#like my eyes are actually green just around the pupil but blue through the rest of the iris

[eddiebabygirldiaz]

Bold all that apply to you and tag 15 people to do it

Tagged by @lover-of-mine @captain-hen @hippolotamus @trashbaget @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @wikiangela @panbuckley @jesuisici33 @diazass @userdisaster @spotsandsocks @transbuck @prince-buck-diaz @monsterrae1 @cowboy-buck

Thank you beloveds! Muah! 💖

APPEARANCE

i’m over 5’5” // i wear glasses/contacts // i have blonde hair // i prefer loose clothing to tight clothing // i have one or more piercings // i have at least one tattoo // i have blue eyes // i have dyed or highlighted my hair // i have gotten plastic surgery // i have or had braces // i sunburn easily // i have freckles // i paint my nails // i typically wear make-up // i don’t often smile // i am pleased with how i look // i prefer nike to adidas // i wear baseball hats backwards

HOBBIES AND TALENTS

i play a sport // i can play an instrument // i am artistic // i know more than one language // i have won a trophy in some sort of competition (i have a medal the trophy is with the team) // i can cook or bake without a recipe // i know how to swim // i enjoy writing // i can do origami // i prefer movies to tv shows // i can execute a perfect somersault // i enjoy singing // i could survive in the wild on my own // i have read a new book series this year // i enjoy spending time with friends // i travel during school or work breaks // i can do a handstand

RELATIONSHIP

i am in a relationship // i have been single for over a year // i have a crush // i have a best friend i have known for ten years // my parents are together // i have dated my best friend // i am adopted // my crush has confessed to me // i have a long distance relationship // i am an only child // i give advice to my friends // i have made an online friend // i met up with someone i have met online

AESTHETICS

i have heard the ocean in a conch shell // i have watched the sun rise // i enjoy rainy days // i have slept under the stars // i meditate outside // the sound of chirping calms me // i enjoy the smell of the beach // i know what snow tastes like // i listen to music to fall asleep // i enjoy thunderstorms // i enjoy cloud watching // i have attended a bonfire // i pay close attention to colours // i find mystery in the ocean // i enjoy hiking on nature paths // autumn is my favourite season

MISCELLANEOUS

i can fall asleep in a moving vehicle // i am the mom friend // i live by a certain quote // i like the smell of sharpies // i am involved in extracurricular activities // i enjoy mexican food // i can drive a stick-shift // i believe in true love // i make up scenarios to fall asleep // i sing in the shower // i wish i lived in a video game // i have a canopy above my bed // i am multiracial // i am a redhead // i own at least three dogs

Tagging: @elvensorceress @spaceprincessem @shortsighted-owl @bucks118 @oliverstaark @buck2eddie @jeeyuns @anxieteandbiscuits @paranoidbean @transboybuckley @rewritetheending @diazblunt @bigfootsmom @jamiettart @911onabc (sorry if you've been tagged and done it already!)

[tathrin]

You know I have to ask about Animorphs: Back to the Beginning

Ahh okay, so I honestly don't think I'll ever actually write this one because frankly, one rewrite-the-series-AU is enough for me thank you (and also everyone and their mother has already at least toyed with the concept of "what if one/some of the Animorphs went back to the start of things?" fics anyway) ...so I'm just going to post everything I do have:

"Ram the Blade Ship," I said.

There was a tingle, something like a shock although not painful, that ran through me. I drew my hand away from the side of a blue box—of the Blue Box.

<Go now,> a voice in my head said. <Only remember this—never remain in animal form for more than two of your Earth hours. Never! That is the greatest danger of the morphing! If you stay longer than two hours you will be trapped, unable to return to human form.>

"What," I said, unable to process what my eyes were seeing. "What is—where?"

"Oh man," said a voice that was both more familiar than my own and yet strange. "Oh man, this is—this can't be happening. Jake…"

It was Marco, but he sounded wrong. Sounded…sounded young.

I looked down at my hand, at my weirdly small fingers. I looked up at the bright green eyes of Elfangor, staring at me.

<You must go!> he said. He was scared—I could feel it, a dread crawling up my spine that was even more familiar than my too-small fingers and Marco's too-young voice. His main eyes turned away from me to stare up at the sky. <Visser Three! He comes,> Elfangor said.

I was shaking, but not because of Visser Three.

"Oh man," Marco said again. His eyes were as wide as saucers, the rims of white around the dark pupils standing out like headlamps against his brown cheeks. "Jake…does he mean…?"

I couldn't speak. I could only nod. Because if this was Elfangor—if this was the moment I thought it was, the moment it couldn't possibly be, then that wasn't Visser Three up there. That was Visser One. Only he wasn't, yet. And that meant…

<Run!> Elfangor said again. He sounded frustrated with our paralysis, but mostly he just sounded scared. Had he always sounded this scared, and I hadn't noticed it through my own fear? Or was my own fear what was coloring the sound of his voice in my head, now?

<Visser Three is the most deadly of your enemies,> he was explaining worriedly. <Of all Yeerks he alone has the power to morph. The same power you now have. Run!>

"Rachel?"

It was Tobias's voice. He didn't sound too young, because his thought-speak voice had never aged the way our human voices had aged, but the twisted pain and hope and love in his voice made him sound somehow even more unfamiliar than Marco did, here on the other end of adolescence. Or maybe it was just that Tobias was speaking aloud, which he so rarely did.

"No, we'll stay with you," said a voice that I heard almost every night as I tossed myself awake, a voice that was young and strong and already so, so brave in the face of dangers that she still didn't understand, dangers that she'd died facing down with her head held high.

"Maybe we can help," said Rachel, and the world seemed to stop around me.

<No,> Elfangor said, although I barely heard him through the roar that was Rachel drawing breath to protest so close beside me. The roar of Rachel breathing. <You must save yourselves. Save yourselves and save your planet! The Yeerks are here.>

I didn't look up; I couldn't look away from the sight of my cousin, alive.

Rachel, alive.

She was staring at the sky, and I could see Cassie—so young, so scared!—beside her, looking up as well, but for once I didn't have any attention to spare for the girl that I had once thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, because I was looking at the girl I'd gotten murdered instead.

I was looking at Rachel, and she was alive.

It was Marco who jolted into action, who managed to see that bright clear line stretching out ahead of him enough to pull his eyes away from the sight of a living, breathing Rachel Berenson while Tobias and I were still staring, dumbfounded and disbelieving.

"Run with us," he said to Elfangor. "You can heal, and we'll be able to fight the Yeerks better with you than on our own."

<If I run, they will chase me,> Elfangor said. <If I do not die here, they will never stop hunting me. They will burn this human city and everything in it to the ground to find me. You will die, and I will die, and the Yeerks will win.> One of his eye stalks turned to stare into the darkness of the construction site, and I had a moment to wonder if he was thinking about other options—thinking about what he'd really come to this place seeking, before he'd found all of us instead—but his sad smile remained fixed on Marco's face. If he thought about changing his mind, running, it wasn't a thought he entertained for long. <Wounds or no, I cannot live through this night. Visser Three will not allow it, and I will not allow Earth's only chance at hope to die alongside me. You must run.>

"Jake, I…I think we need to," Cassie said, and her eyes were on the dark shapes in the sky and her voice was small.

"Yeah," I said, and the response was as automatic as it was true. I licked dry lips and looked at Elfangor. "Okay," I said. "We'll fight them. The Yeerks. We'll fight them, and we'll stop them. I promise."

"Yeah," Marco said, laughing shakily, "it'll be just like riding a bike. Unless we don't get out of here right now, and get flash-fried by the Yeerks instead." Despite his words, he still paused to look at Elfangor. His face was turned away from mine so I couldn't see the expression that passed across it, but I saw him nod once—maybe in respect, maybe in forgiveness, maybe in farewell—before he punched my shoulder and turned to run.

I forced myself to my feet, feeling as awkward and out of place in my own body as though I were wearing an unfamiliar morph. "Tobias, pull it together," I said, and then Rachel's hand was in mine and Cassie's was in hers and we were running, Marco on our heels, and my brain whirling in a million different directions at once but somehow amidst every thought and fear and scream inside my head, all I could focus on was the feel of Rachel's hand—warm, solid, alive—against my own.

I glanced back once and almost tripped over my suddenly clumsy feet. Rachel kept me upright—even then, she was strong enough to do her own running while looking after Cassie and me, too; words that I had spoken so many years ago they had happened in a different lifetime came back to me suddenly, the boastful swagger of a teenage boy trying to show-off in front of his crush and sounding like a sexist dweeb in the process, and I almost laughed.

Instead I shouted, "Tobias! Move!"

He was still crouching beside Elfangor—beside his father—and for a minute I was worried that he wasn't going to get up, that he was going to wait too long this time and die right there in the construction site before he even got his wings. Tobias had his hand on Elfangor's cheek, and Elfangor had his hand on the back of Tobias's head and all four of his eyes were closed as though in meditation or some kind of trance. A flash of memory reminded me that Tobias had stayed behind the first time we'd met Elfangor, too, and had gotten some kind of memory-download that had told us so much of what we'd needed to know in those first, frantic days—but we didn't need that now, we knew so much more now than what Elfangor could tell him. There was no reason to dally this time except for sentiment, and we didn't have time for Tobias to waste on that. I understood the impulse, of course I did, but this was a war and Tobias knew better—!

Then Elfangor's head rocked back, all four of his eyes spinning to focus on Tobias's face, and finally Tobias pushed himself to his feet, his fingers trailing behind him for another half-second yet while Elfangor's frail Andalite hand reached out almost as though trying to grab and stop him from leaving. Then Tobias pulled away and Elfangor's hand fell and Tobias was running, stumbling heavily over the loose junk and potholes of the construction site and over his own unfamiliar human feet.

A beam of bright red light snapped on. The spotlight from the Bug fighter was joined by a second, both fixed on Elfangor and his ship. The Yeerks didn't know that there was anything else in here they should be concerned about, didn't know there was anything else here that was a danger to them—but we weren't yet, were we? My head was still reeling, trying to figure out what was going on, what had happened and even more importantly than why, how—but if my hands were small and Marco's voice was young and Rachel was alive, then we probably didn't have any morphs we could use yet, did we? That would mean we weren't a danger, not yet—but we would be.

I silently promised whatever messed-up craziness was going on that no matter what, we would be.

The five of us crouched together behind a low, crumbled wall. As the Bug fighters descended, I looked sideways at Marco and Tobias.

Marco mouthed a three-word question, and I shook my head. "Elimist?" I hissed back, and shrugged. It was the only thing that made sense—not that anything did make sense, but that was the only thing that came close, even after everything.

"But why?" Marco whispered.

I shook my head again. I didn't know. I didn't know anything.

But Rachel was crouching only a few inches away from me and she was alive. I wasn't sure that there was anything else that mattered, next to that.

As the Blade Shipe descended, bringing both its old familiar chill and the newer, stranger sensation of a deja vu beyond anything I had ever experienced in my life—we had just seen that ship, had just rammed that ship, and now here were both were, somehow back at the moment of our very first meeting—my gaze kept going back and forth between it and my cousin. My living, breathing cousin. There was fear on her face, a fear that I could barely remember on the other side of the bravado that she had so long ago adopted in its stead, but her jaw had the same stubborn set I knew from so many fights and losses. How had anyone ever looked at this girl and seen anything but a warrior?

How had anyone ever looked at her and thought they could send her off to die?

When Cassie started to scream, I was so startled I almost shrieked myself. It had been so long since any of us had been so unaccustomed to fear as to scream because of it that I froze, unsure of what to do.

It was Marco who leaned across me and clamped his hand over her mouth, Marco who hissed, "Quiet, or we're dead!" in her ear. Cassie stopped screaming and swallowed, but I could see her shaking. I put a hand on her shoulder and nodded at Marco, letting him know that I had it from here—that I was functional, ready to deal.

He raised his eyebrows at me but nodded and let go of Cassie, sinking back into his crouch. I put my other hand on his shoulder, a silent thank you—or maybe just the need to know that he was real, that even if this was all really happening at least I wasn't alone.

I heard Elfangor's voice in my head, telling me things I already knew about the Hork-Bajir. I looked the other way, towards Tobias where he was crouched at the end of the line of Animorphs. His eyes were fixed on Elfangor, but his fingers were wrapped around Rachel's. From the tightness of his grip, I doubted that he was ever going to let go.

"Did you hear that?" Cassie whispered. "Please, tell me you all heard that too!"

Rachel nodded. If Tobias's white-knuckled grip hurt, she didn't show it. "Yeah," she said.

Elfangor continued speaking, telling us how the Hork-Bajir had been enslaved (but not the role the Andalites had played in their suffering, of course) and that they were to be pitied.

"Pity. Right," Rachel said grimly. "They're walking killing machines. Look at them!"

I didn't look at the Hork-Bajir. I looked at Rachel, jarred by the uncharacteristic words she'd spoken—but then I realized, we didn't yet know better. We didn't understand what being a Controller meant, didn't understand what the Hork-Bajir had suffered. We hadn't met Jara Hamee and Ket Hapek. We hadn't met Toby, or any of the free Hork-Bajir. They didn't have a valley yet. They didn't have hope.

I swallowed hard, and fought the urge to be sick. This was too much. It had been too much to handle the first time, too, but in a different way. This was…

This was too much.

I stared at the Taxxons as they crawled out of the ships, my eyes unfocused and my brain far away. I distantly heard Marco mutter, "Pity them more, I think," but I wasn't thinking about the Taxxons. I was trying to remember every detail I could about this night, about the first time I'd lived through it. That was weird, because I'd once thought that I'd remember every single second of it with perfect clarity for as long as I lived—and in a way I did, but in another way I didn't, either. Memory was malleable, and changed with time. That was something I'd learned during the months after the war, when we'd all been struggling to recall dates and details and the neat order of events in order to explain them to other people, but I don't think I'd realized how soft memory really was until I was living one again as if it was for the first time.

The Yeerks had spotted us, and we'd had to run, and Chapman had ordered us killed. That was after Elfangor had died, though; it had to have been, because we all remembered watching that. All remembered watching Visser Three kill him—eat him. So we weren't actually in danger until Elfangor was dead—but what had triggered our discovery? I didn't remember, but somehow I thought it was something I'd done. Had I sneezed?

Why didn't I remember something this important?

The warmth of Elfangor's courage welled-up inside me like sunlight, like childhood. It made me feel safe and warm and whole in a way I hadn't felt since…well, maybe since this very night. Or a few days after it, at least. It was strange. It made me feel like a kid again.

Oh man, we were kids again. We couldn't even morph. This was insane…

But Rachel was alive. And there in the dark in the construction site, with a Hork-Bajir sniffing the air only a few feet away from me, Elfangor moments from death, I made a private vow to myself that she was going to stay that way this time, even if it killed me.

Was that why I was here? Was the Ellimist going to let me make a trade?

Or maybe it wasn't the Ellimist. Maybe it was someone else.

Well, if Crayak wanted me he could have me this time, if I got to save Rachel. I'd traded my life away in one of his monstrous games before and I was willing to do it again. But then why were Marco and Tobias here, too? Cassie and Rachel were living this for the first time, but Marco and Tobias weren't. Why? What was the difference?

Was it because the three of us had been on the Rachel, and they hadn't? Did that mean that down in the ocean right now, Ax was his future self too?

Another possibility hit me like ice water. Ax hasn't been himself when we'd rammed the Blade Ship. Did that mean The One was here, too?

Visser Three wrenched my attention back to the present—or the past—or whatever this was. Maybe it was a hallucination. They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die; was that what this was? Was I going to relive my whole life from the moment of Andalite contact on up to the moment I died, aware of every mistake I'd ever made but unable to correct them?

But no, we weren't trapped in our old roles—we'd already changed things; had said things we couldn't have known to say the first time, or done little things differently, like Tobias sitting with Elfangor a few seconds longer or Marco covering Cassie's mouth when I failed to stop her scream. We weren't just walking through our parts. We were really here, really living this.

If this was real. If this wasn't just some game of Crayak's to torment us, or the Ellimist's to…well, to serve some illusory "greater good" of his own that was effectively going to also probably be torture. There was no way of knowing, so the only thing we could do was treat it like it was real. Like it was happening.

Like we were really here, again.

"What the…" Rachel said, living this moment for the first time with all the confusion and horror that came with that. "Isn't that an Andalite?"

She was looking at Visser Three. I looked at him too, and familiarity allowed me to see things I hadn't the first time when I'd been shaking in shock and terror. Visser Three walked out of the Blade Ship haughty and proud, but he was scared too. I could recognize the fear on his face, in the way he held his tail blade. Even with all his minions around him, weapons at the ready and his hated foe wounded and fallen, Visser Three was still scared of Elfangor. Still worried that the great Andalite war-prince had one last trick up his nonexistent sleeve.

I smiled grimly. If you only knew…

<Only once has a Yeerk been able to take an Andalite body,> Elfangor said. <There is only one Andalite-Controller. That one is Visser Three.>

I wondered if there was some way to get oatmeal into the Visser's feeding grounds. Maybe I should have balked at the thought of doing that to Alloran, but if anyone understood the idea of collateral damage in a war, it was him. He'd appreciate the ruthless efficiency, if not the irony. The question was whether the Visser would even ingest it when he stepped on the grass, and whether it would have the same effect on an Andalite Host that it did on human ones. Questions to ask Ax when we fished him out of the ocean, maybe, providing that he was Ax when we did…

The Visser was blustering at Elfangor, and I saw Tobias wince.

"What?" I hissed.

"Ax," Tobias whispered back. "I didn't tell him…"

I realized that the Visser had been boasting about destroying the Dome Ship, about killing everyone on board. Ax—Elfangor's little brother—had survived, but Elfangor didn't know that. We wouldn't learn that for a month, yet. I guess Tobias was wishing he'd told Elfangor that Ax was still alive, even though there would have been no way for him to explain how he knew that, or how he even knew who Ax was. I wasn't sure it would have done anything but confuse Elfangor if he had, but Tobias clearly felt guilty. I couldn't tell from his face, of course, which sported the usual expressionless mask that was his default expression when he was in human morph (although he wasn't in morph now, I reminded myself with a jolt), but his shoulders were hunched in a way that telegraphed his emotions despite the blankness of his face.

"What?" Rachel asked. "Tell who what?"

Tobias shook his head without looking away from Elfangor. Rachel didn't push for an explanation; she was too busy watching the drama playing out between the Andalite and the thing in an Andalite's body.

I watched it too, although I'd seen it before. Elfangor's defiant last stand—and was it bravery that drove him to his feet, a warrior's pride refusing to let him die on his knees? Or did he know that making Visser Three lose his temper was the best way to guarantee that he would be killed rather than infested?

Maybe it was a little bit of both.

Attacking the Bug fighter with his ship was definitely a ploy to get the Yeerks to destroy his ship rather than let (more) Andalite technology fall into Yeerk hands, though. The strategy of that move was as clear and plain as anything Marco had ever laid-out for the rest of us, now that I saw it in hindsight. I wondered what happened to the Escafil device, and kicked myself for not thinking to take it away with me when we ran. There was no sign of it out there now, of course—if there had been, the Visser would surely have taken it and this war would have gone very differently—but the first time I'd been here, I'd been too busy running for my life to think about it, and this time I'd been too busy reeling from the realization that I was here, that this was happening at all.

Dammit. I could have spared us all so much trouble if I'd been a little faster on the uptake…

"This isn't real," Cassie whispered as the Visser began to morph, "This isn't real."

It was real. And I was really here. Again.

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, as though I could blot-out what was happening—or maybe make it sink-in better, so that I wouldn't screw-up again. I couldn't afford to miss another chance to make things better, not if I was going to keep everybody alive this time.

Holy shit. Could I maybe even save Tom?

I forced myself to shove that thought aside. I had spent so much energy trying to save my brother the first time I'd fought this war, and it had cost us all…so, so much. Too much. I couldn't let myself fall into that trap again. Tom was a Controller, which meant Tom was lost. I had to accept that. I couldn't change anything that had happened before this night.

But I could damn sure change everything that came after.

"No, no, no," I heard Cassie whispering, and I turned instinctively to comfort her—even after everything, I turned instinctively to comfort her—but Rachel was there first, wrapping an arm around Cassie's shoulder and pulling her close.

"Don't look," Rachel said. There were tears running down her face, but she didn't turn her head away from the gruesome sight before us. Her other hand was still laced with Tobias's, and even though he was the one who'd lived through all this before I could tell that it was still Rachel lending him strength—maybe even more than then.

After all, then he'd just been scared. Now, he understood what he was really losing tonight and how much more he might still have to lose.

Visser Three opened his mouth wide and I closed my eyes. Memory might be malleable, but the moment that followed this was one that was etched indelibly on my brain. I remember jumping to my feet, ready to fight—ready to get us all killed stupidly, pointlessly. Ready to throw away Elfangor's sacrifice. I knew better now, but I wasn't sure that I trusted myself to sit quietly through his death if I had to actually watch it again.

So I closed my eyes, and I did not see Elfangor-Sirinial-Shamtul fall. But I couldn't close my mind to his scream any more now than I could before.

That cry of despair was another thing I remembered perfectly.

We sat and watched as the Yeerks congratulated each other and milled around, laughing and bragging and celebrating the death of their enemy. I wondered when they were going to spot us, and I shifted up onto my toes, ready to run—but they didn't.

Cassie was weeping silently into Rachel's shoulder, and Tobias had tears pouring down his expressionless cheeks, and Rachel's eyes shone wetly in the dull reflection from the spotlights, and Marco had one hand pressed so tight to his mouth that I could practically see the bones of his hands flexing from the tension, and the only sound I could hear was the laughter of the Controllers around us.

Why weren't they chasing us? What was I missing?

The Visser dispatched a few Controllers to search the wreckage (not that there was much wreckage) and a familiar human in a suit jacket ordered a few other humans and Hork-Bajir to stay behind on guard while they did. We would need to try and slip away quietly before a patrol caught us—but why hadn't they spotted us already?

I caught Marco's eye and raised my eyebrows in an exaggerated pantomime of confusion. He raised his back and pointed at the hand over his mouth, like that should explain everything—and then I remembered. Marco had thrown-up the first time. That was what the Hork-Bajir had heard. That was why they'd found us, chased us.

Marco wasn't going to throw-up this time. By now, we'd all seen so many more horrors than the sight of Elfangor being eaten. I felt sick, sure, but it was a familiar feeling. A small one, an expected one. I'm sure it was the same for Marco—and he wasn't taking any chances, the hand over his mouth said without speaking. He remembered exactly why the Yeerks had almost caught us this night the first time we'd lived it (had probably never stopped re-living it, the way I re-lived so many of my flaws and failures from the war) and he wasn't going to let that happen again.

I wasn't the only one who was determined to avoid repeating the things that had gone wrong the first time. I glanced sideways at Tobias's hawk-sharp, tear-filled eyes and guessed that I wasn't the only one who'd made a certain vow tonight, either.

Good, I thought savagely, as I heard the familiar laugh of my former vice principal trail the rest of the Controllers back up into the Bug fighter, we'll do this together. Your move, Crayak—or whoever you are. I stared as the Yeerks flew back into the night, my brain already whirring with plans.

Your move.

# # #

The very first night, Tobias, Jake, and Marco will discuss how to stage the rescue mission to Ax, and worry/wonder about whether it's Ax they'll find down there or not, and whether they should risk the latter right now when Rachel and Cassie are so unused to battle; but what choice do they have? If it is The One, they need to know right away, because that's another big threat to deal with…and if it's their friend, they want to get to him asap, particularly before Ax tries to come find them with no human morph for operational security—and determine that having Tobias claim that "Elfangor told him" will serve as an excuse for why he knows where Ax is. (Not that he knows exactly where Ax is; he wasn't even there, the first time, and while Jake and Marco were they don't exactly have whale-implanated navigation knowledge to use, so they'll pour over charts and do their best to figure it out). At that point Tobias will also brusquely bring up whether or not he should become a nothlit on purpose. Jake will be horrified; Marco will grimace but nod thoughtfully, because he's been wondering that himself. Tobias points-out that his being a nothlit was very helpful, especially once the Elimist gave him back his morphing. Jake counters that they can't rely on the Elimist doing that again because they don't know what the rules are of the game they're stuck in, and whether or not the Elimist will be able to interfere like that…or be willing to. Tobias gives his little bird-shrug and says that the Elimist seemed to go to a lot of effort to have me around, I don't think he'll be willing to lose me to hawk-form permanently. Jake flat-out refuses; Marco is more thoughtful, but eventually says that it's too big a risk to count on the Elimist. Not until they know more. Once the Elimist actually shows up, and they can try and get as many answers out of that bastard as they ever have, they can reassess. But for now there's too much chance of Tobias taking himself out of the fight for good, and they can afford that less than they can not having a morph-capable nothlit hawk on their team. Tobias protests, and Jake blurts out a question about Tobias doing it on purpose the first time? Tobias turns away and says no, he didn't. But…he certainly set himself up for that, yeah, he knows. He's never been comfortable in his life; being a hawk was, in a lot of ways, easier. Especially before he knew what hardships being a hawk full-time would entail, but even then…even then it was still easier than being him. No one says anything to that for a while. 

It's Marco who finally breaks the silence, saying that it's more important that Tobias be able to morph than that he be able to fly…more important that he be able to morph than that he be himself. He accepts that Tobias is more hawk than boy; he just refuses to lose a valuable morph-capable warrior to personal comfort. Tobias nods, accepting that without admitting whether or not he'd prefer to be a bird or a boy if given the choice with all else being equal. Jake and Marco decided not to press him for that answer.

Jake still thinks that it's a strong possibility that Tobias will let himself be pushed into a situation where he gets stuck in the hawk morph, though; thinks that on some level, Tobias thinks that he's worth more as a bird than a boy…and that after so many years with wings, probably is more comfortable in the hawk's body, which he thinks of as his own, than the one he was born with, which he clearly feels trapped by. He thinks that on some level, Tobias is recklessly confident that the Elimist will indeed play deux ex morphina again if (when?) Tobias gets trapped in morph…and might be dangerously relying on that assumption. But he lets the subject pass, for now. He knows Tobias won't risk trapping himself before they rescue Ax, at least, which means that it's not a priority to deal with yet. Then—and only then—does Tobias confess one very good reason why he shouldn't trap himself as a nothlit: he acquired Elfangor. Marco and Jake both stare at him, jaws dropped. Tobias doesn't duck his head the way he would have if he were the boy he looks like but instead stares them down with his dead predator eyes. Yeah, he says. It just—it seemed like the thing to do, to get an Andalite morph while we had a chance. It's not one we can use lightly, I know, because the Visser will recognize Elfangor immediately…but. It still seems useful, to be able to show the other Controllers an Andalite who isn't a kid from time to time…

Also, Marco points out coldly, if Ax isn't himself anymore, having a bigger and stronger Andalite who can potentially kick his ass around isn't going to hurt anything. Tobias agrees quietly, and Marco realizes that he's not the only one who thought of that; he smiles grimly. "We're all so fucked-up, you know that right?" he says, and then other two break into bitter laughter as they nod. "Okay. Let's figure out what morphs to get first, then. I feel…well, honestly I feel more naked than I do in my stupid morphing suit, not having anything swimming around in my DNA that I can turn into."

It's Jake who looks at Tobias and says, "You went to Cassie's barn already, didn't you."

Tobias looks away and shrugs. "Yeah," he says, defiance lacing his words instead of apology. "Not like I don't know how to get inside, is it? Even if having to do it without wings is harder."

Jake sighs. "Next time one of us wants to get a morph from Cassie's barn, how about we tell her first?"

"Sure," says Tobias. Jake sighs again. "Okay. So…you think an Andalite can restrain a tiger?"

Marco grins.

# # #

*If you do continue writing this, remember that Cassie is a sub-temporal anomaly (source: Megamorphs—Back To Before) who is "grounded" in time and will break-down any alternate timeline she is in. You can write around this by simply having her know/sense things (things "feel right" when they happen the way they should, etc) and have her be uneasy when things take big twists from the original timeline (e.g. when David comes to school, Cassie will shy away from him and be unable to explain why the mere sight of this boy she doesn't even known fills her with dread; Rachel can make some dismissive statement about him being "a creeper" because she's heard him talking, or heard other people talking about things he's said, and that Cassie is just such a good judge of character that she probably picked-up on it instinctively even without hearing the gossip about "that pervert"--mention him being caught trying to peep in the girl's locker room, maybe). If/when the Ellimist shows up, Tobias/Jake/Marco should immediately confront him about "his meddling," which will leave him shaken and confused (or at least, he seems that way to them; they decide they don't trust that he's actually surprised, because it might all still be one big game of his, but they do allow the possibility that he is surprised, and this is something else—maybe a game of Crayak's, maybe something to do with The One) and it is when they have to explain wtf is going on and why they're all shouting at this being like they know him, that the boys have to tell Rachel and Cassie what's going on with the time travel and explain why they got time shifted, but the two of them didn't…which they don't know, but suspect is because of something to do with ramming the Blade Ship. "Maybe it created a Sario Rip," Jake said, "or maybe it was something else, something to do with the creature that had taken over Ax…" and then they have to explain all of that.

Except perhaps Tobias has broken-down and told Rachel earlier? Yes, I think I like that…

They have a meeting in Rachel's bedroom, probably relatively early on, and Rachel stops Tobias before he can leave and asks him what's going on. He breaks down and tells her. She rolls with it surprisingly well; when asked, she gives a brittle laugh and says nothing else has made sense since the night they were in the construction site, why not time travel? And it explains a hell of a lot, frankly. Although she still has questions—like why were only the boys sent back? (Suspicious glare that hooks him like talons.) Why didn't you take Cassie and I along? Tobias explains that they didn't do any of this on purpose, and Rachel is the last person they would have left out of something this huge, which mollifies her some, although she still stubbornly wants to know why.

