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#// you always out here with your bullshit /affectionate
lurxof--thxmaw · 1 year
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So since you won't marry me (which is fine, I'm not upset), I wanted to ask: you know the lady with the scarecrow mask? You know, blue kimono, big ass autism eyes and pathetic energy? Well, is she single?
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For possibly the first time in her long life, the Lady is speechless. She thought she had finally met the peak of idiocy a long time ago, but today she must retract that statement.
The shifty shadows behind her shoulders are easy to ignore, even as one of them pipes up timidly, 『A-Are they talking about me?』 between the whispers. Her surprise is evident and, as much as she hates to admit it, the Lady shares her sentiment. All this information was supposed to be secret - everything the Lady had ever shared about her predecessors was the bare minimum. She hadn't even spoken their names.
"Mind your words", the Lady snaps, eyes narrowing as the temperature in the room grows colder. Though it is a comment done in good faith, she will not allow any ill words in regards to her ancestors, no matter how aggravating they could be. "The person you seek is long gone. She has been deceased for the past two centuries." Her spirit was well and kicking (unfortunately), but that was not necessary information for her guest to know.
"I suggest you search for someone else to share your... affections with." She adds sternly before taking her leave. She can't wait to finally follow through on her promise and eat your soul.
All due time. All due time.
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nadvs · 3 months
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In sleeping with the enemy,
What if people know that they’re just fucking and the jealous girls give shit to reader about how she’s just a lay making her cry and then rafe hearing about it
THE ANGST OF THIS. I LOVE IT 🙂‍↕️
based on this fic
she and rafe keep hooking up with no strings attached and actually develop a good friendship. they both like how the other is direct. they don’t bullshit each other. it’s easy because he’s never really cared to mince his words and she’s so jaded about love and men that she doesn’t worry about hurting his feelings.
she gives him shit about how he has no emotions and he says she’s the exactly the same way. it’s what makes their dynamic so good. they don’t have to worry about feelings getting in the way. they’re friends with benefits in the purest form.
their time together almost always revolves around sex, but sometimes they hang out as friends, and one night, rafe invites her to a frat party on his college campus.
she recognizes a few cheerleaders from rafe’s team at the party and they’re immediately shooting her dirty looks. one of them says “i don’t know why he invited her” loudly and she can tell right away that one of the girls in the group must have a history with rafe because her friends look to be comforting her.
“she’s just a piece of ass to him,” another says, clearly projecting her voice. at this point, she knows she shouldn’t care, but the harsh truth that she hasn’t found a guy who wants to be serious with her yet stings.
she’d stand up for herself, but she’s had a rough day and she hates that she’s alone at that moment, so she rushes out of the party, upset that they succeeded in making her cry.
rafe notices her leaving in a rush, wedging out of the crowd. she hears him calling her name when she steps out of the house into the night air.
“are you crying?” he asks. he’s only ever seen her having fun, pissed off, or horny. this is new.
“don’t give me shit about it, alright?” she says, stopping in her tracks and wiping her tears away. “i’m not in the mood.”
“did something happen?” he asks, albeit awkwardly. he’s never been good at dealing with other people’s feelings. and he’s never seen her vulnerable like this.
“people are just assholes,” she responds.
“who?” he’s pissed off. who the fuck felt like they had the right to mess with her?
“some girls on your cheer squad,” she replies. “they were saying i’m just a piece of ass to you. and don’t worry, i don’t care about that. i know we’re just messing around. but they were so mean about it.”
rafe scoffs. he knows which girls she’s talking about immediately. he steps closer, tense but determined when he squeezes her hand.
“what are you doing?” she says, cracking a smile. he never acts like this. affectionate. like he cares.
“it’s not about you,” he tells her. “i hooked up with one of them forever ago. i told her i didn’t want to date but she’s obsessed with me. don’t let them get in your head.”
she looks at rafe quizzically.
“you’re just being nice so i don’t stop hooking up with you,” she says, admittedly feeling better.
“is it working?” rafe asks, smirking. she laughs and rolls her eyes and pushes him away.
he doesn’t know when he started actually giving a shit about someone else’s happiness, but it happened with her. seeing her cry made him feel a hard, twisted way he’s never felt before.
“get fucked,” she laughs. he can tell he really did console her. she’s smiling again.
“promise?” rafe says with a grin. he takes her hand again, pulling her towards the house. “you’re not leaving. i didn’t bring you so you’d go home a minute later. i’ll set them straight if they fuck with you again, alright? let’s have fun.”
“fun?” she repeats. “i’m not hooking up with you in a closet, just so you know.”
“i know,” rafe says, hand at the small of her back as they enter the party again. “we can find a bed around here, i bet.”
she shoves his shoulder, mirroring his smile as he guides her through the crowd.
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prompt-heaven · 11 months
Text
some reactions to a love confession
"..."
"...what?"
"What? Are you serious? Right now of all places, you really think it's the time to just blurt something like that out? You fucking-, urghh...."
"Wait, what?"
"...oh."
"Cut the bullshit, what do you really want? Because you should damn well know by now that kind of talk doesn't work on me."
"Excuse me?" *fucking clutching my pearls*
"Oh, no..."
"No, please don't. Please don't do this."
"Please stop saying that."
"Just don't."
slap them.
"I hate you."
"I hate you." (affectionately)
"No you don't. I know you may think you do, but you don't, not really."
"Okay."
"...okay..."
"Oh, okay.... uh.... look, I care about you too, so much, but just not like that. I'm really sorry."
"Alright. Tell me again when you finally mean it."
"Tell me again when we make it out of here alive."
"Ah, sure you do."
"I thought I was always just a friend in your eyes..."
"Since when?"
"I had no idea... why did you never tell me before?"
"I'm sorry, I can't... I want to, but I can't..."
just kiss them instead of finding the words.
kiss them as soon as they confess and thereby shut up whatever else they wanted to say.
"Took you long enough."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
"I love you more."
"Ditto."
"I know."
start tearing up.
start full on crying.
start crying happy tears.
start crying angry/confused/frustrated tears.
"Shut up."
"Shut up." (affectionately)
"Seriously?" (hello early seasons of grey's anatomy with all of the seriously's ♡)
"Say it again."
"Oh my god, it all makes so much sense now!"
start giggling uncontrollably.
start laughing uncontrollably.
goes nonverbal.
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eilishsmuse · 2 months
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confess that you were lost
— billie eilish x fem!reader
context. friendship? relationship? situationship? you have no clue what you have with billie. and she doesn’t really clarify what is going on between you two either. all you really know is that there’s a thin line of platonic and romantic the two of you constantly cross over for one another.
cw. angst, swearing, heartbreak, jealousy, suggestive, makeout, reader feels thrown to the side constantly, billie is very unaware with the situation, lowk gets a lil slutty, lowk smut, lowk cliffhanger, good ending ig
soundtrack. temptations - partynextdoor
anon’s ask. “there’s not enough billie angst so how about a situation where reader likes billie but billie’s playing with the line of platonic and romantic so r just doesn’t want to risk hurting the friendship”
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You're dumb
Well no. Not really. You just fell in love with your best friend, that's all. Which, in your case, was dumb to even begin with. You don't even know how it initially happened. One day you were breaking up with your boyfriend, and Billie was there, comforting you every second of the way.
I mean, it was the real package. Break up with your boyfriend, get endless amounts of affection from Billie, and let her smother you with affection, both physically and verbally. As a friend.
That's what sucked. It was just a way of Billie being a good friend.
But since the breakup, she has been more touchy and affectionate than before. Of course, your delusional self saw it as one of Billie's many ways of flirting. But you were wrong. Billie just, in all honesty, casually likes hopping over the thin line between platonic and romantic. And it haunted you.
Now you were here, sitting on Billie's couch as she raved about one of her most recent hookups with some girl she met at her friend Charli's birthday party. And you sat there, head on hand, as she gidded about all the lust and enjoyment she got out of the hookup. A TV show playing the background you were planning to binge with Billie.
"I mean, it was great," Billie half-laughed out. "Definitely top five from now on."
"That's nice," You fake smiled, glancing over at the TV as the show played on the screen. Letting the sound of the dialogue flood your ears. Not wanting to hear about Billie and her hookup anymore. Jealousy eating you inside and out.
A small frown settled on Billie's lips as she watched you look away from her to the TV. "Why do you suddenly seem annoyed?" She questioned.
Billie had always been able to notice the slight changes in your mood towards her, whether they were negative or positive. She knew your body language well enough, that she easily picked up the signs.
You take a small breath in and looked back over at Billie, your eyes fluttering as they landed on hers. Your eyebrows raising in 'confusion', eyebrows furrowing as well, "I'm not ."
Lie. That was a lie. You were jealous. You hated hearing Billie constantly talk about her hookups all while you listened to her in silence and torture.
Billie's frown continued to deepen. She didn't believe your lie for a second. And that's why she leaned closer to you, her gaze never leaving you. "Bullshit," she bluntly called out, shaking her head.
Billie always knew when you were lying. You couldn't fool her. At least not the way you usually did with your other friends.
"Dude c'mon, I've known you long enough to know when you're lying," she added, letting herself scoot closer to you.
Her slender hand came in contact with your cheek, gently caressing the warm skin with her fingertips. She wanted your honest answer. Sacred what was going on through your mind. Worried for you. Like a true friend.
Just then your skin tingled at Billie's touch. It was a common gesture between the both of you. She'd always been touchy with you in that friend way and it never bothered you. Not fully. You just wished it was more than that friend way.
You then finally took a deep breath in at Billie's words. Your eyes hooded as they looked into hers. A small glimpse of sadness and tiredness laced all throughout them.
A pang of worry hit her gut as her eyes studied your expression. It was a mixture of sadness and exhaustion. She could practically feel the pain you were in. What pain? She didn't know. But still, she wanted to be there for you.
Billie's hand slid down from your cheek to your chin. She gently pinched her thumb and forefinger in order to raise your chin, so your gaze wouldn't stray from hers again.
Billie's features softened, her usual bright eyes looking at you with nothing but worry for you.
"You know you can always tell me the truth," Billie softly assured you. Her touch on your chin never faltered. In fact, it gently caressed your skin with her thumb.
It hurt Billie so much, to see those sad and tired eyes as they searched hers. She longed to know what you were thinking. What was making you feel that way? To figure out a way to make you feel better - maybe even smile.
She gently caressed your chin with her thumb, her eyes searching your face for any sign as to what was truly bothering you. But she was clueless. All she knew was that you were upset, and that hurt her the most.
"I know something's up," she spoke again, her tone soft and soothing.
Billie let go of your chin and tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, her eyes never leaving your own.
Billie wasn't stupid. She could see the jealousy radiating off of you.
For a split second, you leaned into Billie's touch. Eyes closing for a moment and cherishing the moment. Her gentle touch was so delicate that when you leaned into it, her hand had no choice but to press up against your head with more force.
"I just-"
Your voice was gentle and low, cracking almost. You weren't on the verge of tears or anything, but the way your throat tightened and swelled as if you'd woken up with a cold said something differently.
Billie watched your expression as your eyes shut for a split second. The way you practically melted into her touch was something that always made her heart flutter.
Her hand stayed against your head, gently rubbing over your temple with her thumb. She was now patiently waiting for you to voice your thoughts, and she had all the time in the world for you.
"Just…?" she softly whispered, encouraging you to continue speaking.
Billie's eyes searched your face for anything that could hint what was going on in your mind. Her thumb continued to gently rub against your temple, trying to soothe any and all thoughts that were causing you to react the way you did.
She knew you. She knew your body language better than anyone else. And all the while, her heart ached at the fact that you were hurting. She hated seeing you in that way. And the fact that you won't say the reason why was killing her.
A quite half whine and sigh came from you. Your eyes now more noticeably showing sadness and fear behind them.
Was this really the time? Billie just finished raving about her 'amazing' hookup, and now here you are on the verge of confessing your love for your own best friend. She wasn't making it any easier either.
With the way her soft, gentle touch feathered across the skin on your temple and the way her eyes searched for any emotions in your body language and eye movement.
Just the way her whole demeanor changed just for you.
Billie's eyes continued to study your face, never straying anywhere else. Her heart felt like it was beating too fast.
She hated this. Hated how you looked so sad and fearful and how you weren't telling her what was wrong. She felt powerless. All she could do was sit and try to soothe you with her touch until you found your voice again.
Billie could feel the atmosphere change. The shift in your body language was very noticeable, and her eyes picked up on it in an instant. "Please, just talk to me," she softly pleaded.
"I can't."
At this point, your voice was scratchy and on the verge of cracking from how tight your throat formed from the emotions. Your eyes shut as soon as you said your words. Your face contorted into a fit of guilt and worry for what was to come in the next few moments.
Your breathing was now heavier and faster than before. Chest rising and sinking with vigorous speed. Face heating in Billie's touch. Mind hazy and blurred.
The more you spoke, the more concern and worry built up inside of Billie. She hated seeing you so torn and upset. Her heart nearly shattered apart when your voice cracked from the emotions.
Her thumb continued to rub over your temple gently, as if to soothe the guilt and worry that was etched on your face. Her other hand moved to hold your cheek, wanting to keep you grounded.
Billie could feel the emotions radiating off of you. She could see and sense the uneasiness and tension.
Billie's features hardened as she could see the look of guilt and worry cross your face with your squeezed shut eyes. She gently gripped your chin and pulled your face up, forcing you to open your eyes and look at her.
"Why can't you?" she softly demanded.
Your heart was pounding. And she knew that. She could feel it under her fingers that were gently pinched around your chin, holding your face steady.
Billie's eyes searched yours, almost pleading with you to tell her the reason why you were so hurt and guilty.
She didn't like this. She hated this. Hated seeing you in pain and not knowing how to fix it.
"Please, just tell me why," she whispered, her voice gentle and soft as her thumb began to rub gentle circles on your chin.
"I hate it when…"
You swallowed to try and make it easier for yourself to say what you wanted to say, but the swallowing only hurt and made your throat tighten up more.
"I hate it when you talk about your hookups."
Your gaze lowers onto your lap where your hands nervously fiddled with one another to soothe the tension in your body.
Billie's heart shattered at your words.
Of course. She should have known. Should have seen the signs.
Her grip on your chin tightened, slightly tilting your face back up so you were looking at her once more. Her eyes were wide as the realization hit her.
She was so dumb.
But she shouldn't have been surprised. All she could see now was the jealousy and sadness in your eyes, all because of the casual talks she had about her hookups with random girls.
Her eyes stayed fixed on your face. She could see how your body language showed tension from how you were fidgeting with your fingers in your lap.
Billie's thumb continued to gently rub your chin as she tried to get you to look at her again.
"Look at me," she firmly spoke, eyes darting all over your face.
"I..."
Billie's voice died in her throat. Her heart was now pounding as fast as yours was, and she was completely at a loss for words.
Everything suddenly made sense. The subtle looks of annoyance whenever she mentioned a hookup. The sad and exhausted look in your eyes. All the times she tried to coax an answer out of you but was met with "I'm not jealous."
Fresh tears began to pool in your eyes, slowly trickling down your cheeks. Billie's heart shattered once again.
Seeing you like that hurt. It hurt her more than she could even express. Her grip on your face softened, gently caressing your skin.
"No, no, no. Don't cry," she gently pleaded, bringing her other hand up to your face to try and wipe away your tears.
Billie's features now held a sorrowful look as she watched more tears glide down your red-tinted cheeks. She began to rub away at the tears on your face, trying her best to comfort you in any way she could.
