011. CARNATIONS

014. CARNATIONS

You're sulking, limbs splayed over the couch as you resort to eating nothing but ice cream, all while wrapped in bundles of blankets and pillows. You stab at the container angrily, practically shoveling the copious amounts of 'Fudge Fantasy!' into your mouth like you were being starved.

A pout forms on your lips, and your appetite vanishes the moment you watch the pining lovers on your TV screen kiss—a feeling of hurt forms in your stomach as you turn off the movie. You wince as you pry yourself from the couch, muscles aching from being curled up into a pitiful ball for too long.

You walk over to the kitchen, putting the ice cream away in the freezer and sitting down on one of the kitchen's chairs. Most of the lights in your apartment were off, and only a small and warm glow came from the lamp beside your couch. You press your cheek against the cold surface of the island, sighing.

Your lips quirk up a bit as you take in the state of your living room. You'd carried most of your plushies from your room to the living room for a movie night—and maybe for some emotional support. You'd even built a little blanket fort for yourself. Yes, it was childish. But it got your mind off of Touya for a while.

Your feet curl uncomfortably at the mere thought of him as a frown suddenly settles on your face, and you can only sink further into your seat with a groan. You've been moping around for the past three days, ordering groceries to your door and not leaving your apartment for anything at all.

You were unemployed now. Thankfully, your savings account could keep you comfortably afloat for a while. But that money wouldn't last forever—and job searching would have to start up at some point.

But right now, you can't even find the strength to reply to your supervisor's emails. She needs you to come back to the hospital, since there were a few more things that needed to be finalized. A few more loose ends that need to be tied and put aside to collect dust.

Something soft nudges your cheek, and Tora stands over you with a curious glint in his eyes. The cat nudges his nose against yours before settling down onto the island counter beside you, curling up onto the table and purring quietly as he lays on his stomach.

Tora had an odd sense of noticing when you were unhappy. He was an attentive little cat, with dark fur and a glittering pair of golden eyes. You run a palm over his back carefully, smiling as he eases under your touch.

You eventually hop off of the chair and walk around your apartment in deep thought. The movement was necessary to give your muscles some breathing room, and it also gave you a chance to try and accept all that had happened in the past few days. Tora trailed behind you, following you around like a shadow with quick and curious steps.

It was hard trying to make sense of all that had happened. The thought of Touya getting a new doctor, one that would help him complete the last bit of his journey at the hospital, was just something you couldn't really believe yet.

There would be someone else spending their days with him. Someone else taking care of him, someone else listening to his late night thoughts, someone else sharing his favorite meals with him—someone else loving him. And there's a voice in the back of your head, screaming that should be you. But you know it was your own choices that made it someone else’s role now.

You settle back into your heap of blankets on the couch, and Tora follows. There's a sense of trepidation creeping up your spine—a small, prickling fear that felt like a hundred needles prodding and poking at your skin. It didn't feel right, not being by Touya's side as he went through the last few months of his recovery.

He was nearly done with all of his surgeries. You wouldn't be able to see him again until his rehabilitation plan was over. Any contact with him was forbidden. The reality of his obvious attachment issues was heart breaking, and the look on his face when you left him hadn't left your mind since you'd seen it.

There was something devastating about the way his voice hitched when he pleaded for you to stay with him—about that way his fingers trembled as he held his head in his hands and fought his own mind to keep himself together, unable to accept the fact that good things can't last forever—they never did for him, anyway.

You didn't even realize you were crying until Tora meowed quietly, pawing at your chest as his little head poked underneath the hem of your shirt. He performs his favorite ritual—one he knows always makes you laugh—as he crawled up your shirt and poked his head out of the loose opening of your shirt. You peer down at your cuddly companion, managing a tearful laugh as you tug him out.

It was snowing again, and your laptop dings quietly with yet another email. The apartment is quiet, beside the soft sound of your labored breathing. Tora's eyes drifted close eventually, and you allowed him to sleep as you quietly walked towards your laptop.

Fourteen unread emails. You decide to open the most recent one—because the title 'Touya's new psychiatrist' catches your attention wholly within an instant.

You read over the email quietly, soft sounds of disappointment and sighs leaving your lips every few minutes. It's near the bottom of the email when you realize you had a meeting scheduled tomorrow at the hospital.