He hesitates, then explains numbly that they chose not to take Cassie along because she was the only one of them that had a real life after the war (then has to tell Rachel what all their lives were, and she laughs and agrees and laughs harder than ever at Marco's, which is the easy and painless one to talk about; is a little taken aback when told about Jake's but rolls with it; accepts Cassie's with a fond, proud smile; is confused about Tobias saying that he "flew away," so he has to explain that he was a nothlit in the original timeline; and then asks, Okay and what about me? What was I doing? Tobias is silent for a long, long time, then he says quietly, You weren't around to come with us. Why not? Rachel demands. He hedges, not wanting to say it, but she presses the point. Finally he meets her eyes and says hoarsely, You weren't around to be around, anymore. Rachel goes still. I died? she asks in a small voice. Tobias can't say it, but he nods, his eyes full of tears and his face actually twisted up in emotion. Rachel nods, swallows, and asks, Was it a good death? No, says Tobias. And there is no doubt in his words. No. A small, sad smile crosses Rachel's face and she says, I mean, was it a brave death? Did it…did I matter? Tobias takes her hand and says, you mattered more than anyone.

For a moment they're quiet, then Rachel says "Thank you." After a minute she draws a deep breath and says, "Tobias? Were you…did you like me?" He pulls his hand away but says, "Yes. More than anyone." Rachel nods, not trying to meet his eyes. "Did you…" She laughs nervously, and says, "Wow, I feel like such an idiot, but I…did you…I mean, like…wow. I guess it's stupid to be nervous saying this, given all…you know, everything, but I'm still…well, like. Did you…did you love me?" "Yes," Tobias says without a second of hesitation, and there are tears on his face and he won't look at her and his hands are clasped together in his lap so tight that the bones are almost visible through the skin, hooked together like a predator's hard talons more than a boy's soft hands. "I know you don't—I mean, I've been trying not to—I'm sorry if I've made it weird, I know we haven't…I know you aren't, like, the Rachel I knew, but…" 

"Am I so different?" Rachel asks wistfully. "No," Tobias says, a soft smile on his face. It looks so different from how he normally looks these days, more like the boy he used to be before the construction site, before the war, but without the sadness that seemed so ever-present then, too. "No, you're really not different at all. Less experienced yet, I guess, but still…still you. You've always been you. The war didn't—doesn't—really change you all that much, I think. It just lets you be yourself, more, in some ways. It hardens you, I mean, like it did to all of us, but you…you're Rachel. You've always been Rachel. The brave one, the strong one, the girl who will stand between her friends and danger and say 'no, fight me instead,' the one who'll throw herself into horrors if it means sparing someone else. That's always been you. The war just…gave you a chance to prove it, I guess. But no, you're not different. Not in any way that matters." 

"Oh," says Rachel. For a while she doesn't say anything at all. He adds gently, "That's why it's been hard for me, remembering that—well, that the me-and-you that I know doesn't exist here. Because you're just so familiar that…well, it's easy to remember Cassie isn't the Cassie she ends up being, where I'm from. But you're…you're so Rachel, it's hard for me. But I'll try harder. I'm sorry. I don't want to make things weird for you. I get it, I promise, I know you don't like me—aren't the girl who ends up liking me, and may never be, and I don't think that you, like, owe me or anything sick like that, I really am sorry, I promise I will try to be less weird about—" 

"No," Rachel says, "No that's okay. I mean…I do like you." She's blushing, picking at her cuticles, head down and hanging behind the curtain of her hair, but even as she chews nervously on her lip Tobias can see a smile poking through around the edges. "Not…not the way you like me, I mean. But I… oh my gosh, I can't believe I'm saying this? But like, I also kind of feel like an idiot for being nervous about saying this, when you've just said you love me? So I guess I'll just…yeah. Okay. So I, uh, I like you too, yeah. I already, um, already had a crush on you, you know? Before…you know, before? Um, if you didn't know. Yeah. Totally…totally a major crush on you, back then. And then, like…all this Animorphs stuff? I mean…you're just, you're really…I like you a lot, okay? Not…not the way you do me, at least…" She swallows. "At least not yet. But I…I think I'd like it if you gave me time for that?" 

"You…what?" Tobias is confused. "You…you knew who I was? Before?" "Uh, duh?" Rachel says, finally looking up at him, and her nerves have been mostly superceded behind amusement. "What, I never told you that before?" Tobias shakes his head. "After I…after I became the hawk, we didn't really…I mean…you talked about me before, yeah. About noticing me. You…told me things about me that you couldn't have known if you hadn't been paying attention, but I…I never realized it was a crush." Rachel blushed but also smiled. "Dummy," she says and takes his hand. Tobias smiles at her. "Yeah," he admitted happily, "I am." 

Later (different scene) Rachel will ask Tobias if they should tell Cassie. Says she feels terrible not telling her, but…but what if she doesn't believe me? Or what if telling her screws something up?  I'm not the one that knows the future—or the past-that-happened-in-the-future, or however we're talking about this—so I don't know, Tobias. I don't know what to do, but she's my best friend, I can't keep this secret from her…can I? Should I? 

Tobias thinks about it for a while; not hesitating, just thinking. Pondering it. Rachel doesn't interrupt him. For as impatient as she can be about some things (most things), she's always been patient with him. Not in a grudging way, with her impatience gnawing at her for action like it does sometimes with Jake, but as though she trusts his thoughts enough to give him time for them to finish. Like she wants to hear what he really thinks, not just the first thing that pops out of his mouth so she can fly off and do whatever she wants in response. So he sits, and he thinks, and she sits with him and waits. And finally he says, No. I don't…I don't think we should. Cassie is…she's a good person. He stops, chewing on his lip, struggling to get the words out. 

"Well duh," says Rachel, grinning, almost laughing, but Tobias shakes his head. "That's…that's what I mean," he says quietly. "She's a good person. The best of us, in that way. In the sense of…well, wanting to do the nice thing, above all. Which isn't always the right thing." Rachel goes still at that, her eyes fixed on his face. There's a troubled expression on hers, but she doesn't interrupt. She still trusts him; she's still listening. The problem is that Tobias doesn't know how to say the words he needs to share. He tries anyway: "There were a few points where she…where she was nice to the point of maybe doing the wrong thing," he says softly. "Never in a way where…well, it was more shortsighted than anything. And it ended up being the right thing, sometimes, in the end. Maybe almost all the times." He shrugs, that awkward little hunched-up motion that makes him look more like a bird than a boy. "But it still…it didn't always feel that way at the time, when the rest of us were looking at the big picture and the sacrifices it demanded, and Cassie was trying to be kind. To be good. Good doesn't…it doesn't always win a war." 

Rachel nods, but there's a look on her face that Tobias doesn't like. There's fear there, but it doesn't seem to be a fear of him. There's not enough surprise there for that. There's a sense of realization about the look on her face, maybe even of horror, but it's not directed at him. It's directed at something within. Tobias is reminded of the conversations he and Future Rachel had near the end of the war, when she talked about how far she'd gone and how far she was afraid she was still willing to go. And the conversations when she stopped being afraid of that, too. He wonders if Rachel has already started having those thoughts, even this early. He wonders if that's because of him, because of what he's told her…or if she was always starting to think about that this young. It's not a question he can ask because it's not a question she can answer, so he says nothing and pretends instead that he hasn't seen; that he hasn't guessed. 

He says instead, "I worry that if we tell Cassie how much of the future we know, she'll want to know…well, things that she's not ready to hear. Things she's not ready to accept." He looks at Rachel, and he realizes that even before she went down into the Yeerk Pool for the first time, even before she got her first morph, she never flinched away from the sharp hawk's glare in his eyes. "We're all going to do—have done—terrible things, make terrible choices. Even with everything Jake and Marco and Ax and I know, we're still going to have to make terrible choices. Maybe even moreso, since we're going to be so much more informed about those choices this time."

For a long moment he's silent. Rachel reaches out and takes his hand and while Tobias's face doesn't change, inside he smiles. "I've worried sometimes what you're going to think of me when those choices come," he confesses, "but only because I wish that I was smart enough to come up with better options this time around, and I know there aren't any. But I also know that you know, and will accept, that we do have to do horrible things to stop the Yeerks from doing worse. Cassie…I'm not sure she ever really accepted that the first time, and she lived through it all with us. Now, with the war so new, I know she won't understand. And if we tell her about the time travel, we'll have to tell her some of what happened, what we did—what we will do—and…and I don't think she's ready to hear that." Tobias swallowed then shook his head. "No, I know she isn't ready to hear it. And I'm afraid of what will happen then."

Rachel just sat there for a few seconds, holding his hand, not pulling away. From the frown on her face she was thinking hard, and Tobias's heart ached at what he knew he was asking her to do. Rachel and Cassie had been driven so far apart by the war the first time around. Was he what was going to drive the first wedge between them now?

Rachel didn't ask him about any of that. She just said, "Okay. You know it's going to come out eventually, though, right? You're all not as slick about hiding this as you think you are, and 'Elfangor put magic knowledge in my brain' is only going to work as an excuse for so long, especially when Jake and Marco and Ax all keep acting like they got magic knowledge downloads, too."

Tobias laughed; he couldn't help himself. "I actually did get a 'magic knowledge download' from Elfangor," he said. "He did that the first time, too. I don't know if it's because I was his son or just because I was the only one who hesitated to run away, but he did. That gave us a lot of crucial knowledge about the Yeerks the first time."

"Oh," said Rachel. She looked shocked.

Tobias's lips curled into an unfamiliar grin. "He did it this time, too, but of course I already knew all that and a lot more now, so I didn't need it…but it does make for a good excuse."

"Okay," said Rachel, "maybe it does, but it's not going to keep Cassie in the dark forever."

Tobias's grin disappeared. "I know," he said. "I'll…I'll talk to Jake and Marco, try to figure out what we're going to do when she figures it out. How much we can tell her."

"Have you told the others about telling me yet?"

Tobias looked away. "No," he said.

Rachel's fingers tightened on his in a reassuring squeeze. "Because I died?" she said and Tobias felt his heart stutter in his chest like an owl had just flown by.

"Yes," he breathed.

He couldn't look at her, but he could feel her arm move against him as she nodded. "And because you're all scared it's going to happen again."

Tobias swallowed. "Yes," he managed to make himself say. He swallowed again and forced himself to add, "And…because we swore it wouldn't. Jake and I, anyway. We swore that no matter what, this time you live."

"Tobias…" Rachel's voice was soft, the pressure of her head against his shoulder as she leaned forward gentle. "You can't promise that. Neither of you can."

"We can," he said fiercely.

She shook her head, the silky curtain of her hair sliding back and forth in the edge of his vision where it dangled forward across his chest. "You can't," she said. "And I don't want you to try."

"But—"

A gentle but unflinching hand came up and pressed his lips shut. It was strange, being able to be silenced by someone stopping his mouth even though his thoughts kept going.

"Tobias, I know you're upset that the other me died. I'm not thrilled about it either, believe me. But like you said, this is a war and horrible things happen. We all have to make horrible choices. Any of us might die at any time, on any mission. Any of us. I don't want you and Jake protecting me at the cost of beating the Yeerks. Yeah, I don't want to die, of course I don't. But I know what being an Animorph means and what it might cost, and I made the choice to stay. Even after you told me I died, I still chose to stay. Okay?"

"Okay," Tobias said aloud, and the word tasted like ashes on his tongue. You don't know, he thought silently, those words so much more real than the ones he spoke with his soft human lips and his clumsy human teeth. You don't know the cost, and you don't know the choices that led to that cost. And I will never, ever let you find out. He turned so he could wrap his arms around her and she let him, relaxing into the hug.

"Okay," Rachel said, smiling in response to the words she heard rather than the vow she didn't.

Never, Tobias swore, and dared the universe to try and prove him wrong.

*from this tag game.

[burnedbyshoto]

i wonder

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

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

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pairing: todoroki shouto x fem!reader

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

word count: 20,141

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

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You cracked your eyes open.

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

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

Wait.

CUM?!

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

Think, y/n, think!

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

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

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

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

You screamed.

At the top of your lungs.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/n!”

“Y/n-chan!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll give you ten seconds to run.”

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

“Oh, true. Three seconds to run.”

“Why?!”

“It’s my birthday.”

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

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

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

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

“Come on, let’s go.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Which is where you were now.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was on this day that it clicked.

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

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

Disgusting.

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

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

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

So, we look back to where we started.

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

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

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

He was a physics major, not a goddamn god.

Fuck off.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But that was all unimportant and already said.

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

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

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

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

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

Ah yes, nothing like a university party.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N!”

“Y/N-CHAN!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You also itched to know what his dick looked like.

This was definitely someone you could see yourself fucking tonight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party With Shouto: 78% Calculated Rate of Not Getting Dicked Down When I Want to Get Dicked Down When Coming to a Party Without Shouto: 22%

Walking home alone, cold, and with extreme bitterness towards Yoarashi Inasa was a sadly sobering experience. By the time you collapsed onto your bed, you were only slightly buzzed, boarding sobriety while not being sober exactly.

Fuck men.

Fuck their cowardness over a nonexistent romantic/sexual relationship between you and Shouto.

But also… you really wanted to fuck men right now.

The slicked horniness of the potential thought of bedding Inasa had made its unignorable appearance via your soaked panties. You hated yourself, hated your biological needs and lusts.

“I’ll wring Shouto’s neck in front of all of them next time,” you grumble to yourself. “Stage a fake breakup for an imaginary thing…”

Nestling further into your pillows, your eyes closed, body relaxing against the bed when a peculiar sound seemed to echo in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud. Thud. Thud. Thud.

Your eyes slammed open, your jaw-dropping at the very obvious, entirely embarrassing sound of Shouto having sex on his desk sounded in your room! Of course it sounded in your room. His desk was pressed to your wall because that would mean whenever he was his icky womanizer self, you wouldn’t have to hear anything! Your rooms were soundproof but apparently not movement proof.

The thwack of the wood desk slammed against the wall, and with your ear so close to the wall, you began to hear the shaky, intense breathing of Shouto. The whines, keens, and screams of the girl he was fucking as she begged for more. Sobbing that his cock was too much for her.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Your panties soaked even more, and with a brain that somehow retracted back into its state of stupor, your fingers brushed against your swollen, ready clit.

This was wrong, so very, very wrong, you thought, the sounds of pitched whining against the stupidly impressive, steady, consistent fucking.

Your mind was a drunken fever. 

Your eyes closed not all the way, yet blind to the wall before you as your finger danced and teased against your demanding clit.

You whined softly, matching the groaning of Shouto, who banged something other than the desk into the wall.

For a moment, just this once, you wanted to be the one desperately clinging to Shouto’s back, hips snapping and circling in tandem to his, allowing him to drill his cock deep within you. Your back arched, heat reaching your toes, buzzing filling your lips.

“Yes, fuck, right there, Todoroki!” the girl screamed, begged, and prayed. “Oh my god, yes, yes yes, right there, right the— mmph!”

You find your teeth sinking into your fist, trying to keep your pounding, horny induced brain from crying out. You wanted to know what he was doing to her, if he had kissed her silent, shoved his fingers in her mouth. Maybe he had fucked her so good she couldn’t possibly say more.

There is nothing from Shouto you can hear, no noises of praise, nothing except the occasional ragged breath that seems to permeate through the walls and whisper sweetly, teasingly, like a succumbs in your ear.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

It increases, in noise, the wall separating your room from his beginning to rattle, shake in his conquest.

Your fingers are wet, entirely slippery with your conquest, your hips thrashing against your touch, clinging to a phantom memory of the last male you had managed to fuck. Then, as your stomach trembles with the orgasm that's mere seconds from blessing you with a release, you hear him—Shouto.

“Fuck.”

It’s not much. If anything, this girl should be so embarrassed she hasn’t been able to elicit a loud response from Shouto, but it’s a verbal gift from heaven above for you. His voice, tight, husky, drenched with a driving lust, whispers to you and only you, wrapping you in this blanket of solitude and need. 

With your back arching from the mattress, your hips leaving the soft surface, and your jaw growing slack, your moan is silent, unheard by no one but the heavens as you cum. Heat floods throughout your entire body, tickling and twirling in you until you can’t do anything but shudder, shaking as you fall back down on your bed, dizzy and completely satisfied. 

You don’t think about it.

Don’t try to unpack just what happened right now because the reality that you had just masturbated to the sound of your childhood best friend fucking some random girl is a bit too much. Even for you.

So you don’t think about it, and soon the thudding of the desk on the wall is nothing but a drumming lullaby, and sleep consumes you.

When you wake up, you don’t remember what you did.

You get up and trudge to the bathroom, your party clothes abandoned completely so that you’re wearing nothing but a large shirt you had stolen from Shouto years ago. You scratch your belly as you walk into the bathroom, eyes caked with your sleep still as you begin brushing your teeth.

As you brush your teeth, you begin to take off last night's makeup — well, whatever remained of it.

Spitting out the last foamy remains of the paste from your mouth, you rinsed your mouth before washing your skin. You looked much more awake now. Slapping your cheeks in an encouraging, ‘im a functional human adult taking part in some random face wash commercial,’ you exited the bathroom and went to the kitchen. 

Shishikura was already in the kitchen, his face expressionless, entirely dead to the world as he scooped some rice into a bowl and topped it off with some eggs.

“Morning,” you yawn, arms stretching over your head as you near closer to your unwanted roommate.

Shishikura sneers at you, but even he was more polite in the morning, sometimes.

“I heard the both of you get back last night,” Shishikura mocked, slamming the lid to his rice cooker with an unimpressed scowl. “You were thirty minutes apart. You know, if you two still want to be partying like a bunch of eighteen-year-olds, do it respectfully.”

Your smile back at him is as fake as he is, and you refuse to move out of the way as he tries to walk back to his room. He growls — gross? — and sidesteps you, grumbling the entire way back to his room as you roll your eyes at his retreating form.

What a child.

You entered the kitchen, fixing up your own things for breakfast.

Kettle brewing hot water for tea, rice cooker on for your own rice (you make enough for Shouto too), and you begin cooking some ham and eggs, readying yourself for a Sunday for going to the library and studying. You hummed to yourself, your phone plugged into the speaker as your music filled the quiet morning air.

You bobbed your head in rhythm with the music, your eyes concentrating on slowly cooking eggs as you poured the hot water from your kettle into the teacup. As you placed your teabag in, you looked up to the sound of a creaking door and grinned wickedly as a girl with light blue hair walked out of the hall you and Shouto’s room were in.

Her dress was rumbled, a few blooming red and purple marks sitting prettily on her collarbone, and her face flushed red as she began to scurry out.

“Bye!” you call out, laughing at the scared eep from the girl and the disgruntled groan from Shouto’s room.

You set down your tea, flipping the eggs in the pan as you heard more shuffling before finally, Shouto made his appearance. He was in nothing but grey sweatpants that sat so low on his waist you could not only see the band of his boxer-briefs, but you were entirely aware of the v-lines, the abs, the pecs, and the small happy trail from his belly button down. You also noted that there was not a single mark on his body, and you wondered if he had ever taken a single mark from a one-night fuck before.

God really cursed you with an objectively attractive best friend, huh.

“Morning, slut,” you sing, noticing with happiness that your rice cooker sang a merry tune, indicating that the rice was done. “Breakfast?”

“Mm,” Shouto grumbled, his hands rubbing his face as he trudged closer to the kitchen, taking a spot on one of the stools. “Depends. Did you make it?”

“...I always make it.”

“I think I like Shishikura’s breakfast better.”

Silence.

You glare at Shouto, and in turn, his lips press to a comfortable, teasing smile.

“Fend for your damn self then.”

Shouto laughed loudly as you began to stubbornly fix yourself a bowl of both your servings. You ate far less than he did, but still enough to fill you until after three pm, so the size of your bowl was hysterical. 

“You’re such a horrible wife-roommate,” Shouto accuses, standing up from the stool and entering the kitchen to try and persuade you otherwise to give him his own food. “And here I thought that you liked cooking for me.”

“Go tell your stupid wife-roommate Shishikura instead,” you cry loudly, the faux sniffles from you stupidly fake as you begin to shovel a mouthful of rice and eggs into your mouth. “I’m shwure you’chll beh happ t’gther!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, y/l/n,” Shouto accuses, his nose scrunching as he traps you in his arms, mouth trying to intercept the food moving from your bowl and into your mouth. 

With another desire to prove how unsatisfied in your roommate-marriage you were, you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue full of uneaten, partially chewed rice.

“Ea’ eh!” you mocked, your grin growing as Shouto’s initial instinct was to whip his head away from you.

But as always, because Shouto enjoyed being incredibly annoying, he went after your tongue, readying to eat the chewed-up food off your very tongue. 

Eventually, you gave Shouto back his part of the breakfast, laughing as the both of you chatted about who was going to repay Shishikura for the used rosés. Neither one of you could decide, and so it was something to be solved later. Noon, however, came and with a nod, you accepted Shouto’s hug goodbye, to which you twisted his nose triumphantly as you waddled out of the front door, clothed in your winter gear, textbooks, and laptop,

It was time to brave the world and get this paper done.

“Mina, I mean… absolutely no offense when I say this, but it still shocks me every time you say you’re a chemistry major. You just seem so…”

“Dumb?”

“Yeah.”

“You gotta be some kind of stupid to willingly take inorganic chem,” Mina laughed, balancing her textbooks on her head as the both of you climbed the stairwell to the library’s study rooms. “That's why I have the dance minor! Best of both worlds!”

“Could never forget about that,” you laughed as the both of you neared the top of the stairwell.

You didn’t mean to notice him. As a matter of fact, most of your failed conquests at parties never amounted to much anger from you, but seeing Inasa from across the way, his face buried in some aerodynamics textbook, anger boiled in you. On the way to meeting with Mina, you had realized your mistake last night and how you wouldn’t have made said mistake if it hadn’t been for Inasa! You could’ve been dicked down, slammed against your bed and wall as the giant of a man fucked you!

“I’ll be right back,” you sneered, eyes narrowing as you passed your textbook to Mina.

With fire following in ever long, powerful stride, you blinked and immediately found yourself before Inasa.

“Hi. Wanna explain what happened last night?”

Inasa reacted as if you had shot him, his knees coming up to hit the table, his body knocking backward, and he tumbled, crashing to the floor as you watched with a gaping mouth.

“Y-Y/L/N!” Inasa shouted, his face going through half a billion emotions before settling in anxiety-filled fear. You watched, horrified yourself, as he swung to his knees, his head crashing to the floor as he began apologizing to you. “GOODMORNING, HOW ARE YOU TODAY?!”

“Pipe it down, Inasa!” you hiss, your cheeks flooding with embarrassed heat as you garnered the attention of everyone on the floor. “I’m not going to hurt you! I just wanted to talk!”

“Aha, yes, of course!” Inasa laughs, a full belly laugh. He sits up and you freeze seeing the bloodied cut on his forehead. He stands up, completely unaffected by the gash on his forehead, and uprights his chair before sitting comfortably. “How can I help you?”

“What happened to you last night?” you try again, eyebrow raised, arms crossed definitely and awkwardly because yeah… you were confronting a guy who didn't want to sleep with you. “You were into me and then suddenly wasn’t.”

Inasa laughs more, although nothing you said, implied, or did was even remotely funny.

Irritation runs through your veins.

“Inasa, please,” you sigh in helplessness, your eyes annoyed, pleading, and hopeful that he would be the one to finally give you an actual reason.

“It’s… it’s not you. If that’s what you’re wondering,” Inasa finally sighs. His face turns uncharacteristically solemn as his tongue passes through his lips, his shoulders raising to a shrug. “Typically speaking, you are exactly who and what I want when I endeavor in less than chivalrous but still passionate activities. I wanted you last night, and I will not lie that even as I left, I regretted behaving as I did.”

“Well, you did it, and it sorta really sucked,” you laugh, your mouth taut in a frown as your feelings are genuinely hurt.

You keep being put down, and there’s no reason for it.

Why couldn’t you be as sexually active as you wish you could be?

“...Todoroki has a claim on you,” Inasa spoke slowly, his mouth dipping from a usual smile to a frown. “I know you guys aren’t together, but in a way, you two are.”

“No,” you say with complete certainty, anger burning in your chest, “we’re not.”

“Try telling Todoroki that,” Inasa shrugs, his fingers scratching through his buzz cut. “Listen, I wanted to have intercourse with you last night; I did. I also am aware that Todoroki is a womanizer, but he said you were off-limits for all of us.”

“He said that?” your voice is perfectly calm, not showing the raging fire in you.

“Well, no, he definitely did not,” Inasa sighs, the palm of his hands pressing tightly against his eyes. “He has never said it… but it’s the way he talks about you, how he looks at you. It’s a claim on you, even if it’s not a verbal one, and well, no one wants to defy him.”

Your nostrils flare in your irritation, and you find that you’re stepping into Inasa’s personal space, his eyes going wide as you step between his legs and press your hands on his chest.

“I’ll be going home in about five hours. If you still want to fuck me, wait for me,” you say slowly, trying to make sure he understands. “I don’t care if Sho looks at me the way he does; he is not my boyfriend.”

Inasa gulps, his tan skin sporting a healthy pink flush, “Yes, ma’am.”

Five hours later, you’re walking into your apartment with Inasa behind you, his warm, slightly sweaty hand clasped in yours. You make eye contact with both your roommates, Shishikura, whose eyes are rolling to the depths of his skull, and Shouto, who looks like a wall. You, despite the anger you’re feeling for Shouto, smile prettily, then grin wolfishly as you corral Inasa towards your room. You send your roommates a wink before closing the door with a decisive click.

Much like you assumed the night prior, your drunken hazed, lust-driven, anger-flared thoughts proved to be right. Inasa fucked you against the wall, deep into the mattress, he drilled and fucked you until his dick was wet with your slick, and his leg was trembling with his plentiful unleashed loads. But you weren’t done yet, too many times have you been denied, and even though Inasa was trembling, his voice shaking with desperate pleas to slow down or he would cum too fast, you rode him with powerful, swiveling hips.

Once he left, you felt light again.

Your head light, body glowing as you dressed your bruised, cum slick body in a robe as you trudged to the bathroom. You showered, letting the warm water and sweet-smelling oils drench your body before you eventually exited, your hair in a towel, Shouto’s shirt on your person again.

Waltzing to the living room, you grinned as you collapsed on the couch, every grievance you held when you walked in forgotten at the moment.

“Hello,” you smile, your head falling onto Shouto’s lap who was, at the moment, very interested in his phone. Shishikura was gone, undoubtedly leaving in case he heard something he didn’t want to hear during your little four-hour sexscapade. “I am a leaf flowing through the river right now, if you’re wondering.”

“Don’t need to wonder. You were perfectly loud enough,” Shouto grumbled, his eyes rolling. “Says something that I could, considering the rooms are soundproof.”

“I should hope so! After you, the girls rave that Inasa is the best fuck on campus,” you hum, still on a delirious high as you attempt to reach for your best friend's hand to grasp. But to your shock, Shouto jerks away from your touch, and he stands, letting your head fall roughly on the couch. And just like that, your anger is back. The emotion Inasa had managed to fuck out of you for a bit returned at full force. “Shouto?!”

“What?” he snaps.

“What the fuck is your problem?!”

“My problem is that you brought someone to fuck at fucking five p.m.,” Shouto explains, his expression like the void, empty, dark, menacing. “We agreed to keep it until past ten.”

Your face screws up as you push up off the couch, “Are you kidding me?! I’ve seen you constantly bring girls to fuck at any and all times of the day! Don’t suddenly bring that shit in when it clearly isn’t an actual rule in this apartment!”

“You were also being obnoxiously loud,” Shouto narrows his eyes at you.

“You are too!”

“When am I ever?”

“I literally listened to you fuck that girl last night against our shared wall!”

“You moved your bed to our shared wall?! When?!”

“Doesn’t matter! I would’ve heard it just fine on the other side!”

“The girl wasn’t even that fucking loud!” 

“You can’t ever remember the names of the girls you fuck! Do you know anything about them ever? Are you even using condoms?!”

“You only ever fuck men with questionable personalities.”

“Gee, I wonder fucking why!”

The two of you were nose to nose, anger flaring and near tangible between the two of you.

“What do you mean?” he grits slowly.

“I’m talking about you mad dogging any male human who so much as looks or thinks of me!” you snap, finger shoving between his pecs. “No one touches me because somehow they respect the way a womanizer looks at me.”

“I’m not looking at you in any special way,” Shouto squints his eyes, completely not having your accusations.

“Even if you don’t, this fucking behavior is pathetic of you!” you say, hands motioning between you two and the room. “I had sex, and you’re acting like some pathetic child! I have been putting up with your sex-craze tendencies since we were sixteen, asshole! Sixteen! If I want to gloat and float about having sex, then I fucking deserve to.”

His nostrils flare, his upper lip curling in a small twitch before he rolls his eyes and walks away.

“That’s right, Todoroki,” you laugh bitterly at his retreating form. “Walk away from a fight because you can never win them.”

It took a bit for the dust to settle, but as soon as it did, you realized in horror that you and Shouto had, for the first time ever, fought.

Being roommates with Shouto was always a fun thing. Having your childhood best friend right at your disposal meant that you could have dinner nights, movie nights, game nights, morning waffles, hikes, and literally anything whenever and wherever you wanted. He was a person to talk to when the days were long, and there was no one else in the world, the person who was there for you through thick and thin. But for two days, he had been locked away in his room, unwilling to look at you, refusing to be anywhere near you.

Your friends had noticed immediately.

The way the both of you hadn’t shown up together, the way you sat at opposite ends of the table, refusing to be trapped in a conversation together. Separate the two of you were, and the world acted as if Earth had dropped out of gravity.

You could care less right now.

You were rightfully mad at him! How dare he act so pettily over you having a sex life when you were expected to blink, turn the other way, and laugh when he would shower after a girl would leave before joining you on the couch to watch a movie. He was in the wrong, not you!

But even if you were unwilling to budge and he was refusing to see things the way they should be, you were now incredibly lonesome. So as you sat with your back on the mattress. Your butt to the wall, and your legs kicking against the wall, you thought of what you could do. With a bitter sigh, you rolled off your bed and scurried out of the apartment. Nothing but your wallet and ID on you so that you could get to the store on the first floor of the complex.