"Please, don't cry," she repeated, her voice much softer this time. Her eyes continued to study your face, trying her best to decipher what you were thinking.
"I fucked up."
Your tone was regretful. You were regretful. You just threw away a friendship for the girl you loved the most and who cared for you the most, just because you caught feelings.
Now you were just annoyed with yourself as you cried. Aggressively tearing Billie's hands off your face and whipping the tears off your face so hard that it burned and was sure to leave red marks. It wasn't Billie's fault, but at the same time, it was.
Why did she have to be so perfect? So beautiful, caring, funny, and loving. Shit.
"Hey, hey," Billie quickly protested as you swatted her hands away from your face. Her expression hardened as she watched you roughly rub at your face.
Billie didn't know what to do. You had just roughly swatted at her hands, which was something you never did to her, and now you were practically rubbing at your face like you were trying to rid it.
She was stunned. Confused. Worried beyond measure. She had never seen you like this before.
"Y/N. Look at me," she firmly demanded.
Billie gently gripped your wrists in order to get you to stop rubbing at your face. Her grip was firm but gentle. She wasn't going to let you bruise or hurt yourself any further.
The concern was obvious in her voice as she spoke, eyes never leaving your own.
"Stop. Look at me. Now."
And so you did. Your face burned as your hands were pulled away from the aggressive actions. Your breathing was fast and uneven.
Panic and anxiety pooling throughout your mind and body. Your hands were shaking ever so slightly in Billie's hands out of worry.
You looked into Billie's eyes with a look of sorrow and fright.
You didn't want to lose her. You wanted her. You needed her.
Billie could feel your hands shaking in her grip, the subtle tremors telling her just how worried and scared you were.
Your facial expression broke her heart, seeing you look so frightened and saddened all because of her.
She couldn't stand seeing you like this anymore. Seeing you in such distraught all because of something she did. Even if she didn't realize it hurt you so much. She just wanted to soothe you and tell you it would be okay.
"Y/N," she softly spoke, gently rubbing her thumbs over your wrists.
And in that moment, Billie looked at you with so much worry and empathy. It was literally living proof that she had to have felt sort of the same way.
She was perfect for you.
Billie's all you ever needed.
It was quiet, the background noise of the TV was the only thing heard along with both of your breathing. You don't know why you did it, but you surged forward.
Your lips ended up on Billie's. They were soft and sweet. It felt like a warm embrace. And you needed more.
The sudden kiss caught her off guard as your lips landed on her own.
Billie swore her heart stopped.
For a few seconds, she couldn't bring herself to respond. But then, as she felt you press against her more, her body took over, acting on its own.
Billie's brain finally registered what was happening, the events finally setting in.
You were kissing her.
You were kissing her.
And she couldn't bring herself to pull away.
Billie's hands let go of your wrists in order to move to your waist, gently pulling you into her lap. She needed you even closer.
Billie slowly tilted her head more to the side in order to deepen the kiss, trying to get more of you. Your lips were so smooth and soft against her own, and the way you pressed up against her had her head feel fuzzy.
Her hand traveled to gently grip your chin in order to tilt your head down, a perfect angle for her to deepen the kiss even further.
Billie's heart was beating faster. It was going at a speed that was way too fast, her body was practically quivering with excitement in your presence.
She continued to meet your eager movements with her own, tongue slipping out to tease against the seam of your lips. Begging entrance.
A moan slipped past your lips into the kiss. Not out of lust. But out of satisfaction. And eagerness.
Your hands rested on her shoulders, gripping harshly and not wanting to let go. One hand travelling to the back of her head to scrunch her hair in between your fingers.
"I love you."
Your voice was whiny and desperate. You needed Billie to know.
Billie's breath hitched at the sound of the moan coming from you. The little noise alone sent a chill down her spine.
She couldn't stop the low whimper that escaped her own throat with your soft, yet rough, grip in her hair and on her shoulders. And when she felt the words of love come from your lips, her entire body shivered.
"Say it again," she murmured against your lips, her grip on your waist tightening somewhat as she pulled you closer to her.
"I love you."
Your body was hot, and your lips were eagerly molding into Billie's. Your hand on her tightened as the words left your lips.
Tongue tracing along her bottom lip, waiting to be let into where you both needed each other most.
The sound of you repeating those three words again had her entire body going weak. It was all she wanted to hear from you. The one thing she was too scared to ask for.
But you were right here. In her lap. Begging her with your tongue.
Billie quickly granted your mouth access, granting your tongue with entrance between her lips. Her own tongue quickly tangled with yours, relishing the sweetness and heat of your mouth.
Billie's hands moved from your waist, her hands roaming over your body eagerly. She needed to touch you. She needed to feel every inch of you. To feel the heat of your body and the sound of every sweet moan coming from your lips.
Her brain was hazy and fuzzy. All she could focus on was how you felt against her. How you tasted and sounded and felt.
Her hands continued to grip you tightly, not wanting to let you go. Her heart was pounding, and her mind was going fuzzy as she continued to kiss you. It was like nothing she had ever felt before.
She had never wanted a kiss so badly. Never craved someone's touch so much. You were the sweetest, hottest, best thing she's ever had.
Billie pulled back, her eyes taking in your appearance for a few quick moments. Then, without warning, she began to kiss at your jaw and neck.
A scratchy moan slipped past your lips as you separated from her lips. Her lips are wet and harsh on your skin. It's exactly all you've ever wanted. Needed.
Billie continued to kiss at your neck, sucking and biting at the sensitive skin, desperate to hear more sounds from you. She needed to know how much you wanted her as much as she wanted you.
Her hands gripped your hips tight, holding you in place so you wouldn't pull away from her.
"Are you mine? Please. Tell me." she quietly whispered against your skin, the neediness in her voice hard to hide. It came out in a moan. She was hot and desperate. You had no choice but to whine in response.
"Yes."
You'd never sounded more desperate and eager to please her. You wanted her to know that you were hers. You wanted her to know that you were hers to please.
To destroy.
To love.
The simple yet firm word coming from your lips satisfied her more than anything. Hearing you agree that you were hers had butterflies in her stomach.
"You're mine," she continued to murmur against your skin, leaving open-mouthed kisses behind as she went.
She wanted to mark you, leave behind proof that you belonged to her. "All mine, all mine," she repeated again, her voice becoming possessive.
Her mouth continued its assault on your neck and jawline. She left love bites of different sizes, covering most of the skin she could reach. She wanted you to wake up the next day and notice the marks with pride. She wanted you to see just how much you were loved, and she wanted others to see just how taken you were.
Billie's teeth gently grazed over your sweet spot, her tongue darting out to tease the sensitive skin.
Your mind was hazy and hot with all the attention. Your core throbbed from the attention. The cloth that covered your core grew damp and uncomfortably sticky with Billie's doings.
Billie's mouth continued to kiss and suck at your neck, her tongue licking and teasing the sensitive skin. The little gasps and moans she was drawing out of you were driving her crazy.
She could feel the heat coming from you, and it was driving her mad. The thought of you wanting and needing her as bad as she wanted and needed you had her heart racing.
Billie leaned back from your neck to get a look at your face. Her eyes landed on you, drinking in your flushed expression.
Both of your breathing was heavy as you both locked eyes. Lust, love, and eagerness lacing through the two of y'all's eyes.
As Billie took in your expression, she swore that her heart skipped a beat. All she saw in your eyes was raw, pure lust and love.
She couldn't tear her gaze from your own, and the heavy breaths that came from the both of you only added to the feeling of tension.
Billie's hands began to glide up and down your sides, needing to touch more of you. Her fingers gently pressed into your rib cage, as if she didn't want to let you go.
She wanted you closer, more. She needed to be connected with you. To see how you felt.
"I need you," she breathed, her eyes never leaving yours. "I need you, all of you."
"Have me."
Please.
"Take me."
Yes. It came out of your mouth just as you wanted it to.
Needy. Hot. Truthfully.
It was like a cry and plea for Billie to please you and reassure you that all the two of you needed were each other.
"I will, I will," she breathlessly repeated as she looked at you. Her fingers tightened around your waist, gripping the flesh as the need in her voice took over.
She was desperate. So, so, desperate for you.
Without warning, Billie swiftly picked you up in her arms and turned you around, now with you on your back and her hovering above.
Billie's knee was now between your legs and pushing up. Her body now pressed completely against yours, their chests only separated by a thin layer of fabric.
She was close. So close. And all she wanted to do was feel you. Every inch. Every part. All of you was for her to have. And no one else's.
Billie leaned down, the tip of her nose gently grazing along the skin of your neck once again.
As she teased her way across your skin, your hands trailed between the two of you, and you started unbuttoning Billie's pants. Your nails scrape softly against the skin just below her belly button.
Your knuckles being met with her soft, warm skin.
A small gasp escaped her lips at your cold fingers and nails gently scraping over her belly. Her skin instantly prickled with a set of goosebumps at the feeling. It made her shiver.
But she didn't protest your actions.
Billie wanted this just as much as you did.
She continued to gently nibble and kiss at your neck as she felt her pants being unbuttoned, letting you do as you wanted.
While you were hers.
She was also yours.
Her body leaned forward more, her knee now pushing directly between your legs. The slight pleasure now shooting up through your core.
Billie was going crazy, and all you did was undo her pants. She needed you.
Billie slowly started traveling her kisses down the side of your neck, her tongue slowly tracing your collar bone before she continued her descent.
Billie's pants were now unbuttoned but that's all your hands could manage to do. You laid there panting as she kissed her way down your body.
You felt Billie's hands come into contact with the hem of your shorts, slowly pulling them down. Her cold rings splaying on your warm skin.
Her hands pulled down the hem of your shorts, revealing more of the pale skin of your legs. Her calloused hands gently gripping the skin of your thighs as she continued to kiss further down your chest and stomach.
Slowly, she pulled your shorts the rest of the way down, leaving you only in your underwear. Billie sat up for a moment, taking in the sight of your body.
Your skin so smooth, and your form so perfect. She was in love.
Billie's hands gently massaged along the inside of your thighs, her fingers tracing over the skin softly.
She then glanced up at your face, a smirk now on her lips. "God, you're so beautiful like this," she whispered, her hands trailing their way further up the inside of your thighs.
You looked at Billie with so much love and lust. You loved the way her eyes scanned your body. The way she adored everything she saw.
Billie continued to look at you, never glancing away. "So pretty Y/N." she said.
Her fingers reached the hem of your underwear and started to gently pull the material down.
"All mine," she then repeated under her breath, as if it was more of a reminder to herself.
With one hand on your hip and the other on your thigh, she leaned down and began tracing open-mouthed kisses along the inside of your thighs.
Billie wanted to feel and taste every inch of you. She wanted to know how sweet you were.
And she was going to find out.
As she lowered her head between your thighs, you held her head gently. Looking down at her with so much love. So much adoration.
The kisses continued to travel up your thigh, making their way closer and closer to where you wanted her most.
Billie's free hand continued to gently massage your thigh, her fingers tracing little patterns into the skin while she took her time getting closer.
"I love you," she muttered against your leg, the words coming out rough and desperate.
"Billie," You whined softly, looking down at her. Wanting and needing her mouth on your core.
Your whimpers sent a shiver up her spine. She loved the way you said her name. The way it came out as though it was the only word you could speak.
Billie wanted to draw more of those sounds out of you, and it seemed she was getting exactly what she wanted.
Her kisses only continued to travel higher, getting closer and closer.
"Be patient," she said, her voice low and soft against your skin.
And soon, finally, her mouth was where you wanted it the most.
Her tongue gently licked your core, tracing around the sensitive skin. Her free hand gently slid over your thigh, her fingers digging into the flesh.
Billie was going crazy. You tasted so sweet. Better than how she could have imagined. She loved the way you squirmed and gasped and gasped her name.
Her tongue continued to lick and explore, finding all the places that made you gasp the loudest.
She needed to hear more. Needed to feel more of you on her mouth.
Between the sweetness and the heat, she was losing herself. Everything was getting blurry. All she could focus on was you.
You couldn't help but let a cry out at the pleasure. Her wet mouth sucked and swirled on your throbbing core.
The sounds of her wet, lewd actions filled the room along with your moans.
She separated from your core for a split second and looked up at you with her beautiful blue eyes you fell in love with.
"I love you."
'I love you too."
‧₊˚✩彡
fer yaps!!!
yay!
380 notes · View notes
boltwrites · 2 months
Note
NEED to know what happens when logan meets your parents for the first time - does he flirt w/ your mom? What do they think about the age gap? Does your dad like him or is he all "nobody's good enough for my princess😤" do they know you're mutants? Giving you full creative freedom to do as you please just give it to me 😭😭
A/N: ok, so since you've given me creative freedom, we have: 20s-ish mutant fem!reader who teaches at the mansion on 10005, old man worst wolverine!logan, the two of you met after the events of dp3 and the relationship progressed from there.
also. this shit has been giving me so many problems. i was really trying to write typical white-picket fence, suburban sitcom-style parents, but honestly? i don't know dick about those type of parents. so you get these assholes instead.
this may actually be one of the worst things i've ever written. i might add a part two at some point, but really i just think this is horrible and want it out of my sight lmao. so here you go.
Your palms were sweaty, your heart racing, as you reached for the doorknob to your childhood home, Logan standing to your side. The last time you'd brought a boy home (and he had been a boy) things hadn't ended well.
Your dad was a traditionalist, you see, and your mom - well, she wasn't one to judge your choices, but you could tell that sometimes when you told her about your love interests, she was holding in laughter. But your dad - he was very vocal about the expectations he had for your partners. He'd never treated you like some kind of princess or prize - oh no. he was a man who saw his children as students of his own knowledge. No matter what your gender, he had taught you how to trim a tree, change a tire, wire a light switch, cook a filling meal - the basics of owning a home and keeping it put together.
Because of that, your parents hadn't often approved of your previous boyfriends. In high school, you'd been too frightened to bring them home. You'd only attended a traditional public school for your freshman year, and the rest of your time spent at Xavier's you'd been far too worried about your dates accidentally exposing themselves as mutants to justify introducing them to your parents. They weren't anti-mutant, per-say... but they certainly weren't supportive, and you didn't want to put even your prom date through that.
As you grew older (graduated college, was hired on as a teacher at the mansion instead of a simple student), you came to understand the reasons why your parents were so discerning as to your choice in men. Your mother's stoic judgment wasn't meant to be mean - she just wanted you to choose a man for more than just superficial attraction, to think of the bigger picture. Which, you'd been blissfully unaware of, as a teen. Your father's traditionalism wasn't rooted in outdated gender norms - it was simply connected to the fact that he wanted your partner to be able to support both you and your household in a significant way. That's why he was always harping on picking a "real man" - not some newfound conservative bullshit, but the simple understanding that sometimes men tried to do the bare minimum, and that he knew you deserved so much more.
And Logan, well. He could certainly support you. He was unlike any man you'd ever dated. He didn't have any social media you had to worry about - no feed or "for you" page filled with scantily clad women and sexist messaging disguised as finance advice - only a stupid flip phone he refused to text you on. He was helpful, attentive, affectionate - even despite the trauma you'd both experienced as mutants. You understood that his struggled has affected him far more than your had, that he still needed to heal - and even though that strained your relationship at times, you knew he cared, knew he tried - so you fought for it. That was something you couldn't say about your previous boyfriends.
Plus, you knew he could handle your weirdass parents.
