed to glare into the mirror in his annoyance. Raphael must have came to realize what was going on because he suddenly spoke up from beside Raph.

"If you need help getting those out of your shell I can do it."

Raphael said gruffly making Raph's dark green hues snap towards him in a startled and flustered manner.

"What-? Oh no man you don't gotta do that I'll figure it out-"

Raph began to say only to earn a sigh.

"Look if you need help then accept help, there's no need to get all noble just because you don't want to inconvenience people. Now do you need my help with that or not?"

The shorter red clad teen said his voice short and holding very little patience for beating around the bush. The larger red clad teen stared at his older alternate self with a stunned look, not quite used to being spoken to so bluntly and shortly. Nor was he used to being seen so well then the way he'd just experienced. Raph wasn't the type to bother people with things like this, not wanting to trouble them with little things that he should be able to do himself. He was seventeen after all practically an adult. Yet here he was being essentially called out by this shorter, angrier and ruder variation of himself and he honestly had no idea how to respond to it. So instead of thinking too much about it he just gave a small nod embarrassed.

".......Fine can you help me get this off my shell....?"

The snapping turtle asked his voice small sounding as he felt the embarrassment of the situation hit him. Raphael on the other hand didn't bother to acknowledge it, instead taking it at a completely normal face value and placed his damp towel into the laundry basket.

"Yeah I can help you. We'll need to go to my room though seeing as how you're huge and I'll need to ya know have access."

The older Hamato said already stepping by Raph and making his way towards his bedroom so he could help the younger teen. Raph only took a moment to follow the two red turtles not saying a word to one another as they made their way to Raphael's room. It didn't take long and before Raph knew it he was sitting cross legged on Raphael's bedroom floor surrounded by comic books and weapons and weights. A punching bag sat in the corner of the room and a pinboard full of pictures filled the wall near the bed. Raphael had placed himself on the bed, a small trashcan beside his foot and the older turtle began to pick out the shredded remains of the water balloon. As he did this Raph took his time to look more throughly around the bedroom, curious about his older counterpart's life. Dark green hues scanned the living space finally landing on that pinboard full of pictures that were pinned up along with various other things such as childhood trinkets and drawings and cards. The snapping turtle's gaze flickered over the photos, taking notice of each of them. In one corner there was an old family photo of Raphael and his brothers, all small children. Another photo was one of them as younger teenagers, perhaps fifteen years old all of them smiling at the camera in their own ways. Standing behind them was Master Splinter, a small smile of his own on his face. Another family photo was there as well but now there were two humans in the picture. One was of a teenage boy with wild and messy black hair that was tied with a black and grey bandanna and dark brown eyes full of mischievous glee, a large smile full of a few missing teeth greeting him. He had his arm over Raphael in the picture. The other human was a teenage girl with bright red hair that was held up in a headband and ponytail, her face full of light freckles and a sweet smile. Steely blue eyes smiled back at him from the photo.

'Wonder who they are?'

Raph mused before his attention was on another photo. This one was of Raphael who looked a lot younger, holding what looked like a pet turtle in a gentle yet firm hold. The turtle child was smiling in the picture holding his pet with glee.

"You had a pet turtle?"

Raph found himself asking without thinking about it. Raphael who was busy picking the pieces of the balloon out stiffened at the question, stilling all his movements.

"........Yeah I did. His name was Spike."

Raphael finally answered his voice gruff and surprisingly soft as he slowly resumed his task. Raph felt his skin prickle at the sudden tone change, realizing that he had asked about a sensitive topic.

"Uh sorry I don't mean to be nosy about your life. I was just wondering is all."

The large teen said his nervous sweat beginning up again. The snapping turtle wasn't usually a nervous person when it came to these things, but he had no idea how to act or respond to Raphael. The shorter turtle seemed to radiate an aura of don't talk to me and it was difficult to figure out how to go about it. As Raph internally scrambled to figure out what to say Raphael meanwhile had noticed that sudden nervousness of the larger red turtle and couldn't help but mentally scold himself for being so blunt and unapproachable. While most of the time it was his intended goal, given the circumstances currently he had to at least try to be somewhat open with getting to know Raph. So with a deep breath and a small mental pep talk Raphael spoke up.

"Is this some kind of thing that you and your brothers do? Always apologize for things that's out of your control? Cause that's gonna get pretty old, pretty fast."

The older turtle said bluntly making the younger turtle sweat a bit more.

"If you're curious about stuff I won't shut you down, and if it's something that I don't want you to know then I won't answer it."

The older Hamato continued making sure that his message was getting across to the snapping turtle. Said snapping turtle was quiet for a moment processing what Raphael was saying before he let out a sigh and finally relaxed somewhat.

"Okay, I'll lay off on the apologies and take your word for it."

The red clad turtle said deciding to just go with it and trust the older teen. If Raphael said that it was fine to ask him things and to just talk to him then he'd do it. It was better for him in the long run given that Raph didn't like to think too much about these kinds of things, it made situations much more complicated than they needed to be.

".....Spike, it's a nice name for a pet, can you tell me what he was like?"

Raph asked breaking the ice somewhat. Raphael was quiet again seemingly taken his time before he answered.

"Spike was my best friend, he was my go too whenever I was angry or upset. We did everything together, we were basically family."

Raphael said his voice sounding reminiscent of his pet as he answered Raph. Raph remained quiet waiting for the older turtle to continue should he choose to, getting the gut feeling that pushing him wouldn't end well.

"But after a mutagen incident things......weren't the same anymore. He'd mutated and some stuff happened......but it was a long time ago."

The older turtle finished awkwardly not wanting to give out too much details. The younger turtle gave him a small sympathetic look out of the corner of his eye, before letting it go already getting the hint that the older red turtle didn't want to talk about it too much.

"There, your shell's free of the balloon."

Raphael said simply sitting himself back onto his bed to stretch himself out a bit. Raph stood up to get the blood flowing into his legs again and turned to the other turtle with a small smile.

"Thanks man, you really helped me out there."

Raph said sincere in his gratitude. Raphael awkwardly looked away obviously embarrassed by the thanks and waved him off.

"It's nothing don't mention it."

Raphael said gruff and mumbled as he seemed to shy away from the open gratitude from the younger turtle. Raph stared at his doppelganger for a moment, the atmosphere between them growing awkward somewhat. The snapping turtle rubbed his neck a bit as he tried to figure out what his next move was.

'Should I try to talk to him more? Or should I just leave him be? Ugh but if I leave him alone now I might not get a chance to talk to him again! Come on Raph it's literally you! Surely you can talk to yourself!'

The younger Hamato berated himself. As the poor teen struggled to figure out what to do next the sudden sound of a loud squeak filled his ear. Raph about jumped out of his scaly skin.

"HOLY HELL WHAT-?!"

The snapping turtle said spooked as he was once again greeted with the same squeaking. Raphael's head had snapped around at Raph's exclamation searching for any signs of danger before his light green hues landed on the larger turtle's massive shoulders and caught sight of the thing that was now perched in between one of them and the snapping turtle's spiky shell.

"Chompy-! You little rascal what are you doing?!?"

The older red clad turtle said making the younger one stiffen in confusion and turn his dark green hues in the direction Raphael was staring at. As soon as he did he was met with a small reddish purple turtle, who had snuggled into his shell somewhat. The tiny turtle let out another high pitched squeak and churred up at him. Raph's eyes went wide with shock at seeing the small animal while Raphael had gotten up from the bed and reached up to take Chompy off of Raph's shoulders.

"You can't be doing that stuff! You could have gotten hurt what if you'd fallen off???"