Holding the item in hand, you knocked on a door, your gaze already on the floor, embarrassed that you were going to do what you had to do.

“What?” came the annoyed voice of Shishikura, the door to his room opening as he looked at you unimpressed and very obviously unwelcomed.

“Truce?” you asked, raising the six-pack of Angry Orchard Rosé Cider. 

Shishikura looks at you, at the ciders, then back at you.

“Fine.”

How in the world you’re drunk off of four rosé ciders is beyond you, but you are. You’re in the living room, laughing so hard that your stomach hurts as you’re trying not to snort the liquid from your mouth and out your nose. Shishikura is equally plastered off of one drink, his red a ruby red against his purple hair. He’s leaning against you, his breathing ragged, near asthmatic as he tries to once explain just how Shouto looked like when some girl slapped him across the face yesterday for ghosting her after sex.

“He was so shocked!” Shishikura squeaked out, his voice pitchy and incredibly high as he laughed more and more. “You should have seen it!”

Your feet kicked at the air, your face and lungs burning with a fire you hadn’t felt in so long as your laughter turned silent. You gasped for air, trying to contain yourself but failing hysterically.

“Do you wa’ another meatballsh?” Shishikura suddenly asked, his hands flailing to grab his plate of meat. “I think you want another o’.”

“I wan’ ‘ne!” you cried with a slight slur, tears of joy slipping past your eyes to which you haphazardly scrubbed them off your face. “They’re soooo good! I didn’t think they could be so… be so good!”

You find yourself eating another meatball, drinking it down with the cider and feeling happy again. Shishikura goes still by your side, and you hum in wonder, unfocused eyes trying to find what had caught his attention and falling onto the one man you were mad at currently.

Shouto was standing at the apartment entrance, dressed in ripped black jeans, a tight grey turtleneck sweater, and his backpack slung on his shoulder. It was, without a doubt, a studying-only outfit. You knew and have discussed too many times with Shouto about how he never trusted women to take his turtlenecks off without potentially ruining the fabric.

“Well, someone’s finally home... from a night of beddin mo’ women, huh?” a voice spoke, but you were completely unsure if it was you or Shishikura who said it.

Judging by the way Shouto’s eyes locked on Shishikura and not yours, it seemed it was him who said it.

“No, I was doing something,” Shouto retorted, his hand gripping the strap of his backpack, his eyes shifting between you and Shishikura. “A paper for class.”

“Sure,” you end up speaking up, your voice sounding completely sober. You sit up so that your elbow is resting on Shishikura’s nearest shoulder. You raise the glass bottle to your lips, drinking its content without care, never once breaking eye contact. “What was the paper's name? You going after your TA? Or was it a professor by chance?”

Shouto’s eyebrows furrow, his face completely unimpressed by your comeback, but he remains silent.

“He looks like he’s trying to cosplay that one Young The Rock picture, no way would a dignified professor or TA fuck him!” Shishikura laughed with a loud bark, and all of a sudden, that was all you could see too.

The both of you howled with laughter, laughing and slapping each other as you attempted to drink the last bits of the rosés as Shouto rolled his eyes and walked away.

“This is fun. No wonder why you guys do it to me so often.”

-

As time does, it moves forward.

It seemed as if the entire campus had tuned in to what had transpired between you and Shouto. No one the slightest bit sure as to what happened, but everyone knew something big had happened. There was no more walking together before classes or after classes, no weird Instagram or Snapchat stories of the other, both of you never having to excuse yourself because you had plans with the other. Even though they claimed to not care about other people’s business, the school was suddenly invested in the single speculation that Todoroki Shouto’s and Y/l/n Y/n’s relationship was over.

“Breaking News, it was never a real relationship!” you would scream the first few times you heard it, which only worked to make them whisper louder that you were in further denial.

For the last seventeen years of your life, you had never gone more than two days without talking or seeing your childhood best friend. Those two days happened when Rei had experienced a staggering, hospital-inducing breakdown from stress and had subsequently burned Shouto when you were five years old. The two days were because he spent four days in the hospital. The first two days, he was not allowed visitors as the hospital staff put him under a coma to help his body from entering shock and heal. Of course, the moment he was awakened, you were dragging your mother to his bedside.

That was the only time you hadn’t seen or spoken to Shouto consistently.

But since Sunday evening, you had only seen Shouto once when you were drunk with Shishikura. You had only spoken to him then too.

For the first time in seventeen years, you broke your record of not talking or seeing Shouto.

From two days to five.

It was weird.

You felt almost empty.

So when Mina and Uraraka placed their arms around your shoulders, their eyes dead serious, you knew that they had a distraction for you.

“The deltas are throwing a party,” Uraraka spoke with mystery. “It is on Saturday.”

“It is only right that we go, get our asses so drunk our blood is practically a distillery, and fuck anyone who looks at us a second longer than anyone else,” Mina agrees, her tone wise and knowing as she nods her head.

“Our question to you is:” they spoke together, their voices weirdly, obviously practiced, in synch. “Are you in?”

Your tongue is pressed between your lips, your fingers pressing against the textbook you were using to help support your essay’s thesis, and you roll your eyes.

You grin.

“Obviously.”

And as time promises each and every time, Saturday finally came.

“What is our objective tonight?!” Mina screams over the background music that Jirou is blasting in Momo’s larger-than-life bathroom.

“To fuck bitches and get money!” Hagakure, the only one currently not downing a drink, screams back.

“NO, WRONG!” Mina shakes her head, climbing onto the white marble countertops and pointing at Jirou. “Kyo! Your turn!”

“To beat that prick in the sound booth and prove that I’m—”

“NO! Wrong again! Yaomomo!”

“Um, to make everlasting mem—”

“INCORRECT, YOU GORGEOUS PRINCESS! Tsuyu, don’t fail me, babe!”

“Well, it’s to prove to Todoroki that y/n-chan should be able to fuck any person she wants.”

“A bit lengthy, a bit focused on the wrong parts of it, but YES! Tonight’s operation: get y/n a man — preferably Inasa — who fucks the negativity out of her!”

You laugh loudly, rolling your eyes as you lean in closer to the mirror. You hold a Mike’s Hard in one hand, and in the other is your eyeliner as you paint on your makeup. You’re not really hearing the conversations that the girls are having, your own mind too lost in the music, and the swaying you’ve picked up as the three bottles of Mike’s you’ve had in the past thirty minutes are calming down your still frazzled nerves.

You don’t pull away from your reflection until after you’re done smoothing over your favorite lipstick on your pouty lips. You look over at your reflection and see Mina dancing with an awkwardly stiff Jirou and a delightfully giggling Momo on the bathroom countertops. A smile forms on your face, happiness radiating in your chest, and you grin looking at your friends.

But Shouto still sat in your mind, and you couldn’t help but wonder why.

Why did it hurt knowing that he was avoiding you as much as you were him?

Why didn’t he just try to corner you?

Why did you care that he didn’t?

He was your best friend in the entire world, since your earliest memories, he’s been there, you reason, your whooping not quite as loud as you watch Jirou awkwardly be sandwich between a grinding Mina and a complacent Momo.

It was his fault you, you further reasoned, smiling widely at Hagakure, who was twirling around you, applying her lipstick as a super crazy never before seen talent of hers. He was the one acting like an idiot over the people you slept with even though you let all the people he slept with slide!

But why did you?

Your brows furrowed slightly, unfurrowing just as quickly as Mina pulled you and Uraraka up onto the countertop with her as Jirou and Momo dropped to the floor.

You fucking were in love with Shouto, damnit! Of course you let the stupid personal things go just to appease him! Your back straightened, your eyes rolling as you began to dance with the Kehlani music thumping in the background, but then you freeze.

You were in love with him.

You loved Shouto.

Not in a friendly, platonic, family way.

In an ‘I would date you if I could and marry you on the prettiest beach in front of the most beautiful sunset’ way.

You found that your body was dancing on autopilot as you began to reassess your thoughts, your actions, your wants with Shouto, desperately trying to disprove this love for him. But no matter what you did, you found that it was true no matter what angle you looked at it.

The bass dropped, and you went stiff, your body standing straight and tall although you felt incredibly, terribly small.

“I love him,” you spoke, although you’re not sure who to. Maybe it was to the laughing gods above you or the crying spirits around you. But the girls heard it for some reason, and they, as they were patiently waiting for these past six, nearly seven days, caught you as you went weak.

Finally, realizing that you were in love with your childhood best friend was not the conclusion you expected from a week's silence from Shouto and you. But as you were currently in a crop top with a mesh shirt underneath and the most ripped jeans you owned, chugging down a neon green and blue nearly toxic alcoholic drink, you realized that being at this party was the right way to conclude this circus of a week.

The rush of the liquid dropping down the beer bong was something you found yourself struggling to keep up with, and you felt some of the liquid pour out of your mouth as you grunt, trailing down your heaving chest, creating an image in your onlookers as you refused to choke or pull away. Swallowing the last bit of the drink, ripping the plastic tube out of your mouth, you threw your hands in the air, Tsuyu, who had held and poured the contents for you, screaming too as she lifted your arm in victory.

You couldn’t really hear the music anymore, much more entranced with the music you were singing on your own, and you were currently holding Mina’s face, touching foreheads with her as you spoke a mantra of your love for her.

“Ashido Mina, you are the baddest bitch in the whole wide world. I love your pink hair and your fat ass, and I would die for you. I love you… so fucking much,” is what you said. How it was actually said and how it was perceived is a whole other story because Mina laughed loudly and allowed you to hug her despite your sticky alcohol body.

Your twenties were the new two’s, it seemed.

“Yo, y/l/n!” a voice yelled, and although you let go of Mina’s face, your arms found a new home around her neck as you turned around.

“Hm?”

Your terrible drunk eyes looked all over before falling on a man wearing a basketball jersey and joggers.

Shindou Yo, one of campus’ manwhores. He had a reputation similar to Shouto, you knew that very well, but you were aware that he was disturbingly creepy. According to many vital witnesses, the man slept with just about anyone willing regardless of gender, so not only did you know what the girls thought of him, experienced with him, there was a wider demographic not even Shouto had entered. Number one thing to be told was the fact that Shindou was into some heavy, dark shit to an extreme, his room reeked of sex, and he himself smelled like booze, weed, and BO. But a strong dick was a strong dick at the end of the day.

“Come play beer pong with me?” he asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he smiled innocently. “I’ve heard some pretty solid shit about your skills, and I want to see how I add up.”

“I’ll play!” you agree immediately, jumping at the thought of drinking more. “Bu I don’t wa’ beer… ish nashty.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

With your arm still holding onto Mina, you accepted Shindou’s hand and allowed him to drag you off to where he wanted to play the game of beer pong.

The game of beer pong went without a single thing going wrong. You were paired up with Shindou, and Mina had managed to find Kirishima in the crowd before you got to your destination and demanded she have him as a partner and not Monoma.

It was safe to say that you were drunk, disgustingly out of your mind. It was an intense game of Cup Pong, the two different teams equally as bad in the drunken stupor, but finally, the two teams were down to a single cup and Kirishima — who was the only reason why they were winning!!!! — had the last ball. You watched in terrible apprehension, fingers digging into Shinsou’s biceps as Kirishima rose the wet ping pong ball to Mina’s lips and let her blow on it for good luck before bringing it back in and began a few steadying practice throws.

“You know, I’m glad I saw you at this party,” Shindou whispers to you, his head ducking down so that you and only you could hear that.

“Why?” you say a lot louder than you wanted, your heart hammering in fear that you would lose this game.

“Because you’re sexy as fuck,” Shindou spoke, his voice turning deeper, huskier, “and now you’re single.”

You blink, attention stolen from the game as you forgot about the final cup and looked at Shindou with a blank stare and an open mouth.

“What?”

“Cuz you and Todoroki are over,” Shindou explains to you as if you’re a child. “You guys are over, right? That’s all everyone’s talking about, and all us guys are ready to fuck you whenever you’re ready.”

His smirk irritates you, the lust in his eyes angering you as you drop your hold on his arm.

“We weren’t together, and you knew that,” you say, eyes narrowing as the crowd watching the game explodes in raging cheers as Kirishima sinks the ball into the cup. “Why the fuck would Shouto be fucking every girl that walks if we were together? What makes you think I’d be okay with it?”

“You’re a cuck,” Shindou continues on, confidence unaffected. “Oh, are the two of you maybe changing roles now? Does the big guy want me to fuck you in front of him?”

Your fist makes contact with his throat before you can even stop yourself and the cheers quickly turn into gasps.

After apologizing profusely to the party holders, they decided that you could, in fact, stay at the party. Your knuckles throbbed in pain, the alcohol in your system buzzing in you in a way that wasn’t fun or relaxing as you made a simple side-step dance move in the middle of the dance floor. The girls, who had at the beginning of the party, drifted ways, had once more glued themselves at your side on the floor. You weren’t in a dancing mood as you took a drink of what you assumed to be a Moscow mule made by Mina for you to keep you at a high for the rest of the party.

Like hell you would ever let Shouto cuck you!

Let him fuck another woman in front of you?

You would go insane if he ever thought that would be acceptable.

“Down girl, relax!” Mina yelled by your ear. “I thought I was babysitting y/n, not Bakugou Katsuki!”

You startled, realizing that your frown had become a fierce snarl as you danced on the floor.

“Come on, babe, let’s get you feeling good again; let’s enjoy this night!” Mina exclaimed, her hands pushing your drink to your mouth and forcing you to chug the contents of the drink. The red Solo Cup is dropped to the floor as soon as you finish. She grabbed your wrists and began to fluidly move your arms — or as well as she could manage herself because she, too, was drunk.

But with Mina winking and smiling at you, the rest of the girls eventually throw themselves into your linked dance circle, your own negative emotions left and in came joy.

It took about another round of ten songs for the dance circle to be destroyed and to have all of you resuming a rave-like jumping and scream-singing as Jirou finally snuck her way into the DJ booth and succeeded to take over. You spun around at the end of one song, laughing completely out of breath as you clapped your hands together. You often forget that while Jirou only listened to a very specific genre, she was a musical genius who had banger playlists for every occasion.

It seemed frat parties were one of them.

However, the next song had your head tilting backward, your grin spreading even wider as you began to move your hips in slow, distinct movements. Dancing with your hips was something you had learned, something you instilled into your dancing category for as long as you could remember.

The beats were loud, deep, thumping deep in the ground and vibrating with great strength in your chest as you pointed a finger at Mina, who was also dancing similarly to you. Your lips moved as you sang the song quietly, the heat and humidity of the room suddenly pressing onto you like another person. You hummed, flicking the parts of your hair sticking to the nape of your neck off, grateful for the slightly cooler air hitting your sweaty skin.

As you rolled your hips down, your hands fanning yourself, trying to cool down your deliriously warm, alcohol-heated body, you froze for just a bit. A person pressed to your back, your ass pressing against a hot thigh, and a hand resting upon the curve of your thigh, keeping you in place. You might have cared, but the body against yours was a welcomed one. Your hips and ass continuing to move in tandem with the music, deliberate highs and lows, and you worked your way up and down the man's body who met yours with spinning accuracy that made you began to pant, your heart racing because this was hot to you. You raised your arms behind you, clasping onto his neck, keeping him on you.

His hair was soft under your touch, slightly sweaty but threaded and parted between your fingers just too easily. His left hand, which had found a spot on your stomach, was radiating heat, something easily felt due to you only having mesh cloth there.

It was slow.

Sensual.

Somehow familiar.

Absolutely mind-numbing.

His chest broad against your back, muscles strong and tight against you.

He was skilled, practiced. Someone you knew was not going to disappoint you, and as your lust-glazed eyes took in the entirely shocked looks of your friends, you finally turned to look.

Somehow, someway, you weren’t shocked at all to see Shouto’s clouded, dark eyes locking on yours. Your world seems to freeze as something between you and Shouto is so obviously broken between you, forever changing, no longer able to go back. It didn’t matter that this was the first time in almost a week you had seen him, had talked to him, he was there, and you wanted to feel his skin scorching against yours. His touch screamed of his want for you, your recognition of your love for him, and your current lust for him. You were angry, hurt, confused, but you were too drunk to care, too intoxicated on the spell the two of you created on this dance floor.

But even as your world froze, the music continued on.

Grabbing Shouto’s hand, you spun around so that his chest was now pressed against yours, your legs between his. You continued dancing, continued to roll your hips down as you sunk down to the ground as Shouto remained standing, his hand supporting and balancing you as you went down and up. He began to dance with you again, the world seemingly disappearing as the two of you ground and panted heavily in each other's ears.

He pushed forward, and you whined, feeling the blazing swollen heat of his semi-hard cock against your stomach, but you met him there.

Your fingers fisting in his hair as his hands found their way into your back pockets, gripping your ass, and your eyes fluttered shut as his mouth, blazing, intense, and intentful, mashed against yours. You kissed him back immediately, all defenses abandoned to that of your lust, wants, and needs. His mouth was a fire, his kiss a blaze that consumed you, drowned you, made you push for more.

It was a kiss that lasted who knows how long, but by the time you had separated, you could feel the familiar sting to your slowly swelling lips and the song that had ended.

His eyes were a near black, his cheeks flushed, and his arms kept you so close you had to think if you were in the privacy of your home or in public.

“I want you,” you whispered, your voice begging, pleading for him.

“I need you,” he responded, his voice equally wishing.

“Take me home,” you speak, lips pressing sloppy, desperate hot kisses to his neck. “Take me home and fuck me.”

“Fuck, yes, okay. Let’s go,” Shouto pants, his hands leaving your ass and grabbing onto one of yours before taking you and dragging you away.

It wouldn’t hit you until much later, but the very first kiss you had ever had with Shouto was in the middle of a dance floor, at a party where the male population had been ready to snatch you up after your relationship with Shouto was so-called over.

You were breathless.

No matter how deep you inhaled, you felt like you weren’t having enough oxygen flooding your veins, filling your lungs. You laugh loudly in the night, uncaring about the strangers you passed looking at you and Shouto, who chuckled and snorted with every giggle you made.

This felt crazy, insane, something serendipitous and not real even in the smallest of bits.

He kissed you.

He wanted you.

He said he needed you.

Wants and needs were different things, but he said need.

He needed you.

Just you.

Your feet ached from the running, but you could only focus on Shouto, your mind filling and swimming in the memory of his body pressed to you. The way his lips ghosted over your neck, and the way he danced against you — with you. The four-block walk back to your apartment seemed too far, and your eyes locked on a nearing alleyway.

With much more strength than you should have, you shoved Shouto into the alleyway, your mouth immediately pressing onto his.

Shouto groaned into your mouth, letting you drink his noises as you pulled him close, consuming him in a messy clash of teeth, spit, and tongue. You whined back, your legs slotting between his thigh and grinding down on the hard muscle. It alleviated the growing, scorching heat in your panties but also intensified it, making you want for more and more and more.

“You drive me fucking insane,” Shouto groaned in your mouth, shifting and guiding your rolling hips his thigh better, more fluid, more intense.

Your eyes barely cracked open, your mouth no longer kissing him put pressing against his in an open mouth pant. Your drunken breath saying nothing but implying the world.

Something Shouto was more than keen on giving you.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered for you to hear, so reverent, so holy. And so that you, the center of his world, the only thing he saw and believed in, knew how passionately, how ardently he believed in you, his mouth slid down your neck, and his teeth sunk in your flesh. He claimed you, praised you, making you a part of him.

“I’m still so mad at you!” you moan, voice pitched, whiny, and deliriously high. “I love you, asshole. I love you, and you sleep around! I love you, and I don’t care if you sleep around, but you care that I sleep around?!”

“I love you too,” Shouto mumbles against your neck, his teeth continuing to press into your skin that seems to explode with heat at the revelation. “I love, and I’m an idiot; I’m so sorry.”

And then he does something with his tongue against your neck, the soft of swipes, the wet tickling heat making your head slam back against the brick wall, and a mangled, strangled moan of unadulterated want emits from you.

“We'll talk about this in the morning,” you pant, fingers fisting in his shirt. “We can fix this, but right now, shut up and fuck me.”

“Y/n—”

“I’m horny,” you interrupt, hips sharply jutting into his leg. “You made me horny. Take responsibility.”

His eyes flashed dark, his nostrils flaring, and your words cemented in his head. He resumed his painting, his worship on your neck as you cried loudly in the alleyway, desperate, needy for more.

It was dizzying to have him on you like this.

For so long, you had only touched him in a few ways, had only ever felt a specific type of warmth. But this was unlike anything you’ve ever done with him, to him. It felt like you were burning and freezing, consumed by heat and energy and everything Shouto. His all too familiar cologne filled your nose, drowning your brain, invading your senses. His frantic heartbeat felt against your own body, telling you exactly how you were affecting him, how you made his heart speed and jump with every breathy whine.

“Fuck, I can’t do this. We need to get home now!” Shouto growls, his hands grabbing you by the wrist yet again and pulling you away.

His strides are long, quick, and powerful. You’re running to keep up, beautifully out of breath, staggering and stumbling to keep up in his objective to get back to the apartment now.

It doesn’t seem to take long before he’s pushing open the doors to the apartment complex, corralling you through the doors and into the elevator to get to the eleventh floor. The elevator doors are behind you, and with no one else in the life, you turn on him and immediately resume your own endeavor of claiming Shouto with your mouth, body, and soul. He matches your intensity, hands roaming from where the clasp of your bra sat to the curve of your ass. He grabbed you, pulled you in closer, the air in his nose staggering as you stammer against his mouth.

Teeth touch lips, tongues in each other's cheeks, and Shouto leads you out of the elevator backward, his one hand on your waist forever steady and the other one holding the key. Your fingers are back in his hair, pulling and tugging sharply on the soft, short strands with nearly disappeared gel. He gets to the door, fumbling with the key as you continue to kiss him, distracting him with the smallest of movements.

“Which room?” he asks against your mouth, pushing you through the threshold, his foot closing the door behind him.

The shoes are haphazardly kicked off and you’re now on your tiptoes to continue kissing him as you were. You tried to think, tried to figure out if you wanted to be surrounded by Shouto’s scent or to have him displayed in your room. His teeth then suckle on your bottom lip, biting down on the swollen, hot flesh just gentle enough that your mind draws a blank and your voice responds on its own.

“Mine.”

You shriek then, Shouto swiftly picking you up off the floor and you panic, hands swatting and beating on him as you scream to let you down. He continues walking, holding you without a worry, his arms remaining strong and firm beneath you. But with your distraction, with your lips no longer pressed sinfully against his, Shouto’s mouth finds a junction point on your clavicle and sinks his teeth down again, claiming you once more.

“S-Sho—” your voice hitches, the feeling too intense for you to process all at once. You hear your room door open and close, and without warning, you’re soaring through the air before collapsing on the bed.

“You think I go to the gym to get muscles for fun?” Shouto taunts, his fingers hooking under the dark grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Angel, I go to the gym to make sure I can fuck you in any position, against any surface or wall you want.”

Your body feels like it's scorching as he removes his shirt, his muscles rippling and moving seductively with the devious, intentional movement.

“What’s wrong, y/n?” Shouto asks, the shirt dropping to the floor, removing all traces of oxygen from your person. He steps closer, fingers circling around your ankle and suddenly pulling you in toward him until you were sitting at the edge, his lips hovering over yours. “Cat got your tongue?”

Your tongue feels dry in your mouth, but your eyes narrow before you push up and capture his mouth back with yours. He kisses you back deeply, bending down so that you begin to shift backward, allowing him the space to crawl onto the bed with you, and at the last moment, your leg wraps around his waist and spins the both of you. Shouto gasps as you pin him onto the mattress, your tongue invading his mouth, brushing and swirling against his, coaxing his own tongue back into your own mouth. With the wet heat in your mouth, your teeth playfully, just gently dig into his appendage and tug.

“No, but it seems like I got yours,” you humor him, your teeth releasing his tongue, and Shouto looks up at you like you were both the sun and the moon, and the stars were a gift to him.

It takes your breath away.

Shouto grins, shifting onto his elbows so that he’s closer to you before kissing you again.

The kiss is growing louder, both your mouths ever so consuming, trying to relay years of repressed, unknown emotions and feelings within a drastic, incredible touch. Your hips begin shifting against his crotch, humping his clothed erection, demonstrating yet again the power and grace you hold in your body.

Shouto’s hands move from your ribs up to your breasts, and with the hot, rough flesh of his skin, he squeezes your tender flesh. You moan into his mouth, hips bucking wildly against him at the sensation. It isn’t a powerful flesh, but a reminder, a demonstration of just what and where he could inflect passionate actions.

Your hands scour his chest, fingernails dragging teasingly down his firm, developed muscles, fingers flicking and teasing at his own exposed nipples. Shouto grunts into your mouth, hips bucking powerfully upward into your clothed cunt, and you splutter at the power behind it. But it seems as though Shouto is over the fishnet mesh shirt and crop top you’re wearing because he’s tugging it out of the waistband of your jeans and commands in a deep, lust-ridden voice: “Off.”

Goosebumps flash across your skin, bubbling and spraying across your sensitive skin as your shirt and crop top join Shouto’s on the floor. Your gasp loudly when Shouto rolls the both of you over swiftly, his mouth immediately pressing hot, viper kisses on your breasts. All thought and reason leave your mind as his teeth nip and pull. His fingers pushing the straps of your bra off your shoulders and shoving your boobs out of the bra in a firm hold.

“You have no idea how fucking long I’ve wanted to touch you, kiss you, fuck you,” Shouto whispers, his tone almost dark as his hot air fans against your already pebbling nipples. “Fuck, angel, you’re better than anything I’ve ever dreamed about.”

You whine loudly, fingers tangling in his hair as you desperately, wordlessly try to persuade him to put his lips around your attentive, eager nipples.

“I always forget you got these things,” Shouto says in wonder, his fingers touching the metal bars sitting so innocently, deviously on through your nipple. He tugs on the bar, and all the nerves in your breast fire and tingle, and your feet curl by his back as you whimper. “Fuck... I can’t believe I forgot…”

“S-Shouto, I fucking swear!” you almost screech, hands desperately pulling at strands of red and white, wanting his teeth and tongue and the suction of his mouth on your nipple. “Stop. Fucking. Talking!”

Shouto chuckles, his eyes of blue and grey flashing up at you dangerously, knowingly.

“Okay,” he says cheekily, and as if he read your thoughts, his teeth gently bit down on your all too ready nipple. Your head slams against the mattress, your chest feeling alive as if you had been electrocuted. He sucks your nipple, teeth tugging on the sensitive flesh, clacking against the metal in your flesh. His fingers taking care of your lonesome nipple, keeping it company with gentle, purposeful rolls as he has you sobbing his name.

“Please, please, please,” you beg, although you have no idea what you’re begging for. Your hips pathetically grinding into his clothed cock, trying to get yourself to cum while not having been touched. “Sho— Shouto!”

Shouto pulls away from your nipple with a loud pop. His breath panting, short, and overwhelmingly strained as if simply sucking your throbbing, needy nipple had given him the same amount of pleasure as it did you before consuming your forgotten one. Just as before, you melted against him, begging please, pretty please to him but never telling him what you were wanting. You didn’t know what you were wanting.

But unlike before, his hands leave their attentive position on your free nipple and slam your hips back down onto the mattress, keeping you down and still as he continued his ministrations until you were nipplegasming. You choked as the orgasm consumed you, your body going rigid and your eyes rolling to the depths of your head as his hot mouth was all you could think of. For a moment, the needy wet heat between your thighs was easily ignorable, something unneeded until Shouto was pulling away and kissing you again.

His chest was pressed tight against your own chest, your sensitive, overstimulated nipples rubbing against his chest with the welcomed friction as you let out a wordless, near-dizzy sigh into Shouto’s mouth. He kissed you with incredible passion, with dizzying heat, and consuming lust.

Your voice was so small, your voice easily drowned in Shouto’s mouth as your fingernails dug into his back and raked down pathetically, desperately proving that you were still here. Still fighting him on just who would win this night. Your fingers went down the curve of his spine, trailing down until you found the waistband of his sweats, and with his mouth everso distractingly on the swell of your breasts, biting, marking, and sucking hickies and his print on you for forever, he helped you slide the pants off.

In an almost dramatic fashion, his eyes burning deep into yours, leaving you stunned and a worshiper at his feet, he rose off your bed and let the pants fall. You shakily inhaled, your eyes suddenly transfixed and only seeing the hard, leaking dick that stood tall and proud against his twitching stomach. At the mere sight of him, you now truly, completely, and entirely understood just why the girls were obsessed.

From tip to the base, he was thick, the flush of his skin gorgeous, the curve of his cock optimal to fuck anyone. He was long, thick, and delicious—trimmed pubes of red and white and balls that had your mouth watering and going dry. You wondered, imagined, tried to visualize just how much it was going to hurt getting that in you. You’ve never had a man with a dick like that, never had to choke or fuck on something that looked like it would possibly render you stupid the moment you were impaled.

“Can I?” you ask, ‘can I touch you? Can I suck you?’ go unsaid.

“You owe me one,” Shouto says, his words teasing if it wasn’t for the way his voice betrayed him with the eagerness, the want and inexplicable tell that says if you don’t touch him, he will lose his fucking mind. “Please, do it.”

You’re dragging him back onto the bed, sitting him by your headboard, spreading his legs apart as you situate yourself between them. With a tentative, shaky hand, you reach out and grab on his dick.

His flesh is hot to the touch; it's hard and twitches just so at your grasp. Shouto lets out a gasp mixed with a whine, and you look at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Unable to help yourself, you lean in, your nose touching the underside of his length and nuzzling into the flesh. You look back up at him with hooded eyes, eyes dark with mirth, lust, and an overwhelming need to please Shouto. He stares back, eyes entirely too bright, almost scared, almost as if he can’t believe this is happening.

You smile softly, eyes breaking contact to look at the swelling cock in your hand, and then back at him as your tongue pokes out of your mouth and puts a long, wet stripe against his length.

And Shouto?

Shouto moans like a man who’s had warm food after days of starving.

You lick from base to tip, saliva mixing with precum as your mouth presses teasing, open mouth kisses down the length of his cock, tongue pressing against the sweltering heat of his balls.