"Nervous?" He'd asked you, when you asked him if he wanted to meet your parents. You'd given him a side-eyed look as you posed the concept, like you were giving him an out to decline.
"I mean, kind of?" You responded, hesitant. All he did was chuckle, smirking at you.
"What, am I gonna pull up to your dad cleaning his shotgun in the garage?"
"Honestly? Maybe, but that's not what I'm worried about," you admitted, fidgeting. "It's... it's hard to explain. I guess the closest thing is that they're - funny? Like - they'll make fun of you. My dad - he makes all of these horrible inappropriate jokes, like, all the time, and my mom is just really sarcastic, and she seems super judgmental because of it, but really, she's just being funny."
Logan just looked at you, one eyebrow raised. "
What?" You asked. You'd expected more from him. But he just snorted.
"Babe, I've been stuck in the void with Wade-fucking-Wilson. I'm not scared of your parents."
So, you took a breath, offered Logan one last "brace yourself-" and pushed open the door. Immediately you were met with the smell of something cooking - you recognized it immediately as one of your dad's signature dishes, sizzling on the stove.
"Hey, we're here!" You called out, you tried to usher Logan in and up the stairs of your split-level, but he insisted on closing the door behind you - and the shitty screen door that had been around since before you were born made a horrible shaking, scraping metal sound as it bounced along the concrete of your porch. Ah, the sound of home.
"Hey, you!" Your dad called, poking his head out of the kitchen. "What're you- hey, ho! Who's this?" He gestured to Logan with the spatula in his hand, and your face immediately reddened.
"Dad, this is Logan."
"Hey," Logan nodded in greeting, and your dad made a little shocked noise.
"Logan? Who's Logan?"
"Jesus Christ-" you huffed it under your breath, and Logan tried to stifle a chuckle. "He's my boyfriend, remember?"
"Boyfriend?" Your dad's voice pitched higher. "That motherfucker looks older than me!"
Well. There was your dad getting right to the point, as per usual.
"I am," Logan replied, and you fucking elbowed him in the ribs.
"No mutant shit - they don't know," you hissed a reminder, and he rolled his eyes.
"Hey - you see this guy, Nikki?" Your dad called to the dining room.
Your mom sighed - unlike your dad, she had some kind of decorum, and had the decency to shoot him daggers before she met you and Logan at the top of the steps.
"It's nice to meet you, Logan," she greeted him - you could tell that she was fighting the all consuming urge to shoot you a look or make a joke about this whole thing. She was trying so hard. It was like that scene in Who Framed Roger Rabbit with the shave and a haircut song.
"Would you like something to drink?" she asked. "Since you're clearly old enough-"
It was like some demon forced her to spit out that line. You snorted, had to shake your head. This was a mistake.
"What do you have?" Logan asked instead, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, smirking at the whole situation. It was like he lived to see you embarrassed.
"Water, coke, iced tea -" she listed off.
"My dad's shitty beer," you added, and Logan's brow raised.
"Hey! Busch is good beer!"
"No the fuck it is not," you replied, because he didn't even drink the light stuff.
"I don't care, I'll take the beer," Logan cut in, and your dad wagged a finger at him.
"Yeah! I'll get you one - it's good shit, man. Somebody watch the stove."
Oh good lord. There he goes. Logan shot you a look - lip quirked into a little smile, before your dad clapped him on the shoulder and hauled him towards the stairs.
That just left you. And your mom.
She looked at you. You looked at her.
"Well?" you asked, stepping up to take your dad's place at the stove to watch the food. Your mom shrugged in response.
"Well, what?"
"Aren't you going to ask me about him - make some weird comment about his age? I mean - now would be the time," you hedged. You just hated this weird aura surrounding you all. How it felt like she had so many questions to ask, but was holding them all back.
"Obviously I can tell he's old," your mom replied. "It's not really a discussion. Is there something we do need to talk about?"
You knew what she meant. Were you safe with him? Were you happy? Did you bring him here to meet them because you needed help, not because you wanted to share your happiness with them?
Some people might find that sort of implication unthinkable, or rude to address - but you knew your mom. She watched a lot of true crime. She just cared about you.
"No," you replied, with a sigh. "I-I really like him. He's a good man. He actually - he knows how to be a man, if you know what I mean. How to take care of himself. I don't know - I didn't realize how important that was until I met him."
You mom nodded. Her arms were crossed, and she wore her typical resting bitch face, but you could tell she understood what you meant.
"Well. Hopefully your father doesn't shoot him."
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irisintheafterglow · 1 year
Text
Lavender Haze (pro!bakugo katsuki x you)
summary: your relationship with dynamight had just gone public, and you need a little verbal affirmation that you two will make it out okay
word count: 1k
cw/tags: very mild angst/comfort, mostly just affectionate katsuki fluff, swearing/profanity wouldn't be a bakugo fic without it, suggestive if you squint, reader is also a pro hero, pet names (babe, stupid, dumbass)
note: i love writing stubborn katsuki banter with an equally stubborn reader who's just used to his antics. domestic katsuki just makes me adhfsjfdfjsgjk, yk? enjoy!
likes/reblogs/feedback are always appreciated!!
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You heard the key turn in the door down the hallway and finally put down your phone after scrolling through Twitter for hours. They’d been particularly ruthless today, ripping into your relationship and theorizing that he didn’t even love you. The room was dark and the thought of faking sleep crossed your mind, but you knew he’d sense you were still awake. So, you wait for him to slip off his gauntlets and tug off his boots and find you in your shared bedroom. 
“Babe?”
“Here, Kats.” He lays down beside you, and you’re so mentally exhausted that you don’t even scold him for slipping into bed dirty from patrol. You let him pull you into his arms and inhale deeply against his chest.
“Why are you still awake?”
“Was waiting for you to come home.”
“Bullshit. You fall asleep hours before I’m off shift.”
“Maybe tonight’s just different, then.”
“Are you gonna tell me what’s different?” 
“Do I need to?”
“Yeah, you’re starting to worry me.” 
“I’m just… scared.” His body tenses around you, scarlet eyes searching your face with concern. 
“What’s wrong? What happened?” 
“Nothing happened, not yet, at least. I’m just…”
He thinks for a moment, and you can’t help but stare in wonder at how beautiful he is when the gears in his brain turn. “They’re getting to you again.”
“How did you know?” Of course, he figured it out; he always seemed to be able to know exactly what you were thinking and verbalize it in a way that you couldn’t. 
“Because I love you, stupid, and I know your mind like it was my own.”
“They just, they think I’m using you, Kats, or that I don’t love you, or that this is all a PR stunt by my agency–” Your voice starts to shake on its own, and you push back against the frustration welling up in your eyes. 
“Your manager isn’t smart enough to do that.” A finger comes down to brush a stray hair from your face as you glare up at him. He’d been wanting you to hire a new manager for months or simply merge with his agency, but you wanted the social media firestorm to die down first before any big public moves. 
“Bakugo Katsuki.”
“What? You know I’m right.”
“Not the point.”
“You need to stop reading through Twitter, baby. You really trust some assholes on the Internet over the man of your dreams?” He smirks down at you and draws spirals on your shoulder with his fingers, leaving tingling sensations in their wake. He knew just how to make you feel better, and it was one of your favorite things about him. The way he balanced crude humor with reassurances that you needed and small acts of affection distracted your brain from spiraling any further.  
“Okay, man of my dreams, I get it. Could you just say it?” He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip absentmindedly. 
“Say what?”
“You know, the thing. Please.”
“Oh, right.” Understanding washed over his face, and you caught a little bit of underlying impatience that made you feel a little guilty for asking. 
“Did you forget?”
“Of course not. I just wish I didn’t have to keep telling you that I’m not going to leave you because of some fuckfaces on the Internet making up rumors. I trust you, you trust me, and no one else’s bullshit matters.” He shrugs a toned shoulder and returns to dragging his fingers over your body, running his hands in the creases and dips that he’s memorized on you. 
You roll your eyes. His encouragement was effective, but you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh at the expletives thrown into this round of verbal affirmation. “That’s more aggressive than last time, Kats.”
“It’s an upgrade,” he grins, gently squeezing the flesh around your hips. He got more handsy when he was deliriously satisfied, not that you were complaining. “Next time you get anxious that I’d do something stupid like break up with you, I’m gonna tell Shoto to buy Twitter and ban you from it.” 
“Bold of you to assume he would listen to anything you say.”
“Bold of you to assume I don’t know where he and his entire family lives,” he whispers innocently, pressing his lips to your forehead. His fingers brush up and down the sides of your neck and shoulders, sending chills running through your limbs. 
“Kats–”
“I’m kidding…” He drawls and flashes a cruel grin. “Kinda.” 
“Okay, high school asshole Katsuki, get out of my bed and shower. You’re all sweaty and sticky and yuck.” You push against his chest to no avail. 
He pouts, grabbing hold of your wrists and having you pinned against your bed in one fluid motion. “I thought you loved it when I was sweaty and sticky and yuck.” Strands of blonde hair fall onto his forehead and brush against yours as he leans down to brush his lips against yours. He’d never looked so beautiful.
“Not when I’m trying to sleep.”
He pulls back abruptly, looking at you skeptically. “You weren’t trying to sleep shit, babe.” 
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Neither does spiraling over idiots on a stupid fucking bird app.” Fortunately, your body’s awareness of Katsuki’s hands had put the hate tweets you read in the furthest corner of your mind.
“You made your point, like, three points ago.”
His head dips back down to kiss a trail down your collarbone. “Yeah, but sometimes your dumb ass doesn’t listen.”
“You can’t resist this dumb ass.”
He bites down gently where your shoulder meets your neck and you jump, his chuckle buzzing against your skin. “Nope. It’s a plague.” Any more of his body on yours was set to be a disaster, so you attempt to halt his advances before you’re further entangled with each other. 
“Take a shower, Kats.”
He leaves one more chaste kiss on your nose. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” You sigh and wait for him to release your wrists, but he gives you a pointed look like you’d responded incorrectly. 
“I. Love. You.” God, he’s such a brat. 
You press a kiss up to his forehead and he closes his eyes in contentment. “I love you more.”
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aww-canon-no · 1 year
Text
Steddie (Deaf Steve) Pt 2
You asked, so I’m here to give you more.  This time from Eddie’s POV.
First kiss, sequel to Shoot Your Shot.
*** 
Soon Enough
Rated: T
Steve/Eddie
Modern AU, first kisses, Deaf Steve, ASL
(Content warnings: mentions of childhood neglect/abuse)
Eddie has never, ever once believed in conformity.  And he’s not about to start now.
(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up is translated in notes at bottom of this fic)
*** 
Eddie Munson’s life has always been…difficult, to say the least.  Born under a bad sign, Wayne liked to call it, but in a kind of affectionate way.  The way where he’s holding small Eddie who can’t stop crying and wondering why all the other kids in his class have really nice parents who buy them things and, you know, feed them.
Wayne stepped in when he could.  He never failed to show up with food and threats against his brother when he heard Eddie’s tiny, broken voice on the other end of the phone because his dad was too drunk or too high to feed him.  Eventually they struck a deal.  Eddie’s parents disappeared after signing some scary looking paperwork, and Eddie got to pack all his things and move to Wayne’s trailer which was small compared to where his classmates all lived, but nice.
So nice.
Like washing machine and running water nice.
He won’t have to be the smelly kid in class anymore.
He just didn’t realize how reputations clung in small towns.
So suffice it to say that Eddie abhors difficult things—including difficult people.  It’s why, when his little lambs started going on and on and fucking ON about their cool, badass older friend Steve who used to date Nancy, Eddie was determined to never meet him.
It wasn’t just the jealousy.
It was that Steve communicated on a whole other level.  Literally.  He was Deaf.  He went to the Deaf school that wasn’t anywhere near Hawkins and he knew no one, but somehow Steve and his perfect fucking hair was still popular amongst people who weren’t freaked out by the whole, he can’t hear shit, thing.
Yeah, it definitely wasn’t jealousy.
It was the fact that Steve was complicated and he used a whole separate language and Eddie just…had no plans to involve himself in that.
Never mind the kids were over the goddamn moon about being able to know ASL.  They communicated with it during campaigns whenever they didn’t want Eddie to know their plans, and—although Eddie actually did look up stuff online about Deaf people (all that stuff about capital D and lowercase d and the community and culture was all very overwhelming) he was pretty sure his little lambs were technically not allowed to make up sign names for all the creatures in their guides.
But they did it anyway and who was Eddie to stop them.
He ended up picking up a few things by osmosis, whether he liked it or not.
But he was determined, damn it.  He existed over here, Steve existed over there, and they all lived happily ever after.
Until the afternoon he walked into Scoops Ahoy.
***
Eddie had actually gone in to bother Robin.  They were sort of outcast friends.  Two freaky little gays at Hawkins High, though she was younger than him and had absolutely no interest in DnD, but they had a shared trauma bond of bullies and bullshit.
He came to a stop when he saw the absurdly good looking guy at the counter who was staring at him in ways no one had ever stared at Eddie.  The way that said he had no idea who Eddie was and it was always great to have a fresh start like that.
Then Eddie fucked up by not reading his badge and realizing exactly who was there.
And like Dustin had once predicted, the second he met Steve’s eyes, he was a gonner.  There was no resisting him.
He was smitten and the hole was too deep for him to claw his way out of.
He went home and looked up a bunch of videos that seemed suspect as fuck, so in the end he called Dustin who showed up at Eddie’s trailer with an arsenal of websites.
“Can’t you just get me, like, a book or something?”  Eddie had asked, feeling intimated and overwhelmed and already kind of tired.
Dustin had given him the bitchiest bitch face that ever bitched.  “You can’t learn ASL from a book, numbnuts.”  Then his hands twisted into the complicated shapes—all fast the way Dustin kept bragging about—and Eddie assumed he was repeating most of what he’d just said.
Eddie damn-well knew that if he actually wanted Steve to say yes to him, he was absolutely going to have to learn because while the kids said Steve could speak, he hated doing it.  And Eddie was the kind of guy who had been rebelling against forced conformity his entire life.
So yeah, he’d rather die than put that choice to Steve.
He learned enough to feel confident going back to the mall.  And Robin was once again playing the long game with Vickie who would literally drag Robin into the cleaning closet and rock her world if Robin only asked—but he knew she wouldn’t.  But it left the perfect opening for Eddie who walked up to the counter, panicked, and immediately forgot everything he’d learned about ASL in the time he’d been away from Steve’s ice cream counter.
In the end, he remembered a little, then tried to backtrack and tell Steve he’d ask him out when he was a little more fluent.
Which made Steve laugh, and Eddie wouldn’t find out until much later that it took at least seven years of immersion to become fluent so…
Yeah it was kind of hilarious.
For Steve.
Mortifying for Eddie.
The blow was softened when Steve touched him—like actually touched him without reservation or hesitation.  And then he told Eddie he didn’t want him to wait.  Eddie was fine as he was—that patience with his language could be a thing and Jesus H Christ Eddie was pretty sure he could die right then.
Except if he died he wouldn’t get the chance to touch Steve back, and kiss him, and make him laugh, and make him make other noises and Jesus H Christ he wanted that so bad he could taste it.  Because he’d been avoiding Steve for what felt like half his new adult life but he was head over heels smitten in two visits to the ice cream shop.
And he didn’t even like ice cream.
He was lactose intolerant for fuck’s sake.
Anyway, he got Steve’s number and he didn’t wait to text.
But the date did.
