#Just mess with him too much then yeah- He’ll knock your teeth in

[whereismyhat5678]

can you draw the anteater x snail from the cuphead dlc Please

(I’m so proud of this you will not believe-)

Their just casual co-workers who talk about casual things- Y’know- the basics :]

ALSO I’M NOT NOT GOING TO SHOW YOU THE BACKGROUND BECAUSE IT TOOK WAY TO LONG TO DO AND I’M HONESTLY QUITE PROUD OF IT- (Even though it’s supposed to be blurry I’m so proud-)

Also Bonus: (Might be a bit suggestive Idk 👀💧)

[elliethefroggy]

Roy Kent: Minder Extraordinaire

(for those of you who prefer reading fanfics on tumblr instead of ao3)

Summary:

What if Jamie had actually done as Roy had asked all the way back in season 1 when Roy told him to get Colin and Isaac to stop messing with Nate? Or Roy Kent accidentally becomes Jamie Tartt's minder and regrets every step of the process until he doesn't.

Chapter 1: Roy Kent Has Regrets

The first reluctant step in their respective redemption arcs.

When Roy goes up to Jamie to ask him to get Isaac and Colin to leave Nate the fuck alone, he doesn’t have much hope that the little prick will listen to him.

When said little prick laughs in his face, Roy considers glaring at him into submission or knocking his teeth out.

Instead, Roy finds some relic of self-control within himself, a pool of patience so shallow it might as well be called a puddle.

“Look,” Roy says, “I get that you don’t give two shits about Richmond—”

“And you do?” The prick interrupts him. That puddle gets a lot smaller. “The way I see it, you give about as much a shit about Richmond as I do. I’ve been here for months, and what? Now you’ve decided to act like the fucking captain? Finally remembered that there’s actual shit that comes with that fancy title? That Alzheimer's really kicking your arse, innit?”

“Just fucking do it,” Roy says. Pauses. Very reluctantly adds, “Please.”

Jamie looks at him, eyebrows raised, a fucking bewildered expression on his dumb fucking face. And yes, okay, Roy doesn’t say please much, he’ll admit to that, but the twat’s been here for a while now; Roy has definitely used that word in front of him. Right?

“Yeah, alright,” Jamie says, looking at Roy like he’s got something contagious, “If it means that fucking much to you. I’ll take care of it; Nate’s a good lad.”

And because the magic fucking word was so effective, Roy decides to use another one, see what that can get him.

“Thanks,” he says, and walks away, leaving Jamie to his weights. He catches Jamie’s face as he steps out of the gym. Definitely one of the funnier expressions he’s seen on that prick. All scrunched up and confused.

The things is though, in some dark little corner of his mind, Roy knows he’s being a shit captain (not that he’ll ever say that out loud because fuck if he’ll admit that Tartt is right). He’s too stuck in his own head to give a shit about Richmond, too worried about how bleak his fucking future’s looking. Retirement striding closer and closer every time he steps onto the pitch with his bum knee.

The great Roy Kent, too busy raging over the end of his fucking career to actually do his fucking job properly.

And some not insignificant part of him thinks why bother putting in the effort now. Why not just finish up his career coasting at Richmond like he’s been doing, and then fuck off to become irrelevant like so many footballers before him. It’s practically a right of passage in this life.

However, now that Ted Lasso has come to darken the club’s doorstep, that plan is looking less and less feasible as the days go by.

(He decides to ignore that somewhat less insignificant part of him that’s relieved by that.)

Later, Roy rounds a corner to the locker room and sees the prick talking to Isaac and Colin. Roy backs away before they can see him and peaks his head around the corner.

“You’ve had your fun. It was a good laugh. But maybe ease up on Nate a bit, yeah?” Jamie says, doing that stupid thing he always does with his shirt, hands tucked underneath it, stretching out the fabric, “Don’t want the gaffer to think we’re a bunch of animals, right?”

Colin and Isaac look almost as confused as Jamie did in the weight room, but they nod solemnly and say ‘yeah, no problem’, before walking away, Tweedle-dumb and Tweedle-fucking-dumber.

Roy steps back into view, “Now, was that so fucking?” he asks and takes great satisfaction when Tartt jumps out of skin like the little baby he is.

“Fukin’ hell!” Jamie clutches at his heart, the dramatic idiot, “The fuck you doing sneaking around like some senile old ninja?”

“Making sure you keep your word.”

“Keep your fucking tartan socks on, grandad. I did what you fucking asked.”

“And I’m sure it must have been very painful for you. Are you alright? Did you pull something? Do you need to have a sit down?” Roy asks because he’s mature like that.