“Fuck, y/n, stop teasing,” Shouto grits, his hips pathetically snapping into nothing, his hands desperately trying to touch you, to which you swatted him away each and every time. You tut, shaking your head. With both your hands fisting his dick at the middle of his length, your squeeze and pull in opposite directions.

The reaction is one that you were hoping for, Shouto’s head slamming to the headboard with a clash, his legs jumping just a bit, and precum coming out in even heavy drops. You laugh breathlessly at his display, enamored with how fucking easy he is to get to make noises. He’d never made noises before, no other girl had him the way you did, and that made you crazy with power.

Before you wanted to, your mouth consumed to head of his cock, allowing the musky smell that was completely and only Shouto to fully consume you. You sucked on his thick swollen head, tongue pressing on the leaking slit on his head as he choked on your name. You smile, taking him in further, straining against the weight in your mouth, the pressure on the back of your throat, and the stretch of your throat. As soon as you had him a bit way in, you were pushing out, his hips driving to find you but missing you. Shouto’s noise was almost broken, near needy, and your head spun with his noises. Unable to stop, you pushed in again, allowing the drive of his hips to send his cock further down your throat.

Tears filled your eyes at the action, his cock much too large, much too thick to be fucked into your throat as such. Your fists acted as a barrier as you adjusted, your throat humming, mouth moaning as Shouto lost himself to the heat of your wet mouth. You bobbed your head, fucking him diligently and intently with your mouth, driving him further down, your tongue and hollowed cheeks. You sucked his dick with the intention of ruining him, of making him fill your mouth and throat with him so he could never doubt that it was him you wanted, him you needed to consume. You let go of one hand, allowing it to fondle with his balls as his cock went further into your mouth, the sounds of your choking, gagging, and crying egging him on.

“You take me so good,” Shouto sang to you, whispering words that only you’ve heard. “Fuck, angel, take me all the way. I know you can do it.”

With his hands at the back of your head, your fingers squeezing his balls, and the shaky removal of your final hand on his cock, he drives his hips all the way up. Shouto curses loudly, and you choke, feeling the rush of cum shooting down your throat, and you’re let free.

“Swallow it all, don’t spit it up,” Shouto breathes, his body shifting upward, eyes intent, focused. “Let me see.”

You cough violently, mouth closed as you swallow the salty cum, only letting your mouth open to allow the drool and spit to drip from your flat tongue as you show him that you swallowed every last seed. He groaned, grasping you by the chin and pulling you back in for a passionate, all-consuming kiss. The taste of Shouto and his cum sat heavily in your throat, and you were shaking as he began to unbutton your jeans, shedding them off of you as he flipped you back around so that your back was resting against the mattress.

Salt sweat dripped down your neck, and Shouto left fingertip bruises on your waist, your knees and legs awkwardly kicking as you finally got your jeans off your ankles. You shuttered, feeling Shouto’s hot, spit-slick dick pressing against your stomach, your cunt flipping and twisting at the thought of taking him all in.

“You’re still, fuck… you’re still hard?” you gasp, Shouto’s fingers tracing the innards of your thighs, scratching at your ass, slapping it once, twice, leaving you pitched and shaking.

“How can I not be when you’re down beneath me?” Shouto asks, his eyes looking at you as if he was burning the very naked image to you in his brain for him forever. “You’re mine, right?”

The question itself, while unexpected, was not unwanted.

You feel yourself nodding, your fingers scratching up his flexed arms, “Yours and only yours.”

“Good,” Shouto smirks, leaning in, his entire weight on the one hand beside your head, making you groan as his lips were so close yet so far away. “I’m yours as you are mine.”

With that, his fingers pressed to your thus far, unattended to clit, your legs shaking, kicking the air as you howled in pleasure. But it was such an intimate place, something you never expected Shouto to ever touch, and so, in a voice so pathetic you couldn’t even recognize it as yours, you screeched: “D-Don’t touch that!”

Shouto cocked an eyebrow, his head tilting as his fingers swirled around your swollen nub, sending just enough electrifying pleasure through every neuron in your body. “Why not?” he asked, voice authoritative and curious and sadistic. “It’s mine — you’re mine. I can play with what’s mine whenever I want.”

The words make your entire will collapse, the words liquid heat in your ears and mind. You moan loudly, feeling Shouto adjust your hips, lining your spasming cunt with his cock, and with his tongue delving into your mouth, his lips pressing against yours, he slowly pushed into you.

Shouto was loud the entire way into you, the deep grunts, breathless moans, and mindless babble of how this was unlike anything he’s had before, better than anything he’s ever imagined. He bottoms out quickly, hands leaving purple bruises against your skin as you lay on the bed silent.

Your back is entirely arched, jaw slacked, voice dead on your tongue because the feeling of him buried deep within you is staggering. You let out a single tone noise, your mouth gasping for breath as your voice finally begins to come back to you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you whisper over and over, your legs tight around Shouto’s hips, shaking with the feeling in you. “God, y-you’re so big, Sho… I’m—”

You can’t finish your sentence because he shifts just enough that his cock is meeting places in you that had never been encountered before. Your eyes roll back again, your fingers pressing ruby red scars to his back as you scratch and tear his back.

“You’re so fucking tight, shit,” Shouto pants, his mouth panting against the sweat on your collarbone, his own breathing heavy and spaced. “You’re perfect, y/n, so fucking perfect.”

You preen with those words, your mouth finding a home at his temple to which you kiss him, drag your lips down to his ear. You bite and nibble as you adjust to him buried deep within you. And he heaves a sigh and pushes up off you, eyes daring to stare into you as he huffs almost in disbelief of this entire night.

“I’m going to start moving,” he says, fingers scratching down your sides to your thighs. “Are you ready?”

Not trusting your voice, you nod. Shouto smiles, leaning back down for one last kiss to which you quickly returned, staying there as his hips moved backward before thrusting back into you. It's the first thrust of many, but your arms wrap even tighter underneath his own, your nails scarring his back as he goes again and again. You fucks into you deliberately, readily, with purpose and skill that speaks wonders and lives up to the many rumors you’ve ever heard.

His thrusts are powerful, slapping into your thighs with a mighty smack, making you whimper and wail into his salty neck as your hips lift up to meet his. It's a powerful dance, a dizzying cycle. His cock sliding up and down your puffy velvet walls, your weeping walls clenching him in a vice, unforgiving and unwilling to let go.

He speaks praises into your ear, your yours, your mouth.

“Such a pretty angel, moaning for me, crying for me, tell me you want my cock. Tell me you want me buried in your fucking stomach.”

You are converted to him in return, seeing him, speaking to him, devoted to him.

“Fuck, I want you more. Faster, harder! Don’t stop! I can feel you in my stomach, Sho! Fuck! Fuck me, fuck me fuck me!”

His weight is pressed on your thighs, spreading your thighs further apart, fucking into deeper, fucking you so powerfully, so desperately your soaked cunt squelches and drips your essence, soaking your bed and his legs. Your teeth sink into his skin, copper filling your mouth, and your vision feels missing as you are slamming your hips up, rolling them desperately to fuck back into him. You can feel his hand clutching yours, pressing it into the mattress as he somehow speeds up again, drilling you into the mattress, the bed creaking and bending under both your weight.

“More, more, more!”

And he gives, and gives, and gives.

You wail his name, the heat in your skin, tickling your clit and innards making you sweat, the alcohol on your skin sticking you to Shouto.

Shouto grunts your name, hisses your name, damns you heaven and back for having such a fucking grip on him. It's when he looks into your eyes, cock drilling into you at a speed and power that no human should ever obtain, one hand gripping yours and the other pinching and teasing your clit, you cum, bursting open at the seams.

Your orgasm is loud, clenching, all-consuming, and you drag Shouto down with you as he stammers, shudders, and cums deep within your womb. His seed spilling out of you as the both of you collapse onto the bed with breathless, thoughtless minds.

“Fuck,” he says.

“Right?” you chuckle.

And with your nose pressed to his sweaty, sex-lulled body, you fall asleep with his hands traveling up and down your spine. Hopefully, things would be well when you woke up.

P R E S E N T

To stop you from screeching so loudly you woke up the entire world, Shouto held his hand to your mouth, his eyes wide, terrified, and completely confused.

“Please stop yelling… my head hurts…” Shouto begs, his face completely exhausted but with that post-orgasm sleep glow.

“We had sex?!” you shriek, throwing his hand off your mouth. “We were mad at each other, and we had sex?!”

“Oh,” Shouto seems to remember, his head rolling before he sat up, bringing you up with him. “Right, we should talk about that, huh?”

“You think?!” you shriek, entirely overwhelmed with the fact that you had done so much embarrassing shit last night.

It’s quiet for a bit. The birds chirping outside an almost cheerful taunt as the both of you, for the first time in seventeen years, find it too awkward to talk. No one wants to speak first, to mention the elephant in the room, for once it happened, there really was no going back. Not that there was much to go back from.

“I’m in love with you,” Shouto finally says. It’s an admittance, a whisper that's strong despite it told in such a hushed voice as if you would laugh at him as he confessed. “I’ve actually been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Now that shocks you.

Your eyes are wide, and you’re staring at Shouto, unsure what to say, what to ask, but you know you need more answers.

“I know, hard to believe, huh?” Shouto chuckles, his hand running through his sex and sleep disheveled hair. “It’s true, though… I don’t remember not ever being in love with you.”

“No… no way,” you say, your body running cold, and you shiver. You remember then that you’re sitting up, and you’re very incredibly naked. Shouto notices and moves to grab a blanket at the foot of the bed and wraps it around you. “That doesn’t make sense,” you argue, your furrowed brows making your skin crease as you try to think back on all your years and memories, looking for signs in which Todoroki Shouto loved you. “You never showed it.”

“Camie said the same thing,” Shouto sighed, his hand rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged nonchalantly. “Before I was sixteen… I don’t know; I guess I could understand why. I only ever talked to you, always paired up with you. I let you hold my hand, and I let you hug me… I thought me telling you that I had never been kissed before would make you want to kiss me, but it never did. I know I was awkward and a little different when we were younger, so when I was paired up with Camie… I thought she would help me.”

“By fucking you?” you asked, your frown deepening as you remembered your bitter feelings over Camie stealing Shouto’s virginity.

“She… she said that by being sexual, maybe you would see me as a man, and not the four-year-old crying boy in preschool,” Shouto smiled sadly, his fingers picking at one another. “Me having sex was supposed to show you that I was a man who wanted to see you as a woman in return, but it didn’t work.”

“Well, no shit,” you snort, relaxing a bit although you felt limp. You found yourself leaning against Shouto’s strong shoulders, your head landing heavily on him. “You went from a virgin to fucking anything with a wet hole.”

“...yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Shouto said with regret, his shoulders sagging just a bit. “At first, I thought I needed to fuck more girls to prove I was a man to you because you acted like nothing had happened after Camie… but sex was fun, it felt good.”

“Sex is good,” you agree with a soft chuckle to which he returned.

He shifted a bit, arms tightening and relaxing before he finally admitted, “It helped distract me from you because you looked at others the way I wanted you to look at me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper back.

“No, don’t be,” Shouto speaks firmly, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pressing a kiss to your temple. “It was my fault. I was never assertive enough, confident enough to simply confess.”

“So, does you being in love with me having anything to do with you driving the entire male population away from me?”

Your eyes look up at him, finding his embarrassed gaze before he glances away.

“That actually wasn’t intentional… I guess I just talk about you a lot.”

“Yeah, but still doesn’t mean you couldn’t ever deny it yourself!”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Apologize then.”

“Y/l/n Y/n, I am sorry for making the entire male population we’ve ever come across think we were an item and not telling them otherwise. I am sorry for keeping you from enjoying sex while I continued to. I am lousy, and my love for you should be unreturned because that was ass of me.”

You sigh, your lips pursed to keep from smiling as you looked back at his handsome face.

“Now, ask me the damn question, crybaby.”

“Crybaby?”

“You finally admitted that you were, in fact, crying!!!!!”

If you asked Shishikura Seiji what the worst thing about being the third roommate to Todoroki Shouto and you was, he would give a million and three answers as to why it was the worst.

One: he absolutely hated how loud the both of you were. Todoroki Shouto was someone he thought was quiet and introverted, but whenever he was around you, he was loud. You were just plain old loud, and he thought it was annoying.

Two: he absolutely hated your rice. Call it petty, but after you fed him on his first night and tried putting him into a chokehold for saying the song your rice cooker sang at its end was the stupidest fucking thing ever made, everything you made taste like ash and dirt.

Twenty: he hated that there were biweekly karaoke nights. He would be studying away in his room and wanted to die when he heard the all too familiar sound of Mamma Mia’s Here We Go Again blasting in the living room.

Hundred fifty-seven: SO. MUCH. FUCKING. SEX.

Three hundred thirteen: SO. MUCH. DRINKING.

Five thousand: SO. MUCH. WEED.

Ten thousand three: you put his toilet seat up whenever you’re drunk, so he falls in when he goes to pee in the morning.

Five hundred: the way the both of you looked at each other, fucking disgusting.

To say the least, there were a lot of many different reasons scaling from actual issues to petty small shit, but Shishikura was not in any position to find a new apartment, so he stayed. To be quite honest, having been living with Dumb and Dumber (you and Shouto, respectively), he only thought there would be one thing that would make him lose his actual mind.

The day that would inevitably come and the both of you realized your feelings were, in fact, returned. He didn’t want to even imagine how the animalistic sex he often had to hear coming from your hallway would increase, or the sappy stupid romantic love he would see in the living room because as best friends, you both had no care for PDA and if you were allowed to kiss? Allowed to have sex? He feared he would have to wear a hazmat suit in every corner of the apartment. You both were already incredibly loud as a duo (see reason one as to why he hates living here); he feared the worst when the mutual love was realized.

But he exited his room a week after that Sunday morning with a fully loaded water gun just in case. His eyes narrowed, the hair on his neck raised as his beady eyes focused in on the living room.

Shouto sat on the couch, his back on the armrest, and you sitting between his thighs as you watched him play some game on his Switch, your smile large and annoyingly bright, but he realized that he couldn’t hear you screaming or speaking so loudly he could listen to the conversation.

No, as a matter of fact, Shishikura couldn’t hear a single word; the words being exchanged between you and Shouto spoke so softly, so intimately, it shocked him. Shishikura noticed with an almost awed surprise that even though your smile was as annoyingly bright as before. It wasn’t directed at anything but Shouto, and Shouto’s smile, while nowhere near as big, just as warm and full to you.

It was intimate, romantic even.

Nothing had changed in your relationship except now, finally, now, you were allowed to kiss and fuck each other like heat-driven animals.

Shishikura was shocked to his core, unable to comprehend the sight in front of him.

You nor Shouto paid him any mind, too lost in the game and in each other to look his way as he made his way into the kitchen for his lunch. Shishikura set the water gun on the counter, a small smile spreading on his face despite himself, and chuckled.

Maybe the two of you together weren’t something to hate on after all.

“Hey, is that a water gun?!”

[volleychumps]

AHHH CAN WE DO A PART 2 OF YOUR EX APPROACHING YOU WHILE THE BOYS ARE AROUND? WITH AKAASHI, KUROO, IWA AND ATSUMU? I LOVED THE FIRST ONE 🥺🤩🤩🤩

Thank you for 2.6k you guys!!!! Here are some possessive volleynerds for you lovelies<33 

And thank you sm for the request love I love the diversity in teams- writing in scenarios aha 

Warnings: cursing, this is a douchey ex so he does say some pretty shitty things lol

Continuation of This One 

S/O With a Douchebag Ex (Akaashi, Kuroo, Iwaizumi, and Atsumu) 

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

Akaashi 

“Hey! You did so well out there!” 

Akaashi offers a glimpse of a smile at your excited figure in the stands as he jogs up the steps to where you are, feeling the tiredness seem to drift away as he takes the seat next to you. You grin when one of his arms loops around your waist to tug you into his side, not minding the slightly sweaty setter as he sighs into your shoulder in content. 

“I’m so glad you made it. Now please tell them I’m asleep.” 

“What-?”

You sweatdrop when seemingly on cue, Bokuto and Konoha run up the same steps of the bleachers, pointing at Akaashi’s “sleeping” figure in accusation. 

“I knew it! I knew he would run off to Y/N the minute we finished-” 

“Sh.” You put a finger to your lips as Bokuto pauses, feeling a laugh bubble up in your throat when Akaashi’s lips curl into a smile aginst your shoulder. “He’s tired.” 

“Oh boo hoo look at you two all cute and shit.” Konoha snips, settling on the other side of you as you roll your eyes. “Bite me.” 

“Don’t be bitter you’re single.” You laugh as the rest of Fukurodani settle in the bleachers around you, humming a little as Akaashi holds you a little tighter in thanks as he uses you to recharge. 

“Well isn’t this a fucking sight.” 

You tense up immediately at the voice that belongs to the newcomer, your frozen state not going unnoticed by the blue-eyed boy who still had his eyes closed, a frown now growing on his lips. 

“Still whoring around, Y/N? All these boys waiting their turn?” 

Bokuto and Komi had both begun to stand up, and you cast a sharp glance at both of them that had them both sitting back down with a shared glare in their pupils. You breathe in a shaky sigh before offering a wobbly smile to your ex, not noticing that blue-green eyes had snapped open and Akaashi had lazily looked up at your ex with a lit flame behind his eyes before you could stop him. 

“Say it again.” His voice is soft as you sigh. No stopping him now. 

Your ex tried to hide his nervousness at Akaashi’s lazy stare that held a deadly feel with a feigned chuckle. “What?” 

“I said,” Akaashi stands, towering to his full height that seemed a little more intimidating than usual as he towers over your ex, grabbing his shirt and pulling him closer with a head tilt. The mix of tiredness and annoyance was evident on Akaashi’s face as he feels irritation bubble in his stomach at someone openly insulting his girlfriend. 

“Say it again. You think I care if we’re in public?” 

You gape at his thug-like actions along with the team, and your ex shoves your boyfriend off with a growl before casting you one more glare. 

“This isn’t over.” 

“I’d say it is.” Akaashi steps in front of your line of vision, jutting his chin to the side in a motion for him to get the hell out of here. “Now kindly leave before I kindly resort to getting physical.” 

You feel your heartbeat pick up when your ex spins on his heel cowardly, Akaashi collapsing back in his seat to lay his head back on your shoulder. 

“Violence is tiring.” 

“Y-Y/N, I’m scared-” 

“Who the hell have you been hanging out with ‘Kaashi?!” 

You nudge him slightly, smiling gratefully as Akaashi props one eye open, only replying to you and ignoring his teammates inquiries- 

“Thank you.” 

“I have him recorded on my phone, so no need to worry anymore. I could ruin him in a second.” 

You cast a glance to Konoha, realizing just how frightening Akaashi could be when pissed off for the right reasons. 

“..I think I’m scared too.” 

“Oh shush.” Akaashi kisses your shoulder, arms resting around your waist as his voice mumbles in your ear, all teasing fading from your voice as a safety net extends across your heart. 

“No scum gets to talk about you like that, angel.” 

Kuroo

“I have half the mind to just abandon you.” 

“Noooo!” You whine, willing your legs to keep walking as Kuroo looks behind him amusedly, hand clasped in yours as the raven-haired captain attempts to tug you along. “Who’s idea was it to walk this big ass park again?” 

“...yours.” 

“Nuh-uh.” You deny with a pout, prompting Kuroo to snort before tugging you to one of the nearby benches, sitting you down sweetly as you pout up at him. 

“I swear it’s like I’m your babysitter more than your boyfriend, kitten.” 

“That’s called-” You use both hands to make a rainbow shape with a seemingly innocent grin as Kuroo hits you with a deadpan stare. “Pedophilia~” 

“Aaaaand that’s it, I’m abandoning you-” 

“Wait, I was joking!” You grab his hand when he spins on his heel, thinking he was simply being overdramatic before Kuroo winks once, kissing your knuckle. 

“As if I would actually do that. Do you want milktea or iced tea?” 

Your pout grows as you retract your hand. “Milktea.” 

“Stop pouting, you’re prettier when you smile.” 

“And for that reason, I will continue to pout because you told me to stop- ow!” 

You glare at your boyfriend’s teasing smirk as he walks off, rubbing the spot on your forehead where he flicked before basking in the feeling of relaxing your legs, deciding to enjoy the rest time while you can. 

As your hands massage at your calves, a voice makes your heart drop into your stomach. 

“Y/N?” 

The feeling of wanting to disappear spreads over your chest as you slowly meet the eyes of someone you had never wanted to see again, a scoff falling out of his lips at the sight of you. 

“Did your newest toy leave you already?” He questions sickeningly sweet as your gaze drops back down to your shoes, bottom lip trembling at just the sound of his voice. 

“Did he use you for your body like all the rest did?” 

“N-No, not that that’s any of your business anyways.” You mumble, still not meeting his eyes as you wish Kuroo would come back faster, your ex taking another step forward with a smirk holding no good intentions. 

“Well, why don’t we go back to the good old days, hm?” He reaches for your wrist, and just as you flinch-

“Oops. My hand slipped.” 

Your eyes widen as Kuroo’s iced americano had created a puddle on the floor in which your ex stood, a pissed-off expression in the feral boy’s eyes as he smiles with no kindness behind it, fake-apology slipping off his tongue. 

“Sorry about that! Man, I’m suddenly wishing I got it hot.” Kuroo throws the lid over his shoulder, not reacting when your ex turns on him, his grin simply widening when your ex realizes just how broad and tall your new boyfriend was. 

“Are we good?” Kuroo continues, taking his other hand out of his pocket with seemingly innocent intentions as his gaze darkens, smile borderline sinister. 

“Or do you have business with my girlfriend?” Kuroo makes a point to step in front of you, crossing his arms with a strained grin. “Because in all honesty, you’re getting a little too close for comfort, hm? Or do I need to show you the meaning of too close for comfort?” 

The tone of Kuroo’s voice sends a shiver down your spine as you see just how hard Kuroo is clenching his fists, restraining himself but still casting you reassuring glances to calm you down. 

“Tsk.” Your ex casts you one more promising death glare before spinning on his heel. “I don’t have time to play with trash anyways.” 

Kuroo watches as he walks off, smile gone and replaced with a frown as his eyes seem to gleam with a dark look to them, softening a little when you reach out to tug on his sleeve. 

“Kitten, did he do anything to you, because I can go after him. I’ve never once feared prison-” 

“Tetsurou.” You whisper, lifting your head to meet his worried gaze through watery eyes as you wish you could respond to his joke the way he would want you to. “Can you maybe just...hold me?” 

“I’ll do you one better. You can ride on my back while we go back to the coffee shop to go buy my coffee that I uh, dropped. Deal?” 

“Deal.” you interlock pinkies with him as he hoists you on his back, Kuroo pretending not to notice your weakness as you bury your head in his neck and cry as he walks along. He turns his head a little, smiling softly when your tears wet his shoulder. 

“Oi, just so you know- I would never abandon you. So don’t worry your pretty little head over nothing, kitten.”

Iwaizumi

“Hajime, please don’t get the candy- just get popcorn and the drinks.” 

“What?” Iwa blinks as if you had just offended him, handing you the two tickets as he arches a confused brow. “But you always get candy.” 

“I’m dieting!” You proclaim proudly, and Iwaizumi stares at you for a solid six seconds before turning around. 

“Anyways, do you want chocolate or the gummies?” 

“Did you not hear-” 

“Oh I heard. But there’s no need to diet when you’re already...” 

“Already?” You grin cheekily as you see the tips of his ears turn red. 

“You’re getting chocolate.” 

“Hajime-” You sigh as he rushes away from you towards the counter, leaving you to examine the ticket stubs with a bouncing in your chest. Iwaizumi wasn’t the most open about his feelings towards you, but it was clear that he definitely cared- and that’s all that really mattered. 

You really thought nothing would ruin this night.

“Look what we have here! How’ve you been, Y/N?” 

You still when an arm gets thrown over your shoulder, feeling your breathing hitch at the sight of someone you hadn’t seen in months. Automatically, you go to step away only for a hug to be forced on you, and you feel your eyes brim with unshed tears as your world seems to stop for a second. 

“You missed me, didn’t you? Why’d you leave me, Y/N? Fate must be telling us-” 

You squeak when your the back of your shirt is pulled strongly, relaxing at the feel of Iwaizumi’s chest on your back as you could hear his breaths attempting to be steady. A laugh almost bubbles out of your throat when you see his other arm was cradling a bucket of popcorn with various other snacks inside of it. 

“Y/N.” Iwaizumi looks down at you seriously, voice blunt. “Want me to hurt him?” 

You blanch at the straight-laced tone of your boyfriend, but you find yourself wanting to smile- 

“Ah. So you’re why she left. That little slut left me because you came into the picture, huh?” 

Iwaizumi suddenly gets an unreadable look in his eye as his bangs seem to cover the dark irises, humorless chuckle slipping his lips as you put a hand on his arm, panicked. His breaths were no longer controlled. 

“Hold this.” You blink when he hands you the bucket of popcorn, eyes bewildered before Iwaizumi rolls his sleeves up, taking his time as your ex laughs mockingly at the sight. 

“What, are you really gonna hurt me in a-” 

“Yup.” 

You flinch when Iwaizumi shamelessly kicks him to the floor as if he were nothing, fire blazing in his dark eyes as you grip the bucket a little tighter, watching as Iwa bends down to his level, ignoring the crowd beginning to form. 

“So not only are you openly going to touch my girlfriend when I’m not near her when she obviously doesn’t like it- you’re gonna call her names too when I’m standing right here?” Iwaizumi tilts his head the slightest bit to the side, just enough to send shivers down his spine. 

“Still want to see if I’m really going to do it?” Iwaizumi asks in a bored manner, beginning to reel his fist back as your ex squeaks out a no, scrambling away with his hands before angrily glancing at you in his escape. 

Iwa gets back up, dusting his hands off as if nothing had happened before walking back up to you and popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. 

“What theatre are we in?” 

“Hajime, you just-” 

“I wasn’t actually going to punch him.” 

“That’s not the point.” 

“Hey.” Iwaizumi uses his finger to wipe at the stray tears in the corner of your eyes. “He made you cry, didn’t he?” 

Your eyes widen as your heart bounces around in your chest, Iwaizumi tugging you along as he mumbles something about the movie starting soon. 

“As if I’d let some nobody talk about you like that when you’re...” 

“When I’m...?” The smile comes back as Iwaizumi finds himself wanting to see it even more before groaning, refusing to look back at you. 

“Perfect. There, I said it. Now can we just watch this damn Godzilla movie before your chocolate melts into the popcorn?” 

Atsumu

“You’re here!” 

“And you’re sweaty!” You giggle, hugging Atsumu back with both arms outside the volleyball practice gym of Inarizaki as he lifts you off the ground, prompting you to squeal a little. “Don’t tell me you’re going home like this...?” 

“He’s not.” 

You laugh as Kita hits Atsumu upside the head, causing your boyfriend to whine as the captain casts you a sorry stare. 

“Why he wouldn’t shower before coming to greet you in a filthy state is beyond me.” 

“He is standing right here- don’t be mad because you don’t have a cute girl waiting for you.” That last part comes out as a mumble as an irk mark openly emerges on Kita’s head as Atsumu subtly steps behind your giggling form. 

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Atsumu mumbles, pouting as he looks down at you before hugging you from behind tightly. “I’ll shower. Five minutes- no, three minutes tops-” 

“Disgusting. Again Y/N, I’m sorry.” Kita bows at you apologetically before dragging an over-dramatic Atsumu back into the gym as he winks at you in a be back before you know it gesture. You lean back against the wall, shaking your head at your playful boyfriend as you deem it fine to wait a little longer as you swipe through your phone.

“Waiting for someone?”

Your thumb freezes upon your screen as the voice fills your ears, and you boredly meet the eyes of your ex-boyfriend before scoffing and turning your attention back to your phone. 

“Why are you even here? Since when do you play volleyball?” You mock, fighting to keep the strain out of your voice as your ex leans a bit too close on the wall-space next to you. 

“You’ve been avoiding me.” 

“Oh? Have I?” You feign shock, still not looking up at your screen as the device gets ripped from your grip, your ex holding it out of reach as your eyes widen. 

“After everything we’ve been through you have the audacity to give your time to someone else?” You flinch at the words directed to you, the manipulative words spinning in your mind as his grip tightens around your wrist, now pinning you to the wall. 

“Answer me.” 

You clench your eyes shut, willing it all to go away as you hear him chuckle. 

“Adorable.” 

“Yeah. She is.” Your eyes snap open as relief floods your system, a few droplets falling from Atsumu’s hair as he grabs the collar of your ex, flinging him back carelessly as he falls on his ass. Your boyfriend doesn’t even glance back at him, cupping your face carefully with a reassuring smile on his face. 

“Sorry. I said three minutes but actually took five.” He kisses the tip of your nose before frowning, finally glancing behind him. “And wow, this is some luck.”

“Atsumu-” 

“Kidding, kidding.” Atsumu grins. “After I finish this up, care to go get a parfait?” 

“Finish-?” You find yourself under Atsumu’s jacket, obscuring your vision effectively as Atsumu bends down to the level of your ex, smile easygoing but eyes gleaming with a tinge of anger. 

“I’ll take that.” Atsumu plucks your phone out of his tightened grip, smile slowly falling from his lips as he glances back to make sure you weren’t watching before tugging your ex his shirt so his mouth is near his ear. 

“I’m playing nice because of the cute girl standing over there, but if you show your ugly-ass face anywhere around her when you think I’m not there?” Atsumu grins in satisfaction at the fear that flashes across his face, letting go of his shirt as his back hits the floor.

“Playtime’s over.” 

“A-Atsumu?” 

The setter doesn’t need to glance back to know that he was already gone, humming sweetly as he takes his jacket off your head, stroking your hair soothingly when you hug him tightly. 

“God, you’re going to make me never want to leave you alone again. That was three minutes.” 

“...five minutes. ” You say, and Atsumu rolls his eyes playfully before smiling into your hair, thankful you couldn’t see the relieved expression on his own face that you were okay before hugging you a little tighter, mumbling into your hair. 

