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valhallaas · 2 years

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How Sweet It Is (to be loved by you)

Pairing: Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x fem!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT (18+, minors dni) oral (female receiving)

Summary: Bradley teaches you a lesson about patience

A/N: i’m back. i don’t know what this is, but i kind of like it lol feedback is appeciated, and as always, enjoy!

It’s your idea to invite everyone over. To set out finger food, soda and beer. Even the liquor cabinet is unlocked. Maybe that’s what’s gotten into you. You’ve downed three cranberry vodkas already and the night is still young. Bob and Natasha are setting up the karaoke machine in the living room. With this much liquid courage running through your veins, there is no doubt that you’ll be the star of the show. You sway to the music in the kitchen, no one notices your absence. You were the resident lightweight, one of Bradley’s favorite things about you. It makes you fun, you’re always so serious, mama. Sometimes you need to let loose. Your gaze drifts over to the said man occupying your mind. He’s sitting at the dining room table with the others playing a game of poker. From what you can tell, Jake is wiping the table. It isn’t your game–terrible poker face, but you could always call someone else’s bluff.

Tilting your head, you stare at him. Bradley, Rooster. The only person you allow to call you uptight. Because, well, maybe you are. Maybe he needs to fuck it out of you. You don’t know how long you’ve been staring, but it’s long enough for him to feel it. His eyes snap up to yours, an easy going smile taking up his face. You do your best to smile back, lifting your glass to your lips and downing the rest of it. Bradley’s eyebrows raise at the action, a knowing look passing his eyes. Shit. Shit. You’ve been found out. If you’re good at calling people’s bluffs, Bradley is good at calling yours. He doesn’t have to look so cocky about it, though. You huff, biting your lip as your husband pushes back his chair and makes his way to you. The guys shout in protest, but you both ignore them, too caught up in each other.

You watch as he rounds the counter, arms snaking around you, caging you in. Melting into his embrace you rest your head on his chest. Sea salt and bergamot. A soft whine escapes you when he kisses the top of your head, his cinnamon flavored breath fanning over you. Tilting your head back up, you don’t make it to his amused gaze. Sighing, your hands run up his arms, rubbing at his shoulders, scratching up the back of his neck. One hand trails back down, index finger catching the chain hidden under his shirt. You thumb at the dog tags, the imprint of his name against your skin. It’s the silver band that has your attention. It used to bother you that he never wore it on his ring finger. Used to make you not want to wear your own. But you understand now; feeling Bradley’s heartbeat under your hand as you fiddle with the ring.

"What's gotten into you?" he grins, taking you by the chin. Taking in your flushed cheeks and pouty lip, his grin only grows. "Jesus. Baby, don't you go looking at me like that. It'll do things to a man."

You crinkle your nose, jutting out your lip even more. You don't even have to say anything, he knows exactly what your look means. The effect it's having on him is obvious. Bradley groans softly in his throat, readjusting himself in jeans. His gaze lingers on you before moving to the rest of the table. "Mama, please. Can't you wait just a little longer?"

With the eyes of the dagger squad still on you, you decide it best not to make a scene. Lord knows they’d never let you live it down. Begrudgingly, you sigh and allow Bradley to free up a second chair. Falling into the seat given to you, a polite smile flashed at Jake and Javy. Everyone here is family, a family built on trust and mutual respect. You aren't a pilot, and have no desire to live in the clouds. But everyone loves you all the same, and because you’re Bradley’s wife, they care for you just the same. They learned to read you and your moods just as they had with Bradley. Jake grins at you, but doesn’t say a word. The other three watch you, but they keep most of their conversations directed towards Bradley.

Their chatter drags on for close to an hour, occasionally rising to an ungodly loud volume when they roar with laughter. You don’t know what’s funny enough to have Jake about falling out of his chair, as long as he’s having a good time, you suppose. Chin resting against your palm, you listen with mild disinterest. Another ten minutes passes by until you decide that you have been patient long enough. Discreetly under the table, you nudge Bradley’s calf with your foot, trying to get his attention. When he moves it away, unaware of your intentions, you huff in annoyance. He’s too caught up in his conversation with Mickey to notice when you kick your sandal off. While keeping a bored face, you slide your toes up the inside of one of his spread thighs, stopping when you reach his crotch. That gets his attention.

Grunting at the contact, Bradley plays it off the best he can. His hand grabs your foot under the table, squeezing it in warning. You’ve never really been good with subtle clues. Pursing your lips, you tug your foot back and he releases it. You wait for their conversation to go on a while longer before trying again. This time you will succeed.

Bradley doesn't release your foot. His grip is firm, but not hurting you. Thumb rubbing up the arch of your foot and digging into the sole. It makes you jump hard enough your knee whacks the table. It makes you want to moan. Fuck, it doesn’t matter where he’s touching you, he’s always good with his hands. When a shaky sigh leaves you, he scoots out his chair and turns to you.

“Is there something you need from me?” he murmurs low in your ear.

Eyeing him up and down, you slowly pull your foot away from him and stand to your feet. His hands are grasping your hips, keeping you from escaping. Shaking your head, your teeth bite at the inside of your cheek as your thighs rub together.

“Don’t need anything that you’re not willing to give, Bradshaw.”

His eyes darken, the hazel being drowned out. He scoots back, allowing you to pass. He’s on you within seconds. In your bedroom, the door shut, he’s flush against you. Nose bumping against yours, he's holding you to him, and you whine, because god, this is all you’ve wanted. It’s all you’ve thought about all day. You tried to be good, really, you did. But Bradley is a goddamn drug and so, so good to you.

He takes your face between his hands and slides his tongue into your mouth. Sighing, you count one, two, three steps before he has you pinned against the wall of your bedroom. Shaky hands slip underneath his cotton shirt, sliding your palms against the expanse of his abdomen. You grin when his muscles clench at the light touch. You trace the line of hair that disappears into his jeans, and when you reach for the button of his pants, he bites down on your lip.

A gasp at the silent reprimand, and before you can run your tongue to sooth the bite, he’s already on his knees, tugging your shorts and panties down and tossing them over his shoulder. Bradley kisses your thigh when he hoists a leg over his shoulder. He gives you no time to process in your slightly drunken state what’s happening before he uses his thumb and forefinger to part you and drags his tongue up to your clit.

Gasping, your knees buckle and you reach for a handful of his hair to steady yourself.

“Bradley,” You moan, hips already moving to match the pace of his tongue. “I—” Your eyes roll back and your head drops against the wall, the muscles in your thighs already beginning to shake in anticipation of the orgasm coiling tightly in your stomach.

The creak of the hall bathroom door sounds, echoing through the silence of your bedroom. Your eyes open, tilting your chin to stare down at Bradley. His eyes are hard, wild, dangerous. Everything you’re wanting and there is no stopping, there is no slowing down. No one can see you in here, they’d have to walk in. You lick your lips, eyes flying to the door right across from you. Bradley, well aware of the situation, only adds more pressure to the quick flicks of his tongue on your clit, you squeak in warning as a set of footsteps pass right by the door. You inhale a shaking breath, doing nothing for you as the voices of Natasha and Bob ring out over the music. Fuck, you forgot about karaoke.

“Come on, mama,” he murmurs against you, and you catch a flash of his smile as he looks up at you. “Count. Let's see how long it takes.”

“Are you insane?” you hiss, eyes darting to the door once again.

A sharp pain shoots up your leg and you glance down to see a red mark in the shape of his teeth on your inner thigh. “Did you just fucking bite me?”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it. Now count.” There’s no denying the threat in his voice. The threat of him keeping you away from your release until you do what he says.

His lips find your clit again, and while there's a part of you that knows that this isn’t a good idea, you cannot bring yourself to care. He wanted you fun, he wanted you loose. So here you are bearing it all. If his friends just so happen to be witnesses to it, well, that’s on you. He told you to wait. No, this isn’t a bad idea, not when you lace your fingers through his hair and start to count.

“One, two, three…five, seven, um…” You swallow back a moan and clench your eyes shut trying to focus. “ I lost count, do I have to start over?” His teeth graze your clit and you jump at the rush of pleasure that shoots through you. “I’m not starting over— fifteen, sixteen…oh god, Bradley.” You grind yourself against him, digging your fingers into his shoulders. “Oh, my god. Nineteen, twenty, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six, twenty…twenty-seven.”

Your eyes close, letting your body lose itself to the rhythm of his tongue. To the feel of him slipping a thick finger inside you, to the heightened sensation of goosebumps racing up your chest.

“Thirty-three, thirty-two, thirty, thirty— oh —” you give up on counting when your stomach tenses. Your legs nearly give out, and you tug on his hair so hard you're surprised it's not ripping out of his head.

You moan his name. Loud.

Right before you have the sense to be embarrassed, your orgasm floods you, setting your body on fire and lighting up every nerve in its wake. Bradley jumps to his feet, your shorts already in his hands, he’s holding you up while dressing you. Your legs shake against him. Your knees buckle a bit when he finally pulls back. Your head rolls against the wall until your cheek presses against the cool surface and you moan softly with each after shock pulsing through you, quaking through your trembling body.

Bradley smooths out your shirt, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He takes your chin and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. You sigh, tasting his cinnamon gum and you mingled together. It was a heady mix. He wraps his arms around you and opens the door, leading you down the hallway. It’s the flood of music and the mental haze of your orgasm leaving that reminds you that you just came. You came loudly with your house full of people. You freeze, bare feet sliding against the hardwood floor as Bradley keeps you forward.

“Do you, do you think they heard?” You whisper, tilting your head up.

“Oh, they one hundred percent heard. Bob might be nice and pretend that he didn’t.” There is no mistaking the air of satisfaction radiating from him.

“Oh my god.”

You bury your head in your hands as you round into the kitchen. The poker game has been abandoned. Everyone is in the living room, picking out their choice song for the singing competition about to take place. Bradley clears his throat, making everyone turn and stare. You’re sure you could fry eggs from how hot your cheeks are. They know. All of them. Poor Bob can’t meet your eyes. You sigh, flopping down on the couch.

You didn’t feel like singing anymore. Not that it matters, everyone knows you’re the real winner tonight anyway.