They planned for the movies and then…
Wayne got hurt at the plant.  He ended up being fine, but it scared the absolute fuck out of Eddie who staying at the hospital until his back hurt from the small chair, and his phone was dead, and he felt like passing out.
The nurses had to kick him out, and Eddie walked out of the room in a fog, and stumbled into the downstairs lobby where he came to an abrupt halt at the sight of a familiar, gorgeous head of hair.  Steve was facing away from him with big headphones on, bobbing his head to…music?
Eddie totally didn’t get it, but he couldn’t help himself from walking over and laying a hand on Steve’s shoulder.  He felt like shit when Steve jumped half a foot off the chair, but then his face broke out into a soft, sympathetic smile.
‘Hi.’  It was a simple enough sign that Eddie didn’t have to try for that one.  ‘You OK?’  He signed slow, mouthing the words.
Eddie swallowed heavily, then shrugged.  His fingers felt a little stiff and he wasn’t sure he had the emotional capacity to take embarrassing himself by getting signs wrong no matter how frantically he’d been practicing since the day at the mall.
Steve’s face fell a little more, and Eddie was pretty sure he’d never seen anyone look so…so soft at him before.  He walked around the benches toward Eddie, then yanked him into a hug.  It was so unexpected that Eddie just…melted.  His head pressed against Steve’s headphones which were blaring with music, and Eddie had about a thousand questions but instead he just lost himself in the way that Steve hugged.
It was…a lot.  
Of course, it was mostly that Eddie just never, ever got hugged and all the touching he did was imitated by himself and almost never returned, but that was a different trauma for a different day.
For now he just let himself have this.  Have Steve.  Have the body pressed to his and voiceless permission to kind of shake apart after holding it together for hours, and hours, and hours.
When he pulled back, Steve gave him a cautious smile and Eddie reached up, tapping Steve’s headphones.
‘Hurt?’ Eddie asked. ‘Loud?’
Steve frowned, then rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, turning off his music before pulling them back and draping them around his neck.  He shook his head and shrugged.  ‘Can’t…hear?’  Eddie was pretty sure that was the sign for hear.  Not hearing, which was a little finger twirl under the bottom lip.  ‘Not hurt  Feel it.’
Eddie nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before remembering—oh shit, I need those to like, talk to Steve, and pulled them out again.
Steve laughed—but he was maybe one of the only people in the world who didn’t seem like he was laughing at Eddie, and wow what a goddamn novelty that was.
Steve tapped his arm and Eddie looked up at him as Steve curled his hand into a C-shape and dragged it down his throat.  ‘Hungry-you?’
He was starved.  He mimicked the sign and remembered the lesson he learned online where he had to exaggerate the sign if he wanted to emphasize what he was saying.  So he ran his C-hand over his throat a few times, then added, ‘Eat, before, work.’  He met his left wrist with his right wrist once with heavy force. He knew that wasn’t right but maybe it was close enough?
Except Steve was suddenly all red in the face and making a choking sound.  Eddie took a step back, but Steve reached out and snagged his arm before he could get too far, shaking his head.
Eddie was pretty sure he was supposed to be mortified but right then he was mostly curious and uh…yeah.  Steve was touching him again so that was good.
Steve touched the underside of Eddie’s chin and he made an embarrassing noise which Steve must have felt because his grin twitched a little wider.  Then he shook his head.
‘H U N G R Y,’ he spelled very slowly.  He repeated his sign, then added, ‘S T A R V I N G?’  He made a little question mark motion with his finger.  It was weirdly cute, and Eddie didn’t describe things as cute very often.
He nodded. Yeah.  He’d been trying to say starving.
Steve made a noisy sort of huffing sound with some rumble behind it, then squared his shoulders and nodded before raising his right hand.  His left signed, ‘Watch.’
Eddie nodded.
Steve made an exaggerated face and dragged his C-hand down his throat with more force.  ‘Ok?’
Eddie nodded.  Okay, yeah.  He could do that.
Steve wasn’t done.  ‘W O R K?’
Eddie smiled and nodded his fist.  ‘Yes.’
Steve tapped the inside of his right wrist against the back of his left wrist.  ‘Work,’ he signed.
Eddie repeated the sign, and Steve nodded, giving him an enthusiastic thumb’s up.
‘Now- go-you-me.’ Steve signed—Eddie was...pretty sure? God he needed to practice more.
But he answered Steve with a happy, ‘OK,’ and didn’t mind at all when Steve took his hand.
Until suddenly he did mind because…
He dragged Steve to a halt and cleared his throat, pulling out his phone with his free hand and typing as fast as he could, ‘What did I say? Before?  What did I fuck up?’
Steve’s eyes got wide and he waved him off, but Eddie tugged on him until Steve let out a small groan, snatched the phone, and began to type.  Eddie had not one single qualm about reading over his shoulder, and in about five seconds, he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.
“I signed what?” he demanded aloud, forgetting himself entirely.
Steve looked over his shoulder, his face kind of…different.  Confused?  Full of pity at how fucking pathetic Eddie was?  Embarrassed to know him?
Was he…
Eddie’s thoughts came to a sudden, screeching halt when Steve cradled his face between his hands.  He leaned forward until his lips were practically brushing Eddie’s ear and he whispered aloud, “I’d be happy to fix that problem too.”
Eddie was already pretty sure spontaneous combustion was a thing, and now he was about to be living proof because oh my GOD.  Oh my... god oh my god oh my…
Steve dragged a thumb over Eddie’s lower lip, then raised his brows like he was asking, ‘Is this okay?’
Eddie nodded frantically and Steve began walking him backward until his back suddenly hit…oh.  It was a tree.  The bark was sharp against his bare elbow, but all of that ceased to matter the second Steve’s lips touched his.  It wasn’t a wild, desperate kiss of star-crossed lovers in the books Eddie secretly read.
No, it was soft.  It was gentle.
It was warm and it was fucking needy as hell but it was also the first kiss in a line of what Eddie was determined to have as many, many, many as he could.  As many as Steve would allow.
For the rest of their lives, God help them both.
Steve gently licked into Eddie’s mouth before finally pulling away, and the stress of Wayne being hurt and then him thoroughly embarrassing himself, he wasn’t hard or anything, but there was definitely a sort of humming desire under his skin which were as warm as his hands were because they...
Oh.
He looked down and realized that he’d rucked up Steve’s shirt and was digging his fingers into Steve’s bare hips.  ‘Sorry,’ he signed, dislodging one hand.
Steve laughed—a quiet huff mostly through his nose, and he shook his head before stealing a last kiss.  Eddie wanted to chase it, but he forced himself to keep his back to the tree as Steve dug into his pocket for his phone again.
‘For now,” he wiggled his phone.  ‘Until we can spend more time together and I can teach you more,’ Steve typed out.
Eddie swallowed heavily, then nodded.  ‘Why are you here?’
Steve frowned like he was confused why Eddie would even ask that. ‘Dustin said your uncle was hurt.  I didn’t want you to be alone when they kicked you out.’
Those words, that simple fucking act of kindness, was almost too much.  The emotions overwhelmed him and he wanted to laugh, and cry, and scream, and fucking sing until his throat seized up and he lost his voice.
He stared at the phone screen until Steve dragged a tender touch across the top of his hand, and he looked up.
‘Come home with me tonight.  Sleep,’ Steve typed before shoving his phone back into his pocket without waiting for Eddie’s answer.  He knew he should probably say no because they hadn’t even had their date yet, but then again, Eddie had never been conventional.
Never would be conventional.
He rubbed a flat palm over his chest.  ‘Please.’
Steve’s eyes darkened, just for a second.  Eddie panicked before he realized that no, he’d gotten the sign just right.  Steve was just maybe thinking of other ways Eddie might use that sign and…yeah.
Shit yeah.
Maybe not now.  Not tonight.  Not even very soon.
But soon enough.
Steve linked their fingers together and tugged…
And Eddie followed.
*** 
(Eddie’s ASL fuck-up.  Common mistake in ASL- Hungry=Horny.  Work=Fuck.  Steve is kind of okay with that idea too lol)
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dollfacefantasy · 6 months
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Like a Friend
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pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader
summary: it's been months since you and toji split. when he shows up at your apartment, you struggle to not fall back into his arms.
cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, toxic relationship dynamics
word count: 4.7k
a/n: commission for @nexysworld <3
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One eye cracks open when a loud pounding sound rouses you from your sleep. You sit up, rubbing your face and yawning. The red numbers on your alarm clock glare 2:37. After a few more moments of it, you register the sound as knocking on your front door. As you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, you wonder who and why. Who would not only disturb you at this hour, but also be so brash about it? You kind of hoped it was no one you knew so you wouldn’t have to deal with anyone’s bullshit problems at nearly three in the morning.
When you arrive at the entryway and glance through the peephole on the door, your wishes dissipate immediately. Standing outside your place was the biggest bullshit problem you’d ever encountered. You unlock your door and crack it open, the bright light of the hallway making you squint as it casts over you.
“Toji?” you ask, your voice still a bit raspy from disuse.
“Hey baby,” he says quietly. Despite his subdued tone, he still flashes you that grin that lets you know he’s still himself.
“What… what are you doing here?” you mumble. You rub your face again to try and make yourself a little more presentable. Even though he was an asshole and you couldn’t say enough about how you had totally moved on, the sight of his shaggy hair hanging in front of his eyes and the faded scar on the corner of his mouth still made your heart flutter.
“The place I was staying kind of fell through. But you know, it’s kind of a good thing. Brought me back to you. I’ve been missing you a lot,” he says.
You roll your eyes. He must need more than just a night to get himself together with how thick he was laying it on.
He reaches out to stroke the curve of your cheek. His rough fingers drag against the soft skin while the two of you stare at each other. You know you should swat his hand away. Tell him to go to hell. Get lost and lose your number. But you can’t be that cruel. Not to him. Even with everything that’d happened, all the tears he’d caused and days he’d ruined, he was still your Toji. Your bad habit. Your never-ending vice. A piece of you that’d you’d never cut out no matter how rotten it became.
“Fine, c’mon,” you relent. You open the door wider and allow him entry.
“That’s my girl,” he says and steps through.
“Don’t call me that,” you say quietly. You were falling for it, but he didn’t have to throw it in your face.
After following you in, he doesn’t shut the door behind him. You raise an eyebrow.
“Before we catch up…” he starts with a chuckle, “I kind of need you to pay for my ride. I don’t have any cash on me.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask, walking to the window and looking down. As he said, the cab was waiting outside.
All the dreamy thoughts you’d just had about him being yours no matter what start to have a bleak tint. Your gaze hardens as a harsh sigh leaves your lips.
“Fine, but you’re gonna pay me back,” you say. You stop at the counter to grab your wallet and fish out some cash. Then you slap it into his palm and gesture for him to go. Sure you’d give him the money, but no way were you gonna scamper down there out into the cold in your pajamas.
He leans down and gives you a small peck on the cheek before heading out. You stand in your living room alone. He was still affectionate even though you’d been apart for months. You knew he was that way with his words. The occasional texts he sent you during this break always held copious amounts of “baby’s” and “my pretty girl’s.” You just didn’t expect him to touch you like nothing was different.
You rub your eyes in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Deciding to be proactive, you occupy the small wait for his return by setting up some things on the couch. You rifle through the closet in the hallway to find some spare bedding. Pillows are easy, you toss two spare ones over to your couch. Blankets are more difficult. You initially grab the fluffy lavender one he gave you for your last birthday. It looked brand new. You hadn’t had much time to use it before you kicked him out. Then when it felt like he was actually gone for good, you’d clutched it to your chest while crying your eyes out for days. But since that week, it remained hidden away in the depths of this closet.
He probably wouldn’t even notice if you did put it out, but he didn’t need confirmation that you hadn’t thrown the stuff he gave you away. So instead, you pull out an old blue one with little fish all over it. You spread it out on the couch as he slips back into the apartment, this time closing the door and locking it. Your back is turned while smoothing out the wrinkles in the plush fabric, so you don’t see him sliding a leftover bill into his pocket.
As you finish up the makeshift bed on the couch, he approaches you. He places a cautious hand on your waist, his fingertips rubbing tiny strokes on your t-shirt.
“You’re really gonna put me out on the couch? I thought you’d want me in bed, all to yourself. Like old times,” he teases.
“I don’t want it to be like old times,” you say.
“C’mon, they weren’t all bad,” he says and pulls you a little closer, “You used to love to cuddle. You’d curl right up to me, give me those little kisses. We had a lot of fun together in that bed.”
You look up at him. His familiar eyes meet yours. It would be so easy to give in. To connect your lips and pull him back to your bed that had been missing his presence for months.
“We did. But not anymore. They’re good memories, and that’s it,” you say, turning your head and stepping away. You needed the distance between the two of you.
You further separate yourself from him by sitting in the chair near the couch. It was a single seat, no room for anyone else to slide in next to you and drape their arm around your shoulders. He knows what you’re doing of course. You can see the look of amusement in his eyes. This was how you got during fights. You just closed off, tried to remove yourself from him and not engage. It was kind of cute you hadn’t changed.
He plays along and sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions and propping his legs on your table. The silence between the two of you feels heavy. It fills up the room, suffocating any space words could have gone.
“Do you want a drink?” you manage to get out.
“I’m fine,” he says. And in contrast to you, he did seem fine. He seemed unbothered by the lack of conversation. He looked content to stare at you, drag his eyes over every detail of your figure.
“Are you ok?” you ask. You just couldn’t take the silence.
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks in return.
“Cause you said you didn’t have anywhere to go and the place you were staying, something went wrong,” you answer.
“That was nothing, I’m fine,” he deflects.
“Well I just want to know if I should be concerned if there’s a hit out on you or something. If someone’s gonna burst through my door in a few minutes cause you ripped them off,” you say and cross your arms.
“Nothing that serious. Just some lady problems,” he says with a smirk.
A dark cloud forms over your head at this. It wasn’t like he was cheating. You weren’t together anymore. But the thought of him with another woman drove you crazier than just about anything else. And of course he knew that.
“What happened? She get smart enough to kick your ass out?” you say, unsuccessfully masking the bitterness in your tone.
“Something like that,” he says. He pauses, still looking smug as ever. “Why? Are you jealous?”
“You wish,” you respond. He doesn’t seem to believe you.
Another bout of uncomfortable silence crowds the distance between you two. This time it’s broken by him.
“You got anyone I should be jealous of?” he asks.
“That’s none of your business,” you answer without a second thought.
“Guess not. I mean if you did, you probably wouldn’t be letting me crash on your couch. And anybody who was a real threat would be here. Would’ve answered the door instead of you,” he mocks.
You roll your eyes yet again. “You’re so smart,” you say.
He shrugs. “Only when it comes to you.”
Rage boils within you. You know you shouldn’t feed into him, give him what he wants by getting all riled up. Your rational mind knows this. But the irrational part of you loves the game. Walking as close as you can to the line without stepping across. Pulling and pulling until you feel something about to snap.
“Well I’m not like you. I take a while to move on since you actually mattered to me. I just can’t jump into someone else’s arms and pretend that nothing is different,” you say.
“Don’t start that shit. Don’t act like I’m some cold-blooded asshole who broke your innocent little heart,” he says. His eyes don’t leave you once.
“You did break my heart and you are a cold-blooded asshole, so tell me where the lie is,” you challenge.
“You aren’t innocent,” he states, “You could get just as nasty when we were fighting. And you’re the one who broke up with me.”
“Because you are a dick. Cause and effect. If you weren’t so insufferable, we wouldn’t have so many fights, and I wouldn’t have broken up with you,” you point out.
