#rather I WANT to say this but can’t bc the tone is supposed to be serious

[niicevibe]

Hmm hm hm, how to put “as if it’s a big “fuck you” to the gods” in proper fiction lingo………

[merakiui]

what if darling randomly choses floyd at those husband selections bc they think ‘eh, he cant be that bad’ (he is very bad)

(cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, female reader, apocalypse logic, mentions of pregnancy/breeding, misogyny)

Floyd is an interesting case because whether or not he’ll agree to being chosen is solely mood dependent. If he’s not feeling it, he’ll just shrug you off and that’ll be that. But you’re the first bride to have enough courage to choose him, so either you’re fearless or you just like to toe the line of danger. Or you have no idea what he’s like.

He’s carefree about the entire selection, even though it’s supposed to be this really important thing, his thumbs hooked in his pockets when you point at him and say that he’s the one you want. “‘Kay,” he’ll agree without much hesitation, shrugging nonchalantly. Azul has told him that he ought to be a little more conscious about selections and what they mean, but Floyd doesn’t care. So what if the population’s on the decline? What’s that got to do with him?

The walk through the compound back to his lodging is when Floyd begins his curious, unfiltered questionnaire. He may be disinterested in the process, but that doesn’t mean he’s disinterested in you. No one ever picks him—not that he’s saddened by that. He could care less, but you’re interesting and he wants to know more.

“What do ya get out of pickin’ me, shrimpy? Can’t just be because it’s me.”

You blink at him. Wasn’t he the one who should already be well aware of that? You broach the subject as simply as you can, not because you’re awkward about it but because you genuinely have no idea how to tell him that the entire purpose of selections is to pair two individuals together for the sake of breeding. He’s nodding as you speak, looking you over more closely while he walks, mismatched eyes searching for something.

“So ya wanna be fucked full, yeah?”

Well, at least he catches on quick. Floyd’s rather vulgar about the entire thing, but that’s always been his normal. He doesn’t blush or get flustered by things like sex or nudity. Why should he? That’s just a part of life. You think he might be easier to deal with, blunt honesty and all, and that you might be able to get this over with sooner than expected. But to your surprise he tells you that he’s not really feeling it and that he’d rather just go back to sleep instead. You have no idea what’s up with the sudden shift in tone. He was disinterested before, but now he’s gone apathetic, yawning not-so-subtly and going on about how it’s so lame Jade woke him up early for this.

You follow him all the way back to his bedroom because you have nowhere else to go, and when you tell him that you’re meant to stay with him he just shrugs and opens his door for you. His room is a mess, dirty clothes lying discarded in piles, snacks both opened and unopened scattered throughout, and his bed is an entanglement of sheets and blankets. Maybe you really should go back to the bride dormitory; you suspect anything would be better than this. But Floyd’s already flopped onto his bed, slipping into slumber rather quickly, and now you’re left alone in an unfamiliar, filthy space. For a while you just pace to and fro, reviewing the pros and cons of this arrangement. But then pacing becomes boring and so you busy yourself with looking around at your messy surroundings. You’re not sure what compels you to start gathering dirty laundry, but once you’ve set yourself into cleaning mode you can’t stop.

Floyd wakes to watch you do this, lying propped on his elbow as his eyes follow you. “Shrimpy likes clean stuff, huh?”

“Well, I don’t like unclean stuff,” you reply, a basket already filled with clothes that need washing.

Floyd giggles like it’s a funny retort, his eyes crinkling with mirth. “Guess not.”

And that’s how your bond starts, with you acting as Floyd’s little maid and he acting as…Floyd. He never complains about it. He never objects when you ask him to get up so you can strip the bed, but he does make it very difficult for you, sometimes intent on remaining in bed just to see what you’ll do. He’s always smiling, whether in amusement or something else you can’t quite say. He seems to enjoy teasing you, sometimes knocking something onto the floor so that you can pick it up or clean. He’ll stare at the way you’re bent down and, weeks into a very strange relationship, he finally realizes he could just make you his personal stress relief. Teasing you was relief enough, but it’s always boring relieving himself in other ways, where he just has his hand to rely on.

Floyd doesn’t tiptoe around what he wants. He’ll look at you with lidded eyes, a smirk sprawling across his lips, while he tells you there’s another spot you’ve yet to clean. Obviously he means his dick; you’ll have no choice but to agree to get on your knees for him. That’s basically what you’re meant to do, right? You’re just a hole for him to use whenever he wants. And though it’s demeaning to hear such things, it’s the unfortunate truth.

What’s strange about Floyd is that he knows what’s meant to come out of this partnership, but he never really considers much about your futures. Instead, he’ll use you for his own enjoyment. You essentially become his sex toy. For a while that’s all he treats you as. He’s always feeling you up, always wanting to bite and mark you. He has lots of fun with this newfound relationship. Between lots of sex (he’s oddly good at pulling out right before he cums), there are a few moments where he’s tender. He cooks most of his meals himself, using the kitchen that he and Jade share in their lodging, and he’s brought you a tray of breakfast one morning when you were too exhausted and sore to get up. He even feeds you; how sweet. Floyd’s hard to read sometimes. When he isn’t muttering filth while he fucks you into the mattress or against the wall or in the bath, he’s fawning over his shrimpy. He’s getting attached in more ways than one, and now it’s getting harder for him to really look at you as he has before.

Floyd is possessive. He’ll mark you in bruises and bites so that everyone will know you have a husband who fucks you better than anyone else in this compound possibly can. If anyone stares too long at you, he’ll grip your chin and yank you into a heated kiss of teeth and tongue to show the poor soul that you’re off the market. And if anyone thinks to touch you… Floyd’s beaten people bloody for saying vulgar things about you, for trying to touch you, for looking at you wrongfully. He can’t explain it, but it really frustrates him when people do this. You’re his shrimpy. You’re his bride. You’re all his and no one else’s, so everyone who tries to get between the two of you can get lost.

Floyd tends to fidget when you aren’t with him. He’s bored easily and very restless. He hates when you have those usual health check-ups and he’s not permitted to accompany you, and he hates when the doctors imply that it’s surprising you haven’t gotten pregnant yet. He’ll fuck a baby into you when he wants; everyone needs to lay off. Can’t he just fuck you for the fun of it? Apparently not because you’re one of the rare instances where you’re not immediately knocked up after a selection. Somehow that makes Floyd smug. Those doctors can keep hounding him all they want. It’ll just make him not want to do it even more.

But then he truly thinks about it in the days following that check-up. You’d look so soft and cute if your belly was all stuffed and rounded, and he’d get to cook so much for you. Floyd considers it when he’s doing his usual rounds for Azul and you’re not there to entertain him. Even thinking about it has him hard and aching. He wonders if you’d let him fuck you while you were a few months along. Maybe you’d let him do anything if you were needy enough. And if you were pregnant, you’d really become his.

The next time you’re under Floyd he looks at you differently. It’s difficult to place an emotion to his stare because he looks so focused when his eyes rove over your chest and he leans down to bite along your collarbone and shoulder. “I’m gonna breed ya good,” he’s mumbling into your skin as though it’s a prayer. “Gonna make ya a mommy.”

You don’t have much of a say in that matter, but when you’re too sex-brained to think of anything else pregnancy seems like less of an obligation and more like a dream come true.

[rocksinmuffin]

just realized you write for twst!! may i request some more ace and deuce being jealous bc their best friend / crush is being courted by a literal fae prince and smh they just can’t compete with that

God thank you so much you are the first (and so far, only) person to request Twisted Wonderland and this is exactly my shit 😤

~*~

Ace would never admit it to anyone, but he considers Deuce a rival.

Not when it comes to studies. Deuce is dumb as a sack of bricks. And, sure, most of the time Ace’s grades aren’t much better, but that’s just because he’d rather not waste any time studying. If he ever put any effort into his classes, he would be fine. Deuce actually tries and he’s still in the bottom of their class.

He doesn’t consider him a rival when it comes to sports, either. Deuce is probably more athletic than Ace is, but they just don’t share the same interests. Because Ace likes cool sports like basketball while Deuce is content to focus on track. It’s hard to be upstaged by a guy just running in big circles.

But when it comes to love? Well…

There’s nothing more pathetic than the way Deuce stares you down like a lovesick puppy whenever you aren’t looking. He’s so obvious about it! The way his expression gets so soft and how his fingers twitch like he wants to reach out and hold your hand but is way too much of a coward to actually do anything. It’s irritating. Especially when you speak to Deuce in a softer tone than you ever do with him. Your gentle encouragements are nothing like the playful barbs you exchange with Ace. Not that Ace would ever trade your back-and-forth for anything but would it kill you to be that sweet with him every once in a while?

And maybe some of Ace’s irritation is colored by the fact that he also has feelings for you but Ace thinks that even if he didn’t have a crush on you it would still be annoying.

Still, rivalry aside, Ace knows that Deuce has his back when it really matters. And right now, there’s a bigger threat vying for your affection than the two of them combined.

Ace has no idea how you even met Malleus Draconia. As far as Ace is aware, the guy usually has himself holed up within Diasomnia’s dorms most of the time and, when he isn’t, he’s got a whole entourage of bodyguards glaring at anyone who so much as sneezes in the Prince of Briar Valley’s general direction. Well, to be fair, Sebek is the only one ever glaring, but the point still stands. How you managed to get close to the guy is a mystery.

And there’s no denying you are close. The two of you might just be talking—and no matter how hard Ace strains his ears and stares at your mouth as if he’ll suddenly learn how to read lips, he still can’t manage to make out what the two of you are saying—but everything about Malleus’ body language broadcasts his interest.

It’s the way his shoulders loosen up, much more relaxed than the stiff and rigid way he carries himself in public. It’s the way the corner of his lips tilt upward whenever you speak when the only other smiles Ace has ever seen from the guy were thinly-concealed threats. It’s the way his eyes soften around the edges as he looks at you like you’re his whole world.

Ace knows that look. He’s caught Deuce giving you that look enough times to recognize it for what it is. He’s given you that same look so many times there’s no way he could misinterpret the love and desire and affection of that gaze.

Ace’s only saving grace is that you’re as oblivious to Malleus’ feelings as you are to everyone else’s. If you ever did find out, it would be game over. Because how is anyone supposed to compete with a literal prince? It’s not fair.

Lucky for Ace, he’s never been one to play fair in the first place.

Ace steeples his hands under his chin as he schemes, eyes on you. You’re so dense you’d never figure out Malleus likes you unless he confesses. And he can’t confess if you’re too distracted to give him the time of day.

Ace glances over to Deuce. Deuce is chewing on his bottom lip, eyes hardened and fingers digging into his lap. He looks like he wants to start a fight with Malleus but—for once in his life—he’s smart enough to know that’s a fight he can’t win.

Deuce only looks away from you when Ace nudges him in the arm. Deuce glares. Ace shrugs his head in your direction. Deuce raises an eyebrow then nods his head in understanding. No words are exchanged. None are needed.

Ace rears back and aims a punch for Deuce’s jaw at the same time that Deuce’s fist makes impact with Ace’s right eye.

They aren’t scuffling for long before Ace can hear your voice screaming in his ears, hands yanking at the back of his jacket to physically pull him and Deuce away from each other.

You’re lecturing them. Telling them how stupid and immature they are and how you’re always having to keep them in line. Your hands are on your hips and your brows are furrowed in that cute way they always do when you’re mad. Deuce looks genuinely cowed by your words, clearly upset to have disappointed you, but Ace has to bite back the smirk eating at his lips when he notices Malleus is long gone.

His eye has swollen shut but, five minutes later, when you’re fussing over him and pressing ice to his bruise, Ace can’t help but feel like he’s won.

[somewhereinthepines]

hi hi! been curious about .. will you ever write a non-murder hector?

i suppose, i might do it at some point? but then, if i’m being completely honest, i kinda dig the canonical hector / du’met’s attire the most. *twirls fingers together* so in a way, it’s not easy for me to separate his murderous intent from him completely. in the back of my mind, i will always make a mental note about how it's smth, that he's capable of.  

besides, i generally love deeply nuanced characters. their mental struggles & misery is a good food for my brain. and their flaws are usually very precious to me. i tend to play into it vs making the characters overcome it. i usually don’t make my favs better, than they really are. in fact, i often make them give into their worst traits/impulses, bc it’s the most fun for me.

i’m also not the kind of author, who writes good-natured ‘fix it’ stuff tbh. many things (media), that i like on this acc are tied up to a narrative, that is written to be both disturbing & tragic. so instead of giving the characters a ‘happy ending’, i just try to give them smth nice in the middle of all the mess. or just make their situation even more shitty, haha. depending on the idea, that lies in the center of my story, anyways. but in most cases, the final goal isn’t to make the characters get better in some ‘fully healing’ way or smth, but to consider a variation, where they can get what they want without being ‘saved’. naturally, it can differ in the level or in how far the narrative can go with it, but in the end, i kinda love ‘fixing’ smth very messed up & sad in canon by changing the tone, rather than overwriting everything.

and when it comes to hector, i’m very enamored by the possibility of him still having charlie’s love, even when it’s all gone too far & he can no longer turn back. i mean, if charlie can accept hector munday like that, at his very worst, then what else can hector realistically ask for? this is the maximum level of devotion, that someone can show to a person. sticking with them, even when everything goes awry & wrong. charlie isn’t there to act as hector’s savior. he’s smart enough to know, that he can’t truly change him at that point. but maybe, he can make it easier & offer him a distraction. a hand, that doesn’t chastity or punish, but that keeps one grounded. 

i guess, what i’m saying is that it’s easy to imagine charlie being in love with hector munday, who’s just well, a sad, lonely dude with a traumatic past. but it’s more thrilling for me to imagine charlie, who would still love hector, even when he poses as granthem du’met. their canonical dynamic is predator/prey, after all. and i rarely see it being executed in tasteful ways in the media, so starting from the demo of the game, i was just like ooooh, that’s so pretty & intriguing. their first meeting made my heart go doki-doki lol. so like maybe, this is also why i’m kinda mentally unwilling to fully let go of this imagery? it was more, than i could have hoped for. and then, i’m historically weak in my knees for captor/captive stuff, when it’s done ‘right’. and now, i have one of such kind and it’s supermassive too! *girly giggle* for me, it’s like a present on bd tbh. i'm so happy to unwrap it.

but honestly, it’s a mere personal pref. a whim. and nothing stops me from eventually giving hector a story, where everything goes more smoothly and somewhat ‘normally’ for him. well, to a degree. so at some point, maybe i will write smth like that. but atm, all ideas that i have for du’lie are tied to du’met being a murder. the themes & visuals that it implies are very appealing for me, when it comes to the horror genre, and i’m a simple fella. i just do what feels ‘natural’ to me. 

sorry for a long answer, i guess, i just wanted to kind of explain my current view on this topic. everybody depicts things differently, and tbh, this fandom offers a fair share of different outlooks on du’met & charlie. and thankfully, there are a few authors/creators, who provide fics with set-ups, where hector is just a man with issues. so it’s not like this au doesn’t get covered. 

as for me, i’m a weirdo who tends to play in their own sandbox. so at times, if the wind blows, i might write smth unexpected, but well…usually, there is still a murder or some disturbing stuff looming in the background lol. i have very little understanding of 'naked' gentleness or pure fluff, or like…well, just nice things being nice without smth surrounding it, like a slowly closing fist. so usually, i just sit on side, watching how other folks do it. so this isn't like i don't like those set-ups. i'm just isn't the person, who can easily conjure smth like that, haha.

[wwwcapricorncom]

“I Want To Play A Game”

Second part to the Ghostface series | Apart of Kinktober 2021

Ghostface Series Pt. 1 is here (you don’t have to read them in order!)

Who is under the mask this time ;)?

REUPLOAD BC IT GOT FLAGGED UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUCKKKKFJKJENKJRFNKJEB so run the likes and reblogs up again ???? T^T

Description: You didn’t think that flirting with Ghostface in a haunted House would leave you so... helpless.

➥➥ Included Kinks: Oral (F and M Receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, Slight darker themes such a power dynamics, restraints, slight blackmail ig if you squint, orgasm denial, face fucking, gagging, hair pulling, smacking, some exhibitionism, anal play, squirting. Use of the words- ‘daddy’, ‘brat’, ‘slut’. Characters are aged up. MINORS DNI.

wc: 5.4 k

You walk past the line of excited and partially tipsy college students to the side entrance that Jirou had told you would be on the north side of the building. You thought you were running late, but had received a text not too long ago from her, saying the opening of the haunted house was going to be pushed back an hour or so and to take your time. The problem was that you were already just about there when you had received the text so you figured you would still go inside to aid her and the others in setting up the room within the house.

You had figured you’d easily stumble upon the evil doctor themed room or that you’d see someone who, by your costume: a rather dark themed slutty nurse, would point you in the right direction. However, after aimlessly walking into the wrong rooms and not seeing anybody occupying them, you started to feel a bit lost. You remember her saying that you all would be on the first floor, so you are confused as to why you haven’t discovered them.

At this point, there is one room left and to the right of the door, on its wall, is a large glass mirror. You feel it is fitting of the theme so you fling the door open and see that it is dimly lit inside and only decorated with some light blood on the walls and a table in the center which seems to have restraints on it. The door closing startles you enough to make you yelp which alerts the other person in the room.

“Holy- holy shit I didn’t see you there-

You stop talking as the person turns around and you see who they are dressed up as, “oh Mr.Ghostface how original.”

“And what are you supposed to be?” The person inquires and you can hear the dull, unimpressed tone that laces his voice even though the voice changer.

You pout, walking up to him and doing a little twirl before his eyes, “c’mon Mr.Ghostface I’m a slutty nurse can’t you see or should I give you a better look?” You tease and you can hear him click his tongue in annoyance.

“You’re too eventful. It’s annoying enough that I have to participate in this haunted house. I can’t handle you too-

“You don’t mean that, do you? I’m sure you were just sitting around here bored, why wouldn’t you want to have some fun. Matter of fact, I have some time to spare too!” You giggle actually very amused by the person under the mask. You loved the game of not getting enough attention from someone acting high and mighty just for them to succumb to you eventually. You were also eager to see who you were going to be able to sink your claws into, what unsuspected boytoy laid under that mask.

“It was quiet when you weren’t here though.” He states as he crosses his arms over his very defined chest. He is only wearing a black t-shirt so you can see the definitions of his upper body not to mention the muscles of his strong arms. Black ripped jeans adorn his long legs as you calculate he must be about 6 feet or so. All contributing to your throbbing cunt at this point.

You feign ignorance, “quiet and boring.” You say as you cross your arms too.

He sighs as he starts tapping his foot on the floor, “what do you want from me?”

A wicked smile forms on your face as you say, “duh to play a game!” All the while meaning much more provocative activities. If he didn’t have a mask on then you would have seen how he rolled his eyes, but bit his lip at the naughtier idea that, too, popped up in his mind. Maybe this could be fun, he starts to think, after all he has always had his eyes on you. A lot more than he’d like to admit and low and behold you come strutting into his room, just asking to be put into your place.

“What did you have in mind?”

“Hello you’re the one who is Ghostface, you should know.”

“Hmhm… I see... What's your favorite scary movie, Miss nurse?” He asks and you just about die hearing the condensing tone in his voice. You lick your lips, as you look up at him about to spew an answer.

“The one where the man dressed as Ghostface fucks the little helpless nurse.”

Now, knowing that you two are in sync in your desires, the man decides it’s really time to have fun, “I’ve never heard of it.” He smirks and you pout, rolling your eyes and backing away from him which makes him chuckle.

You start to pay attention to the decorations in the room a bit more in detail as you scheme something up to provoke the man, “you’re a bit mean huh?” You mutter finally nearing the table in the center of the room.

Your eyebrows knit together as you try to figure out how one would be restrained to it before it finally comes together. A small hum comes out of your mouth as you lean forward so that you’re bent over on the table. Breasts press against the wooden top as you place your hands through the little metal clasps.

“Is this how your dirty little contraption works?” You laugh as you shake your ass a bit, but halt quickly as you feel his presence behind you. So suddenly.

He’s clasping the constraints in a flash, so that your wrists are bound to the table while, rasping a “no” as he fixes you just how he wants. You’re shocked at this, not understanding how he switched from being so uninterested to alert. You start stuttering, “h-hey what are-are you doing?!”

He’s only humming at this, bending down to catch your ankle and clasp it to one leg of the table before doing the same to the other. By the end of it, you’re effectively confined to the table with legs spread apart, “this is how it works”.

Your heart is hammering against your chest as he runs a finger up the back of your thigh, admiring his work before reaching the frilly skirt that very poorly covers your ass. He wastes no time in flicking it upwards to expose your cute red panties, licking his lips as he notices the darkening wet spot on them. How cute.

“Ah, you’re a lot quieter now I thought you wanted to make a movie?” He coos and all you can do is stutter, completely flustered by the change in dynamics. How did he get the upper hand? You think, skin breaking out in goosebumps as he continues to trail his finger over your flesh.

A harsh slap lands on your ass and you just know the skin is reddening and rising as you let out a cute pained, moan. “Answer me, do you want to continue?”

You whimper attempting to shake your ass for him as you nod your head which lies on the table, “this is nothing I can’t handle.” He shakes his head and lands another slap to your ass loving how it bounces and bruises so easily under his touch.

“What a modest nurse, good then, I'll enjoy seeing just how far you can go.”

Something about that makes your stomach bloom in hot anticipation as he pulls down your red panties, a rush of cold air hitting your cunt and making you squirm. You can hear the floorboards creak under the pressure of his dirty converse shoes as he squats down behind you, using one of his fingers to spread your pussy lip.

“Fuck.” You whisper, loving how exposed you are to him, knowing that some stranger is watching your pussy hole clench and unclench with the want of something as it grows wetter.

He whistles lowly at this, impressed by “how much of a dirty little slut you are.” He then runs two fingers up your pussy and it makes you quiver a bit which he enjoys, watching those sweet plush thighs and full asscheeks jiggle in his face. Gosh he’s going to wreck you just right he thinks.

He stands up abruptly and bends over you so that his chest is against your back before weaving his middle finger through your soaked folds, “this is pretty sinful of you baby”. He states as he increases the speed of his finger, finally allowing it to rub against your clit.

“Don’t care, don't care I-I just want them inside.” You state wagging your ass from side to side in hopes that he would listen.

“I'm going to make a brat like you understand how to act in the presence of a real dom.” He growls as he pulls his finger away from your cunt to slap it roughly and you gasp loudly, jolting forward some.

You begin to protest again, “but- but I want it already. Stop teasing me!” He only chuckles, his eager bulge under his jeans beginning to press against your folds. The friction makes you optimistic as you both begin to grind into each other. His coarse hands grabbing your hips to further the rolling of his hips even thrusting into you which creates a soft omph noise.

“Now the games really start…” He mumbles and suddenly he’s swirling two fingers around your clit, “If you listen to me, then you’ll get to cum very hard tonight. If you don’t listen then you’ll be very disappointed. Understand?”

You nod your head slowly while starting to indulge in his ministrations which causes him to grunt before yanking your head up by your hair. Your eyes fly open because in the same instance of his pulling, he’s plugging those two fingers into your pussy hole.

“Use your fucking words when I’m talking to you.”

You choke on a moan, “ye-essss yess! I understand!”

“Good girl.” He replies loosening his hold on your hair as he starts to rake his fingers through it, massaging your scalp where you’d have an undeniable ache because of his yanking. You couldn’t help but feel oddly warm and turned on by his approval, succumbing to his actions.

He is good at multitasking in this way as he gently massages your scalp, but starts to completely piston his middle and ring finger into your pussy, “fu-uck yes yes!” You groan bouncing back into his fingers now wanting to push them further in, wanting them to touch your g spot.

He would have scolded you for acting without his permission, but the way your ass bounces on his fingers is something he is starting to relish, watching the flesh ripple upon every impact with his hand. The masked man finds himself wanting to see more, so he starts to twist his finger around in your pussy, knocking into your sweet spot and making you cry out.

“You’re leaking so nicely right now.” He purrs, “your fingers are so l-long!” You state as he starts to curl into your g spot, abusing it repeatedly as if he was smashing a button over and over again. Your slick is running down his palm and wrist as you start to fall victim to his fingers.

He picks up on this like a pro, “are you about to cum sweetheart?'' he asks, getting close to your ear. The weight of him against your back again, his warmth, just heightens the orgasm that was approaching.

“Yes, ‘m gonna cum! Gonna cum!”

He snickers at this as he pumps faster, only uttering one word at that moment: “Don’t.” You, through the fog of it all, try to turn your head to look at him, eyebrows knitting together in confusion and strain, “w-why, what do you-

“I’m not going to let you.” He cuts off your rambling as he pulls his fingers out of you, making your legs shake as your orgasm trickles away, so close to having bubbled over. Your lip quivers and he’s snickering all over again, “I’m just training you baby. You waltzed in here like such a fucking brat it would be a shame if I didn’t correct you!”

As you’re trying to find the right words to articulate how angry you are, he squats down before your pussy again. Your anger starts to dissolve as the hairs on your body stand to attention because you can feel his breath on you. That means his mask has to be slightly elevated if not completely off. Just as you're about to try and turn your head to get a better angle he’s smacking your thigh, “keep your eyes ahead or else.”

Biting your lip, you decide to obey and he's quickly pressing his lips to your pussy which has your back arching. A long “oooo” leaves your lips as he begins to make out with your pussy, his own soft lips moving as if he were making out with an actual mouth. He gulps a few times before sucking and slurping again, suckling your folds into his mouth and between his lips where he pulls at them slightly. “-taste amazing”, he speaks into your folds.

If you weren’t restrained right now then your hand would be on his head right now, stuffing him as far as he could go, not caring about if he could breathe because he was damn good at this. When he pulls back again he spits on your clenching hole which makes you moan, the feeling of his hot glob of spit strategically landing right on your entrance before he starts spreading it around with his fingers was making drops of sweat form on your skin.

He slips them back in again before warning you, “don’t cum.” His voice was low and raspy and it was oh so familiar. If you weren’t being such a slut in lust right now you’d surely be able to identify him, but any intelligence is lost when he starts to pump his fingers into your tiny hole while sucking on your clit. He’s growling and moaning in harmony with the squelching of your obnoxiously soaked pussy.