“Fuck off,” Jamie says, and storms away, further proof that he’s a fucking baby.

Roy thinks that that’s that; Nate can rest easy, Roy can congratulate himself on his good dead for the year, and he can go back to ignoring Jamie ‘The Prick’ Tartt. Except, of course, fucking Lasso has to go and put his moustachioed fucking nose where it isn’t wanted.

Sitting at the same table as Jamie fucking Tartt, about to be sold off like fucking cattle all in the name of the children was not Roy’s idea of a good time. Fuck Ted Lasso. And fuck his fucking moustache. Roy would pay the fucking charity triple whatever he was sold for if it meant he could go home and leave this fucking farce behind. Unfortunately, that wasn’t allowed; he’d checked.

Though admittedly, messing with Tartt, telling him he would have to fuck that old lady was fun enough, until Tartt stormed off again, Keeley chasing after him. The little prick has been doing that a lot lately.

But then Roy starts thinking about what Jamie said. About Roy being a shit captain. And watching Jamie walk further and further away is no longer fun. And no amount of beer seems to make it fun again.

After a while, Roy sighs and, against his better judgement, decides to be a decent fucking person tonight.

He regrets getting up as soon as he’s on his feet. Regrets every step that takes him closer to the prick.

He finds Jamie at the bar, peeling off the label from a beer bottle and ripping the paper to tiny, little shreds, Keeley nowhere in sight. Roy stands next to him and regrets it. Jamie doesn’t look up, his eyes fixated on the beer label, the bits of paper getting smaller and smaller. And Roy realises something (he regrets that realisation).

“This auction really bothers you, doesn’t it?” Roy watches as Jamie tenses, just enough to be unnoticeable had Roy not being properly paying attention.

“Fuck off.” Roy watches as Jamie’s hands let go of the shreds of paper and try to worm their way underneath a shirt that isn’t there. Jamie’s hands drop when they don’t find the fabric.

More than anything, Roy regrets that he’s starting to get concerned about Jamie Fucking Tartt. The world really is going to shit.

“You don’t actually have to sleep with them, you know,” Roy says.

“Yeah, I’m not fucking stupid.” But Jamie had believed them, hadn’t he? When Roy and Keeley had ganged up on him. He’d believed them, and he’d looked panicked.

And Roy is feeling shittier and shittier the longer this conversation goes on.

“Anyway, it’s just sex, innit,” Jamie says, “Not like it’s a big fucking deal.”

Except this was starting to look like a big fucking deal, because Jamie was still so tense, and if Roy looked hard enough, he could just about see Jamie’s hands, fisted at his side, shacking slightly.

“You don’t have to fuck anyone you don’t want to,” and Roy doesn't know why he says that, doesn’t know why he’s reminding a fucking grown adult about fucking consent. Only with the way Jamie’s acting, it’s starting to feel fucking necessary.

Silence, and then, “Yeah,” Jamie says. And Jamie took too long to answer, and now Roy's really starting to get concerned, and being concerned about Jamie Tartt feels fucking awful.

But before Roy can get into whatever the fuck that’s about, the auction’s about to start, and they get called back to their table.

Roy has many, many regrets.

Roy doesn’t even think when he does it. He’s starring at Jamie up on that stage looking as uncomfortable as Roy’s ever seen him, their conversation and the fucking awful implications behind it playing a constant loop in Roy’s head.

Then that perverted Shetland pony matriarch bids five thousand quid. Jamie starts looking desperate. Roy feels himself lift his arm up.

“Six thousand.” Those words come out of his mouth before his brain can even kick in and decide that no, that’s a fucking stupid thing to do.

He sees Keeley look at him as she places her unused paddle back on the table, bemused as fuck. Because of fucking course Keeley was going to bid on her own boyfriend; she’s the nicest person he’s ever met even if her taste in men leans towards those who are pretty and shit in equal measures.

And he knows that Jamie’s digging holes into his head with those fucking eyes of his much like Cheryl fucking Barnaby is doing, only he refuses to look at Jamie, because what the fuck is Roy even doing.

“Well, well, well,” Fucking Rupert Mannion opens his mouth, and why is he even here? “It seems the Richmond Captain wants a bit of one on one training with the gorgeous young man to my left.” And why the fuck did he say it like that?

Cheryl Barnaby bids seven thousand, probably wondering what Jamie looks like on a fucking Shetland pony. And because Roy’s already started this, he’s fucking finishing it.

He bids ten thousand and decides then and there that he’s disappearing off the face of the earth and moving to some fucking remote village in South America where nobody’s ever heard of him.