“So it’s all my fault? You never do anything wrong? Whatever you say, baby,” he says, now taunting you with the pet name.
“I didn’t say I never do anything wrong. But everything we fought about is because you did something stupid,” you say.
“I make a little mistake once in a while and you blow up on me. I think you just like fighting,” he says.
You dig your nails into the flesh of your arm to keep your temper from flaring. You begin to wonder if it’s too late to throw him out again. Part of you had the urge to go back in time and slap the version of yourself that let him in cause he was “your Toji.” But really, this was your Toji. Your Toji with his sleazy smile, dumb shaggy hair, smug eyes, and chilling voice. This was the man who had you hopelessly trapped.
“Whatever,” you huff, determined to prove him wrong. You rise from your chair and walk towards the hall that leads to your room. “I’m going back to bed. Do what you want, just stay out of my room. If you want to change, I can bring you some clothes.”
“You have clothes here that will fit me? Maybe I should be jealous,” he says, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his knee.
And instead of taking advantage of his assumption, like he would have done to you, your mouth opens and words fly out before you can even think of that.
“They’re your-” you start, your mental brakes screeching to a halt. Suddenly, you felt so stupid for putting so much thought into avoiding the purple blanket.
The smile that breaks out on his face is so wide it’s almost unsettling. It would be if it was anyone else.
“Aw baby,” he coos mockingly, “You didn’t get rid of my clothes? You still been using ‘em? Cause that’s fine you know. I like it when they smell like you.”
You didn’t even know what to say. You had used them a few times since he’d been gone, but it wasn’t like a regular thing. You did like that they smelled like him, and you liked hearing that he felt the same way about you. But he couldn’t win.
“Just shut up. Do you want them or not?” you say and look away.
“No, baby. I’ll be fine. Thank you,” he says, every word dripping with condescension.
You slink away without returning the courtesy. It takes you no time to collapse back into your bed, but resuming the sleep he had torn you from proves more difficult. Your thoughts just keep drifting back to him. You toss and turn, legs kicking away the blankets and then arms pulling them back.
He really was out there on your couch. You thought you may never see him again. You’d broken up a few times before over different small things, but this time felt different. It was supposed to be for real. But just like that, he came back. 
Now that he had returned, you felt the dull ache for him returning as well. You had hoped it shrunk over time until eventually it didn’t exist, but here it was, showing itself again. You know you shouldn’t, but you were starting to regret not asking him to join you. He was fucking infuriating, but you had missed him so much. He could help push away the memories of loneliness that had occupied your bed in his wake.
After nearly an hour of this, you manage to slip into some form of sleep. It felt like you were still awake, but far away. You were floating, drifting around aimlessly. You were resting, but you probably wouldn’t feel that way if you woke up right now.
You’re deep enough that you don’t hear your door creaking open. You don’t feel the mattress dip slightly with additional weight. You don’t sense your blanket being lifted as another body slides in next to yours. You only begin to wake once you feel his skin on yours, his thick arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.
You babble tiredly as he presses kisses to the back of your neck. Humming in confusion, you turn and crack your eyes open to see what’s happening.
“Toji?” you croak when you register his face so close to yours. 
He’s still kissing up and down your neck. His fingers trace little patterns on the skin of your waist. Once you realize it’s him and what he’s doing, you squirm. You whine and try to pry his arms off you.
“Stop. What'd I tell you? Quit it,” you grumble as you struggle more with him.
He squeezes you tighter and nuzzles you. “But it’s cold out there, sweetheart. Lonely too,” he murmurs.
“Don’t care. It’s the couch or the curb, so take your pick,” you yawn.
“Baby, it’s me. I’ve been missing you so bad. And I wasn’t being a very good guest before. Let me make it up to you a little,” he whispers.
“No,” you whine, “Make it up by letting me sleep.”
“You can sleep whenever. I’m here right now,” he purrs. His fingers ghost along your waist making you squirm and whine at the slight tickle.
“Why do you always have to be so annoying?” you huff and try to readjust to be comfortable within his hold since he shows no signs of letting up.
“You know you like it.”
He pulls you tighter against him and drags his nose against the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent. It felt good, natural more than anything else. Like this is how things should be.
“Has anyone been in this bed since I left?” he taunts.
“You already asked me about that, and it’s still none of your business,” you respond.
“Can’t be too careful. Especially with a cute thing like you,” he says.
“Just shut up and go to sleep. Count yourself lucky I’m not forcing you back to the couch,” you say as if you could actually force him to do anything.
“It’s been months. You really want sleep more than you want me?” he teases and nips at your earlobe.
The drag of his teeth on your flesh pulls you back into the waking world a bit more. Your sleepy eyes open more and take in the sight of his face. He looked almost innocent in a way, like he was truly just asking for another chance to connect.
He leans in for another kiss, this time catching your lips with his own. His toned chest and abdomen pressed against the softness of your side, and despite his claims of being cold, he felt like a space heater the way warmth radiated off him.
You indulge him a bit, gently reciprocating the affection for a moment. But after a few soft movements of your lips, you pull away.
“We can’t… I shouldn’t do this,” you whisper through the darkness of your bedroom.
“Why not?” he says back. His fingers rise to your face, stroking over your temple, from your hairline to your cheekbone.
“I can’t do this again. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of believing you’ll be different and then you’re not. And then we break up again and then make up a little bit later. It’s exhausting,” you sigh.
“It will be different this time, babe. You recognizing this stuff shows that it will be,” he says and brushes his thumb over your lips. He moves even closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs.
The soft hum of his voice alone made you want to give in. Combine it with his gentle touches and firm body, you were fighting with your urges to let him ruin you. Your head tilts back to contemplate, and he takes advantage of the position to start peppering kisses on your throat, sucking love bites into the sensitive flesh.
“Toji,” you whimper, “Stop, you’re gonna leave a mark.”
“I wanna leave a mark, baby. Gotta remind everyone that you belong to me. Can’t have you forgetting either,” he mutters.
A breathy whine floats through your room, and one of your hands laces itself in his hair. You close it into a fist, giving the dark locks a little pull. Your mind was an echo chamber of don’t don’t don’t stop stop stop. But familiar heat bloomed between your legs as his large palm coasted up your side to find one of your breasts. The sound of his lips on your skin and his shallow breaths gave you heart palpitations.
“I didn’t forget,” you gasp softly as his fingers dig into your tit.
“Yeah? So you’re all mine still?” he teases.
“Mhm,” you hum, taking the last step to giving in.
“That’s right,” he says. You can feel his smirk against his neck. “My baby. Back where she belongs.”
“I missed you too,” you whimper as he continues the assault on your neck.
“I know you did,” he breathes as his tongue slides over your skin.
His hand continues to grope your breast. You arch into his touch, a wordless plea for more. He snakes the limb beneath the thin fabric of your shirt and finds your soft skin. With no barrier separating the two, his fingers toy with your nipple. They pinch and pull, twist and tease. They’re merciless until he feels the small bud start to peak. That acts as his signal to direct his attention downwards. 
He moves to be more on top of you. His thumbs hook beneath the hem of your shirt and pull it up over the swell of your chest. Immediately, his mouth latches onto the nipple his fingers had neglected. His saliva coats the area as his tongue laves on the skin, getting it to rise to attention just as the other day.
“Been missin’ these perfect tits,” he mumbles before using his mouth again, “No one else could take care of ‘em like me.”
You whine and squirm a bit, your hands staying firm in their grip on his head. You nod along with his words. A completely thoughtless gesture. You didn’t even fully register them. Your mind simply believed he couldn’t be wrong while making you feel so good.
As he works on warming you up, he begins peeling off your clothing. Your shirt comes over your head and falls off the side of the bed. Your bottoms are next, slid down and flung away from the two of you. He kisses down your belly before leaning back on his knees. His shirt meets yours on the ground when he pulls it off.
You’d seen it so many times before, but you couldn’t help gawking at his figure. Your fingers glide up his abdomen, feeling every ridge in his abs. He smiles down at your wondrous expression.
“Remembering exactly what you missed, hm?” he asks.
You reach up to pull him down to you at the same time he starts lowering himself. Lips collide and hands slide all over now bare skin. Your fingers find the familiar grooves on his back that they always dug into when he was buried deep inside you. His digits snake beneath your panties and slip between your folds.
“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he laughs against your mouth, “That’s probably just her natural reaction when I’m around though.”
You grumble in response and try to mute his words by making out. He cuts you a break and does shut up for once while rubbing your pussy some more and getting your panties off. It’s not long before he follows suit by freeing his cock and brushing it through your slick.
“Time to see if she’s as tight as I remember,” he grunts as he lines up and then sinks in.
Your heat engulfs him like it’s a natural fit. Your walls squeeze around him, the massaging sensation making his breaths more labor.
“Fuck… might be tighter. Think she’s begging me not to leave again,” he teases.
He begins thrusting, working his hips back and forth. He’s so big that he’s instantly hitting pleasure spots. You sigh and wrap your limbs around him more.
“Just be quiet,” you whimper as your cheeks burn.
“Not a fan of me making fun of you?” he mocks, “Doesn’t shock me since you didn’t before. You’re just usually more agreeable while stuffed full of cock.”
You go to argue, but the words in your throat die and shrivel up into a whine. Your body rocks with each of his motions. He’s not even going that hard yet, but you still feel his raw strength as his muscles flex against you.
“Aw, it’s ok, dollface. You just go a little dumb. It’s only natural for bratty girls like you,” he coos.
The whole time he continues, in and out. You stay tight around him, and you start thinking his theory about you not wanting him to leave may have some truth to it. This felt so good. So much better than the couple guys you’d had in between. And even though you are going to be fucked dumb soon enough, you’re not totally there yet.
“The only time you don’t act dumb is when you have your dick out,” you say between soft sounds of pleasure.
He grips your hips harder upon hearing your words. “That so?” he grunts. He picks up the pace, his pelvis making a loud noise every time it slams against your ass. “Like I said, the only time your silly little head isn’t clouded by your attitude is when I calm you down on my cock. So shut it and let all those thoughts melt away.”
And you listen because despite your little comments, you liked how it felt to lose everything except him. You couldn’t live without the feeling that nothing else in the world mattered but you and him. All your worries that plagued you during every other moment of the day transformed into distant ideas as the feeling of him battering into your cunt moved to the forefront.
And as much as you love feeling it, he loves watching it. He loves watching your eyes blank and become thoughtless, totally dependent on him to guide you to release. He was obsessed with the way you’d start to drool. Your inhibitions all but disappeared, and he couldn’t get enough. He’d never admit it to you, but he could never find anyone else with reactions that captivated him as much.
After an extra sharp thrust, your body seizes up and you shriek. “Toji!” you cry out.
“Mhm, never too dumb to remember that, are you? My little slut always knows who owns her,” he says.
You nod mindlessly, your head bobbing in wide movements. “Fuck me so good,” you babble, “No one else. Don’t want anyone else. Always gonna be you.”
“Good girl,” he grunts, “Pussy’s all for me. Takes me like it was made for me.”
“It’s all yours. Nobody else gets it,” you whine.
“Gonna be mine forever. Just look at you. No one else could do this to you. You ever fuck anyone else, and all they’re gonna get out of it is that they’re not as good as me,” he moans while ricocheting his hips off yours.
You gasp, getting to the point where words are an unrealistic concept.
“All your neighbors already know who this pussy belongs too. I’ve got you trained so well, I know my dumb little girl calls for me whenever she cums, even when I’m not there,” he whispers. His voice was starting to strain under the proximity of release. “Even when you’re just soooo mad at me. You press your toys to that pretty little clit to blow off steam, and you can’t help but cry out-”
“Toji!” you mewl as if he had been asking you. It was good to know your mind was still good for at least one word.
He grins like a madman and drills into you harder. Your limbs flail and your noises become short and rhythmic.
“You take any cock from any guy, and what are they hearing the whole time?” he asks.
“Toji!” you repeat.
“What was that? Don’t think they could hear you.”
“Toji, Toji, Toji,” you sob out.
“Good baby. Perfect little whore all for me. Never letting you go again,” he grunts.
“Never gonna be apart again. Gonna be yours forever,” you mumble.
Both of your breathing is picking up. Your chests puff against each other as your sweaty skin rubs against one another. It’s all a blur at the end, like always. You think you cum first, but as soon as you hit that high, you pretty much black out. The room spins and your vision fills with stars. All you really register are his groans that make your tummy flutter, and the feeling of his warmth flooding your pussy as he shoots his load inside.
This time though, the after part is fuzzy too. You vaguely feel him pull out and guide you to lay against his chest. You feel his lips against your head and his large hands cradling you close, but then you’re gone. You pass out and sleep till late in the morning.
By the time your eyes reopen, the room is full of sunlight. You take a second to remember the previous night and all that happened. Surprisingly, a sense of regret didn’t crash into you like a swat van. You actually feel some sort of satisfaction. You feel sated. The ache is gone at least for now. You have him back. As he opens his eyes and sits up to give you a kiss, you return the gesture in full.
“You gonna stay a while?” you whisper.
“Yeah. No reason for me to leave,” he says.
You give him another kiss before he lies down again and pulls you onto his chest again to rest some more. You sink into his toned body. He was yours again. You could admit now that you never stopped being his. As you lay there and absorb the dreamy atmosphere in your room right now, your poor heart truly believes that this time will be different.
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catboybiologist · 1 year
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Hi! I’m CatboyBiologist.
Formerly a femboy, now a trans woman just starting HRT, and a PhD student in molecular biology. I started using this online persona as a fun, shitposty way to explore gender a few years ago. I post selfies (generally sfw, but somewhat sexy, so minors and ppl who don’t like that have been warned), rambles about science, tutorials and advice from the stuff I’ve learned by being a femboy in the past, nature pictures, stuff about the ocean, my adorable grumpy little tortoise, and unsolicited opinions on random nerdy topics. Any pronouns are fine. I don’t plan to socially transition for a while, and still present as a man most of the time, so I’m used to whatever you wanna use for me (for now, I’ll update this if that changes). Please send me pictures of your pets or other cute animals in your life!
As a scientist, I’m also documenting my transition! This google sheet will be updated at least monthly. I also have additional metrics I’m keeping to myself, and pictures that go with this, but I’m not sharing them publicly yet. Keep in mind that this is just one person’s experience with HRT, and may not represent universal trends!
Adding a little something here, bc I think it was an interesting bit a writing: if you want to see me respond to a transphobe about what "biologically female" means, here's a thing I wrote about it. CW for transphobia and discussion, obviously.
Also, if any of my measurements look weird, its entirely possible I fucked up. Let me know if anything looks off!
Here’s some of my favorite pre-HRT pictures:
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If you want to see more of my pre-HRT selfies, browse the “femboy” tag on my blog!
And as of this writing, I’m only 2 days after the start of HRT, so here’s a picture with my tortoise that’s technically post-HRT (but with 0 time for actual changes):
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If you want to see my future post-HRT selfies, browse the “trans selfie” tag on my blog!
Also here's another really cute picture and fanart of my tortoise by @whalesharkcat:
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I have affectionately given my tortoise the title of The Grumpus.