“How a-am I not supposed to cum?” You shriek as he starts to get harsher and sloppier with his movements, pumping into your g spot ever so deliciously while shaking his head from side to side in your cunt. You’re reaching your peak when he starts lapping at you with a hot, flat tongue feeling the coil in your stomach about to snap.

“I can't, I'm going to- cum!” You yell and as soon as this leaves your mouth, he leaves you. The frustration makes you ball your hands into fists.

“This shit isn’t fair!” You shout and he tsks pulling your hair swiftly again, “that fucking mouth of yours is such a problem.” He harshly let’s you go before making his way to the front edge of the table, walking up to it so that his struggling, defined bulge is in your face. You flick your eyes back and forth between it and his masked face.

“I’d be impressed if you can handle this. In fact it might even warrant a reward.” He states as he pulls his shirt up, holding it under his chin as he unbuttons and unzips his pants. You ponder disobeying, but you weren’t in a position to act much bratty plus you were more than ready to cum and if that meant seeing this through a bit more then fine.

He’s yanking down his underwear and jeans slightly, allowing his big cock to slap against his stomach and your face. You can see that the pretty, pink tip has already started leaking with precum and you’re quick to swipe at it with your tongue.

“Oh fuck- very good girl.” He groans as he thrusts slightly forward, making his cock slide into your mouth before he hesitates then pulls entirely back out.

“Look, um the safe word is Halloween okay?” He’s serious too not having any intentions on letting whatever the fuck this is get out of hand and you slightly swoon, “thank you”.

He hums at this, realizing you’re very cute in any context as you open your mouth and stick your tongue out as a signal to continue. He grabs his throbbing cock and pushes it into your mouth, but doesn’t stop until he’s bottomed out. Your nose presses cutely to his pubic bone as you gag, legs shaking as he moves to retract only half way, watching as you inhale sharply. Your eyes are glassy already and they squeeze shut when he thrusts back inside.

You’re moaning and trying to swirl your tongue and suck him as he starts to find a pace to quite literally fuck your face to. He’s tightly cupping your face with both hands as he starts to rhythmically snap his hips forward. You only have a few seconds in between to breathe and your throat is beginning to raw, but you like the way he is using your mouth like his own plaything. It turns you on and has you getting slicker by the second.

At one point, he bottoms out in your throat and puts his hands on the back of your head, keeping you there for as long as you can hold before he starts to feel you pulling back. He frees you, completely pulling out of your mouth where you can’t help but sputter, saliva dripping from your mouth and his cock.

“Puker those sexy fucking lips up for daddy.”

And you do, sniffling a bit to collect yourself before puckering your redden lips, he groans before taking his wet cock in hand. He pumps into his fist a couple of times as you watch in awe before slapping it against your lips. He smears your saliva and his precum everywhere- on your lips, cheeks and nose.

When he starts fucking your mouth again, he’s moaning subtly as he picks up the speed feeling his own release nearing.

“You’re talking daddies cock so well, fuck yes you are.” He mumbles bending over you to start to toy with your pussy again. To show him you like it, you start bobbing your head faster to his thrusts as he starts to insert his fingers inside you.

As soon as you feel them fully slot inside, you’re moaning contently around his dick, the vibrations making the man’s toes curl as he starts to fuck into your mouth harsher. You’re a gagging, moaning mess working on pleasing him while also focusing on how he’s attacking your sweet spot again. You didn’t need much now, no, you’d cum without even giving him a warning. It’s your plan. He will be too distracted.

Your legs start to shake so harshly, your mouth producing more saliva as you literally drool at how hard you can feel your orgasm coming. Your eyes are rolling to the back of your head as you almost go slack about to be overcome by pleasure when he does it again.

Completely pulls away from you. Ruining yet another orgasm.

A sob so harsh rips through your gut as tears fall from your eyes, “awwwww” he coos while grabbing your face in his large hands to make you look up at him.

“Now this. This is a broken brat. You look beautiful like this.” He is fake pouting under the mask.

“P-please daddy I’m - I’m ready to not be a brat. I’ll do whatever you want. I’m sorry. Just please please let me cum!” You throw out everything you think he wants to hear and then some and he’s utterly satisfied, bending down and resting the side of his face against the wood table, mimicking yours. Neat black painted nails reach out and wipe away the fresh tears that have fallen from your teary eyes “hush hush baby, no need to get all worked up especially after how good you just took this cock down your throat. Daddies going to keep his promise.”

You sniffle a bit at this, moving into his touch unsure on if he is telling the truth or not. He can sense your weariness as he stands up and walks around the table so that he is finally against you again. He wastes no time in gripping his member in his hand and rubbing the tip against your folds, “You believe daddy right?”

If possible, you arch into the table even more ass sticking out as a jolt of pleasure rips through your body at the micro action, “I b-believe you!”

He’s smirking at this as he pushes the bulbous tip in your needy hole, making you cry out while spit pools in the corners of your mouth and escapes down your chin as he pushes further inside. As soon as his hips smack against your ass and he is fully plunged within your thirsty walls your vision is spotting. You cum hard, ignoring how he struggles to hold back a moan of surprise as you shake violently.

“Did you… did you just cum?” He asks truthfully dumbfounded by this and you're apologizing profusely.

“I-I - I’m so sorry daddy please I couldn’t help it, just feels so good-  please don't stop please please-

He’s cupping your throat now as his other hand bunches the fabric of your skirt to aid him in his upcoming onslaught, “shh sh sh...such a sexy slut for that. You go ahead and indulge in this cock. I want you to remember everything, how every fucking vein feels.” He states as he begins to snap his hips into you slowly, knocking the air out of your lungs as he holds you up by your throat.

Each thrust is calculated, rubbing every crevice as you start to moan unceremoniously. Whoever the fuck this is, is teaching you a new meaning of sex and he knows it as he starts to choke you harder.

“Agh, agh fuck I love this, I want you to use me alll the time.” You whisper, nails digging into the wooden table in attempts to not pull against the restraints. He’s adding more force behind his thrusts now, slowly retracting only to plunge back in with teeth chattering force as you grow dizzy. Just when you feel your vision closing in and your face growing red from lack of blood flow, he releases your throat.

He’s next to your ear in an instant, kissing it softly, “your pussy feels amazing,” he raspily states before trailing his tongue from your ear down to the middle side of your neck. He places a wet open mouth kiss against your flesh before sucking it between his teeth, lightly biting and sucking to nurse a bruise into the soft skin.

“Attention Haunted House workers, the test run will begin now. Please be ready to run your exhibition.” A loud voice sounds throughout the building, making your fluttery eyes snap open.

“What's that?” You try to sound concerned, but it comes out breathy and light as he continues his attack on your neck.

He does not stop his actions, snapping his hips into you more roughly while talking against your skin, “a test run”, is all he says before he’s cupping the underside of your chin to make you look up at the wall before you. It is the one decorated with the mirror, “that’s a double sided mirror, we can see out but they can't see in.. unless I press a button to start the exhibition.”

You feel your legs wobble as the sound of voices start to fill the hallway, “should I turn it on so everybody can see how much of a nasty girl you are?” You try to formulate sentences, getting more aroused and embarrassed by his lewd idea, as you shake your head profusely.

“Why not, you're enjoying yourself so much. You're literally strangling my cock right now.” He taunts as he begins to rub your clit, “I'm going to let everybody see.”

“No daddy don’t please!” You plead just as people walk in front of the glass, “did you hear something?” They say as they get closer to the mirror, tapping it slightly just as he rams his fat cockhead into your g-spot.

Your eyes cross and he covers your mouth just as you’re about to scream out, “if you don’t cum quietly for daddy then I’m going to let them see me fuck you stupid”. He murmurs, lips pressing against your ear and you nod rapidly. He lets go of your mouth and continues to rub at your clit while fucking into your gspot. Your jaw drops as you try to not make a sound, a part of you not caring if someone sees how blessed you are right now, watching the people peer at the glass awaiting some horror spectacle. It’s only then that you really try to focus your eyes on the people behind the mirror. Your body heats up even more as you watch your group of friends, the entirety of the male Bakusquad, tap on the class.

“Do your friends know that you're such a slut, hm? It's crazy that they have no clue a slut like you is spearing herself so desperately on a cock just on the other side of that glass. I bet you want to make a fucking noise. To get caught all stuffed stupid and bound.” He states through clenched teeth as he rapidly flicks your clit with his fingers, making you cum on his cock for the second time that night. Mouth agape and eyes in the back of your head, you can’t even manage a squeak through how hard you’re cumming, you feel his pumping slow as your upper body goes slack on the table.

Your breaths are shallow as you lay, cheek smashed on the table, dizzily watching your group of friends retreat down the hall. “I swear, guys, that was supposed to be Hitoshi’s room!” Denki tries to explain to the group as they walk further down the hall and your pussy twitches even harder if possible around the length as your eyes widen.

“Oh no… I've been exposed. Not that that slutty little pussy of yours cares.” He deadpans with a cool and collected cockiness. You can hear the mask plop to the floor as he rubs your thighs, trying to do anything to turn that dumb little brain of yours back on.

You on the other hand are trying to muster up the courage to look him in the face, you two weren't particularly close, but had a couple of classes together. He was just the hot, quiet guy that tagged along with your group sometimes… not anything like this. As you throw a glance over your shoulder to take him in his fingers stumble upon something that is tucked into the front side of your skirt and takes it out, out of curiosity. A smirk spreads on his face as he sees a thermometer and stethoscope, he looks at you, surprised that you are able to even look at him and decides you can handle some more. After all he still does owe you one more orgasm right?

“Is the nurse feeling a bit under the weather? You look like you've gone through a lot. Mind if I.. take your temperature?” You're barely paying attention, tongue tied by how fucking hot he looks right now. Purple locks disheveled every which way as low, bag rimmed eyes bore into yours. You gulp, preparing to talk, to say anything when he plops the thermometer in your mouth which surprises you. “What are you-

He’s hushing you and making sure you keep your mouth closed until the item beeps and he takes it out, “only 98.1, that can't be accurate, right Miss Nurse? Good thing I know of a more accurate place I can stick this...”

Your ears perk up at this as you go to stand upright, only to remember that of course you’re still fucking bound. He chuckles as he spits on his fingers, lathering up his index finger before he starts to softly rub your asshole.

“H-hey you c-can’t I’m too sensitive!” You try to protest, “it's hard to tell if you're serious with how much your pretty little asshole is puckering.” Your cheeks burn red at this and you feel him place the cold metal tip of the thermometer at your asshole. He pushes it inside swiftly which makes you moan loudly before he stuffs his still erect cock back in your pussy.

“AGH UH I-I CAN’T!” You squeal as he pushes the thermometer further in your ass while bottoming out inside of you. Your cunt is squelching and drooling all over him as he gives you a few shallow thrusts while toying with the device, testing it out by pulling it out a bit before shoving it deeper into your tight hole.

Your uneven panting and moaning is enough indicator for him as he starts to fuck you barbarically now, anybody who walks past will surely hear, as the device beeps again. “It- fuck- says 101.2. Fuck baby y-you’re burning up inside. Because I’m fucking you so good, huh?” He is in awe at how aroused you are, how much wetter you have grown not to mention how your walls quiver around his cock while hugging it so snuggly. It’s affecting him almost to a lethal degree, but you’re no better. You’d like to say that you weren’t enjoying this all the more now that you know who is treating you so well, but that would be untruthful. He starts to push the device further inside, never slowing his thrusts- too mesmerized- and you begin to babble with a sense of urgency.

“If- if you, shit shit, keep pushing it deeper then you’ll-

Before you can finish the thermometer presses against your g spot in the same instant that his cock is kissing it so sweetly. The combination rips a scream from your lungs as your body basically heaves, shooting a stream of cum all over the floor and the man's shoes.

The force of your gushing, pushes his cock out just in time as he paints the floor and your ass with his sticky thick cum, watching as you shake so violently “holy fucking shit, holy fucking shit”. His voice strains and shakes as he continues to pump his cock not thinking he could produce so much ejuculation, every spurt providing immense pleasure.

By the time he is done, you're laying there dumbly, breath hitching erratically as you try and bring yourself back. His cock is screaming with sensitivity as he wipes it clean and fixes himself, panting as well. He's quick to grab some supplies that he was planning on using for the haunted house to clean you up, gently wiping your lower regions before fixing your clothes. Then he's unclasping your restraints and sitting you on the table as you both collect yourself quietly.

Just as he’s about to speak, there are knocks on the door and he throws one look at you, silently asking if it’s okay to open to which you nod, pulling out your phone and ignoring the millions of messages you have. You’re fixing your makeup when Denki comes inside talking about how he knew this was Hitoshi’s and Neito’s room and asking where he was. He started explaining how Neito was running late when Denki finally saw you.

“Hey y/n I think the girls were looking for you what happened? I didn’t know you and Hitoshi were acquainted!”

The tall man only softly chuckles at this in response as Denki continues, “watch out man this one is fierce!”

He looks at you, allowing a relaxed, almost lazy even, smirk to spread across his face while his eyes flick up and down your body. You can't help but press your legs together, you can practically feel him inside you all over again and you almost want to mewl in response to his look.

“I don’t think I have much to worry about right, y/n?”

Nobody would have guessed that that was the night Hitoshi became such a good daddy to you.

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

╔══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╗

scum of the earth

╚══•.·.☆.·.♥︎.·.☆.·.•══╝

ʚ Naoya Zen'in x chubby fem reader ɞ

Part 1 ♥︎ Part 2 ♥︎ Part 3 ♥︎ Part 4 ♥︎ Part 5

❥ Word Count: 6.2k

❥ CW: chubby fem reader, smut, friends with benefits, daddy kink, suggestive stuff, misogyny, sexism, bullying, fatphobia, a bit of angst/hurt at the end

❥ A/N: heyyyy. So ummm part 2 got so long that i have to split it up so in will actually post on tumblr sksksk so now you get four parts instead of three! Congrats sksksk. If the ending seems a bit off it's bc this part wasn't supposed to end there, so ig you could say there's a cliffhanger? ALSO, the first section is supposed to take place in the past, which is why the quotations are italicized. Hope that's clear! Anyways enjoy 💕

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon princess, don’t be like that—”

“No, Naoya, that sounds like a horrible idea.”

That’s how it’d started. You were minding your business as usual, getting your mail when a disgustingly familiar face showed up and started bothering you. You had done your best to avoid Naoya since that night, ducking behind corners when he came around and scoping out the scene before you dashed out of your apartment and past his. You were bound to run into each other, being neighbors and all, but you hoped that you would’ve been able to avoid him for longer than a week.

“You’re avoiding me,” he had accused. He was right, but you still didn’t want to admit it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, sweetheart. The innocent act doesn’t suit you.”

You’d expected him to bully you, to pull out all the stops in order to make your veins bulge with rage. You didn’t expect him to flirt. You definitely didn’t expect him to suggest being friends with benefits.

“What?”

“C’mon, you heard me. I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

“Fuck no.”

“At least think about it—”

“No.”

“Aw, c’mon princess…”

He’d followed you up the stairs, listing off all the pros to his awful proposition. You’d tried to ignore him, truly, but he was like a mosquito you couldn’t shake off or smack dead. You didn’t take what he said seriously until he blocked your path to your apartment.

“You’re really not going to give it a thought?”

“No, Naoya. I’d rather die than be your fuck buddy.”

“Funny, you didn’t seem to feel the same last week—”

“Oh, fuck off—”

“Come oooooooon,” he’d whined, caging you in against the wall, keeping an arm up so you couldn’t run away and lock yourself into your home. “You can’t deny that it felt good. Didn’t even take ten minutes to make you cum twice.”

“You say that as if you didn’t cum right after.”

“So what? Still made you cum before me.”

You wanted to punch him, wanted to wipe that stupid smirk right off his face. How dare he act so smug about a one night stand? All he’d done was get his dick wet and yet he acted like he hung the stars in the sky. Fucking asshole.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“You were full of me too.”

God¸ he was awful, so fucking arrogant and annoying, with his stupid straight teeth and snarky smile and dirty blonde hair. Did he dye it or was the two-toned hairstyle natural? It looked too soft to be bleached. And did his brown eyes always bore into you like that, like he was digging for some long lost treasure?

“And how many women do you have this kind of relationship with?”

“None, technically.” He’d leaned against the wall, one hand tucked in his sweatpants while the other brushed his knuckles against the wall, inches away from your side. “I don’t usually fuck the same pussy twice.”

“Oh wooow, I feel so special,” you groaned with a roll of your eyes, crossing your arms and looking away. He clicked his tongue, slipping closer to you, sneaking his hand to your lower back.

“Come on, baby. Don’t be so cold to me.” He dipped down towards your neck, breath fanning your ear as he began rubbing circles into your back. “You should be flattered. It’s not every day that I pursue a woman.”

“Yeah, especially a fat woman, right?”

“So feisty,” he breathed, nosing at your neck, lips brushing against you. “Here I am, trying to be all sweet and nice, and you treat me like this? Such a mean girl. I outta teach you a lesson.” You scoffed, pushing him off and putting some distance between you.

“I’m not falling for this ‘sweet and nice’ act you’re putting on. Don’t pretend like you haven’t been an asshole to me since the day we met. I haven’t forgotten how you’ve treated me.” Naoya hummed, following you as you moved around him to get to your apartment.

“Well, how ‘bout I make it up to you, princess? Hm? Make you feel so good you forget about all the mean things I’ve ever done to you?”

“Do you ever shut up?” you asked rhetorically, pulling out your keys to unlock your door. Naoya snatched yours keys up, holding them over your head. “Hey!”

“Just one night, okay? Just to test the waters. If you hate it, fine, we can go back to being shitty to each other. But I think we could both have a lot of fun if you just gave it a chance.”

“You’re impossible.”

“And you’re kinda cute when you’re mad. What’s your point?”

Your cheeks burned, body heating up at his compliment. God, you really hated him. Why did someone so annoying have to be so handsome? Why couldn’t you have attracted some skinny white guy instead, someone nonthreatening who actually treated you right? Why’d you have to attract the rich piss boy next door?

“Why do you wanna fuck me so bad, huh? You can’t find any other poor girl who’s insecure enough to open her legs for you?” He shrugged, leaning against your door, swinging your keys around his finger.

“You may be the exact opposite of what I’m looking for in a woman, but you’ve got a great pussy.”

“Wow, what a compliment.”

“Hey, you asked. Can’t blame me for being honest. It’s not my fault you were leaking like a goddamn faucet—”

Your hand had slammed on his mouth, shutting him up as you heard footsteps approaching. The two of you stayed still, waiting until the person passed your floor and continued onward. You let out the breath you were holding, releasing Naoya and glaring at him when he snickered.

“Look, just give me my keys and—”

“Not until you say ‘yes’.”

“Oh my God, Naoya! Why the fuck would I agree to something like this? You treat me like shit and expect me to just take it without complaints. You’re the worst person I’ve ever met.”

You weren’t sure if it was just your mind playing with you, but you could’ve sworn that you saw his narcissistic façade falter that day. You didn’t have time to process if you were correct or not when his sneer came back to life.

“Jesus, you’ve made your point. I’m an asshole, absolute trash, scum of the Earth, blah blah blah. You wouldn’t fuck me again if I was the last person on the planet; I get it. So do you wanna have sex or should I go back to bullying you for entertainment?”

You blinked, eyes narrowing at his choice of words.

“… Are you saying you won’t bully me if we start fucking each other regularly?” Naoya shrugged.

“Sure. I’d get a lot more out of fucking you than making fun of you.”

Your body relaxed slightly, the prospect of your nightmare of a neighbor finally leaving you be settling in. If he kept his word and didn’t bully you anymore, then even the thought of fucking him didn’t leave a sour taste in your mouth. He was handsome (unfortunately), and he was good enough in bed that you would choose him over your toys. Maybe if he shut his mouth, you could even imagine he was someone else—

Your keys were dangled in your face, jingling quickly. You blinked, looking up to meet Naoya’s confident gaze.

“Well? What’s it gonna be, pretty girl?”

“Oh fuck… t-touch my clit, please—”

Naoya groaned behind you, but not in the way he had been for the past ten minutes.

“God, seriously? Why can’t you just do it yourself? I’m kinda busy here.” You huffed, looking over your shoulder and glaring back at him.

“Naoya, I will leave this apartment and never fuck you again if you don’t put in a little more effort here.” Naoya rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated groan.

“God. Fine, but don’t complain about being sore later.”

“Fine, whatever, just touch me already.”

You could hear Naoya huff behind you—whether it was in a humorous or annoyed way, you couldn’t tell—his chest pressing against your back, his arm curling around you. He palmed your mound, squeezing the excess flesh before slipping his fingers between your chubby lips, targeting your clit. You mewled at the added pressure, arching your back further, pushing your ass back into his hips. He chuckled behind you, tucking his chin into your neck.

“There she is. There’s the sweet girl I know.”

“Just shut up and make me cum.”

“Yeah, yeah, quit whining. I’ve got ya.” His hips shifted forward before he pulled them back, thrusting back into you. You whined at the newfound pace, lowering yourself to your elbows so you could push yourself back into him easier. The friction on your clit felt wonderful, as well as the constant rubbing against your g-spot, your climax growing with each passing moment.

You hated to admit it, but you actually enjoyed having sex with Naoya. Obviously he was still the same asshole as before, but god damn it, he sure knew how to curl his hips to hit that delicious spot deep inside you. He had actually kept his promise the past month as well, avoiding any and all harsh words that he carelessly hurled at you in the past. Sometimes, in the throughs of your orgasm and blinding passion, you actually felt content with this whole stupid arrangement. That is, you were until Naoya opened his big fat mouth again.

“Gonna cum, princess? Hm? Gonna cream all over Daddy’s cock?” You made a disgusted sound.

“Oh Lord, don’t fucking—shit—c-call yourself that.”

“Aww, you don’t like it? But you clenched down on me and everything.” He nibbled at your ear, his free hand finding your breast and squeezing, tugging your hardened nipple. “I think your pretty pussy likes when I call myself ‘Daddy’. At least she doesn’t lie to me.”

“God, just—just shut—o-oh my God, I… I’m gonna c-cum—”

“Fuck, yeah you are. Gonna cum with ya, baby.” His finger quickened, rubbing back and forth incessantly, trying his best to make you cum first. “Say my name, fucking scream it. Let everybody know who’s making you feel this good.”

You liked his dirty talk the least out of all of this, but it still did the trick to push you over the edge. His words made your cunt throb, and soon enough you were cumming around him, his name coming out as a strangled moan. His groans only heightened your pleasure, and the resulting increase in his speed left you breathless, your mouth hanging open in a soundless scream as he pounded away at your fragile cunt. He didn’t last much longer: not even ten seconds later he was cumming himself, biting onto the back of your neck. You would have to scold him later for leaving a mark.

Despite just cumming, Naoya still managed to pump his cock into you languidly, riding out his high and extending yours. He pushed his cock as deep as it would go, wishing he could feel his cum seeping further into you instead of filling the condom he wore. He kept his hips flush against yours as the two of you caught your breath, his hands wandering over your frame, squeezing the plush of your breasts and sides.

It wasn’t long before he removed himself from you, sitting up and grabbing your hips, pulling out. He sighed, watching a glob of thick white lubrication drip out of you, biting back a groan. He allowed himself, for a moment, to imagine that it was his own cum instead, overflowing your tight cunt, unable to stay inside. He didn’t think about this for long—the last thing he wanted was for his cock to twitch back to life. Instead, he plopped down on the bed beside you with a loud exhale, rolling off his condom before tossing it in the trash.

He turned to you when you moaned softly, finally lowering your hips to the bed and stretching out. He let his eyes wander over your curves, the dip in your back and the swell of your ass. You pulled a pillow to your chest, cuddling it underneath you and relaxing with a loud sigh. He hated to admit it, but you looked pretty cute with your chubby cheek smushed against his pillow, your hair disheveled and skin glowing with sweat. You opened your eye just a bit, your gaze immediately falling on him. He felt his skin burn when you pulled your arm out from under you, reaching out to him and patting the bed. He swallowed hard, eyes darting over you.

“What?... You wanna cuddle or something?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes before pointing past him.

“Gimme my phone.” Naoya flushed, reaching for your phone on his nightstand.

“Use your words next time. Can’t read your mind.”

“Well, you should by this point.” The corner of his lip twitched as he brought his hands behind his head, clasping them together before lying back down. He stared at the ceiling, hearing the gentle thumping of your thumbs tapping against your phone. He wondered if he should grab his own phone, distract himself for a while before you eventually left him. Should he try to cuddle you anyways? It would be easy to wrap his arms around you and keep you snug against him until he was satisfied or had drifted off to sleep. It’s not like you would complain for that long: eventually you would just huff and let him do whatever he pleased as long as he didn’t interrupt whatever you were doing on your phone—

“Oi,” you grunted as you shuffled closer to him, resting your cheek against his chest. “I’m gonna take a shower before I go.” Naoya furrowed his brow.

“Why?”

“What do you mean ‘why’? I’m not waddling back home with pussy juice dripping down my legs.” He hummed, his arm wrapping around you, large hand resting against your back.

“Why not? I think it would be a good look for you.” You slapped his chest playfully, earning a chuckle as you pushed down the urge to smile. He wrapped his other arm around you once he settled down again, smirking knowingly at you. “You know what I think? I think you just wanna shower here because you like my expensive body wash.” You kept silent, tucking your face into his chest, trying to hide your suspicious look as he started laughing again. “I knew it—”

“To be fair,” you started, holding up your index finger, “it smells really good.”

“Ah, so you think I smell good.”

“Noo, I think your body wash smells good. Those are two totally different things.” The two of you were both snickering now, smiles bright and apparent. It was always like this during the afterglow of your hookups: regardless if either of you had an attitude before the encounter, it would dissipate during the event and leave the two of you as sweet as honey. You’d seen parts of Naoya after sex that you didn’t even know existed. In all honesty, it was refreshing. The more you learned, the less you hated him. Still didn't make him a good person, but he was much more tolerable now, even nice at times.

“Hmm, I guess I’ll let you shower, but only if I can join.” You groaned, rolling off of him and scooting towards the edge of the bed.

“You just wanna join so you can fuck me again.”