The older Hamato scolded the small turtle who seemed to be completely unbothered by the scolding instead making churring and chirping noises at the short turtle. Raph on the other hand was watching all of this his entire body trembling with massive effort to not completely lose his mind over the tiny creature that had climbed up on him.

"Oh my pizza supreme he's so tiny.........I wanna pet him so badly oh me gosh."

Raph whispered absolutely star struck with the small turtle. Raphael blinked up at the larger turtle having heard him and saw the longing look of a man desperate to pet something adorable. The shorter teen couldn't help but smirk a bit at the display.

Finally he could have something that he could comfortably talk about.

"You can if you want Raph. Chompy loves being petted."

Raphael said smirking a bit more when he was met with the disbelieving look of Raph.

"Can I seriously pet him? And his name is Chompy?? That's so freaking cute oh my God."

The snapping turtle said enthusiastic about the alien turtle.

"Yeah you can pet him, go on."

The older turtle said holding out his beloved pet. Chompy let out a loud and happy squeak at the younger turtle, his small tail wagging a bit in excitement. Raph at that moment was a goner, with a gentle hand he reached out and with a feather like touch began to pet Chompy's head. The little turtle seemed to vibrate in pure happiness as he started to churr loudly making Raph's face break out into a soft smile, his snaggletooth poking out.

"You're the most sweetest thing I've ever met, an absolute sweetheart."

The snapping turtle cooed earning more cheerful and joyful noises from Chompy. Raphael just watched the two of them content to stay quiet and let Raph pet the small pet turtle.

"So how did you get Chompy? And what kind of species is he?"

Raph asked curious about the colorful turtle. Raphael's gaze seemed to brighten up and he started to explain the story of how Chompy came into his care. Raph listened the entire time, petting the alien turtle and hanging onto Raphael's every word. For the first time since he'd spoken to his older alternate self Raphael actually seemed relaxed and approachable, the usually angry aura that he had around him had softened quite a bit. The large snapping turtle could only think of a few moments where he'd seen Raphael's aura relax and it was around his brothers. So seeing him do the same thing that he did with his brothers to him made Raph feel like he accomplished something big.

'It may not be the biggest step in the bonding area but it's definitely a start. Raph's got this in the bag.'

He thought pleased that he and his older counterpart weren't in an awkward atmosphere anymore. Now all that remained was a somewhat more open atmosphere between them and Raph couldn't be more relived and thrilled by it. However like many moments they're bound to come to an end when the sound of someone knocking on Raphael's door interrupted the two red clad turtles.

"Ralph? You in here with your alternate self?"

A voice belonging to Donnie sounded from the other side of the door. Raph felt his smile fade at his little brother's tone of voice, his big brother senses going off.

'Something's wrong.'

"Yeah Donnie we're in here, is everything okay??"

Raph asked serious and quickly growing concerned. Raphael had placed Chompy down onto his bed, his once relaxed aura now tense and serious as he quietly listened to Raph and Donnie.

"Oh good, I don't know to look for you both then. Your presence is needed in the living room, Don and I have something we need to discuss."

Donnie said serious and blunt. Raph felt a sense of dread hit him and he swallowed hard his throat suddenly dry.

"Alright we'll be right out Donnie."

The snapping turtle said earning a hum of confirmation from his soft shell little on the other side of the door. The soft sounds of Donnie's quick footsteps fading away from the door filled the sudden heavy atmosphere. Raph and his shorter counterpart remained silent, their postures a bit tense. It was only a beat before Raphael broke it.

"We should get going, don't want Donnie and.....Donnie to lose their patience."

The red clad turtle said already making his way towards the door. The larger red clad turtle followed close behind him, the two of them knowing only one thing.

When Donnie and Donatello were serious it meant bad news in the long run.

~~~~~

New York City.

It was a city full of life, pulsing with lights and music and people and cars and other noises. It was a city that was loud and packed and it was home to many who loved the city. Amongst those people who resided within this bustling city, a young woman of nineteen was currently making her way towards the alleyways, making sure that she wasn't being followed by anyone. Clutched within her hand was a cellphone in the shape of a turtle shell, the adorable piece of technology now currently pressed against her ear.

"Trouble myself? As if I'll let you guys do this on your own!........I'll be down there soon, don't you dare start without me Dee........of course I will.....see you soon."

The girl said ending the call with a small sigh. Snapping her cellphone closed she placed it within her pocket, making sure that it was tucked safely away. The sounds of her boots hitting the pavement filled the air, as she weaved herself through the crowds of people whenever she'd passed them. After a few minutes of weaving and dodging the crowds of people she'd finally reached her destination. The more decrypted part of the city wasn't exactly the safest place to be in however it was also the type of place where she'd be able to get to where she needed to go so she could get to the people who needed her. It didn't take her long to get to the alleyway and with one last discreet look around and she disappeared into the alleyway. With confidence strides she finally made it to the manhole cover, bending down she grabbed the edge of it and began to pull the heavy weight to move it aside. It took a lot of effort but she managed to do it, once she could fit through the opening she dropped down onto the ladder, using a bit of her powers to help pull the manhole back over the opening so no one would be able to follow her nor would they be able to get hurt.

Climbing down the ladder she finally reached the slimy and wet ground of the sewers. The sounds of her boots hitting the ground sounded throughout the sewers echoing tunnels yet she paid no mind to them instead focusing on getting herself safely to the lair. Steel blue hues glanced around the sewers as she walked, her bright red ponytail swaying with each step as she walked deeper into the sewers. The scent of the sewers made her nose crinkle up slightly but otherwise she ignored it. There had once been a time when she'd been younger that the sewers and their smell had bothered her but after doing this routine for a good few years now she'd grown to get used to it. The girl continued to walk humming softly underneath her breath as she continued on her way, drawing closer and closer to the lair. After about a half hour of walking the somewhat dark tunnels she'd finally heard voices coming up from further ahead. Picking up her pace she quickly made her way to the entranceway of the lair, stepping down the stairs and coming up to the gateway. Immediately upon entering she felt the familiar energies hitting her like a loving embrace. She felt the chaotic and energetic aura of the youngest of her boys, the nervous yet kind aura of the second youngest, the angry and protective aura of the second eldest and finally the calm and soothing aura of the eldest of her boys.

'They're all here and safe.'

She thought relieved before she felt the pangs of sadness that sprinkled their auras, making her instantly concerned.

'Something had upset them recently, really badly kind of upset, gonna have to check into that.'

She thought making a mental note to check up on the boys once they'd all spoken about what was going on. Entering further into the lair she realized that her boys weren't the only ones who were in the lair, but rather there were four more people here. Auras and energies, familiar yet foreign hit her full force making her senses go a bit haywire as they tried to identify who they were. The first new aura was similar to the youngest of the boys, chaotic and energetic but a lot more unrestrained. There was something else there as well, an energy that was buried underneath as if it hadn't been fully awakened yet. The second aura was much more colder than the first one, yet kindness filled it as well. The third one was protective, and somewhat nervous as if it was bubbling somewhat. Like a volcano waiting to erupt slowly. The last one was erratic and soothing, yet there was an under current of unease and being lost that made her heart twist for it. As she tried to familiarize herself with these new energies and auras she barely noticed the presence behind her until a familiar hand on her shoulder made her snap back to the world surrounding her. Blinking her steel blue hues she turned them towards the person who had placed a hand on her shoulder, familiar warm dark blue hues meeting hers. She couldn't help but smile a bit happy to see the person who was one of her closest friends.

"Hey Leo, hope I didn't make you guys wait for too long."

She said her voice soft and warm as she apologized for her tardiness. Leonardo just smiled warmly at her and gave her shoulder a small squeeze.

"We weren't waiting long. Donnie's made sure that the meeting wouldn't start without you. Now come on, let's go introduce you to everyone."

Leonardo said his voice scratchy yet genuine as he let her go and the two began to make their way towards the living room. Voices both familiar and unfamiliar to her greeted her ears as they stepped into the living room. The girl looked around catching sight of her other boys fairly quickly. Raphael was next to Michelangelo the two bickering somewhat as they talked. Donatello was near the center of the pit area a few folders in his arms as he looked through them his tongue peeking out slightly. Among her boys were faces unrecognizable to her. Four other turtles all looking a bit younger than them and wearing slightly brighter shades of the older turtles colors. They were talking to one another and to her boys, their conversations varing topic to topic. She and Leonardo stood there for a moment their presence going unnoticed by the rest. Leonardo took a deep breath, clearing his throat up and before she realized what he was going to do it was already too late.

"Guys! She's here!"

Leonardo said his tone louder than it usually was, his voice cracking harshly from the strain of being raised volume wise. Seven heads turned towards them, the four younger ones looking spooked by the harsh cracking voice of Leonardo while the three older ones looked like they were torn between yelling at their blue clad brother or greeting her. Glaring at him as well she let out a concerned and angry hiss of sorts.

"Leo you can't be doing that kind of stunt!"

She hissed softly as to not be heard by the newer turtles. Leonardo just gave her a look and shrugged it off as they both had a silent conversation.

'When this meeting is over you are so going to pay for pulling a stunt like that, and that's a promise.'

Steely blue eyes said full of a stern look that promised a long lecture later.

'Oh I don't have a doubt that you will. You and my brothers will both see to it.'

Dark blue eyes replied already knowing what was in store afterwards. The two were taken out of their silent stare down by the one turtle in purple who was standing next to Donatello.

"Not to break up the moment but who exactly is this girl?"

He asked his tone holding a somewhat sharp edge to it. Donatello shot the other turtle a look that he ignored and the girl took no offense to it.

"I was about to explain that."

Leonardo said turning his attention to her and began introductions and gesturing to each of the new turtles.

"These are our newest guests. Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey. They're us from a different reality. Guys this is-"

Leonardo said introducing the alternate turtles and went to continue but the girl took over from there, to spare her friend's vocal chords which were still recovering from the stunt from earlier and as a way to be slightly petty to show her displeasure at said stunt.

"April. April O'Neil, it's a pleasure to meet you boys."

April said seeing Leonardo giving her a slightly knowing irritation look to which she responded with a small smirk of her own. The four new turtles eyes went wide with shock.

"APRIL???"

Four voices shouted followed immediately by several questions being thrown at her and the older boys. April let out another sigh rubbing her temples lightly to mentally prepare herself.

'This is going to be a long meeting.'