Cheryl keeps her mouth shut and doesn’t lift her paddle again.

Roy’s won.

Fuck.

Roy goes back to the bar and finds Jamie where he left him last time. Roy leans against the bar, his shoulder jostling Jamie’s. Neither talk for a moment.

“The fuck was that about?” Jamie asks after the silence becomes awkward enough.

“I was being fucking nice; it happens sometimes,” Roy says. You looked uncomfortable, Roy doesn’t say. “Unless of course, you want to spend a night with Cheryl Barnaby, Shetland pony breeder extraordinaire.”

“Fuck no,” Jamie says immediately. He takes a drink, so does Roy. Then Jamie asks “Was I, like, meant to return the favour?”

“Fuck no,” Roy repeats Jamie’s words, “This is weird enough as is.”

“I’m not going to fuck you no matter how much you paid for me.”

“Did you not hear that whole conversation we had about consent?”

“Just saying.” And then more quietly, “Thank-you” so quietly Roy barely hears him.

And Roy doesn’t want to thing about the vulnerability leaking into Jamie’s voice, so instead he changes the subject because Jamie is looking small and uncertain, two things that Roy refuses to associate with Jamie under any circumstance.

He brings up his old dickhead teammate, Doug Stashwick, and thankfully Jamie follows the change in conversation.

By the end of it, they’re both smiling and laughing together which is fucking weird but at least Jamie doesn’t look so small anymore.

Though, knowing that the prick had a poster of Roy on his wall when he was a kid makes the whole Jamie situation just a little bit shittier.

Ch2

[atlantic-sugar]

You’re My Favourite Gift

Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Summary: Presents and confessions

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader

Disclaimer: I do not own modern warfare or any of the modern warfare characters

Warnings: teeth-rotting fluff

Word count: 1.5k

Taglist: @benjification

Notes:

(c/g) = Christmas Gift

OOC GHOST!!

NOT PROOFREAD!!

Masterlist

“No way! You didn’t!” You gasped as you held up the new (c/g) you’ve been wanting since it came out in shops.

“Oh my gosh! Thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around Price’s torso giving him a big hug. He chuckled as he patted your back.

“No problem (Name). You deserve it after all the hard work. So do the rest of you. I know it’s upsetting that we couldn’t get home for Christmas this year, but I’m happy I’m spending it with all of you.” Price smiled.

“We’re all grateful for you too Cap.” Kyle started only for Johnny to interrupt. “So we’ve got ya a lil somethin’!” He hands Price a nicely wrapped gift.

Price takes the present gently. “You didn’t have to get me anything lads. I was already-” “See, I told you he would pull the ‘you didn’t have to get me anything’ card!”

The guys around you laughed. All except Simon. You looked over at the man who was lounging farthest away from the rest.

Deciding to make your way towards him, you started to get up only to hear a small gasp from Price. “Lads. Now this…this is something.”

Price looked down at the expensive packet of cigars and a framed picture of 141 after their first successful mission together. Gaz, Soap, Ghost, Quipt and Price. All together. Soap had so much dirt on his face Price pointed it out to Kyle beside him.

“Soap you look like an idiot.” Kyle laughed aloud. “What do you mean?! I look bloody gorgeous in any picture.” Soap exclaimed. Even though he knew he looked like an absolute mess in the photograph, he knew the meaning behind it was important.

“Yeah you fabulous in this picture too?” You asked, holding up your lock screen with a selfie you snuck with Soap one day getting the rest of the task force in the picture. Only you and Soap posed as the rest only looked up without realising they were in a picture.

“Gah! That looks- heheh I look great!” He awkwardly laughed. “Not going to lie, you look great with that filter.” Gaz pointed out. Everyone laughed again as the fire crackled from the fireplace.

“I have one more gift actually!” You got up from the carpet and walked over to the Christmas tree, picking up a small squared box.

“Simon this is for you- I know you said you didn’t want anything but…” Turning around you were about to give it to a special someone, only for them to be gone.

Letting out a small ‘oh’, you’re smile slightly faltered. “I’m going to go find him. He’ll miss the dinner if he’s gone.” You told the group who nodded at you. Most of them getting up to set up the last bit of the food.

Determined to get your gift to Simon you began your search. Looking into his office, nothing. Courtyard, nothing. Finally reaching his room, you saw a small light from under the door.

Taking in a deep breath you knocked on the door. Nerves banging up inside of you. You were finally going to tell him. Tell him how you feel.