I also wrote a couple of tutorials and general vibes about being a femboy before I started HRT:
Sometimes I make shitposts of myself, I don’t take myself too seriously:
This includes the way I came out on tumblr:
And here’s an overly serious, long ramble about trans thoughts and things that I wrote shortly afterwards:
Later addition: Someone asked how I take selfies, so I wrote a quick and dirty guide with some tips on how I do so in response to their ask:
Oh yeah and apparently I was a 196 microcelebrity? I never to thought I was popular enough for that but apparently some people do 🤷‍♀️. So uh, hi 196 tags, I'm abusing you for my pinned post LOL
As for terminology, I personally do think of myself as a “man who is becoming a woman” as opposed to having always been a woman. If that doesn’t resonate with your experience, I totally get that! But that’s why I freely call pre-HRT me a femboy, while still calling post-HRT me a trans woman. I’m also keeping the blog name as CatboyBiologist for the forseeable future, because at this point, Catboy just seems like a gender neutral term to me.
I’m also trying to put together a script for a podcast regarding how studying biology influenced my perspective on sex and gender- lmk if there’s any interest in that! It’s probably gonna be way too long and indulgent but oh well.
So uh. Yeah. I don’t end these types of things well. Byeeeeee
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lxclerc · 1 year
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𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 | 𝐨𝐩𝟖𝟏
summary... when you fall apart, oscar is always there to hold you together requested... yes! pairing... oscar piastri x uni student! reader warning... a bit of angst but overall fluff
note... another request from literally 9 months ago. let me know if you guys want to be added to the tag list.
𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
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you’re a mess. you try to hide it from oscar – trying to excuse the red eyes as nothing but lack of sleep. but oscar knows you well, maybe even a little too well. he knows you’re spiraling and you badly need a break and he knows you absolutely refuse to tell him no matter how many times he asks. you never want to be a bother and you never want to distract him from racing. 
oscar isn’t the most affectionate. this is a well known fact. he’s an awkward, quiet guy and oftentimes not knowing what to do with his arms and somehow you balance him out. you love anything physical contact, small touches here and there that oscar found oddly massively comforting. you’re the only person he allows to touch him anytime you want, the only person where it’s almost second nature for him to return the physical gesture. he doesn’t freeze up when you hug him the same way he does other people. when he’s holding you, he knows exactly what to do. 
and in that same way, oscar is the only person who knows how to look past your bullshit. you’re self sustaining and independent. you once believed you needed nothing from anyone, never wanting to be a bother to your closest friends and as a result, you find it difficult to accept help or any form of gestures for you. you never want anyone to waste their time doing something for you when you can do it yourself. 
which proved to be difficult when you and oscar started basically oscar absolutely loved doing things for you. whether it be preparing your ice coffee or giving you a massage or buying you that jewelry you’d been staring at. he absolutely adored showering you with gifts and acts of service. 
the moment the summer break started, oscar was on a plane to you as soon as he could. you aren’t expecting him till tomorrow but oscar had decided against staying in belgium for another day, getting his flight moved. 
he wanted to surprise you. he knows your midterms have had you stressed the past couple of days and the new manager at your job is a dick to you. you have your plate full and he knows you’re beginning to fall apart by the seams. 
you’ve always presented yourself as strong and independent but even he gets exhausted just hearing the things you need to get done daily. 
he knew you weren't at your apartment when he arrived. an hour ago, you’d texted him to let him know that your exam is about to start but he has a key and he thought it’d be good to order food for you knowing you didn’t have time to eat breakfast. 
but entering your apartment, he’s faced with a mess. books and laboratory papers are scattered around your dining table and clothes are all over your floor. god, it’s way worse than he thought. 
he first removed his hoodie, placing his suitcase in your room – that’s somehow messier than your living room – before he grabbed an energy drink from your fridge then he got to work, grabbing your laundry basket and putting away all of the clothes from the floor then he put bookmarks on the open books before putting it back on your bookshelf. 
it took a while but eventually, he got your apartment to become squeaky clean. he’s only just finished putting his clothes away when he received a text from you to say you’re on your way home, making oscar order your favorite food so you’d have something to eat.
you aren’t having the greatest day. to be fair, you aren’t having the greatest week either. or the greatest month. safe to say, you’re just not having a great time. 
you flunked that exam. you already know it and you already know that you’re probably going to fail the entire class and would have to retake it next semester. it’ll be the first time failing a class and quite honestly, it’s taking a hit at your ego. 
and somehow you’d have to find a way to pull your shit together before oscar comes tomorrow. the truth was, if oscar could help it, he’d fix each and every problem you’ve ever had and if he knew how shit of a time you’ve been having lately, he’d definitely try and find a way to fix that too. he hated seeing you upset, you know this. he doesn’t just dislike it like most boyfriends do, oscar genuinely hates seeing you upset. he’d turn the world upside down if it meant you’ll never shed another tear. 
which is why you kept it to yourself. he doesn’t need to know how much you’re struggling and drag him down with you. he’s finally in f1 and he’s having an amazing season. the greatest rookie since max verstappen. he has enough to deal with, he doesn’t need to fix your shit for you. 
your body feels heavy as you drag yourself back to your apartment, pulling your keys out of your bag only to find it already unlocked. immediately, your heart beats furiously, already thinking about intruders before you see the shoes by your front door. you knew well who owned it and you immediately pushed the door open.
your apartment, which has been nothing but pure mess the past couple of days now looks good as new. your floor has been vacuumed and the dirty dishes in your kitchen are gone. the clutter you’d left on your coffee table has now returned to its rightful place and your dining table is full of food from your favorite restaurant. 
you couldn’t help it. the past few weeks caught up with you coupled with the frustrations from your exams and you started crying. you refused to allow yourself to completely break down and now it was all flowing out as you sob. your muscles ache and your headache is persistent. you badly need to sleep but you haven’t eaten anything the entire day. you’re so so tired. 
“baby, what’s wrong?” came oscar’s voice as he heard your sobs from the living room. immediately, his arms are around you, pulling you off the floor as he pressed you against his body. he looks clueless as he watches you cry. he hated seeing you cry, it made him feel useless. and he definitely hated this, your entire body shaking with sobs as your fists clenched his shirt in an attempt to pull him closer to you. 
“what happened?” he asked again, sounding desperate. “are you hurt?”
you shook your head, burying your face against his chest as you tried to stabilize your breathing. “i’m so fucking tired.” 
oscar’s heart broke as he heard your hiccups. you’re still desperately clutching at him as oscar tightens his arms around you as though he can hold you together. 
“shh,” he muttered gently, planting a kiss on your temple. “it’s okay, honey.” 
for a few minutes, the two of you just stood there, arms wrapped around each other as you cried and eventually calmed down enough for oscar to slightly pull away in order to cup your face. he pushed back the strands of hair clinging to your face. you look pale and your eyes are bloodshot red, your lips chapped. 
“hey you,” he greets softly with a smile. 
that successfully pulled a tiny grin out of you. “hey.” 
“i love you,” he says, if only to remind you. 
you look like you’re about to start crying again when you nod. 
his smile made you smile too, already feeling much better than you had moments ago. his mere presence comforts you.
“how about a bubble bath before dinner?” he offers. 
you only nod as you wrap your arms around him again, burying your face against his neck as you inhale his scent. 
“i love you,” you say against his skin. “so so much.” 
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taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @rdtbattinson @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny 
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clanwarrior-tumbly · 8 months
Note
Hi! I have been reading you for a long time and would like to ask you something for the first time… The last message flow to the Lethal Company from the Nutcracker was WILDLY SWEET, however, it hurt me from the bracken that was shot through the lytic…. May I ask the bracken and the reader where the bracken constantly goes behind the reader's back…. JUST TO HUG! Someone from the team warns about the danger and the bracken gently takes the reader in his arms to his lair for even bigger hugs!
Bruh you have no idea how soft i am for brackens hfghhs (when I first started playing LC, they were ALWAYS killing me...but now they just like to pop out and scurry away when I look at them, so I consider us to be pretty chill)
Anyways woe Bracken fluff be upon ye <3
.....
Of all the creatures you've encountered during your time with the Company, Brackens were certainly the most complicated.
Even though there's been countless documents and reports of employees scanning, studying, and dying to these aliens...they were still seldom understood. The data on the terminal said so.
There was one in particular who had such a unique behavior pattern that remained a mystery to you.
And he lived on Experimentation, which was supposedly the "safest" moon to land on and gather scrap from.
Most of the time, however, that was a load of bullshit...as you and your crew had many encounters with aggressive lifeforms such as hoarding bugs, Thumpers, spiders, and turrets that were placed in the most inconvenient spots...
Hell, even an Earth Leviathan showed up and nearly consumed your entire ship.
As of right now, though, you were on-track to making the third profit quota's deadline. So a trip to Experimentation was an order, as you could grab minimal loot and still gain enough leftover money to buy some much-needed ship upgrades and tools.
Or maybe new suits or jack o'lanterns.
None of you were good at managing your budget.
But during this trip, you were less focused on getting loot and more eager to see....a certain someone.
Hopefully, he hasn't forgotten about you or mistook you for another random employee.
While two of your coworkers headed into the facility's main entrance and one stayed behind on the ship, you ascended the stairs leading up to the fire exit--armed with nothing but a flashlight and a walkie-talkie.
[Nearby activity detected!]
"Oh come on...can you be anymore vague?" You huffed, slightly annoyed that your scanner displayed the message before you could even touch the damn door.
"Activity" was awfully broad and could mean literally anything was waiting for you on the other side..
It could be a bunker spider or snare flea waiting to drop down on you and catch you by surprise.
It could be a Hygrodere spreading itself all over the floor, anticipating you setting one foot into it before drowning in its slimy body.
It could even be a simple turret ready to turn you into swiss cheese.
However, there's the possibility that it could also be the one entity here who didn't wanna give you a painful death, and you hoped to god you were right.
So you took a leap of faith and entered.
Surprisingly no danger was immediately present, although you did find a lot of good loot inside the room and smiled. "Oh sweet!" You grabbed the rubber ducky and Rubik's cube in the nearest corner, pocketing them. "This should set us way above-"
"Something's behind you!"
"Huh-?!"
All of the sudden, a pair of large arms wrapped around you from behind, pulling you back and causing your oxygen tanks to be pressed against the creature's chest-
Wait.
You only knew one Bracken that did that, and you couldn't help but laugh. "Oh my gosh, you scared me! You know you can't keep doing that!"
"Krrrrrr.." The entity purred softly, nuzzling his face against your neck as its leaves rustled with happiness.
With a chuckle, you patted his arm affectionately. "I've missed you, too, buddy. I told you I'd be back."
Knowing it was this Bracken, you felt safer than ever. He had a habit of greeting you this way: by sneaking up behind you like the rest of his species typically did, and attacking you.....not by snapping your neck like a twig, but by embracing and nuzzling you.
Of course, nobody in your crew believed that you've got a dangerous alien predator on Experimentation who always waited for you. Who loved you like a dog and would kill a Thumper for you.
If only they could meet him...but then again, he was shy.
"Don't tell me it's that damn Bracken again...did you tame it or something?"
The staticky voice of your coworker over the walkie-talkie startled the poor Bracken out of the hug, as it dropped you and flared its leaves out, wondering where they were.
"Relax, we're cool." You huffed, annoyed that they spooked your friend. "I gotta conserve my battery so...signal me when it gets close to midnight."
"....fine. Just don't die. Over and out."
After switching off the device, you turned back to him and smiled apologetically. "Don't worry. They're far away, so they won't bother us." You removed your helmet for the moment.
He nodded in understanding, crouching down to get a better look at your human features.
For some reason he never minded prolonged eye contact with you--and that was a good thing....otherwise, you would've been dead a long time ago.
You smiled and patted the top of his head, before he suddenly sprung up and scooped you up into his arms, lifting you completely off the ground. "Woah! Hey! Where are we going?" You asked as he carried you out of the room, taking you somewhere further within the facility.
Considering the Bracken knew his way around, you weren't too concerned with getting lost.
On your way to this unknown destination, you spotted a hoarding bug skittering down the hallway, eyeing the brass bell attached to your belt.....only to freeze as the leafy entity glared at it.
Luckily it understood the appropriate time to make eye contact with a Bracken, as it eventually looked away from him and decided to leave for another part of the facility.
It seems most of the creatures were knew who was the alpha.
'Man, whoever's tracking me must be so confused right now..' You thought to yourself as he continued walking.
Eventually you both arrived at a place many employees dubbed the "Bracken Room": a large open illuminated space with yellowish walls that looked out of place in the facility.
After setting you down on the floor, you looked at the Bracken with confusion, wondering why he decided to bring you here....until he brought you into another hug, wanting to sit down and have you in his lap.
You just smiled and wrapped your arms around him, giggling as he tucked his head underneath your chin, wanting to listen to the sound of a human's heartbeat.
Now you understood.
All he wanted was to take you to a quiet, safe place away from all the other monsters and employees. A place where he could have you to himself...at least for a couple more hours, anyways.
You knew the ship wasn't leaving anytime soon, so you didn't mind keeping him company.
While other Brackens are among the top three reasons employees hated their job...this one made you love it.
You feel so lucky, you'll consider buying a lottery ticket if you ever returned to Earth.
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sapphicmsmarvel · 7 months
Text
feysand x reader: the afterglow
set after getting together but you don't necessarily have to read that to understand this one!
under the cut bc its over 1K!
tw: a bit of anxiety
-After you guys officially mated, you knew the world was gonna take it weirdly. 
-There’s never been a triad bond that would be so well known. 
-To be honest, you were mostly nervous about how the inner circle would react. 
-You knew they loved the three of you dearly. But you also weren’t stupid and knew this was unconventional. You also knew you were freaking over nothing but alas, you were still anxious about it. 
-In the middle of the frenzy, Rhysand sent a message saying that you had accepted the triad bond and you three would be gone for a bit. 
-When you guys came back, it was a party. Mor had hung up a banner that said “congratulations!” There was a buffet table full of foods that Elain had clearly worked so hard over. 
-Cassian was…collecting coins from everyone?
“I bet that you’d be the first to make the first move.” He explained. 
Technically, he wasn’t wrong. It was you yelling at them that made the first move. 
“Did everyone know before we did?” you asked as he collected a few coins from Azriel. 
“Well, Rhysie isn’t subtle. Feyre was oblivious to your struggle just like she was to Rhysie-“
“Hey!” Feyre pouted. “You aren’t wrong, but hey!” 
You kissed her cheek. “And you!” Cassian pointed to you. “Are affectionate with everybody! Do you know how hard it was to convince Feyre and Rhysand that you actually liked them like that!” 
“I’m so sorry my reluctance to fuck our friends made your life harder.” You said dryly. 
He scoffed, “better be!” 
“Quit yelling at my wives, Cassian.” Rhysand said darkly, the alpha-asshole coming out. 
“Here we go.” Feyre muttered. 
“Made it two minutes this time.” Mor added. 
“Instead of two seconds.” Amren finished. 
Cassian gave you a smile that you had you wincing, because you knew what was coming. “Hey Y/N, want a ri-“ He didn’t get to finish because of the punch to his stomach from Rhys. 
“Welcome to the family.” Mor nudged you. “Even though you were already in.” 
“I’m just relieved I don't have to see Y/N pining anymore.” Nesta said from the doorframe. “Over twenty years of that bullshit.” 
You should’ve hit her harder when you were kids. 
Azriel, Lucien and Elain, like the sweethearts they were, just smiled without a sarcastic comment. 
-Your next worry was Nyx. How would you fit into his life? Would you be a stepmom or another mom? 
-You easily loved him more than anything, that was even before being mated to his parents. Now? Somehow you loved him more. 