~~~~~

New York City.

It was a city unlike any other, filled with people and other strange things not of this world. It was a city that was filled with mystery and beings unseen by the world of humanity. A city of bright lights, of spirits and yokai who wander beneath the colorful neon lights of shops and restaurants. And beneath the bustling city laid another city surrounded by mystical power and protection, guarding yokai and mutants alike. Yet upon the surface of New York a young girl was walking through the streets, her dark brown eyes searching for any signs of a familiar figure or shell. Brushing her dark brown curly bangs from her face she pursed her bright red lips as she was met with nothing but the familiar views of New Yorkers who were all going on their own merry ways, completely oblivious to the teen who was desperately searching for a sign. A sign of the people she loved the most. A sign that evaded her for the past few days, dragging her spirits down some.

'What if I never find them? What if something happened to them? Damnit all where did they go??'

She thought frustrated with her lack of results. She was so deep within her thoughts she didn't realize that her beloved pet had crawled from her bag and into her arms, letting out a small bark of sorts to get her attention. The girl snapped out of her thoughts her dark eyes softening as she scratched behind her pet's ears.

"Sorry Mayhem, I just got distracted is all. Let's go somewhere more private so I can check in."

She said her voice soft and gentle as she tried to get herself together. Mayhem let out a yip of agreement and went to hide back in her bag. Once he was safely inside the girl began to somewhat jog to a much less inhabited area of the city, the sounds of her sneakers hitting the pavement as she weaved through the crowds of people. After a bit of jogging she finally found an alleyway and quickly ducked into it, making sure that she wasn't seen. Once from view, her pet Mayhem peeked his head out once more.

"Alright Mayhem let's go check in."

She said earning a churring coo from the dog like creature. Mayhem's collar began to glow and in a flash of yellow light the teen and her pet had disappeared from the alleyway. The once loud and noisy city was now replaced with silence, the walls of the buildings once around her were gone now replaced by lights of all different colors and sizes that decorated the ceiling. The girl once in a dirty alleyway was now within a lair of sorts. The sounds of footsteps coming into the living room filled the lair and a short and stout figure came scampering out into the living his head looking quickly in both directions to catch a glimpse of four turtles. But alas he was only met with the sight of the teenage girl.

"I'm guessing that they haven't shown up in the lair yet?"

She asked hoping to hear some kind of good news, however that hope was snuffed out by the shake of a head and a pained face.

"No.....the boys haven't shown up here. I was hoping that perhaps they'd be coming back with you....."

The figure, a rat said his voice thick and filled with despair, causing his accent to thicken slightly. His whiskers were twitching and his tail flickered around in unease and distress. It broke the girl's heart to see him like this.

"Don't worry, we'll find them. They couldn't have gone far, knowing the boys wherever they are they're going to find a way back to us. We just got to keep looking for them Splints."

The girl said her dark brown eyes filled with resolve to find her boys. The rat, Splints gave her a small look, his old eyes filled with a pain of a father who's sons were missing without a trace. However they were now filled with that same resolve that she had knowing that what she said was true. His boys would find a way home, they always found their way home.

'From places such as Big Mama's arena to many others they've always come back, I just have to keep looking for my sons.'

The thoughts said making him determined to do just that.

"You're right April.....the boys will find their way back home from wherever they are. And if they can't come back on their own....."

Splints said his voice trailing off.

"Then we'll be there to bring them back. We'll bring them home no matter what."

The girl, April said her tone strong in her conviction to find the turtles that she'd known since childhood. The two would continue looking for the boys, no matter how much time it took they'd never give up on them. But even with the resolve within their hearts they couldn't help but fear the worst. After all it was only a few days ago that they'd been in the lair, laughing and joking around and helping both New York and the Mystic City with rogue foot soldiers and mutants and yokai. A few days ago of seeing Leo, Raph, Donnie and Mikey, of seeing them for what would unknowingly the last time. April could still remember what the boys had said to her and Splints before they'd went out on their routine mission that night.

'Don't worry April we'll be fine, we're only going to be gone for an hour, two hours tops. Just a quick scouting mission nothing serious.'

Leo had said giving her a smile.

'We'll be right back before ya know it April, besides Pops will need us later tonight for some training so we won't be gone long.'

Raph had said ever the comforting big brother.

'We've got this in the bag Ape! It'll be easy peasy!'

Mikey had said smiling that sweet gap toothed smile of his.

'You worry too much April, at this rate you'll turn into Papa with all that worrying. But if it makes you and Papa feel better I give you my Donatello Promise that we'll be back safe and sound within the next few hours.'

Donnie had said even promising her. She'd remembered it all and how she'd let them go alone because Donnie had promised her and Splints and Donnie didn't break his promises. Not to their father, not to their big sister. So she'd let them go, heading home that night to do some of her schoolwork that had needed to be done. She was a senior after all, eighteen years old and getting ready to go to college, she had to study and her boys were strong and fearsome ninjas. They'd be fine.

However they never came back home.