You had to be the one to chose Touya's new psychiatrist. No one understood Touya's psyche better than you, you'd been with him for many months and understood his mentality better than everyone. In order for him to get a new doctor according to procedure, you would need to be a part of the decision making process.

But you didn't want Touya to get a new doctor. Maybe it was selfish, but you just wanted to take care of him all by yourself.

Finding someone deserving enough of taking care of him would be a tedious task. Touya needed someone loving, someone who could take care of him, and someone who wouldn't let him down. Your back straightens a bit in determination. You had let Touya down once, but you were not going to do it again.

You were going to find a good doctor for him. No matter how many people you had to go through, how long it took—even if you had to call in options from neighboring hospitals—you would not allow just anyone to take care of him.

Touya deserved someone good. He deserved you, yes. But he couldn't have you.

You would just have to find the next best thing.

Walking into your former work place after being fired wasn't a pleasant feeling. The stares you received were obvious, and they were all from people you used to work with. Your eyes remain on the ground in silent shame, and it felt like you had a rain cloud hanging over your head with every step you took.

"Y/n," Your supervisor calls out, and your back tenses before you turn around to meet her gaze. Her eyes are a bit tired as she greets you, and you follow her quietly as she leads you into her office. The first candidate sits in a seat across her desk. She ushers you into the room, gently chastising you for being late.

And you want to tell her you'd actually gotten to the hospital early, but you'd caught sight of Touya's hospital room window from the parking lot and noticed someone had taken down the snowflakes that once hung on the glass. You'd wasted half an hour in your car crying—because Touya was so close, only a few floors up, and the thought has your heart seizing painfully in your chest.

You sit across the doctor, and it begins. You interviewed three women and five men today. And every single one you'd crossed off as unsuitable on your papers.

They were all biased. Each and every single one had the same look in their eye when you mentioned the name Dabi. This look of distaste, this look of disgust. Their words came out sugary and sweet, reverent, even. But their eyes betrayed their true feelings. And you can't blame them, because Touya was known throughout all of Japan as a monster.

Day after day, the cycle became tiring. Doctor after doctor, you can't do it. The stress was eating away at you, your savings account was dwindling away, and you still haven't built up the courage to face the Todoroki family.

It was on the seventh day of searching that your supervisor seemed fed up.

"You cannot reject every single doctor that comes in here, Y/n."

You shift uncomfortably in your seat as you sigh, unsure of how to respond. If she notices the bags under your eyes, or how your shoulders slump with tiredness, she doesn't say anything.

"Touya deserves someone who sees his mistakes and understands his past. Someone kind and forgiving." You murmur, tugging your knees to your chest as you sigh quietly, tracing circles on the arm rest of your chair as your supervisor's lips set into a thin line.

She's silent for a moment, watching you contemplatively before speaking up.

"Rei Todoroki contacted me yesterday. A while after you left, she said she...she has someone who she believes can help Touya."

Your hand stills at the mention of Rei's name. You swallow down the hurt expanding in your chest—snuffing it out for the sake of Touya as you nod slowly, eyes dull and voice exhausted.

"Who is it? And—can I meet them?"

"You can. I've already contacted her for a meeting I've arranged for tomorrow. But I'm afraid if you don't agree with Rei's suggestion—then the board will choose a doctor for Touya instead."

You can feel the incoming headache, a result of keeping your tears at bay and refusing to let them flow. Your nod is stiff, and you decide you'll sleep early tonight. You need a clear mind to meet your seemingly last option tomorrow. Because if this doctor wasn't a good option for Touya—

You crush the thought in an instant. She had to be. If Rei recommended her, then you should be able to trust this woman.

So why do you feel so uneasy?

"Y/n," Your supervisor says calmly, placing a hand on your shoulder as you turn to look at her. She seemed to be at ease, for some reason. Like she trusted Rei's judgement and supported her choice already. And you want to ask her just how she trusts someone she hasn't even met yet with Touya's heart and fragile state, but her next words explain it all.

"It's the same woman who treated Rei. The same woman who took care of her when she was admitted."

The shift in your express is palpable. You obviously weren't aware that Rei had been admitted into a hospital herself. But your hand curls into a fist of disappointment, not exactly surprised that Enji's abuse managed to damage her mental health too. He had certainly done a good job of hiding the truth of his family all those years he spent in the spotlight, and the thought makes you grind your teeth in frustration.

"I see."