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw one shot #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfic #top gun: maverick fanfic

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jihnari · 1 year

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zhongchi - the ship that’s ruining my life

disclaimers:

ship what u want. i cannot stop you. i do not care. be free.

this post is an OPINION and you DO NOT HAVE TO AGREE. if reading about why i dislike zhongchi is going to upset you, maybe give this a pass

i do not dislike childe OR zhongli. i just think their ship is silly.

if you are a zhongchi shipper and you choose to read this anyway, this is not written as a personal attack. i said "zhongchi 😒" one too many times and a non-genshin friend said "why do you hate that ship so much" and then i wrote a manifesto

ive never been involved in real fandom drama and idk how it goes but i would like to remain ignorant and free, pls do not attack me over this i am small and nervous and do not mean any harm

part 0: the ship

"who are they and why does this ship exist?" you might ask, if you've never played genshin. on the surface, this is a simple question with a simple answer. the two characters for this ship are in the same place at the same time and their stories overlap heavily. childe is the big bad of zhongli's story arc. (not that zhongli fights him; you, the player character, fights childe.) so they potentially have enemies to lovers, and they are actually friends before some truths come to light and it's revealed they're on "different sides". childe also pays for things for both you (the player character) and zhongli, which people read as caring. [1]

childe/zhongli is the most popular genshin ship on ao3. there are currently 132,000 works on ao3 for genshin impact and 12,735 of those have the ship tag childe/zhongli. that's only 10% of the all existing works, but the second largest ship tag has only 6,600 works, which is half as many.

relevant as an influencing factor is another popular ship early on in genshin's inception. that other ship was the first two hot male characters to have tension and an overlapping storyline, but they turn out to be "related" and a large part of the fandom collectively dropped them like a hot potato. but these fans were already in the fandom, already playing genshin, and they needed someone to ship. so they collectively jumped over to the SECOND set of two hot male characters with perceived tension and an overlapping storyline, i.e. zhongli and childe. the story containing zhongli and childe is 1) permanent canon content and 2) presented relatively early to the player, so zhongchi as a ship is more accessible than other popular ships that don't show up for 50+ hours [2] of gameplay.

furthermore, neither childe or zhongli have many meaningful interactions with other characters, and both characters were very popular upon launch. their initial popularity caused an epidemic, and a subsequent over-saturation of the ship on ao3. [3]

part 1: the characters

zhongli is a retired ex-god who faked his own death so he could have a break and go play at being human in the most mundane way possible. he's spiritually and emotionally an old man. he watches operas and drinks tea, has very expensive taste but no money, and works the front desk at a funeral parlor. he's thousands of years old and not entirely human (more on that later). [4]

childe is in his 20s and an affable general in the evil army. at 14 childe fell through a hole into genshin hell and lived there for a few months and emerged Changed. he can also turn into a demon now, just as a fun side note. upon getting him back, his parents found him to be a very scary menace and they quickly enrolled him in the military. he is the youngest ever person to be made general in the evil army, but this is less due to him being driven by ambition and more being a violent gremlin who couldn't be controlled and who beat up everyone in his path.

in his spare time, childe gets into unwinnable fights and pushes himself to the limit just so he can feel something. he's utilitarian, having grown up poor, and when you ask about his least favorite food he tells you that being picky about food is a bad thing and you should cut that out. he "has money" but it's not his money, it's his government's money. the budget for his evil task is very, very high, and he uses it for mission things though he tends to be pretty loose about what that includes. his mission budget shouldn't matter, but will unfortunately come up later.

childe is diametrically opposed to zhongli and zhongli's city; or he WOULD be but childe is too friendly and zhongli secretly has a deal with childe's boss, paying them to do the evil thing so he can retire in peace. this is a slight betrayal to childe but when it comes to light he isnt upset at zhongli, he's upset at his coworker for being the literal worst. childe is still seen around fantasy china after he tries to destroy it with a meteor[5], and only the townspeople seem to have any hard feelings. zhongli and childe are not canonically depicted as having any hard feelings.

part 2: "making it work"

past the superficial reasons listed in part 0, zhongchi makes no sense to me as a pairing. zhongli is a boring old man and childe barely seems to consider people anything more than NPCs unless they end up having fighting prowess, in which case he tries to fight them and then (if they don't die) considers them friends.

childe is dynamic, always striving to be better, stronger, faster[6]; childe is an adrenaline addict. zhongli is static and intends to stay that way.

the characters have undergone some personality changes to make them fit together better.

zhongli is part dragon(?) so people give him an obsession for pretty things and a massive possessive streak. since he's "broke", childe becomes a sugar daddy type in many works. zhongli is also almost exclusively on top in sexual situations, because duh, old, powerful dragon. [7]

childe couldn't possibly be in a position of power when he's with a older, more powerful male, so he becomes very submissive and swoon-y and teenage girl. the betrayal hurt him *ever* so deeply and he may never emotionally recover. he canonically has a family whom he loves, so people come down on that hard and say he's a real family man and he wants to have a family of his own and obviously he wants to settle down with zhongli and have zhongli's babies.

part 3: losing sight of canon

the further this ship goes, the further we stray from god. [8]

childe is now super rich and loves paying for other people's things, especially zhongli's (forgetting that the money he has was in fact part of his mission budget). the tag "battlesexual childe" is a sortable tag on ao3, but the zhongchi part of genshin has all but forgotten childe likes to fight. zhongli is now possessive to a borderline abusive degree, and childe likes being tied down (metaphorically) to his dragon husband (did i mention they're frequently and casually married? this is the erasermic[9] of genshin).

another side effect of being auto-married by the fandom is that it pushes the domesticity angle of zhongchi. you know, zhongli, an ex GOD OF WAR who COMMITTED GENOCIDE and a childe, a dude so obsessed with fighting that his own family couldnt handle him and shipped him off to the military at 14. them. domestic. what drugs are you on [10]

part 4: dragons

hey. why did so many people have to latch onto the dragon thing? on a personal note, i do not understand the appeal but have no room to judge. on a cultural note, zhongchi is DOING IT WRONG.

in canon, zhongli's "dragon form" is based off of chinese dragons[11]. which makes sense, since the place he's from, liyue, is modeled after china. genshin impact is created by mihoyo, a chinese company.

what im saying is a chinese company writing a chinese game with a character from fantasy china would NOT make this character a western dragon.

western dragons breathe fire, are very aggressive, collect hoards of gold, and are often depicted as greedy and possessive. eastern dragons not only look different, they're associated with water (rain) rather than fire, they're cultural symbols of prosperity and good luck, and they FOSTER HARMONY. i have exclusively seen zhongli's "dragon personality traits" modeled after western dragons, not eastern ones. like. yeah. i get it. the dragons the english half of the fandom is familiar with are western dragons. maybe they don't even know how eastern, and specifically chinese dragons, are different. but that doesnt make them any less INCORRECT.

and hey! seeing dragon eggpreg content makes me want to die[12]. there’s so much. i wish there was less much. this also further encourages the feminization of childe which is :\ must we keep returning the gender norms to fictional romantic relationships

part 5: the ripple effect

the zhongchi version of childe has escaped containment[13]. im unhappy about it. i always know it when i see it because childe is an insatiable uwu bottom who would rather have sex than have a street fight.

because this ship is so hellaciously popular, other childe ships are relatively rare[14]. anywhere you go, if someone is a fan of zhongli or childe, they probably also ship it. i never want to see another piece of zhongchi fanart again and yet, i soldier on. this is my curse. this is my burden. for childe, i must persevere.

in conclusion,

i dont have a conclusion actually i just hate zhongchi, thanks for coming to my ted talk

[1] those people are incorrect.

[2] i didnt look up this number even a little bit, but i feel in my heart that it is accurate.

[3] "only 10%? and you're calling it an epidemic?" yes. yes i am. "don't you think thats a little harsh?" you haven't seen what ive seen. you haven't suffered what ive suffered.

[4] sorry i know the childe section is like four times as long but i just don’t about zhongli like i do childe.

[5] yes i know it wasnt a meteor but this was written to be read fandom blind and ff7 altered my brain chemistry.

[6] Daft Punk, "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger", 2001

[7] there are, of course, bottom!zhongli works. the name for this ship is "chili" (dont get me started on the top/bottom dynamic wars within the same pairing, we'll be here all day and i will scream until i pass out). it's more difficult to use ao3 numbers to prove my point here, as i find the tagging of top/bottom dynamics on ao3 to be inconsistent. instead, i will use statistics on zerochan.net. at the time of writing, zerochan has 1,765 images tagged with "zhongchi" and 228 images tagged with "chili". (so, ~90% of the childe/zhongli ship on zerochan is marked as zhongchi, i.e. top!zhongli and bottom!childe.) should i be using only a single data point to definitively say that zhongchi is exponentially more popular than chili? no, i should not; that's what we call bad science. but it illustrates the skew in the dynamics and the clear fandom preference, and this is a rant post not a scientific study.

[8] to some degree, inaccurate fanonizations involving popular characters in a large fandom is inevitable. i understand this. i do not accept this.

[9] erasermic (aizawa shouta/yamada hizashi) is a popular fandom auto-married ship from boku no hero academia. im not a fan of erasermic either but at least it's existence hasn't left a permanent stain on the characterizations of either character.

[10] ok so maybe zhongli could do the domesticity thing given that he's working that mundane human angle, though it would take some effort and learning and guidance. but childe? a house husband? lol. lmao.

[11] to be specific, he's half-dragon half-qilin but everyone seems to forget the qilin part. this isn't unreasonable, given that my experience is with the english speaking part of the genshin fandom, and qilin isnt really a thing that shows up in english media. one time i was watching a cdrama with a friend and the subtitles said "he has a dragon tattoo!" and she started YELLING and we had to pause the show because it wasnt a gd dragon it was a QILIN and they are VERY DIFFERENT THINGs, and then i got a whole rant about how even a unicorn would be a closer translation than dragon and i had to look up qilin's on wiki to follow along with the rant. and thats how i know what a qilin is.

[12] i have a visceral cringe reaction to dragons now, thanks zhongchi. from my favorite beanie baby being scorch to this, how far i have fallen

[13] im sure the same is true for this fanon version of zhongli but i havent bothered to verify.

[14] @ chilumi shippers: ur cool, i like u, i also like ur art it's cute <3 but your fanfiction is not for me u_u

#writing #fandom analysis #as written by a childe main #genshin impact #mentions of sex #rant #childe #tartaglia #zhongli #not zhongchi friendly but not zhongli unfriendly #zhongli is fine #chilumi shippers i see u and you're doing great keep it up i just dont read m/f #woke up today and chose violence #i really did think about letting this stay in discord dms forever but i worked too hard on this argument to let it die in obscurity #might delete later we'll see if the fandom gets vicious #hopefully they will not! but i am kind of inviting bad karma by posting this #i think the flanderization of fictional characters within fandom using traits they NEVER POSSESSED is a really fascinating thing #from a sociological perspective #from a fandom perspective pls stop ur hurting me #fandom telephone

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softprettything · 2 years

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late bloomer, ch 6

AO3 | Previous | Next

Fandom: OHSHC

Pairing: Kyoya/Reader

Tags: 18+, A/B/O Dynamics, College AU, Fake Dating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Slice of Life, Eventual Smut

Summary: Nobody ever said falling in love with your best friend would be easy.