One hour became two, two hours became four and then she was getting a phone call from Splints the older rat asking if the boys had stopped by her apartment. That phone call had thrown the two of them into chaos and they'd been searching relentlessly ever since, coming up empty handed with every search. It was as if the boys had just disappeared from the planet. And that alone scared April and Splints more than they ever thought possible.

'Just hang on a little bit longer guys, we'll find you no matter what.'

April thought her fists clinching up a bit. She felt Splints place a hand on hers and gently pull her towards the kitchen.

"Let's go get something to eat so we can keep up our strength."

The older rat said earning a small nod from April. The two made their way into the kitchen, their heads held high in a determined way but their hearts heavy with the aching loss of the four boys who made up their world.

*Holy shit I'm alive what??? Okay so this took me literally days to get this planned out and to get it started up because work and personal life are trying to lowkey kill my ass lol. Anyways I don't know if this is any good but I wanted to try and do my best with these guys and their interactions. Which is why Raph and Raphael's bonding is somewhat awkward because they're both very awkward people let's be real lol. But don't worry they'll definitely warm up to one another. Also surprise you got not one April but two Aprils wooo!! I apologize if they're out of character I tried. Anyways if any y'all read this I hope you enjoyed it!!!*

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“Don’t you ever get tired of the taste?”

The sharp crunch fills the air again, and Steve shivers from it like the sound is coming from inside of him, deep in his bones.

“Don’t you ever get tired of having the palate of a toddler?” Billy asks through a full mouth.

He’s spread out on the too-small sofa, ankles crossed where they’re perched on the armrest. It’s fairly warm out today, which means that he’s wearing a scandalous amount of clothes, and Steve would be delighting in that fact right now were it not for the pungent scent of vinegar.

The brunet simply crosses his arms. Glances over his shoulder towards the kitchen, and hardens a glare at no one at all.

“Do we seriously need to keep all of them? We don’t even have room in the fridge.”

“Aw, Stevie, if you really hate it that much…” Billy coos. Then, crunch. “Open a fuckin’ window.”

The howling laughter that leaves him has Steve biting back on a smile, as much as he hates to admit. He’s half tempted to open a window, but he instead chooses to round the couch and tap Billy’s ankle until he lifts his legs up.

The blond obliges him. Permits Steve to sit so he can splay his legs over his lap.

“Guess I might as well get used to it.”

Billy grins. Cozies further into the couch like a cat settling down to take a nap before he sighs comfortably.

“For a second there I thought you were gonna grab a trash bag and go bananas.”

“No, baby, I’d never throw away your gifts,” Steve reassures. He slouches in his seat and takes to fiddling with the seam of Billy’s tiny shorts. “You just have to promise me to brush your teeth before you come to bed tonight or I might puke.”

There’s a little snicker that makes Steve’s smile widen as he flattens his palm against his lover’s thigh.

For a while, things were hard. Really hard.

Billy couldn’t stomach solid foods, could hardly breathe on his own on a good day. And Steve sat by him the whole way through it. Sat by his bed in the hospital and had faith when Billy didn’t that he would get better.

It was on a particularly bad day, a day where the nurses had tried to incorporate something soft into one of his meals — mashed potatoes. Mashed potatoes that didn’t go down well, or rather, didn’t stay down. All Steve remembers of that day was Billy crying, eyes red and puffy, nose running as he coughed and heaved, whining about how am I ever gonna eat pickles again if I can’t even eat this.

And Steve had pet his hair and helped him sip some room temperature water, even though he was a little confused.

As far as he knew, Billy didn’t even like pickles. Or, at the very least, didn’t care all that much for them. Not enough to tolerate them on a burger, and certainly not enough to cry about not being able to eat them.

Still, here they are, nearly a year later. With about seven full-sized jars of pickles on their counter, all with ribbons and balloons and get well soon cards fastened to them in some shape or form. Some from family. Most from friends. A few from strangers.

Steve recalls reading a card that was signed by all the guys down at the fire station, regarding Billy as a hero in their ranks.

If only they knew.

“Might get sick of pickles,” Billy sighs.

He holds a spear in his hand, eyeing it like he isn’t sure if he should because it’ll be his fifth in a row, and his stomach is still tragically sensitive. This jar in particular is from Max. Has a red ribbon tied around the rim of the jar and dozens of dollar store skateboard stickers plastered all over it.

That seems enough to justify the next crunch that fills the air.

Steve pats his lover’s thigh and shakes his head when the juice drips on the front of his shirt, thankful that he’s getting better.

Even if it means being surrounded by pickles.

“Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

[ato-catto]

Just a little (attempting to be) canon insert of a character, so Piccolo can have someone to look after him for once :,) [ he deserves it] The air was cool, and sharp, as it rushed through the canyons. The serene water pool in the center of the rock formations rippled with the air, all heard and noticed by the figure, sitting on a slab just metres from the waters edge. The alien, a Namekian, took a calming breath before he straightened his spine, and stood. His peaceful afternoon was about due to be over, so he made his way into his small house.

His home was not your usual square, brick, and concrete house. It was rounded, carved from light coloured stone, with an arched entrance. The interior only held two rooms, a chair, a small refridgerator, and a very uncomfortable looking bed. It was incredibly simple looking, but it was enough for the being, who rarely slept or rested, and never ate. Snatching a cold water canister from the refridgerator, he popped open the lid and downed almost the whole palm sized container in one gulp. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and took in a breath of oxygen. The silence was peaceful, and calming to the soul, giving it space to wisen and grow. That was, until his keen ears picked up on unfamiliar footsteps moving across the grass plane. His brow creased as he focused on the sound, and the energy of the human, to determine wether or not it was a threat. It decidedly was not, and held next to no power level.

The footsteps were followed by a gentle knock on the outside of the homes entrance, which had no front door, as it wasnt customary for Namekians to have enclosed homes, It was better to let in all light and air, as it was more healthy.

The being moved to the door, stooping slightly under the short door frame, so the tips of his ears would not graze against the stone arch. His sharp eyes were drawn towards a small figure as his pupils adjusted to the light.

It was a small woman, maybe around 5'3, with dusky pink hair, and green eyes. She was carrying a plastic bucket full of bottles that had purple liquid inside of them.

"Hello! Im Pom." The woman chimed, her voice gentle. "I just moved in up the mountain, and I though I would be polite and drop a gift by." She held up the basket. "The cookies got burnt, so I thought I would bring an offering of the many Grape Water beverages I have acquired from my Uncle. He works for the company," She added, feeling a little silly. For a moment he was silent, making her afraid that she perhaps had said too much.

The tall green man gave her a look over, then moved his gaze to the purple hued water with vague interest.

"Thanks." He finally said, his voice gruff.

He moved aside so she was able to bring the basket indoors. She noticed his house was barren, and there wasnt even a counter to place it on, so instead, she began placing the bottles one by one in the refridgerator, which was strangely devoid of food. Pom frowned, and turned to shut the fridge door, before finding herself face to face- well, face to chest, as he was much much taller than she was- with the clearly not human man.

He was wary of giving her his name, due to his 'others' slightly unpleasant past, but this woman seemed young enough to perhaps not recall the doings of the Evil King Piccolo. She seemed nearly unphased by his oddly coloured skin, or taller than average appearance.

"Sorry," She hummed, looking his strange appearance up and down as politely as one could. "I didnt get your name."

The mans arms were still crossed, giving way to a display of his biceps. He considered her request for a moment, unaware that his unwaivering gaze was unsettling her, just slightly. He realised the worst outcome would be the woman screaming and running away, but that he was used to.

"Piccolo." he said, his tone flat. "Pom, right?"