Your supervisor's nod is curt and final, pleased that you've agreed to this one thing. You leave the hospital with a heavy heart, spent and tired. You're not even sure how you managed to drive home, but you stumble into your apartment, not bothering to change as you collapse onto your bed with nothing but sheer exhaustion.

You'd woken up nearly three times that night, struggling to fall back asleep. You ended up on the floor at some point too, trying to find a reprieve while tossing and turning, wondering why sleep wouldn't envelop you in her blissful embrace.

In sleep, maybe you could escape your reality. In sleep, maybe you could avoid Touya. But he followed you, trailed you and refused to disappear. He showed up in your dreams, he showed up in your thoughts during the most mundane tasks, and you nearly dropped your breakfast bowl this morning because your plants casted a shadow on the wall that looked like his silhouette.

Touya was haunting you.

And you don't even want to think of his state back at the hospital, you won't allow yourself to. You spend the morning cleaning your entire apartment, and slotting some time in the day to look for some jobs online before you head to the hospital in the evening for your meeting.

Tora doesn't mind your clinginess. He lets you cuddle him and smother him in kisses, even though he was usually grumpy and opposed to too much affection. He indulged in you today, and that cheered you up a bit.

Currently, you're sitting on your couch and sipping on a warm cup of hot chocolate. The snow falls quietly outside, and with Tora curled up in your lap—you scroll through the various job listings online.

With your education, you could find a good job. You weren't going to try and apply to be a psychiatrist due to obvious reasons, but maybe you could try something new. It was a shot in the dark, but it was something.

Your doorbell rings, and the sound ricochets off the walls as you sit up. Tora hops off of your lap, meowing loudly in protest at the intrusion before he scurries off. You shake your head with a soft smile at his antics, before walking towards the door.

You're not sure who's on the other side. It could be the groceries you ordered, or maybe Tora's new toys—so you get on your tippy toes, All Might socks stretched taut from the action as you peek through the peephole.

You stagger backwards at the sight on the other side, physically feeling all the air be strung out of your lungs in an instant. Your hands are clammy as you carefully step away from the door. You don't know what he is doing here, but you open the door after another second—eyes hard and angry.

Enji Todoroki stands on the other side. Something flashes on his face with how quickly you open the door and the look on your face, but he bows his head immediately in greeting either way. There's a bouquet of flowers in his hands, and he holds them in a death grip, knuckles paling.

"Y/n, may I come in?" He questions, voice low and—was that guilt in his tone? You waver in the doorway, unsure. Your eyes are unblinking as you watch him keep his head down, waiting for your answer.

He hurt Touya, he hurt Rei, he hurt Natsuo, he hurt Fuyumi, he hurt Shoto, and he hurt you.

Enji can sense your hesitation and he sighs, nodding in understanding as his grip tightens on the bouquet. You watch the flower stems bend, nearly snapping as he squeezes his eyes shut in frustration.

You're too afraid to move. His body is tense, every muscle is. You're half afraid he's about to hit you and half afraid he was about to burst into tears.

"I'm sorry,"

"I understand I'm not wanted. I've left Rei and the children the house, I pay for it so they can all live comfortably together. I've accepted their disapproval—I understand it. But I need to mend my relationship with Touya. He's—He's the only thing keeping me going right now. I just want him to go home, and I can't leave him anymore. I can't."

Enji rests his head on the door frame, his grip on the flowers limp now. There's a soft purr sounding through the air, and he furrows his brows before glancing down and seeing your cat poking out between your legs—he notices your All Might socks, too.

He sighs, pushing himself off of the door frame when you don't say anything. He takes a step back, before he finally notices you've been holding the door wide open and were waiting for him to step inside the entire time.

"I have a few things I need to talk to you about. You can leave after, okay?"

Enji blinks in disbelief before nodding with a small grunt. He enters your apartment, shoulders sagging as his gaze flitters around. You wonder if it's because he thinks your living space is small—but brush off the prospect. That's not important right now. You needed to get some clear points about Touya across—this was your chance to help Touya, even if it was indirectly. He gives you the flowers, wincing as he realizes he was holding onto them a little too tightly. Your small smile eases some of his embarrassment, and you lead him to the living room shortly after.

It took Enji a long time to open up—the shell he had over himself was unbreakable, but you managed to get inside. Putting aside your patients' past and mistakes was something you were used to doing by now, but it was still difficult to talk to Enji after all he'd done.