Taglist (new!): @silverhetdanes @lampalooza

late bloomer, ch 6

“Are you sure you don’t want to revisit the black dress?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? It’s a classic for a reason. You can wear the blue blazer for color?”

She shakes her head. “It’s a date, not a Model UN conference.”

Right.

You came home from your shift at the coffee shop to find Haruhi in her room, and her room looking so messy that it might as well be your room. That was an hour ago, and it’s only gotten worse since then. An hour of her turning down everything you suggest; trying on every possible combination of clothing she owns; trying on the few articles of your clothing that she wouldn’t drown in.

Your phone buzzes—your group chat with the twins.

Thing 1: y/n. come out.

Y/N: Im busy

Thing 1: busy doing what, sniffing h’s dirty laundry?

Thing 2: EW

Y/N: Youre absolutely vile

Thing 2: ignore him

Thing 2: but also…..come out

Thing 2: pregame in 5 @hikarus place

Y/N: Homework

Thing 1: booo.

Thing 2: its literally friday are u kidding

Thing 2: get your ass over here and lets go frat hopping

Y/N: Ew x a million

Y/N: You know i dont do frats and ALSO i have HOMEWORK.

“How about this?”

You lock your phone, toss it on the bed. Look up. “Oh.”

You recognize the long-forgotten camisole, simple ivory silk. Must have found that at the back of a drawer, though God only knows how it’s so wrinkle-free. She’s tucked it into the dark, slim-cut dress pants (the pants you’ve mended for her at least once a year through college—cheaper than buying new ones, after all), and adjusted it to be just the right amount of baggy. Really, it’s not that much different from what she usually wears. There’s no reason for you to feel as though your heart has made a play for your esophagus.

But then she turns back to look at you, and something about her eyes, something about the arc of her neck, something about her smile, her smile, her smile —faint and familiar and more vulnerable than any you’ve seen—something about it has you lost for words.

Though the smile quickly disappears when she sees your lack of reaction. After all, you aren’t usually the stoic one. “Oh good? Or…”

“Yeah. No, yeah, it’s perfect.” You cross to the dresser, doing your best to seem very interested in the slim selection of costume jewelry you two have amassed over the years.

“Really?”

Your eyes meet in the mirror. And it’s funny, because you and Haruhi have been friends for years and years. Nearly two decades, at this point. You’ve seen each other through every year of school, through every major life milestone, through first kisses and funerals and everything in between.

But here’s the thing: you can’t remember the last time you ever saw her looking anything close to insecure.

You look down at the little gold hoops you have in your palm. You walk over to her, and place them in her hand. “Really.”

She swallows, and nods. Outside, you hear the sound of a car door opening and shutting. Haruhi turns back to the mirror to start putting in the earrings. “That’s probably him. Could you—”

“Already on it.” You stop at the door. “You know he’d be an idiot not to be into you, right?”

There’s a short moment of quiet. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

*****************

After awkwardly greeting Tamaki at the door (her brought her a small bouquet and a single rose for you, which, you begrudgingly admitted to yourself, was very considerate), giving him a half-joking version of your typical “hurt her and you’ll be sleeping with the fishes” speech, and closing the door behind them (because you’d already forbidden yourself from torturing yourself by watching them walk to the car), you check your phone again.

Thing 2: here btw

Thing 2: its raining pls come get me

Thing 1: y/n.

Thing 1: are you still playing dress up with haruhi.

Thing 1: you ARE aren’t you.

Thing 2: y/n just say youre coming so hikaru can come unlock the door

Thing 1: you know the door code, dumbass.

Thing 2: oh yeah

Thing 2: k im in

Thing 1: y/n. pls come save me from this idiot.

They must have started drinking, because the next text was twenty minutes later—and significantly less comprehensible.

Thing 2: look if ur.not gonna pregame at leastt meet us out

Thing 2: hango n ill drop the addres

It’s not far from your apartment; just a seven minute walk. Which you could probably make in five.

No! No. You are not going out walking alone, in the middle of the night, only to ruin your only sneakers on some filthy, sticky frat room floor, come home too exhausted to even take off your makeup, and wake up tomorrow morning smelling like sweat and beer and other unmentionable fluids. That is the last thing you want or need.

Thing 2: u promised back in aaugust youd come out with us atl east onxe

Thing 2: onxe

Thing 2: ONCE

Thing 2: cmonnnn

That last text was five minutes ago. Surely they wouldn’t have left for another party that quickly?

Chewing on your lip, you type:

Y/N: Still there?

#kyoya/reader #kyoya x reader #late bloomer #chai.writes #ohshc x reader #kyoya fanfic #abo

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achilleanwizard · 2 years

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I was tagged by @punkranger (Thank you!!! 😊) And I’m going to tag @gelvaan @sataari @mutantenfisch @deviant3lover @averagejermafan @demianwas and @aelyosos (Feel free to ignore this if you’ve already done it, or just don’t feel like filling it out for your OC(s)!! I’ve just noticed you guys talking about your ocs, and I’d love to hear more about them!)

BASICS

Full Name: Alexander Valente

Gender: Male?? Look, we’ve got more important things to worry about right now, okay?

Sexuality: Biromantic Bisexual

Pronouns: As of right now? Just he/him. He’s pretty comfy with she/her too though. It’s flattering that people think he might be a girl

OTHERS

Family: He never had anyone he considered family; Just very good friends. If asked about it, then he’d say something along the lines of “Do you think I would take the boost drug, with a notoriously very low survival rate, in order to get superhero powers if I had any family I wanted to talk about?”

Birthplace: ???, Nevada, USA

Job: A consultant. Who is he advising and what is he giving them advice about? Mind your business

Phobias: Spiders. Heights. Especially looking out of windows from a very tall height. Admitting he has feelings for a certain someone(s). Abandonment. Probably a whole bucketful more, but those are the main ones.

Guilty Pleasures: Sugar in all it’s various forms (even if he needs the energy to function/for his telepathy) Taking the time to read and appreciate art when not working. Painting his nails (but only when possessing the Puppet’s body) Taking time off work. Buying three entire floors of a luxury skyscraper to house his villain base/office, Renting the most luxurious top floor penthouse (That would make Mayor Osborn (from spider-man) weep tears of envy) he could afford for a home that he barely resides in, Pleasures of the flesh (it’s like a catholic priest up in here) Honestly, it would be easier to list things he isn’t guilty about. (Killing. He’s not guilty about those he’s killed, even if he should be.)

Hobbies: Playing piano. Scheming. Beating up Daniel behind a Wendy’s parking lot Training Daniel. Kissing Daniel too. Starting fights that he can’t possibly hope to win/finish

MORALS

Morality Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Sins: Desire / Despair / Envy / Fear / Hunger / Pride / Rage / Sloth (so almost all of them…)

Virtues: Charity / Chastity / Diligence / Humility / Justice / Kindness / Patience

THIS OR THAT

introvert/extrovert organized/disorganized close minded/open-minded calm/anxious disagreeable/agreeable cautious/reckless patient/impatient outspoken/reserved leader/follower empathetic/unempathic optimistic/pessimistic traditional/modern hard-working/lazy

RELATIONSHIPS

Otp: It’s cruel that you’re making me choose between Herald and Ortega. But gun to my head…. Chargestep. There’s nothing quite like old lost loves.

Ot3: I forget the ‘official’ name for it but, Herald/Sidestep/Ortega (Flychargestep? Chargeflystep?)

Acceptable Ships: Alexander flirts with everyone possible, so. Argentstep. Steelstep. Mortumstep? <- Is that the right name? Anyway, he’ll smooch just about anyone.

Brotp: I have to admit, I’ve been thinking about different Sidestep interactions from time to time. I think he’d be good buddies with some, and have a, uh, very *interesting* dynamic with others. Not naming any specific Sidesteps to 1. Avoid any favoritism and 2. Not humiliate myself even further. He’s annoying though, and he revels in that, so it might only be a good time for him. Oh, also Anathema and Sidestep. Best bros for life (or death)

Notp: Oh, this one’s tough. Shroud/Sidestep if that’s even a thing. It’s on sight for him with her. He don’t trust random Regenes like that. (Unless it’s a multiple Sidesteps AU) HG/Sidestep too cause… yeah. If you know you know. Icky. Blaze/Sidestep, because I like teasing my friends(?) (acquaintances?) 😉

#Notice how Nocturne and Jake aren’t on the Notp list….#anyway they can give Alexander a call if they want a good time 🤙#he’s Mr. steal your [redacted]’s girlfriend and/or boyfriend #…actually now that I’m embarrassing myself anyway #I’ve also been thinking about some sidestep/sidestep interactions for him….#which I will keep entirely to myself #and goodnight #tag games #oc: alexander valente #Anyway I’m so very sorry that this is probably incomprehensible to some of you guys #and to that I say… please play Fallen Hero: Rebirth cause it’s so very good #10/10 video game #and the sequel is coming out on February 2nd!#2023 #in case the year was in question

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birdisland · 1 year

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15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Tagged by @cloudsofbespin & @wheresbenni thank you 💕

1. Are you named after anyone? My middle name is from a great-great grandmother, my first and third I don't think are after anyone.

2. When was the last time you cried? I fake-cried yesterday when joking around with my daughter and made myself cry for real. I tend to do that. 😂 (We were joking about IWTV Louis eating the fennec fox FYI. 🧛🏽🦊)

3. Do you have kids? A 22 year old daughter.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? Not really, no. I’d like to be able to, but it always comes out so forced.

5. What sports do you play/have played? Fencing and swimming as a child/teen. Swimming is still my favorite form of exercise.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? Voice, eyes, mouth.

7. What's your eye color? Blue.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Both? Depends? Not sure how to answer this, they’re not mutually exclusive.

9. Any special talents? I used to write a lot, both original and fanfic and poetry, and people said I was talented, but it's been years and years since I’ve written anything to speak of. And I'm not a bad singer, but again, it's been a long time.

10. Where were you born? Lund, southern Sweden.

11. What are your hobbies? Reading, listening to music, hiking, enjoying nature, swimming... and studying maps! I can lose myself in maps for hours. 🌎

12. Do you have pets? None right now. I've had cats all my life but since my last two both passed away in 2021 I haven't felt ready for such a long term commitment again. I'm not exactly young anymore and cats live long. And also now that my daughter is all grown up I want to be free to travel and do whatever I want for a while.