She nodded, a smile making its way back to her face. "Pom, like Pomegranite."

Piccolo didnt even know what a Pomegranite was. He assumed it was a type of fruit, or maybe even a stone, or granite. It was an alright sounding name.

he mustered a small smile, and looked down at the small woman.

'Thank you for the.. uh-" He started.

"Grape flavoured water. I did have cookies, but I burnt them." She admitted for the second time, rather sheepishly. It made his smirk widen, even if it was just a little.

"Ill get out of your hair now." She made her way towards the door, a self satisfied smile on her face. "I hope I make a good sort-of neighbour." Making her way towards the path, across the grass, she turned to wave.

Piccolo, whos arms were crossed, raised some fingers over his arm in response. He continued towatch her walk away, even when she turned the corner behind the hillside.

'What a nice lady.' He thought to himself, turning back into the cool shade of his home.

Poms legs ached from the steep incline to her home, and she began to regret not using her savings on a car, instead of nice furniture for her new house. Once she was inside, and the door was closed, she sat down to contemplate her encounter with her new neighbour. He was incredibly tall, far over 6 feet, atleast. And green, too! The green skin didnt really surprise her too much. The earth had seen some surprising figures in the last few years, and one diplomat was even a man-dog a few years back. The idea that an alien was living amongst them was even quite comforting. Perhaps it meant they would defend the earth if invaded by a hostile species. She settled into bed that night, planning on bringing Piccolo a small potted plant for his oddly barren home, and then perhaos make a friend so she wasnt so alone. She had moved from a big city, and it was oddly lonely out here in the middle of nowhere, despite that being the reason she left the city. There were too many people, and it was far too crowded for her liking. As she settled to sleep, she considered the many potted plants she had, and which one would suit Piccolos little house.

By morning, Pom had woken and picked a suitable plant, repotted it into a little white ceramic pot, to match his home. by the early afternoon, she was making her way towards the little house, and was surprised by a deep voice behind her.

"Nice plant. Where are you taking it?"

Pom jumped out of her skin, almost dropping the pot. She turned to see Piccolo towering abover her. He had been meditating out by the pool again, and had sensed her energy approaching before she even turned the corner.

SHe clutched her chest. "Goodness! You scared me!" She laughed, relieved that it was only him and not a dinosaur or bandit.

"Sorry." He folded his arms, and looked at the plants in her arms pointedly.

"Oh! This is for you." She said, holding it out to him. Piccolo looked down at it before unfolding his arms, and touching a leaf, then taking it into his hand. The pot fit easily in his palm, despite Pom having to carry it with two hands. He wondered why she was being so polite to him. He looked from the plant to her, seeing her smile. It made his mouth quirk into a half unwilling smile.

"Uhh... Thanks."

They began the slow walk to his door, Pom insistent on seeing him home, as it was the polite thing to do.

" I would have brought you some newly cooked bread, but i burnt that aswell, this morning." She sighed.

"Youre not a great cook, are you." He observed, still looking ahead. She gazed up at him, her face crest fallen.

"Im trying my best, but no matter what I do it all seems to go wrong."

Piccolo hummed, casting a sideways glance to the small figure beside him. "I dont eat food anyway, so its fine."

Pom went wide eyed. She was accustomed to strange alien customs, but not eating?

"How do you survive without food?" She asked, wide eyed and slightly worried for his wellbeing.

"Namekians only need to drink water." He said, matter-of-factly. Pom decided then that she would do more research on his kind when she got back home, and that she did.

That evening she researched the Namekian race. There was not much to be found about them, but a short document written by some obscure scholar from the city..

'Namekians do not consume food, they only need water to nurture their well built physiques, similar to that of a plant. Namek, also, has no known females, as they produce Asexually, forming a child and egg within their stomach, and vomiting it up. They can also regrow severed limbs at will, like a starfish....'

Pom squinted at her screen in disbelief. She wasnt quite horrified, more intrigued, and perhaps a little bit nausiated. She decided to ask if these were just the horrific musings of a scholar, or the truth. Packing her laptop into her satchel, she set out for Piccolos little home, before pausing at her front door.

There was a chance he wouldnt want to be disturbed for the third day in a row, so she decided to wait a few days.

Piccolo spent a few days, keeping an ear out for her arrival. He found he quite enjoyed her afternoon vists. It gave him a nice reprise from the usual, small child that he babysat for his friend every afternoon. Adult company was something he didnt know that he craved. He had to contain his happiness when she next made her way to his, welcoming her with a half smile. Due to his lack of furniture, she brought a pillow to sit on, but Piccolo insisted that she sit on his chair, and she stood beside her as she showed him the article.

Piccolo chuckled gently. It was all correct information, but he was also well aquainted with the individual who had written and published it.

"Its all correct." He grunted. "Probably because the scholar who wrote it had first hand evidence." He thought back to his friend, Gohan, and when he had visited his home planet, Namek.

"Oh? You know the person who wrote this?" Pom asked, scrolling back up to the credited author.

"Yeah. Gohan. ive known him since he was a kid,"

Pom chewed her lip in thought, wondering how old Piccolo was to have watched a fully credited scholar grow from childhood, but anymore personal questions would just be rude.

"Well how fortunate that a scholar got to grow up with someone so pleasent." She smiled, turning her head to look up at him. He looked down at her and softly exhaled through his nose.

"I guess so." He crossed his arms. He didnt veiw himself as pleasent. Neutral, perhaps, but he didnt make an effort to be all that nice to anyone. He didnt need to.

Pom closed her laptop and stood to leave, only to feel a large hand on her shoulder.

He was looking straight ahead, but he addressed her almost gently, or as gentle as one could be with his rough voice. " It looks like its going to rain. You should stay for tea."

Poms heart was warmed by the suggestion, until she realised he didnt mean food, but actual liquid tea. She was a little hungry, but upon gazing outside, where the sky had started to darken with water laden clouds, she realised his suggestion was probably the most practical.

"Thankyou, that is so sweet," She beamed up at him.

The Namekian, a man used to the company of only males, his culture being devoid of females or romantic relationships, was almost startled when a pink tinted heat rose to his cheeks. He cleared his throat and glanced away, unable to decipher his bodeis reaction to seeing her smiling face. "Yeah, well, dont get too comfortable." He grumbled, almost 1regretting his invitation. Opening his refridgerator, he pulled out a flask of Iced Tea, gifted to him by his friends wife, Videl, last time he had arrived to pick up their daughter, Pan, so her parents could have a night to themselves. He poured it delicately into two simple glass cups, passing one to Pom as he passed, leaning against the door frame as rain began to pouroutside. He gripped his cup and watched the grass ripple with the incoming storms wind. Days like this he wished he had a door. They didnt get storms on Namek... Maybe he would invest in a door.

Pom joined him at the doorway, tucking her hair behind her ear and sipping the cool tea from the cup.

"You have such a nice veiw." She hummed, leaning her hip against the doorway. Piccolos usual frown deepened.

"Yeah, I guess so. I prefer it out here. Its.. Quiet."

"Ah! A fellow appreciater of living in peace. I cant stand the big city. The noise drives me insane." She clutched her now empty cup to her chest and let out a sigh.

Piccolo scowled at the sky as thunder cracked across the clouds, illuminating the canyon with a shock of white light. Pom jumped slightly, her hand going to grip the nearest grabbable thing- which happened to be the side of Piccolos Gi. He didnt dare look down, his eyes just went wide as the small woman edged towards him in fear. "Sorry!" She let go of his clothing, but didnt back away. "Thunder storms always scare the jeebies out of me."