“And what’s so wrong with that?” he asked, following you to the bathroom, turning on the shower fan while you went to the faucet.

“I’ll let you join, but no funny business.”

“No funny business? None at all? What exactly does ‘funny business’ entail?” You felt his arms snake around your waist as you waited for the water to heat up, testing the temperature with your hand.

“It includes fucking, touching, groping—”

“I can’t even touch you?” he guffawed, pulling you tighter against him, pressing his cheek to your shoulder. “And here I was gonna offer to wash your back for you, be a real gentleman.” You snorted, letting out a howl of laughter.

“Please! You? A gentleman? Never gonna happen.” You stepped into the shower, presumably ending the conversation, but you kept the curtain open for him.

“Rude,” he replied, following after you. “I’m such a gentleman—”

“Mm-hm. Just not with me, right?”

“What’re you talkin about?” he cooed, watching you move under the stream, water trickling over your breasts. “I’m always a gentleman with you. I always get you nice and wet before I fuck you stupid.”

“Ooooh, okay, so a gentleman just does the basics to maintain a relationship. I get it now.” Naoya’s face flushed, heart skipping a beat as he stepped closer to you, meeting you under the shower head.

“Now who said we were in a relationship? You trynna tell me somethin, princess?” He hated how you rolled your eyes and turned your back to him, grabbing his loofah and body wash.

“Don’t get your hopes up. We have a sexual relationship, Naoya, nothing more.”

“You don’t gotta tell me twice,” he replied quickly, grabbing the loofah from you once it was covered in bubbles. “As if I’d ever want to be stuck with you.”

“Mm-hm. You gonna wash my back like you promised or what?”

He sighed, stepping towards you again. His eyes roamed your back as he brought the soap to your skin, rubbing it gently over your frame, pushing down the heavy feeling in his chest. He must just be thirsty. He couldn’t find any other explanation for the lump in his throat.

“What’re you smiling at?”

A hand clapped on Naoya’s back, causing him to lurch forward slightly. He glared at the man laughing beside him, turning off his phone when his second friend popped up beside them.

“Yeah, what’s got you so cheery lately? You finally find some poor girl to date you or somethin?”

“As if,” Naoya grumbled, shaking off the first guy and shoving his phone back in his pocket. “I’m not easy like you two. I don’t date just anyone.”

“Asshole,” the first man snickered, elbowing Naoya, making him shove he man back. “You can’t lie to us. You spent the entire class texting. It had to have been some cutie because ain’t no way in hell you’re texting a guy all day. What’s her name?”

“None of your business,” Naoya barked, kicking the door open and walking out of the building, the two men trailing behind as they made their way to the parking lot.

“So it is a girl!” exclaimed the second man, bouncing up to Naoya’s side. “Is she hot? I bet she is; your standards are too high. What’s she like in bed?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Naoya sneered, swallowing the venomous bile building in the back of his throat. “I don’t fuck and tell—”

The two other men laughed loudly, obnoxiously, clearly not believing Naoya’s statement. His face burned as he stomped ahead of them, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

“Oh my god, you do like her!”

“When did this happen? You always talk about the girls you have sex with!”

“She must be pretty special for you to keep secrets about her—”

“Alright, enough.” Naoya snarled, unlocking his car and opening the door, throwing his bookbag in the passenger’s seat. “Since all you two wanna do is bother me, I won’t bother driving you back to your dorms.”

“Aw, come on, man! We were just playin’—”

“Don’t care. I’m not gonna deal with yall harpin’ on me about stupid shit while I drive.” The second man sucked his teeth, kicking at the concrete.

“Maaan, don’t do me like that! It’s like a mile back to my room, I’m tired—”

“Oh yeah?” Naoya replied, opening the driver’s door and smirking at his friends. “Sucks for you. Maybe you should mind your business next time.” He dipped into his car, shutting the door behind him and locking it immediately. He heard one friend try to open the backseat as he buckled himself in, turning the key in the ignition as the other knocked on his window. Naoya rolled his window down, smirking as his friend leaned down against the frame.

“I just want you to know, the next time I see this car, I’m slashing your tires.” Naoya scoffed, patting his friend on the shoulder.

“If you do that, I’ll sue your ass.” The man rolled his eyes, standing back up and moving out of the way as Naoya backed out of his parking space. The three exchanged middle fingers as he drove away, rolling up his tinted window as he left the parking lot and drove off campus.

“Buncha assholes,” he grumbled, slouching in his seat and resting his cheek against his fist. “Don’t know shit.”

He thought back to the management class he just left, one that he didn’t bother paying attention to because he already knew all the material and didn’t see the point in relearning it. You had texted him out of the blue, asking if he was busy later. After a bit of teasing, he finally got you to admit that you were horny and didn’t want to take care of things yourself, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit elated that you came to him now whenever you were needy. At first it was just him approaching you, which he was fine with, but now that the two of you were nearing the end of ten weeks of this “friends with benefits” relationship, you had finally gotten comfortable going to him whenever you wanted sex. Took her long enough, he had thought the first time, but he couldn’t deny the fluttering that had developed in his chest whenever your contact popped up without warning.

What’s more is that it wasn’t even always for sex. Sometimes you texted to ask him a question, maybe offer something that you cooked and made too much of. He pretended like he was neutral towards your innocent advances, but he secretly loved when you made three dozen cookies and gave him a plastic bag filled to the brim. No girl had ever done that for him before: he wasn’t exactly “nice” to women, so he wasn’t used to random acts of kindness like that. It was always in exchange for something, whether it be money or gifts or improved social standing. It was never unprompted where nothing was asked for in return, so he didn’t know how to handle it when you started showing this softer side to him.

He tried convincing himself that it didn’t mean anything, that you were just being nice because it was in your nature—he knew that you took food to work as well, even gave some to other neighbors, so it’s not like he was exactly special—but he silently hoped that he meant more to you than your other coworkers or friends. Was that normal? Was it normal to want to be wanted? He wasn’t sure. He was used to people chasing him, but the thought of chasing someone else felt silly and beneath him. But when it came to you… Well, maybe he could push those feelings aside.

His mind wandered further as he parked outside his apartment and left his car, briefly wondering if you’d be a good girlfriend. He already knew you had a great pussy, so sex wouldn’t be a problem, but your attitude could ruin things. You weren’t as submissive outside of the bedroom, and you were a stubborn ass, so he doubted you would be willing to drop everything to be his stay-at-home wife. But who knows? Maybe if he fucked you hard enough, he could convince you to be a good girl and do what he asked of you.

“Well well well. I was wonderin’ when you’d show up.”

Naoya froze, looking up at the man who had spoken to him, his stomach dropping when he instantly recognized who it was.

“What’re you doing here?”

Toji chuckled, taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it on the ground, stomping it out with the toe of his boot. He was wearing the usual raggedy clothes he had—a fitted black t-shirt with paint-splattered camo pants—but he also had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, which was never a good sign.

“Good to see you too, man. How ya been? You weren’t answering your phone.”

“Yeah, that’s because I blocked you,” Naoya sneered, pulling out his wallet to get the keycard for his building.

“How rude. I expected better of you.”

“You never answered my question. Why are you here?”

“Chill out, dude. I’m just in town on business. Thought I’d visit ya.” Naoya scoffed as he unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Cool, well, it’s been a great visit but I have shit to do—"

The door stopped before it could close, causing Naoya to glare back at Toji who had blocked it with his large foot.

“You’re not gonna invite me up? Been waitin out here for almost half an hour. The least you could do is offer me some water or somethin.”

“The last time I let you into my apartment, you wouldn’t leave for two months—”

“And who says I’m here to stay? I told you, I’m visiting.” Naoya sneered, tugging on the door again just to find that it wouldn’t budge.

“I don’t trust you.” Toji hummed, eyes narrowing menacingly.

“I wonder how uncle Naobito would react to hearing about how his favorite son has lost all his manners.” Naoya tensed, eyes widening slightly before his brow furrowed, searching his face. Toji had a good three inches on Naoya—something he always gloated about once Naoya was out of high school—so he was quite the intimidating figure. That, and the threat of his cousin snitching to his dad about his behavior, made Naoya huff angrily and let go of the door, turning quickly.

“You’ve got twenty minutes; then I want you gone.” Toji snickered, following Naoya up the stairs.

“I was actually gonna talk to you about that—”

“You’re not staying—”

“I was gonna offer some money.”

Naoya paused on the second floor, glancing back at his cousin who was smirking up at him on the stairs, his scar so apparent that it ruined his smile.

“…How much?” Toji shrugged.

“I was thinking ‘bout ten percent of what I earn while I’m here.” Naoya’s eye’s narrowed.

“Fifty percent.”

“Fifteen—”

“Thirty—”

“Twenty-five, and—” Toji walked up a few steps so he was level with Naoya, “I get to eat your food without you complaining.” Naoya tapped his finger against the railing, glancing to the side before looking back at him.

“For how long?” Toji shrugged again.

“No longer than two weeks. Probably closer to one.”

“Cash?”

“Cash.”

“Alright,” Naoya agreed, holding out his hand and letting Toji shake it, “but if you stay longer than two weeks, I’m bumping it up to thirty.”

“Deal.” Toji pat his shoulder roughly, continuing up the stairs. “Now hurry up and show me this fancy apartment of yours. I got tools in this bag; I wanna put it down.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Naoya grumbled, hurrying past him and up the stairs. “Just don’t touch anything—”

He froze once he reached his floor, eyes locked on you. You were leaning against the wall by his apartment, fiddling with your phone, a small box resting underneath your arm. Shit, he’d completely forgotten about you once he saw Toji. How was he going to explain—

“Hey,” Toji mumbled, nudging his cousin as he reached the same floor. “This your floor or not?”

“Uh… yeah… it is.”

“Well, then, let’s go.”

You checked your messages one more time, frowning when you saw that Naoya hadn’t even read your message. Did he stay behind and just forget to text you? Was he stuck in traffic? You hadn’t been waiting long, but you were too proud to stand outside a man’s door for longer than five minutes—

“Can I help you?” You looked up, your lip twitching when you saw Naoya approaching you, but your mouth soon turned downward when you saw the look on his face. Did something happen on the way home? Had someone cut him off?

“Uh, I—”

“Who’s this?” came a deep voice behind him. You looked past Naoya, eyes widening when you saw the large, towering figure come forward. Your eyes traveled from his dark hair and eyes to his broad chest, muscles bulging so much that you wondered how his shirt stayed intact. You forced yourself not to look too far down, fearing that you’d be able to see something large and thick pressing against his pants and that you wouldn’t be able to peel your eyes away. You looked back at his face, biting your lip when you saw the hungry smirk he gave you. “You Naoya’s girlfriend or something?”

“Hell no,” Naoya huffed, digging in his pockets for his keys. “She’s my annoying neighbor.” You blinked, clearly shrinking in on yourself as you processed the disgusted tone he had just used. You cleared your throat, turning back to the larger man.

“I’m sorry, um… wh-who are you?” His smirk grew as he outstretched his hand to you. Your eyes almost doubled in size when you saw how large his hand was. It could’ve easily covered your entire face.

“I’m Toji, Naoya’s older cousin. I doubt you’ve heard of me. What’s your name, gorgeous?” You shook your head slightly in shock, stopping yourself from imagining how those hands would feel on your body. You coughed slightly as you took his hand, giving a nervous smile as he shook your hand firmly.

“Um, m-my name's Y/N.”

“Y/N. Pretty,” he said with a suave smile. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” You felt your heart flutter as you giggled shyly, but that feeling disappeared when Naoya scoffed, finally unlocking the door. You stared at his back as he walked inside, your heart sinking so low that you felt sick. Toji hummed beside you, moving into your line of sight and leaning against the doorframe. “Anything we can help you with, Miss Y/N?”

“Um…” You took a step back, looking down at the box you were holding, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse that wouldn’t make you look like a fool. “I… I made brownies, but I ended up with too many… I was gonna try and be nice and offer some to my neighbors… but clearly someone doesn’t want any because I’m annoying so I’ll just go ask—”

“Can I have one?” You paused, glancing up at him anxiously.

“Uhh… sure! Of course.” You removed the plastic lid on the box, holding it out in front of you so Toji could grab one. The brownie he picked looked small in his hand, and the bite he took got rid of almost half the baked good already. He furrowed his brow as he chewed, nodding and giving a soft moan.

“Hot damn… that’s fucking good.” He took another bite, the brownie almost gone. “You made this yourself? Like all of it was homemade?” You nodded eagerly, smiling when he whistled low and finished off the brownie.

“Holy shit, that’s incredible. That’s fucking awesome. The chocolate chips are a nice touch.” Your cheeks burned when he made eye contact with you, not breaking it as he licked the leftover chocolate off his fingers. You looked down, biting your lip to try and hide your smile.

“Well, thank you. That’s nice of you to say.”

“It’s the truth, sweetheart. I’d kill for another one of those.”

“Really?” Naoya heard you ask excitedly as he returned to the door. He scowled as he glanced past Toji to get a peek at you, his stomach twisting uncomfortably when he saw how gleeful you looked up at him. You’d never given Naoya that look before, and it just made him angrier to see it directed at his useless older cousin.

“Hell yeah. Haven’t had good home cooking like that in a long time. Miss it.”

“Oh, well… you can have the rest if you want.” Naoya bit his cheek to stifle his anger, fingers digging into his biceps.

“Oh shit, really? You don’t mind?”

“No, not at all! Like I said, I made plenty, so…”

“Well, what kind of man would I be if I rejected a pretty lady’s homemade food?” Naoya scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“Have fun fattening yourself up into a pig like her—ow!” Naoya rubbed his arm where Toji had punched him, glaring at him but immediately shrinking under the bigger man’s gaze.

“Shut your mouth. Be useful and take my bag inside,” he scolded, slipping the duffel bag off his shoulder and handing it to Naoya. He frowned but took the bag regardless, stifling a grunt when it almost weighed him down to the floor. He cursed himself for letting his cousin treat him like a servant as he took the bag into the living room, continuing to listen in on Toji’s conversation with you. “Sorry about him. He’s a real ass sometimes.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it by now.”

“Poor thing. Must be a nightmare living next to him.” Naoya glowered when he heard your giggle ring like windchimes.

“It is what it is. I’ll live.”

“Well, hopefully he doesn’t bother you too much. Anyways, is there any way I can repay you for the brownies? I’m a bit of a handyman, to be honest. If you’ve got a leaky faucet, a squeaky chair, any holes that need to be filled, I’m your guy.” Naoya curled his hands into fists, glaring down at the couch as he set Toji’s ridiculously heavy bag down. Those brownies were supposed to be for him, and now Toji was getting them as well as flirting up a storm with you. It made Naoya see red… but he didn’t know why. It’s not like the two of you were dating, and it’s not like you were particularly special in any way, so why was he so mad at this situation?

“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t have any problems with my apartment right now.”

“Hm. Well, lemme give you my number just in case. That way, if anything happens while I’m in town, I’ll fix it up for free. How’s that sound?”

“Oh, well, thank you! That’s very kind of you. Here…” Naoya heard the faint sound of thumbs tapping away at a phone screen as he returned to the front door.

“There. Don’t hesitate to text me if you need anything, anything at all.”

“Sure, of course.” Naoya’s heart began to race when you gazed past Toji to look at him, your sweet smile faltering slightly. You cleared your throat, glancing downward before looking back at Toji. “Well, it was nice to meet you but I have to go. I got some chores to do.”

“Sure, sweetheart. It was a pleasure to meet you, and…” Toji brought his hand up to you, cupping your chin and tilting your head up so you were looking right at him. He leaned down just a bit, lowering his voice, causing Naoya to struggle to hear him continue, “promise me you’ll text me if you need anything.” Naoya saw how you bat your eyelashes and swallowed, nodding as best you could.

“I-I promise.” Toji let out a soft laugh, bringing his hand to your cheek and giving it a gentle pat.

“Good girl. You have a good day, okay?”

“M-Mm-hm!” Toji let go of you and you stepped back clearly flustered as you gave a small wave. “Bye,” you said softly, turning quickly and flittering away. Toji leaned out the doorway to watch you, eyes trailing your form as he smirked slightly.

“Take a picture,” Naoya snarled, his anger clearly evident in his tone. “It’ll last longer.”

“She’s cute,” Toji replied, ignoring Naoya’s snarky remark.

“She’s a slut.”

“Hmm… how would you know?” Toji asked, sending Naoya a questioning stare, silently challenging him to admit to everything he’d been doing with you over the past three months. Naoya just crossed his arms, turning away and praying his cousin couldn’t see how flushed he was. Toji scoffed, moving into the apartment and shutting the door behind him.

“Here,” Toji mumbled, holding up a brownie for Naoya to take. He smiled when his younger cousin took it after a moment of hesitation, ruffling his hair and walking away before Naoya could hit him. “Have a pity brownie, since you’re clearly pining for the girl next door.”

“Am not,” he barked after Toji, pouting a bit when the man brushed him off, placing the brownies on the couch and walking off to the bathroom. Naoya glared at his back till he was gone, sighing and looking down at the dessert you had made that was supposed to be for him in the first place. He inspected it for a moment, examining the cakey treat before he brought it gingerly to his lips and took a bite.

“Damn it,” he mumbled as he chewed slowly, savoring the fudginess and dark chocolate flavor. It was a bit sweet for his taste, but he could’ve easily eaten five more in one sitting. The chocolate chips were a nice touch, just like Toji said.

As he swallowed his first bite and took another, Naoya wished he could’ve told you that himself.

[shotorozu]

you like their hands

character(s) : shinsou hitoshi, kirishima eijirou, monoma neito (2/?)

legend : [Y/N = your name] they/them pronouns, quirk left unmentioned

post type : headcanons + small scenario [fluff, the mildest of spice] not even nsfw

note(s) : i was gonna put denki in this but i had a hard time thinking about what kinda hands he’d have, so i’m putting him in the next post

»»————-　♡　————-««

shinsou hitoshi

his hands are big, and his fingers are quite thick.

really likes wearing rings and bracelets, but he usually doesn’t wear them when he’s working (i’d say that bc wearing jewelry while doing physical activity HURTS)

regarding texture, his hands were initially soft— but due to transferring in the hero course, they roughened up over time

he’ll use hand cream if you want, but he doesn’t go the extra mile. and his nails are trimmed at all times. painting his nails a black color would be great once in a while.

lol i forgot to mention nails in the last post

he notices right away that you like his hands when he catches you staring at them when he’s cracking his knuckles

like.. people have said that his hands are nice, but he doesn’t really say much about them bc they’re not you

scenario

a crack sound is briefly heard in the rather silent room. the scrolling on your phone halts, and your eyes follow the sound of the crack.

ah, he’s cracking his knuckles. you think to yourself, and you’re left just simply admiring the way he applies pressure on a knuckle. who knew that his rather— large hand would look appealing, even while cracking his knuckles.

you snap out of your observation, but instead of just simply going back to whatever you were doing, you’re met with lilac eyes. “you were staring again.”

your cheeks heat up, and you opt to just turn your head to the opposite direction. “sorry,” you apologize. however— that’s not what hitoshi was looking for apparantly.

“if you like my hands alot,” he scoots next to you, hands sliding up and down your arms— his firm grip practically making the pre existing butterflies in your stomach act up again. “then you should’ve said so, kitty.”

is he conscious of his actions? hm. you could say that

he’ll purposely play with his capture tool right in front of you— the material wrapping around his hand. and he can only laugh when you immediately get absorbed into it

the back of his hand will brush against your cheek. then, when he comes in to kiss you, he’ll cup your cheek— kissing you with his other hand resting at your nape

under the table, his hand will start to slide against yours, interlocking hands with you. he’ll act like nothing is happening, but on the inside— he’s taking in your reaction

a little spicy, but when he wants you to look at him— he’ll do that thing where his thumb brushed against your bottom lip, as it almost dips right into your mouth

if he feels a little extra, his hand will also be tugging on your hair (if you’re fine with that. otherwise, he’s sticking to the one above)

oh and he also does that thing where he rests his hand on your neck, thick fingers squeezing your throat lightly.

overall— THIS MAN omg, he’ll entertain your interest in his hand nicely, just for you. and every single thing he does is memorable

kirishima eijirou

his hands are quite normal regarding size, they are almost always veiny, a lot more than bakugou’s actually. i think at some point he was concerned about them

his hands are rather flushed in color, but that’s because of his quirk. his fingers have a few tiny scars here and there,

he occasionally has pen marks on his wrists due to bad penmanship, and his nails.. don’t look the best, but they’re not the worst it’s bc of his quirk

the palms of his hands are ridden with callouses. but he wears them with pride because it’s the pure evidence of his hard work with his training.

but he starts to get worried about them when he goes to hold your hand.

you always had a thing for kirishima’s hands, but you just never had the chance to tell him that. i guess asking you did it for him

scenario

did you even realize how hard you were staring at his hands right now? it happened every single time he enlaced his arms around you, his hands resting at the sides of your arms

at first, he thought it might’ve been because his hands are too rough, or you might’ve been in discomfort— because maybe, just maybe, he accidentally activated his quirk?

the fact that he can’t exactly tell what it is worried him, maybe he should just ask you.

but his worry washed off when you told him upfront that you ‘liked his hands’

“wait so.. you’re staring at my hands because you like them?” kirishima wants to confirm your words, and— so casually, by the way— nod in agreement.

tracing the veins on his hands, you elaborate “your hands are really nice, i can tell how hard you must’ve worked.” pressing your smaller hand against his, you smile.

eijirou takes a moment to process it, but it’s surprisingly quick. “oh t-thanks!” he sheepishly took the compliment, a small blush sporting on his cheeks. “i’m glad it wasn’t because you thought they were weird.”

kirishima unintentionally feeds your interest with his hands. like sometimes.. he’s just not aware of it, but yes— he is feeding your interest well

will always make you compare hand sizes with him, chuckling softly at the dazed look on your face when your palms touch

if you allow him, he’ll fix your hair for you. doesn’t matter what hair type you have, he’ll do LOTS of research to know how to style it

those hands are magical

if you get a papercut, or a wound from cooking— he’ll patch you up, then he’ll press a kiss on the bandaid.

he’ll do this thing where he’ll squeeze your sides when you pull in for a hug. but if you’re not okay with that, he’ll opt to just rubbing your back with his hand— rocking you softly as he hugs you

a little spicy, but his hands do wander a lot. you might need to even hold them in place to make sure they don’t go too wild

in addition to that, he’ll just SLIGHTLY, activate his quirk to make sure you’re conscious of his touch. his finger tips gliding against your back, sending shivers down your spine.

but of course, he’s careful. he doesn’t activate it to the point it causes scratch marks, nor will his actions draw blood. he doesn’t wanna do that

in short— kirishima’s a little clueless at first. he wouldn’t really tease you in public, but he’s surprisingly attentive to your interest.

monoma neito

his hands are on the tipping edge of slightly above average. he doesn’t have a lot of veins on his hands, but they do pop out depending on what quirk he’s using

monoma’s hands are pretty spotless of any scars (from cuts, abrasions, etc.) because he gets REALLY annoyed with wounds pretty easily

to the point he’d want to attend to the wound immediately, he doesn’t let them sit— it’s just a personal preference

his nails are at the perfect length. not too long and not too short to the point it hurts, you don’t know how he does it.

wears watches on his wrists, and not the digital type— he sorta acts like he can read it easily, but it takes him a few seconds to even get to know the time

you know this because kendo snitched on him and told you LOL

you secretly hate yourself for this, but you really like his hands because of how he takes care of them. you’d never tell monoma even though you’re dating him

scenario

you’re unsure of yourself on how your boyfriend— monoma, found out about your fascination with his hands. it was supposed to be a secret for the rest of your life, and you only remember talking about it once out loud

which you assumed was a close call, considering that you thought he didn’t hear it at all— but he did.

“so i heard you like my hands, huh Y/N?” monoma’s teasing tone does not aid the situation. your cheeks heat up with embarassment, and you can’t get yourself to answer his question— without sounding like a fool anyway.

you fake annoyance, “where’d that come from?” you ask, and monoma doesn’t seem to want to switch the topic

“i’m asking you a question, dear Y/N— i heard you like my hands,” his tone would’ve sounded condescending to any other person, but you can tell that he’s either genuinely curious

or just teasing you, because that’s how he is.

to aid his question, he brushes his fingers along your neck— near your pulse. you jolt, stunned by the sudden action— heart beating rapidly against your chest.

“see,” monoma presses his hand against your chest, where your heart is palpitating, grinning in a way that’s teasing you “it’s true, isn’t it? sweet Y/N has a thing for my hands, hm?”

you furrow your eyebrows, and flick his forehead— and he hisses in reaction, “fine then, i do like your hands.” you finally give in, admitting final defeat.

ever since then, you haven’t heard the end of it

definitely that person that’ll just randomly bring it up to you, no matter what hour of the day it is.

“oh Y/N, you were totally fawning over my hands earlier—”

“i will castrate you.”

you know he means well most of the time, but sometimes he just loves teasing the heck out of you.

but that doesn’t mean he neglects your obvious interest in his hands.

he’ll compliment you, he’s a snarky person in general— but to you, he’s totally smooth with it.

slides his hand from your forearm to your hands, only to bring them up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your hand

squeezes your hand everytime he sees you, it’s kind of a nonverbal greeting at this point

similar to kirishima, he likes comparing hand sizes— teasing you about the size difference (even if it’s not even a big of a difference, he’ll take that chance.)

does this thing where he rubs his thumb against his palm. does it a lot when he’s concentrated about something, or just out of the blue

a little spicy, but he’ll make you tell him what you like about his hands, and what you like about the things he does with those hands of his. if that makes sense

he wants all of the details, doesn’t care if it’s mundane, or things he does when he’s feeling a certain way.

he wants to know, because as soon as you’re done with your spewl, he’ll do exactly what you like, teasing you while he’s at it. and so he can start incorporating those habits whenever he’s around you.

totally someone that’ll make you suck on those fingers. oh, but he’ll purposely get some dessert on them— asking you to suck them off

“good grief, i got some dessert on my fingers again. Y/N, come suck them off”

sometimes he’s serious, sometimes he’s just teasing.

overall— it’s pretty adventurous. he starts to act on it as soon as the revelation is revealed to him.

but i’d say he does just fine.