13. How tall are you? 173 cm/5'8.

14. Favorite subject in school? English, Swedish.

15. Dream job? When I was a small kid I wanted to be a truck driver, and sometimes I regret not becoming one actually... I also dreamed of becoming a translator for a long time, but alas, it was not to be.

Tagging @viciousland @malpuella @scouser-villanelle @thefairylights @alix-ir @edwardashley @katdulac @starfirebird @ohnoitsmycircus @terribledelights @laisofhyccara @thewordlair @thoughtofstseb @uozlulu @soitamulle. If you’ve already done it, ignore, and if you just don’t feel like it, ignore too. 😘

#tag game

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jsasimmer · 1 year

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Sim Tag

Thank you @kestrelteens for tagging me 💛💛

1. What’s your favourite sims death? I don’t like to see my sims die so I let them to die of old age when no more Elixir of Life ahhhh

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? Maxis Match, especially conversions from ts3.

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? Never! I force them to workout!

4. Do you use move objects? Yes and turn off immediately coz I messed up the game with this cheat before!

5. Favorite mod? Shiftable Everything mod is everything! With its flexibility, I can use less CC!

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? The Sims 1, I’m old.

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? aLIVE

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Mimi Landgraab, she’s so fun to play with! I can say I created her half as I created her mom 😇

9. Have you made a simself? Yes! Look at my avatar! Though she isn’t 100% look like me :p

10. What sim traits do you give yourself?

🎨 Artistic, 🍌 Clumsy, 🥴 Unstable and🚶‍♀️Loner

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? Unnatural color!

12. Favorite EA hair?

13. Favorite life stage? Adult becoz they’ve more stuffs to do!

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? I’m more of a decorator than a builder, I’m suck at building exterior, I need to look up many references for inspiration and sometimes I just clone it :/ so I prefer gameplay! I'm still amazed by details in games I never noticed before!

15. Are you a CC creator? No but I hope to learn to convert sth one day :D

16. Do you have any simblr friends/a sim squad? Not really but my fds know that I love playing sims so if there is anything related to it, they’ll think of me and we’ll talk about it!

17. What’s your favorite game? Ts2 definitely!!!

18. Do you have any sims merch? No

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? No but I enjoy watching other simmers’ sims story on YouTube~

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? I completely changed my play style comparing to when I was a kid, I don’t use money cheat anymore becoz I get bored real quick when I get things easily. And I gradually using CC and mod from a vanilla game (but still limit the download folder to around 2GB)

21. What’s your Origin ID? I’ve forgot already…

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? All of them are amazing! Thank you all for putting your time and love into this game 💛💛

23. How long have you had a simblr? Wow it’s been 3 year but my simblr doesn’t have that much posts :p

24. How do you edit your pictures? I follow a photoshop tutorial and adjust the settings a bit to mainly smooth edges and sharpen.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? I want a ep that my sims can get famous if ts2 still alive. I love the content of ts1 superstar and celebrity system from ts3, it’ll be a perfect mix of both.

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? Open for Business, I feel extremely satisfied when customers fill up the store 🤩

I’m tagging @cobycobsy2k, @mynameisquoi, @grimbunnies, @sims-for-semi, @simsdada and @townieacres Feel free to ignore :)

#tag game #yes sims

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cautiously0ptimistic · 1 year

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15 questions for 15 mutuals

I was tagged by the babyloves @thegloomiestwhim, @stillgotme, @rebelangelsims 💛 thanks for thinking of me while i’ve been away ;-;

are you named after anyone? My mother just happened to catch an ad for the trapeze artist at the local carnival when she was pregnant with me, but wanted to switch it up a bit. So instead of Arianna, Arianne was born~

when was the last time you cried? The real question would be when’s the last time I didn’t cry~ yikes.

do you have kids? NAWR, I am perfectly happy living my best auntie life for the time being.

do you use sarcasm a lot? never

what sports do you play/have you played? I was a cheerleader in middle school??? Does that count lol

what's the first thing you notice about other people? whether or not they have kind eyes

eye colour? dark, dark brown

scary movies or happy endings? scary movies 100%, i’m a huge horror fan.

any special talents? I came out the womb singing, and I’d like to think all that practice has paid off???

where were you born? Richmond, VA!

what are your hobbies? reading/writing/vidya games

do you have any pets? a German Shepherd dog named Kira, and Half-Maine Coon tabby named Priscilla, absolute loves of my life.

how tall are you? 5 feet, 7 inches. she a tree.

fave subject in school? English/French/Biology,

dream job? Author is the dream, but at this point, just having a job in which the work is something I genuinely care about and feels valuable would be incredible.

Won’t get to 15 but tagging @romanticsims, @shysimblr, @streetlites, @mireuja, @veinsinneon, @fadingfatesimz, @ellemant, @alkalinesims, and anyone else who wants to do this! I’ve been gone a while so feel free to ignore if you’ve already done it/don’t want to do it. No hard feelings!

#tag game #ari speaks #slowly but surely making my way out of this perpetual state of catching up

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theflagscene · 1 year

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15 Questions 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by @khaotunq 🫶🫶

Are you named after anyone? - Nope, I was actually named something else until I was born when I came out the wrong gender (they thought I was boy, scans weren’t great in the 80’s lol) So I was nameless for the first couple weeks of my life until my aunt named me, she thought the name she chose matched my sister’s name well, said we sounded like sisters.

When was the last time you cried? - Like six hours ago lol, I had an anxiety attack which usually involves some tears.

Do you have kids? - Nope, I cannot medically have children. If I did manage to get pregnant by some miracle, there’s a good chance I could die ☠️

Do you use sarcasm a lot? - According to medical professionals, I apparently use it as a coping mechanism lol!

What spots do you play/have played? - I haven’t played a sport since I was in school, ngl. I was on the girl’s travel soccer team and the shot put team. I also did gymnastics, swam and ice skated. I was big into BMX biking when I was a pre-teen too, it was a 90’s, that was super cool at the time.

What’s the first thing you notice about other people? - Height, eyes, lips, hands.

What’s your eye colour? - Dark dark brown, my eyes look black indoors and nearly gold in direct sunlight.

Scary movies or happy endings? - I enjoy scary movies more than anything, but I do tend to write happy endings. So… both 🤷‍♀️

Any special talents - I mean, I have one that tends to be a party trick that people want to see when they find out about it. I have zero gag reflex, no it’s not suppressed, no I don’t have to work past it, it’s just legit not there. I’ve had doctors look at me in shock when they basically stick their hand down my throat and I don’t blink an eye lol. @kellanwrites once watched me put an entire banana down my throat without even breaking eye contact 😉

Where were you born? - Ontario, Canada.

What are your hobbies? - Reading, crocheting, writing, baking, nail art, colouring, video games, sitting around and doing nothing while waiting for the cold hand of death to grip me and drag me away… too dark? That might have gotten too dark, sorry about that.

Do you have any pets? - A dog, a rabbit, and guinea pig and four cats.

How tall are you? - I’m 5’8, which is very tall for someone who’s AFAB, although I am one of the shorter females in my family, shockingly lol. My older sister is 5’11 and my mother is 6’ tall.

Favourite subject at school - English, science, art, music and history.

Dream job - Something where I wouldn’t have to interact with anyone, like stacking books or shelves in the back of a store. Counting out pills in a pharmacy, just a job where I could count/stack/arrange things quietly away from people. Maybe working in an archive of some sort 🤔

Oh no, help me, I need to see if I have 15 mutuals now lol!!! Sorry if you’ve already been tagged in this, feel free to ignore me and as always, there’s no pressure to play along 💖

@neo-neos @hearts-burden @tiistirtipii @alan-apologist @vampetal @sparklyeyedhimbo @fanfictionroxs @negrowhat @hermioneismyrealname @grace-of-creation @thewarpeffect @lotus-soup-pot @oh-goodness-loki @deliveryghibli @absolutelyarealperson

#tag game #15 questions 15 mutuals

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heliossecretdeskdrawer · 2 years

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A Touching Moment

For @realitysperception and Spector_Author (on AO3) Thank you for your patience.

Continuity: IDW1

Rating: Mature

Relationship: Ratchet/Rodimus

Characters: Ratcher & Rodimus

Warnings: Referenced plug-n-play, spark sexual interfacing, very light dom/sub dynamics, established relationship, open-ended. Please see AO3 entry for full applicable tags.

Summary: In which Ratchet decides Rodimus's jokes are terrible pickup lines.

Crossposting: AO3 | DreamWidth | Pillowfort

Fic under cut

“Rodimus, I really don’t think this is the best way to go about it.”

Ratchet tried to ignore the cold air of Rodimus’s otherwise comfortable captain’s quarters lingering on his warm spark as he closed up his chest panels, latching the windshield back into place over them as soon as Rodimus pulled his fingers free.

Blue dust, glowing brightly, still clung to the captain’s loudly yellow fingers, hanging on via electrostatic charge. That would be an absolute mess as soon as Rodimus touched anything else, promptly forgetting about the sparkdust he would be smearing on everything.

The mood to interface was rapidly disappearing, despite the eager massage that he had just been in the middle of receiving.

At least the couch he was sitting on what comfortable. It was a miracle it hadn’t been trashed at some point in one of Rodimus’s fits of pique, not that he had as many of those these days. Or perhaps the current sofa was a replacement for another, less fortunate model. Who could say.

Early on in their intimate relationship, which began as an attempt to fill their respective yawning voids when Drift was exiled, Ratchet had decided it wasn’t in their best interests to live together. Rodimus as a roommate would drive him first completely up the wall and then right into the morgue.

Living apart as not quite amica—they were still feeling that out—was fine and suited them both. Rodimus could make a mess and have his own private space and Ratchet could retreat to solitude when he needed it. He also didn’t want to deal with Rodimus accidentally setting him on fire in the middle of the night if he had a bad dream during recharge.

That and Rodimus’s fireproof tarpaulins weren’t comfortable. The crinkling noise they made was torture and they felt like sleeping in plastic pallet wrap. Best to just keep their separate spaces.

“What?”

Rodimus pouted in disappointment as he stood in front of the couch, blue-coated hand held awkwardly in front of his chest.

They had only tried casual and conventional port-and-plug interfacing, restricted to shallow sensation only, up until this point, partially out of convenience. It had been long time since Ratchet’s academy days.

However, this time Ratchet had begrudgingly agreed to let Rodimus, ever afraid of anything getting too boring, attempt a few new dynamics.

They had already put up one important boundary before getting started: no spark-to-spark contact, even indirectly by transferred sparkdust. That was far too risky and intimate in a way they weren’t remotely ready for. The very thought of an accidental and irreversible bond was terrifying. They were still working to fully identify their needs. It was way too early for anything like that kind of commitment, but who knew, maybe one day they would decide otherwise.