“Who is it.” Simon’s gruff voice could be heard from his room. “Hey, it’s me. Can I come in?” You asked. Silence followed. You waited for some time to see if he’d answer.

Nothing.

You sighed. It’s not like Christmas was over because of this, but it was disappointing. Even after building up all that courage.

“Dinner is ready. So if you want to have it with the rest of us, it’s best you come down soon.” You mumbled and walked away from the door.

Before entering the room where the rest of the group were, you shook off all the feels and marched inside. You put away Simon’s gift under the tree again to keep it safe.

“Will L.t. be joining us?” Soap asked. You shrugged your shoulders. “I’m not sure. I hope he does.” Just as you two finished, the doors reopened and Simon walked in.

Helping Price bring over the rest of the food with Gaz, you all sat down. (Price sat at the top of the table of course.) You sat beside Johnny. While Kyle and Simon sat across from you two.

“Alright then. Let’s eat!” Price announced and Johnny immediately began to eat up everything.

~~~~~

Light Christmas music could be heard from the living room. Everyone had finished their food and have headed off doing their own thing.

Simon walked towards the fireplace and sat down. Looking and the flashing lights from the Christmas tree he looked over.

Noticing a small present underneath the tree, he stared at it. Curiosity eventually got the best of him. Getting up from the sofa he stalked towards the tree.

Kneeling down he looked at the small tag on the present. Doesn’t say who it’s from but there is a name.

To: Simon

He stared the small box. He thought about leaving it there. Maybe it was for someone else. Dumbass, he’s the only Simon around.

Slowly he began to peel back the neatly wrapped paper. Checking his surroundings to see if anyone had seen him.

He looked at the small black box. Slowly opening it, his eyes widened. It was a watch. A black watch with a silver designs engraved in it.

Attached to the leather band was a small ghost charm. He stared at the small gift in his large hand. A note was attached to the top of the inside of the box.

“Dear Simon. I know you didn’t want anything for Christmas but I had to get you something. I hope you like it!

Ps: I fancy you”

Simon stared at the bottom of the note. “I fancy you.” He felt a small smile tug onto his face. ‘Fancy?’ What are you guys in, secondary school?

He rose up to his full height with the box in hand. He felt his face was warmer than it first was under his mask.

He had to find you. Thank you. Tell you.

He left the room and began to yours. When you’re room came to sight he didn’t realise he picked up his pace and without thinking he knocked on your door.

No answer.

He knocked again and got nothing. Figuring that you weren’t in your room he began to look around the base.

After 20 minutes of looking for you, he found you outside in a warm coat and a scarf, looking all cozied up and warm even in the cold winter weather.

Hearing the door open behind you, you turned around. Surprised to see a 6,4 British man walking towards you with a small box in his hand.

Panic arose within you, realising he had seen the message. “Simon, I can explain the note…!” Before you could say anymore his arms were wrapped tightly around your smaller frame.

The two of you stood there in silence. You embraced him back to try and keep him warm, as he was only his a long sleeve shirt, jeans and his shoes.

“You have no idea, what’s going on right now do you?” He mumbled against your shoulder. You shook your head. “No, but I like it” you smiled.

Simon took in a deep breath and sighed, his warm breath slightly grazing over your cheek as he lifted his face from you shoulder.

Only now noticing his mask had been brought up over his mouth and just resting on his nose. “Me too.” He whispered a reply.

“I appreciate what you do, and have done for me.” He mumbled. A small heat starting to rise in his cheeks. Looking up at the man you slowly took his hands.

“We should probably head inside. It’s starting to get really cold. I don’t want you catching a cold.” You smiled up at him. Simon nodded.

Following you closely behind Simon stopped you when the two of you entered back into the warm building.

He took you by your arm and turn you around. “Simon what’s going on..?” You tried to speak, only to feel rough, scarred lips on yours.

Taking some time to understand what’s going on, you’re kind went fuzzy. Simon Riley.

Kissing you?

Without even noticing you kissed him back. His hands rested on your waist while he leaned down to reach you, as yours rested did around his neck.

He slowly pulled back from the kiss. Your lips unconsciously chased after his as he stood back to his usual height. You opened your eyes, to a surprise.

“Why…? Out of the blue…?” You whispered your questions as you took in all the facial features of the man in front of you.

Dirty blonde hair cut short but still long, the cold icy blue eyes, the small scars that were littered around his face. His chiselled jaw, and sharp nose.

Simon took your face in his large hand. You could sense his nervousness from feeling so exposed to another person. He sucked in a deep breath.

“There was a mistletoe. That’s what we’re supposed to do…right?” Your face burned as Simon’s eyes looked down at you fondly.