“No one gets to touch you like that, sweetheart. Not even me.” 

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

General works: @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb @dreebbles @takemetovalhalla @yams046

[xgryffinwhore]

september nights

request:  i was wondering if you could write another soft bill smut? i don’t really have a specific plot in mind, we’re just really lacking content on tumblr rn :( in some really precarious place where they don’t want to get caught

warnings: soft smut, like i mean very soft.

word count: 2118

before your lips met bill denbrough’s, love was always, to say the least, a conundrum. lets be real for second, boys wasted your time, and you let them. only the cute ones of course. you are a hopeless romantic, drunk off of molly ringwald and john travolta films. you wanted any relationship you had to be just like the movies.

through your heart breaks, your best friends stood by you, your losers. eddie, richie, bev, stan, ben, and bill. for each tear you shed a punch was thrown to the man who caused it, they were protective over you. bill the most though, he always got so defensive when you were in the mix. all throughout middle & high school, bill has had to deal with every guy who even dares to think about breaking your heart.

“its not fair bill” you wailed into your pillow. he stroked your back and hushed you, his eyes welling with tears. “im never fucking good enough for any guy and its so fucking sad!” your complaints being cut off mid sentence by a choked out cry. “y-y/n. all of y-your boyfriend are i-idiots. anyone w-who would d-d-do this to you isnt w-worth your t-time. anyone w-would be the luckiest in the w-world to have y-you in their life” you picked your head up and looked at him with swollen lips and blood shot eyes “there no one out there for me bill, no one.” 

he bit his lip, fighting back any tears dripping from his eyes “they j-just dont see how p-pretty you are. how g-gentle and caring and s-s-sweet, and h-how your face c-can light up any room. theyre f-fucking idiots, and you d-deserve m-more.” you clearly thought he was being nice, because you could take a MOTHER FUCKING GOD DAMN hint, so you replied “i wish there was someone out there like you, for me, that thinks of me the way you do.” 

he furrowed his brows, tossing his head back and running his fingers furiously through his hair. “d-dammit y/n!” he cursed “cant you s-see what ive b-been trying to say? w-w-what ive been t-trying to say f-for the last f-five years!?!” your expression was bewildered, your brain was going a mile a minute trying to figure out what he meant. his frustration got the best of him, he got up and stormed out the door,  feeling embarrassed and stupid for trying to make you understand how he felt.

he was half way out your front door, fuming for his keys lodged deep into his front pocket; when suddenly:

“bill!”

his head turned at the call of his name, “y-y/n please i d-”

smack.

your lips locked with his, he rain pouring heavily outside. bills lips stilled at the contact, but this lasted briefly, he deepened this kiss by pulling you in to his abdomen by your mid back. your bunched the front of his base ball t shirt with your fists, and he did the same but with your hair.

the rest is basically history.

now six months later, and you couldnt have been happier. bill knew how to treat you, nights out twice a week (you always wanted to pay but bill insisted,) holding your hand to and from classes, he let you borrow have his varsity baseball jacket, which smelt just like him and was a little too big for you. 

when he would drop you off and your classes, he would always grab your hand and transfer a tiny piece of paper into your palm. when you got into class to unfold it, it was always a cute little message about his love for you. 

bill had it bad for you, everyone knew that, and you loved every minute of it. he met every and any standard you had, and exceeded your expectations. 

it was september, still warm enough in derry to wear shorts, so you and your friends thought of a last hurrah for the ending of the summery weather.

“camp out, its nearly perfect” Richie exclaimed. eddie rolled his eyes “like youve ever been near anything perfect toizer, do you even know what perfect means?” richie shoved eddie “yeah eddie i actually have. have you seen amanda’s tits?”

 you tuned out richie and eddies bickering as you’re boyfriend cleared his throat. “you g-gonna go?” he said into your ear, “only if you promise to wear bug spray bill, you know how bad-” he cut you off with a kiss, his mouth forming a small smile at how cute you were. “get a room, honestly” stan poked, pda wasn’t his favorite... “at least i h-have something to k-kiss aye s-stannie”

you arrived at the edge of the forest, parking your car at the last parking ish space. you walked toward the sounds of ben and richie fighting, and came to see that richie really went all out. three tents, sticks for a fire, and more snacks than anyone needed. 

you all spent the remanence of the daylight dancing in the light sky, sharing stories, and eating waaaay too many chips. it was dark now, you all huddled in a circle near the fire; making small talk and trying not to admit you were all very tired.

“ok folks, im off to bed” richie yawned “me stan eddie n’ mike will take the green tent, bev and ben in the red.” richie paused and smirked over at you and bill, you were tangled in his limbs, golfed in his navy blue pull over. “and uh- heh- billy boy and y/n in the yellow tent eh?” you could practically feel bills eye roll, god richie was so immature.

“w-we dont have to s-sleep in the s-s-same tent, i c-can ask ben if he’d s-switch” you look up at bill and reassure him “bill no- its not a big deal, right?” he tucks your hair behind your ear and kisses the side of your temple “c-course not.”

you both went into the tent, bill began to unroll the blankets you both had packed tightly into your bags. You both set up your makeshift bed, bill leaned against a pile of pillows while you hugged his side, your face buried in his neck. his smell was absolutely intoxicating; his skin had remanence of his milk and honey body wash, but it was slightly overpowered by wintergreen, clove, and his bourbon cologne. 

you were like this for around an hour, the orange crank-powered lantern being the only source of light. you switch positions though, you now laid your head on his lap, reading a magazine you stole from the hair salon. he watched your eyes scan every letter, when you read something funny you’d huff to yourself, and when something was intresting you stuck your tongue out from between your teeth. he adored you.

“d-dont stay up t-too late” he stroked your hair off your shoulder “we have t-to have you w-well r-r-rested.” you sat up from beside him, as he adjusted the pillows and took off his pull over, then his pants. he got under the covers and waited for you.

“nice donut boxers” you laughed. “s-shut up” he blushed and regreted not changing them when he had the chance. you turned around took off your shirt, you were shy about how you looked, but it was just bill. it was just bill. you heard his breath hitch, his eagerness radiating off his body onto yours. the air became tense as you unzipped your pants and threw them to the corner. you turned around, bills pupils growing until you were completely facing him.

“yeah i know. mine are boring” you laugh nervously, brushing your hair behind your ear and getting under the covers next to him. he didnt respond, he couldnt take his eyes off of you.you began to sit up again “i can go put back on-” “n-no!” he interrupts, his blush taking up his entire face.

“i j-j-just cant b-believe i g-get to see something s-so special” he gulped “s-so b-b-b-beautiful.”

you grabbed him by his shoulders and kissed him, hard. youve been with boys before, i mean youve dated plenty of people. but no one ever called your body special. hot, yeah. nice, yeah. beautiful, sure. but no one ever thought that it was special. 

bill was a kind boy, the most you two have ever done is get each other off with your hands, always clothed. bill never asked to see more, he felt lucky enough just to make you feel good, and that was enough for him. so when you felt the heat of his hands hovering over your body but not touching it, you new you’d have to call the shots tonight.

“bill,” you laid down “just touch me everywhere, please.” he crawled in between your legs, kneeling so that he could lean over your face “m-my pleasure.”

he traced your collar, leaving small, delicate, kisses to make up for what his fingers left behind as they trailed. he kissed the valley between your breasts, licking slow striped down your skin. he picked up your upper back a little and cocked his head to the side, you nodded and he unclipped your bra. he sat their with his mouth open, taking in the view. you blushed and muttered “hey, keep that mouth to good use.” he dipped down and sucked on your nipples, his mouth felt so good against your skin grazed with goosebumps. he was gingerly with his tongue, it was sexy, it was romantic. he kissed down your stomach, his fingers sweeping down your sides. you could see his member pressing against his boxers, the pressure made him wince every once in a while. his fingers met your panties and he hooked them. again, he looked up for permission, you nodded once again. 

he brought your underwear down your legs and off, looking back to see what he had relieved. he licked his lips, getting ready to please you more than he already did. but you felt bad, bill always gave gave and gave. “its ok, im ready right now.” bill looked up at you in shock, he wasnt expecting you’d want to go all the way. “y/n, y-youre sure?” you lean up and kiss his lips, swiping your tongue against his bottom lip “please.”

he pulled down his boxers eagerly, his member sprung out to hit his stomach. he lined up with you, checking once more that it was ok. then he pushed in, bottoming out. he felt bigger than you thought, of course he was well endowed, but he filled you up so well. you mewled, the pain and pleasure making a delicious feeling that made your toes curl.

he waited, but began slowly moving after a bit. he grunted, feeling you wrapped around him was something he’d never be able to get out of his head he thought to himself. he grunted “f-fuck this feels g-good’ he grunted, his breath becoming heavy and full of lust. with every stroke, you felt yourself get more and more lost in the bliss he made you feel. “youre making me feel so good  bill” you moan, the sound of his name coming out of your mouth driving him absolutely crazy. he speeds up, loving the view of your face contorting in pleasure and your body moving with his. 

he couldnt help but feel admiration to you, your hair formed a halo around your head, and the sweat that coated your skin made you glisten in the orange light. “im t-the luckiest in the world” he husks, holding your cheek. 

you felt the knot in your core coming undone, “bill im close” you strain, trying not to be too loud so you dont wake your friends. he moved your leg up to his shoulder, hitting you from a different, deeper angle. his fingers went to your clit, making you bite your had to stop you from screaming. “you l-look so p-pretty y/n, t-taking me s-so well. making y-you feel so good.” “so good bill” you repeat, drunken off his cock and fingers. 

without warning, you came came, your legs spazzing as you moaned “fuck bill” he followed, his hips stuttering, as he cried out into your shoulder. he pulled out and laid next to you, both of you breathing heavily and coming off your highs. 

“y/n” he looked at you “t-that was really j-just wow- thank y-you.” you kissed him, chaste and sweet “that was great yeah?” “it w-was perfect babe. t-thank you f-for t-that. i love you y-y/n.”

“i love you too bill.”

he sat up, his fingers dancing on your inner thigh.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

“c-can we p-please do t-that again?”

[emjiroki]

Yuuji Itadori x Reader Underground Fighter AU smut 18+ like always 

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: Blood, illegal fighting, explicit scenes and language

Hope everyone enjoys and has a great weekend! this was just a little something I cooked up from spur of the moment inspiration 🥵

The wet, crunching sound of the other man’s nose exploding under Yuuji’s fist seemed so loud even over the roar of the crowd around him. Blood dripped from his busted knuckles, the tape you wrapped around them beforehand not able to hold up against this fight. It had gone on for six rounds before the broken nose had finally laid his opponent out, four rounds longer than Yuuji had ever gone before, and he was feeling it. Everything was hurting and soaked in sweat, the dust of the ring under their bare feet clouding up in the bright lights and sticking to every inch of uncovered skin. He turned his back to look for you, Nanami checking his opponents pulse as he laid out in the dirt before ending the match with a whistle blow, and even as his ribs pulsed with pain and he could feel his top lip swelling, He smiled. You were always there, standing with Megumi and Gojo in the makeshift stands not even six feet away from the actual ring, there was a reason you never wore white on Fridays. He didn’t know if it was the adrenaline coursing through his blood or your loud cheering and proud declarations of ‘That’s my boyfriend!’ but he knew he needed you. Right now. Nanami had barely announced his victory before he was pulling away, tearing at the tattered tape and throwing it to the ground, heading straight for the locker room where he knew you would be waiting for him now that the crowd was winding down for the next fight. 

“Congrats kid! Made me a good chunk of change tonight!” Gojo said with a bright smile when he opened the door to the “locker room”, if you wanted to call it that, more like two lockers stolen from a run down elementary school and shoved into a room with a small counter and sink. The mirror had long since been smashed and thrown away. 

“Longest match I’ve ever done,” Yuuji said with a groan, stretching his arms above his head and popping his shoulder.

“Yeah well it was the highest paying one so far too,” Gojo smirked, waving a roll of money secured with a rubber band in front of his face, pulling his shorts and sweat soaked underwear away from his body to drop it in. “Keep it up kid, you’re on fire. An unstoppable machine”. The squeaking of the door caught Yuuji’s attention, his amber eyes flicking over to see you in the doorway, Megumi hanging back behind you.

“There you are” He breathed with a relieved grin, groaning when you didn’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him, regardless of the sweat and dirt and blood on his skin.

“You are going to be hurting in the morning,” you commented as you inspected the bruises on his ribs, already darkening as the blood pooled in green and blue splotches. You handed him an open water bottle, Yuuji gratefully drinking and washing his mouth out with half of it before dumping the rest on his head to wash down his back and chest. Your mouth went dry at the sight of his chiseled body dripping from the water, goosebumps raising along his arms as the cool water ran in rivulets between his abs and down the expanse of his stomach to further dampen his shorts. Both of you were flushed when you made eye contact again, heart pounding at the way his pupils swallowed amber and and his hands flexed to grab you. 

“So do you want to be booked for next weekend too or what?” Gojo asked, so quiet he was almost forgotten before breaking the tension. You could see Yuuji’s jaw tighten.

“Don’t care. You want money right?” The pink haired boy said, not breaking eye contact with you as he reached for your waist to pull you closer against him. The loud clang of the bell signifying a new match rang out through the main area outside the door.

“Well that’s my six o’clock,” Gojo said, opening the door to a roaring crowd, “See you next friday, money maker”. As soon as the door was shut Yuuji was on you, arms circling around you and carrying you over to the countertop next to the sink, his bruised lips descending on yours even as he flinched from pain. 

“Yuuji. Baby” You gasped between his fervent kisses, “Let me take care of you first, you’re all busted up.” 

“Don’t care.” He panted, digging his teeth lightly into your bottom lip, “Need you. Now”. His knuckles hurt as he scraped them against your jean shorts, pulling them down along with your underwear in a fluid movement and leaving a small streak of blood against your thigh. 

“Love, you're bleeding,” You said, pulling his hand into yours. He quirked a boyish smile up at you, holding his hand up to your lips. 

“Kiss it? make it better?” Yuuji asked with sweet, pleading puppy dog eyes. There was something about the blood from his knuckles spreading across your lips as you lightly kissed the busted skin that had his cock throbbing. A needy, unrepressed moan escaped him as he captured your mouth with his, tongue licking against your bottom lip to clean the blood and beg for entrance. 

“The-The door isn’t even locked” You said with a moan as his calloused hands ran up your stomach to pull the cup of your bra down under your breast to push the nipple into his fingers. 

“After what I just did to that guy out there, I doubt anyone is going to say a fucking word to me” He said roughly, voice almost a growl as he pressed hot kisses from your mouth down the column of your throat. That was a fair point. Yuuji turned into someone you almost didn’t recognize the moment he steps into the ring, like something in his brain changes and he shuts out everything that isn’t the most savage instincts. The need to survive taking precedence over the want for victory, and that seemed to always be his secret. There was no showboating, only destruction. As much as you hated to see him hurt and bloody, it was something he loved to do and made great money under the table. And it was probably the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. His muscles tightening in anticipation of Nanami’s whistle and the pure animalistic energy pouring off of him when the fight begins. Everything about it, except the aftermath of bruises, was so incredibly sexy to you. 

“Please baby,” Yuuji whined as he pulled you to sit at the edge of the counter, his hard cock grinding up against your wet pussy. “Need to fill you up.” 

“Okay, just- just don’t hurt yourself,” You said with a groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips. With a relieved sigh, he stepped away to pull his shorts and underwear down, and as impressive as it always was to see his hard cock arch up to his abdomen, you both couldn't help but notice the roll of money fall out to the floor. You gave him a questioning look, trying not to laugh and ruin the moment. 

“All I have to say is Gojo put that there”. You both ended up laughing for a minute, Yuuji leaning his forehead into yours and kissing the tip of your nose. 

“You ready?” he asked, sliding the head of his cock up and down through your wet folds. You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed forward, bottoming out easily with the wetness around him. 

“Of course you are” He groaned, pausing for a moment as your tight heat pulsed and he tightened his hands around your waist, “Always ready for me.” Yuuji was trying to go slow at first, savor the feeling of you and enjoy this more than any victory, but once you squeezed around him with the prettiest moan spilling from your lips that was it. His thrust sped up, skin slapping skin urgently as he groaned into your shoulder, the feeling of your nails in his skin only spurring him on more. 

“Yuuji please. Too much” You moaned,burning pleasure shooting through you with every snap of his hips.

“I can’t stop baby, You can take it. Know you can,” He panted, fresh sweat wettening his forehead and rolling down his face as he humped against you. Your toes curled inside your shoes as you came, his name flowing from your lips like a prayer and only bringing his pleasure higher.

“Gonna pump you full sweetheart,” Yuuji said roughly, latching his lips to your collarbone and sucking up a bruise. 

“Please Yuuji, Please fuck me till you cum” You begged, probably a little too loudly, as he moaned against the hollow of you throat. You felt his cock twitch inside of you as he came, the feeling of his hot cum filling you sending a shiver down your spine as he kissed and licked praises against your now sweaty skin. 

“Thank you Baby. Thank you, thank you, thank you” He groaned, nuzzling against the skin behind your ear. You both made a disappointed sound when his cock softened and slipped free, Yuuji quickly pulling your panties up to trap his thick cum against your swollen pussy. 

“Feeling better?” You asked, hopping down from the counter and handing him a towel to wipe himself. 

“In one way yes but in most ways no,” He said with a blush to his cheeks, “I’m sore as fuck and I know it’ll be worse tomorrow”. 

“Well I’ll take care of you” You smiled, helping him grab his backpack and slip on his shoes. 

“I know you will,” Yuuji grinned, kissing you softly, “gotta get me back in for next weekend.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his busted knuckles. 

“My little money maker”. 

[aki-mochi]

Levi x Reader: Drunk Love

WARNING: NSFW!! Levi stood there, completely nude, in front of Erwin and Hanji as he covered his stuff while avoiding their gazes. His cheeks turning pink with his hair messy with fly-aways in every direction and his body covered in bites and hickeys. Erwin stood in Levi's living room, not amused, while Hanji was laughing until she was in tears.

"Sooo...you wanna tell me why you are...?" Erwin trailed off.

"I dunno....I-I...just woke up like this...."

"You were drinking last night, huh?" Erwin asked, more like stated.

"A little...." he mumbled, then clicked his tongue.

"Woooow Levi~!" Hanji laughed more.

"Shut up" Levi slightly growled as he tried to remember his actions last night.

~flashback~

Levi sat at a table in a bar with a few of his friends and co-workers, passing time and attempting to get away from the stress of work. Eren, who happened to be one of his best workers, offered him some food while drinking his drink. No sooner did another song start to play, a familiar woman entered the bar with Mikasa.

"I've never been in a bar.” Mikasa stated.

"We can't buy alcoholic beverages so we can just have water and some food. Give us some free time from all the work we've been asked to do." Y/n replied.

She nodded in agreement, looking around at her surroundings only to see the men at Levi's table looking towards them. Truth be told, Y/n and Mikasa worked in the same building as Levi, just on different floors. The two had met on a few occasions and even had small talk in the elevator whenever they were going to the same floor for meetings, but never actually got close to one another.

Levi glanced at the two as they came in and made a bit of a face. "I guess they're getting the same thing you are, Eren." He smirked behind his glass as he looked at Eren's drink suited for him being underaged. Eren pouted and gave somewhat of a glare towards his boss. "If you weren't my boss, and I wanted to not get fired, I'd slap you like I do Horse-face." He mumbled in his glass of apple juice.

"You sound like you're plenty drunk on apples," Levi stated as he set his glass down. "Now you finally have a chance to talk to that girl. I've seen you eyeing her at work." Hearing his comment, Eren did a spit-take with his drink; coughing and pounding his chest a bit. Once he got his breath back, he looked at Levi like he grew two heads.

"Are you insane or drunk?!" He slightly yelled in a whispered tone.

"I'm neither. You shout about being better at your job than The Titan Company down the road but you can't even talk to a girl."

"Yeah?! W-well what about the girl you stare at?! You seem like you stalk her!"

"The only time I even see her is on the elevator. Are you sure you aren't drinking beer?" Levi retorted.

"I'm underage to be drinking unless someone spiked it when I wasn't looking." Eren calmly stated as he took another drink.

"If no one did, they might need to so you can actually grow some balls for at least an hour and act like a man instead of a loud little kid."

Eren glared. "Shut the hell up....I do act mature. Just on some levels." He, then, turned away to stare at the ebony female with a slight blush on his slightly dark skin.

”Can you prove that?" Levi smirked at Eren's attitude.

"What did you say?" Eren growled, thinking his boss is picking a fight when he doesn't feel like throwing a punch while Mikasa is here.

"I said to prove that you aren't a child and go talk to her," Levi told him.

"Fine. I will." He suddenly stood up and walked towards the two sisters, feeling confident in his moves. Levi smirked as he watched, wanting to see how much of a train wreck it would turn into. But the minute Eren was only five steps away, he froze. His face turned a sheer scarlet red and felt his palms get sweaty. But what he didn't expect to happen, was that Mikasa noticed him and gave a small wave to him, making him lose his cool and speed-walking back to his seat before face planting the table. Mikasa flushed a faint pink but couldn't help to give a minuscule smirk from his failure to walk over.

"You’re a wuss" Levi muttered.

"Fuck you....." Eren mumbled against the table.

Levi smirked and took a sip of his whiskey before standing. "Let me show you how it's done," he stated as Eren groaned and watched him as he made his way towards the girls.

Levi walked over to the older of the two with a confident stride, the alcohol taking the edge off of his normal attitude. Y/n was too busy talking to Mikasa to notice him. Taking a french fry off her plate, she ate it and smiled as she was talking about her latest masterpiece for the company due to being in the advertising department. Mikasa mentioned a work project that’s due next week before looking over Y/n's shoulder to see the male.

"This seat taken?" Levi asked.

Y/n turned towards the voice of the male and her eyes widened. "M-Mr. Ackerman....! It's nice to see you again." She smiled softly at him.

"The same to you" he stated. "We don't see each other often. I thought we could talk."

"Of course! Come sit with me!" She smiled and patted the seat on the other side of her. He gladly sat, looking towards Eren and winking in success mainly to show off before talking to the two women. Eren growled and slammed his hands on the table and walked over once more before offering a hand at the grey-eyed female.

"May I sit with the beauty who I'm looking at~?" He asked with a smile.

Mikasa looked and blushed brightly at his words but nodded. “Sure."

With a small hum, Eren sat beside her before gently holding her waist to bring her closer to him. Her blush darkened, looking at her plate of food like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Y/n eyed the boy, a little surprised at his actions before drinking her iced water, smirking behind her glass as she knew Mikasa has a crush on him. Levi rolled his eyes, ignoring Eren as he talked to Y/n, keeping up a conversation about her interests. About an hour later, Levi was not feeling like his usual self. His cheeks were flushed while his eyes were dilated, black pupils taking up more of his steel-blue corneas. Y/n had offered to take him home while Mikasa stayed with Eren since he's completely sober. After that, Mikasa waved as she left with the green-eyed boy.

He tried to refuse, saying he was fine but she insisted, eventually giving up as he slumped over the table. Y/n slung one of Levi's arms around her neck; the other around his waist while leading him outside. Digging in his back pocket for his wallet and keys, she pressed a button to activate its panic alarm. Upon hearing a frantic horn, she turned to her left to see the flashing lights of a sleek black Ford Mustang. After calming the automobile, she gently helped a drunk Levi into the passenger side before slipping herself behind the wheel. Y/n opened up his wallet and found a small piece of paper with his name and address written in beautiful cursive. Pulling up the GPS on her phone, she punched in his home address to help her navigate before revving up the engine and beginning to drive to him home.

Levi did his best to keep the alcohol's side effects from taking over, grinning as he remembered the feeling of her hand in his pocket but stayed quiet until they got to his house. Once Y/n had gotten him out of his car and into his house, after she had unlocked the door with his keys, she walked him to his room and placed him in bed. She gave a small huff from how heavy he is for a short man. As she tried to leave the room, Levi had grabbed her wrist to keep her in place.

"(Y/n)," he muttered.

"Levi. You're drunk. You need to rest." She said softly so as not to hurt his pounding head.

"Only if you rest with me." He said, not because of how many shots he’s had, but because he’s wanted her since the first day he saw her and this was the only way he could get himself to say it. Y/n smiled and pried his hand off her arm so she could help him get comfortable by stripping him of his clothes. Y/n flushed a scarlet red when he was now only in his briefs which held a proud tent.

He smirked a bit as he watched her. "You can look if you want"

"I-I rather not, thank you...." she stuttered before going to find him some bed clothes he could wear; giving him time to look over her body that was shown by the jeans and shirt she's wearing. Her hair pulled up into a ponytail and her feet dressed in regular tennis shoes. He blushed from more than the booze in his system as he looked over her, letting her help him dress before laying in the bed with him. Y/n covered him up along with herself and sighed softly as she turned her back to him so she can sleep since it's after midnight.

But with Levi still drunk, he couldn't go to sleep. No. He didn’t want to go to sleep. He had a beautiful woman in his bed and he wanted her to be his woman. No one else’s. Levi took advantage of his drunk state and suddenly rolled Y/n onto her back, pinning her to the bed. She blinked, shocked from his sudden actions.

"L-Levi....?" she stuttered.

"Y/n.....~” he purred in her ear while sliding his hands up her shirt, making her shiver at his cold slender hands on her heated skin. "Let me love you," he whispered before colliding her lips with his own, making her body stiffen. She soon felt intoxicated by his touch and kissed him back, craving for more as she entangled her fingers into his soft black hair as she moaned.

Levi kissed her deeply as his hands made their way to her breasts, feeling the soft flesh against his skin. Arching her back at the feeling, she pulled away from his lips for air but gasping the minute he latches his own to her sensitive neck. She moaned his name when he bit her neck then pulled back with a smirk. Y/n looked down to see that Levi had, somehow, stripped her bare naked without her noticing. Trailing kisses down her body, she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair again as she closed her legs when he got between them. He rubbed her thighs soothingly before kissing them to help her relax. Once he thought she was ready, Levi opened her legs and placed his head between them. His tongue slid along her folds before flicking at her clit. Her hips jolted upwards while her fingers tugged at his hair, giving loud lewd moans.

Levi smirked and started to go faster, making her squirm and squeal in complete ecstasy as he tasted every inch of her. He then sucked her bundle of nerves into his mouth as his tongue did wonders. Y/n panted as she arched her back off the bed while her head flew back into the pillows, desperately wanting to move away but his hands held her down in place as he ravished her more. His teeth gently grazed her clit, making her lose control of the volume of her moans as they got even louder before she finally released with a squeak. But Levi kept going, making her beg as he continued to drain her of every drop before pulling off with a small pop. A trembling Y/n laid there panting heavily as Levi licked her clean, sitting up to look down at the beautiful sight under him. Levi chuckled and laid beside her with his arm draped over her waist.

Y/n calmed down from her overstimulated high before she made the bold move to pin him to the bed instead. Levi looked up at her in slight shock from the sudden move before his breath started to hitch when she started to rub the bulge in his pants. She hummed and stripped him bare of any clothes before suddenly going down to suck his cock. Levi's hips bucked at the sudden pleasure of her hot mouth on him, panting as he felt her tongue do circles around the tip.

"(Y-Y/n)~" Levi moaned as he gripped the sheets. "Ngh...! I-I'm gonna....! Ah!" he gave a loud moan as he came in her mouth. Y/n swallowed it all, a little disappointed that he came that quick, and sat up before marking him in hickeys and love bites, loving the sounds that were coming from his mouth. After she was satisfied with her work, she straddled his hips before pushing herself onto him, making her gasp and him moan. When she felt comfortable, she bounced on him as her hands rested on his chest. Loud slapping noises of skin colliding and loud moans filled the room. Y/n decided to bounce faster and go all the way down, earning her a loud moan from Levi as he gripped her hips to help her keep steady.

Pretty soon they both hit their high and came together. Y/n collapsed onto Levi's chest, panting heavily as he held her close to him. Having to pull out, he laid both their bodies on the bed and pulled her to his chest after covering them both with the blanket and going to sleep.

~back to the present~

Y/n walked out of the bathroom only to see a naked Levi standing there, in front of his boss and co-worker as he tried to suppress his blush. Smirking, the said female walked over and wrapped her arms around his waist from behind and satisfied hum.

"Don't worry, Mr. Smith~. Levi was a good boy last night with all the moans I made him do~."

At that, Hanji ran out with Erwin on her tail, trying to suppress their nose bleeds while Levi was a blushing mess at the moment from her comment. Y/n laughed at his reaction and kissed him briefly before giving him a warm smile and going to make breakfast. Levi sighed as he went back to his room to get dressed.

'Maybe getting drunk wasn't so bad after all......'

[capt-spooki3]

By The Witch's Grace

Chapter One

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

It seems Y/n, a known and hated magic user in their small town, has a lot to deal with after the rowdy bunch that is Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy, show up at their door step in the midst of a giant snow storm...

Warning: Cursing, talk of hate/discrimination

2.6k words

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“Alright, we need flour, milk, apples... Uh no no stop meowing, please. Shit okay, flour, milk, apples, and what? Oh god, was it- oh! Bottles! Of course, geez.” Y/n laughs at themself before kneeling down, and pets the head of their cat who was demanding their attention. The little feline, who looked like a little toasted marshmallow, purred and meowed as she was happy with the much-needed attention.

“Alright Poppy, I’ll be back. Be a good little girl for me, okay? I’ll be back in time to give you supper I promise.” They baby talked to the cat with little forehead kisses before getting back up to their feet and reaching toward the wall where a large cloak was hung on a large nail next to the door. They threw on the heavy fabric and clasped the small glass button to keep it on their shoulders, their hand lingering as it passed over the glassy eye that permanently stayed on a chain around their neck. The result of a curse placed, not too long ago, that bound it to their person until death. Just the luck of someone who often plays with magic that they can barely comprehend.