“Do you think this is some sort of revenge for when you tried to get me to step down as captain?”

“No, it’s because your opening line was ‘This is your captain speaking.’”

Putting his hand on his chin and leaving a bright streak of blue in the process, Rodimus snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, that was a pretty good one—“

“Rodimus, focus.” Ratchet snapped his fingers in front of Rodimus’s face to reign in his wandering attention. “Listen to me: that one was terrible. It was one of the least arousing things you’ve ever said to me, and that includes the time you called my tires ‘bouncy castles.’”

“Oh, come on!” Rodimus threw his arms forward and wide, pleading as dust particles fell away in a puff. “The captain line was comedic gold! And, for the record, I was complimenting your tires.”

“No, no, it wasn’t ‘comedic gold,’” Ratchet said, holding up his own hands in a sarcastic gesture of quotation that he had accidentally picked up from Rodimus. “And I’m not going to pretend otherwise.”

“But—“

“Rodimus, please.” He sighed, dropping his palms to the couch to let them rest on the dingy upholstery. This place really needed to be vacuumed, but he knew sometimes it was difficult for Rodimus to find the wherewithal to tidy up as often as was necessary. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Don’t say—“

“I’m disappointed.”

Rodimus whined, dramatically dropping to his knees and slumping sideways onto the floor like he’d been shot in slow motion.

“Disappointed,” he echoed, face buried against the stained mesh rug on the floor.

An ugly streak of blue light was left in the wake of Rodimus’s fingers touching the ground.

This was more or less what Ratchet had expected would happen. Rodimus didn’t take either rejection or disappointment well, but this seemed a little over the top. He was probably putting on a performance to get Ratchet to walk the complaints back. If that was the case, Rodimus would probably rebound shortly with a “new, awesome idea.”

Maybe they could still get some overloads out of this encounter, but Ratchet’s interest was still flagging.

Almost as if on cue, Rodimus pulled himself upright on his knees and scooted between Ratchet’s legs. He placed his hands on the medic’s thighs, a desperate cling to his grip.

“Let me try again, docbot. Come on.” There was the second wind, as anticipated. Rodimus, his optics now wide and pleading, always did get back on his feet after falling down, both literally and figuratively. His sheer, irrepressible will to fail forward was one of his more admirable traits. “I can try again. It’ll be better. We’ll have a good time. I promise.”

Ratchet sighed once more but nodded, relenting. “Alright, but new boundary: no more bad puns or captain jokes in the berth.”

“Just to clarify—“

“Yes, the couch counts.”

Rodimus let the focal rings of his optics spiral down into narrow points as he thought before nodding.

“Cool, yeah, that’s cool.” He stuck out a hand for Ratchet to shake. The one tainted by Ratchet’s own sparkdust. “Deal.”

Oh well. It was his own. Fine.

He took the hand, shaking it before settling back against the couch again, waiting for… whatever Rodimus decided to do next.

“Just sit back; I got this.”

Rodimus finally stood, leaning over Ratchet with more of that “fake it until you make it” confidence.

He placed his palm, the blue dust having finally tracked all the way down his hand, on Ratchet’s windshield and rubbed the glass in a gentle, careful circle. The glass had minimal sensors embedded in it, just enough to know when something had come into contact with the surface, for safety reasons. Streaks of sparkdust smeared in wide swaths but at least it was his own.

Ratchet turned off his optics and relaxed under the gentle massage, letting his legs fall further open so Rodimus could stand closer.

Rodimus’s other arm, that hand still miraculously clean, came to rest against Ratchet’s shoulder, his hand lightly caressing the exposed neck cables. He bent forward and leaned his forehead against Ratchet’s.

This was fine, so far. He wasn’t running hot again, no, but the idea of interfacing no longer seemed like a massive chore that he’d simply rather not do.

“Open up for me?”

It was phrased like a question, but it wasn’t really one. Rodimus had wanted to try being “dominant” today, in addition to the manual spark stimulation, but he wasn’t… experienced in that realm. Ratchet just had no preference one way or the other, as long as it was an enjoyable time.

He was willing to let Rodimus try to order him around a little, within reason.

That was fine, especially since it meant Ratchet wouldn’t be doing as much of the work.

It wasn’t something he normally did in the course of his duties, given that as the chief medical officer, he could override almost any of the captain’s decisions if they had a bearing on the health and wellbeing of the crew.

He let the latches holding his windshield and chest panels closed click open. Rodimus gingerly pried him open, care given to each hinge’s limited range of motion.

Sparklight flooded the room again. Cold air on his spark made Ratchet shudder, but the chill was soon banished when Rodimus brought his hand to the hot surface of the crystal for a fresh coating of dust.

Fingers slid gently over the crystal, carefully exploring and touching as charge smoothly radiated away into Ratchet’s systems. Another pulse of charge washed over his circuits as he heard the soft click of a plug cover opening near his audio sensor, a sign that Rodimus was unspooling his wrist cable.

Trying again had definitely been a good idea.

#fic #one shot #valveplug #rodimus #ratchet #ratchrod

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sushiosims · 1 year

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Sims Tag

Thank you for the tag @jasesims!

1. What’s your favorite sims death? Same as Jase, I never let my sims die! When they get old, I usually start a new game haha. I get way too attached to my lil pixel babes

2. Alpha CC or Maxis Match? A little mix tbh, I like both, and as long as they work together, I see no problem in swinging between the two!

3. Do you cheat when your sims gain weight? I usually have them eat healthier and jog a few times, so no!

4. Do you use move objects? All the time, its always on in my game

5. Favorite mod? I cannot at this point live without default skins/lashes and eyes, as well as hair, cc wise. I can go without any other cc! Mods wise, Lumpinou First Impressions is a must, as is Pandasama's Birth mod. Gamechanging.

6. First expansion/game/stuff pack you got? The Sims, Hot Date! I have been around a long time!

7. Do you pronounce “live mode” like aLIVE or LIVing? aLIVE

8. Who’s your favorite sim that you’ve made? Probably Forrest, he was an accidental baby (actually a twin) and I ignored him till he was a young adult, as I was playing his sisters and his parents, then something happened, and I just fell in love with him!

9. Have you made a simself? Nope, not yet.

10. What sim traits do you give yourself? I don't have one, but I would say Loner, Clumsy and Bookworm

11. Which is your favorite EA hair color? Dark, either black or dark brown

12. Favorite EA hair? For female the werewolves med cut with the bangs, and for male probably the university short style, cant explain it so I will show it! Also, this is Forrest who I spoke of above :)

13. Favorite life stage? Young Adult

14. Are you a builder or are you in it for the gameplay? A mix of everything, thats why I love The Sims, if I start playing, and I can't get into gameplay, I just start renovating my save, or making new sims, or maybe some posing/storytelling. The game can be played in so many ways, and I love all of it ♥

15. Are you a CC creator? Nope, I have no idea even how to do a simple recolour!

16. Do you have any Simblr friends/a Sim Squad? I met a lot of really good people on Twitter, who I am proud to call my friends now ♥

17. What’s your favorite game? (1, 2, 3, or 4)? The Sims 4, for sure. I know its controversial, but I love its style, and its the first game I have been able to get into building and storytelling. The worlds are beautiful. Tartosa is by far one of my favourites

18. Do you have any sims merch? Nope.

19. Do you have a YouTube for sims? Nope.

20. How has your “sim style” changed throughout your years of playing? I think so!

21. What’s your Origin ID? Sushiopath

22. Who’s your favorite CC creator? @simmireen for poses, @pierisim for BB and @simstrouble for CAS

23. How long have you had a simblr? For a long time, but I have barely used it, trying now to get the hang of it. I am noob.

24. How do you edit your pictures? Usually just Pixlr

25. What expansion/game/stuff pack do you want next? Definitely Bands, its all I am waiting for now, cars would be good, but kinda pointless, but would be good for driving lessons, fixing up, repairs etc.

26. What expansion/game/stuff pack is your favorite so far? Growing Together imo brought the most to the gameplay, but I will always love the broken mess that was Wedding Stories for bringing Tartosa into my life ♥♥

I’ll tag @summers-legacy @thehungrysimmer @halloweensims @tedsies @melbrewer367 @gnattyplayssims @pamsimmerstories

and Please feel free to ignore if you've already did this or just don’t feel like it. 😁

#sims 4 #tag game

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thatsdemko · 1 year

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game time!!!

rules: shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people

note: I have Apple Music so I’m just doing this with my recently played

tagged by: @goldsainz (hope you don’t mind I’m doing the game on this account xx)

tagging: @diorleclerc @monzabee @softtdaisy @ anyone who wants to do this because all my other moots have been tagged! feel free to ignore if you’ve already done/been tagged!

boyfriends - harry styles

daydreaming - harry styles

loved you first - one direction

dicked down in Dallas - trey lewis

till forever falls apart - ashe & finneas

long live - Taylor swift

best friends - 5sos

save you tonight - one direction

lavender haze - Taylor swift

flatline - 5sos

#k talks #k plays a game!#I feel like this is an accurate description of me

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introvertedfox · 2 years

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I was tagged by @nigmos, @minty-plumbob and @kissalopa. Thank you!! 🧡

rules: Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to get to know better.

favourite color: I always say brown or blue, but in reality I love them all. Except pink, I really don’t like pink.

currently reading: Still reading Fire and Blood by George R. R. Martin. I’m already a slow reader as it is, but I had to go back and read a few parts of the dance of dragons because they’re changing a lot of things in the show.

last song you listened to: Trouble by Imagine Dragons

last series you watched: Dragon Prince. Just finished rewatching it in preparation for the new season.

sweet, spicy or savory: Savory, always.

craving: Chocolate. I’ve been eating way too much chocolate lately...most be the stress. xD

tea or coffee: Tea. I don’t really like coffee.

working on: All my free time has been spent drawing for Inktober or putting together the Avatar lego sets I got earlier this month. Sims wise I haven’t played in a while, can’t find the time or motivation unfortunately. I hope next month things will get calmer.

I tag @10000dreams, @bakersimmer, @satureja13, @strangetown-gaming, @simmer-rhi, @stargazer-sims, @plasticine-dolls, @nimphaea, @pixelbasil (feel free to ignore if you’ve already done this)

#you can really see a theme here xD #there's always a dragon hidden in everything I do #I just love those big scaly beasts #why don't we have dragons in the sims...that would be so cool xD #tag game #fox talks #fox rambles

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killmehe · 3 years

Text

Some Kind of Wonderful

Summary — In which your friend Katsuki decides to help you 'practice' for your upcoming date.