-You were holding him one day when Rhysand sat down next to you on the porch swing. You were just enjoying the breeze with your-well it felt wrong to call him your son but you were his parents' wife? 
“How are two of my favorite living beings?” Rhysand said kissing you. 
“Good but what kind of greeting is that?” You chuckled. 
“I know he’s a person, but it’s weird to call him that. He’ll always be my baby.” He cooed and brushed back Nyx’s tuft of hair. 
Rhysand sat next to you, putting his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his side. You leaned as much as you felt comfortable with Nyx in your arms. You didn’t like not being on your guard when you were holding him. He was precious. 
Rhysand kissed your temple, you felt peace. You were just missing one vital part. Feyre usually came home from the studio around this time. Rhysand and you had accidentally made it a tradition to sit out on the porch and wait for her. 
“Do you want kids?” Rhysand asked. “You don't have to answer now.” 
“I mean, I kinda have one now. Kind of late to say no.” You giggled and gestured to Nyx. “He may not be biologically mine. And I can be a stepmom or stay Auntie. Whatever’s the most comfortable with you and Fey. I don't want to overstep.” 
“Would….would you be one of his moms?” Rhys asked, you could tell he was incredibly nervous. 
“I would be honored.” You whispered, your gaze never leaving the baby's sleeping face. 
You missed the look of utter adoration that Rhys shot your way. 
Pretty soon, Feyre joined you guys on the porch coming home in paint splattered overalls and a paint stained face. She was glowing, you could tell how happy that studio made her. It made you incredibly happy. 
She leaned down to kiss Nyx, then you, then Rhys who pouted about being last. But he was okay with it, he loved your family so incredibly much. It kind of scared him what he’d do to protect it. 
Later that night, Feyre came up behind you in the mirror as you got ready for bed. She pressed her head against yours. Your cheeks lined up perfectly and were smushed together. Her arms were wrapped around your waist. 
“You are his mother, if that’s what you want to be”. She whispered. “I may have birthed him, but I would be honored to share the mom spot with you.”
“Fey, I just did my skincare, you can’t make me cry like this.” You said, your voice wobbly. She squeezed you tighter in response, her nose scrunching with her closed mouth smile, her eyes half closed and lips scrunched slightly. She kissed your temple and went back to Rhys. 
That was that. Rhysand was dad/daddy, Feyre was mom/mommy and you were mama. 
-The next thing on your list was how the court would see it. The Inner Circle doesn’t give a shit (which was to be expected) but the Court of Nightmares? That’s where you were worried. 
They didn’t take to Feyre that well, then Nyx. Now you. 
Rhys called you out on your bullshit one night while all of you were getting ready for bed. 
“What’s up with you? You’re more nervous going to the Court of Nightmares than you were before.”
“Well, we weren’t mated then.” You said back, you tried to avoid being snippy but your stress levels were high. 
Clearly, he knew you were being snarky because he gave you a raised brow and held his hands up in surrender. You sighed. “Ugh, baby I’m sorry.” You said. You set down your hair brush and crawled into his arms. 
His chest shook with restrained laughter. “Love, you’re allowed to be nervous-“ He was cut off by Feyre coming into the room. 
“Ooh, are we snuggling?” Feyre said. And with the excitement of a five year old she catapulted into bed.  
The three of you bounced and laughed. “I’m nervous about going to the Court of Nightmares.” You admitted, playing with a string on the blanket to avoid looking at Feyre. You could avoid Rhys’ gaze easily since you were sitting with your head laid against his chest and in between his legs. 
“Why?” Feyre brushed your hair behind your ears. 
“Because…” You made a helpless gesture. “It's really scary.”
“You’ve been there before?” Feyre asked. 
“Yeah well I wasn’t fucking the High Lord and Lady.” You sighed. 
“Okay, you aren’t just fucking us.” Rhysand squeezed your hip. “You’re our wife. What label do you want them to know you as? Consort?-“ 
“I’ll rip your dick off.” You growled. “Consorts aren’t treated with the respect they deserve.”
“Agreed.” He said. 
“Do you want political power?” Feyre asked with zero judgment. 
“You know that’s not why I married you two.” You grumbled. 
“But would you want it?” Rhysand pushed. His hands roaming over your skin, he knew how much the contact helped your anxiety. 
You shrugged. “It’d be a massive adjustment. However….I’d love to help people and actually have the power to do so. But there’s…”
“Hm?” Feyre continued to stroke your palm. 
“This is gonna sound bad but I don't mean it to be.”
Feyre smiled and based on the pulsing down the bond, Rhys was too. So you continued. “There’s no room for me to help rule.”
“Who says?” Feyre challenged. 
You sputtered and Rhys decided to take you out of your misery. 
“You know, there also wasn’t such a thing as High Lady when Feyre came into our lives.” He stroked down your back, his hands ending at your hips. 
“And?” You asked. 
“I rewrote that rule, and I’ll rewrite it again for you to be in it. You are our equal in every way and I refuse to let you be reduced to a ‘consort’ that is, if you want to be a High Lady.”
And that was it. The next day, the day you were supposed to head to the Court of Nightmares, you delayed it. Much to the confusion of your Inner Circle. 
You were sworn in as a second High Lady. 
How the Inner Circle found out was quite funny. Az had a feeling, Nesta and the Valkyries were happy for you. Mor and Amren just looked at Rhys with a secret High Lady? Again! Cassian used it as an excuse to celebrate that night so the group could ditch their Court of Nightmares persona. 
When Azriel introduced you, he said, “Rise for your High Lord Rhysand, Highy Lady Feyre and High Lady Y/N.”
The three of you walked in, you in the middle, Rhysand and Feyre on either side of you. 
You felt beautiful, respected. Even though you knew Keir would be a problem. 
You were alright with those problems, as long as you had your family with you.
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chikai-k · 9 months
Text
We Need A Break.
•| Kaveh X Male Reader, hints of Alhaitham X Kaveh
•| Notes: So angst with the characters as parents right? I haven't written in a long time and all so this might be a bit janky in terms of execution. I feel like the ending is a little awkward but it's whatever, I just wanted to get something out 😞 It was originally gonna be Aether since my debut was an Aether fic but I decided I wanted to add my bbg Kaveh to my list of characters hehe also wrote this at 3-4am :)
•| CW: Kaveh is the baby momma🤧, male reader, cheating accusations, arguments, break? divorce?
Here we go.
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It's unhealthy to subject your daughter to this.
She doesn't deserve to hear your problems.
You and Kaveh have tried everything in your power to keep the issue away from her attention, to make sure she can't see the cracks forming.
How Kaveh would tuck her to bed, holding back a grimace as he spots the time. He tries his best to stall, she can tell. Kaveh doesn't want to leave her side. How his sweet voice would read her bed time stories as slowly as he could, sometimes staring at her with soft eyes as he presses a goodnight kiss on her forehead. She is his baby. He loves her with every part of his being.
She knows something's wrong. She could sense it before but you two can't keep quiet when the arguments get heated downstairs. She can hear you two from the floor. She can hear you throwing accusations, hear the crack in Kaveh's voice when he says he's not seeing his co worker—but you just won't drop it.
"I see the way you two look at each other." You say, "I see the way you guys give subtle touches." You know that they're probably texting each other about things to do when you're working. "The neighbours themselves have testified that they've seen Alhaitham enter our home when I'm at work for fucks sake! Stop lying to me." You growl, teeth baring at him as your face is flushed in anger, fist clenching by your side.
Kaveh hiccups and shakes his head, "Please, I'm telling you, we're not! Why won't you believe me?" His hand is gripping his wrist and is tucked close to his chest as if protecting himself. He doesn't know what went wrong.
"Then tell me why he's been visiting so much when I'm out! It's not like he's here for our daughter is he? She's always in school, so what else could he be here for?!"
"I—I can't—" Kaveh shook, how was he supposed to explain? He's not cheating, he swear but...
"Bullshit. You and that Alhaitham guy—ugh—" You inhale, your hand shooting up to brush your hair angrily. Tempted to slam it down the counter but you'd risk waking up your daughter from the noise. Hm.
Kaveh eyes your fist warily. He never knew you as physical so he wasn't worried—hoping he didn't need to but with how the tension was going, he was afraid he'd get hurt."What's so different about him and me? Is it the muscles? The income? The looks?" You seethed through your teeth, blindsided by the jealousy that you'd missed the way he stepped back cautiously. "Or did you just fall out of love for me? Or is he secretly our daughter's real father?" You huffed, closing your eyes as you tugged at your hair.
Usually, Kaveh would give you a massage, whisper sweet things and gently pull of your fingers from your hair out of concern. But how could he when he was...scared?
"N-no, I love you." Kaveh hiccuped once more, "I..." He bit his lip as he couldn't help the the tears from spilling. He couldn't bring himself to mean it. It felt forced, like he was saying it to survive and saying it felt wrong. I love you is supposed to be affectionate and meaningful, not like this.
"I think..." He sighs as he watches you gaze back, once furious expression softening in realisation at what he was about to say. "I think we need a break. To cool our head...I'm sorry." He struggles to finish, flinching as you attempt to approach him. Right now, he didn't know who you were. Actually, he hadn't know who you were for the past couple of months.
He just needs some space to breath, to find the words to tell you why Alhaitham had been visiting...
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quixotical-lymbo · 3 months
Note
howdy! hope your day is going well
if you're comfortable with it, could I please request macaque x reader general fluff headcanons?
reader is transmasc (or just male if you're not confident in writing that), chubby, very affectionate, and loves cooking.
thank you in advance. if you're unable to do this then I completely understand! 👍🏿
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Warnings/Tags: Post-S2, Trust issues, tooth-rotting fluff, brief implications of self-esteem issues, Macaque being an asshole.  Word Count: 900+ words 
 How you two met: It was an accident, honestly. Macaque wasn't even supposed to be hanging around people's apartments like some weirdo–but he had a bad run-in with a few old 'friends' in the neighborhood and he happened to pick the apartment with an opened window. Before he could leave the next morning, you had already seen him. Surprisingly, you offered to patch up his wounds and shelter him until they healed enough. Reluctantly, he agreed. 
First impressions: Macaque thought you looked weak and were too naive. Given by your rounder physique and softer features he assumed you wouldn't hold up against him in a fight if it came down to it. Those are some of the reasons why he agreed to stay with you at first. You thought this stranger was pitiful and lonely. Not only was he banged up badly, but he seemed…troubled and in need of a friend or two. 
How you two acted around each other as….: 
Acquaintances? Somewhat guarded, but that was a given since the two of you only shared each other's names before retreating to your own sections of your apartment. Macaque had the living room and couch, while you had your bedroom or the kitchen to whip something up for him. Basically, you two were unspoken roommates that rarely crossed paths unless absolutely necessary.
Friends? Warmer, Macaque still doesn't fully open up to you, but him cracking a few jokes here and there makes the mood between you two lighten up. It definitely helped that you took note of his favorite dishes and showered him in baked goods. 
More than friends…? Woah, woah, woah, bucko. Hold your monkeys! Macaque couldn't…no he shouldn't…why does he want to get close to you, but at the same time want to run away? What were you doing to him, was this some sort of witchcraft or something? Macaque definitely had a realization that he was getting wayyyy too comfortable around you and would be cold/wishy-washy with you for a few weeks until you confronted him about it. 
It was then he decided to take a leap of faith for the first time in a while and spill out what he was feeling (he definitely didn't say EVERYTHING EVERYTHING, but it was enough to get his point across). 
Thankfully, you felt the same way—confused, yet weirdly comfortable around him unlike anybody else you've ever been around. It was more than a comfy feeling when you were around him, more of a need to be in his good graces and wanting to be a bit more than 'roommates.' Macaque made you feel..safe, if anything. 
What does Macaque love like about you?
He likes how compassionate you are, but also hates how generous and naive you can be at times which he admits he takes advantage of sometimes.
He likes  how he doesn't even have to ask for things when you're already one step ahead and give him what he needs/wants, whether that's a hot meal, tending to his wounds, or even just being there for him. 
Another thing he loves about you is how unapologetically courageous you are.
You aren't afraid of most things normal would be afraid of (heck, you don't even kill any bugs that crawl in your apt.), and you aren't afraid of who you are. 
Sure, sometimes he witnesses you in a few bouts of self-doubt whenever you stand in front of a mirror, but he's always there whispering nothing but praises into your ear before slowly guiding your eyes to the parts of you that he loves. 
Macaque won't admit it out loud, but the fact that his man can cook, bake, and is a good person without all the ulterior motive bullshit makes him more smug than ever.
It's not that you're a prize, object, or anything, but the fact you actually want him seriously is an ego boost for him. 
My man, my man, my man 24/7 365. 
It's time for some fun lil' tidbits!
Macaque was confused when he saw your old family photos feature two adults and what appeared to be the girl version of you. When you explained to him that it was you before fully embracing your identity, Macaque understood and hasn't treated you any differently since, you're still his boyfriend even if he doesn't understand why you like him that much. 
Whenever you pepper his face in kisses, his body freezes and he is just a statue while his tail just starts writhing before curling around your waist. When you first did this, you were a bit startled by his reaction but after being reassured that he liked it (just wasn't used to so much touch, or rather physical touch that didn't involve being punched or choked) you continued. 
He isn't a big fan of being hugged from behind, which you quickly found out after being pinned against the kitchen counter–after a few apologies, you baked his favorite desserts and cuddled him for the rest of the afternoon. 
He loves teasing you about that one incident when you walked in on him undressing. It was hilarious watching you scramble around trying not to look at him. 
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🍜 - Please let me know if anything is amiss, this is my first time writing for a transmasc reader. I do not give permission for anyone to translate, copy, republish, or plagiarize any of my written works. I provide no permission for any of my literary works to be used in artificial intelligence. sparkle banner(s) by @adornedwithlight !!
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immodestly-marina · 17 days
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HEY WELCOME!!!
I always find one of the easiest things to start with is Alphabet hcs (NSFW or SFW)
Could you write one for Sam Winchester? ❤️
Yesss these are literally so much fun to write
Sam Winchester Alphabet Hcs (SFW)
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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Sam's a very affectionate guy, especially in private. His love language is 100% acts of service and physical touch.
He'll make you meals and little snacks throughout the day, and would totally take you out at least once a week. Though he's not huge on PDA, he'd definitely be somewhat "dominant" in the sense that he'd walk around with his hand on the small of your back, or holding your hand to assure you that he's always there (Also, forehead kisses bc he's like a foot taller than you).
B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)
Very protective and caring, as your best friend he'd definitely be a bit of a big brother figure to you. Always looking out for you and ensuring that you're safe with him around.
The friendship started when you went to Stanford with Jess and him. You were always around, he didn't like you much at first but eventually, you started to grow on him.
After the incident, you stayed by him to make sure he was doing okay, though he feared that the demon might come after you next. Naturally, he stuck with you, and eventually started bringing you along with him and Dean on hunts to keep an eye on you.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
BIG cuddle over here! I'm not kidding when I say his love language is also physical touch.
Sam usually sleeps on his back or his side, which can allow for you to sleep against his chest with one or both of his arms around you. He'll also spoon you, his head either rests against yours/cheek to cheek, or tucked into the nape of your neck. His hands always either hold yours, or are wrapped around you holding your tummy.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
He's always weary of longterm relationships... obviously. It's tough for him to talk about settling down, because he absolutely wants to, but that fear is just always in the back of his mind.
Nonetheless, he's our fav housewife. He's always been very tidy, and you can't tell me this boys not a good cook.