Suddenly, Piccolo felt oddly protective of the small woman. Her softness reminded him somewhat of Pan, a child that had his heart in a vice like grip. He folded his arms and stood steadfast, allowing Pom to move into his shadow, and to relative safety.

"Maybe you should hed back inside." he murmered over his shoulder, glancing down at Pom with a narrowed eye. She agreed quietly and backed away into the main room, and settked back onto the big stone chair. The air surrounding her had become cool, chilling her skin, giving her little goosebumps across her arms. Piccolo gave the thunderous clouds a last, grim look, before following in Poms footsteps back into the safety of his living room. His eyes adjusted, and moved to the little figure curled up with her knees to her chest on his chair. She looked cold. Without thinking too much, he slid the white cape from his shoulders and draped it over her, not looking twice before he moved past to grab a Capsule Corp Halogen Heater, and plave it in the middle of the room, and switched it to middle heat, the orange glow illuminating Poms small form. Piccolo took a seat, levatating in the shadows across from her behind the heater. He watched her as the thunder rolled and echoed across the cavern, watching her eyes as she flicked through her phone. Her eyes, he noticed, were the same shade as what he could remember of Namekian evening skies. His frown settled lower, and he glanced away. Human women were not supposed to be appealing to a Namekian, so he questioned himself for even looking. It was not long, though, before his eyes found themselves back on her form. He hadnt even noticed until now that she was wearing a one peice outfit, with shorts rather than full length pants. He never understood the appeal of having bare legs. Piccolo had often seen Bulma in skimpy outfits and never understood the aesthetic of baring skin to the public for no feesable reason.. Until that moment, seeing her soft skin alight by the orange glow of the heater, making her look like a gentle pink sunset on a clear day. The adams apple in his throat bobbed as he swallowed a rising tension he didnt quite understand, before glancing away once again, this time opting to give the floor a hard death glare. He was wholly convinced there was something very wrong with him.

Pom could feel his eyes on her, but she herself was too shy to look up from her static phone screen. Piccolo intimidated her enough to make her uneasy, but not unsafe. His height and strength were enough to both feel respect and a little well meaning fear for him, and if not a little astounded by his quiet and stoic demeanor. Piccolo also flustered her in small ways, by his kind actions and his deep voice, and his blunt behaviour, enough to make a little rosie hue creep into her cheeks, to match her hair. Chewing her lip, she scrolled through a picture reel of birds she had taken the summer prior, trying to keep her mind busy from the sudden claps and flashes of the roaring storm. Piccolo closed his eyes and softly sighed, allowing the humid energy from the storm to flood his senses with a brialliant warmth. A man in pure control of his spiritual energy did not need a heater, despite being gifted one. He could heat his body with his own energy or the energy of things around him, with next to no effort.

Between the silence, Pom acquired the courage to speak up, asking Piccolo a gentle but conversation sparking question.

"Did you grow up on earth, or on Namek?"

Piccolo, in the shadows, tightened his holded arms around him, and let out a breath. "It's complicated." His eyes flicked up to her, meeting her eyes from across the room.

Pom nodded slowly. "Give me the summarised version."

Piccolo almost scoffed. There was no summary of how he became what he was, how he grew up. Not a version she would even begin to understand, but he would try anyway.. "I was another person before me, and another before that. Who I am now came from an egg, 24 years ago."

She didnt understan, as predicted, but now she had his age. "So youre 24 years old?"

He grunted softly. "I suppose.. How old are you?" He had never thought of asking. He supposed this is what most people attempting to make friends do.

"Im 21." She chimed, almost sounding proud of her age.

Piccolo, used to people her age, thanks to Gohan, nodded serenly.

"You are mature for someone your age." He had seen girls in the mall, the few times he had been dragged out with the others. They were friviolous and loud, and spent daddies money, with no thought of making effort towards making their own, and Piccolo absolutely hated them. But Pom seemed different. She was calm and collected, confident within herself, enough to frequently turn up at a green aliens door with house warming gifts, and she was independant enough to already own her own home, which he assumed meant she must have had a steady job at some point. Perhaps he would ask her about that some time, as a conversation starter.

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

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

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

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 20,141

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

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

You cracked your eyes open.

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

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

Wait.

CUM?!

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

Think, y/n, think!

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

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

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

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

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

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

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

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

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

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

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

“Come on, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is where you were now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was on this day that it clicked.

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

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

Disgusting.

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

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

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

So, we look back to where we started.

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

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

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

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was all unimportant and already said.

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

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

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

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

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

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

[imeternallylove]

If you are still doing request could I get 68. “Shave your beard or I won't give you any kiss.” From your prompt list with Gibbs please!!

Gibbs x Reader

genre: slight angst and fluff

words: 575 words

prompts: #68 - “Shave your beard or I won't give you any kiss.”

(gif not mine)

* 　　　 ˚          . 　˚  　　　 ⋆ . · 　　 +   　　     ˚

You didn't expect to see Gibbs here. You deadpanned as took at his disheveled appearance; the beard, his hair, and his reddish face were all things you disliked, and you used to be the one who took care, before.

Gibbs too, that cocked an eagle. His gaze traced down your body from head to toe, eventually resting on one of your brow wounds. "How?'

You despised the way his voice sounded concerned. How could he? "Like I'd like to talk to you?"

"I don't care." His candor frightened you, and you loathed him for it. After all this time, he showed up and walked away. After he returned to help Ziva and left his sawdust alone with you. Anger boiled over, and he could see it in your eyes.

You hated being the first to avert that gaze, so much. "You'd better leave."

Even so, he's no shame. "Seems ya busy- Your line always busy. -or just for me," his steps get closer.

"Well. How does it feel? Something you never did."

You left him with a ton of hanging between the two of you. And Gibbs finally looked uneasy under your irony. "Gotcha minute?"

These ice-foxy eyes had turned into puppies, which only made you smirk in disbelief. Regardless of how you felt about what he does, you had a smile on your lips. It vanished as quickly as it arrived.

Gibbs should have realized he messed up big time earlier. He only didn't say goodbye because he didn't know-how. You've never asked about anything, not even the name of your two relationships. You far better be stuck with him. So how are you going to come with him while you've been damn unfair enough?

You were at the fridge when he appeared in the kitchen archway. Pulling two packs of lasagna from the small rack, you closed the door with your elbow. "Oh? You remember your belongings?" You nodded across the room as you grabbed a plate from the dish draining board. "On your left."

Gibbs chuckle followed orders. When he opened the cupboard door above his head, his brow rose. He reached in and pulled out the nearly empty bottle. "Maker's Mark," his thumb over the tag as the memory of you and him flashed in his eyes. You used to tell he's drinking it way too much. "Hoping ya won't take my sip away this time."

"Huh," you supply remembered his memory was probably still slowly coming back. Your back was against the fridge door. "Watch out, its seem wants to hurl someone's head," you can imagine his injury and trauma were tough to recover from. How did he recall everything bout you two so well?

Gibbs walks and stops in front of you, "Can y'give me a kiss?"

You're choking on his cocky words. "How dare-" Though, too late; his lips have covered your mouth, swallowing all of your long-needed craving and eagerness.

You couldn't help but slide your fingers up his chest and tug on his neck, drawing him in closer. And when you finally sense his mustache obstructing you both, your eyes swing open and rashy push him away.

"What?" Gibbs' pitched voice and his scowl gaze went you giggle. Gesture to the bathroom, "go clean your Mexico's thing." As his head tilted with confusion, you shook your head, squint down to his upper lips. “Shave your beard or I won’t give you any kiss,” then you leave him there.