»»————-　♡　————-««

likes and reblogs are appreciated, thanks for reading!

i do not own bnha/mha and it’s characters. boku no hero academia/my hero academia belongs to horikoshi kohei. i only own the writing, and i do not profit off of my hobby

do not plagiarize, translate, repost, or use my work for audio readings without my consent :))

[realcube]

saying things they don’t mean during an argument

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thank you to anon for this request <3

characters ♡ msby black jackals (hinata, sakusa, atsumu, bokuto)

content warning ♡ angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, swearing, crying, adoption  (sakusa’s) & suffocation (?)

kōtarō bokuto 

♡ you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest - you knew he was a bit boyish sometimes but you never expected him to be so childish in regards to a simple request

♡ ‘bokuto, i have so much on my plate!’ you cried, tightly gripping the sheets underneath you, ‘planning the wedding, going to work, doing almost every chore in this damn house and filing all our fucking taxes!’

♡ you momentarily paused to look at him, expecting a look of sympathy but instead getting an eyeroll which prompted you to continue, ‘and all i am asking for is you to run a few errands! that’s it! why are you so opposed? i thought you enjoyed grocery shopping?!’

♡ bokuto pulled his night-shirt over his head as he stormed to his side of the bed, ‘it’s not fun without you!’  he whined childishly, plopping himself down next to you and gasping when you had the audacity to shuffle away from him

♡ ‘it’s not supposed to be fun, bokuto!’ you yelled, completely fed-up with him at this point, ‘a few errands, that’s all i ask of you!’

♡ bokuto notices how your voice shook and your lashline glistened; he didn’t want you to cry so he begrudgingly gave it, but with a strong comment to go along with it so you knew that he really didn’t want to 

♡ 'fine! i don't need you anyway!'

♡ then proceeded to dramatically pull the duvet over himself and pout, averting his gaze to the wall opposite 

♡ in this context, he hoped that you’d understand his comment and not take him too seriously but since you were already on the verge of tears, this simply pushed you over the edge

♡ you buried your face in your hands and hid under the blanket in hopes he didn’t realise you were crying but his senses are just different when it comes to you so try stifle that sob all you want, he’s still going to hear it and he’s still going to instantly pull you into his arms while frantically apologising 

♡ ‘please don’t cry, (y/n)! i really didn’t mean it- i do need you! i love you so much, my life wouldn’t be the same without you! you do so much for me and i am so sorry for not showing you how grateful i am! like you’re so pretty and kind and talented and smart - only geniuses can do taxes - so i’m just so lucky to be with you and i can’t wait until we’re married. please, don’t leave!’

♡ eventually his praise slowly became pleas as he begged for you not to leave/hate him

♡ he does not want to lose you bc of a silly comment he made-

♡ eventually his endless pleas started to become more than background noise to your sobs, so you finally hugged him back, whispering, ‘i can’t wait to marry you too, kō.’

♡ this action lifted a massive weight off his chest and he let out an audible sigh of relief, his grip on you loosening, ‘mhm, and of course, i’ll run the errands, babe. i suppose, it’s the least i could do.’

♡ you hummed in agreement, glad that a part of your mental stress had been relieved, allowing you to finally relax in his arms and perhaps doze off in his loving embrace 

♡ ...

♡ ‘mm, you smell like marshmallows, (y/n)- can i add marshmallows to the shopping list?��

kiyoomi sakusa

♡ he spoke as if you were making some crazy, otherworldly request but in reality, all you were asking was for him to take paternity leave to help you care for the baby 

♡ you’re not really a baby-expert so you thought that sakusa would be happy to stay home and learn how to care for the child with you - as a couple, as a team 

♡ but he was extremely opposed to the idea, spewing out a much of nonsense as to why he needs to go to work, but a part of believed that he just didn’t want to deal with his child - or maybe, he didn’t want to deal with you

♡ ‘sakusa, how do you expect me to raise a whole baby on my own! they need a lot of attention - i don’t think you understand how big of a commitment this is, you can’t treat it like a hobby!’ you cried, having long before burst into tears because your mind told you the worse - that he didn’t actually love you, he lied about wanting a kid, he lied when he said ‘i do’.

♡ usually during arguments when he notices that you’ve started to cry, he’ll drop everything he was doing to shuffle over to you and wrap you in arms, then whisper sweet-nothings into your ear until you feel better but today, he showed little consideration to your emotions as he continued pacing through the living room while you bawled your eyes out on the couch

♡ ‘i thought you loved (c/n)! you were so gentle around them but it turns out you’re not even willing to take a paternity leave to help take care of them!’

♡ ‘what happened to the man i married?’

♡ ‘kiyoomi, you need to revaluate yourse--’

♡ you wouldn’t allow him to get a word in, which was probably for the best considering he had nothing good to say 

♡ but you were forced to cut yourself off when heard the sound of shattering so you immediately search for the source of the noise and there stood sakusa, his hand resting on the decorative table in the place your framed wedding photo once was - now, it was laying smashed on the ground surrounded by it’s own glass shards

♡ he pushed it off like the petty bastard he was

♡ while you sat stunned, staring the mess he just voluntarily made, he quickly turned on his heel and strolled away at a leisurely pace, 'my life was a lot easier before you entered it.'

♡ that was the last you heard of it for the next three days - you were giving each other the silent treatment 

♡ you couldn’t have any sort of grain for three whole days bc they are all on the top shelf and you usually make him grab it for you but you refused to talk to him- 

♡ you were the first one to break it though as you noticed that he hadn’t went to work for the last three days and curiosity got the better of you 

♡ ‘kiyoomi.’ you called out to him from the kitchen but he didn’t even look up from his book - ‘parenting for dummies’ - causing you to scoff, ‘why aren’t you going to work? did something happen?’

♡ finally, he sighed and shifted his gaze off his book but only to shoot you demeaning look, as if you were stupid, ‘paternity leave, duh.’

♡ the corners of your lips twitched into a smile, which you quickly forced away when you recalled the events that occurred three days ago and the hurtful things he said, instinctively looking over at the decorative table to remind yourself of what he did 

♡ but to your surprise, the picture was no longer laying on the ground, pooling in shards of glass but rather, it sit on the table with a brand new frame - which had both of your initials engraved onto it along with the date of the ceremony

♡ you didn’t need to choke out an inquiry as sakusa noticed your stunned expression and answered on his own, ‘i bought a new frame. i hope you like it.’

♡ of course you liked it; this one was a chic black with silver decals which matched your living room aesthetic way better than the other, tacky blue one did - plus, this one was customised which made you love it even more

♡ ‘i do. i really do. but i don’t like your attitude lately.’ you muttered, shaking your head as you waddled over to the couch 

♡ sakusa was quick to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you down next to him, ‘i’m sorry, love.’ his voice cracked slightly as he whispered in your ear, ‘i cannot put into words how much harder my life would be without you. i just..hope you understand.’

♡ it’s not that sakusa was bad with words; he was just too emotional and overwhelmed to produce a long, coherent sentiment for you so he just prayed that you recognized that everything he said on that day was meaningless

♡ ‘i love you, (y/n).’

atsumu miya

♡ you rolled your eyes, ignoring him and continuing to type your essay until atsumu slammed your laptop closed

♡ ‘please, (y/n)! you know how much this means to me! i’ve been waiting for this festival for years!’

♡ you scoffed, folding your arms and patiently waiting for him to move his filthy hand off your laptop, ‘i do and i’m proud of you. but i have a lecture that day and my exams are just around the corner - and you know how much my education means to me.’

♡ atsumu had to take a moment to suppress a gag at how sickening and condescending your tone was, ‘it’s just one lecture, (y/n)! you’re not going to fail your exams because you missed one lectu--’

♡ ‘you don’t know that.’

♡ atsumu blinked twice, a unimpressed expression painted on his face as he let out a sigh, realising there was no possible way he’s going to be able to get through to you - i mean, he’s been trying for the last 20 minutes to no avail

♡ he ran his hand through his hairs, turning on his heel, heading towards the door and left

♡ but not before peering over his shoulder to shoot you a nasty glare and spitting, ‘you’re so selfish. you can’t even do one thing that’d make me happy - you never can.’

♡ that was the final thing he said to you for the next....20 minutes 

♡ that’s actually a new record for him - usually he storms out of the room, sulks for a minute or two then renters to beg for your forgiveness 

♡ but not today. he was so mad that he needed 20 whole minutes to cool down and come to his senses

♡ but once he did, when he came back into the room, he expected to see you typing your essay or studying as usual since his words don’t usually effect you too much 

♡ so of course he was shocked when he slipped back into your shared bedroom to see you with the duvet tossed over your whole figure, faint sobs coming from underneath 

♡ his immediate reaction was to pull the blanket away and offer himself as your source of heat, so he wrapped you in his muscular embrace, ‘b-babe.’ he stuttered, eyes-wide as he never would’ve thought you’d take his words seriously, ‘are you okay?’

♡ he knew that was a stupid question but he simply asked it to determine how sad you were - and considering you weren’t able to babble out a reply, that wasn’t a good sign

♡ ‘you’re not selfish.’ he reassured you while rubbing circles on your back, ‘if anything, i was being selfish- and nothing makes me as happy as you do, (y/n). i- i really didn’t mean it.’

♡ he paused only to place a kiss on the top of your head, ‘i love you- and to show you how much i love you..i’ll drop you off at your lecture on that day, and take you to the festival afterwards; does that sound good?’

♡ you were finally able to choke out a response but only to explain how unachievable his idea was, ‘my lecture finishes at 5 and the festival ends at 7, and there is a 45 minute drive between the two- you’re only going to be able to spend a little over an hour there.’

♡ ‘and i’ll have a blast in that time!’

♡ you sighed, your lips twitching into a small smile as you buried your face into his chest as you really couldn’t look him in the eye, ‘and why can’t you just go without me again?’ 

♡ ‘who the fuck am i going to play dance dance revolution against if you don’t come?’

shōyo hinata 

♡ you crossed your arms over your chest, internally regretting ever opening your mouth to try calm down fiancé as now, not only is he even more angry, but also most of his anger with now directed at you rather than manager, like it was previously 

♡ eventually, you started to develop a headache from all his screaming and shouting so you politely asked him to calm down, to which he replied, ‘calm down?! you’re the one who made me mad with your rude-ass comment and now you’re telling me to calm down?!’

♡ you preferred it when he was demanding for you to say ‘butt’ instead of ‘ass’ because now that’s he spent more time with bokuto, he’s started swearing more often and to be honest, it’s scary when a 5″4 ginger sunshine is yelling at you, calling you a ‘rude-ass’

♡ ‘shōyō, if i’m completely honest, i have no idea why what i said was so mean and i have no idea what’s going on- why are you so mad at your manager?’

♡ suddenly, he twisted his neck to look at you as if you had just been possessed, ‘what?’ he inquired in a hushed tone, his voice hoarse and oddly sinister  

♡ you quirked a brow, too tired of his constant bitching to pay attention to his tone of voice, ‘yeah, you speak too fast, shōyō.’ you said with a shrug, checking your nails to ensure that he knew that you truly did not care about how he scowled at you, ‘plus, i just don’t understand why this gets you so worked up - i try, i really do, but i guess your volleyball problems just go over my head.’

♡ hinata clenched his fist, realising that he wasn’t going to make any progress by complaining to you. he whipped his head away before storming off, not even sparing you a final glance, ‘you just don’t get it; you don’t understand anything i say and you don’t even make a fucking effort! you just think you are so much better than everyone - well, you’re not! try coming back down to reality with the rest of us, and then we can talk.’

♡ followed by a slam of the door which rattled through the whole apartment

♡ you really had never seen hinata so angry before in your 6 years of being together 

♡ the words he said were far from pleasant and a part of you wondered in he genuinely meant them, perhaps he had been supressing those thoughts for ages and now that he was finally mad, he could let it all out

♡ though you tried to reassure yourself that everyone says things they don’t mean when they are angry, but the tears started flowing on their own

♡ hinata didn’t plan on seeing you for another few hours as he had the idea of heading over to bokuto’s, have a drink and cool down but when he hopped out the shower, he realised he had left his phone in the bedroom - where he left you. 

♡ begrudgingly, he slid into the room with the intention of grabbing his phone then leaving but that went to shit when he noticed that you were bundled up under the blankets, and he could hear distant sniffles coming from underneath

♡ and hinata only has four moods: mad asf, happy asf, loving you & volleyball...asf

♡ so upon seeing you in such a state, presumably because of what he said, elicited his mood to change from ‘mad asf’ to ‘loving you’ 

♡ he pounced on you, causing you to fall sideways and squeal but he simply did not give a fuck

♡ ‘baby! i am so sorry! i didn’t think what i said would make you cry!’ he blubbered, or at least, that’s what it sounded like since you couldn’t actually see him due to the fact he had trapped you under the blankets, ‘i don’t know why i even said that! you’re not like that at all- i don’t think of you like that!’

♡ he paid little regard for your pleas of mercy as you squirmed frantically under the blanket, trying to escape his grip and body weight. he simply continued babbling on about how sorry he was and how amazing you are, ‘you are down here with the rest of us - i just said for no reason. please don’t be mad! you are - what does bokuto call it again? - oh! a humble--’

♡ ‘shōyō! i’ll forgive you if you get off me right now - i can hardly breathe!’

[dameronology]

the one with all the yelling {obi-wan x reader}

summary: after making a stupid decision in battle and having an argument with your best friend, a confession slips out that surprises both of you (or maybe it doesn’t)

this is a reupload bc i took it down for editing. as usual, this has lots of swearing in, just a pre-warning. enjoy!!

- jazz

They say that time slows down when you’re about to die - that your life flashes before your very eyes. You’re supposed to see the thing you love most, the people you value most. It was meant to be a final moment filled with a lifetime of emotions, of memories; regrets and mistakes; unfulfilled wishes and incomplete to do lists. The way it was described was hauntingly poetic, the sort of thing almost made you want to to experience it just so that you could understand what it felt like.

And, having witnessed a near-death experience in recent hours, you could safely conclude that everything in the aforementioned paragraph was a steaming pile of horse shit.

There was nothing graceful or cinematic about the way you had yeeted yourself across the battle-field, mud unceremoniously flying up around your ass as you kicked Obi-Wan Kenobi out of the line of fire. The blaster fire was inches away from your face - mere inches - and that, of all things, was when you figured the final moments might have come.

Instead, all you got was a hit to the shoulder and a mouth full of dirt. You were very much alive - but after coughing up an unflattering amount of earth and clambering back to your feet with all the grace of a beached whale, the same could not be said for your dignity.

At the forefront of things, you’d been trying to save your best friend’s life. That was all you could think about when you’d launched yourself discourteously towards Obi-Wan; he couldn’t die. Too many people - yourself included - needed him. And, you were certain that if you hadn’t been killed saving his ass, the sudden lack of reason from his presence in your life would have killed you anyways. The man stopped you from walking into traffic on the daily.

You weren’t entirely sure what to say to Obi-Wan. You were sitting on the end of his bed, fresh out of the shower and bundled up in an oversized tunic that belonged to the man pacing in front of you. For a man of many words, he was disturbingly quiet as he stitched you up and even more so when he helped you undress and get into the shower.

What sort of thing were you supposed to say in this situation? Sorry that I booted you up the arse and sent you flying six foot through the air? I had your best interests at heart, I promise.

‘Personally, I am rather pleased with the fact I am still alive.’ You broke the icy silence that had befallen you. Obi-Wan immediately stopped in his pacing tracks, head turning to face you with a bewildered look. Maybe that wasn’t the best conversation opener.

‘How could you…’ Obi-Wan went to say something but his words were lost. He’d witnessed you do a lot of stupid things but this one took the cake. This was stupid thing to end all stupid things. ‘Why would you - actually, I don’t even know what to say.’

‘I mean a thank you would probably suffice.’ You muttered. ‘I did just take a bullet for you.’

‘How could you have been so stupid?!’ He snapped. ‘You could have died!’

‘I was trying to save you!’ You reminded him.

Right. There was that - the alarmingly obvious thing that he’d been trying not to think about.

Obi-Wan couldn’t deny his feelings for you; you’d always been his slightly kooky best friend but maker, he adored you. Life as a Jedi could be dark but you were his nightlight - a soft glow to guide him to brighter things, to remind him that not all was lost.

He’d spent hours convincing himself that you didn’t feel the same. You were too busy running around with what Obi-Wan was certain was a singular brain cell, getting yourself into trouble and making questionable decisions. But, now that you’d quite literally thrown yourself into the line of fire for him? It was certainly a compelling piece of evidence to the contrary.

(Of course, you loved him too. You’d been in love with him since the day you’d met. That was a minor detail you’d chosen not to mention to him - avoiding the truth wasn’t the same as lying, right?)

‘I don’t need saving.’ Obi-Wan said.

‘Oh, please.’ You snorted. ‘You might be Jedi Master Kenobi of the High Jedi Council, Best Jedi To Ever Jedi and Regular Shagger of the Jedi Code-’

‘- you used the word Jedi a few too many times there-’

‘- but you are not bulletproof!’

‘Neither are you!’

‘But I’m alive, aren’t I?’ Your tone was suddenly soft. ‘I’m in one piece.’

‘Barely.’ He murmured. ‘You can’t do things like that.’

‘Well, I did.’ You would have raised your voice louder had your shoulder not been screaming in pain. ‘And stomping around like a pissy toddler isn’t going to change it.’

The most terrifying part - for both of you, truthfully speaking - was how quickly you had done it. You hadn’t even thought about it; you saw red and you launched yourself into the blaster’s path without even considering the consequences. The most important thing to you in that moment had been that Obi-Wan’s life was at risk and it had led to a sudden disregard for your own.

‘I’ll get better.’ You continued. ‘I’m only signed off for a few weeks and as soon as I’m on the mend I will be back in the field. It’ll be like nothing ever happened-’

‘- but it did happen.’ Obi-Wan cut you off. ‘I’m always going to remember that you risked your life for me without even having to think about it.’

Grabbing onto the poster of his bed, you pulled yourself up and slowly approached him. Obi-Wan almost backed away when his robe inched off your shoulders, revealing the nasty red gash just by your collarbone. The idea quickly slipped away, however, when you rested your hands on his forearms, hands slipping under his sleeves and intertwining your fingers.

‘What else would I do?’ You softly laughed. ‘It’s you, Obi.’

‘Would you have done the same for someone else?’ He asked. ‘For Anakin? Or for Ahsoka?’

You faltered slightly, grip on him loosening a tiny bit. ‘Of course.’

‘Y/N.’

‘What?’

‘Don’t lie.’ He suddenly jerked his hands away from you, spinning around on his heel so that you were suddenly facing his back.

‘Fine.’ You grumbled. ‘I would only do it for you. I would only blindly throw myself in front of a bullet for you. Not anyone else. Not a single soul. Does that make you happy? Does that inflate your ego enough, Kenobi-’

‘- that’s not what this is about.’

‘Then tell me!’ You let out a small groan of pain as you grabbed him by the material of his shirt, using every last ounce of energy to make him look at you again. ‘Tell me what it’s about because you are not making sense and I am the world’s leading expert in that field.’

‘It’s not about anything.’

‘Oh, bullshit!’ You whacked his arm, adrenaline worming its way into your tired body and finally allowing you to raise your voice. ‘I just saved your fucking life and you’re acting like a moody son of a bitch and accusing me of lying!’

‘It’s because I love you!’

‘Well, I love you too!’

‘Great!’

‘Fine!’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Brilliant!’

‘Well I’m glad we cleared that up!’

‘Me too!’

‘We should probably stop shouting!’

‘Good idea!’

You unballed your fists just in time to catch the material of Obi-Wan’s shirt as he stepped towards you, taking you by the waist and pulling you towards him. He crashed his lips into yours, knocking the air from your lungs as he did. You’d thought about kissing him many times - more than you were willing to admit, actually - but now that you were actually here, with a handle tangled in his soft hair and his warm lips moving against yours?

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment - for the declaration of love or the kiss or the way he was holding onto you, hands desperately gripping to your waist as though you were about to slip away into the darkness of the galaxy and leave him alone forever. Just a few hours ago, that had been a very real possibility.

You’d admitted to yourself earlier that you probably couldn’t have survived in a world without Obi-Wan Kenobi. Little did you know that he’d admitted to himself years before that he couldn’t have survived without you.

‘I love you.’ His words were softer now, barely a whisper against your lips as pressed his forehead to yours.

‘If I’d known that almost dying was all it took to make you tell me, I would have done it years-’

‘-Y/N.’ He groaned.

‘Sorry.’ You smiled softly. ‘I love you too.’

[bukojuiice]

are you feline what i’m feline? — todoroki shoto

ೃ pairing: cat boy! ┃pro hero! todoroki shoto  x fem pro hero! reader

ೃ  tags: smut 18+ (the rest of the tags are below the cut!)

ೃ  warnings: nsfw

ೃ wc: 3k words

ೃ  my nav  →  my mha writing masterlist  → my katsuki bakugo x reader smau

ೃ  blessed with a quirk that can temporarily transform any human being into any living thing they want through the means of potions and concoctions, you brew up a cat girl potion to surprise shoto for your second year anniversary. however, some accidents and mishaps happen, and you’re welcomed home by a handsome cat boy instead.  

ೃ dedicating this fic to the lovely and amazing @todosweetheart​ bc her cat boy! shoto art is the reason why this fic exists. thank u for the content u feed us val! 🥰💓

additional tags:  use of natural aphrodisiac, cat boy! kink, overstimulation, fingering, kitten/cat play, rough but loving sex)

You had just recently moved in to a new neighborhood with your boyfriend, Todoroki Shoto. 

Your blissful domestic life with him was just about to begin and life couldn’t get any better than this. and yet... 

sometimes you wish you could do more for him. 

The two of you met when you were hired to work at his father’s agency, stealing glances at him by the reception area whenever you came in for work, and coincidentally getting into the same elevator as him. Not knowing that he was woefully smitten with you too. It was only through the probing of your co-workers that you had drunkenly confessed to him at a company party and he had (soberly) confessed to you too.

That was where everything started. 

That was how you and the No. #3 Pro-hero got together.

Sometimes, it made you think if you were even worthy of his love. 

You were just a hero with a support quirk; with it being used for more science and field-related work as your powers made you manifest and create drinkable liquids that could change the physical appearance of a person (make them invisible, turn them into an animal, or even turn them back into a child or into an elderly person) for a limited time and depending on how strong or weak the solution. This means that through your quirk, you are able to tamper with a person’s DNA through these concoctions without any consequences. It was a powerful quirk, just like magic, yes, but can it be used for offense? Sadly not.

Shoto’s quirk was the exact opposite. Bearing the quirk of fire and ice, he was the definition of perfection. The perfect quirk, the perfect combination of two exact opposite elements, and how adept he is at using both of them. Often praised and hailed by the public for not only being extremely powerful, but also for how painstakingly handsome he is. You were just waiting for some controversial tabloid to talk about the No. 3 Pro Hero and his girlfriend who was way out of his league. 

Shoto constantly reassures you not to worry about them, never failing to calm you down with his gentle I love you’s and forehead kisses whenever he sees you tensed up and nervous, and never failing to tell you that you are the light of his life and his strength to continue fighting. and yet, it still worries you sometimes.

Today marks your 2 year anniversary. 

The two of you decide to go out on a simple date tonight at one of the best-reviewed restaurants in the neighborhood as the two of you were busy with throwing out the moving boxes and unwrapping your furniture, combined with the hero work that the two of you do during the day. Completely ruling out the possibility of being able to plan an elaborate anniversary date. 

But, it was alright. As cheesy as Shoto makes it sound, no day can ever become the worst, as long as he’s spending it with you. 

“Ah~ Those crepes were super yummy! Plus, the cafe was really cute!” You beam with a satisfying yawn, the two of you walking side by side, hand holding the other, and his arm wrapped around your shoulder for that extra warmth against the cold summer night. 

“Yea. There was a classy vibe to it. That was my first time trying a galette, and I must say that was tasty.” He remarks, turning to you. Your radiant and lively energy was infectious and he can’t help but smile. “Leave it to Mina and Sato to know all the best restaurants, I suppose.”

You nod contentedly and the two of you continue to walk back home in silence. Shoto looks around, taking in the sight and wondering if he could point out any small details about your surroundings that could make you laugh or smile. He notices a small shadow perk up from beneath a bush and he casually points at it. “Hmm? (Y/N), look over there.” 

You follow Shoto’s gaze and also notice the small shadowy figure. “Oh?”

The quiet sound of a purr could be heard from the bush. The two of you wait a little bit for the creature to reveal itself. A black cat pounces out of the plant, it’s beautiful green eyes staring back at you. “Meoooow.”

The cat walks up to you and you crouch down, putting your hand out, and wait patiently. Sure enough, the cat nuzzles against it. 

“Ahhh she’s so cute.” You observe the cat a bit more and notice it’s femme feline features. Shoto crouches down next to you and pats it’s head. Clearly the kitty seems to enjoy all this attention as she’s purring up a storm. “She is.” 

You glance at Shoto and notice how his eyes glimmered a different blue-grey light as he continued to play with the kitten. Pure bliss present in his face. His handsome and soft features make you blush, with the heat rising up to your cheeks, you quickly turn away before Shoto could notice you.

Bingo.

What if you turned into a Cat Girl and made Shoto… ya know…

It was a simple formula after all. You could whip up a concoction, sprinkle in a little bit of natural aphrodisiac and that’s it! The recipe to the sexiest and kinkiest night of your life! Maybe you could show your love to Shoto in a different way than most girlfriends do to their boyfriends no?

“AHAH!” You suddenly jump up from the ground, your boyfriend perks up a little bit in surprise too. You then bring out your phone and begin scrolling through your notes. “Sho-kun! Come on! Let’s get home!” You grab his hand and drag him away. He adjusts his running to your pace, smiling at your sudden burst of eagerness and excitement. “Alright alright, love. Be careful so we don’t trip.”

That night, you told Shoto to not wait for you as you had to brew up some potions for tomorrow as specially requested by a hero from your agency. Although reluctant at first to leave you, he intently watched you work your magic at  the little science lab in your house. The smell of the strong chemicals waft around the living room, prompting him to retreat back to your bedroom, but not without a quick kiss (that was about to turn into a make out session) before bed. 