He absolutely makes you two dinner most nights, and all meals are made with love teehee
E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)
He'd sit them down and have a heart to heart about it, no bullshit like over text or a letter.
Sure they have limited time with all the chaos that comes with each hunt, but he'd want to be as mature about it as possible and ensure that there's no hard feelings. I also think he's the type of person to keep in contact with his past relationships, rather than just never speak to them again.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)
Babe, he was ready to propose to Jess after a year of being with her.
G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)
The biggest teddy bear ever. So, so, so gentle with you. When his hands are on you they're always soft touches, he'll guide you around by lightly placing his hand on your hip or your back.
As for emotionally, he is so considerate and understanding. Depending on the situation, he can easily get you out of a distressed mood by being patient and talking you down calmly from it.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
He loves hugs, and is a great hugger. Usually only does it when necessary or whenever feels right, he's not keen on too much clinginess but won't hesitate to pull you towards him for a little comfort.
He's 6'4 so he towers over you, he can't really avoid placing his chin on top of your head while hugging. His arms are so friggin big that his hands hold his elbows when they're wrapped around you. He'll also do a Little Rock side to side sometimes, cutie.
I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)
Most likely after the first two-three months of being together, but he's felt love for you since you came into his life.
J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)
It honestly depends. He's not super possessive, so it takes quite a bit for him to feel jealous. But when he does, he's more protective than possessive.
It goes back to the need for physical touch, he'll take your hand or pull you away. Again, depending on the circumstance, he would also step in front of you, keeping you right behind him. (No matter what, he doesn't strike me as someone to take his jealousy out on you either)
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
FOREHEAD KISSES TOP OF HEAD KISSES HAND KISSES
Very soft and loving (unless he's feeling needy but that's a whole other thing y'know), his lips taste like a minty chapstick bc I refuse to believe he doesn't carry any around. Look how shiny his lips are in the gif bitch.
He loves when you give him jaw kisses, you have to stand on your toes to reach his lips, and even then he has to lean down a little.
L = Little ones (How are they around children?)
S1 Sam is great with them! He'll do a baby voice to talk to the really tiny ones, and for bigger kids he'll just sit there and listen to them go on and on about god knows what.
S6+ Sam is so awkward with them he literally cannot fucking deal.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Realistically, he'd lay with you for as long as he can before he/you both have to get up for a hunt. You'd pull each other back down onto the bed as much as you can, kissing and whispering "Just five more minutes, please..." until it was really time to go.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
He's able to stay up late with you most nights, he'll either watch a movie with you or literally just have deep conversations with you, either way you're both engaged with each other as much as you can be!
He's a light sleeper, so anytime you move or make a sound, his eyes will flicker open to check that you're alright.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
He trusts you, he knows you'd never judge or be scared away from him, so after about a month of being together he starts opening up. He definitely doesn't dump everything on you at once, when it's relevant he'll talk to you about things like his nightmares, visions, and bad memories of growing up and Jess.
P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)
He's a bit of a hothead (as we've all seen), but he can usually calm himself down before he gets too carried away, especially with you. He wouldn't want to scare you, or make you feel like he's angered because of you/something you've done, so he's careful not to flip out completely.
Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)
He remembers absolutely EVERYTHING. From your birthday, to your favourite colour, to some random thing you told him while he was drunk.
He even keeps a little notebook of things about you he wants to remember.
R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)
The time you totally fucked up his hair.
"Just... easy, easy, not too much." Sam sat on a chair in front of you with a towel over his neck and shoulders, watching your every move in the mirror he was faced. You carefully trimmed the hair that sat in front of his ears, brushing the strands around to see if it looked even.
"Sammy, relax. I'm just fixing it, I swea-" Shnk.
You watched Sam's eyes widen in the mirror as the huge chunk of hair fell from his bangs to his lap.
"OH-kay, yep. We're done, I think that's good!" Sam said with a singular nod. He stood up and frantically dropped the towel from his arms, you jumped up to fix it with your fingers as best as you could, moving the gap of hair around to see if there was any hope.
"It's okay! Look, we can fix this, I can just cut-"
"No-no, no ma'am. You're finished." Sam chuckled taking the scissors from your hands, placing them on the sink counter.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Very. Sam is and always has been very protective of you.
As mentioned, he tries to always keep a hand on you somewhere, ready to pull/push you away from something. He'd do whatever he can to keep you safe, even if it meant sacrificing himself for you.
Him on the other hand, feels like he doesn't need to be protected (brat). I love making size jokes because seriously, what is standing in front of him going to do? "Sorry, Sam, I couldn't see you behind that grain of rice!"
T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)
He puts in lots of effort, this is where the acts of service comes into play. He loves getting you little gifts on each hunt, whether its a dumb little souvenir or something more romantic, like a flower.
He also likes taking the lead on things, telling you not to worry and that he can do it for you.
U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)
He's a teeth gritting nail biter. And, he wears socks to bed sometimes.
V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)
Only a little, he makes sure his hair is done before leaving but aside from that he's not too concerned. You aren't, so he isn't either!
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
He's not necessarily dependant on you. But at the same time, if he'd lost you, even just temporarily, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)
He keeps a scrapbook full of things to do with you. He secretly takes pictures of you when you're not looking, and saves them to add to said scrapbook.
He put petals from your favourite flowers in there, along with pages of your favourite colours, and a page with a sample of your favourite perfume/cologne. He loves you.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Someone who's super self-loathing or conceited, it's one thing if you struggle with insecurity or self image issues, of course. But constantly being around someone with too much negativity is too much for him to take, so that's an absolute no for him
As well as someone who's super, super clingy. He gets uncomfy with too much energy and affection towards him.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)
He sighs and hums a little in his sleep, its cute fr.
He also has little face twitches, especially when he's cold/not in the best sleeping environment :(
Anyone wanna see NSFW next?😋
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tteokdoroki · 2 years
Text
*ੈ🌩️‧₊˚— through the storm, there’s always you + katsuki bakugou.
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૮˶ᵕ ༝ᵕ˶ა synopsis — the one in which katsuki bakugou hates the winter, until you bring him a gift that changes his mind for the better.
⭑ warnings — please read + mdni ! characters aged up, fluff, strangers to lovers, mentions of injury, mentions of hospitals, pregnancy & birth ( non - descriptive ), winter babies, wholesome family content, not beta read ! - fem!reader, pro-hero!bakugou.
⭑ words — 1.8K.
⭑ notes — hi !!! merry christmas if you celebrate and happy holidays to those who don’t !! i hope you’re all keeping well and safe. here’s a little drabble for your troubles since i’m working on something longer that’ll hopefully be out in the new year !! so this isn’t beta read and i hope you enjoy !! mwah - m.list ✩
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katsuki had always hated the weather around christmas time. 
as a kid it meant being stuffed into itchy, scratchy sweaters that matched with stupid deku’s and being forced into what seemed like hours of pointless christmas card photo shoots tucked in next to the green haired, green eyed wimp. it meant mitsuki dragging him out of the comfort of his all night sheets early on December 25th to swap presents— her loud, irritating voice booming out Christmas carols with the words sung wrong as his pops set up a hearty breakfast and plucked wrapping paper from between the spikes of a young bakugou’s blonde hair.
back then, mitsuki would pull the cruel joke of putting coal in the younger’s stocking for a laugh and in response katsuki would hide all of her hurts to make it look like she had none. 
in middle school, katsuki spent most of his winter break running over school choices— learning the curriculum inside and out so that he could get into U.A. friends, family gatherings, festive…none of them mattered to him as much as his aspirations did, but he still helped masaru decorate the house and put up the tree— lit the fire because he didn’t run as hot as other people during the colder season. he hardly saw his friends, his posse, his entourage, whatever they were. they didn’t understand what it was like to work for something, to want to succeed…to make sacrifices. these were people katsuki didn’t need.
when christmas roll around at UA, katsuki felt like he was really part of something for the first time. his friends, kirishima and kaminari especially, begged him to cook the dinner— getting permission from aizawa after school to buy the ingredients, clinging onto his arms to keep him warm while asking him what went in what, affectionately pissing him off. 
there’d been a gift exchange too, and he’d tried to brush it off when his group of little misfits had presented him with a few exclusive allmight merchandise that hadn’t been collectible since he was a kid. ‘thanks,’ he’d mumbled, brushing an arm over his eyes in away that covered up the tears brewing in them. ‘idiots.’ aside from the celebrations and the small twinkle of happiness being surrounded by his classmates brought him— winter still sucked for bakugou. he’d discovered his quirk didn’t quite work the same, that he’d need to train a hundred times harder to be just as efficient as his peers during the flu season if he were to succeed and become a top hero like he’d promised himself as a kid. his hero costume required form fitting sleeves and a collar up to his neck that made him think back to that time where that villain had almost ended his life and he wasn’t quite strong enough to escape its reach. 
bakugou fucking hated the winter because of it.
the Christmas season starts to become even more intolerable once katsuki breaks onto the scene as rookie pro hero dynamight. he gets stuck with all the bullshit patrols like the Black Friday sales and Christmas eve last minute rushes for gifts because he’s not quite high enough on the ranks for the ‘real’ work yet. it’s fine, the blonde tells himself, anythin’ to get higher up  in the ranks. spreading the holiday spirit isn’t exactly his forte but the singles without families to go home to for the festives seemingly love spotting the desirable and explosive hero stalking the city streets, and it does wonders for his reputation too.
after bakugou’s first year as a rookie, do things pick up. he gets his first villain attack on december 24th, a simple robbery that he gets to handle all on his own— the prick’s quirk is fast moving, strong and nearly wipes the blonde out in one clear shot, sending him flying into the nearest building while other rookies evacuate the scene. 
“m-mister…uh, dynamight? a-are you okay?” 
your voice had been soft, your face the first thing he had scene when his vision realigned. blood trickled down the roundness if your cheeks, features aglow from the fires his quirk had set to your building— your humble little tailoring shop that he’d noticed was usually buzzing with customers  on patrol. “i uh— you hit your head pretty hard sir a-and there’s a villain outside— i don’t think you can fight it like this—“ you’d tried to explain in a hurry, the situation now obvious as bakugou’s head lay in your lap. 
groaning, he’d wanted to pull away from you get back up and take the damn villain down but before he could even move it’s quirk had sent another blast in the direction of your precious shop. one minute, bakugou’s life is flashing before his eyes and the next an invisible shield flies up in front of you both, protecting you from whatever impact had been coming. “‘m goin’ back out there,” bakugou told you sternly, gathering himself back up. there was no way a civilian should be doing his job, he should be protecting you, not the other way around. “stay fuckin’ put, till i get back. then we’re goin’ to a hospital.” 
turns out, you were great at following orders, by the time bakugou had taken out the perpetrator— you were more than willing to go with him to the hospital to get your injuries checked out. he stayed with you the entire time, he owed it to you at least. you’d saved his life, and sacrificed your shop but uttered not a word of complaint in response. and in the winter days that followed the incident, he visited and brought flowers and sat with you— learning about you, learning to love you right into the new year. 
bakugou’s spirits towards winter and Christmas had certainly changed since then. well into his thirties with achy joints, silvering hair and a stomach that’s a little less toned than it used to be— dynamight sits perched on the highest of buildings, a com mic pressed into his slightly muted ear. “ai’ght fuckers, let’s get this over with. the wife’s given me only a couple hours b’fore she can’t hold on any longer.” he grunts to his fellow heroes, ready to take down their annual Christmas robbery. 
it couldn’t have come at a worse time, katsuki promising you that he wouldn’t be working on the holiday for the sake of your kids— who needed their father just one day out of the year. you’d wrapped him up extra tight, a homemade scarf you’d worked on in the last few months slipped softly around his neck as you scolded him for taking up over time when he should have been with you, with his family.
“you got it kacchan,” izuku chuckles from his end of the line— positioned some ways away, his eyes also on the target. “operation kacchan’s home for Christmas is a go.” 
“agreed. i do not like it when mrs.bakugou is angry.” todoroki chimes in plainly, also accompanying the childhood duo on their mission.
“then keep yer eyes on the fuckin’ target— the sooner we can get my ass home t’what really matters this Christmas!” the blonde scolds his long time friends, rolling eyes eyes fondly as he sets his eyes on the target who‘d ripped him away from his family.
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“daddy! you’re late!” 
katsuki’s oldest just barely looks up from her phone— a gift from last year— as he rushes into the hospital waiting room still decked out in his ashy hero gear. kayako bakugou still accepts the kiss to her forehead from her father and the ruffle to her blonde curls once he’s close enough. she has his hair, the colour of his eyes but the shape of her features are undoubtedly yours— the perfect blend of two people completely and utterly in love. 
his vermilion gaze shoots to his son, kuzki— a quiet little boy who’s not quite like the rest of the bakugou bunch but equally as loving and as precious to dynamight himself. “sorry ya guys have to be here on Christmas Day, s’late too,” the man pinches his kid’s cheek, kazuki squirming happily, albeit a bit sleepy. “we can open presents later, after i see momma.” 
“s’okay papa! nana mitsuki got us candy!” he squeals, the eldest bakugou hiding her nose in her magazine at her mention. 
“ma!” 
“what?” she huffs back, nodding her head towards the door. “you don’t have time to have a go at me, katsuki. your wife is waiting for you.” 
both of the bakugou kids get a smooch on their foreheads, and mitsuki the middle finger ( discreetly and in his head because he won’t risk getting his ass kicked by his own mother in front of his offspring ). he stalks his way into your private hospital room, keeping his clunky steps unusually quiet as he spots you resting in your bed. 
“you’re lucky, she just fed and was about to go down for a nap, but it seems like she was waiting for a certain someone.” you coo but you’re not looking at your husband, instead at the tiny bundle of joy wriggling about in her swaddle, laying in your arms. 
the elder blonde approaches the two of you, curling an arm immediately— soothed by your warmth which sends the chill of winter straight out of him. “she?” bakugou questions, too tentatively for a man with such a misshapen and rough exterior. you pass the little baby girl off to him, letting him take in the scent of baby powder and fresh linen. “god, she’s pretty. just like her momma, huh?” 
“think that’s all you, kats, you know these bakugou genes wait for no one,” you breathe your words out in exhaustion, but a smile stays strong in your face like the blistering winds outside. “thirteen hours of labour and she still couldn’t wait for daddy.”
“‘m sorry i couldn’t be there, stupid fuckin’—“ the baby stirs in his hold, growing fussy as if she already knows the signature forbidden word of the bakugou household. “stupid freakin’ deku held us up at the mission ‘n i tried my best t’get here..” bakugou loses his words, staring at his his newborn princess with so much love in the world— she’s tiny in his arms, gargling sleepily as he bounces her, standing to walk the room with his new little girl and showing her the snowfall. 
the three of you are entranced by the first glimmer of the crystalline weather— the room swimming with a contrasting warmth that katsuki can bear to stand because it’s not a frosted winter. it’s a perfect love. his own oasis away from the cold. “s’okay kats, she just wanted to be the best christmas gift you could have asked for,” you murmur. “our perfect little christmas gift.” 
katsuki bakugou hums in agreement, watching eyes the colour of your own but the shape of his flutter with tiredness for the first time being out in the new world. and now with his little treasure, his darling daughter and absolute labour of love— katsuki bakugou is able to state his reason for finally finding appreciation for winter after all this time.
“merry christmas, princess.” he says to her wistfully. “and to you too, m’love.” 
“merry christmas, kats.” you whisper back, your voice to him like a call through the storm.
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