Pairing — Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

WC — 5507

Tags — MDNI - Minors Do Not Interact, Aged-up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Making out, Implied Chubby Reader, Literally the tiniest hint toward a boner, Implied Mirio/Reader, No Beta

Katsuki’s patience snaps in half when you let out your fifth sigh of the afternoon. He stomps his boots on the ground, slaps his paperback book down, and he wires his jaw tight. The cherry on top of his hissy fit comes in the form of a heated glare tossed in your direction, where you stand hunched under a Honda Civic. “What’s your fuckin’ problem? And don’t give me that ‘nothing’ bullshit.”

With the purse of your lips and the scratch of your thoroughly used pencil, you ignore his outburst and take it for what it is — an opening to whine about your troubles to Katsuki, guilt-free. You just don’t have it in you to be anything less than transparent about the heaving, wistful breaths, even if you should give him shit about his tone. It’s Katsuki, anyways — when you’ve been friends with him this long, sometimes you have to give up the ghost of indignation with how he extends his ass-backward concern.

You glance up at him while you take inventory of supplies, gauging his irritation while you run over the checklist in your head. “I’m a little nervous about my date.”

He doesn’t contain his almost audible eye roll, crossing two big arms in front of his chest while scoffing at you. ”What’s there to be nervous over? It’s just fucking Togata.”

Funnily enough, you already recognize how ridiculous it is to be this concerned about Mirio. And that’s no slight to him; He’s unassuming, sweet, and easygoing with an air that has most people feeling safe and secure. On top of it all, he asked you on a date because he was the one with the massive crush, not you. You were sitting fairly pretty with the current situation but the hot pinpricks in your stomach beg to differ.

”I know, but—“ you falter for a second, trying to figure out if this is really the type of thing you want to talk about with Katsuki of all people. He’ll probably call you an idiot and go back to his boring nonfiction without another word on the subject — there’s also a chance that he’ll resort to mocking and you’ll never hear the end of it. At least that’s how he normally reacts when Denki complains about being left on read or when Kirishima bumbles around all red-faced after receiving compliments from you.

You only need a few seconds to find your resolve again. Potential humiliation is always daunting but you really don’t think you can stomach the last hours of your shift with this uneasy weight on your shoulders. Besides, he won’t let it lie if you shrug him off now after practically begging for his attention. “Well, it’s just — what am I gonna do if we kiss?”

His face goes slack for a millisecond before he looks like he wants to kill you for bringing up the subject. “Are we in middle school or somethin’? Just fuckin’ kiss him if you want to,” he growls it out, already ripping open his book to find the page he lost for such a juvenile conversation.

You can’t bring yourself to say the real issue. How hard could it possibly be to just say you’re out of practice? Extremely, woefully out of practice for someone your age who should be playing the field to some degree. You haven’t been in a relationship since high school and the last time you kissed someone was at a Christmas party two years ago.

(Even more depressing is the fact that the kiss in question only barely counts. Getting caught underneath the mistletoe with Tenya had resulted in the most awkward, short-lived peck in human existence. It took months for either of you to fully live it down and you still hear about it every December.

You would be loath to admit it but it’s because of Katsuki that all you’ve experienced in the last few years has been Tenya’s stiff embrace. At some point before that party, you had noticed the way you came alive when he would direct all of his attention on you and it hadn’t taken long to realize that it was because you had feelings for him. How could you not? He's always cared for you and paid attention to all of your little parts, always rough and tumble but soft and doting at the same time. He’s always impressed upon you how you’re ‘his girl’ and it’s always lit you like a livewire.

Despite it all, you’d given up hope of reciprocity. He never exhibited any feelings in return and you weren’t the type to actively pursue something with a friendship as dear as his on the line. Mirio’s invitation couldn’t have come at a better time because, hopefully, someone as lovely as him will wean you off of Katsuki and the insurmountable emotions you have for him.)

You don’t flounder for long because Katsuki never lets you. He always zeros in on these things quickly without you having to actually say anything. It’s too bad that he uses his powers for evil instead of actually being helpful for once.

His smile is knife-sharp and his eyes hold the usual air of taunting people like Izuku have to deal with all the time. “What? Does the little ‘ole mechanic still not know how to kiss?” He clicks his tongue in mock pity before letting out an obnoxious laugh at your expense, slapping his book on his knee like he wasn’t pissed at the beginning of this exchange. Like you don’t know how he’s just as hopeless in this arena with his nonexistent dating life.

“It’s just been a while!” You’re trying to defend yourself but it only makes him laugh that much harder, his hand slapping across his mouth to cover his manic grin and stifle his obnoxious wheezing. It might have been funny if it was anyone else but it just feels pathetic to you; It’s to the point now that the mechanics of making out have totally slipped your mind, not that he needs to know that with how hard he’s already laughing. “I just want it to be good,” you drop your pencil down on the steel table with finality before turning back to the Honda. To save some face, to protect what little bit of pride you still have kicking in your chest, your words take on an indifferent tone. ”Whatever. I’ll just figure it out when the time comes.”

His laughter dies down and no response follows which is honestly fine because you prefer the silence. You assume he’s dropped it, something that’s probably for the best after how he’s been this week. While you might have forgotten the lead-up, the motions of making out, the same can’t be said for knowing how little Katsuki is invested in the topic of your date. He’s made it perfectly clear how much of an idiot he finds Mirio and how you’re an even bigger one for accepting his offer. Telling Katsuki about Mirio started recurring rounds of barely-concealed huffing and little comments at Mirio’s expense (and sometimes yours) before pattering off into a terrible mask of nonchalance. It’s done nothing to hide his random bout of irritation on the subject.

You line up a collection pan under the drain plug, already reaching for the ratchet balanced on the nearby toolbox. Placing the head of the tool against the large bolt, you set to work on turning. You twist and twist and twist your arm counter-clockwise and the garage fills with the familiar sound of metal on metal.

The click of your tool is loud on your ears but it’s not enough to drown out everything with it, especially with the rhythmic pauses you take with each crank. You hear a group of teenagers after one crank, laughing carelessly after a day at the local high school pass the front of the shop. Next, it’s a deep metal clang from the old vending machine in the office section, its weak lights fluttering with the shake of an old machine. Finally, just as you feel the bolt release the majority of its tension and all it will take to have pools of slick oil filling your pan is a single crank, you catch Katsuki’s rough voice carrying through the wind. Your ratchet ends up slipping right through your fingers and clattering on the concrete. The bolt still clings to the valve.

”Practice on me.”

The slam of metal on concrete has you startling, and you straighten your back to your full height—not that you get very far. Pain blooms at the crown of your head from the harsh metal of a rogue pipe beneath the car. “Shit, that hurt—” You cup the spot tenderly, reaching toward the ground so you can scoop up your fallen tool while you hiss in Katsuki’s direction. “I really hope that joke was worth my concussion, asshole.”

He locks his jaw and squares his shoulders, tense and sharp lines replacing the teasing air that usually comes of his mockery, before retaliating again—almost making you drop the ratchet a second time. “‘M not joking,” Katsuki frowns, the pinch of his brow painting the perfect picture of serious.

Your cheeks heat but unlike the flush that comes with crushes and dates and kissing, it’s the kind that comes with being poked at. It feels a little humiliating because he’s barring down, acting like he’s willing to make out with you and for a joke of all things. You clench your fist tight around the ratchet before slamming it back into your toolbox. “You’re not funny, Kat,” you close your eyes for a brief moment, releasing a single rage-filled breath so you don’t blow up from his audacity. “That’s not funny, especially since I was being open with you.”

He casts his head back and groans, loud and frustrated before replying with a sneer that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I know the fumes from this shithole haven’t fucked with your cognitive abilities that much. I said I wasn’t jokin’.”

Tinges of anger still linger deep within your chest but they’re mostly replaced with confusion. It doesn’t make any sense, not in your world at least. “You’re being serious? Why would you offer that?”

His cheeks redden as he processes what you’ve said, where the conversation has gone and then he’s breaking his gaze, swiveling his head to the bustling street outside. He ignores your questions when he finally works through all of the thoughts you can see piling up in his head. “Forget it.”

You aren’t as willing to forget. “Would you really do that for me?”

You step around your toolbox, around the steel table you write all of your orders down on, and you close the distance that separated Katsuki from your work. He doesn’t move when you approach; he stays still and quiet, watching people come and go with dark eyes and a clamped mouth. ”It’s just a dumb fucking kiss,” his rough voice is even more coarse. “I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t willin’.”

Shock doesn’t even begin to describe what you’re going through. Katsuki can shrug off a kiss like it carries no weight but you know that’s not really how he feels. Dating, sex, kissing — it‘s all serious business to him, after a lifetime of watching his parents love each other and seeing the joy and domestic bliss that came out of it. After a lifetime of wanting it for himself. He wouldn’t do this with just anyone.

He’d do it with you, though.

You consider him then, only for a few seconds. You take in his pale hair, his stained cheeks, his large hand dwarfing his little paperback where it holds the page he’s on. Pretty, you recognize because that’s always been true for as long as you’ve known him. Pretty and willing to kiss you.

Your answer leaves as easily as it came to mind. “Okay.”

You catch the subtle ruffle of his hair when he turns to face you again. He considers you now, analyzing you in the same way you had analyzed him. Feeling his eyes on you is too much so you follow in his footsteps; You lamely train your eyes out the door and pretend he isn’t even here, like anything out there is more interesting than this sudden turn of events.

You can’t help but glance at him from the corner of your eyes, and it’s enough to finally evoke a response out of him.

“You gonna get over here or are ya gonna stand around like an idiot?”

It only takes four steps to clear what little space pooled between you two, to be within reaching distance of each other. You don't reach out to him yet; Instead, you wipe sweaty hands down your front, completely at a loss for how to tread these new waters with someone currently glaring holes in between your eyebrows.

“What are you gonna do with your hands?” Business as usual, Katsuki takes on his usually bossy tone. It’s irritating most days but all it does now is put you at ease. You know he’ll take care of you and you know that he’ll be helpful in his own aggressive way.

“My hands? It depends,” you say, because it does. A lot of factors go into hand placement.

He rolls his eyes at you because, even though he’s helping, he’s still Katsuki. “No, it doesn’t ‘depend’,” he quotes the air, his voice in a grating impression of your own. “God, you’re so fucking lucky I’m around.”

He snatches your hands, curling around the limp of your wrists and then tugging unnecessarily harsh until you’re standing in between his parted thighs. He drops a stained hand on his shoulder, ignoring a cry you let out about the grease before twining your leftover fingers with his. You feel the catch of his calluses on your own and despite the pleasant trill that rockets up your palm, it’s immediately overshadowed by the need to fidget away in a fit of stage fright. If Katsuki feels the same, he doesn’t show it.