The piece would pass as a decoration to any untrained eye, but to those who delved into the arts of magic, any one of them could tell you what this object was. With the deep and light greens with accents of blue and a cat-eye pupil that was forever staring, there was no mistaking an eye of ender. The object was rich in stored-up mana, but it was no joke. Even with the most skilled of mages, they had to be most cautious and limit their time interacting with the eye. The sooner they distanced themself from it the better as the eye has been heavily rumored to take possession of people who use its magic for too long. Mages long past wrote notes in books, Y/n as read countless times, on how the eye has influenced beings to cause great harm and destruction. Its motives are still unknown. 

With the object on their person 24/7, they take caution every moment in case the eye decides it's time to take control. They hope it isn't any time soon.

Tucking the eye of ender under the latch of the cloak, they peeked outside to be met with chilled air kissing their cheeks. The bitter promise of snow.

More the reason to get their errands done as soon as they could to get back home. As if their life being in danger wasn’t the biggest reason to rush so they could hide again. They carefully pulled on their hood and hid as much of their features as they could within the cloak before stashing a satchel that jingled with coins and setting off through the door.

Being able to leave their distant home was always a treat, but also a constant threat to their life. They were never positive if they would return home after each venture. As a magic user, thoughtfully given the nickname of ‘Witch’ from the townsfolk, they weren’t liked much. They made the mistake of trying to show off their powers once before learning quickly that magic was despised among these people. It was only associated with the rich who treated people lower than them like they were dirt under their shiny boots. Luckily they still had a vendor in the town that sold to them, it was the only thing keeping them going.

After about a hour walk down a few winding forest paths that they carved out by themself after years of taking the same route, the port town was in view. Snow littered the ground to the sides of the dirt roads that they walked along and the small breeze that was present ran cold, the overcast sky promised a harsh amount of snow. That is bound to make next week fun. They sure were lucky to bring extra coins so they can stock up.

Once reaching the main town, they made sure to keep their head down and slip through the hundreds of bodies at the markets. It was all routine now, sadly. They took a turn down an alley that harbored a few stray cats and even a dog that scattered when they pressed on down the alley. Softly, they knocked a code to the shopkeep on the old wooden door.

The door just barely creaked open and an old green eye peered out. Y/n looked down to meet the weary eye peeking out at them and couldn't fight a smile. An old cackle rang out and the door opened up wide to an older woman. She was small and had all gray and white hair that was long and braided over her shoulder, but her eyes were alive and she was brimming with joy.

“Oh my little bird, how are you doing?” She said fondly with a slight German accent and Y/n knelt for the woman when she reached to hold their cheeks and look them over.

“I’m well Oma, thank you. You look as young as ever.” The kind words made the woman laugh and she put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh of contentment.

“So what do you need today? I just got in a big order of sugar if you want some.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful actually. I need flour, milk, and is Opa at his shop today? I need apples and he always has those bottles that I need.”

“Actually, he is home sick today,” She started and she walked into the shop to retrieve what Y/n needed. “He caught a small cold but he’ll be better soon. Wait just a moment and I’ll go grab everything.”

The lady went off on her way and Y/n sat on the doorstep, waiting and watching the people walk past the end of the alley. They cringed to themselves whenever they caught the word witch in some distant conversations, they seemed to be a tall tale at this point. At least they weren’t being actively hunted down anymore.

A few long minutes passed and there was a small thump that caught their attention in the shop, when they looked back there were two large sacks and no sign of the woman. Rest assured, after a few moments, the old lady was just barely managing to carry two more large sacks filled to the brim with the few things they had asked for plus much more as they usually only bring one sack home each trip.

“Oma! Oh no, I don’t have enough for all of this! Besides, I can’t possibly carry this all back home.”

“I know, I know. You’ll need it with the weather we have coming on tonight, as payment you can show me that magic you talked about last time. You know that… carrying magic..” She gestured wildly, trying her hardest to remember the word as Y/n stood back up.

“Oh, my spatial magic? I’m not too good at it, but I am sure I can manage this. Alright, are you ready?” They checked the alley for possible watching eyes before holding their hands out with their palms toward the bags.

The old woman stepped back and watched with excitement, her eyes practically sparkling already. Y/n closed their eyes and sucked in a deep breath, their hand flexing a bit and opening wider. A soft purple light began to emit from their hands and two thin, long arms that seemed to be made from the night sky itself stretched out and each hand touched the sack and engulfed it in darkness before retreating back within Y/n’s hands. They let out their held and concentrated breath with a deep sigh, their muscles and bones feeling heavy as they held some of the weight of the sacks within their being.

“That was amazing! Oh, you are so talented, I am so proud of you.” The woman said happily and walked forward, pulling Y/n down and kissing the head of the young mage she seemed to love. “Please hurry home now, stay safe. Opa and I love you and I hope to see you again soon.” 

She waved them off and Y/n waved back, pulling their hood down more for precaution, and slipped into the crowd toward the road they took back home. They felt rather blessed they were able to make it home without even a scare.

They walked along the road, waiting to see their well-worn path as the heaviness of their body grew with walking uphill. Using magic like this weighed on the body and the soul with however much the individual was carrying. They reached up, pulling down the clasp to their cloak to reveal the eye of ender to the world. As much as they didn't want to rely on its power, it was the only way they would confidently make it home. Grasping the warm object tight, it pulsed with magic beneath their fingers as if it were alive, they sent their mana into the eye to mix and grant them a magic boost. They knew quite well the item was evil and no good to toy with, what else should one do when it's bound to them for life? With a soft purple glow to their eyes now, their body felt lighter and the strain to keep their goodies in a personal pocket in the dimension lifted almost completely. They shook off their bits of anxiety with the gain of power and picked up the pace to get home as small flurries were filling the air around them.

The walk back home was fast and they were beyond relieved upon opening the door and feeling the hug of the warm cottage and a string of excited meows when their familiar raced to greet them.

“Hey Poppy, miss me?” They stroked the cat before kneeling on the ground to perform the same technique of magic for consuming the sacks to spit them back out onto the ground in front of them and hummed a soft tune while they went through the goodies and put them in their respected places around the three stories of the home. Before they noticed it, the world outside had grown dark and they lit the lanterns around the house and peered through a window to see the snow blowing strongly and the wind howling, they hadn’t even gotten a chance to see the sunset. This was turning out to be a real blizzard, they did a silent prayer that it wouldn’t last long.

Just as Y/n was trying to put the last of the sugar away there was a heavy thump on the door followed by a hurried couple of knocks of which were all inconsistent but did the job of grabbing their attention. They fumbled with the sugar but safely put it down before hurrying to the door, their fast movements spooked the cat and caused her to scramble away to go hide.

Once getting the locks undone they opened up the door to see four individuals standing there, waiting. Two of the larger individuals there stood on the sides to frame the group in a way. The one on the left most who had shoulder-length pink hair and noticeable tusks sticking out from his bottom lip and inhuman down pointed ears, was using his large, red cloak to hold a blond boy who was about to his shoulder, against him and shield him from the snow. The two both had on heavy armor, though, the blond’s armor was a bit more leather than metal. On the other end stood a taller man with brown hair who also was in armor and was hunched over to be able to get covered by a large dark grey wing that held him. Said wings belonging to a man who was shorter than the brunette and had on expensive-looking mage robes and messy blond hair. The winged man looked to Y/n in desperation as he began to speak.

“Please let us stay for the night. We will leave as the sun rises, please just-”

“Stop talking- just come in. Hurry! It’s got to be below zero out there.” Y/n hurriedly ushered the bunch inside as they held the door open for them.

The burly pink-haired man was the first to make a move as he pushed the blond boy off of him and through the doorway and was already reaching over to push the brown-haired man next. He made sure the winged individual made his way in before going in. He looked at Y/n who was still holding the door and adjusted his jaw, a nervous habit it seemed, eyes darting around a bit before he returned his eyes to them and gave a nod of appreciation.

Y/n barley was able to get the door closed after him before they turned around and was assaulted with a hug from the winged man, he was incredibly cold. They hugged the man back, rubbing his back a little as he said many soft thank yous to them, though they watched the other three who stood close and looked around at the bottom portion of their home. The blond boy hugged himself close, shivering and the brunette rubbed his back as he looked around.

They hope they wouldn’t regret not thinking it through before letting a bunch of strange people into their home.

“I truly cannot thank you enough for this. We would have died out there.” The man said as he finally let go of Y/n and studied their face for a moment, looking for words it seemed. “We should introduce ourselves. I’m Phil and the big guy back there is Technoblade. The lanky one is Wilbur and the blond one between them is Tommy. They are my sons.”

Y/n watched them as Phil introduced them, each of them giving them some sort of little greeting when they were called. Whether it was a head nod or a little wave or a smile. They seemed nice.

“One hell of a family..” Y/n mumbled which Phil seemed quite funny and even Wilbur chuckled a bit.

“Oh yeah, but they are my boys.” He said while looking at the three with fondness.

The sweet moment was caught a little short when Technoblade crossed his arms, his body language screaming distrust. He looked down at Y/n and sized them up as he grumbled out a question that sounded more like a command. “What is your name. Who are you.”

“Techno- for god’s sake be a little nicer could ya? Bloody hell, they just saved us.” Wilbur retorted and Technoblade huffed a little growl and looked away. Wilbur gave a short and annoyed sigh, looking back at Y/n as he pulled his hand away from Tommy and instead rested a hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. It wasn’t meant to be seen as a threat, but the gesture did make Y/n a bit uneasy as they shuffled back a tad. Instead, he just spoke kindly with an inviting hand gesture.

“What is your name?” He stated and he and Phil looked at them expectantly.

They hesitated for a moment with the eyes on them and cleared their throat, standing taller. “My name is Y/n... it’s nice to meet all of you.” They thought for a moment about what they should say to these people who stood awkwardly, warming up from the cold. “How about I uh… go get some blankets for you all. Blankets and I’ll set up my two spare rooms.” They added as more of a side note to themselves than the group and hurried up the stairs to get things together. 

This was going to be a long night. They can only hope the snow stops soon.

[Chapter Two]

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

Hi!! Spooks here. Like the first chapter? Want to make sure you know when i post the next chapter and any after that?

Click here and interact with this post! I'll add you to my tag list!!

And thank you so much for reading!!

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Grunge-Metal Geralt 2

holy fucking shit yall really loved the first one so I wrote some more

this is totally self indulgent tho. like yall have no idea. if i could live in any AU it would be this one. i have so many feels.

Warnings: drinking mention, nothing over the top, unwanted pics taken but like they’re celebrities? i guess, we get a bit emotional about past relationships/crushes but nothing too heavy

__________________________

Jaskier had no idea how he got there, but he was knocking on a green room door with a temporary label reading ‘The Witchers’ before the stadium had completely emptied. 

Lambert yanked the door open, Aiden clinging to his back like a monkey, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head before a huge grin spread over his face, “Hey there, Jaskier!”

Eskel grumbled, “Haha, Bert. No need to fuck with Geralt.” 

Jaskier shoved his hands in his corduroys and rocked up onto his toes, “He’s not fucking with anyone,” he laughed, desperately trying to keep the nerves out of his voice as he peeked around the door jam. 

Geralt was curled up in the corner of a couch, now wearing a massive grey-blue hoodie and gold wire-rimmed glasses, scribbling in a composition notebook propped up on his knees. His hair was pulled back in a disaster of a bun with pieces falling in his face but Jaskier absolutely loved it. It suited him. He hesitated a moment before scrawling one last line in his notebook, brow furrowed as he chewed on his bottom lip.

When he looked up he snapped his notebook shut, “Holy fuck,” he breathed, “Hi!”

His eyes were actually gold. Jaskier had just thought that was some thirst driven exaggeration. He expected light brown, but no. He was staring directly at eyes that practically sparkled.

Lambert waved Jaskier in and he hesitantly stepped through the door, “Hi! I uh, dig your boots.” 

“Th- Thank you,” Geralt bit back a grin, blushing bright pink as he stood up, “I didn’t think you’d see my message. Or respond.” 

“After that performance?” Jaskier, normally bard-worthy with his quick tongue and easy conversation, was feeling his own cheeks heat up as he scrambled for something to say, “I’m honestly not sure if I even locked my car when I came back in.” 

Eskel snickered from behind Jaskier, stretching and putting his feet up on a coffee table, “Told ya.”

Aiden sighed and rested his chin on top of Lambert’s head, “This is so cute.”

Jaskier laughed, not entirely uncomfortably but definitely awkward, and ran a hand through his hair, turning back to Geralt. 

Geralt pushed his glasses farther up his nose and snatched his wallet from the coffee table, “I offered drinks. You wanna…” Geralt trailed off and made an exasperated, and maybe a little annoyed face at the guys behind him but when Jaskier turned around they were pretending to mind their own business, “How does Pensive sound?” 

Jaskier shot him a grin, “Sounds perfect.”

Geralt snagged his keys from a bag and held the door open for Jaskier, “After you.” 

-

“Okay so,” Jaskier took a sip of his drink and set it in line with their two empty glasses and a napkin holder, “Aiden and Lambert fuck?” he asked, pushing an empty glass and the napkin holder together. Geralt snorted and nodded so he went on, “And Eskel and Lambert are brothers?” Another nod as he tapped the two empty glasses, “And you and Eskel were college roommates?” he asked, gesturing to his half-empty glass. 

Geralt grinned, “You know, you’re keeping up pretty well for a self-proclaimed lightweight.” 

Jaskier giggled, “I’m trying really fucking hard.” 

Geralt leaned his head back and laughed and Jaskier was absolutely done for. He rested his elbow on the table and his head in his hand as he stared dreamily at this adorable man. He was carefree and soft around the edges, nothing like Jaskier had expected from the lyrics he’d listened to all night. And either he was a good listener or Jaskier had had one too many vodka-crans. 

When Geralt finally got himself under control he took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes before placing them back on his nose with a grimace, “I shouldn’t have taken my contacts out.” 

“Old prescription?” 

Geralt blushed, “Don’t usually wear them in public,” He admitted, pushing the frames higher.

Jaskier must have had too much to drink because he reached out and tucked a curly strand of white hair behind Geralt’s ear, “I think they’re cute on you.” 

Geralt’s breath caught in his throat as he stared at Jaskier, jaw hanging down just a bit, his pupils blown wide. Jaskier bit his lip and smiled as he pulled his hand away and rested it on the table between them, hoping Geralt would get the hint. Gods he just wanted to hold his hand and giggle until the sun came up. 

“Thank you,” Geralt muttered, blinking a couple times and laying one of his hands over Jaskier’s. 

“Can I ask you something?”

Geralt licked his lips and nodded, shaking the hair loose that Jaskier had just tucked away. 

“Why that song?” Jaskier stared at their hands, not having the courage to look at Geralt in case the answer wasn’t what he wanted it to be. 

“Hmm…” he didn’t sound upset, but he was certainly choosing his words carefully, “I’ve done the whole.. How do I put it?” Jaskier looked up at him only to see him staring at their hands too, “...‘I could be enough for you if you’d let me’ dance more times than I can count… and knowing it would never happen but yearning anyway…” he chuckled and glanced up at Jaskier, a sad look of acceptance in his eyes, “And I love your voice.”

Of course, he’d heard those words before, it was his job to have a good voice, but fuck, they hit different coming from Geralt. He was so earnest and disarmingly handsome that Jaskier felt anything he said would make him giddy. His chest felt warm and it took a moment for his brain to catch up. He had planned on showering Geralt with praise and adoration, not the other way around. 

Jaskier squeezed his hand, “I love yours too,” he whispered.

There was that gorgeous blush again, making Jaskier’s heart skip a beat. 

“I can’t imagine anyone thinking you’re not magnificent,” Jaskier mumbled, watching Geralt blush even deeper and dip his head so the loose hairs covered his face a bit. Jaskier may have been a flirty drunk, but he was one hundred percent sure he’d be just as forward with Geralt sober. He wasn’t leaving the bar without making damn sure Geralt knew he was gorgeous and talented and everything Jaskier could imagine wanting in life. 

“Careful. You can’t just say things like that,” Geralt warned, flicking the hair out of his eyes with a guarded but amused smile. 

“And why not?”

Geralt squinted at him for a moment, “I might believe you.” 

“Geralt, darling,” Jaskier started, sitting up and turning to square his hips toward him, holding his large hand in both of his, “I don’t mince words. I mean everything I say. And tweet. I really do think you’re wonderful. And I really do want you to sing me to sleep. Sometime. Anytime. I’m not picky.”

Geralt raised his eyebrows and took a breath in to say something but was interrupted by a camera flash in the low light of the bar and someone swearing.

“Oi!” Jaskier turned toward the light, and the idiot fumbling with their phone. 

Geralt squeezed his hand before he could say anything more, “It’s alright. The hair kinda glows in the dark, I’m used to it. I was thinking we could get out of here?”

Jaskier did his best not to let the sly smile take over his face and give him away, “Would you like to come to my place?”

Geralt grinned, “Absolutely. Mine is a shit show right now.”

“Is it really that bad?” Jaskier joked as they stood.

“Eskel is a slob,” Geralt laughed.

“Mine it is!” Jaskier declared, slapping enough cash to cover their drinks and an exorbitant tip on the table.

They walked out of the bar with Geralt’s arm around Jaskier’s shoulders, both with giddy smiles and a little extra pep in their step. 

[glitterge1pen]

What? Lol? Omg? You’re at my doorstep? And you’re drunk? What? Lol? Thats crazy?

tw; drunk Keigo, he's just kinda clumsy :p

Keigo Takami x reader, sfw, fluff, word count 1,450 (reader has a quirk this time around) 

You had never seen Keigo drunk. When the knock came to your front door you were already in bed asleep. Groggy and disoriented you stumbled back when Keigo piled onto you. The alcohol seeping from his pores, his usual odor replaced entirely. Slumped over your shoulder, his head in the crook of your neck, you push him off.  Keeping your palms on his shoulder to keep him propped up.

“Look at this!”

He said excitedly, pointing to a bleeding gash along his forearm. Shoving his arm in your face.

“Keigo?”

You ask still a bit confused.

“Yes? Did you see? Look!”

He showed you the wound again. Unable to form coherent words you wiped at your eyes trying to wake yourself up.

“Keigo, are you okay?”

Is what you settle on asking next as he falls into your doorframe. Hands crossed as he tried to keep himself up. You loop your arm through his, his weight instantly leaning into you. His blonde hair in disarray brushing your face as you did your best to balance him. You lead him over to the living room couch. He hit the pillows with a thud. You turned to grab him some water when his hand latched onto your wrist, pulling you back to him. Looking over the couch down at Keigo, you could see his pupils widen so clearly from the position above him.

“I’ll be right back, you need water”

In the kitchen you wet a paper towel. You hold the glass to his lips and he drinks. You wipe the semi dried blood from his arm, the cut not too deep. It looked more like a scrape, he must have knocked into something while flying. And his jacket. Where was his jacket?

“Do the thing”

“What?”

“Do it”

Keigo motions at your hand.

“Drink the rest of the water first”

In a clumsy stupor Keigo struggled to keep the glass steady but gulped down the remaining water in one flourish, slamming the cup back on the low coffee table. You turn, laying on the floor beneath the couch. Head next to Keigos he now looks down at you flopped over on his side. When you reached your hand above you though Keigo was quick to flip onto his back.

Waving your hand in a simple motion, particles of gold parted ways in the air. A soft warm glow emitting from your hand. The specks of gold started to change color, like petals of glass falling and reflecting the colors. Keigo actually gasped when the picture fully formed itself.

A woman laying, or drowning, in a pile of blue rabbits. Dark space and dots of stars behind her. The strokes and colors moving along their lines and place in the painting. A mesmerizing display. A name came to your mouth, perfectly known to you.

"Lee Seog-gu"

Keigo reaches out to try to grab the image. His hand jaunts through the particles. Unable to grasp the painting. Still he stares. He hasn't requested you to do this before. He tended to wait for you to show him yourself. You were prone to using your quirk whenever bored or trying to calm yourself down, more of a party trick than anything else. You didn't think this was something he enjoyed this much. Keigo rolls his head to look at you. You wave your hand again.

The next image was also of a woman. Bright bold colors with soft texture. Though she just pigment, she stared back at you and Keigo with an unnerving gaze. Her hair in buns, jellyfish around the mounds of hair.

"Hakobore"

You say. Keigo nods like it helps him understand the image. You two do this several more times, your hands moving through dozens of sketchbook pages, recognizable drawings of famous people, paintings, charcoles, grocery lists, blue prints, sticky notes, homework answer sheets, and crayon doodles. Anything people could write or draw was at your disposal.

”Salman Toor,”

You say as your hand stops at a vibrant green painting of a group of people lounging in an apartment. Two of them huddled together on the couch with wine, while the other two danced. A lovely painting, you take your hand to the swarm of particles again ready to shift the image when Keigo asks you to halt.

“Let's do that,”

He says with a sudden burst of energy.

“What? Sit on the couch together?”

“No dance”

You’re taken aback at the request. Never having seen Keigo dance, the closest you think is when he hums and nods his head a bit when eating food he really likes.

“Can you even stand up without throwing up?”

Keigo answered you by standing up, swaying as he did so. You rushed to your feet to try to steady him. He took this as a yes to the dancing, putting one hand on your waist and the other on your shoulder. Only the light above the kitchen stove was on, and in the dim light of the room you found it hard to look at Keigo directly.

“I should come over more”

Unsure of how to respond to him you simply nod. You did an awkward shuffle with him. Stepping forward and back, trapped with the coffee table so close. Right as you thought perhaps you should step away from the small space Keigo tripped over nothing, you were unable to grasp any of his limbs in time he went straight into the table.

“Keigo!”

He groans, hand on his head, the drunk haze fading off him bit by bit as his mind and body narrowed in on the pain. You help him get back on the couch. You head to the kitchen again, reaching in one of the cabinets for some ibuprofen to give Keigo. The bottle made no rattle, it was empty. You sighed, tossing it in the trash. When you turned around, you gasped as Keigo was right at your nose. You hadn't heard him come into the kitchen.

“I’m really sorry for coming here and doing all this, I haven't been drunk in, in so long,”

He said dragging out the ‘so’, his breath hot on your face. You put your hands on his arms again trying to put some distance between you, something you noted as he was usually great about giving you space.

“I’m going to have to go to the store down the street, I’ll be right back”

You’re already at the door with your keys. Keigo on your heels.

“I can't let you go alone”

“You can barely walk”

“Thats what youre for”

Keigo said, wrapping his arm through yours. On the sidewalk the night felt cool on your skin, you hadn't realized how worked up you had gotten taking care of Keigo. You yawned. Keigo yawned. You eye him, his usual demeanor less chiper, less touchy, more mouthy and less sincere. He catches your gaze, leaning further into you again like he’s inspecting the look you're giving him.

“What are you looking at”

“You”

You say as indifferently as possible. Not wanting him to see how his unexpected visit was making your mind race. The corner store comes into view. The harsh white light a beacon in the night. The doors slide open, Keigo slipping on the carpet a bit, pushing into you as the electronic ding signaled your arrival.

You tried heading straight for the aisle with the medicine but Keigo pulled you towards the candy. Grabbing several bags of candy, each one you put back, expect the one that was actually your favorite. He attempts to put headbands on you as you pass through the hair aisle. His fingers skimming your hair, you try focusing on the soft sounds of the radio floating through the store instead of Keigo's voice or the pounding of your heart in your ears. At the checkout with candy, ibuerpon, and a bottled water, Keigo apologized again.

“Sorry that I’m having you do this”

“I mean you’re my friend, this is just something friends do sometimes”

“Friends?”

Keigo asked tentatively. You two head for the doors again, Keigo still attached to you.

“Yes, friends”

Keigo hummed, discontent. You walk back in silence. Keigo still disgruntled, you try to cheer him up again by showing him some more paintings. While he does talk to you about each image you're able to summon you can tell his mind isn't in it.

“Like only friends though?”

He asks while you were struggling to open the front door with him holding onto your arm. Keigo suddenly attentive again. You smile a bit but try to keep it to yourself.

“Keigo, take the ibuprofen, go to bed, I’ll see you in the morning”

༓･*˚⁺‧͙·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

A/N: Ah, Ive been writing a lot but for my personal projects. Fanfic as usual is a great way for me to take a break from my more serious stuff and just write whatever. Also :) No :) Did not edit this :) 

[little-diable]

Potter - Draco Malfoy (angst/smut)

Request by anon: Hello. I love your imagines! Can I request a Draco smut? The reader and him are in a secret romance due to her being Harry's sister. She is Harry's stolen object in the second task, but she doesn't know how to swim. Draco saves her and has soft smut in the Prefect bathroom with multiple "I love you"s.

Hope this is what you had in mind. Enjoy my loves. xxx

“Sh, don’t want anybody to hear us, do we?” His lips nibbled on her neck, hands massaging her skin, leaving a few hidden marks, something he’ll be able to admire later on. His scent filled her nostrils, the faint green apple aroma made a homey feeling overcome her, trying to pull her love even closer. 

“My gorgeous love,“ Draco breathed out, smiling at her, those bright eyes twinkling in the darkness of the storage room, he loved to feel her close, pressed against his chest, shuttered breaths leaving her swollen lips, begging for more. 

“We need to leave,“ (y/n) mumbled, she couldn’t miss her brothers first task, still shaken up from the way he had whispered “dragons” just last night. Her first instinct had been to tell him to quit, she couldn’t endure watching him struggle against something that deadly, but soon enough the (y/h/c) haired Potter girl realized, she couldn’t do anything, besides cheering for her brother, supporting him no matter what. 

“Fucking Potter,“ Draco muttered under his breath, groaning as his girlfriend slapped her hand against his abdomen.

„Don‘t Draco, he’s my bother,“ (y/n) reminded him once again, as if he wasn’t struggling with the sober truth every single day.

Draco and (y/n) had crossed paths years ago, eyes gazing at each other as the hat sorted them into their houses. A Malfoy would naturally be placed into Slytherin, just like (y/n) followed her brother into Gryffindor. Draco could still feel the uneasy feeling rising in his stomach as the hat called “Gryffindor”, he had deeply wished for her to follow him into Slytherin. 

It had taken (y/n) and Draco a few years to finally find each other, coming clean with their emotions, hiding their relationship from curious eyes, especially the ones of Dracos so called enemy, Harry Potter, (y/n)s brother. 

“He’ll be fine, don’t worry.“Draco kissed her forehead, running a hand through his bright blonde hair, trying to lace his voice with any sympathy, struggling to do so. “I’ll find you later on,“ and off he went, blending in with the rest of the students, cheering for anybody who didn’t carry the name Potter. 

His bright eyes would unintentionally find her (y/e/c) ones from time to time, checking to see, if she was alright, his heart was clenching at the sight, she was trembling, hands interlaced with Hermoines. Draco wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around her, his mind was coming up with all the supportive things he’d whisper into her ear. 

He caught himself admiring her features more than once, proud that he was the one, that got to call her his girlfriend, he’d do anything to show her off to all those students, if his bloodline and her brother wouldn’t stand in their way. 

Even Draco felt scared, just for a second though, but his emotions were pure, watching Harry disappear, chased by the dragon, praying that he’d make it. Harry couldn’t leave (y/n) behind, he was the only true family member she had left, not as if she’d ever call her uncle and her aunt her family. 

“God, Harry,“ she fell into her brothers arms, a relieved sob left her lips, (y/n) inhaled his scent, the all too familiar calming sensation overcame her, made her sink into her brothers embrace even further. “I’m alright, don’t worry,“ he kissed her hairline, hands tightly squeezing her before he let go of her, ready to celebrate his victory. 

Harry and Draco would cross paths once that evening, Harrys eyebrows would furrow together as he caught the blonde Slytherin staring at his sister, the almost lovingly seeming smile he shot her made Harry frown. 

“(Y/n), love, look at me,“ Draco had her pressed against the cold wall, hands wrapped around her trembling frame. „He won’t leave you, Harry will survive this tournament.“

An exhausted expression grazed Dracos features, both, (y/n) and Draco hadn’t caught much sleep these past few days, she’d seek him out whenever another nightmare would haunt her, not able to keep on sleeping without him near. 

“Sorry,“ (y/n) hiccuped, fingers grasping the fabric of his sweater, too scared to let go of him. She admired him, truly did, thankful for muttering those sweet words to her, obviously trying to swallow down his hatred for her brother. “Don’t be,“ he kissed her forehead, dipping his head down to pull her into him. 

“I love you,“ she mumbled against his lips, kissing him one last time before she disappeared into the darkness, creeping down the hallways, finding her way back to her dorm, praying for at least a few hours of sleep. 

But as (y/n) had been woken up from her sleep early in the morning, she cursed herself for ever leaving the comfortableness of her bed, desperate to find her love, not able to calm the raging storm inside her mind herself. Hermoine and Ron had dragged her to where they’d meet with Dumbledore, getting initiated into the next task. 

An uneasy feeling settled inside her bones, (y/n) had never liked the water, never felt calm in the crashing waves of the ocean, so she refused to learn how to swim, she wouldn’t need to swim anyways, well, how wrong she had been. 

Neither the teachers nor Ron and Hermoine spared her protests any mind, trying to bribe her into it, telling her how much she’d help her brother with it, since everybody knew, that (y/n) would give her all for Harry, even her last breath. 

“No, absolutely not,“Draco muttered, arms crossed in front of his chest, staring down on his girlfriend. „I don’t have any other choice,“ she sounded just as unconvinced, her mind was racing, anxiety nestled in her, god, she prayed that Harry would be able to rescue her. 

“I’ll only give him a few minutes, otherwise I’ll step in,“ Draco left without kissing her goodbye, too enraged to even think straight, not noticing her sad eyes on him, aching for his touch. “I love you,“ she whispered into the hallway, eyes set on the spot where Draco had just been standing on a few moments ago. 

With trembling legs she stood in front of the old wizard, hopeful eyes were gazing at her. “It will be alright Miss Potter, don’t worry,“ he winked at her. She shot her friends one last glance before she got put into her trance, disappearing down the lake, darkness engulfed her, lulled her in. 