When Enji spoke about Touya, he was more soft spoken. The usual bite in his tone vanished, like the sun disappearing on a cloudy day. You try to muster up the strength to be angry at him—to kick him out and slap him and tell him you never want to see his face again. But you can't, because when Enji looks at you—you see Touya's eyes.

He leaves after a few hours. It felt like the world stopped when he'd stepped into your home, and started all over again as he left. His posture was more relaxed as he muttered a quiet goodbye, and left.

Your conversation with Enji was... eye opening. Getting a glimpse into his mind was overwhelming, but at least now you managed to see his tainted view a little clearer. You sigh as you turn to look at the darkening sky outside, the stars twinkled in the dim light and you stand up, stretching a bit before your eyes catch sight of your laptop.

Shit. You'd missed today's meeting.

You're calling your supervisor moments later—apologizing profusely the moment she picks up for forgetting, begging to reschedule, and stuttering because you're strained and stressed and struggling terribly to form a single, coherent sentence.

"It's okay, Y/n. I took the meeting myself, okay? She's a good fit for Touya. You should...get some rest. Please."

She hangs up after that, and you lower the phone from your ear slowly. You can feel the lump in your throat forming, the burn behind your eyes intensifying as you take a steadying breath.

You try to use your breathing practices—but you can't remember them, dammit. Did you hold your breath for five seconds or ten? Were you supposed to be counting your heart beats for this exercise? Or was that for another one?

You're too tired to cry. Too tired to try and make sense of everything around you when it was anything but. It was complete discord everywhere you turned—everything was wrong. So very wrong.

There's nothing you can do but sleep. You stagger over to your bed, the blood in your body felt like it had been replaced with sand, weighing you down with every step you took. You slip into unconsciousness the moment your head hits the pillow.

But you just dream of him, again. You always do.

CARNATIONS MASTERLIST.

a/n; touya meets his new doctor next chapter :) also, y/n wearing all might socks in front of enji is how she rebels :P

tags!

@kawaiidemoneart @porusuniverse @starrmage @lilbeatlebear @bokukenmakuroo

@summercreolefanfictioner @dija200 @phtmmsqrde @sunaraii

@c-lunette @gh0stgirl333 @skullkittens @gurl-pls-evn-the-sharks-fear-me

@hawkwithsocks @suresnips @sugurusmoon @matchablossomsss @moonlitmorganite

@redr0sewrites @muimuiwisteria @sukunaspillow @starsryi

@eidolonwriter @dabislittlemouse @rueclfer @kelin-is-writing

@shugs1801 @imaginationmess

@lasa27 @sophiathefrog @etaerealboy @kooromin @sourbbyxo

@hvnares @ephmeraloblivion @lost-seraphiim @quokka-ina @jesuschrist2006

@stoned-anime-babe @qatiee @shadowsingers-redhood @alycat171

@21-princess

@xileonaaaa @rylerboi @blurryperrtymoonlight @mrcleans4headwrinkle @accidentpronedork

@exquisitenesss @miniatureempathknightpony @afterlife11

too far too close.

pairing: shinsou hitoshi x gn!reader

word count: 2k or sum like that lmao

content warnings: 18+ (minors i will snitch on you to your parents im not kidding), established relationship, aged-up characters (like 19 or 20, old enough to live together on their own), heavy petting, male masturbation, handjob (m receiving), ejaculation, cum eating, voyeurism (kinda??? idfk atp i was just horny and letting my fingers type shit), kinda very super duper sweet soft dom shinsou???? not rlly, but if u squint (there aren’t actual power dynaimcs), afab reader but no pronouns used, one “good girl”, multiple “baby’s”, mentions of marriage, mentions of pregnancy, AFTERCARE, mentions of family, shinsou and reader are whipped for each other like down bad horrendously for each other, not proofread

authors note: hey 🧍🏾‍♀️long time no talk, i haven’t wanted to write in a long time and im not good at it LMAOAOAKSKJSS this is very self-indulgent idk how i wrote this ive never done this before but i want to so bad and shinsou would eat that shit up so. i wrote this for him. and me. we. yeah. i hope yall enjoy this utter fucking garbage and filth like this is actually disgusting. if something doesn't make sense it not my fucking fault LMAOOOOOOOOO. this is the song the fic was based off of. HAPPY READING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! constructive criticism welcomed, reblogs appreciated :333

“you wanna what?”

your boyfriend stares at you in confusion, cheeks rosy, lips red, and hair more wild than normal from smothering your face with his just a minute prior to your sudden question or rather, your strained statement.