The hand still in his grip is moved to the back of his head that dips back to meet it. He cards your fingers through the wild mess of hair, curling your fingers around his strands before slipping away to anchor around your elbow. “There. He’ll like it if you do that shit,” Katsuki smirks up at you, cocky when all he did was put your hands on him.

Embarrassingly enough, he might actually have a reason to feel cocky. If it feels even a fraction like this when you touch Mirio then you don’t see how things could go wrong. You notice how it lights you up from the inside; Pops and crackles flare deep in the crevices of your gut the longer your hands are on him.

You’ve touched these parts of him before—felt the curves of his shoulder when patting him on the back and the downy soft of his hair on the rare occasions he lays his head on your lap—but this is the first time it’s inspired anything beyond friendly affection. This is new, feeling your friend in this context. You’re a little shocked by how much you enjoy it.

With little success, you try to ignore how well he fits into your palms. “What now?” You zero in on the material of his shirt but it proves to be just as distracting with how it clings to his torso. Has he always been this built?

He’s so focused on helping, so serious about it that you almost feel a little guilty for the subtle squeeze you give to his arm, taking in how the muscles refuse to cave around your fingers. “You gotta look me in the eyes when you do this shit, or it won’t count.”

You doubt that but you listen anyway because you really don’t want to be caught checking him out when he’s being so nice to help you in the first place. You square your shoulders and dip your head and tear your gaze away from your prodding fingers but his request is easier said than done.

The promise of a kiss as practice, one shared with your best friend no less, is making you feel ridiculous and—if you really examined yourself—extremely nervous. If only you could be as straight-faced as he is; Your mouth stretches into a grin and your belly begins to twitch with suppressed laughter, despite the admittedly valiant attempt to stop both.

His face doesn’t crumble when he notices the shake of your shoulders. Instead, deep red eyes narrow into a glare when he sees your lip caught between your teeth, when he feels the clench of your heated hands on his shoulder and in his hair, and a snarl warps his face. You can’t blame him.

“Fuckin’—stop laughing,” he snaps, his cheeks coloring to match his ears. “I don’t have to do this shit for you. Fucking grow up.”

“Sorry—” You cast your head back to the tin roof of the garage, and you try to regain your composure because he is right. He doesn’t have to do this for you and you should probably be grateful he hasn’t started kicking your ass for daring to laugh at him. A few pulls of air filled with the overpowering smell of gasoline and grease does nothing to quell the jitter of your nerves like it usually does. You're practically wheezing now. “Just give me a second.”

“No, fuck you. I do this shit out of the kindness of my heart and you have the fuckin’ nerve,” — he tries to pry your hands away but you tighten your grip to deter him — “Let go, damn it!“

“Please, Katsuki,” you’re gasping for air but it does help relieve some of the tension that started to leak into your bones. “I’m just nervous, remember?”

That must quell his wrath because hands that sought to push you away lose their will, loosening around where they tried to pry you off. Instead, they find shelter at the curve of your waist. He cups just beneath your rib cage, his fingers locking against doughy flesh, and then pets down your side every time your body jumps from every stifled laugh.

It takes longer than a few seconds, your laughs losing their wind and your smile shrinking into its little half-moon slowly, but it does eventually stop—and when the time comes, you find he’s already staring at you. There’s no scowl or scathing look or pout. All you’re greeted with is an expression that reeks of something gentle and reverent.

It should shock you to see, this sweetness, but most of the surprise comes from how real it feels. You’re still coming off of a rush of endorphins, happy little chemicals that eased you into his gaze, but it doesn’t quite feel like the lingering effects of adrenaline that legitimatizes the glint in his eyes. You know how authentic that expression is because It rests along your tongue and the roof of your mouth whenever you are caught up in your own feelings, filling your throat with a roaring heat that sears your insides with want.

It’s just practice, you stress half-heartedly.

His hands slide down to grip the fat of your hips with strength that surges up his arms, has the blue-green criss-cross of his veins jumping and the muscles of his arms flexing. He pulls you even closer until your thighs press tight against the insides of his.

His torso expands and rubs pleasantly through the thick material of your coveralls and, maybe if you weren’t too busy marveling at the novelty of it, you would have noticed the singular stutter of his breathing when you lean into him even more, squishing your chest against him with the weight of your body. “He’ll do that,” He says, his voice low and rumbling while his eyes bounce around, never staying anywhere for long. “He’ll do that if he isn’t a complete moron.”

Your fingers twist and curl the edges of his hair. It's a necessary distraction from how one of his hands rubs a slow stroke up and down your side. He tilts his head back a bit to maintain eye contact, and you find that you like that, feeling his eyes gazing up at you. A dull thud echoes in the quiet still of the garage; The toe of one of your boots knocks against the tower of tires Katsuki has perched himself on and it’s all because you want to feel his head tip a little further into the cradle of your palm. “How do you know?”

His eyes finally halt, fixed on a singular point on your face, your mouth, with drooping eyelids. Has anyone ever looked at you like that before? He grumbles back a slow and reluctant answer. “I read a lot of Shoujo.”

Normal conditions would call for a round of teasing. He’s never openly admitted to reading those, always telling you to ‘mind your own damn business’ when you ask. It should be ridiculous that someone like Katsuki, who looks like he would be averse to romance in all its forms, indulges in stories about characters falling deeply in love.

It doesn’t feel so absurd now that you’re chest to chest with him and his eyes feel like they’re brand-hot while they trail the shape of your face.

Maybe if you ask nicely, with enough sweetness and pleading, he’ll tell you what it is that he enjoys reading the most. There are endless possibilities in romance; Maybe he reads about enemies falling in love or maybe he sticks solely to meet-cute storylines about starstruck strangers. A secret hope wriggles itself deep in the crevices of your heart, flipping your stomach obnoxiously once more; Maybe, if you’re lucky, he’ll have a soft spot for romance between friends.

The way he’s looking at you now almost makes the last week he’s spent biting your head off worth it. It also makes you forget how you earned this position, the two of you spun around each other. It feels too natural, perfect in the way that he’s meant to have his hands on you and your hands on him.

“Kat?”

“Changed my mind.” For all your sluggish movements and syrupy thoughts, your heart works itself into overdrive when he says that. He doesn’t let you spiral for long. “Close your eyes,” he whispers.

The request causes hesitation. What if this leaves you wrecked to the point that you’ll never be able to get over him? Is this really the type of thing you should do before a date with someone else? What if Katsuki doesn’t like it?

Because it’s Katsuki, he sees all the trepidation flash across your face and makes the decision for you. A hand that’s sat still on your side, one that’s only played with the give of your hip, moves. It ghosts over your waist, slow on its ascent up the side of a breast. Higher, the length of your neck shivers when his calloused graze thin skin. His middle and index fingers extend, parting to fit the width of your eyes before resting over your brow and pulling down. The pads of his fingers are rough here too but also gentle and warm on your eyelids. “Close ‘em.”

Your eyes flutter at the raspy demand. You hear a car fly past the shop and a gust of warm, early September air whooshing through the garage door. The wind ruffles the edges of your hair but never touches your cheek; Katsuki’s hand bats away the humidity, his thumb rubbing dizzying tingles into the skin.

The tickle of his breath results in the swipe of your tongue along your cupid’s bow—you only miss Katsuki’s bottom lip by a centimeter, not that you notice. You work through the jumble of your throat, swallowing around the ball of nerves that grows the longer he hovers. “I thought it didn’t count if I couldn't look you in the eye?”

“Shut up,” he rumbles, nowhere near as scathing as he usually is when he demands your silence. “Couldn’t handle you lookin’ at me like that.”

His breath smells like the sweet-tart of citrus tic tacs, the same ones he refused to share earlier. Giddy is the best way to describe the emotion bubbling up. Looks like you get a taste after all. “Why not?”

Your eyes stay resolutely closed, his mouth stays resolutely shut. You scratch at his scalp a little meanly but the low grunt he lets out is more relaxed than hurt. “C’mon, Katsuki.“ Why wouldn’t he be able to handle you looking at him in any type of way?

His voice is so low on your ears that if you weren’t already hanging off of his words you would have surely missed it. “Ya keep lookin’ at me like that and it’ll be me you’re goin’ on a date with.”

It’s soft, much softer than Katsuki seems capable of, when you feel the first press of his lips.

And It’s good. It’s so good you completely forget the nerves and the implication of his words. They just — whoosh away with the wind of another too fast car and each wet smack of his lips. Everything you know fades out of existence and all you can do is fall into him, leaning more and more of your weight into his soft squeezes and the clenching muscles of his stomach shamelessly. You don’t even have it in you to be embarrassed when your teeth clink or someone bites too hard on plush bottom lips. He takes it all in a stride, almost seems to revel in it as much as you do.

And maybe you weren’t as hopeless as you thought because you seem to match his pace and finesse with little trouble. Katsuki pants and shudders and pulls at you with increasing force. His fingers flex and clench along your body, trailing dangerously low on your back with one hand and slowly rubbing the side of your belly with the other. He whines when you clench his hair in your fist and lean his head back for better access to the curl of his tongue, moans low and rough when your body sags against him and you feel a tell-tale hardness straining against his jeans.

He’s the one that pulls away first. The only thing that stops you from licking into his mouth again is a little shove to your hips and a low croak.

“E—enough,” he clears his throat, and the air of nonchalance he’s imitating would be more believable if he wasn’t running his tongue over swollen lips, if his fingers weren’t twitching to touch more and his eyes weren't trained on the heave of your chest. “You’ve got no reason to be nervous about your dumb fuckin’ date.”

He might be able to change the subject easily but you can’t. You’re dazed, practically swaying in your work boots between his thighs. Date? Nervous? You aren’t nervous anymore and you aren’t thinking about a date with Mirio. Everything seems so far away now, hardly even a blip on your radar. Unimportant. All you have left swirling in your head are ways to get your mouth on him again without seeming too desperate.

“You’re blushing.” You’ve missed the migration of his deep flush because your eyes were closed. The blush has moved from his face and ears down toward the thick of his neck, maybe even the valley of his chest. You trail a finger down one scalding cheek, the same shade of rouge that covers the pert of his nose. He freezes in his pursuit of making distance. “Did you like it that much, Katsuki?”

You should know better than to ask him that and it’s only confirmed when he slaps at the hand on his cheek and forces you back before he jumps to his feet off of his tower of tires. He looms over you once he’s at his full height with a mean snarl that curls back his upper lip. The intention of intimidation falls flat when his eyes still track the swollen mess you have for a mouth.