“Happy anniversary, Love.” Shoto holds you by the waist, resting his head on your shoulder. The two of you swaying slightly to the non-existent rhythm and this makes you almost want to go to bed with him. “Shall we continue this tomorrow?” He peppers kisses down your neck, you giggle in response. 

“We shall.” You turn to him and deliver a kiss to his lips. You pull away before you could even begin to think of yearning for more. “I’m sorry if we had to cut our anniversary short. It’s your day off tomorrow right? I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

He nods first before giving you one last kiss, this time on the forehead. “Goodnight (Y/N). I love you.” 

“I love you too.” He pulls away. you watch him leave your lab first and make sure he’s out of sight before you get back to work. 

After a few more hours of solving the formula and crafting the recipe for a potion that doesn’t necessarily turn you into a cat, but rather, give you only cat ears and a cat tail, yu bring out a thermos bottle from the cupboard and pour in the liquid solvent along with the natural aphrodisiac. You stir it a little bit before using your quirk to add the finishing touch and to make it a viable and an actually working potion. 

“Can’t wait to drink this tomorrow.” You snicker to yourself, as you pour all of the liquid onto the thermos, storing it in the fridge and then proceed to go to your bedroom and finally hit the sack.

“AHH I’M LATE!” You rush out of the bedroom, messy bedhead hair, your hero suit not even fully zipped up, mismatched socks, and your bag tossing and turning, most of the contents falling out, your thermos being one of them. “I’M LATE FOR WORK! BYE! I LOVE YOU!” You greet Shoto who was eating his breakfast in the kitchen, planting him a farewell kiss on the cheek as you dash your way out of the house. 

“I l-love you too.” He bids goodbye with a wave, but you weren’t even there to hear it anymore. Shoto’s eyes cast downward, a bit disappointed that he wasn’t even able to greet you properly this morning and how your anniversary date felt so short even though you promised each other you would spend more time together later today. 

He then notices your water bottle on the ground. A sticky note that was labeled “Drink me!” was attached to it and of course as every other person would react once they see a note like that,

Shoto thought that was for him. 

“SHO! I’M BACK!” You call out to him, closing the door behind you. “Sho~?” You sing-song, peering through the kitchen and the living room but your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen. “Where are youuu?” You continue to traverse through your house, looking for him. You grind to a halt when you notice your thermos bottle on top of the dining table… All empty.

Oh no.

Oh no no no no.

“Shoto!” You call out, your voice cracking with nervousness. You rush to your bedroom, hoping and praying that he was there. Only… for the lights to be out. 

“Sho?” Your hand reaches out for the light switch. But, you hesitate. What if a demon had kidnapped your boyfriend and you had to save him!? What can your quirk even do to save him!?

“(Y/N)...” He finally responds. Although his tone was soft and still a bit suspicious, you breathe a sigh of a relief and finally turn on the lights.

The lights illuminate the room to reveal your boyfriend in his usual turtleneck fit that you always ogle at. You look up and down, noticing that this is still the same man you know and love and nothing bad actually happened until… 

You look up and behind him.

He’s still the same man you know and love. 

Just this time however. he’s a cat boy. 

“I drank the potion that you made.” He says ever so casually, nothing ever fazes him as usual. “It had a “drink me!” sticky note attached to it and I thought it was for me.” He continues to speak plainly. You thought you could get out of this situation scotch-free and you didn’t have to explain to your loving boyfriend what had happened to him. That was until he crossed his arms, his feet tapping the ground, and his cat tail waving behind him. “Please explain to me why I am now a cat boy.” 

“Well…” You began twiddling with your fingers, trying your very best not to make eye contact with him or else you would end up squealing in delight because of how adorable he looked. “You see, I made this potion to turn me into a cat girl so that I can… ya know… please you and stuff. I saw how affectionate you were with the cat we saw last night so.. I guess you can consider this as my late anniversary gift to you?” You laugh sheepishly, still trying your best not to look at him as his gaze intensifies. 

Shoto’s black and white cat ears twitch as he tries to stifle a laugh. “Fine. I forgive you. This will wear off eventually right?” You nod in response and Shoto’s shoulders slump down in relief. He was about to approach you and envelop you in a hug, until his legs wobbled midway and he practically fell down onto the floor. 

You rush to him and help him stand up, propping himself on the bed. “Sho… are you alright love?”

He starts breathing heavily, cat ears twitching once again, fingers trembling, lips quivering, and his face as red as a tomato. “(Y/N)... what was even in that potion you made?”

You suddenly remember the aphrodisiac you added to the recipe.

Oh no no no no (2)

Shoto suddenly turns away from you before you could notice the bulge rising in his pants. He covers his face in embarrassment, refusing to look at you. 

“I also added some aphrodisiac and some catnip into the potion ahahaha…” You scratch the back of your neck. Shoto turns to you again, his eyes glowing like that of a cat and giving off a smoldering feeling. He shifts your position, gently yet somehow arduously pinning you down on the bed. He steps closer, hands moving up your sides, going around your back, pulling you flush against him. Shoto nips at your earlobe, sending sparks through you. 

You bite back a moan as he kisses your neck, his tongue hot, the gentle scrape of his teeth (slightly sharped like that of fangs) leaving you shivering. 

The two of you stop for a bit. He breaks the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. Tension coils around him, barely contained energy. As if Shoto is preventing himself from showing you his animalistic and feline hunger wanting to ravage you.

“C-can I-”

Before Shoto could even utter another word, you grab his face and pull him back into a desperate kiss, capturing his gasp and the throaty moan that follows. You capture his mouth with yours, and he responds eagerly, his kiss fervent, all his restraint crumbling at your touch. 

He kisses your chin, and you tip your head back as he trails his lips down your neck, murmuring praise.

He lays you down, hiking your shirt up, tossing it to the floor, then deftly unhooking your bra, and exposing your breasts. You giggle and reach for his pants, unzipping the fly and getting a little thrill when you see the huge bulge in his boxers. 

You push up his turtleneck sweater to admire his abs and Shoto smiles back at you seductively. 

“Like what you see?” He says teasingly, a little quip that he barely does when the two of you make love, his husky voice makes your stomach swoop.

“I can only tell you if you purr first.” You tease back, running your fingers over his cat ears. Shoto  feels the tickling sensation build up inside of him, slowly about to give in to his raw animal instincts. While you continue to run your fingers through his cat features, he begins to suck and nibble on your breasts. You feel yourself get lost in his gentle caress, barely even notice him pulling off your panties and sliding them off between your legs. Shoto’s fingers slowly slide into your womanhood, as if testing out the waters. He works them in and out for a bit, then pulls them out, brings them to his mouth, and licks them. 

Like a kitten licking its milk. 

“Sho…”

You feel the last of Shoto’s restraint break as his cat ears twitch again, you can practically feel the energy crackling around him, and the hunger in his eyes more evident than a while ago. Shoto then braces his arms beside your head, as he slots his hips between your thighs. You rise up to meet him, a low moan spilling from your lips. 

“(Y/N)... I’m going to put it in now…”

You bite your lip and nod in confirmation. 

Shoto gently sets a slow pace, your head spins at the sensation and the arousal coursing through you, your hips rolling to meet the movements of his cock. As he enters, the thrilling sensation courses through you again and your mind feels like it just melted. 

You gently rub his cat ears again, and his cock twitches inside of you, the enthralling reaction resulting in a shudder of pleasure shooting through your body, unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. And that pleasure transmits to Shoto loud and clear from your pussy. 

Meanwhile, his breathing was ragged, more wild and animalistic than normal. Which is to be expected due to the potion but… this hot and intense feeling radiating off of him was different. 

And you love it.

“I-I feel like I’m losing control…”

As Shoto speaks, he slams his cock into you, making your legs shake and you moaning louder than you should. Everything seems more intense, from his thrusting to the look on his eye. 

At this point, it’s getting harder and harder to form a coherent sentence. 

“Is it alright if I go faster?” Shoto says softly, you hold his hand in reassurance, unable to respond properly as every intense emotion running inside of you makes you let out hitched and breathy moans instead. 

Shoto pulls out halfway, then slams back inside of you, making a loud sticky sound.

The two of you were acting like animals in heat. 

“A-ah! Shoto!” You mewl out, each of Shoto’s thrust hitting an undiscovered part of your insides. Spurred on by your voice, his pace further increases, until you’re both moving frantically. You gasp at his intensity, at the weight and heat of his body pinning you down.

“(Y/N)! I’m going to-” 

You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him on, and his fluffy tail briefly brushes against you. Shoto’s body tenses up as he prepares to unload inside of you.

Shoto’s body spasms- including his tail. Waves of pleasure flood over you as his semen shoots full-force into your depths.

The two of you gaze into each other’s eyes for a minute before he slowly lays himself next to you, his feline features slowly disappearing as you try to catch your breath.

“L-look they disappeared with one whoosh.” You say in between pants and giggles, Shoto covering the two of you with your bed duvet, chuckling along with you/

“Next time, please label things properly and tell me if you added any sort of ingredient that could increasingly highten my sex drive.” He says with an exasperated sigh, yet satisfaction plastered all over his face as he looks at you lovingly. “I love you (Y/N). Happy anniversary… nya~” He whispers the last few words, shooting you a wink. 

Your eyes widen, your mouth forming into an O like that one Chris Pratt meme. “Y-you just said…”

“Let’s h-have a nap and just have some late dinner instead.” He shushes you by planting a kiss on your forehead. 

You were about to protest, but as soon as Shoto shut his eyes, you didn’t bother doing so anymore.

You plant a kiss on his knuckles, snuggling closer to him. “I love you too Sho. Happy anniversary.”

[leviiattacks]

Hi, you're a very talented writer and your works are very beautiful. Can I request one where Levi's fem s/o does the ignore your boyfriend prank? Thank you so much and take care of yourself ❤️

author note :: thank youuu i’m glad you think that anon !! this isn’t good at all bc i’m just very sick and yeah,,, i’m sorry if this doesn’t live up to your expectations but i needed something to do and ended up finishing this. hmmm what is this is it fluff?? idk it’s captain levi and survey corps member reader though :-) requests are open so feel free to drop by if you’d like :D word count :: 3.4k 

you should NOT be bothering levi as much as you are because he understands you need your own space to relax sometimes

but come on... you’ve been ignoring him for an unreasonable amount of time now??

and he’s not talking about groggy ignoring, it’s not the type you do when you’ve just awoken from a restless night’s sleep

no. you’re talking to everyone apart from him.

and it’s driving him up a literal wall

did he do something wrong???

has he made a mistake so large that you’re too scared to bring it up???

are you finally sick of him??

will you break up with him?

levi winces when thinking of that specific question

but he’s the type to silently keep his worries to himself as soon as he sees any indication of a bad omen

currently, he’s mentally preparing himself for you to break the news to him any day now

but little does he know you’ve just pulled a prank hoping for him to whine and complain a little

the point of this all is to elicit an out of character reaction

;-)

the idea came from historia at first

her playing such a foul trick on ymir didn’t go unnoticed and little by little ymir’s resolve crumbled away throughout the day

she went quite literally ballistic trying to get historia’s attention

and watching it all play out made you want to try it out with levi

you’d be a FOOL not to

WELL!!!! the fun part about this is that you’re a bit actually, no. a lot, more stubborn than historia!!!

and instead of committing to the prank for a day you’ve chosen to see how far you can stretch this out

if you have to drag it out for two days so be it

you have good reason to

levi isn’t the most affectionate man, your relationship is kept a total secret from all of the cadets

meaning pda never happens

and,,, listen you would love to kiss him before expeditions without having to drag him behind your horse for cover

to be frank the back of a horse does smell rather unpleasant and it’s not as romantic as you’d like for it to be

honestly you’d rather have everyone stare and gawk in awe watching the two of you make out

seeing them put two and two together realizing what it is that’s going on between you and the captain would be hilarious

especially since reiner said last week he could never picture levi dating anyone

AND!! he even had the audacity to say he thinks someone like him would never date someone on the team

is it really not that obvious to them?

do you and levi lack chemistry?

silently fuming you walk away and even then none of the cadets get the hint

but you do think mikasa has known for a while. her senses are sharp and whenever she sees you and levi together she makes a u-turn heading in the opposite direction away from the both of you

but even if she does she isn’t going to tell anyone about it unless she’s directly asked so it’s not like the cat will be out of the bag any time soon

it’s silly getting worked up over reiner’s comments but it’s kinda disheartening having the relationship be kept a secret

and you thought even if it was there would be at least a hint of a rumour, like it should be decently obvious it’s been months since the two of you began to see each other

ESSENTIALLY, this is your plan to “accidentally” let the cadets figure it out

eventually levi will have to get restless enough to do something bold

that’s what you think will happen

but then the reality of the situation hits you at the end of the first day

he seems to be dealing with it just fine ?????

after giving him the cold shoulder he shows no signs of returning at all

...

WHY IS IT NOT WORKING???

mayday mayday mayday....?!??

red alert....?!??

you are about to bang your head against a wall he’s the one who’s meant to be suffering over this not you

but again, you’re stubborn and won’t give in easily

by the end of day one levi has approached you two times

two...

each time you’ve given him completely blunt responses

it’s frustrating you that he’s just dealing with it as it comes

and when he does speak to you it’s not to ask what’s wrong

the first time he approaches you is to ask if you’ve seen petra around which makes your blood boil a little because everyone knows petra has a big, fat, MASSIVE crush on him

you know he won’t ever reciprocate or anything for a number of reasons but you can’t help but feel annoyed

the second time he speaks to you is to ask if you’re willing to help hange out with some paperwork

??????

he doesn’t even look interested in asking you what’s wrong

honestly you would drop this plan but you’re in too deep now

may as well keep it up.

the second day rolls around and it’s not your best day

you burn breakfast

trip over a broom and hit your leg rather hard against the dining table

spill an ENTIRE cup of tea over hange’s important documents

and you haven’t slept a wink after overthinking your relationship status for hours on end

maybe this prank wasn’t a great idea

you’re hunched over the documents close to tears not knowing how you can save them now

there’s nothing you can do and even though you know hange will be okay with it, (they’ve never cared much for paperwork) you just don’t want to inconvenience them with this mess

“y/n?”

looking up you see eren standing by the doorway of the kitchen watching with a humored expression as you place paper towels over the disaster you’ve created

“captain’s looking for you.”

perking up a little internally you make sure to remain as disinterested as possible on the surface

“what does he need?”

“i don’t know he didn’t say.”

“tell him i’m busy.”

and that’s all that occurs during day two

you pass by levi and occasionally his gaze flicks to you but he doesn’t take any action to address you in public or in private

you end up going to bed even more disappointed than you were the first night

the prank definitely isn’t going the way you want and instead of it leading to levi cornering you in front of everyone and dipping you into a dreamy swoon worthy kiss it’s led to you developing doubts.

many doubts.

but you aren’t giving up any time soon, now more than ever you want to be reassured levi even wants this relationship because he’s not acting like it

it’s admittedly a bitch move on your part for pulling this prank in the first place but you expected him to ask how you were doing it has been forty-eight hours after all

if the roles were reversed you’d force him into a room until he would tell you

so you can’t explain his weird behaviour at all

maybe he doesn’t like you as much as you think

that thought makes your eyes sting at the corners

he’s always been reserved and a little lost when it comes to opening up but you’re beginning to lose hope if he finds it this hard to ask if you’re okay

drifting off to sleep before you can wallow in your thoughts any more you wish tomorrow is better

it’s the third day and to say you’re exhausted is an understatement

midday and you’re training in the sweltering heat

the lack of sleep you’ve had recently paired with your stress isn’t doing you any good

a little dizzy you attempt to hold onto a nearby tree for stability but end up somehow missing the mark by a MILE??

tumbling to the floor painfully you hiss at the collision and rub the back of your head which is now sore

footsteps approach you in a hurry and for the first time in days you’re face to face with levi

“you okay?” concern is very much evident in his voice and that eases your nerves

without you even responding he’s turning you around just to check in case

nodding wordlessly you try to get to your feet when you feel a shift.

your ankle without warning gives out on you and you’re sent crashing back down to the ground

closing your eyes and bracing for impact you’re pleasantly surprised when levi catches you by the waist

your weight is leaning onto him and you’re looking down to the floor

hange is yelling from across the courtyard telling levi to drop you off at the infirmary but he doesn’t need to be told that

his instincts do the talking for him and he’s already slung you over his shoulder and begins carrying you towards the base

“levi. put. me. down. this position’s embarrassing.”

he doesn’t respond and you can hear sasha and connie cackling at the compromising situation

swatting his back you’re huffing and puffing yet he’s still ignoring you

you’re being given the silent treatment but you suppose you do deserve it

sighing you deal with the stares you receive on the way there

this is levi and at this point nothing is seen as abnormal when he does it

you can’t really look behind you to see levi’s expression either but when a cadet walks past and mouths “y/n, what the hell did you do??” you know you’re in for it

eventually he reaches the infirmary and without even letting you get a word in he plops you onto the bed albeit a little rough

“what’s with the cold shoulder?” he places both his arms by your sides leaving you trapped

“i-”

“if you want to break up you can just say that instead of beating around the bush.”

you’re stunned by the harsh tone of his voice, he doesn’t have his usual soft timbre and your eyes glaze over in defense

“you want to break up?” your question hangs in the air

chewing at your lip anxiously you know if you bite any harder you’ll draw blood

“i don’t care. if that’s what you want, sure.”

oh.

oh no.

this isn’t going how you planned

nails digging into the flesh of your palms you hang your head low

he doesn’t care at all

if that’s what you want????? really???? that’s his response??? he won’t even fight for you???

it’s silent as he bandages your ankle and you’re burning in a mix of embarrassment and fury.

“i was just pull-” choking up in the middle of your sentence you feel yourself automatically frown

“i was just pulling a prank on you. you know how historia did with ym-“

really you’ve always been terrible at holding back your tears and a few spill over the edge and you sob

why are you like this why why why why why?????

yeah,, you get why everyone calls you overly emotional from time to time but really you swear you feel your heart shatter a little at how levi’s acting

shielding your eyes with your sleeve you cower away from him

lord have mercy.

levi wants to curl up into a ball and die from the wave of embarrassment that hits him

a prank.

a trick.

and he didn’t catch on.

and now you’re crying.

because he thought acting tough and cold in case you wanted to break up with him made perfectly logical sense???

spoiler : it didn’t make any sense...

but now it’s made him look like he hates you??

but he doesn’t hate you

no, no, no. not at all.

he could never hate you.

you’re always willing to help anyone out, you’re genuine, always say sorry even when you don’t need to, unapologetically yourself at any moment, you’re fearful yet push it all aside to be courageous and most of all he loves your little hobbies because who in their right mind actually enjoys gardening??

he’s convinced people who say they like gardening are looking for something unique to make themselves stand out but really you enjoy it and it’s quite cute

ok, ok no more getting side tracked whilst talking about your love for plants

he could name so much more he admires about you but he’d be here all day

“i tried to talk to you yesterday but after you refused i thought you hated me and wanted to break up. that’s why i was acting like that just now.” he slowly tries to explain his point to you

“i know i’m hard to love so when you began to ignore me out of the blue i figured you didn’t want to-”

cutting him off without giving him the option of finishing his sentence you’re wide eyed in horror. he was NOT meant to interpret the prank this way.

“levi?? for as long as i’m alive i’ll never get tired of you. i promise.” his heart rate shoots and the intense magnetism between the two of you becomes stronger by the second

you pause for a second gathering yourself.

“and i’m sorry i should’ve thought about how you’d feel. the reason i did it was stupid.”

levi kneels by the bed and takes your hand in his, he graciously lifts the sleeve of your uniform and ducks down to press a soft kiss onto your wrist.

your heart flutters seeing him be so careful and gentle with you and bashfully you look away

guilt overwhelms you at that moment because you really are horrible for putting him through all of that.

levi cares for you he does

he may be silent about it and not the best at being public with it but you know how he feels.

you feel it in the way he looks at you

you feel it when he helps you mount your horse

you feel it when he double checks your harnesses before expeditions

you feel it when he tends to your injuries

and, you definitely feel it right now when it sinks in that he was acting like he hated you just so you wouldn’t feel bad if you really did want to break up with him.

he’s always been bad at picking up on hints and cues so you now understand why he interpreted it as you wanting nothing to do with him

of course he wouldn’t ask how you were if it looked like you wanted to skin him alive

“what was the reason for the prank?” he inquisitively asks genuinely wanting to know what it is he can do for you

“i...” you’re wandering off and suddenly don’t want to tell him

“i wanted you to kiss me.” you whisper in a rush

he cocks an eyebrow up even more lost. “i kiss you all the time?”

“i mean, in front of everyone else.”

he blinks and his mouth forms into an “O” shape

it’s a little awkward now

he doesn’t bring it up again so you assume he doesn’t like the idea of letting everyone know just yet

and that’s okay!! you respect that!!

after all, you can’t get mad at him for it, it’s the best choice.

you don’t want people to accuse him of having bias towards you and it’ll probably upset petra and hinder her performance if her crush just suddenly starts dating out of nowhere

your gaze is back on levi and he’s now double checking the bandage on your ankle after tending to it

“you can’t walk for a few weeks.” he tsks

“be careful next time.” he’s always been blunt when he does show he cares and you warmly smile after not talking to him in days.

you feel the need to apologize again

“to make it clear i really am sorry, i should have thought more about you.”

he scoffs and rolls his eyes

“i’m overjoyed that my beautiful girlfriend doesn’t want to break up with me. now, stop moping around about it i’m over it.”

he scoops you up effortlessly and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“y/n, for the record, i’ll work on not jumping to the worst case scenario first.”

you love this aspect of your relationship

being able to understand how your flaws impact the other and choosing to make changes or adjustments

it’s sweet and you must be smiling like an idiot when thinking of it because levi blows a puff of air onto your forehead knocking you out of your daydream

feeling a little less light headed than before you notice he’s walking back out towards the courtyard

why is he doing that...?

“you’re walking in the wrong direction?”

“no i’m not.” he replies with a smug grin

oh my god

no he isn’t

oh my god

is he???

you’re bright pink in the face as you turn to look at him panicking when you hear hange’s group returning

eren can be heard arguing with jean as per usual and now you’re smacking levi’s chest even harder

“you don’t have to do this no, no, no. it’s okay really.” it’s funny how you’re begging him not to do what you’ve been waiting on for three days

but you really don’t want him to feel like he has to do this

as if he’s read your mind he replies. “i’m doing this with my own free will.”

he gives you one last grin and pushes you up against the wall, your back is against the cold yet solid surface and you tense up

oh god. it’s happening he’s diving down and it’s as if everything is moving in slow motion.

gradually you feel the familiar feeling of your heart jumping out of your chest

both of your lips mould together, he’s hoisting you up again preventing you from slipping away. hungry hands grip at your thighs and a knowing smile twitches across his mouth.

nipping at his bottom lip he groans and you nearly forget why it is he’s kissing you

that is until you hear a SCREAM from your right

“eren what the fuck are you yelling at?” jean’s voice can be heard scowling in the distance but you’re too distracted by levi’s mouth to care

eren must be speechless because nothing is heard until jean reaches the scene

“OH. MY. GOD.”

“WHERE IS REINER??? HE’S NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS.”

“you’re both overreacting.” mikasa makes her appearance and you’re not sure if she’s seen you and levi yet because your eyes fluttered shut long ago

“Y/N AND THE CAPTAIN????? WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING THERE MIKASA??” eren’s voice sounds so distressed you guess you’re right for assuming he may have had a crush on you at some point

“it was obvious, i don’t know how no one else knew.”

finally levi pulls away and you’re panting practically gasping for any traces of air

“what you looking at brats?” levi snaps in their direction and mikasa nonchalantly shrugs and walks away

jean and eren however, dash away at LIGHTENING speed probably on their way to let everyone else know of the shocking new development

levi pecks your forehead and you nudge your nose against his.

since that day you and levi have been able to get away with a lot more pda

you can hold his hand and stare at how pretty your hands look laced together

you can nuzzle your face into his neck without any questions 

you can loop arms with him and even if he acts like he doesn’t enjoy it he genuinely does like walking around with you latching onto his bicep

although he still prefers the privacy of his office he’s more than happy to give in once in a while

and at the end of the day you’re ecstatic because there’s no more kissing behind your horse!!!

GONE ARE THOSE DAYS

wooHOO

honestly, you’re over the moon about it 

and so is levi

:-)

[ackerfics]

levi who's fascinated with the way you apply makeup on yourself and watches you every time you do it, surprisingly does well when you tell him to do your makeup just for fun

i am one of those people who have no idea about applying makeup but i'm levi when somebody's doing it tho, especially if that someone is a close friend of mine snjdnwjnw i just stare at them while they continue doing their thing, it's so fricking satisfying <3

but this is levi we're talking about so here we go:

(pls don't attack me for what i write in this bc i absolutely have no idea abt doing makeup. my knowledge in this is very limited and revolves around watching youtube videos and watching my friends do it bdwjwbj)

if you're planning on going out, even if it's a natural makeup look since you're only hanging out with some old friends or preparing for your class (online or not), levi is ready to stop what he's doing to appreciate the colors you paint over your eyelids or how you blend them so well until they become this aesthetic levi associates you with. for him, you're already so pretty without makeup but when you dedicate your time in perfecting your craft, creating so many looks, levi thinks that it enhances your beauty because you look so adorable while working so hard.

he admires that about you.

you are rummaging in your pouch in your shared apartment's dining table, the morning sunlight filtering through the windows and the pink skies blanketing the waking-up city. the smell of french toast and tea covers the entire space, levi cooking breakfast for the day. you have an online class scheduled in about thirty minutes and after going out of the bathroom, you instantly start making yourself look presentable. you have your laptop opened to your camera app as your mirror, deciding that a change of scenery is perfect for your productivity. you pick up your vitamin c dropper and moisturizer and let the low music from levi's phone fill in the background, your hums mingling with the singer's voice. since all of your classes were announced to be set online for the whole year, you opt for a lighter look which still covers the blemishes that your camera can't hide.

you hear a plate click on the spot beside your laptop, a mug of your favorite brew of coffee on your cat coaster appearing soon after.