“ugh,” you reply, hands flying up to your face to shield you from further embarrassment, “i knew i shouldn’t have said anything.”

hitoshi adjusts himself, sitting up a bit further on the couch and you jostle slightly in his lap as the result of his actions.

“no, no baby, i didn’t mean it like that,” he rebuts, grabbing your wrists to pull your hands from your face. he’s too met with rosy wet lips and flushed cheeks as well as a mild pout. he tries to make eye contact with you, but you focus on things around your apartment instead. hmm, the trash looks full. maybe you should take it out later, and oh! the dishes need to be washed as well. oh, look what’s on tv! you’ve been meaning to get around to watchin-

“baby,” histoshi breaks you from your wandering thoughts and brings both of your hands to his lips to kiss them, “it’s okay,” he says in between kisses, “i was just wondering why is all.”

your eyes snap back to his briefly, then back to fluttering around the apartment, trying to stall and think of an answer that would logically make the most sense.

“well i,” you say, biting your lip between words, “i like seeing you feel good. and you feel good when doing that, right?”

hitoshi hums, kissing about both of your hands, up and down both palms, across each finger, down to your wrists.

“the thought of watching me jerk off turns you on that much? seriously?” he asks, a teasing smirk spreading across his face and you drop your head to the crook of his neck, where his shoulder and collarbone meet.

“you are not making me feel better,” you groan, “i thought we were supposed to be open with each other about these things”

“we are and im glad you told me,” he says, letting go of your wrists and wrapping his arms around your back. “it’s just my job to tease you as your boyfriend.”

you sit up and gift him with a smack across his chest which elicits a chuckle from him. he closes the space between you two and locks his lips with yours, you sighing into the kiss and bringing your hands up to run your fingers through the hairs at the nape of his neck.

the two of you kiss for a while, slowly grinding and whining in response to your growing need for each other. he was so hot and he made you hot and you could never be able to get enough of him.

hitoshi is the one to pull away softly, a soft smack sounding throughout the living room, a thick string of saliva connecting the two of you, “fuck, okay, okay. you wanna see me feel good, yeah?” he asks, eyes heavy and out of breath. “yeah,” you reply, nodding and biting your lip.

“okay,” he says again, giving you a quick peck on your lips before straightening his posture against the back of the couch once more. you move to lift off his lap, intending to take a seat on the soft rug atop the hard cherry wood floor of your living room, but histoshi grabs the meat of your sides before you can fully unmount him.

“i want you to stay here,” hitoshi says, positioning you against his hard length.

you drop your forehead to meet against his, sticky with sweat.

“okay,” you whisper, breath fanning across his face. he hums, agreeing with nothing in particular that you said, simply enjoying the presence of your voice.

he removes a hand from your waist, struggling to shimmy both his joggers and boxers down his legs devoid of his other arm, it having a mind of its own, working itself underneath his (yours) sweater.

you lift up a bit onto your knees to make the process a little easier for him, his head resting between the valley of your breasts. he takes his time working his bottoms down his legs, his other arm caressing the canvas of ur back underneath your (his) oversized sweater. u card ur fingers through his hair as he takes his time partially undressing.

normally, you’d be much more impatient and needy with him, but there was something different about this exchange between you two. this had been sitting heavy on your mind for a while. i mean you always loved jerking him off before giving him the suck of his life, but this was different. he’d never done it in front of you, there was never a need to. he was always hard and ready whenever the time called for it.

you knew he’d done it to the thought of you. he’d told you in passing once, before one of your shared classes.

“i don’t need porn anymore, i have you,” he’d stated blankly, like there was nothing wrong with what he said (there wasn’t, he was just more open than you sometimes).