Dracos hard eyes were focused on the lake, he kept on tapping his foot, counting the minutes, cold sweat was breaking out on his back, he felt scared, truly scared, for the first time in his life. “What’s going on with you Malfoy?” Goyle chuckled, teasing his distressed friend. 

The prince of Slytherin pushed him out of the way as Harry broke through the lakes surface, (y/n) nowhere to be seen. “Where is she?” Draco spat, eyes finding Harrys shivering frame. „I don’t know,“ Harry stuttered, he hadn’t noticed the way she had struggled underwater, hadn’t noticed her letting go of his hand. Only now he seemed to realize, that his sister was actually not by his side. 

Blood was rushing in Dracos ears, too many thoughts and emotions crashed upon him, his limbs began to tremble, scared of losing his one true love. Curious eyes watched him pull off his coat and shoes, drowning out the cheering for the other contestants.

“Fucking Potter,“ Draco spat, diving headfirst into the black waters, he’d rescue her, no matter what. His heart was pounding against his ribcage, Draco tried to calm himself down, knowing that it would take him a while to find his girlfriend. Glad for all those hours his parents made him take swimming lessons, diving for hours on end, looking for random objects underwater. 

His bright eyes found her unresponsive figure on the lakes ground, tears were welling up in his eyes, blurring his already limited vision. Draco wrapped his arms around her frame, with his last breath he pulled themselves up the water, gasping as he broke through the lakes surface. “Don’t touch her,“ he growled at Harry, placing (y/n) down on the wooden stand, desperately trying catch her (y/e/c) eyes staring at him. 

Draco shook her a few times, cradling her cold frame in his arms, a relived sigh made it past his lips as she began to cough up the water in her lungs. “Finally,” he breathed into her ear, wrapping his coat around her shivering limbs. He didn’t let Harry near him, silencing him with a simple “not now Potter” every time he tried to apologize to his sister. 

“Come on, let’s take a bath my love,“ Draco was still carrying her, glad to finally be back at the castle, walking up to the perfect’s bathroom, knowing that they’d find some peace up there. “Let me help you,“ he slowly unbuttoned her blouse, eyes focused on hers, drops of water were dripping down from her tips, her lips were slightly blue, (y/n) wouldn’t let go of his hands. 

Draco had to bite down the “I told you so”, that was about to spill from his lips, but her dilated pupils were enough to shut him up, enough to pull her against his chest, kissing her forehead over and over again. 

She was placed on his lap, front pushed against his, hands tangled in his hair, the warm water engulfed them, calmed their shivering limbs. “I’m sorry for scaring you like that,“ (y/m) mumbled against his neck, her heart felt heavy, she didn’t care about almost drowning, didn’t care that Harry forgot about her, only cared about the way Draco felt, the anxious feelings, that ran through his veins. 

“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault my love,“ Draco grasped her neck, pulled her in for a kiss. „I’ve never been that scared. It made me realize, that I can’t be myself without you by my side, you’re my everything and I truly love you.” Draco confessed, chuckling at the smile, that tugged on her lips. 

“I love you too,“ she whispered, pushing her lips against his, dipping her tongue into his mouth, deepening the sensual gesture. Both were in their own little bubble of calmness, relishing in being that close to one another, set on making them feel as loved and appreciated as possible. 

Dracos hands found her wetness, he growled into her mouth, fingers dipping into her heat, spreading her open. “So pretty,“ (y/n) gasped at his praising, nails clawing into his shoulders. „Make love to me Draco,“ she moaned, desperate to wrap her walls around him. 

She sunk down on his hard length, he filled her in every right way, deliciously stretching her. “Draco,“ (y/n) cried out his name, his hands placed on her behind, stabilizing her movement. (Y/n) kept on gridding her core against his length, slowly bouncing on his member, engulfed by the hot water. 

Their pent up anxiety, frustration and love began to spill out of them, pushing them closer to the edge faster than ever. “I love you,“ both moaned at the same time, chuckling as their lips found one another. 

Draco thrusted his hips upwards, meeting her wetness, burying himself even deeper, stretching her even further, making her fall right into the crashing wave of her orgasm. “Fuck so good,“ Draco moaned, releasing himself into her heat, forehead pressed against hers, hands not letting go of her skin.

“I love you,“ Draco repeated, (y/n) ran her hands through his hair. „I love you too Draco Malfoy.“

[rararazaquato]

monkey headcanon doc

be warned: VERY LONG POST, will be putting it under a cut.

The white spots on the chest and their muzzles are the only parts of the actual monkey that show through the cybernetics, with the exception of helmet removal for brain inspection and repair.

Too long without the helmet will kill the monkey. Probably a 10-minute timer a la that one half-finished Invader Zim episode. The one where Zim loses his PAK and he only has ten minutes to live. That one.

The rest of the monkey is in there still, but removing the cybernetic armor would certainly be painful. Plus, again, 10 minute timer.

“so how is Mandarin surviving without his helmet” well on the HOOP the prison staff were basically just force feeding him fluids or whatever, so he had a little more than half an hour left in him by the time he tried taking over Shuggazoom in Sixth Monkey. However, he was nearly a corpse by the end of the whole ordeal. Muscle Bod Mandarin was crafted to have extended “battery life” by Skeleton King, and Skelemandarin has no more need for being on what is effectively Villainous Life Support. Then again, he’s basically a corpse barely clinging to life at this point. His face post-s2, with one blind eye? That’s not scar tissue around it. That’s rot. He’s a rotting corpse. Peace and love ❤️

Sparx, Gibson, and Otto’s lenses aren’t actually black. They’re tinted red, blue, and green respectively.

Similarly, Antauri’s fur in his original form isn’t exactly black. It’s a very dark and desaturated purple, but it’s still definitely purple. Think Shiny Gengar.

Speaking of Antauri, remember how I said the snout sticks out of the cybernetic parts? When Antauri gets his fully mechanical body, there’s obviously no more snout. The body was never meant to house an actual monkey, so there’s no snout built in. Antauri’s head is basically an orb.

Still, Antauri’s head is evenly divided between the actual silver on the top half (which also has a slight purpley hue) and the white of his original muzzle on the bottom half. Poké Ball lookin’ man.

Antauri can still “eat”, in a sense. He has taste receptors in his mouth, but any food he swallows is all converted to energy and stored in a spare battery pack. To make sure he has enough energy for his physical form to keep going, he usually does the robo-equivalent of carbo-loading before intense missions.

Each monkey has a physical feature that sets them apart from each other.

Antauri has sharp claws even when not using his weapons. When he gets his new bod, his hands are normal, but as previously mentioned, no muzzle.

Sparx wears those stupid Dirk Strider glasses. However, those conceal his actual differing features - his pupils are triangular instead of circular like the other monkeys. This is how we get a similar visual effect to his eyes going all “sharp” when he goes Fire of Hate mode - he takes off his glasses when hanging out with Valeena and Mandarin.

Gibson’s tail ends in a sharp point that’s the same blue as the rest of his body. This point also glows when he’s experiencing heightened emotions or is using his drill attacks.

Nova has extra face fluff. Basically, she looks like Tails from Sonic. I think it’s cute.

Otto’s weird little head fin thing has two sections instead of one. This is to make it resemble a ponytail, and a mechanic would need to keep his hair out of his face!

Mandarin is the closest to canon, because he has no distinguishing features (since he was the first monkey given a cybernetic body).

The monkey snouts have a little nose now! Reason: it is cute

I think the two pieces above really show off the way my headcanons for the monkey’s appearances work. One is the dialogueless version of a comic I did where Mandarin gets kicked off the team for getting into NFTs, and the other is a collection of Gibson being gay as hell (the Otto design used in the second piece is my current one, the Mandarin comic one has a different fin style).

The monkeys are about 3 feet tall, maybe a little less. They’re all about the same height, too, although Mandarin always seemed like the shortest due to his tendency to slouch. Antauri’s silver body is also a little smaller, so he ends up being “the short one”.

They can regulate their outside body temperature. Are you too hot? Gibson’s an ice pack now. Too cold? Otto is a hot water bottle. This is kinda canon with Snowbound, but I like to think they have a lot of control over their temperature. Unfortunately, Nova’s thermal regulators were busted when she had that confrontation with Mandarin in the training room, so she can lose control of how warm she gets pretty easily. The same probably applies to her cooling abilities, i.e. she can basically turn anyone that touches her into a popsicle, but she hates even her outside body temperature being cold that much that she hasn’t bothered to try.

However, the exposed parts of the monkey maintain regular… monkey… temperature? What is the regular monkey temperature? idk lol

Each team member takes care of their chest fur differently.

Antauri combs his fur exactly 99 times in the morning and exactly once before bed. He also washes it every other day with shampoo and conditioner, as is recommended for many humans. He doesn’t have any in his robot form, though. Bald.

Sparx puts hair gel in his fur and slicks it into a stupid little spiral shape. Washes it every other day.

Gibson is actually the least careful with his fur. He’ll quickly comb it out if you bring it up, but it usually goes unbrushed. Do not ask him when he last washed his fur. He’s too busy doing science and research and being tormented by Sparx! The man loves dry shampoo.

Nova brushes her fur every day and washes it every day as well. She also pays special attention to the fur around her muzzle, as it gets tangled and matted easily.

Otto isn’t anywhere near as bad as Gibson, but he’s not exactly the most bothered about his appearance. He washes and brushes his fur when it gets something like oil stuck in it, which is actually pretty often, but he isn’t doing it for appearances. He’s doing it because it feels weird to have goop in your fur!

If you so much as tap Mandarin’s fur with a comb it will all fall out.

Also, music tastes!

Antauri doesn’t listen to music? If he isn’t on high alert with the team, he’s either sleeping or meditating, and he doesn’t like music when he meditates. Sometimes he’ll put on rain sounds or, like, whale songs or something while sleeping.

Sparx has a whole music career! Unfortunately, his album has become a laughingstock among bald music critics. Meta jokes aside, he likes most subgenres of rock and the occasional hip hop song.

Gibson mostly listens to classical music, although he is also known to partake in Lo-Fi Hip Hop Beats to Relax/Study To. Also, because this show was made in 2004, he has an “embarrassing” interest in Britney Spears’ music. No one else on the team finds it embarrassing. Except Sparx. But, as mentioned above, his own music career was a flop, so he can’t exactly judge, now can he?

Put on any gym playlist. That’s Nova’s music taste. Bonus points if it includes Eye of the Tiger.

Otto listens to the most obnoxious hyperpop you could imagine. Somehow, he has the best music taste of the group. He and Sparx composed the team’s theme song in-universe.

Mandarin, like Antauri, also doesn’t listen to music. Unlike Antauri, where he just doesn’t have time, Mandarin doesn’t listen to music because allegedly that’s one of the telltale signs of a future serial killer.

Not a monkey, but Chiro likes to roll down the windows of his little car thing and blast My Chemical Romance and other emo people music. That’s what he was doing at the beginning of Girl Trouble. He also likes generic guitar solo music as evidenced by the same episode.

Obviously, the monkeys don’t like bananas, but they have their favorite foods.

Antauri actually enjoys those healthy smoothies from Wonder Fun Meat World. Chiro will pretend to do shots of them, much to Antauri’s chagrin (and Sparx’s amusement. “Hey, Antauri, after we save the universe, we should send Chiro to university. I think he’d have a great time!”)

Sparx is convinced that carrots actually do help with eyesight, so he does his best to eat as many as he can. He also has a sweet tooth, so his absolute favorite food is carrot cake.

Gibson drinks black coffee, like some kind of freak.

Nova loves Otto’s cooking, whatever he makes. The clam chowder from Night of Fear? Chef’s kiss (she said this and Otto responded with “huh? chefs kiss? do they really?”)

Otto, on the other hand, loves fast food hamburgers. He found out about the Gakburger “secret ingredient” and kept eating it. When he retires from saving the universe, he plans on starting an ethical Thingy-fur farm to make sure Mr. Gakslapper doesn’t have to shadily shave the Thingies behind the counter. He is also the only monkey who doesn’t dislike bananas. He doesn’t love them, but if given the choice between a banana and one of Antauri’s smoothies, he’d much rather take the banana.

Mandarin has been living off of nothing but fluids for the past god knows how many years.

Antauri’s “sensing” powers actually detect signature electromagnetic waves. Like a shark.

Antauri and Gibson are Chiro’s legal guardians. Chiro’s full legal name is Chiro Niyelli Gibson (“Niyelli” being a corruption of “Nieli” in the same way “Chiro” is a corruption of “Ciro”).

Again, not monkey, but Chiro’s birth parents were actually the Sheenkos, and Valeena was his older sister. They went all freaky Skeleton King mode and turned Valeena into a perfect cult sacrifice/put Chiro in the orphanage when he was a baby. yeah i know this probably has a lot of timeline loopholes and is probably not anywhere near canon but shhh

And Clayton Claymore is his great uncle, making the Alchemist his great uncle through, well they never got married but he and Cpt. Shuggazoom were effectively married so Skeleton King is Chiro’s great uncle, basically. And Valeena’s. No one involved has any idea. again don’t talk about the timeline here

All of the frogs from Brothers in Arms are evolutionarily related to poison dart frogs. They probably aren’t poisonous, though, since the diet needed to create poison in frogs is very specific and you probably can’t be too picky in space. Although, I do like to think Otto’s frog counterpart is still poisonous, both as a parallel to Otto’s ability to fix/”heal” the Super Robot (although that frog is also shown to be a mechanic by the end of BiA) and as a callback to the original pitch bible for SRMTHFG, where Otto was learning how to control his mean streak (almost like it was his toxic side).

Mr. Cheepers is fully sapient. (also, fun fact, in the Japanese dub, his name is Pi-chan) (another fun fact: Mr. Cheepers was actually one of the few things I remembered from the show as a child before rewatching it. Did not remember any of the monkey’s names, but by God did I remember Mr. Cheepers).

Well, that’s it for now! Please DM me for more headcanons I have so many thoughts.

[babybluebex]

can I please request a sebastian stan imagine where sebastian and the reader are both dating other people but they end up liking each other after filming something together, and the rest is up to you? xx

distance [sebastian stan x reader]

➽ pairing: sebastian stan x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 1.9k ➽ summary: see above!  ➽ warnings: explicit language, mentions of tom hiddleston x reader, angst, pining ➽ a/n: enjoy!

Jealousy was new to you. Sure, you turned green every so often, but it wasn’t a usual occurrence. It happened infrequently enough that you forgot the way it felt every time it bubbled up again. Recently, though, you were familiar with jealousy. 

You weren’t quite sure when it started. Maybe when you first met Sebastian. It was at the premiere for Avengers. You had been in it, playing Tony Stark’s daughter Lucy, who was kidnapped by the crazed Loki. In filming your scenes with Tom Hiddleston, you had grown to appreciate him, and the premiere was a sort-of announcement that you were dating. By that point, you already knew that you would be in the next Captain America movie, and you were thrilled to work with Chris and Scarlet again. On top of that, you were excited to meet Anthony Mackie. 

You didn’t know that Sebastian would be in Winter Soldier until he approached you at the premiere. He looked handsome, suit and rings and slicked hair, and he congratulated you on an amazing performance. “Oh, I loved you in First Avenger,” you told him with a smile. “Bucky was my favorite by far. I cried when he died.” 

Tom wrapped his arm around your waist and nodded in agreement. “She was truly a mess,” he said. “We had to pause the movie.” He shook Sebastian’s hand, and the force of it wasn’t lost on you. 

“I got emotional during your scene together in the Tower,” Sebastian said. “Lucy begging for her dad, and Loki’s unrelenting cruelty. I just… Wow. It blew me away!” 

“Thanks,” you said. “Are you gonna visit the Winter Soldier set?”

Sebastian laughed and bit his bottom lip. Full and pink. He was so totally handsome, and you felt lightheaded even being in his presence. “Well,” he started. “I’m actually in it.” 

You gasped. “What? How? Bucky died!” 

“He was rescued,” Sebastian said slowly. “By HYDRA. And he comes back.”

“Oh, my God,” you laughed. “Oh, you just made my entire night. Wow! I-I can’t wait!” 

Sebastian nodded, and he looked to his side. A few meters away, a woman was talking to the press, and she quickly came and kissed Sebastian on the cheek. You recognized her as one of his co-stars from Once Upon A Time, and you felt that unfamiliar jealousy bubble in your stomach. Why were you jealous? You were on the arm of one of the most talented and successful actors, and, besides that, you loved your boyfriend. 

So why did you want more? 

Filming for Winter Soldier started, and you quickly found out your character’s storyline. She was working with Steve and Fury to help in reparations of the New York fiasco from Avengers, and she was the first one to encounter the Winter Soldier. She wouldn’t recognize him and would tell Steve about her encounter with a super-soldier, and Natasha would tell the story of the Winter Soldier, how he was a myth and a ghost. The directors, the talented Russo brothers, had told you that an arc would extend past the movie and into the sequels where Lucy helps break Bucky Barnes from his brainwashing and they would eventually fall in love. But, they assured you, that was several films off. They didn’t even plan for Lucy and Bucky to kiss until the next Captain America movie. 

You and Sebastian became quick friends. Despite the metal-like prosthetic and long hair and heavy makeup that he wore on set, you found comfort in him. You couldn’t explain it, but you felt at ease with him. Between takes, you could be found laughing and jokingly sparing with him. 

One night, after filming, you called Tom. He was on a press tour for Dark World at the same time, which meant that your schedules never lined up. That night was the first time you had properly talked to him in weeks. “Hi, love,” you said. “How’re you? I miss you like crazy.” 

“I miss you too, darling,” Tom told you in his smooth baritone. “I’m alright. Tired as hell, though.” 

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. “Anything I can do to help?” 

“Just talk to me,” Tom sighed, and you imagined him leaning his head back. “Tell me about filming.” 

“Well,” you began. “A lot more physical than what I’m used to. A lot of running around and everything, ya know? My legs are sore all the time.” You laughed, and you listened to Tom’s scratchy laughter. “But I’m surrounded by great people. The Russos are awesome, and of course, Chris and Scarlet and Samuel are fantastic.”

“And Sebastian?”

You hesitated to talk about Sebastian. You hoped that your boyfriend hadn’t caught onto your infatuation with him, but that’s all it was. It was just a crush on a hot guy. “He’s cool,” you said. “Really funny and friendly. Most of my physical scenes are with him.” 

“I know you can’t tell me much,” Tom said. “But do you get to snog him?” 

You laughed, but bit your cheek all the same. “Not yet,” you chuckled. “That’s not until the next Captain America movie.”

“Oh,” Tom said quickly. “I was joking, but… Do you and Sebastian have any scenes like that?” 

“Not in this movie, love,” you assured him. “Are you jealous?” 

“Just a bit,” Tom admitted. “I just wish that it was me that you were kissing.” 

You sighed. “That’s the nature of our jobs, huh?” you said. “I wish I was kissing you too.” 

Tom was quiet for a moment, then he mumbled, “I think maybe we should take a break.” 

You wanted to be shocked, but you knew that it was coming. It was several months in the making and, with nothing concrete keeping you two together, it was inevitable. You weren’t hurt at all. “Me too,” you said softly. “We just… I can’t do long distance. It sounds cliche, but it’s not you, Hidds.”

“Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder,” Tom sighed. “But…” 

You nodded. “I understand,” you said. “But please, if you ever need someone to talk to, don’t hesitate to call me. Alright? I still care about you loads.” 

“Same to you, darling,” Tom whispered. And the call ended. 

The next day was weird, to put it plainly. You felt ill all morning and you couldn’t figure out exactly why, but, the moment you saw Sebastian, you understood it. Your boyfriend’s jealousy was powerful. As much as Tom wanted to blame it on something else, you knew that it was the green monster that had prompted the break up. “Hey,” Sebastian said cheerfully, placing a playful jab to your arm. “You seem tired.” 

“Gee, what a nice thing to say to a lady,” you chuckled. “No, I’m just…” You sighed. “Tom and I broke up last night. I’m a little weird today.” 

Sebastian’s face soured. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “You guys seemed so happy together.” 

You shrugged. “We were,” you said. “‘Distance is supposed to make the heart grow fonder’... But I guess it doesn’t.” 

Sebastian frowned deep, and you pulled you into a tight hug. “I’m really fucking sorry,” he whispered. “Is there anything I can do?” 

“No,” you said, pulling out of his strong grip. Even without the actual metal arm, he was strong as hell. “Just a hug is enough.” 

“I’m glad I can do that,” Sebastian said. His eyes sparkled, and he added, “I understand what you’re going through. Jennifer and I broke up a few weeks before filming started.” 

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed. “Seb! I had no idea! I’m so sorry.” 

Sebastian shrugged. “It was for the best,” he said. The hug had yet to break, but you didn’t mind. Even through the layers of his costume, you could feel Sebastian’s heartbeat on your cheek, and it was soothing. 

Filming finished several weeks after your breakup with Tom, and then it was time for your own press tour. Marvel paired you with Scarlet for most press junkets, but sometimes you were put with Sebastian. Those days were your favorite, mostly because absolutely no work got done. You two were forever laughing and making fun of each other, and you always saw edits of your interviews on social media. 

Finally, the premiere came. You and Sebastian had already agreed to be each other’s dates, but you were blown away by him. His hair was short and styled, and he looked breathtakingly handsome in his expensive black suit and matching black tie. “Oh my fucking God,” Sebastian laughed when he saw you, though. “You look… Holy shit. So beautiful.” 

“Oh, God, stop,” you groaned. Your dress was a beautiful thing, custom Dior, red silk that hugged your body just right, and you shivered when Sebastian’s warm fingers trailed down your exposed back. “You look even better.” 

“Well, that’s not possible,” Sebastian scoffed. “You’re gonna steal the show.” 

“When I’m next to you?” You asked. “Everyone’s gonna be focused on your pretty blue eyes.” 

Sebastian smiled softly, his hand finally settling on the small of your back. “I have something for you,” he said gently. 

“Oh, Seb!” you groaned. “You did not buy me something. You know I hate that!” 

“Aw, c’mon, you’re gonna love it,” Sebastian said, and he reached into a pocket inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a small box, just big enough for a pair of earrings or something equivalent, and he opened it. You gasped. A ring. Silver metal, two diamonds with a ruby nestled in the middle. It was dainty and gorgeous, and you felt tears pricking at your eyes. 

“You piece of shit,” you sniffled. “I just had my makeup done and now you’re ruining it!” You hugged him all the same, though, and you whispered in his ear, “It’s so gorgeous, Seb. Thank you.” 

When you pulled out of the hug, you looked at Sebastian, admiring him. He was truly a gorgeous man, and you felt your chest grow hot at the look in his eyes. Were his pupils blown from love? Lust? Something else entirely? 

He answered the question. Sebastian placed his hand on your cheek and tugged you into a kiss, the hand on your back pulling you in against his body, and you held onto the back of his neck. He was everything you thought he would be: his lips were soft and tasted so nice, like cinnamon and whisky and all things wonderful, and, when the kiss broke, he rested his forehead against yours. “I…” he started. “I’m sorry, Y/N, that was-- I shouldn’t have--“ 

“Stop,” you whispered firmly. You knew that Sebastian, the man you were able to call your best friend, was prone to anxiety, and you didn’t want a single anxious thought about you to cross his mind. “Don’t apologize. If you hadn’t kissed me, I would have kissed you. Thank you.” 

You saw Sebastian’s hands shaking as he slid the ring onto your middle finger, and you smiled at how perfectly it fit. “Bucky,” you whispered, admiring the ring. “Silver and red… Right?” 

“Glad you caught that,” Sebastian chuckled. “Look, I know that I’m just your date, but I just really like you. I feel stupid because I’m so nervous about it, but… Seeing you upset over Tom just made me feel so horrible. I never want to see you like that again, and if I can help to make your days better, then I want to. Can I?” 

You touched your hand to his cheek, and you nodded. “Of course,” you told him. “I’d love nothing more, Seb.” 

[calebdumes]

for @eleni-syndulla because she's an enabler

fandom: star wars rebels

relationship: kanan jarrus/hera syndulla

rating: m (nothing graphic but suggestive)

word count: 1k

~

Hera drummed her fingers against the arm rest while she waited for the results of her diagnostic to load onto her datapad. Late afternoon sun drenched the rows of green crops outside the Ghost’s view-port, in golden rays of light, while feather-like clouds drifted across the deep blue sky at a leisurely pace. The farming moon of Karthi was a peaceful place to make an honest living, far away from the major hyperspace lanes and only a small Imperial outpost in the capital city. It was a place you could go to disappear, a place where Hera could close her eyes and believe for just a moment that there was no such thing as the Empire.

Her datapad pinged, pulling her away from her wistful dreaming and back to reality. She scrolled through the data with a satisfied smile on her face. With that done, she only had one more chore she needed to complete before they could take off. There were a whole host of things that needed to be done to her ship that she hadn’t been able to find the time to do in between jobs and missions.The few extra days dirt-side they had earned from finishing their last job early, had been the perfect excuse to give the Ghost a long overdue scrub down. Even if Kanan would have preferred to spend that time doing...other things.

As if summoned by her thoughts, Hera heard the thump of Kanan’s boots on the ladder and was greeted by his grease stained face a moment later. He smiled when he saw her, causing her stomach to swoop pleasantly.

“Fixed that rattle in the sublights.” he said, pulling himself into the cockpit and brushing some loose strands of hair away from his face. “Gonna go take a shower, if you want to join me.” he added with a wink.

“As tempting as that sounds,” Hera replied, turning in her chair to face him. “I want to finish up here before I call it quits.”

“If you say so.” Kanan said, taking a few short steps to kiss the top of her flight cap.

Hera scrunched her nose as a wall of human sweat filled the air around her. “Ugh, you smell.” she replied, pushing him away.

“You say the sweetest things.” Kanan chuckled and started walking away.

“Hey!” she called to his retreating back, a thought springing to the forefront of her mind. He paused, turning around with a hopeful look on his face. “There’s a load in the washer, can you put it in the dryer before your shower?”

The hopeful look dimmed a little but he offered her a soft smile and a jaunty salute. “Aye, Captain.”

Hera spun back around in her chair and began typing on her datapad, pulling up the needed information to run her last test. A ball of warmth sat heavy in her chest, her lips turned upwards as she worked. It couldn’t have been more than twenty minutes later when she heard Kanan call out.

“Hera,” he bellowed. “I think we have a problem!”

With a groan, she pushed herself to her feet while her mind worked through all of the potential problems Kanan could have discovered in the fresher. “Please don’t tell me it’s the shower.” she began. “Or the water filtration system, I just ran the-” Hera stopped short as she came to the fresher, her mouth going dry.

Kanan stood in the center of the small room, his hair still dripping from his shower and a towel wrapped around his waist, wearing a shirt that had somehow shrunk quite considerably. The dark fabric of the sleeves hardly came down to his elbows and the hem ended right below his chest, exposing his tone midsection. Hera watched as a stray droplet of water ran down the amber skin of his stomach and felt heat blossom on her cheeks.

“I think the dryer unit is broken.” he said.

Hera glanced over to the small dryer unit nestled in the wall, before falling back on Kanan and the defined muscles of his stomach. A bubble of hysterical laughter tore from her lips, her eyes watering at the lost look on his face. “Kanan,” she gasped. “What did you do?”

Kanan frowned. “I put the clothes in the dryer like you said and it kriffed up my shirt.”

Still laughing, Hera walked into the tiny fresher and reached for the bottom of the shirt. She pulled at the hem, looking for a thin strip of fabric that had the washing instructions stitched on it.

“It says to let this air dry.” she giggled.

“How was I supposed to know that?”

Hera let the hem drop and placed her hands on her hips. “You’re supposed to read the tag you moof milker.” she snickered.

“Well that’s stupid.” he grumbled pulling dejectedly at his shrunken shirt. “Now it’s ruined.”

“I don’t know.” she said with a sly smile, closing the space between them and running a finger down his exposed skin. “I kind of like it.”

She felt him shiver, his pupils dilating at her touch. “Yeah?” he asked. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

Hera bit her lip, grabbing at the hem once more. “Actually, I don’t think it’s enough.” she purred. Standing on her tiptoes, she pulled the ruined shirt off of him and reached for the knot holding the towel in place around his hips.

“Better?” he smirked.

“Getting there.” Hera replied as she reached for the hem of her own shirt and pulled it off in one swift motion. She made quick work of the rest of her clothes and stepped into the shower stall, turning the water on and letting the warm water wash over their bodies. Kanan’s thumbs stroked the tops of her hip bones while he left a trail of kisses down her neck, his thigh sliding between her legs.

“What happened to all those other things you wanted to finish?” he asked against her skin.

Hera pushed against his shoulders. “I can leave if that’s what you want.”

“No, no, no.” he said, nipping at her lips. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding.”

“There’s plenty left to do around the Ghost before we leave if you’d rather do that.” She took a step towards the stall door.

One of Kanan’s hands grabbed her by the waist and pulled her back against his body, the heat from his skin making her toes curl. He captured her lips with his own, dragging her into a passionate kiss.

“We can do it later,” he said breathlessly when they broke apart. “Just as long as you finish the laundry.”

Hera laughed, kissing him again. “Love, I’m never letting you do the laundry again.”

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter eleven

chapter eleven

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Warnings: Y/N POV: details of what happened to Stephen, her grandmas cancer, and very detailed explanations of how babies are made (as biologically accurate and not very graphic as possible) this is an angsty trauma filled chapter that made me cry a lot just writing it so I'm sorry in advance

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

June 13th, 2010

There’s a knock on her parent's door at 4 in the morning, Y/N’s sound asleep on the couch back at her grandma’s, awoken by said grandmother as she hears all the noise beyond the porch. There are 2 cop cars at the main house, worry starts to settle over them.

She puts on a pair of shoes, taking her grandmother's hand in hers as they begin the early morning trek up the road, anxiety seeping in deeper and deeper as they get closer to the lights illuminating their driveway.

Her father is talking to an officer on the steps, her mother is crying behind him. “We’re so sorry for your loss,” the officer says and Y/N’s blood runs cold, numbing her from the impending despair.

“What happened?” Her grandmother asks, rubbing a hand along Y/N’s back in preparation for the worst.