"what time is your first class?" levi asks you as he's settling in his chair adjacent to yours. he always chooses that seat wherever you two eat since as he claims it, i want you close to me.

you look up from rubbing the moisturizer on your skin. "oh, 7 a.m., i chose the worst time to take that class."

levi sips on his tea. "you have economics, right?"

you begrudgingly nodded. "i know it sucks but i can't do anything about it." you run your fingers over your eyes. "damn, i have dark eye circles." after putting on your primer, you start by putting on concealer on your under-eyes, dabbing on your skin gently. the whole day, you'll be lounging and doing work inside the comforts of your shared apartment with your boyfriend so going overboard with the makeup won't help and will be a lot of work to erase later after your classes. "what time is your class, levi?"

by now, levi's breakfast is forgotten as he leans on his chair, gray eyes following each of your movements. he always find himself captivated with how effortlessly you make yourself even prettier. even though he prefers your bare skin more (placing random kisses on your cheeks or the corners of your lips are more doable without the feeling of cream stuck on his lips), he still likes how makeup turns you into an artist that uses your face as a blank canvas. he watches with awed eyes how you daintily dab your cream blush over your cheeks and over you the bridge of your nose, blending it that levi thought it's a natural glow on your skin.

with a dazed tone, he answers, "nine."

you glance at him with the prettiest eyes he ever find on a person. you sigh when you realize that he woke up early to make breakfast. "i can cook breakfast, you know. you should've slept in today, levi."

levi shakes his head, sipping on his tea. "no, i'd rather wake up early and make breakfast every day than snuggle alone with our pillows." he then shrugs. "besides, watching you do your morning routine is a great way to start the day."

you only smile at him before cutting a piece of french toast and putting it in your mouth. a hum of satisfaction lights up your face. levi's way of cooking traditional breakfast dishes never fails to amaze you. he has these secrets that even you don't know of since he wants to cook for you with surprises sometimes. with half of your french toast consumed, you continue with your eyebrows and eye makeup, which only consists of applying one shade of eyeshadow and putting on mascara.

if levi has a favorite part of your routine, it's you curling your eyelashes and applying mascara on them to make your eyes more noticeable. and as he watches you create the illusion that your eyelashes longer than they are, he can't prevent the blissful sigh coming out of his lips. it catches your attention and the moment your eyes meet with his, levi's cheeks start to warm. that pretty smile that always take his breath away greets his vision, making him shy under your gaze.

"like what you see, babe?" you jokingly ask.

after staring on his untouched french toast like they're worth displaying in a museum, levi looks back to you with half-lidded eyes. "very much, baby."

now, you're the one with flaming cheeks. the little moment turns into something that induces a laugh from levi, with you huffing that your heart sometimes can't take his words. you go back to finishing your french toast before applying your flavored chapstick, levi's loving stare never faltering, lasting even when you have your first class of the day.

every once in a while, you hand levi your makeup pouch with an expectant stare. the first time you did this to him, he couldn't comprehend what your intention is at first until you tell him that you want him to be the one doing your makeup this time. he nearly backs out. he's scared of poking your eyes out but you reassure him that he will never do that.

for a person who never imagined himself in this position, the ending result becomes your favorite look. not because it's levi but because he did it so minimally that it appeals to you.

"this is for your face, right?" levi softly asks, lifting your moisturizer. he's sitting close to you, inches separating your faces. he's saying that it makes him see clearer but you know that he's being clingy without saying anything. "i just want to make sure i'm using the right products."

"levi, sweetheart," you laugh under your breath, "i already laid out everything on our bed. and in order. you got this."

he sighs. "you have another minute to think this through. we're meeting with the others in the club and i can't have you looking like my coloring book when i was three."

you place your hands over his cheeks. "relax, levi, you'll do fine!"

"fine."

opening the moisturizer, he keeps glancing at you to check if he's putting the right amount on your skin. once the small dots of cream are on your face, levi takes a deep breath and gently rubs it to cover your skin. despite having blemishes, levi thinks that your skin feels so soft underneath his calloused fingers. he'll caress your cheeks the whole day if not for your supposed call time which is in forty minutes. a sigh brushes on your face, levi cursing erwin for making them come on time. once he finishes rubbing your moisturizer on your face, he nods in approval, and kisses your lips quickly before moving on to the next step which is the primer.

you are admiring levi the whole time his face scrunches up in concentration. you're holding your laugh back when you see his lips curling in distaste, having applied more than your instructed amount. you're looking at him with a soft stare, your small smile fondly lifts up your lips. his eyes are a beautiful shade of silver, blue tones peeking through, and it makes your heart warm. his skin glows under the overhead lights of your shared bedroom, smooth to the touch. there are no words left to speak --- levi is simply the most beautiful person gracing your life, the definition of pretty and handsome combined together.

"okay, i'm starting your eyes now."

you didn't register that he's finished with applying concealer and blush on your cheeks.

levi turns to the opened palette sitting on the towel-covered duvet. "which shade are you feeling right now?"

with a cheeky grin, you answer, "how about you surprise me."

"... if i hear one complain from you later, you can always catch a ride with four-eyes on the way back."

levi eyes a specific palette with oranges and browns and starts winging it. if someone looks from the sidelines, levi looks like he's ready to murder someone. his eyes are narrowed, bottom lip in between in teeth, and face scrunched in peak concentration. he starts with that shimmery dark peach eyeshadow he finds pretty on you, then continuing with something darker on the outside corners of your eyes. one eye lasts for ten minutes but you understand since this is levi's first time applying makeup on a person. you can feel his breath tickling your face since he has scooted closer to you to perfect this.

"okay, i'm done, what's next?"

"liquid eyeliner."

that alone makes levi stop.

"then it's the mascara. your favorite part."

"... you do the eyeliner. i don't want you going blind because of me."

in short, levi is phenomenal with makeup and he doesn't even know it.

[tsumucore]

LUCID DREAMS

✎ … Miya Atsumu

word count: 5.2k

warnings: NSFW, pwp, daddy kink, a lot of degradation, spanking, choking, sexting, overstimulation, masturbation, he kinda spits in your mouth, just rough sex overall

All characters are 18+ !!!!

A/N: this is my first nsfw fic, so pls bear with me 🥺  I’m also dedicating this to @starboybokuto and @strawbericream for inspiring me and also bc they’re literally smut icons in the fandom and after writing this, I’m realizing just how hard it it to do and I just wanna appreciate them for all the effort they put in <3

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

His moans were like honey, pouring from his sweet lips and into your ears, as his thrusts became erratic. He was close. The sounds of your own pleasure filled the room before he swallowed them up completely with his beautiful mouth. You were close. This space that was inhabited by you two was the only dimension where time didn’t exist. Nothing else mattered in this moment, except for each other. You were so, so, so, so, so clo-

“Wake up!”

Your roommate’s exclamation breaks you out of your lust-filled slumber with a jolt. You groan and silently curse her as details of the dream gradually come back to you; she’d have to make a run for it if she valued her life, or at least avoiding getting smacked in the face by the pillow you throw at her with impressive force.

“Y/N, what did I do? she whines. “You told me to wake you up. I only did what you said!”

“Literally fuck you, I was having a good dream,” you fire back.

“MAN if you don’t… anyway shouldn’t you be in class by now?” Your eyes widen as you fumble for your phone to check the time.

“Shit!” Usually, you wouldn’t have bothered showing up if you were running late, but this class took attendance, and you were already on the cusp between two letter grades. A menial attendance point could be the difference between maintaining your GPA or tarnishing it.

You wash up in record time, throw on some clothes, and shove your necessary belongings in your backpack before slinging it on your back. You don’t even have time to fill up your water bottle; you’d just have to purchase one on campus later. You pop in your earbuds, select a random playlist, and fly out the door.

You don’t stop until you reach the lecture hall. You try not to cringe as you push open the door, slinking your way in the back to find an open seat; luckily, there was one near the door so your humiliation was short-lived. When you finally sit down and situate yourself, you take a deep breath for the first time that morning and collect your thoughts.

As your mind wanders, memories of your erotic dream come back to you. The faintest of color tints your cheeks, and you shift slightly in your seat as you subtly cross your legs. You pull out your phone, preparing to fire a text at lightning speed. You need your boyfriend.

Y/N: i miss you

Atsumu: :))

Y/N: im not trying to gas ur big head up even more than it already is i’m just whore knee

Atsumu: OH????? aren’t you in class rn?

Y/N: i’d rather be choking on your fat cock tbh

Atsumu: naughty girl, why are you saying such things in the middle of class?

Y/N: what are you gonna do about it... choke me? spank me? make me cum over and over and over again?

Atsumu: Watch your mouth, baby...

Y/N: Ok...

Y/N: ...daddy.

Fighting the smile tugging at your lips, you set your phone on ‘do not disturb’ and refocus your attention on the professor’s droning voice. By the time lecture was over, you scramble out of the building, eager to make a quick call to your boyfriend so you could describe to him in specific detail everything you wanted him to do to you.

Alas, you heard the voices of your friends calling out to you, so you’re forced to sit through idle chit-chat until your next class starts. Of course, today was also a full day, so you would have to endure the rest of your classes, your position as a TA, and the study session your classmates were pulling together at the library for your next exam - which just so happened to be in two days, meaning you couldn’t opt out. At this rate, you wouldn’t be leaving campus until dark. And it was only 10 in the morning.

While you daydream in your next class, you’re broken out of your reverie by the realization that you had neglected to check your phone after effectively ending the conversation with Atsumu the way that you had. You unlock your phone, seeing that you have just one unread message from him - a photo. 

You know what’s coming before you even open it, so you’re careful to ensure that your screen isn’t in anyone’s line of sight - luckily, you were sitting in the back again, so there aren’t any prying eyes over your shoulder. You turn down the brightness and open the conversation before practically salivating on the spot.

You have an idea of what exactly the photo was going to be of, but nothing could prepare you for the effect it had on you.

It’s evident that he had propped up his phone on something and taken the photo on self-timer. Bleached tufts of hair fell over his forehead as he winked back at you through the screen with his lips pursed as if he was going to kiss someone. The only thing he wore was a gold chain around his neck. He was flashing a peace sign with one hand, while the other was wrapped around a good sized erection.

You feel your mouth dry up and your thighs subconsciously squeeze together. The way this photo was triggering a physiological reaction from your body was astounding. You need this man, and you need him now. You whisper to your friend that you had to use the bathroom, that you might be gone for a while - it must have been the iced coffee going straight through you - and to let you know if you missed anything. You try not to trip over anyone’s legs in your haste to get to the restroom.

Since this was a fairly large building, there were multiple restrooms, and so you locate the one you know is always empty and secluded - the one below the main floor. Once you enter, you do a quick check in each stall to make sure you’re alone before locking the door. You go into the biggest stall and commence with your plan of action.

You take off your shirt and bra and neatly hang them on the hooks behind the stall door. The sudden exposure to the chilly air makes you shiver as your nipples harden in response. You then bring your phone up to your chest, so that your face isn't in frame and begin to record yourself lightly massaging your breasts. You make sure to softly moan Atsumu’s name when you pinch your nipple, rolling it between your thumb and index finger. After about thirty seconds, you promptly send the footage to your boyfriend.

He immediately starts facetiming you which causes your thighs to squeeze together expectantly. When you answer the call, you’re greeted with dark, lustful eyes and a shit-eating grin.

“I heard someone missed me today.” His tone is slightly mocking, indicative of something deeper underneath.

“I had a dream about you,” you inform him as you slowly begin to massage your breasts the way you had before.

“Yeah? What happened in your dream?” His eyes darken as he shrewdly observes the way you sigh as your fingers glide over your nipples. God, he wished he could just take them in between his teeth.

You bite your lip in response to his tone becoming increasingly huskier. “I dreamed about you… fucking me.” Your voice falters a bit as you suddenly feel a wave of shyness rush over you. Atsumu often had this effect on you - sure, there was no limit to the amount of things you had done together; however, he was still able to make you feel flustered, as if it was the first time all over again.

“How naughty,” he scoffs. “You love actin’ so innocent, but what would people say if they really knew what was goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours? What would they say if they saw what you were tellin’ me in the middle of class? Do ya know what they would say, dollface?”

You can’t bring yourself to respond, only managing a feeble shaking of your head.

“They would call you a whore. A filthy, depraved slut. And do ya know what sluts get?”

Again, another feeble shake.

“Nothing. Sluts get nothing,” he laughs mockingly as he angles his phone until you have an adequate view of the way he’s been stroking himself this entire time. “And now, dollface, you’re gonna have to watch me get myself off. I want your hands off of yourself entirely... If I catch you touchin’ yourself even once, you get nothing. But if you’re good, I might just play with ya later.”

You whimper at his order, but you have no choice; you had brought this upon yourself by getting him riled up with those texts in the first place. As you swallow thickly, he begins to jerk himself off - slowly at first, torturing you with each stroke as he looks directly through the camera and into your eyes. He then begins to pick up the pace as heavy pants and the occasional moan escapes from his mouth.

“See what ya did to me, baby? This is all because of you.” His breathing grows erratic as he edges closer and closer to his release. “And now look at you. Watchin’ a man jerk off in a public restroom, with your tits out, when you’re supposed to be in class like a good girl. Now tell me, does that sound like a good girl?”

You merely whimper in response.

“Answer me,” he practically growls. “Does. That. Sound. Like. A. Good. Girl.”

“No,” you whisper as you feel a surge of arousal rush to your core. You knew your panties would be suffering thoroughly by the time you returned to class.

“Then tell me, dollface. What. Are. You.” Each enunciation is emphasized with a hard stroke to his cock - the same way he would be thrusting into you. It takes absolutely everything in you not to sneak your hand down to your throbbing clit; he’d know if you did, he always did. The prospect of not being touched by him later was unthinkable, so you continue to helplessly watch him fuck his own hand.

“I’m a filthy whore, your filthy whore,” you whine in compliance as you watch him thrust into his hand a few more times before letting out a long, drawn out moan and spilling his release all over himself. You can’t help the moan that escapes your own lips as you take in the sight of his flushed face and heavy rising and falling of his chest.

“You actually listened to me for once? This is a surprise,” he chuckles once he recovers from his orgasm. “Hurry up and come over… I’ll fuck ya ‘til you can’t even remember your own name.”

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

For the rest of the day, you hoped you were doing a relatively adequate job of hiding your arousal as you went about your responsibilities. You were literally counting down the seconds until you were finished with everything so you could meet up with Atsumu and let him fuck you like he promised. At one point, you caught yourself almost drooling during your group study session at the library. You took this as your cue to leave, so you politely excused yourself by letting the others know that it was time for you to leave as you had to get up early the next morning.

After what felt like the longest and, thanks to Atsumu, the most torturous day ever, you felt completely ravenous. From the second you had woken up, you had been straight up horny, and the fact that you hadn't been able to take care of it was driving you insane. You had been rushed all day, never having a moment to yourself, and when you did, Atsumu had specifically instructed you not to satisfy yourself the way you needed to be satisfied. It was unfair.

To make matters worse, you missed the train that would take you to Atsumu’s apartment as he lived quite a while away from your campus. The next train would be leaving in an hour, which was just too much for you at this point. Delay after delay. You grit your teeth in frustration as you weigh your options: you could wait another painstaking hour for the train that would inevitably take you to your dick appointment or you could spend a fortune by calling for a taxi and getting there right now. While you mentally calculate your finances, your clit throbs just slightly when you cross your legs, which causes you to throw all thoughts of being a penniless college student out the window in favor of getting fucked mercilessly as soon as possible.

•.｡.༺✩༻.｡.•

Of course the elevator in Atsumu’s apartment building was currently out of order at that moment, leaving you with no other choice but to climb the seven flights of stairs to his apartment. At this point, you feel like you’re running on some sort of primal instinct as you sprint up the stairs with the vigor possessed by only someone who’s about to be dicked down. By the time you reach his door, you’re already huffing and puffing, but your own exhaustion escapes your mind as you ring his doorbell impatiently. Once the door swings open, you’re greeted with the sight of your boyfriend smirking back at you.

The motherfucker wore nothing but loose gray sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips and the same gold chain around his neck from earlier. You chuck your backpack on the floor and throw yourself onto him, pressing your lips against his (minty?) ones. The kiss is sloppy and intense as you try to make him feel the desperation you had been forced to endure all day long. 

Somehow, your clothes find themselves on the ground in a matter of seconds. He lightly slaps at your thigh, a signal for you to jump into his arms. When you do, your hands immediately find themselves tangled in his hair, and you tug at the roots lightly, earning a growl from him. You gasp and moan into his mouth when you feel his hands give your ass a good squeeze. He manages to carry you like this into his bedroom before gently dropping you onto his bed, where he palms himself above you as he gazes at your nude form. On god, you can literally see his dick print through his sweats, and it only fuels the wetness forming between your thighs.

“Atsumu, I’ve been waiting all fucking day long. Stop being an asshole and fuck me already like you promised,” you whine as you reach your hands up to rub them along his abdomen, relishing in the feeling of his abs beneath your fingertips. You were hoping that this would coax him into giving you what you want, but he merely ceases his actions and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Who do you think you are, talkin’ to me like that?” His eyes narrow, and he leans down so that he’s hovering directly above you. “Is my baby so goddamn horny that she actually forgot her manners?” His hand comes up to wrap around your throat, gradually squeezing it harder as he glares at you. “Looks like I’ll have to remind ya how to properly speak to me. Turn over - I want that ass up in the air.” 

You pout as you obey his command and flip over on your knees so that your face is shoved into the pillow and your ass is sticking straight up for him, bracing yourself for what you know is about to come.

“You know the drill, since you wanna be such a goddamn slut - count for daddy.” Before you can respond, his hand collides with your left asscheek, causing you to yelp and moan, “One,” weakly into the pillow. The sting doesn’t last for very long, but you know better - by tomorrow, you won’t be able to sit properly.

He continues delivering powerful slaps to your ass and admires the way it jiggles with every smack and the redness blooming across the soft flesh. Every so often, he plunges two fingers into your now sopping heat, without warning. He removes them as quickly as he puts them in, causing you to whine in frustration. By the time you reach ten spanks, you’re babbling incoherently as you wiggle your hips in the air, clenching around nothing and desperate for anything to fill you up.

He flips you back over on your back and scoffs at your desperation. “Have you learned your lesson, whore?” It’s not a question - it’s a demand.

As much as you want to do or say whatever he wants so that he can fuck you already, it’s always more fun to see what happens when you piss him off. You jut out your lower lip in a pout and stare up at him defiantly. “No.”

Before you know it, you’re being flipped back onto your stomach. Another round of brutal spankings are delivered to your asscheeks, causing tears to prick your eyes as the burning pain sets in. You’re going to be sore for the next week.

“Leave it to a whore to be so mouthy,” he growls as he flips you over on your back again and thrusts two fingers into your cunt. “But you like this, don’t ya? You like pissin’ me off, because you like getting your pretty little ass spanked and you like being choked, whether it’s by my hand or on my cock. I should shut you up with my cock, since you wanna be so mouthy. Tell me, do ya like choking on cock, whore?”

“Yes, daddy,” you moan quite loudly. The combination of his degrading words and consistent thrusting of his fingers in and out of your pussy was sending you into a haze.

“Of course you fucking do,” he spits. “You told me so yourself when you were sitting all innocent in class. In fact, what else did ya tell me?” His thumb was now brushing vigorously against your clit during each thrust, causing your legs to shake violently. The whimpers falling from your lips grow louder as you focus on the buildup slowly forming in the pit of your stomach. However, your lack of response doesn’t impress him. He immediately pulls his fingers out and slaps your pussy, eliciting a jerk from your entire body and a drawn-out moan from the surprising sensation.

“Answer me, fuckdoll. Or you get nothing.” He literally shoves his fingers back in and continues his relentless thrusting, filling the room with the squelching sounds of your sloppy cunt. You scramble to remember the contents of the lewd texts you had sent him earlier that day, but your brain is so hazy from the orgasm you know is about to hit you, that you’re stumbling through your words.

“I-I said something about w-wanting to choke on your cock-” your sentence is cut off with a long moan as he applies direct pressure on your clit with his thumb.

“We established that already, dollface,” he scoffs. “What. Else.”

“I d-don’t remember,” you wail and thrash your head side to side against the pillow. Your release is so close, you can taste it. “Daddy, please let me cum - I’m going to cum!”

“Don’t remember? That’s a shame,” he remarks as he completely stops his actions and pulls his fingers out, yet again. You let out a scream of frustration at the fact that your orgasm was just cruelly ripped away from you. “Let’s see, maybe we need a refresher.” To your disbelief, he pulls out his phone and scrolls to the conversation from that morning. “Hmm, you told me to choke and spank you… Well, I’ve already done both of those, so what else?” His eyes narrow down at your quivering form and, to your relief, he puts his fingers back in you and continues thrusting. What was the last thing you told me, whore?”

“I-I told you to m-make me cum over and over a-again,” you gasp out as one final sharp thrust sends you completely over the edge. Before you know it, you’re screaming his name as you crash down from your high.

You moan in bliss as you feel the utter fucking release of the tension that had been building up inside you all day long. However, you barely have time to relax before you realize Atsumu’s still going at it in your now sensitive pussy.

“Tsumu,” you gasp as you feel your body jerking in response to the oversensitivity. “It’s s-so much… I-I c-can’t-”

The motherfucker literally laughs as he watches your face contort from the sheer overwhelming pleasure. “What? You asked for it. You’re droolin’ already and all I’ve given you are my fingers.” His jeering words ignite the fire building up for the second time as tears stream down your face from the overstimulation. “You tellin’ me you want me to stop?” He stuffs a third finger inside, stretching you even further and eliciting even more delicious cries from your lips. It felt like his fingers were thrusting even harder and faster, if that was possible.

“N-no, keep g-going,” you wail before you’re hit with your second orgasm of the night. All that you’re able to get out is a blubbering combination of “daddy” and “Tsumu” as your vision goes white and you hear the roaring of your own blood in your ears.

Atsumu finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy, eyes fixating on the string from your fluids attached to them. He takes advantage of your still panting mouth to stuff his fingers in between your lips. “You know what to do.” His eyes darken as he watches you desperately suck on his fingers, tasting your own essence on them. After he feels that you’ve effectively done a thorough job of cleaning them off for him, he smirks and pulls them out before leaning down so that he’s hovering above you.

“Good girl. Open wide for your reward.” Once you comply, he works up a good amount of saliva and lets it fall in your mouth, directly on your tongue. You moan as you relish the taste of his spit and swallow it all. “Thank you daddy,” you beam up at him.

He draws himself back in satisfaction as he pulls his sweatpants off, freeing his rock hard length and letting it slap against his abdomen. As spent as you are from your previous orgasms, there’s nothing you’re craving more than for him to be balls deep in your tight pussy. He just remains where he is, stroking himself as he watches you grow impatient for him to do something already.

 “Tsumu,” you plead in the calmest tone you can muster. “Please fuck me already.”

He merely continues to pump his cock, much to your dismay. “How much do you want my big cock, whore?” Again, it isn’t a question.

“I want it more than anything in the whole wide world,” you beg. Each stroke to his cock only serves to increase your frustration.

“Prove it.”

You let out a groan and proceed to rub your tits, squeezing them together and rolling your nipples in between your fingers. In your attempt to please him, you notice the way Atsumu slightly picks up the pace of his strokes as he watches you play with your tits.

But it still isn’t enough for him.

“You can do better than that.”

Fucking hell. You let go of your breasts and spread your legs, hooking your hands behind your knees so that he has a perfect view of your pretty, spoiled pussy. Your cheeks burn as you bring your hand down to spread your lips, offering him access to your slick hole. “C’mon, Tsumuuuuu… I’m all good and ready for you.”

Atsumu swallows thickly and finally relents. He grabs your thighs and holds them open as he positions himself at your entrance and pushes into you. You’re so wet from your previous orgasms that he slides in easily, burying himself to the brim as he loses himself in the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you and lets out a long moan. It feels like your pussy is literally swallowing him up as he bottoms out. Your eyes roll back as you feel yourself being deliciously, oh so wonderfully, stretched. His fingers were heavenly on their own, but nothing in the world could compare to the feeling of his thick cock hitting all the right spots in you.

“Fuck, yeahhh. You’re so tight, fuck. How are ya so tight?” Atsumu’s breathing is heavy as he squeezes his eyes shut, relishing the sensation of your walls clenching around him. He starts thrusting slowly, checking your face for any signs of discomfort. However, you grow impatient and start wiggling your hips, urging him to go faster. He scoffs and slaps your breast in response. “Be patient, dollface. You’ll take what I give ya.” You whimper, but cease your actions. Atsumu must have apparently decided that was enough for him as well, because he picks up his speed. 

His hips slap against you from the brutal way he fucks you into oblivion. His strokes are deep and hard, causing you to turn into a sobbing mess. The room is filled with the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass and your cries begging him to not stop and go even harder. The way he pounds into you has your entire body rocking back and forth as you moan at the feeling of his pelvis meeting you with each movement. 

“M-more, daddy!” Drool is seeping out of the corners of your open mouth and your eyes are glazed over from the sheer feeling of him being balls deep in you.

“You love being fucked like this, don’t ya?” Atsumu’s grunts fill your ears and you clench even tighter at his words. “An’ it’s never enough for you. Insatiable whore.” He delivers a particularly sharp thrust at the word “whore” which makes you blubber nonsensically. You want to tell him that you’re his insatiable whore, but your words are jumbling together as all your senses are devoted to the way his cock is slamming in and out of your cunt.

At this rate, you’re about to cum again in no time. Atsumu picks up on this and makes you wrap your legs around him so he can pound into you even deeper from this new angle. The tip of his dick now hits your g spot with each brutal thrust, making you literally scream in delirium. He’s more than pleased at your response, which is why he suddenly halts his movements and tilts his head at you in the cockiest manner. You want to scream and swear at him in every language possible, but you’re in such disbelief that all you can muster is the dirtiest glare at him. He laughs at the way your hips involuntarily move around him.

“Look at ya, you’re so fuckin’ cockhungry. I’m not even doing anything and your pussy’s tryna suck me in.” Before you can protest, he suddenly pulls out so that just the tip of his dick is inside you and slams back in with no warning. He’s back to thrusting into you, hitting your g spot with immense force. 