“oh, okay,” you reply, not sure how to respond.

you were flattered to hear as much, but what really got you hot and bothered was the thought of him doing it. shirt clenched between his teeth, rapidly working his hand up and down his thick cock, needy for release. and ever since you’d been meaning to getting around to asking him to let you see it.

thank god he loves you so much. the bastard actually got turned of by the thought of you watching him as well. what a cawinky dink.

his joggers and underwear finally pool around his ankles and you slowly lower yourself back onto his lap, spreading your legs a little wider. he stares at you, eyes dripping with hunger as he undresses you with just a look.

you pull a little on his hair at the nape of his neck, eliciting a soft whimper from him. his dick, fully erect and raging red at the tip, jumps from the sensation as well, smearing pre cum against his bare stomach.

its weird to see him like this. you’d normally do things like this in the dark and enclosed in your shared bedroom but this was different; orange and pink light spilled from the sheer curtain-covered balcony windows in the living room, lighting everything up properly. there was no room for him to be shy (not that he would be any way).

his happy trail caught the light perfectly, leading down to his crotch, his pubic hair trimmed but not completely shaven. his dick spills more precum, sparkling in the light.

you drop your head back into the crook of hitoshis shoulder, unable to fight the embarrassment from ogling his dick so intensely. 

“you asked me to do this and you’re more embarrassed than me?” he laughs, pulling you up to meet his gaze once more.

“it's not every day im having a staring contest with ur dick hitoshi,” you reply, eyeing him with slight annoyance, “it's just… out… looking at me… all intense like and shit.”

he shakes his head, huffs out a breathless laugh and smiles before pulling you into a quick chaste kiss. when you separate, he brings his left hand up to your face, “spit,” he commands, a tone of bass in his voice, and you comply, building up a nice amount in your mouth before letting it slowly pool into his hand.

“good girl,” he praises, caressing your cheek with his free hand before bringing his other down to his dick.

you're the first to break eye contact, following his hand go to smear your spit over his already wet dick.  

the noise it makes is absurd and you can’t help but moan at his action, squeezing his hips with your knees in hopes of calming down your pussy. you can feel yourself growing hotter by the minute, pussy growing wetter by the second.

“did that make you feel good?” your boyfriend murmurs. that teasing bitch.

nonetheless, you nod, mouth slightly agape, your eyes not meeting his eyesight, but rather staring at his hand fist at his dick, a disgusting slick slick slick rhythm sounding about the living room.

in a way, it was beautiful, the way he fucked his glistening dick with his hand in the golden time of the day. every other stroke, he’d grip his dick firmly, foreskin slowly rolling over his tip, precum mixed with ur spit settling in the small concave space at the tip, making u cream more and more in your bottoms.

this fucker really knew how to please you. what a sweetheart.

“oh fuck,” he wheezes, free hand flying up to grip his hair. he’d found a nice rhythm, speeding up and slowing down, sometimes taking a break from working his shaft to rub his tip with one finger, staying right on the edge.

at this point, you’re squirming all about his lap, unable to contain your need for him. when he moans, you moan. when he gasps, you gasp. when he stops, you try to stop grinding on him, but you have a little less self-control than he does.

he starts and stops again, dick red from all the agitation. you whine from the lost contact, eager to see him continue fucking himself.

“can you do something for me?” he asks, bringing his face up to yours, rubbing his nose lightly across your cheek.

“anything you want,” you whisper against his lips, eyes heavy and breathing hard. you hope he can’t smell the onions from your late lunch. that’d be embarrassing.

“give me your hand,” he says, reaching out for your right hand. he grabs it and his hand feels kinda gross against yours, cold and wet from the lost contact of his dick. 

instead of watching him guide your hand to his dick, this time your eyes stay glued to his, a new sudden confidence flowing through your body.

sometimes, he’d made you feel small with this type of look, eyes unwavering, never shifting from your form. he’d always made you feel shy, his presence suffocating in a way.

but other times, its made you feel so loved the look of want smothering you up to your chin. what does one crave if not wanting to be wanted?

he closes your fist around his dick, your hand encompassed in his larger one, guiding you on how to pleasure him.

“go slow, ill lead,” he says and you nod, still staring at him.

he squeezes his fist around yours, tightening your grip around his length before slowly bringing it down to the bottom of his shaft, his tufts of purple pubic hair tickling your hand before pulling your hands back up to the tip. his foreskin moves with the motion, stretching and tightening around his dick.

your mouth waters at the image displayed of what the sight could look like, but you’d be damned if you lost the game against your boyfriend so you hold his gaze despite your want to watch you pleasure him.

he builds up a rhythm again, this time a deeper slurk slurk slurk sounding about the space. your mouth waters more as he whimpers, louder and more frequent the more you jerk him off. his eyelids sit heavy but still on you, meeting your level of competitiveness. 

he pants, almost like a dog, voice reverberating off the walls and breathing pattern matching the rhythm of your shared strokes on his cock.

awe shit, awe fuck. you want to put him in your mouth and swallow his load, you want him to fuck you softly into the couch, you want to feel him everywhere. you wanted him to give you his babies. raise a family. grow old with him. love him. awe fuck, awe shit.