* 　　　 ˚          . 　˚  　　　 ⋆ . · 　　 +   　　    

[yunopouts]

1,2,3 - n. jaemin

-> pairing: sadist(kinda)!jaemin x fem reader

-> genre: filth smut

-> warnings: spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex (kinda? not really tho), oral (f receiving), biting, fingering, handjob, overstimulation, squirting, creampie

-> word count: 2.1k

this is some weird shit. prepare yourselves.

The ending is where the actual filth starts (literally for like 2.3 seconds tho)

I am so sorry.

After laying in bed for literally five hours, you decided to get up and walk around your apartment. Your boyfriend was at work and you couldn’t go out because you’re living during a fucking pandemic (w/n: YES MAKE THAT SHIT REALISTIC😩), so you were stuck at home. All by yourself, with nothing to do.

You walked yourself to the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbed out the juice.

“I can just drink from the carton.” You thought out loud. “No, that's kinda gross, I can’t do that.” You shook your head and just grabbed a glass from the cabinet. Thinking of what you should do, you wandered around, sipping your juice from time to time. “I don’t want to watch tv, cause I just finished doing that. Jesus Christ, this shouldn’t be that hard to do.” You whined, stamping your feet like a child throwing a tantrum to get what they want.

Heaving a sigh, you continued moping around.

“Screw this, I’m just gonna shower.” You chugged your juice and set the glass in the sink before heading to the bathroom.

-

When you walked out of the bathroom all clean, you headed to the living room- where you were unexpectedly met by your boyfriend, Jaemin, who was sitting on the couch. You stopped in the entry way, making eye contact with him and smiled when he called you over.

“How's my pretty girl doing?” he asked, looking up at you with a lazy smile. His hands traveled from your waist, around to your ass and down to the back of your thighs, sliding up and down.

“Fine, bored.” You replied with a sigh. “You okay?” you ran your fingers through his hair. Jaemin leaned forward, pressing his lips just above the waistband of your pants.

“So perfect.” He purred in response, kissing you again, slowly moving further and further down your waist. His eyes connected with yours, glassy, dark and filled with lust. From your thighs, Jaemin’s hands went up and started to tug down your pants, helping him by shimmying out of them.

Standing up, Jaemin brought you into a kiss, one that was slow yet needy at the same time. You gasped when you felt a burning sensation against your ass. Jaemin smirked against your lips, doing it again, making you moan this time.

Arms wrapping around your waist, you lead your boyfriend backwards, slow enough to get there without tripping on anything. As you kissed, Jaemin kneaded your ass, groaned into you and pressed you against his groin, where you felt his erection.

You reached your bedroom, and your boyfriend pushed you down, your back hitting the soft mattress. Practically ripping off your panties, Jaemin spread your knees apart, licking a stripe up your pussy. “My pretty girl has such a pretty pussy that’s so so wet for me.” He said, spreading apart your lips. The boy stared in awe at your glistening heat. “It never seizes to fascinate me at how fast you get so wet for me.”

Without warning, he shoved two fingers into your hole, savagely ramming them into you. Nothing left your mouth; nothing could leave your mouth, not even a croak. He hadn’t even actually started to fuck you; it was just with his fingers and your voice was caught in your throat.

“What?” Jaemin stopped. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” you couldn’t respond as you were still trying to catch your breath.

“S-sorry, just feels good.” You managed to choke out, finally getting air back into your lungs. With a satisfied smirk, he re-inserted his fingers, but thrust at a painfully slow speed. “Jaemin, faster.” You whined.

“Ah, ah, ah~ don’t get greedy, pretty girl.” He continued with his pace, curling his fingers up from time to time. “You know how much I hate greedy people.” The boy leaned forward, placing the flat of his tongue against your clit. He moved the muscle quickly, making you cry out in pleasure. Your hands flew to his hair, pulling and running your fingers through it. “You know,” he spoke between licks. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.” Jaemin attached his lips to your clit and sucked before letting go of it with a ‘pop’.

“In the studio, when we were recording ‘Make A Wish’;” the thrusts of his fingers slowly increased. “When we were in the practice rooms.” He used his tongue again, swirling it around to lap up all your arousal.

“That’s… sweet.” You choked back on a moan but failed miserably.

The sweet noises you were eliciting from your clit being flicked and abused was enough to get your boyfriend grinding against the bed.

“Oh fuck.” You moved you’re hips to the feeling, needing more, to which he pulled out.

Jaemin left from your core and was now hovering above you. When you met his eyes, forcing you to witness him sucking his fingers that were practically dripping with your wetness. That action alone was enough to make you shake as your first orgasm washed over you.

Jaemin watched this happen, moaning in pleasure and delight; the fact that you came from a simple glace at him turned him on a lot..

“I got so hard that Taeyong sent me home early.” He stated. Jaemin licked his lip before almost closing all the space you had between your faces.

Almost, is the key word.

He stayed hovering, lips three centimeters away from your own. You tried to kiss him, but that made your boyfriend move backwards. When you pouted, he moved back to the same spot, smirking. “Turn around for me, beautiful.”

His tone was deep and full of mischief. It got you kind of worried, but you complied, slowly shifting your body so that your back was to him. Jaemin pressed against your back, making you feel his erection against your ass, as he brought his lips to your shoulder and kissed it lightly.

Suddenly, you felt something sharp in the same place where he kissed you and you hissed, pushing against him. He let out a throaty moan in your ear, more arousal dripping from your heat. He licked, kissed, sucked and bit his way down, littering your back with all sorts of shaped markings. When he reached the small of your back, he stopped.

He pulled away before he started to knead your ass. “You look so good from behind.” You could practically hear the smirk in his cocky tone. “I want to fuck you so bad.”

“Then do it.” You said.

“Patience, pretty girl.” He instructed, going silent for a second, before sending down the palm of his hand against your ass. You yelped in pain, shoving your face into the pillows of your shared bed.

“That’s one.” He grunt before smacking you again. “Two; three;” he continued until he reached ten, your ass stinging. “All done.” He sighed as he brought you back up, gently turning you around so that he could see your tear stained face. “Sorry, pretty girl.” He kissed your closed eyelids.

You shook your head slightly, “It felt good.”

“I’m glad.” He smiled against your forehead. Jaemin brought his pants down, revealing his clothed cock. “Help me out with this one, will you?” the boy asked you once he noticed you were staring down at the darkened spot on his underwear.

Your hand found its way into his boxers, grabbing his dick. Connecting his lips with yours, Jaemin mewled at the feeling of both your lips and your hand on him. Your thumb gently touched the tip, spreading around the precum. Your wrist worked in circular motions, sliding up and down his shaft, making the boy a moaning mess. He bucked his hips in time with your actions, letting out a shaky sigh against you.

“Shit.” Jaemin parted from your lips so he could throw his head back in pleasure. “Fuck, I’m so close.” He whined.

Three more strokes and the deed was done; Jaemin’s cock was twitching in your hand as you let him ride out his orgasm.

“You’re still hard.” You stated, staring at his dick, that was still very hard.

“Didn’t I explicitly tell you how fucking horny I was today?” he glanced at you with a raised brow.

“Oh, right.” You recalled. “Get on with it then.” Jaemin let out a laugh, kissing you once again before moving back on top of you.

Just like he did before with his fingers, Jaemin pushed into you with out warning, leaving you breathless once again. He thrust in and out of you slowly, thoroughly enjoying your pleads to go faster.

“You’re such a good girl.” He growled, placing a finger on your clit, rubbing harsh circles as he pumped in and out of you at a pace that satisfied you. A hand slid up your torso, finding its place around one of your breasts. He squeezed it a bit and played with the nipple, rolling it in between two fingers. “God, I love you.”

Jaemins cock felt so good. It filled all the space available in your pussy and your walls always clenched around him, whether you meant to do it or not.