“As fuckin’ if.” He rips his jacket from the hood of a car, shoving his arms deep into the leather with all the aggression in the world and stomping toward the entrance of the shop with the same amount of ire. “I should’ve known you would pull some shit like that. Should've let you look like the goddamn fool you are in front of your lame ass boy toy.”

Katsuki doesn’t normally leave until your shift ends so he can drive you home. The rush he’s in to leave the garage is startling and even if you committed the cardinal sin of asking Katsuki how he feels, you’re unprepared for the change of pace. You intercept him right at the door, posing yourself as a wobbly-kneed wall that stands between his escape. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but this shitty fuckin’ shop!” He spits it out all mean but he doesn’t push through you to leave like he normally would. He stands with clenched fists and glares down at you even though he’s supposed to be storming out of the garage.

“Okay,” you breathe it out, a little dreamy and a little defeated. You don’t really want him to leave, not when you easily just had the best kiss of recent memory and with the same friend who’s been so aggravated since Mirio made his appearance on your radar. But you know from how he shifts from foot to foot that any conversation about it right now would just make him act like a caged animal. “Alright, Kat. Just one more thing before you go.”

“What do you want now?” His sharp edge dulls itself a bit from curiosity. You hope to god you’re reading the room right.

You steel your resolve and rise to the tip of your toes. With the collar of his jacket cuffed in your fist, you drop a final kiss on the corner of his mouth. He reacts so fast, not even questioning it and already working to move his mouth so it’s placed squarely against yours. The soft pucker of his lips trying so hard to greet your own only builds the hope you buried in your chest.

The smile you give him when you’ve pulled away must be a lot to take in because he avoids it entirely. You don’t let him run for long; You cup the underside of his chin and pull him to face you head-on.

“I’ll call you later, yeah?”

You only get a single half-second of his disbelief before his wide eyes strengthen to their normal steel with that little something from before, that pillow-soft glaze of affection and want. The response he grunts back confirms what you see and what you felt when he held you in his hands and kissed away your thoughts. “Nah, I’ll call you. I have some shit I got to tell you.”

And then he leaves. He nudges you out of the way with a firm grip on your waist before he turns his back to you and marches out the garage door. He never fully looks back either. All you get is a single glance out of the corner of ruby eyes when he fixes a nonexistent fold of his jacket before he leaves you alone with the hum of an archaic vending machine and the phantom impression his hands left on your body.

And you just watch him trudge down the sidewalk. You memorize how the sinking sun paints his hair and the tenseness of his shoulders from how he has a hand shoved in his pocket and his little paperback book clenched in the other. You lose sight of him completely when he passes the dingy corner store you always buy coffee from.

You already have an inclination about what his call will be about. If his goodbye and the reaction to the sweet little kiss you placed on the edge of his mouth are anything to go off of, you really do have nothing to worry about — nothing to worry about because Katsuki is going to put an end to your lovesick misery without the help of Mirio. You can barely contain the excitement from gushing out of every pore.

Your next course of action is pretty much decided then and there and you waste no time once he‘s gone. You claw your phone from the deep pocket of your coveralls, you pull up Mirio’s contact info, and let out your sixth sigh of the afternoon.

Katsuki’s soothed your nerves but, in doing so, he’s left you with a whole new problem. Now you need to figure out the right way to tell Mirio that you can’t make your date because you’re seeing someone else.

#bakugou x reader #Katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x chubby reader #bakugo katuski x reader #bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #katsuki x fem!reader #bakugou x fem!reader #mha x reader #bakugou x you #pls enjoy bakugou as watts and reader as keith #mine!!

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chiwhorei · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝)

𝐚𝐤𝐚: 𝐌𝐲 𝐏𝐑𝐎 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐬!!

pairing: t. amajiki x fem!reader

genre: smut, 18+ mdni

word count: ~1.3k

tags: pervy!tamaki, mean!tamaki, dubcon, degradation, voyeurism, masturbation, tentacles in all of readers holes, dacryphilia, choking

a/n: this is my very late contribution to the whorehouse porn compilation, the rest of this questionable browser history can be found here! strap in because this might be the grossest shit i’ve written so far. no plot, porn is the point here friends.

(cross posted to Ao3!)

hymn: gooey by the glass animals

The first time was an accident, genuinely.

He meant to text you he would be home early, ever the courteous roommate, but it truly just slipped his mind. Surprise would be an understatement when he swings the front door open to the high pitched whines coming from your bedroom.

Curiosity piquing, Tamaki lines his shoes up by the door and follows the noise. He can see the outline of light seeping through your open door and hears another round of cries.

“Hey, are you ok--” His words flop lifelessly on the floor in front of him. Oh.

Oh.

His eyes trail up from the end of your bed. The open laptop propped in between your legs, the bottle of lube sitting next to your knee, your bare thighs and--

“Do you like what you see, Suneater?”

Tamaki flushes, heat starting at the bridge of his nose and spreading across every inch of skin. He should really say something, or better yet, close your fucking door and do the rest of his processing on the other side.

He can’t seem to do anything but stand and stare at the dripping wet toy still being pumping in and out of your cunt. It seems to have completely hypnotized him, watching the way the silicone disappears in between your slick folds, he swears he can see the quiver.

“What do you think about my toy?” Purple and oblong, you pull it all the way out. Tamaki’s stare burns right into the suction cup ridges and slim, curved tip. You drag it in a wet line up your skin, meeting your lips with a pout.

“I picked this one out with you in mind.”

* * *

First time, shame on you.

That’s what they say, but Tamaki finds himself pressing against your doorframe and peering into your room for the 3rd time this week. His feet pull him here like a nasty habit, the crack in your door is far too welcoming.

You left it open just for him.

Tamaki’s ears twitch, forehead tacky with sweat as he presses against the frame. Every time he finds himself in this very same position, shame trickles down his spine like poison.

Every inch of your skin is exposed to his stare. Looking upon you is invasive and slimy and wrong but fuck, with every movement of your toy, pumping in tandem with the hand around his painfully hard cock, the more each stolen glance feels intravenous. Tamaki is addicted.

All he wants to do is touch you. Wrap you in his hold and explore every inch. He wants to know what your skin feels like.

What does your hair smell like up close? He’s only ever been privy to the occasional carryover of strawberry as you walk by him in the kitchen. How do your moans feel vibrating just above his mouth? Would you cry out for him to stop or to keep going?

He’s never stepped closer than the line between carpet and hardwood, but that's really only a technicality.

You feel it, foreign but unmistakable. The touch of something crawling up your leg, soft and sticky. It wraps around your leg, crawling upwards in salacious vines. Your voice rings in Tamaki’s ears. He repeats every syllable like prayer, his invitation.

“I picked this one out with you in mind.”

There’s no movement to stop him, you don’t scream or tell him to fuck off. Your body seems to welcome him, back arching as five quirked fingers wrap around your arms and hips. The popping of suction cups trail from your belly button, dragging against your breasts before you feel pressure at your neck. Your skin will be covered in round bruises in the morning. The kindling in Tamaki’s stomach feels more like a wildfire, shy demeanor melting away. The man in front of you isn’t going to waste any more time hesitating.

“You’re such a little tease. You like fucking with me don’t you, princess?” Tamaki’s question is sneering, his tone cold and unfamiliar.

The tentacle wrapping around your neck squeezes tight enough to make you gasp, he doesn’t waste the opportunity.

He doesn’t really want you to answer him.

As soon as your lips part, your mouth is invaded. The tendril reaches all the way to the back of your throat before it lets up, your jaw already hurting at the stretch. Your vision blurs, the taste of briny-sweet flesh mixes with the salty tears running down your face.

You’re given only a moment to sputter, catching your breath before it’s taken away again, the squeals and cries bubbling in your throat are wasted energy.

“Always leaving your door open, teasing me. I’m not playing your games anymore.” Tamaki’s voice is unwavering, he’s serious.

You wail around the rubbery texture as another tentacle wraps around your breasts, suctioning on the sensitive peaks of your nipples. Tamaki moves closer with each sound he can pull from you, finally breaching the last shreds of privacy and shuffling across the carpet. All five fingers on his right hand are busy probing parts of your pliant body and restraining others. Through the haze you can’t deny how dexterous he is while making a mess of you.

It would be impressive if you could think straight.

Each arm and leg is caught in the reddish-purple web, writhing against his hold only makes Tamaki’s grip tighter.

“I could do anything to this sweet little body, what could you do to stop me?” His words should scare you, but only one thing runs through your foggy head.

“Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop.”

If you could, the scream pressed against your makeshift gag would definitely alert your neighbors to the depravity just a wall away. You feel attention turning to the toy still plugging your weeping hole, a tentacle wrapping around the base and pulling it free with a squelch. From the corner of your eye, you catch the shiny plastic as it’s thrown to the other side of the room, hitting your wall with a hollow thud.

The tip of one tentacle prods at your clit for good measure before poking inside. Fear runs through your blood, cooling when mixed with overwhelming pleasure. Tamaki can reach places you’ve never felt before.

“So tight, so fucking warm.” Tamaki can feel you with each clench of your pussy, sliding in until he can feel tight band of your cervix. He could ruin you if he wanted, he ventures to guess you would let him.

You’re crying in long, fat streaks around the apples of your cheeks. With the help of another set of weaponized fingers, your legs are spread further and pushed to your chest. Tamaki’s cock aches, now ignored in favor of manipulating your body into a new angle so your ass is propped up. Muscles tense as he swipes the tip of his tentacle to trace around your rigid ring of muscle.

“I’ll take every one of these slutty little holes. You’ll feel me on your skin for days.” He promises you, pushing past your resistant muscles, they’re no match.

Your head is swimming now, logic is replaced with the feeling of being so full.

Stimulation assaults your senses from every direction, Tamaki fucking into your body with fatal rhythm. Going farther, deeper, harder. All you’re left with is shaking limbs and muted whines.

It hurts, it feels so good. It’s so disgusting but so hot. You’re meek, bushy roommate has made you little more than a fucktoy with what seems like minimal effort. You’re hurdled to a sloppy wet orgasm faster than ever before.

Tamaki can tell that you’re close, studying the way your eyes screw up and brows furrow before falling over the edge for weeks from the comfort of your door jam. The consuming bliss overtakes your body, every muscle tensing, shaking from exhaustion as the cord pulls tight and snaps with fury. If you could, you would scream out the name of your captor, all you can manage a garbled sound from deep in your chest.

The next few moments find you in pieces. The feeling of emptiness knocks at your hypersensitive body as you’re flipped to balance weakly on your hands in knees. You’re not left alone for long, Tamaki’s just getting started.

He’s never been one to play with his food, but you’re just too tasty.

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