Before you know it, the knot that had been forming in your stomach completely snaps. His eyes train on the way your tongue lolls out of your mouth and your eyes cross together as your mind goes completely blank when you cum yet again. Your pussy clenches around him, causing him to swear profusely, and your fluids gush out involuntarily. Your cheeks are flushed and your chest is covered in the sheen from your sweat. He lets go of your thighs and leans over to meet your lips with his, never stopping the steady rhythm of his thrusts. You pant into his mouth as the sound of your heartbeat pounds in your ears and the cool metal of his chain dangles against your skin. 

“C’mon, make that face again for me.” Atsumu begins to rub your clit harshly, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you as your entire body shudders.

“I-I-I…” Your teeth are clenched and your eyes are squeezed shut as pressure fills your head from the overwhelming sensation spreading throughout your body. It’s all too much, and you’re not sure you can cum again.

“Give it to me one more time, pretty girl. I know you can do it, I gotcha.” Atsumu starts sucking on the sweet spot behind your ear and continues to fuck you with the vigor of a possessed man. The bedframe shakes uncontrollably from the way he pummels into you. His thumb rubbing furiously at your clit sends shock waves of pleasure throughout your overly sensitive body and before you know it, the familiar pressure is building up in your stomach again. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my go-,” you chant as your eyes roll back in your head and you scream out his name while your vision goes completely white. Atsumu groans at the feeling of your tight walls milking his cock for everything he has. Your whole body is shaking, and you’re so wracked with pleasure that you can scarcely process the way his thrusts grow sloppy as he gets closer and closer to his own release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” His groans fill the room as he erratically pummels into you to chase his high. 

“Cum inside me, daddy. Want you to fill me all the way up.” Your words are slurring together at this point due to the heady arousal clouding your mind, but they’re enough to tip Atsumu over the edge. He lets out a moan and his hips stutter to a stop as you’re overcome with the feeling of his cock twitching inside you and suddenly filling you to the brim with his cum.

Atsumu collapses on top of you and pants heavily in an attempt to catch his breath. The two of you are silent for a good few minutes before he gathers whatever strength is left in him to pull out of you. He remains somewhat on top of your utterly spent body and peppers kisses all over your face. “You good?”

“Never better,” you reach a hand up to stroke his hair, and he hums contentedly in response before rolling over to your side. He throws an arm over you, hugging you to his body and just stares at you lovingly.

“I wasn’t too rough on ya, was I?” His hand reaches down to your ass to rub soothingly at the marks left by him.  

“You were perfect, babe.” You grab his hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. “I’m sleeping good tonight, thanks to you.” He smiles at this and positions himself so that his head is tucked in the crook of your neck. He closes his eyes for a while as he savors the feeling of you stroking his hair and planting kisses on the top of his head.

“Babe?”

“Hm?”

“Ya wanna order food?” His eyes are still shut and you chuckle. “Yeah.”

“Who’s callin’?” He snuggles a bit further into you.

“Not it.” His eyes open and he looks up at you before literally pouting. You can’t believe this is the same man you were calling “daddy” just a few minutes ago.

“Why do I hafta do it,” he grumbles.

“Sorry that my phone’s out there and yours is literally at your feet because you wanted to be theatrical and ‘teach me a lesson.’” You smile as he continues to grumble under his breath, but pushes himself up to grab his phone and dial the number of your favorite takeout place. “Love youuuuuu,” you sing-song and flash a toothy grin at him.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I love ya too.” He rolls his eyes and lies back down next to you as he speaks to the worker on the phone. The entire time he absentmindedly plays with your hands as you sigh contentedly and bask in the feeling of being with him.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ

masterlist ｡･:*:･ﾟ rules

[littlemisslipbalm]

“Similar Tastes”

An enemies to lovers classic. You and Harry are too similar for you to ever get along...maybe

Hi hi! This is for @majorharry’s 20k celebration writing !!! Hope you all enjoy, I always love to hear from you :)))

The prompts I used: “How about you get off my dick” and “Sorry, I didn’t know”

This gif bc Harry “oh god that’s TEQUILA” Styles is king

Fluff? Smut? But definitely angst? Idk how to describe it bahaha a little bit of everything

Word Count: 4.0k | Warnings: language (there are actually two slurs in this - they’re bisexual slurs and they’re said by the bad guy so just take that into consideration), mature content (not quite smut but y’know), alcohol consumption, girl kissing girl at one point

Pt. 2 is up!

-

Saturday night. It was finally time to go out with your group of friends and you couldn’t be happier. Well, you could, but what would make you that happy wasn’t possible. If one of the people in your friend group wasn’t there. That would make you the happiest.

Almost everyone has that one person in your friend group who you can’t stand. Like, at first you don’t really know them and then as you get to know them more you just can’t stand them.

For you that was Harry.

While neither of you would admit why you hated each other, it was obviously about how everyone would always compare the two of you. You had practically identical personalities, and had similar fashion taste. At first, everyone else thought you would end up together because it seemed like you were perfectly matched. But the first time someone said, “Oh, Harry, your jacket looks just like the one Y/N wore last week.” Both of you had seethed in complete dissatisfaction. 

Naturally, Harry took his jacket off early in that evening and you never wore yours again. You hated being compared to Harry, being told he had made a similar joke or said the same thing about something made you want to reevaluate your entire value system. Maybe it was because you both had such an individualistic mindset, but neither of you enjoyed being compared to anyone and that’s what made it all the worse when people chose to compare you to each other. It boiled down to both of you wanting to be the best at everything - the most unique, rather - that made you dislike the other so much.

So, tonight at the bar, as your group rattled in from the street, you stuck close to your pals at the front while Harry was chatting with someone near the back of the pack. Your eyes had met briefly when you’d seen each other’s outfits. Harry’s a half unbuttoned Gucci cream dress shirt, that was rolled to his elbows, tucked into high waisted navy trousers finished with cream boots and yours a navy bra top with a faux collar and a deep cut to show your cleavage paired with cream high waisted pleated pants and navy loafers. Not exactly the same, but if you had stood next to one another it would have looked planned. You rolled your eyes at him as he narrowed his towards you. You couldn’t wait to order a few drinks and let loose after a hard week at work.

As you all approached a booth, somehow the group shifted and Harry and you were suddenly side by side as everyone was getting in the booth. Then, you were sitting and Harry was right beside you. He tried to cover his groan of annoyance when he realized he’d have to be sitting next to you, once again regarding your outfit with disdain. Your only response was glaring at him. The friend who you had been talking to, Marie, placed her hand over your ring-clad one, that was now gripping the side of the table out of annoyance. “Play nice,” she said. You relaxed at her touch trying to refocus on the purpose of the night, fun.

Soon, a waitress made it to your table and smiled sweetly at all your bright faces. Harry and you were located to her left, and her eyes reached you last.

“Oh! You two are too cute! I love when couples coordinate their outfits!”

Harry’s eyes bulged out of his head and you gave a tight-lipped smile as you tried to keep yourself from having a blood vessel pop in your eye right then.

“We’re not” you began, Harry cut you off, “together, love.”

His expression changed as he smirked up at the waitress, trying to make it clear that he was very much single.

“Oh! My apologies...So what can I get everyone?”

As she began to take the orders, you shoved your elbow into Harry’s rib. You did it for two reasons, for him cutting you off when you were talking and for being so on top of you in the booth.

He turned to you, “The fuck was that for?”

“For being an asshole.”

“Excuse me?”

As you’re about to go off on him about being rude, Marie taps your hand and you realize it's your turn to order.

You clear your throat, trying to shake off your angry tone, “Tequila on the rocks, please.”

The waitress nods and then turns to smile at Harry, he gives you side eyes of disdain, “What’s your most expensive tequila?”

Her smile grew, “We’ve got Don Julio Real and Gran Patron for top shelf.”

“Don Julio on the rocks, please.” He winked.

She nods, scribbling something on her notepad, “Oh! Would you like Don Julio as well?” she returns to you.

You shook your head, “No. Jose Cuervo works just fine,” and glared at Harry once more.

Of course he would ask for top shelf, you thought. Harry couldn't have gotten through saying the exact same order as you, especially after the waitress had already pointed out the similarity in your clothes.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Being in such close proximity to Harry made you incapable of leaving the bickering alone. Everyone else always ignored when the two of you really got into it, because it honestly wasn’t that interesting. Like an old married couple, though none of them would ever dare say it.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Y/N?”

You scoffed as he turned in his seat to look at you. “Oh, please, you just couldn’t handle ordering the same thing as me. You had to flex that you could order Don Julio!”

“You’re just upset because you can’t.”

“Come off it! I could, but I don’t feel the need to boost my ego by showing off to the waitress that I can afford the expensive stuff.” You laughed at his attempt at snubbing you about what you can and can’t afford.

His eyes darkened and flashed at you and you could see it even in the dim lighting off the bar. “I wasn’t trying to show off, it’s not my fault you don’t care to drink the good stuff.”

“Okay, Harry,” you say sarcastically, waving him off.

He huffed, annoyed that you were the only person he was sitting next to. He had to call across the table if he wanted to speak to anyone that wouldn’t involve you being completely in the way. As he was about to call out to Mitch who was directly across from him, the waitress returned with everyone’s drinks.

“Jose Cuervo on the rocks! And Don Julio on the rocks!” She beamed at the group after finishing handing them out.

Everyone thanked her and she disappeared. You and Harry simultaneously took sips of your drinks.

You wrinkled your nose, “This isn’t Jose Cuervo…”

Harry placed his drink on his coaster and swallowed, licking his lips he said, “I think mine is, tastes cheap.”

“You’re really an ass,” you say as you shove your misgiven drink to him and snatch his from the table instead.

Harry growing tired of your arguing already, “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he rolled his eyes and took a larger sip of the correct drink.

You take a sip of your own drink and sigh again, “This isn’t even tequila, what the fuck?”

“Ah, no wonder it tasted like shit. What do you think it is?”

“Well, considering there’s only, like, a handful of clear hard liquors besides silver tequila, probably vodka, idiot,” you breathed the last word under your breath, still Harry stared at you with daggers in his eyes. You weren’t actually sure how many other liquors it could be, but you were so pissed off by the whole situation you just wanted to make him shut up.

“Well that’s a bummer, kid. Maybe next time, order a better tequila and she’ll get it right.”

You shoved him, not wanting to wait for the waitress to come back to fix her mistake, “How about you get off my dick and then I can go get something worth drinking?”

Harry huffed as he slowly moved his body up from his seat, yet he stayed so close to the opening of the booth you were practically chest to chest when you slipped out. Due to that, and maybe a little bit on purpose, you knocked your drink forward to get a small amount on him. Not enough for him to be drenched, but enough to bug him for the rest of the night.

“Oops?” you tilted your head and held a sickeningly sweet smile on your face as you looked at his taken aback look. His prominent jaw had dropped as the cold liquid had pooled over his left breast pocket, some of his tattoos now much more visible. You quickly turned on your heel and bounced off to the bar. Harry grumbled and sat back down, Marie leaned over with a napkin, trying to dry him off a bit.

With a fresh drink in hand you weaved back to the table, all your friends were laughing together at something Harry had seemingly said. When you arrived everyone beamed up at you, far more jovial after a few sips of their drinks. Only Harry’s face was sour, but you chose to ignore it and smile at your friends, waiting for Harry to get up to let you into your seat that he had occupied in your absence. When he didn’t, your face began to fall from its smile.

“Are you going to get up?”

“No, just take that seat,” he waves his hand beside him, trying to go back to the conversation he was engaging in before you had arrived.

“But, you’re in my seat,” you pushed.

“You’re the one who decided to get up and leave it.”

“You cannot be serious, Harry.”

“As a heart attack,” he said flatly, and then turned his head to Sarah who was next to Marie.

You looked around the table for help, Mitch gave a slight sad smile like he felt bad, but everyone knew there was no changing Harry’s mind. You knew you didn’t have the strength to yank his large, muscled body out of the booth, so you resigned and took his old seat. There, you kicked Harry’s leg harshly and took a long sip of your alcohol, just wanting to get drunk enough to want to dance and then not be near Harry.

After a second round of drinks, this time the waitress getting your order right, you were feeling better. Harry and you were largely ignoring each other and laughing along with the rest of your friends to some story. Every so often his leg would open up and bump into yours and you’d hit back at it harder, his eyes sliding to your face for a moment and then looking away. He made you so hot with anger and the closeness of bodies in that bar already had the temperature way too high. You gulped at your drink, trying to cool down, but it only had the opposite effect, the alcohol mixing with your blood, heating up your insides, as well.

Then, once the third round of drinks were served, Marie suggested it was time to dance, commenting that some random song that was currently playing was ‘her favorite’. It wasn’t, but whenever she got drunk, every song was ‘her favorite’. However, you were all happy to oblige, feeling restless as the alcohol was buzzing in your systems.

Out on the dance floor, some of the couples in your friend group paired off to dance on each other while the rest of you spread out. You spotted a woman in the crowd wearing a sequin dress that looked absolutely gorgeous on her, her blonde hair reminding you of some rocker chick in the 70’s. While making your way towards her, Harry tried to get in front of you, obviously making his way to her as well.

Another thing Harry and you had in common, the people you typically went for - men and women. Shaking him off with a hand on his chest and a glare, you reached her first and she smiled at you as you complimented her outfit and began to dance with her. Harry resigned to staying with some of your other friend’s when he saw how the woman threw her head back at something you said to her. Soon, she was grinding herself against your front, your lips attached to her neck, hands on her hips.

Feeling particularly happy with yourself, your gaze flitted around the crowded dance floor. Eyes scanning those around you, you soon made eye contact with Harry, who actually wasn’t that far off. His eyes looked a more dull green in the light and he rolled them when he saw you looking up from your place against the beautiful woman. While he still looked on at your languid figures pressed together, you teased your tongue up her neck a bit, causing the woman to keen into your touch. As Harry was about to look away, shaking his head at your antics, he caught sight of a guy approaching you and the other woman.

He said something to the pair of you, but you couldn’t hear him. The woman had opened her eyes to look at the guy and you had removed your lips from her, shaking your head that you didn’t catch what he said.

He repeated himself, yelling this time, “Fauxbians out here trying to catch a real man! How ‘bout we make you total lugs!”

He was loud enough for your friends to hear, including Harry who had been watching the whole scene play out. He pushed through the crowd to get to your side, he might not like you, but he couldn’t stand someone who was homophobic, or biphobic, in this case. You pushed the woman off of you and to the side, she was clearly upset and you weren’t going to let what the guy said slide.

“What the fuck, man? You think it’s okay to say shit like that to people? What year are you living in, like for real?”

As you were about to start really ripping into him, you felt Harry’s presence beside you. You looked over and he looked angry, like really angry, not annoyed or exasperated as he usually did with you. Angry like he was about to grab this guy by the shirt and start pummeling him. Even with all the alcohol in your system, you knew that wouldn’t actually help the situation, even if you did want someone to wipe the smug look off this guy’s face, which had only grown worse since you’d started yelling at him. It was like this stranger was getting off on making these two women in front of him uncomfortable and upset.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Harry spat at the guy.

“Harry,” you turned your body towards him and put your hand on his chest, placing yourself between him and the rude guy, “I’m not letting you get into a fight over what he said. It’s not worth it.”

He had pushed himself almost against this guy, Harry easily hovering over him. Harry looked down at you and then back to the guy, who was chuckling to himself, stepping back from the scene.

He seethed, “You disgust me,” he looked at the man. “Just crawl back into whatever hole your sorry ass came out of.”

The guy just laughed and walked off. Harry looked down at you, his eyes softening instantly. You couldn’t exactly distinguish the look he gave you, you just knew it was something you’d never seen directed at you.

Your brow remained furrowed as you looked at him, then he said, “Let’s get some air.”

You looked around the room for your sequined dress woman, but she was nowhere to be found. So you let Harry take you by the hand out the side exit, to the bar’s alleyway.  

Outside, you immediately brought your hands to rub over your exposed arms, the tiny sleeves of your shirt not being enough to brave the brisk night air. The altercation had shaken you up quite a bit and immediately sobered you. Harry stepped closer to you out of instinct, seeing you were shivering, but having nothing to offer warmth except himself. The two of you leaned against the bar’s outer wall and took a few deep breaths.

“Are you alright?” Harry asked, voice slightly hoarse from yelling in the loud bar.

“Fine. You?”

Why was he being so nice, you were surprised he had stepped in at all, but now he was checking in on you past that, it was confusing.

“Of course. You didn’t even let me get a single swing in.”

You scrunched your face at his comment regarding violence. “Why did you even come over? I can handle myself,” you asked, suddenly feeling the normalcy of bickering settle between the two of you.

Harry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. His pectoral muscles slightly shifted and pushed around his cross pendant in the center of his chest.

“Because he was a dick,” he started, then sighed, “And because I can’t just let some homophobe say a bunch of slurs to my friend.”

Your eyes grew wide and shown in the street lamp, as they looked up into Harry’s green ones. He was slightly sweaty from the bar, but it was quickly drying and leaving a slight sparkle on his skin. His jaw was tensed, as he tried to maintain eye contact with you. You remained silent, unaware how to respond to his statement that he did, despite much evidence saying otherwise, care about you.

Harry decided to continue, “You might piss me off, like all the time, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay for a random asshole to say that kind of shit to you.”

“I’m your friend?” you circled back to what he had said earlier. Your voice was small and also hoarse from yelling in the bar.

“Of course, Y/N, what the fuck?”

“I thought...I guess I never saw it that way.”

“Harsh.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know competing all the time and being annoyed with each other was friendship.” You shifted closer to Harry, your words dripping in sarcasm. Even now, as the two of you checked in on each other and talked about your friendship, you managed to fight.

“That’s just because you’re constantly infuriating me and getting us into fights,” Harry smirked, tapping a finger on your cold nose.

“I think you’ve got it backwards, there, Har,” you winked.

“No, I don’t think so,” he shrugged and pressed closer to you.

Neither of you were very clear on what your bodies were doing, slowly moving so that you had your back against the wall and Harry’s hips were pressed up against yours.

“It’s not my fault you’re always jealous of me,” you breathe, his face inches from yours.

Harry snorted a laugh out of his nose, his eyes slowly blinking and looking away from you, before staring directly at you. “Oh, please, now who has it backwards?” His right arm went up beside your head and his hand rested on the cold stone next to you. His breath, from his laughter and words, fanning over your face, made you close your eyes at the warmth.

You moved both of your hands up to his chest, and he looked down at the movement. One moved up to grip his shoulder and the other fiddled with the cross that had caught your attention when he had folded his arms.

After a beat, Harry said your name, barely above a whisper. Your head tilted up, looking up at him questioningly. You didn’t really understand the position the two of you had shifted yourselves into. “Can I kiss you?” Harry asked.

“Do you want to?”

“Kind of…” He ran a finger over your cheekbone.

Your eyes danced with mischief “Why?”

“Are you serious?” Harry asked in slight disbelief.

“As a heart attack,” you said gravely, throwing the words he had used earlier back at him. He sighed a slight laugh.

“Like I said, infuriating…”

Just as he was about to pull away, you reached up and connected your lips with his. Your hand cupped his strong jaw and brought him closer to you. His warm, wet lips pushed against yours with vigor. There was passion in the kiss. A constant push and pull for who got to be in control. You sucked on his lower lip, trying to get him to open up his mouth, but he declined.

He pressed you further onto the wall, while cradling your head to keep it from knocking against the concrete. His teeth nipped at your lip after a few more moments of fervent open mouth kisses without tongue. You resigned to not getting your way and let his tongue lick into you. Your tongue pressed against his as the two of you continued kissing. While his mouth was harsh, the rest of his touch was mostly soft. The hand that didn’t cradle your head was rubbing up and down your side, only venturing down to your bottom occasionally and squeezing quickly.

Finally, he pulled back, gasping slightly for air. He then rested his forehead against yours and you looked at him from beneath your lashes. One of your hands was now twisted in his curls, while the other was gripping his shirt, over the dried vodka spill from earlier. You smiled as you exhaled a big breath. Harry chuckled giddily.

“That was hot,” you said.

“Y’know, having similar tastes...might not be such a bad thing after all.”

“Knowing us we probably like all the same things…” you trailed off, blushing at the suggestion.

“Why don’t we find out sometime,” Harry winked before brushing his lips against yours once more.

Pecks weren’t possible for either of you though, both of you furiously pressing back together, hungry for more of the heat that came from you kissing.

“That’d be nice,” you whimpered against his lips.

“I think it’d be more than nice…” Harry brought his head down to suck on a part of your exposed cleavage, one of his legs pressed between yours, pushing slightly up into your heat. A strangled moan left your lips as you tried to stifle it. Harry chuckled, his face moved up to right beside your ear, “You’d probably love to have me take you right here, huh?”

His leg pressed up into you and your body automatically grinded down on the pressure. The alcohol and sexual grinding from earlier had gotten you horny and the making out with Harry had definitely heightened your desire.

“But we both know you can’t,” you gained your strength and pressed a little on his shoulders.

As much as you desired Harry right now and he seemed to desire you, as well, he was right. You two were extremely similar and would never actually have sex in a bar alleyway, as much as you might want to in the moment. You both laughed, releasing the sexual tension that was surrounding you.

“I know, but it’s fun to pretend we could...How about we go to my place and see what other fantasies we share?” Harry twisted a strand of your hair in his large hand.

“For once, I’m happy to be on the same page as you, Harry,” you grinned. He picked you up and spun you around, making you shriek in laughter, before heading back into the bar to gather your stuff.

You were quick to scurry out of the bar after telling your friends you were both leaving, tired from everything that had happened. Everyone simply nodded, but the minute you were far enough away they all snickered about the lipstick smeared on the corners of Harry’s lips and your terribly mused hair. Mitch even placed a twenty in the palm of Sarah’s open hand, shaking his head in defeat.

-

Tag list: @cronias13 @theresthingsthatwellneverknow @harrxier @harrys-cherrry @sltwins @awesomebooklover17 @harrys-stan

[cryptidmads]

alright, so i went through the ama with wan hazmer and daim dziauddian on twitch and picked out every little tidbit i could about the megastars bc i knew you guys would want to know. this is a long post and i’m on mobile atm so i can’t put it under a read more — sorry about that! bosses are in chronological order, starting with DJSS and ending with Eve!

DJ SUBATOMIC SUPERNOVA

- djss took the least amount of time to develop out of all the bosses (haz says his fight took about half a year.)

- daim purposely tried to make djss' name as long as he could. he was specifically looking at negasonic teenage warhead from deadpool for inspiration.

- haz and daim do have the briefing/kliffnotes for djss. they discussed sharing them at some point, but idk when that would happen.

- related to the above, daim says that dj is in his mid thirties. EDIT: his kliffnotes were shared on twitter and they say he’s 41. daim must have goofed haha

- when asked if djss actually has a face and how he eats, daim compares it to kenny from south park and how you never see his face. he thinks dj does have a face in there, but that we just never see it. as for the “how does he eat” part, daim says that sometimes they don’t have to show everything.

- daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- daim said that uncle ali basically instantly landed the role as djss. he was that good.

SAYU

- sayu was obviously inspired by hatsune miku and other vocaloids, but haz brings up one particular commercial involving miku and google chrome, which involves a bunch of people collborating on songs and concept art for miku, similar to how sayu started as a collab between remi and tila in-universe.

- someone asked about the models for sayu's crew's apartments. there wasn't much on that, but haz mentions that one of his favourite nsr fanfics (yes, he reads them) is "Road to Redemption," and there's a scene that takes place in a studio where the crew works on sayu, and he really likes that.

- the devs wanted sayu's name to sound both malay and japanese at the same time (as well as a nod to miku). haz says it means “warm water” in japanese.

- akusuka is a direct copy of akihabara in terms of locale.

- sayu’s shellfish commercial is a homage to a real snack in malaysia named mamee monster, which is hugely popular with kids. the format of the commercial itself was inspired by a pocky commercial that featured hatsune miku.

YINU

- her game design (for her boss fight) was partially done in ms paint by music director falk (who made the base version of her boss theme)

- yinu's mom doesn't have a name. she's just mother/mama.

- haz confirmed that yinu's father is, in fact, dead.

- daim thought yinu’s name was a nod to yuna (a popular malaysian artist). it’s not.

- natura is daim’s favourite district. he likes how calm it is compared to the others.

- daim said that they wanted a hint of hope in all three of yinu’s backstory photographs, to show that no matter how bad your life gets, there’s always that glimmer of hope and that good things can still happen.

1010

- the members of 1010 do not have any official names.

- the assets for the autographs were made by the artists at one of the partner companies working with metronomik on nsr. haz and daim didn't really have anything to do with making them, and while daim did approve them for the final game, he was sorta skimming through a bunch of assets along with the autographs, and he didn't realize what they really were at the time until later. haz is impressed with how the fans managed to decipher them.

- 1010's fight was purposefully put between yinu's and eve's as a break from the emotional stuff.

- michael jackson was used as a reference for 1010's animations/moves.

- the Bio Tactical Shield that you get for zuke after beating 1010 is a reference to BTS.

- tangibly related, but the collectable figurines are supposed to serve more as a backstory to vinyl city as a whole, rather than 1010 or neon j. daim describes the figures as what events were going on and what people were doing before the events of nsr.

- 1010’s appearance from older trailers (where they all looked the same) were actually placeholders. 1010’s actual designs weren’t finished yet when those trailers were released.

- parts of 1010’s designs (for their bodies/outfits) were inspired by tron uprising, a project that daim worked on.

- somebody asked why 1010 and neon j have sculpted butt plates. daim and haz have no idea, but daim suggested that ellie (who designed 1010) and jan (who did their character models) put them there to up the “sexy robot” factor.

- daim’s favourite member of 1010 is purl-hew/blue, and haz’s favourite is eloni/green.

- the members of 1010 were designed based on popular tropes in boy bands. rin/white is “the main guy,” zimelu/red is the “bad boy,” purl-hew/blue is the “cool guy,” haym/yellow is the “young/innocent one,” and eloni/green is the “weird/funny one.”

- eloni/green not getting fan mail was based on how the “funny guy” of kpop bands/idol groups don’t seem to get as much attention as the rest of the group.