The boy let go of your tit and pulled your hips impossibly closer to his, leaning in, fucking you faster and deeper than before. He pushed your waist down, squeezing so hard that you were sure to have marks from his nails later. Lowering your eyes ever so slightly, you watched how your boyfriends’ eyes were trained on what was poking out every so often when he plowed back into you. The tips of your fingers traced the area in which he was looking at so intently, making him moan loudly.

“Do you like it when I fuck you hard like this.” He asked, finally connecting your eyes again. “Fuck, I can see where my dick hits you.” You bit your lip and nodded, grabbing at his arm and giving it a light squeeze, letting him know that you were close.

“Do it.” He huffed. “Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”

Jaemin fucked you through your second orgasm, but continued to rail you, like nothing had happened.

“No more.” You whined in protest, clawing at his back as he adjusted his position.

“Haven’t cum.” He remarked.

Twelve minutes more and Jaemin was still at it, fucking you nice and hard.

After a while, the pain and pleasure of cumming for a third time had finally come to an end when his snapping hips had come to a sputtering stop, allowing himself to release inside you. Jaemin bit into your nape as he came, your fingers slowly drawing small patterns on his back. He pulled out, somehow still hard, but at least not fully.

When he rolled off top of you, he brought you into his legs, spreading them open and keeping them that way, using his own legs. Traveling to your cum filled hole, his fingers entered you, slowly pumping in and out. His left hand found itself at your clit, adding more stimulation to your already overstimulated heat.

“Fuck, Jaemin.” You yelped, writhing in his arms.

“We both know what you want, pretty girl.” He spoke in a condescending tone. “So be quiet for me until I give it to you.” He nipped at your earlobe. You complied, moaning instead of a worded answer. “That’s my girl.” You felt him smirk against the skin of your neck.

The motions his fingers were making on your clit soon became bigger and stronger; the fingers in your hole sometimes pulling out to smear his cum on the rest of your pussy, re-inserting themselves afterwards.

The wetness of your pussy and his cum mixing together made the filthiest of noises, but to Jaemin, your moans were all he could hear, sending him into orbit, causing his fingers to move quicker and quicker.

You tried inhaling, but barely any air actually made it into your lungs.

“J-Jae-” you gasped. In your ear was a deep chuckle, meaning Jaemin probably came back to earth when he heard the heavenly noises coming from your pussy.

“Fuck, scream my fucking name.” hands working at the speed of light as you came.

And this time you came hard.

Harder than you have before.

So hard that you squirt, juices leaking everywhere on your sheets.

As you screamed, like Jaemin said, his voice raised too, laughing out in amazement.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” Was all you heard him say before passing out.

[simply-wins-little-sis]

The Conference of Hidden Genius

Request:  I had an idea for a Winchester sister thing where the brothers go to a parent/teacher night expecting to hear you are average &keep your head down but your teacher goes on about your good grades and societies you're in (arts/sports/science/whatever) and how you won a funded place at a summer school at a (random) college and will they reconsider letting you go. They ask you about why you don't talk about school and you didn't think they'd care as its not hunting and that's all they care about xx

Tags: @winchesters-favorite-girl​ @percussiongirl2017  @the-third-winchester-warrior  @hellhoundlover @emmazach @sisterwinchesterwriter  @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @staticweekes @hi-my-name-is-riley @a-paranoid-bastard @because-you-never-know-when @enchantingempathhumanoidturtle @alexwinchester23 @winchesterhound

A/N: Not sure if this will be one imagine for awhile or if this means I’ll be back regularly. Love you all xx Also this is a tad different if you want it rewritten lemme know!

An average Tuesday night. That’s all it was to any normal family attending the local high school’s parent night. Each time slot filled with the expectation of a progress report and comments on student behavior. It was the average American system of pining parents and children against teachers, or sometimes the other way around. 

You had been nervous all week, walking on thin ice around your brothers, forgetting to remind them. That’s why when they both knocked on your door and told you they were going to go you shot up like a rocket. 

“No guys, it’s really okay!” you protested, without doing much to make it seem suspicious. 

“Nah babygirl, Dad would miss this stuff for us and we’d miss out on some decent extra credit, plus I heard they’re supposed to have a dessert spread” Dean smirked as he left the room. 

“It’ll be good to know where you stand amongst your classmates Y/N” Sam gave a small smile and followed him. You groaned, throwing a pillow over your head. Falling out of the pillowcase was the brochure to an expensive summer program, one you’d secretly prayed to Castiel on, even though he was nowhere to be found.

When the boys arrived at the school they were shocked to find they were the last guardians to be scheduled. It seemed as though they were thrown on last minute, almost as if your marks had been forgotten. 

Dean was disappointed to find that the dessert spread had been long demolished. 

Entering your homeroom a cheery red head with matching lipstick greeted them. 

“Oh I had no idea Y/N had two fathers! How lovely!”

The boys choked, holding back vile, “Actually we’re her older brothers,” Sam greeted, “But lovely to meet you.” 

“Lovely indeed,” Dean winked. 

With a grin she took the boys to her desk, sitting on the other side. 

“Well, to be honest I don’t really know why you two are here.” She began. 

Both boys cocked their heads to the side. 

“Y/N is a great student, so smart and kind. Quite the little leader. She has perfect scores in all of her classes and is honestly on track to becoming top student,”

The boys looked to each other. 

“Are you sure you’re talking about the right Y/N?” Dean asked. 

“Y/N Winchester, you know, quiet, keeps to herself,” Sam started. 

“Isn’t really good at turning things in on time, often sleeps in class?” Dean recalled his own experience being a hunter in training while doubling as an adolescent student. 

“I fear as though you aren’t hearing what I am saying. Your little sister is really great. One of the best actually. Always turns everything in on time, never sleeps in class, and is charming and kind to everyone she meets or works with. She’s quite the class discussion starter too. In fact, she’s been offered a full scholarship to the Eastern Scholars Summer Program. I know how you both feel she shouldn’t go, but I have to say, you have a bright young person on your hands and not letting her go is the biggest mistake I’ve ever seen guardians make.” 

The two looked at each other again. “The what now?”

“Y/N said you two won’t let her go. But I’m begging you, the girl we have here is different then the one you’re describing, and if you just give her the chance she’ll prove you wrong. I promise.”

When the boys got home you were in the library, reading. 

“Y/N” Dean called. 

“In here!” You yelled back. 

“Why wouldn’t you tell us about the Summer program?” Sam asked. He leaned against the doorframe as Dean leaned on a bookcase. 

You pushed your hair back from your face. “It’s really not that important. It’d just get in the way.”

“Y/N according to your grades you’re smarter then Sam. And Sam is Sam.”

Sam rolled his eyes, “What he’s trying to say is that you’re not telling us about how good you’re actually doing in school. Not to mention you have the opportunity for something really-” he started. 

“No stop,” you interupt him, “This is exactly why I didn’t want to tell you. You guys expect me to be one thing. To live this life or get out completely and to be honest I don’t know what I want. I won’t lose you for a picket fence future, but I also don’t know if I can keep looking death in the eyes, literally.

“The summer program would be the first time I’ve ever gone away. Alone. I don’t know if I’m smart enough let alone ready to face that without you guys. “

They both looked at you. “Well at least talk to us next time, don’t just keep us in the dark, okay?” Sam asked. 

You nodded. 

“I think you should go though,” Dean whispered. 

You looked at him, tears spilling over your bottom eyelids. 

“Okay.”

“But this report card is going on the fridge regardless of what you say,” Sam laughed. 

“The teacher’s phone number on that?” Dean asks. 

“DEAN!” both you and Sam chirp.