“Evan was in a car accident,” her father says softly, knowing that Y/N knows Stephen was with him tonight. She breaks away from her grandma and without thinking she’s right in the officer's face.

“Which one of them died?”

“Ma’am,” it was never a good way to start the worst conversation of her life with that word or in that tone. She felt like a '40s housewife learning her husband wasn’t coming home from the war, only he wasn’t even her husband yet.

He would have been on next Saturday.

“I’m sorry, Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” he says the worst sentence she’s ever heard, and now she’ll never forget it. “The passenger side took the worst of it, once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

She’s surprisingly calm, managing to whisper, “thank you,” before she’s walking off into the field, pushing everyone's hands away as she travels as far as he feet will take her.

She ends up at the willow tree by the pond as soon as the sun is rising, it happened a lot earlier in June than the rest of the year. The birds singing, the wind blowing against the leaves making them carry a tune in harmony together. The world is still spinning, life is moving on, but how?

She sat there against the tree for a while, picking blades of grass and weaving them into a chain, soothing her brain as she makes a pattern. Giving her hands something to do so they stop going numb, it’s the only thing that really reminds her that she's real, that she’s controlling the twists and tucks, the shape and length and the fact that it was created at all.

Ending the life of the single blade of grass as she picks it, never to be whole again. Snatched from its happy place, where it grew loved and surrounded by other matching green strands as they blew in the wind.

Then she's pulling fist full after fist full of grass out of the dirt, her hands covered in mud as she shouts, throwing handfuls of grass and dirt towards the pond. The once blue water starting to turn cloudy; disrupted and upset with her anger as it swallows her weapons, but it doesn’t make her feel better. All she did was disrupt the earth, changing the way this once beautiful patch of land used to look. She couldn’t help but sob, realizing that she was like this field now and her beautiful green pasture was disrupted, overturned and ruined.

The life that flowed through her died along with the love of her life.

“Stephen was pronounced dead on the scene,” the words echo in her mind in a constant circle like she’s stuck in a tin can.

It starts to reverberate, getting louder and louder as the same 7 words all run around in her head. Bouncing off the walls, smacking her down again and again as she hears them over and over and over… she’s holding her hands on her ears, shaking back and forth, sobbing when she feels someone wrap their arms around her.

She doesn’t open her eyes, instead, she's rushing to push them off of her, struggling out of their grasp as she fights them. Finally, she loses, being held in her brother's embrace as they both cry, he barely has a scratch on him when she finally looks at him.

she’s never been physical in her life, but she punched him right in the face. Her twin brother, best friend in childhood and the person she’s known the longest in her life. He held her close in the womb, crying if they separated as soon as they were born, she loved him deeply and yet she hated him something fierce at that moment.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Evan cries, “we were stopped at a red light, Y/N!”

“I don’t care! He was supposed to be my husband!” She swats at him, smacking his arms again and again as he tries to hold them back, holding her so tightly as she basically screams bloody murder in the field.

All she can see is his face, her beautiful happy Stephen. The first time she ever saw him, standing under a street light in Boston, papers in his hand and wonder in his eyes. The way he looked up at her, the glow of the light making a halo glow over his head.

She should have known he was too good to be true. Always destined to return to the heavens, he was truly angelic with his big emerald eyes that were only the tiniest bit yellow on the edge of the pupil, the way her name sounded on his tongue like a blessing coming true.

They buried him 2 days after what was supposed to be their wedding. Disrupting another beautiful patch of earth to hide him away forever, she placed a single rose on his casket, she never said goodbye and she never planned to.

“See you later, superstar,” she patted the glossy black box once last time before sending him down into the earth.

—

September 2012

This fucking willow tree and 7-word sentences…

“What do you mean you have cancer?”

Her grandma let a tear slip from her eye, “I’ve got colon cancer, honey, the doctors said I have another 2 years, maybe 5 if I'm lucky.”

Every time someone sat beside her in this one spot, she learned the worst information in the world. Sure Evan didn’t mean to kill Stephen, doesn’t mean she’s talked to him at all in the last year. with Grandpa dying only a few summers back, her favourite house cat now buried in the yard, she can’t lose her grandma now too.

“Okay,” she starts to plan in her head, her eyes about ready to jump out of her skull as she tries to think of all the things they need to do before it’s too late, “let’s go to England, let’s blow my bank account, you can’t leave me without going to England with me? We were supposed to get tea and pretend to be the queen and princess?”

She couldn’t stop the tears, her whole body heaving as she sobbed into her grandma’s dress, “you can’t leave me too!”

“Your grandfather and I have a fund for you, you were the last baby we got to raise when your mom went back to work, I want you to use it for that baby we talked about,” her grandma’s voice is barely a whisper, softly getting the words over her vocal cords as the tears joined Y/N’s on her dress.

Without another word, she took her hand and walked home, getting in her car together and heading to the closest fertility clinic, she booked her first insemination for February, pre-paying for a round of IVF hormones and everything to start in January, she had 3 months to plan.

Finding the perfect donor was the only hard part. She had 3 different books to choose from with all the clinics in the DC area sharing 1 sperm bank. She finally made her decision 3 weeks before they were set to get her pregnant when they updated the books.

Sample 2319, male 30’s, healthy, high IQ, 6’1, brown eyes, brown hair (curly). “Sounds a lot like Stephen,” her grandma agreed, saying his name for the first time in over 2 years, she knew this was her guy.

—

June 14th, 2021

Peeing on a stick shouldn’t be as terrifying as it is.

She hasn’t been this nervous since the first time Dr. Collins inseminated her. Laying back on the table at a weird elevation to make sure she got pregnant, her whole body tense as she thought of the possibilities of her future child.

Sample 2319 sitting in a cup not too far from her face as she prepared for a man she barely knew to put the semen of another man she didn’t know, inside her. She only picked this guy cause he was smart and tall, no health issues to report and the number made her think of Monsters Inc.

In her mind, she made a baby with a man she named mike wazowski, not knowing his real name was actually Spencer Reid and he was only just down the road at Quantico the whole time. It was the weirdest day ever, and then it became the second-best day of her life

Nothing could top holding her baby in her arms for the first time. Her grandma and mother beside her as they all cried, the perfect purple baby screaming on her chest as they tried to wipe the white gunk off her tiny body. her sweet little coos, seeing her swollen eyes open for the first time, the silence that overcame her as they made their first introduction to each other. Her little person, the love of her life, her wonderful Amoreena.

Her cry was perfect, like music to her ears she wanted to hear her little voice as long as she could because it meant she was alive and real. She was healthy and beautiful and the most perfect bundle of joy she could have ever made.

Now she was hiding in the bathroom to pee on a stick while her 7-year-old had breakfast in the next room. Oh, how times changed, but one thing remained the same, she was finding out alone again. Only this time she meant for that to happen, it was exactly 4 days since her period was supposed to start and it wasn’t there, neither was Spencer.

He had something to do that morning, but he’d be meeting them later that afternoon, it was Amoreena’s last day of kindergarten after all. She wanted time to either enjoy the thought of having another baby or cry in peace because for once it didn’t work, giving her a week to recover before trying again.

Amoreena was a miracle, the easiest IVF baby they ever made at the clinic, apparently. If she was pregnant this easily again it was a sure sign that he was Amoreena’s father too, only he could get her knocked up while not even trying.

She didn’t remember pregnancy tests taking this long, she flipped it over and walked out of the room, unable to think of anything else while she waited for 3 minutes to pass. Amoreena noticed she was being weird, studying her mother's movements as she paced the hall outside of the bathroom door.

“What are you doing?” She asked, curious as ever as she twirled lightly in her new princess dress.

“Can you keep a secret?”

“Always mom, I’m the best secret keeper in all the kingdom, remember?” Amoreena smiled, holding onto her leg as she stared up at her.

“Your dad and I tried to make a baby,” she whispered, petting the litter hairs on her forehead as Amoreena looked up at her, her first little baby. “I’m waiting to find out if it worked, but we can’t tell anyone in case it didn’t, okay?”

Amoreena’s eyes were wider than she’s ever seen them, her mouth opened slowly as she understood the words in her mind. She didn’t look happy or surprised, nor upset or worried. She looked confused, “how?”

She laughed then, shaking her head as she lifted Amoreena into her arms, she would have to know soon anyway. “You know how every month mummy has a bad week where she bleeds and her tummy hurts?”

“Yeah?”

“When people with our parts grow up they make little tiny eggs but we don’t lay them like chickens do, they stay inside our tummies and wait to become babies and if they don’t we have a period and release all the stuff our bodies saved up that month to make a little person. You’ll have one soon too in a few years, probably when you're 12 like I was, and when people with a penis get old enough they’re able to help us make the babies like roosters help the chickens. Our bodies are really special and make some really cool things when we try to,” she explained it in the most simple farmhouse way she could.

“Like when the goats are all born in the spring and they just show up?” She tried to clarify, understanding it at the basic level.

“Kinda, you’ve seen the photos of you in my tummy and how aunty Shannon’s stomach grew when she had your cousins, I’ll get really big like that too if I’m pregnant, the baby will grow for 9 long months till they’re nice and healthy and then we’ll have another person in the family,” she couldn’t help but smile as she thought about it.

“How do we find out?”

She opened the bathroom door then and carried Amoreena inside, setting her down on the sink and pointing at the upside-down test stick. “We create a special hormone when we’re pregnant, it’s something that can be detected in our pee!” she explained it like it was magic, watching her get excited instead of grossed out.

“So I peed on that stick and if it has 2 lines I have a baby in my tummy, if not then your dad and I have to try again.”

Amoreena picked up the test and looked at it, keeping it out of her mothers sight as she did so, “there’s two lines,” she lit up waving the stick lightly as she squealed.

Y/N wrapped her up in her arms and twirled her around, “you’re gonna be the best big sister ever!”

“How do we tell dad?” Amoreena’s soft voice whispered in her ear as she snuggled into her shoulder.

“I have an idea,” she whispered back before carrying her back into the kitchen.

Her All About Me project was sitting on the counter, ready for Y/N to drive her into school today. She set Amoreena down on the floor to watch her as she took some tape and taped the stick to the bottom corner of the project. “Pass me the marker, please?”

Amoreena ran to the counter to get it, coming back and placing it in her mom's hand before leaning in to watch what she was writing.

“I’m going to be a big sister sometime next February!” Amoreena read the words as her mother wrote them, unbelievably excited.

“Your dad can read that at the ceremony tonight!”

“I thought you said we can’t tell anyone yet?” Amoreena questioned her, like always.

“Your teacher can know, the other kids won't know what it means, it’s just important Spencer sees it, but we will wait to tell nanny and poppy, okay? Sometimes the babies don’t always stay, it’s sad so we keep it a secret until they’ve got a tiny little heartbeat in there,” she didn’t want to scare her, but she knew it was always a possibility.

“Then we try again,” Amoreena smiled, “It’ll be easier now that you don’t need Dr. Collins to help you, how did you even make me without Spencer?” She didn't use his real name often anymore, only in times when she wasn't referring to him as her father.

She sat down then, pulling Amoreena into her lap so she could hold her while she thought of the right words. “So we have eggs, but people with penises have something called sperm. When adults, and I mean adults you have to be at least 25 to have a baby it’s the rules,” she teased her slightly, ticking her arms.

“Adults have sex, babies are made when someone with a vagina and someone with a penis get together. But when you don’t have a partner with a penis to help, sometimes they’ll donate their sperm to the doctor's offices to help people like me make their perfect little families all by themselves.”

“Interesting,” is all her little mind can say, she has learned so much in one day, Y/N was surprised she was still listening and surprisingly still for once. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

“We won't know for a while,” she smiled, holding Amoreena closer to her chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

Amoreena was quiet as she thought about it, “is Spencer the guy who gave the doctors the sperm for me?”

“We think so, but we don’t know, why?”

Amoreena looked at her softly, “it wouldn’t be fair, I know he said I don’t need a father but why do they get to have him for both?”

“I think Spencer is your father, you’re just as smart and wonderful as he is, there’s no doubt in my mind that you’re his baby too. but if you want to know if he isn't, when you turn 18 the doctors will tell you who it is, it's completely up to you to find out,” she whispered, the tears starting to fall down her cheeks as Amoreena tried to wipe them away.

"I like thinking he's my father, so he is." Her mind worked in the most wonderful way. Y/N couldn’t help but hold her close as she lightly cried, “I had a dream yesterday that I had 8 sisters,” her voice was so soft and innocent as her tiny hand cupped her mother's cheek.

She gasped lightly at the words, remembering Spencer’s panic in the middle of the night last night, how scared he was to leave her all alone with 9 babies and no one to help her. They knew something that she didn’t yet, cheaper by the dozen seemed less like a dream and more like a prophecy.

“I’m so happy to make your dream come true,” Y/N whispered, “I promise I’m happy, the baby just makes me emotional.”

Amoreena placed her hand on her tummy then, “I love you, baby.”

Y/N stuck her tummy out as far as she could, “I love you too, big sister,” she said in a funny voice to make Amoreena laugh, leaning back in the chair as she held her.

And just like that, getting pregnant with Amoreena was bumped into 3rd place for the best day of her life. Sharing the moment with her and no one else was perfect, insuring she knew that she was just as important moving forward as the little person she was growing this time.

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187 let me know if you would like to be added as well!!

[harrylovex]

MAN IN A SUIT

summary: you meet Chris at a wedding and he takes you back to his house...

warnings: fluff, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering, spitting, filthy dirty talk, alcohol usage

a/n: ummm this is my favourite thing i have written so far...i love wedding!chris ;) feedback is much appreciated and let me know if you have any requests! also please don’t hesitate to send me a private message if you guys ever need a friend to talk too. love you all lots!!!!!!

you were sat in a church, fourth row from the front, wedding leaflet perched in your lap. a smiling couple’s photo on the cover, welcoming you to their special day. you waited patiently for the ceremony to begin.

abby, one of your close work colleagues, was getting married today, and you were so happy for her. the church was beautiful, big paintings all around, softly decorated with flowers everywhere.

her husband to be was quite weathly, so they had gone all out with the wedding, guests had been arriving for the last half an hour and the benches were beginning to fill.

you sat quietly in your dress, looking around every once in a while. you didn’t have a plus one, you didn’t have anyone to bring. you were kind of shy when it came to talking to men, and so you had only ever had a few short term boyfriends in the 23 years that you had been on this earth.

as you sat daydreaming, the last few guests began to arrive.

suddenly, there was an ass in your face, someone squeezing past you, knocking your knees.

“oh! sorry!” you exclaimed, picking your feet up and letting the unknown person pass.

“no worries, it’s my fault for being late”, a deep voice said. you looked up at the man, the light shining around his face. he was gorgeous, you’d never seen anyone like him.

you smiled as he sat down next to you, his thigh rubbing against yours. oh my god, you thought to yourself, he was hot.

he was wearing a dark blue tux and looked incredibly handsome, his beard and smiling mouth making you swoon a little. you tried to hide the fact that you were blushing.

the man turned to you as he sat down, holding out his hand. “sorry i startled you a minute ago, i’m chris”.

his eyes sparkled, looking you up and down. you chuckled to yourself and shook his hand. his palm feeling big and warm against yours, goosebumps crawled over your skin, and you prayed to god that chris hadn’t noticed.

“i’m y/n”, you replied, smiling widely at him.

you both faced forward again as the music started up. abby’s husband was standing now at the altar, sweating a little. the huge doors opened at the entrance and abby slowly began to walk through, arm hooked into her dad’s as he walked her up the aisle.

you gasped a little, taking in how beautiful abby looked, her hair in curls down her back, a small tiara perched on her head. her dress was strapless and trailed down her back, reaching a few metres behind on the floor.

abby reached the altar and the priest began his usual routine. you sat back on the bench, distracted by the gorgeous man sat next to you, he was so close, and smelt so damn good.

he leaned towards you discreetly, keeping his eyes on the bride and groom.

“so...bride or groom’s side?” he whispered.

“bride’s, you answered. i work with abby, have done for the past few years.” his breath tickled your right cheek, smelling of spearmint toothpaste. “you?”

“also bride’s side, i’ve know abby since we were kids, i used to live next door to her.” chris returned to his earlier position, and you both sat in silence for the next twenty minutes. listening intently to the bride and groom seal the deal and say their vows. every now and then you would sneak a few side glances at him, seeing how the light shone on his face from the window. he sat with a small smirk on his face, his large hands perched on his thighs that were spread out, still touching yours.

just before the ceremony was about to finish, chris dropped his wedding leaflet on the floor in front of you. he bent forward to pick it up, grabbing your right thigh with his hand to keep himself balanced. you tensed at the gesture, feeling the adrenaline rush through your body. chris took his time sitting back up again, accidently banging his head on the bench in front of him in the process.

“shit”, he mumbled loudly, making you laugh.

“shh!” you both turned around, looking from where the noise came from. and old lady behind you scowled, holding her finger up to her lips. chris looked at you and raised his eyebrows, making you giggle again. you both turned back around, chris rubbing the back of his head with the hand that had just touched you.

you both sat in silence for the rest of the ceremony, finally getting up to gather with the bride and groom outside. just before you went to walk through the doors, you grabbed chris’ hand from in front of you, taking him by suprise. “can i stay with you outside?” you asked him. “i don’t really know anyone here apart from abby...and now you i guess...” chris stared at you, immediately making you look down at your shoes, regretting what you had said.

chris hooked his pointer finger under your chin, making you look up at him. “of course you can, love, follow me.” the way he called you love made butterflies explode in your stomach. he grabbed your hand again, pulling you through the crowd to the green garden out the front.

all of the guests were gathered around in small groups, champagne flutes in hand, chatting about the lovely ceremony that had just taken place and getting to know new people.

“can i get you a drink?” chris asked you, never letting go of your hand. “sure, champagne is fine.” you watched as he wandered off towards the drinks tent, taking in the sight of his body. wow, you never thought that you were going to meet someone so handsome and friendly today, funny how things can change.

chris walked back with two flutes in his hand, some black sunglasses perched on his nose, making him look even hotter than before.

“thank you” you said as he handed you your drink. he smiled at you, pulling you over to a group of people he knew, introducing you before striking up a conversation.

it was a few hours later, the evening creeping up on you. you had consumed quite a few glasses of champagne by now, the alcohol making you feel confident, but a little dizzy.

you had lost sight of chris about an hour ago, getting caught up in conversation with abby. chris had been wonderful, introducing you to everyone and now you had pretty much spoken to over half of the guests.

“y/n! come back to the house with me, i need help getting ready for the party tonight”, abby said, smiling. she still looked incredible in her dress, totally relaxed and happy. “i’d love to! let me just grab my bag.” you walked over to the cloak room area, searching for your small shoulder bag.

once you had found it, you sauntered back outside, eyes landing on chris a few metres away. he was caught up in conversation with abby’s dad.

his eyes met yours, his pupils a little dilated from the alcohol. he muttered something to abby’s dad, walking slowly over to you.

“hey. he said, grinning slightly. “hi”, you replied, laughing at him. “listen chris, i’m going back to abby’s to freshen up for the party later”. his expression dropped. “will I see you again later?” he asked, making your heart flutter.

“maybe...” you replied, smirking up at him. just before you turned away to leave, a wave of confidence came over you, and you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, in a spur of the moment. “see you later” you whispered in his ear, your hand on the back of his neck.

you scurried off, leaving chris stood on the grass, cheeks tinted red, his mouth a little open.

you had been to abby’s, and now you were back at the venue, having a delicious dinner. sadly, chris was not on your table. but you made small talk with everyone, glancing at chris a few times as you sipped your way through a few gin and tonics. you were definetley taking advantage of the free bar.

you hadn’t spoken to chris since before you left for abby’s, and you were dying for him to approach you. he sat a few tables away, he had taken his blazer off, and sat in his trousers and white shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a silver ring perched on his middle finger.

your eyes met a couple of times throughout dinner and dessert, chris’ eyes staring into yours as you smiled at him innocently.

finally, people started to abandon the tables, moving over to the bar or onto the dancefloor. chris didn’t miss the opportunity, coming over quickly and sitting to your right. he hooked his fingers onto the underside of you chair and pulled you towards him, until your thighs and elbows were touching. he smelt of aftershave and beer.

“so...did you have fun at abby’s?” he questioned.

“yes I did actually, what did you do while I was gone?”

he smiled. “i hung out here with the groom and a few of the other guys.”

you looked over to chris, his eyes glistening. his tongue flicked out onto his bottom lip for a second, and you wondered what it would feel like to kiss him, what his hands would feel like roaming your body. the alcohol was definitely starting to take over your thoughts.

chris stretched out, snaking his left arm around your shoulders and resting it there lighty. you stared at his hand, his fingertips softly grazing your collarbone.

the two of you sat like that for a while, talking as if you’d known eachother since forever.

after a while, you started to feel a bit flustered. “can we go outside for a bit, it’s getting hot in here.”

“of course.” chris stood up, holding his hand out. you gladly took it, stumbling a little as the alcohol rushed to your head.

“woah!” chris caught you by the waist, his arm extending back around your shoulders.

“maybe i shouldn’t have had that last gin and tonic.” you laughed together, reaching the doors. chris opened them, letting you go through first. you gave him a small smile.

it was much quieter out in the open, and you started to feel much better after a few breaths of fresh air.

you turned around, looking for Chris and saw that he had gone round a corner and was leaning back against a brick wall, staring at you whilst he took a sip from his bottle of beer.

your eyes met his and you blushed, looking down. he gestured with his fingers to go over to him, so you did.

you slouched against the wall next to him in silence. you stayed like that for a few minutes, before chris spoke up.

“you know, i never thought i was gonna meet someone like you here today, i’m so glad I didn’t bring some random chick as a plus one.”

you laughed a little, running your hands through your hair. “if i knew i was going to meet you here i would have told abby to get hitched years ago.”

it was chris’ turn to laugh now. he took a long swig of his beer, as if for confidence, and moved to stand in front of you, placing his free hand on the wall next to your head.

his eyes bore into yours, leaving you speechless.

“can i kiss you?” he asked, his tongue slipping out to lick at his bottom lip.

you didn’t know what to say, so you just nodded, your heart beating out of your chest.

chris smirked, leaning in until your lips met.

his lips were so soft and warm, fitting like puzzle pieces against yours. you kissed him back firmly, your hands on his chest.

his hands wandered to your waist, squeezing slightly. you gasped at the contact, chris taking this opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth.

he tasted of beer, his tongue exploring your mouth. you’d never felt anything like it, you couldn’t believe that the hottest guy you’d ever seen was actually kissing you up against a wall. chris moaned into your mouth and you thought you might faint just by the sound.

you laughed a little under your breath, and chris pulled back, breathing heavily.

“what are you laughing at?”

“um...your beard is tickling me.”

he laughed out loud, smirking before moving to kiss along your jaw.

it felt so good. he moved down to your neck, his fingers trailing down your thighs, hitching your dress up a little.

pressing kisses along your throat, you lifted up his shirt a little, running the tips of your fingers up and down his abs.

he bit at your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, making you whimper against his ear. chris had never heard a more beautiful sound.

his hands found their way to your painties, cupping between your legs.

you breathed out harshly at the contact and pulled away.

“chris, as much as I want to, we can’t do this here.”

chris was also breathing heavily, his lips red and hair messy, he looked gorgeous.

“we’re leaving.” he said bluntly, grabbing your hand and pulling you back into the venue.

his eyes searched the room, looking for abby. his eyes landed on her standing by the bar, chatting to one of her old friends.

chris pulled you over to her.

“abby, me and y/n are leaving.”

abby looked chris up and down and saw you standing behind him, your hands entwined. she smirked, she knew you both too well and realised immediately what was going on.

abby laughed, her eyes sparkling. “have fun.” she said, “and Chris...look after y/n.”

you giggled, feeling chris’ hand tighten around yours.

“oh don’t worry, I will.” chris said. butterflies erupted in your stomach. you were in for the best night of your life.

abby waved you guys off and chris took you outside again, hailing a cab.

you climbed in after chris, excitement rushing through your veins.

chris mumbled his address before returning his attention to you, hands roaming under your dress.

you straddled him, forgetting about your seatbelt. his hands grabbed at your ass under your dress, earning a moan from you.

your hands were hanging loosely from his neck while you kissed him roughly.

chris bucked his hips up and you whimpered, not expecting it.

“fuck darling, i can’t wait to get you home.”

you smiled at the way chris called it home, running your hands through his beard.

the cab stopped as soon as it had started, the journey seeming short when your mind was focused on the literal greek god in front of you.

he pulled you off of him and you straightened your dress down over your thighs.

chucking a few notes to the driver, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the cab and up his driveway.

you could definitely get used to holding his hand like this.

woah, his house was huge. you gasped to yourself and tugged at chris’ hand.

he turn around and stopped, raising an eyebrow.

“your house is beautiful.” you said. chris laughed and grabbed you by the neck, pulling you towards his lips. you didn’t think you could ever get bored of kissing chris. everytime was like the first.

he kissed you harshly for a few minutes, making the butterflies in you stomach start to move down to your core.

you shivered, partly because you were cold and chris noticed, dragging you into his house. he didn’t stop until you were both in his bedroom, closing the door.

you stood awkwardly while chris took off his shoes, watching him from across the room.

he smirked and motioned for you to sit on the bed...you obeyed.

he lifted you up as if you weighed no more than a feather, putting you down so you were propped up against the headboard.

he pressed his lips against yours roughly, making you feel numb. he moaned into the kiss, stopping for a moment to pull your dress over your head and unclip your bra.

he leaned back to get a good look at you, taking his own shirt off. your eyes nearly bulged out of your head when you saw how chiselled he was. jesus.

he laughed at your reaction. “stop staring.” he said, moving to kiss by your collarbones.

the soft kisses he was leaving was making you open your legs unconsciously, your body sliding down the bed.

“eager are we?” chris asked with a smirk, running his fingers across the tops your thighs. “anything i do that makes you uncomfortable, you tell me immediately.”

you smiled at his kind words, your fingers tangling themselves in the hairs at the nape of his neck, his mouth moving down to suck at your hard nipples.

“fuck!” you cried out, your chest arching up.

he teased, sucking and licking at your nipples as if his life depended on it, moving from the left one to the right.

at the same time, he reached down and unbuckled his trousers, pulling them off quickly before discarding them in a corner of the room.

his attention back on you, he pulled you roughly by the ankles, making you lay flat on your back.

“are you gonna be a good girl for me?”

you nodded. lost for words.

“no, love, you’re gonna have to use your words if you want me to do something.”

“yes chris, please, i’ll be so good for you.”

he smiled at that, hooking his fingers in your panties and pulling them down and off of your ankles.

you breathed in and out, trying to catch your breath, but it was impossible with the way chris was looking at you right now.

you squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some friction.

chris tutted, pulling your legs open by your knees, his eyes never leaving yours.

goosebumps formed on your skin as chris picked your left leg up and slung it over his shoulder, kissing down your calf.

you stayed silent, watching him intently.

after what seemed like ages, he reached your core, blowing onto it lightly.

you whimpered, wiggling your hips.

“what did i say about being a good girl?” chris questioned, sending a light slap to your cunt.

you squealed, wiggling even more.

“fuck, my little puppy’s so wet for me.”

you moaned out at his choice of nickname, thanking god in your head that you had met chris.

chris began to taste you, his tongue sliding up your slit, creating a rhythm.

you squeezed your eyes shut, not having felt this much pleasure in your entire life.

“shit chris, it feels so good.” you could hardly speak, your words coming out in chokes.

“you taste delicious baby.” chris moved to your clit, applying more pressure with his tongue, grunting with every movement.

you reached your arms out, grabbing fistfuls of chris’ hair, pulling hard. you thought that you might be hurting him, but from the noises he was making, and how he was speeding up his movements on your clit, you realised that he loved it.

“so good for me...” he mumbled, never removing himself from you.

your pussy clenched around nothing, and you craved for chris’ fingers to be inside you.

not being able to form a sentence from the pleasure, you reached down and grabbed at his hand, pulling it towards your cunt. his fingers grazed your folds, before he pulled away.

“tell me what you want pretty girl...is it my fingers?”

“y-yes chris, please, please i need your fingers inside me.” you stuttered.

“aw, my little puppy wants my fingers stuffed into her cunt, is that it?”

you nodded, whining loudly. you looked down and saw Chris fumbling with his fingers.

he took his silver ring off of his middle finger, grabbing your hand and sliding it onto your own, looking up at you and smirking, his beard covered in your juices.

before you could process what had just happened, he spat sloppily onto your cunt.

you gripped the sheets, your pussy clenching hard. that was the hottest thing you had ever witnessed, you thought you might just come from that alone.

chris spread his spit through your folds, before sliding his middle and ring finger into your dripping hole.

you shut your eyes, clenching around his fingers, adjusting to the size.

“fuck baby, so tight for me, pulsing around my fingers.”

he started to thrust his fingers in and out fast, simultaneously licking at your clit. you moaned loudly, knowing that you weren’t going to last much longer.

chris wrapped his arms around your thighs, holding you still as you squirmed underneath him.

your legs started to violently shake. “chris, chris fuck, i’m gonna come!”

chris loved the way you said his name, speeding up the pace on his fingers and his tongue.

“come for me, come on my tongue like a good girl.”

your orgasm took over you, you felt as if your soul was leaving your body. you cried out, gripping chris’ hair, your legs shaking violently.

you squeezed your eyes shut all through your high, chris’ pace beginning to slow down once you became oversensitive.

your heart felt as if it was gonna burst out of your chest. you could feel your juices dripping down your thighs.

chris pressed soft kisses up your torso until he reached your face.

“my girl did so well for me. came so hard.”

you started to come back to your senses, turning your head to face chris.

he smiled at you cheekliy, his fingers sliding into his own mouth, licking at your juices.

your breathing sped up again. you moved your head over to kiss him, tasting yourself.

“that was amazing.” you smiled into the kiss, moving your hand up to chris’ hair. “i never thought i’d end up in your bed when i woke up this morning.”

chris chuckled, his eyes darkening again.

“oh darling, we haven’t even started yet.”