“does that feel good baby?” you mew, panting in desire. he nods rapidly, eyebrows drawn to a point, mind too clouded with lust to muster up a verbal answer.

you tighten your pointer finger and thumb just slightly as he brings your hands back up to the tip. he jerks forward slightly, but keeps your gaze, groans falling from his mouth. you take you free hand and cup it under his balls, pulling up against them slightly, adding just that much more pressure.

that seems to be what sets him off. 

hitoshis eyes squeeze shut and his jaw slacks agape as he moans out “oh fuck, oh baby, oh fuck fuck fuck fuck, im gonna cum. thank you, thank you-“

he keeps the pace going before his stomach hollows and his thighs tense, slowly jerking his foreskin around his tip with your hand, and letting his head fall back against the couch.

he spurts hot cum from his angry red dick, it splatting across his chest and stomach, across your (his) sweater, and onto your thighs. he still works your hand and his up and down his softening dick, cum oozing down your hands and across your fingers, a squelch squelch squelch gracing your ears.

soon he brings your joined hands to a stop, and sighs, head lolling to the side on the back of the brown couch, eyes still closed, a small smile on his face.

he lets go of your hand, his dick, now shrunken and soft, flopping on his messy stomach. you move to wipe his spend mixed with your spit on your (HIS!!) already soiled sweater but he brings his own hand up to his mouth before licking it, bottom of his palm up the side to the tip of his finger. he pries his eyes open, immediately finding yours before removing his finger from his mouth with a pop.

“tastes good. wanna taste?” he asks and like always, you nod.

he slowly rises from the back of the couch, grabbing your face with his hands, pulling you into a deep, sweet kiss. it was an odd taste, almost like the sour cream water before you mix it up, but if it was from hitoshi, then you’d always ask for more.

you separate with a smack and you smile. he smiles back.

“you like it?” he asks, and you nod.

“toshi’ juice tastes good.”

“good. don’t ever say that stupid shit again.”

you laugh and he sticks his forehead to yours, both slick and sweat.

“where did you learn how to do that?” he questions softly. you giggle, shrugging and pulling him into another kiss, his lips soft and fitting like a puzzle piece against yours, “i told you, i’ve had a lotta time to think about it.”

“i cant wait to marry you,” he whispers, eyes crossing slightly in a post-coital haze of love and lust. you smile harder and let your head fall into the crook of his neck yet again.

“when did that turn into a competition?” you mutter, voice vibrating against his neck and sending shivers down his spine. he lets out a small groan and you smile so hard, your cheeks start to burn.

“you started it,” he accuses and you simply shake your head, “and i ended it too,”

he laughs, airy and wonderful before pressing the tip of his nose to your neck, breathing in your scent.

you let your brain fog over for a bit after such an intense emotional and physical exchange. what were you gonna make for dinner? you still had to wash the dishes from lunch. and take out the trash. and now you both are all dirty and sweaty and smelly. maybe you could shower together after some rest? thank god the couch is pleather. it would be a bitch to clean the cum off of if otherwise.

“i didn’t get you to come yet,” he reminds you, your mind hazed over with sleepiness. you hum, nuzzling further into his neck, “that’s okay. i know you’ll make it up to me.”

he kisses your neck and hums in agreement, suckling at different parts of it, leaving red marks in his lips. “i'll wake you up in a little while so we can get dinner ready. sleep well stinky.”

your mind clouds over until you feel yourself drifting off to sleep. a light snore graces hitoshis ears which only makes him smile.

he rests his back onto the couch, you nuzzling more into his chest. he interlocks his fingers together across your back, his arms resting where your waist meets your ass. the sun sets a nice shade of amber red, smothering the both of you in a calming evening heat and glow. its time to rest now.

“i love you, dork.”

we'll meet again

don't know where, dont know when

but I know we'll meet again

some sunny day

Fireworks on the streets

My hero characters are back in the Fortnite shop so I’m bouta spend so much money

Blood spit

Some bkdk punk/prep au 🥰🧡💚

Ah yes. Me. My boyfriend. And his 4am zoomies.

denki teehee

Ig I should post my art somEWhERE

Enjoy art of my current muse ~ Tomura Shigaraki ~

[Don't ask why]