NEON J

- haz and daim didn't expect neon j to become so popular. haz joked about blaming it on ddaddystar, who did that doodle of djss and neon j from the credits.

- when asked about neon j’s age, daim said he’s definitely older than djss, and that he could be in his forties.

- related to the age thing, someone in chat said he should be older if he went to war in the sixties. haz replied by saying they never mentioned what year the game takes place in, so it doesn’t necessarily take place in the present/2020.

- a lot of people asked about the border wars, and daim and haz said they like leaving the bulk of it up to fan interpretation.

- daim said that neon j’s organs were preserved in a robotic shell after the war, and that’s why he’s considered a cyborg.

- as stated above, daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- neon j’s monologue was slightly longer, but it was cut down because zul (neon j’s va) didn’t do very many takes for the monologue, and the takes he did do didn’t have the comedic punch that daim was looking for, so it got shortened.

- the singing parts of neon j’s lines were ad-libbed by zul in his audition, and daim liked it so much that it stayed for the final game.

- neon j’s monologue had to be altered in the japanese dub so that the jokes/comedy would make more sense.

EVE

- the color changing paintings from her boss fight were created by accident.

- eve was put as the last boss because of how emotional her relationship with zuke was and how complicated and intricate she is as a whole compared to the rest of the bosses.

- daim considers eve to be the "final boss" for zuke, while tatiana is the final boss for mayday.

- eve took the longest to develop out of all the bosses. she was orignally a lot more complicated, and daim said they had to "filter" a lot of things about her in order to tone her down and fit her into the game.

- eve was almost scrapped from the game. daim said her concept as an eccentric artist wasn't as well known as the other four bosses’ concepts, and combine that with how long it took to finalize her... yeah.

- none of the artists have set in stone heights because of how the gameplay works, but eve is the tallest one. the closest scene in the game that has them at their actual heights is the ending.

- her name was originally eva, but it was changed bc there’s already a popular artist with the same name.

- daim explains that a big part of eve’s concept and theme is her embracing herself. he uses the example of eve’s backstory where she starts out hating herself and trying to cover the pink half of her face, but then starts doing less of that overtime. he also mentions that all the body parts (hands, arms, legs, etc.) from her fight also come from her embracing her body and using it in her artwork.

- dream fever is haz’s favourite district.

- daim didn’t originally think of zuke and eve as being an actual couple until later down the line when the story heavily implied it.

- eve’s younger designs were done by lzbros, who did all the 2d animation for the game.

[palbabor-writes]

Lá Bealtaine

Pairing: Choso x Fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of blood, cunnilingus, SMUT, NSFW/18+only, loss of virginity - if you squint, using sex to mask feelings & trauma, mild JJK manga spoilers; but if you’ve seen the anime you’re pretty caught up on this stuff

Word Count: 4732

“Why do you let them––us, stay?”

You lift your head, blinking at his obsidian surveyance. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Not like I put an advertisement on the door: seeking dangerous men and nefarious spirits, inquire within. I’m not wanting to die, you know? Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Name one thing that’s not bad about this,” Choso demands, his tone clipped.

Why? Why does he care? You’re not someone he can save. There’s no room for you. You aren’t family.

“Only one thing? Well, that’s easy,” you continue, the steady lull of your voice jerking him out of his musings. “You.”

Notes: hehe, when i said i had Choso brain rot i was not joking. this dude has been on my mind for weeks, ya’ll. WEEKS. special thanks to @libiraki​ & @kugutsuu​ for beta editing! if you haven’t checked out their works please stop what you are doing & scuttle yourself over there bc you are missing out.

Lá Bealtaine [l̪ˠaː ˈbʲal̪ˠt̪ˠənʲə] 'the bright or yellow day of Beltane' - a time of fire and fertility.

It started with a touch. A simple interaction; but it sticks to the back of his mind and the heat of your hand lingers, a remembrance that he can’t shake.

He’d returned to the dingy bowels of the hideout, boots echoing over the well-worn floor as he made his way to his customary seat; unaware of the blood that oozed from the strip above his nose. Legs and arms are heavy as he slots himself into the chair, his eyes drooping closed as he leans his dark head against the cushions. 

Two weeks.

Choso’s younger brothers were killed two weeks ago. Leaving him alone; adrift in his loss, his failure as an elder brother. The remembrance of them stung in the morning and was an ache by afternoon, but in the night’s darkness it burned.

He will have his chance, he reminds himself, furrowing his brow; seeking the faint traces of the other six who need him to press on, and the hollow twinge of the two who need vengeance. The 31st is only fourteen days away; he can wait. He can–

The pressure of the sudden touch makes him jerk; coal-dark eyes snapping open, searching for the source. You’re standing above him, hand outstretched, the pad of your thumb delicately catching the long forgotten drip of blood against his cheek. 

“You shouldn’t touch that,” he says, voice gruff in the vacant emptiness of the space; but he doesn’t shift, meeting your frank gaze unblinkingly. 

“Oh?” you question, swiping the sullied digit across your pants, tacking the deep crimson into the material of your jeans.

“It’s poison,” Choso clarifies. The spot you’d stroked your thumb down is tingling. Exhaustion, he muses, itching his nails into the thick fabric of his loose pants. He’s imagining it; there’s no other explanation.

“You’re not going with the others?”

What? How can he? They’re dead. Ah, no. He’s not thinking clearly. You don’t mean his brothers; you mean Getō.

“No,” he quips, lifting the back of his hand to his cheek, wanting to quell that spreading warmth that you’ve left him with. 

“Then you don’t need this, right?” You gesture to the mess of game pieces and the forgotten board that is scattered across the low table in front of him. He shakes his head and you begin the steady process of tidying up, collecting the mismatched jumble into your arms, folding the rest into the tattered box before you step away. 

Choso closes his eyes again, steadying his breaths, finding the pulse of the blood that thrums within him. Nothing is out of place. So why does his cheek feel like it’s on fire? There’s no reason for it. Is he this starved for a connection that he’s latching onto the first interaction he receives? 

His onyx eyes follow you as you walk across the matted flooring. You own this space; have struck some kind of deal with Getō and the others, permitting them to come and go, quietly cleaning up their messes, and ducking out of sight when they gather within the confines of the darkness; talking through the plans, the ins and outs of the sealing and the massacre that they hope to spread throughout the underground station of the pre-ordained prefecture. 

In the grand scheme of things you’re nothing. Why waste energy focusing on you? It won’t matter in fourteen days.

The clink of the cup on the table rattles him out of his thoughts and Choso peers into the depths of your clear gaze once more. “What is it?” he queries, running a broad hand down his face, hoping the pull will make him forget the persistent warmth that’s radiating from the spot you’d touched. 

“You look tired. Drink that and get some rest.”

“Giving orders now?”

“Sure,” you grin, cocking your head at Choso’s curled lips and wrinkled nose. “That’s a good one. Like any of you would ever listen to me.”

What’s this called? Self deprecating humor? Well, whatever it is, Choso doesn’t enjoy the brittle tone your voice has drifted into. It doesn’t suit you and that low annoyance that’s been brewing under his skin is coming closer and closer to the surface. His fingers are on the cup before he can properly sort through his mismatched emotions, but he doesn’t miss the lift of your lips when he gulps the scalding tea down his throat. 

Why does he care? You don’t matter. You’re no one to him.

“Easy,” you tut, shaking your head at his sharp gaze. “You’ll burn yourself.”

So? He’d rather feel something burn than linger into the uneasy pull of an ache. 

Choso looks for you when he enters, shifting past the others. You’re tucked toward the back, brows creased and head down. It’s a smart move, but the frightened hunch you’ve adopted bothers him more than it used to.

“We have a few minutes,” Getō announces to the gathering, dark eyes bright as they fall on his impassive face. “And Mahito is always late.”

There’s an implication behind it, but Choso opts to ignore that uneasy instinct, already turning. He’s just going to ask you for tea; that’s all. When you spy him, you smile and that spot on his cheek flares, remembering the sweep of your thumb.

“Lucky you caught me,” you tell him, hands busy with the rattling cups. “I was about to go.”

He narrows his eyes, watching the curve of your neck, the stretch of your fingers, and the uneasy twitch of your shoulders. This sort of existence doesn’t suit you. You’re the antithesis of this; normal, kind, unabashedly human. So why do you… 

“Why do you let them––us, stay?”

You lift your head, blinking at his obsidian surveyance. “What am I supposed to do? Say no? Not like I put an advertisement on the door: seeking dangerous men and nefarious spirits, inquire within. I’m not wanting to die, you know? Besides, it’s not all bad.”

“Name one thing that’s not bad about this,” Choso demands, his tone clipped. 

Why? Why does he care? You’re not someone he can save. There’s no room for you. You aren’t family.

“Only one thing? Well, that’s easy,” you continue, the steady lull of your voice jerking him out of his musings. “You.”

Choso shakes his head, openly scowling at your answer. “Me?” he sputters, sucking his teeth and pressing his clenched fists into the long table that you stand behind. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, pouring the steaming water over the leaves, wafting the fragrant essence of the tea between his clenched jaw and your ducked head. 

“I don’t… that is...I...” Choso begins, but fumbles into silence when he catches sight of your eyes, half hidden behind the sweep of your lashes. It doesn’t make sense. None of this makes sense. “You’re strange,” he finishes, huffing a belabored sigh between his pursed lips, but when you laugh he can’t help a faint smile. 

It will feel disloyal later, that burst of momentary happiness, but right now he doesn’t mind the distraction; cupping the yunomi between his palms, catching your fingers before they can pull away, enjoying the warmth you transude into his chilled hands. 

Nothing holds. Choso knows this better than most. All things, given time, change. It is an inevitability. Something he’s known intrinsically, and clung to, all those years; when the only constant was the beating of his brother’s hearts beside him. But change rarely announces itself, content in its own emergence; the omnipotence of its bite.

Something has shifted. 

“You didn’t go again?” You ask one night, sitting beside him, a cooling mug between your fingertips. 

“Didn’t see the need,” he tells you, an outstretched legs brushing against yours. 

“You’re different… you know that?” A smile hidden within your words. 

“So are you.” He likes that, he thinks. He likes it more than he should.

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

You bite your lip and he watches the press of your teeth, hoping you’ll split the skin. 

“Come closer and I’ll tell you.” You bargain, coyly shaking your head.

“I’m close enough and I don’t like games,” he grumbles, hoping you won’t leave it at that, because while it’s true that he doesn’t like games, he’s enjoying this give and take. 

“Please?”

There’s something intoxicating about that gentle sound and he turns, wordlessly following your crooked finger. He towers over your seated form, but you don’t let that imbalance hang, hands tugging against the white of his shirt, urging him to kneel between your spread legs. When he settles, you curl your fingers against his jaw, smoothing that blistering heat over his icy skin until he’s pressing forward, resting his heavy forehead against yours. 

You’re so warm, he inwardly gasps, his breaths coming in pants. So warm he fears he might grow addicted to this heady intimacy. “What do you want?” Choso asks, the deep timbre of his voice quaking. 

“You.” It’s such a simple answer; how like you.

“I am here,” he replies, half drunk on the feel of your skin.

“Yes, but what if I told you I want more?”

That question casts him into the darkness. He’s unused to this; doesn’t know what to do, what to say; he’s been sealed for so long, too long, and he feels wobbly, lightheaded, but he tries to reach, his fingers grasping at the base of your neck, pulling you toward... toward…

The clatter of the front door startles you both, and he’s on his feet, eyes wild as they look down on your parted lips, and the furrowed confusion of your brow. Your hands are still upturned, waiting for his.

The others step into the space and when he blinks again you’re already gone; your chair vacant, the warmth you’d shared evaporating into the unfeeling cruelty of the chilled air. Shit, Choso curses, grinding his teeth.  

Something has shifted; it will be impossible to tear himself away from you now.

It’s only been a day, but he can’t stop staring at you. He doesn’t hide his blatant gaze, obsidian eyes tracking each step, hungrily snapping to yours each time you come near. You do nothing to lessen this itching want that’s raging within him, leaning close, pressing your hand against his shoulder as you gather the discarded cups that are scattered between them, asking him if there’s anything else he needs, your breath hot against his ear. 

He’s unsure if he likes this. 

But each time you shift away he wants to drag you back. 

When they leave, used to his excuses, and his protestations that as long as the mission doesn’t involve Itadori Yuji or Kugisaki Nobara he’s uninterested, he stands; head turning, searching for you. 

Ah. There you are. 

He’s against you in an instant, stiff hands cupping you, greedy to touch, to hold. You squirm, a laugh bubbling from your lips, swatting his wide palms from the tempting swell of your hips. “What’s gotten into you?” As if you don’t know.

“Tch,” he scolds, “you’ve been toying with me all evening. You said you wanted more yesterday, so show me.”

You breathe out a chuckle, bemused by his enthusiasm and take his hand in yours, leading him down a hallway. He’s never been back here, but he follows, trying to steady the thudding of his heart. Controlling his life’s blood is second nature to him, so why does this feel like it’s a losing battle? 

The room you open is dark, but he can make out the shape of a futon, stark against the mats, and his eyelids flutter, too overwhelmed by the realness of this befuddling situation to look. To distract himself, he pulls you against the slope of his chest, splaying his fingers against the sweep of your collarbone. You twist in his loose hold, folding your arms around his powerful neck.

“Do you still want this?”

Choso unsticks his tongue from the roof of his mouth, gulping down a wavering breath. “I already told you,” he begins, his voice gravel, “show me more. Show me what else you want to do with me.”

“Can I kiss you?” you inquire, dipping your head enticingly, catching his wandering attention, urging him nearer. He doesn’t answer, electing to tap his lips against yours, clumsily pressing until the tip of his nose digs into your cheek. It’s easy to feel your heartbeat like this, and he wraps his arms around your lower back, eliminating the meager distance that was trapped between your heaving chests. 

You let him steady himself, careful to keep your movements slow, but the squish of his face and the jerk of his hands tugs a bated humph of discomfort from you and he breaks away, elegant brows crumpled as he searches for the source of your discontent. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you amend, smiling at his obvious pout. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Hmm?” Choso questions, stroking a palm up your spine, a smirk quirking the corner of his mouth when you draw in a gasp. 

You cup your hands beside his ears, fingers sinking into the dark tangles of his hair as you lure him back to your parted lips. “Open your mouth.”

He does as he’s told and you mold him against you, lapping your tongue over his, earning a shuddering moan and a sharp caress as he coils his hand around your throat. It’s easier this way and Choso steadily follows your lead, mimicking your sucks and teasing bites. Teeth clash when he reaches for more but he eases the sting with a flick of his tongue, and you nibble his lower lip in retaliation, pleased he’s so malleable. 

Your fingers fall to the sash that rests above his stomach and he grunts when you pull at it, easing it away with a stable unwinding. His breaths are heavy against your kiss shined lips, but he keeps perfecting his new found techniques, sweeping chapped skin until it’s worn smooth by the wetness of your tongue. His own hands are preoccupied with your neck and the gentle underside of your jaw, fingertips pressing until you can sense the pound of your heart within his grasp. 

“What are you trying to do?” you ask between his frantic presses. “It’s like you wanna match my pulse, or something.” 

“Worry about yourself,” he grouses, ill-pleased with your answering laugh. “It’s going to take forever if you go that slow.”

You shove your palms against his chest and he stumbles backwards, his booted feet loud against the heavy mats, dark eyes flashing up at yours as his face falls into a deep-seated glower. “What?! What was... why did you…”

His angry retorts melt into nothingness when you fling your shirt over your head, sending the thin fabric fluttering to the ground. The sudden exposure leaves him gaping, unsure of himself once more, but you ease the shock, grasping his limp hand in yours, guiding it over the dip of your stomach, and up the flow of your side. 

“Let’s play fair, huh?” you tease, tapping a kiss to his cheek, careful to land it in the same spot your thumb had touched weeks ago. Choso nods, obsidian eyes wide as his fingers trace over your goose-prickled skin. “Alright, well, it’s your turn.” 

His gaze snaps back to yours, whisking over your face; as if he’s searching for some kind of answer in the lift of your nose, or the plushness of your lips. Whatever it is, he seems to have found it because he ducks his head to yours, resting his brow against the crown of your temple, hands lifting to his own clothing, making quick work of the intricate knots and folds of the fabric.

The gleam of his skin in the moonlight takes your breath away, and you reach for him as he eases the black off of the white, sliding your warmth over the coldness of his bared pectorals. He’s smooth; skin as soft as freshly cleaved talc, or a scattering of downy feathers, and you keep stroking until he’s shaking under your touch, his exhales unsteady against your face. 

“I think I have more blemishes on my fingers and arms than you do on your entire body. You’re so soft,” you tell him, tracing an outspread hand against his muscled abdomen. 

“I’m... this is a new manifestation,” he answers, hoping the strangeness of him, of his half human, half cursed being, won’t drive you away. 

“Hmm,” you nod, pulling him down for another kiss. “It feels nice.”

He’s slow to undress. Not because he doesn’t want to see more of you, he’s simply distracted, too focused on touching what bits of you are revealed; the arc of your hips, the tipped buds of your breasts, and the line of your legs. But you’re like water; slipping through the gaps of his fingers, leaving him wanting, unsatisfied with his fragile hold.

When the last scrap of clothing is off, he waits, his cheeks flushed and mouth dry. “Now what?”

“Do you want me to touch you first?” you ask, that tantalizing smile lifting your lips. 

“No,” he asserts, shaking his dark head. “I want to learn you before that...so show me.”

“You’re very unusual.” Tilting your head as you take his hand, leading him to your futon. “You know that?” you continue, tumbling him over you as you splay across the crisp sheets. 

“Says the woman who is letting me between her legs,” Choso smarts, finding your lips in the gathering darkness. “Stop stalling; show me.”

With a pleased sigh, you reach for his hand again, looping your fingers around his as you guide him to the juncture of your thighs. You work one away from the others, gliding it along the ridges of your folds, showing him how you like to be touched. After his initial gawping and mystified rumblings of, ‘so wet,’ and half croaked, ‘fucks,’ he shifts closer, easing onto his haunches as he curiously follows your lessons.

“There,” he hisses, onyx gaze catching your twitching stomach and jerking hips. “Teach me how to do that.”

You work him to that apex, using your other hand to lift the slippery hood of your clit, showing him how to press and tap against the spongy nub. He’s a quick learner, his eyes falling from yours to watch the flutter and quaver of your cunt. 

“Move your hand,” he tells you, resting his lips against the hollow of your neck, his tongue lapping over your pulse. When you untwine your fingers from his he waits, lips too busy sucking a bruise into your skin; reaching for that unsteady thump of your heart. 

Bump-bump-ba-bump.

Yes. This will do. He’s caught the rhythm; can almost sense the flow of your blood, and see the surge of your clit under his touch.   

The next frig of his digit has you gasping out his name, legs unfurling, knees shaking beside his ribs, your head flopping back onto the futon with a dull thump as you arch into his hold. Choso reapplies the pressure, adding the pad of his thumb, leaving it opposite his seeking forefinger, squeezing until you’re clawing your blunt nails down the sheets. 

“You look good like this,” he smirks, looming over your heaving figure, licking his wet tongue along the valley of your breasts. “What else can you show me?”

Your fingers’ grip into his hair and you yank him from you, one brow delicately arched as you take in his irascible scowl. “You could put your mouth to better use…”

There’s no need to elaborate, and he’s wedged between your thighs before you can fully blink, ravenous lips slurping kisses and bites into the tender skin; he’s asking another question, but you can’t hear when he’s touching you like that, his fingers doggedly pressing at your clit, jerking more moans from your throat. 

“Wh-what?” you ask, breath stolen before it’s past your quivering mouth.

“I said,” Choso pants, lifting his inky head and fixing you with a dazed stare. “I can feel your heartbeat.” 

“Does that matter?” you laugh, popping onto your elbows to regard him inquisitively. 

“It helps,” he answers cryptically and you jab your toes against his arm.

“Helps with what?”

“You’ll see. Do you care if I experiment?” He lifts his fingers from you, sucking the dripping pads into his mouth as he waits for your answer.

“Knock yourself out,” you gape, biting your lip between your teeth.

His dark eyes glaze before he averts them, an appreciative smile gentling his sharp features. “Good,” he replies, easing one bent leg over his broad shoulder, sparing you a last glance before sealing his lips to your throbbing folds.

It starts slowly; a deep shudder that seems to radiate from your core before pooling against your extremities, making your fingers twitch and your muscles spasm incrementally. But Choso is mindful of the power that he’s found, and he eases you onto his tongue, helping you to relax with steady sucks, avoiding that all important button that is distending above his nose. He can almost hear the rush of your blood, can sense where to press with each swell of your slick folds, and he follows unquestionably; pleased he can lose himself in this, in you.

He taps his thumb against your entrance, eyes opening, searching over the curve of your breasts to see you, to watch what kind of expression you’ll make when he finally breaches this boundary. The sheer heat of you takes him aback, and he groans, his low voice vibrating over your twitching cunt, and you reward his elation with another moan, his name falling from your lips. 

What is this? 

He’s drowning and all he’s done is taste you. Will he die if this goes further? Or will it burn? Lapping away the remnants of his regret until there’s nothing left of him but splintered bone. 

“Choso,” you breathe, fingers latching into his wayward hair. “More, please… it’s not enough.”

He rotates his thumb before easing it out, making room for the wide push of his index finger, tongue lifting to swirl around the pulsing nub of your clit, and teeth grazing until you’re squirming.

“There!” you cry out, bucking into his open mouth. “Oh, god… I... I can’t––”

Something inside you shudders. He can feel it in the comforting thump of your heart and it makes him clutch you to him, his own hips rutting against the edge of the futon as he finds himself awash in the sheer intoxication of you. 

Fuck. Is it supposed to feel like this? Like he’s half himself and half you? Or is he simply drunk on the rush of your blood?

Your cunt sucks his finger deeper, gummy walls pulsing in time with your heart as he gulps down your essence, tongue greedily catching it before it has time to drip onto his upturned wrist. It’s good. It tastes so fucking good. 

He’s so winded by the sensations that he barely notices you pulling from him, his dark head lolling over the crinkled sheets, an inaudible moan slipping between his clenched teeth. Choso doesn’t resist when you ease him upward, warm fingers tracing up his heaving body as you press him onto his back. Only when you press a kiss to his fevered temple does he find himself, eyes bleary in the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, straddling his hips, your hand reaching for his straining cock, palming some of the leaking pre-cum over your fingers as you stroke him. “I can’t wait… I want you… can I? Choso?” 

This part will burn, he thinks, helping you to hold yourself steady, eyes slipping closed when he feels the slick heat of you gliding teasingly over his tip. When you sink down, his back arches, and he hopes that the whispering shadows, the lingering remnants of his guilt, will be tossed onto this fire you’re stoking. Your hips still when they reach his base, legs twitching around him, your nails catching against his smooth skin, working nicks into the clean slate. 

You’re clutching onto him like he’s the only thing tethering you down, and he opens his shuttered eyes to watch, hoping he can glimpse you past the smoldering of his want. You’re beautiful, he thinks, hand lifting from your hips to fiddle with the necklace that sits around your neck, admiring the glint of metal in the gloom. 

He wishes he could see more, that he could wait a little longer, but he wants to put an end to this ache; he wants to burn.

The lift of your knees leaves both of you gasping, and Choso stifles a moan, legs tensing restlessly under the steady push and pull you’re establishing over him. It’s so warm inside you, and he can feel the thrum of your blood again, so he tries to match his to yours, controlling his pulse, right down to the multiplicity of his cells, eager to feel that potent tug of release once more. 

“Does it feel good?” you ask, leaning back so he can admire his engorged cock as it plunges in and out of your sodden pussy. 

“Do you have to ask?” he grunts, lifting a hand to your breast, tweaking the tender bud of your peaked nipple between the knuckles of his fingers. 

When you call out his name again, he snatches you to him, dragging you to his parted lips as he digs his heels into the futon, rutting into you until you’re squelching lewdly around his pistoning cock. The world feels like it’s narrowing; the shadows lessening as he engulfs himself in you, his teeth working bruises into your neck, your shoulder, the tops of your breasts, anywhere he can reach; but it’s not enough. 

With a huffed groan he’s gathering you into his arms, robust thighs helping him to flip you onto your back, hands splitting your legs as he drives himself back into your welcoming heat. It’s deeper in this position. He can feel more of your twitches and pulsations as he steadies his arms beside your ears, bracing himself over your prostrate form. 

“You want me to touch you again, don’t you?” he asks, voice broken. “Do you want me to touch your clit? Will that make you cum for me? Will it?”

“I-I can do it,” you gasp, easing your fingers between your grinding bodies, knees spreading so he can watch. “Tell me when,” you murmur, head dropping as you arch, slipping him further.

“Now,” he moans, grabbing your jaw, forcing your lips to his as he slams his cock into you, setting himself alight; easing the incessant tug of his guilt until it’s a blunted thrum resting close to his heart. 

When you shatter around him, he follows, wholly caught in the ebb and flow of his release; lost in the depths of this unsteady solution.

He stays with you through the night, eyes following the line of your body as you sleep. His hands are cold, he thinks, easing them beside you, but not for much longer. 

The 31st is only four days away.

“Did he question you? Ask you for anything?” Getō’s words are lanced with care, his voice honey sweet as he steeples his fingers, peering at you with an avariciousness that makes you shake.

“He didn’t. I doubt it will happen again. I didn’t...I don’t want to...to… hurt––”

“What? Hurt him? He’s a half-breed monster. His feelings don’t come into this. Nor should yours; you have a family to think of, a mother who’s an invalid, a younger brother who can’t be depended upon, a father who’s a drunkard; too far gone to notice, or care, his eldest is missing; hasn’t attended her college classes in weeks... and your sister. Well, she’s still a child... much too young to suffer from your mistakes, don’t you think?”

“You’re the monster,” you grit, hands folded into your lap, nails pressing until blood wells under your fingertips. 

“Perhaps,” he smiles. “We’ll be out of your way soon enough. Let me know if you show any signs of impregnation, would you? Any spawn you whelp will be useful; very useful indeed.”

notes: i was gonna name this something else, and i know the dates i am describing don’t match with the sabbat, but Beltane felt like a smoother fit.