His face moved towards your shoulder and rested up above your collarbone. Feeling his warm breath beside your jaw, you shivered.

“I fancy you too and not only is this watch the most thoughtful gift…” His face lifted from your shoulder and looked you right in the eyes.

“You’re my favourite one.”

25-12/22

A/n: I hope you enjoyed that! Merry Christmas everyone! I hope you have a lovely day and a happy new year! <3

[hellotherekenobi]

Smile for the Cameras.

Summary: you’ve been dating Eddie Munson for a while now, happily in secret so that the two of you can have some privacy, but now you want him to meet the family and it turns out they have a secret of their own.

A/N: this one goes out to my enabler @megmeg-chan but this time I have wrapped it up in a nice bow and delicately place it on your doorstep before knocking and running down the driveway like a madman.

Word Count: 7k

CW/TW: Byers!Reader/fem!Reader; Bob lives AU; multiple POV; mentions of drugs; season four, volume two didn’t happen.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Here’s the thing—plain and simple—there aren’t a lot of good guys in Hawkins. Sure, there are your brothers, Will and Jonathan, but they’re family. There are also Will’s friends who, admittedly, are a lot of fun. Oh, and Steve... he’s a good guy, too...

Well. All right. There are a few nice guys in Hawkins, but they aren’t the majority. You’re happy to know that your mother has herself a good guy who really cares about her but, as your brothers will agree, you knew he was the best of the best from the moment you first met him.

Bob immediately hit it off with Will, which you’ve always been grateful for. After so many bad things have happened in Hawkins, it’s about time your brother gets some normality back in his life. Wholesome normality, too. Jonathan was a little more standoffish but he caved in pretty quickly when Bob mentioned how much he likes The Clash.

You, being the eldest, and also the closest with your mom, were ready to tear him to shreds if he so much as belittled her, but he was making you laugh within five minutes and offering a ride out to Scoops for ice cream so, yeah, you liked him from the start.

Now, you get to call him your dad.

Not all children get to see their parents get married, and you’re happy to be one of the few. Jonathan bought a new camera for the day and all of the pictures were either put into a scrapbook or framed around the house, which Will helped out with glee.

There’s a big one in the living room of the five of you, all wide smiles and arms around each other. Looking at that picture makes this place feel like home.

It’s as much of a benefit to your mother as it is to your brothers. You as well. Lonnie was a real jerk. It didn’t take a scientist to figure that out. He was hardly around and that was always bad for the boys, seeing as they grew up without a positive father figure. You’ve inherited some of your mom’s rage, so you never played the role of respectful daughter to Lonnie.

When he left, you thought ‘good riddance.’ When you saw how much it hurt your mom and your brothers, you thought of how easy it might be to get away with murder.

With Bob, you only think about how happy he makes everyone. It’s a big contrast and something your family had to warm up to, but he’s so naturally caring that it didn’t take too long.

The only thing that you’re still struggling to adapt to is Bob’s tech-savvy side. He works at Radio Shack and, you’ll admit, at first you didn’t think he’d be as good of a technician as he is, but every now and then he’ll bring work home and you get to see him tinker away at things with your own eyes.

All of that stuff goes over your head. About the only thing you know when it comes to electronics is the switch for the television set and what button to press to delete the footage Jonathan sneakily records with his video camera when you’re a groggy mess in the morning just trying to brush your teeth.

The day Bob put cameras up at the house, you knew you were screwed.

“It’s so we can catch the burglars,” he said, halfway up a ladder and screwing a dome into the side of the house.

The only burglary that’s happened here was from the drunk guy who nabbed the electric mixer during the garage sale, and your mom chased him down the driveway with Jonathan’s old baseball bat.

“We’ve got locks,” you said.

He had chuckled and went off on a tech spiel about how ‘we’re diving into a new age,’ and what exactly the cameras could do but, if you’re honest, you weren’t paying attention much to the specifics of it all. The minute Bob talks shop, you hear white noise.

Granted, he always tries to explain things in simple terms for you and for that you’re thankful. He simply continues to prove how much of a good guy he is.

But you’ve got a good guy, too, and you think he’s pretty fantastic. Not that many people will agree with you but, to each of them, you think that they’ll never know just how fantastic Eddie Munson is. They’re missing out big time.

Your family is missing out, too, since you’ve been keeping your relationship with him a secret. The thing is, you like having something for yourself. Growing up with two younger brothers in a small town doesn’t give you a lot of privacy.

You’ve shared one bathroom your whole life. You take the smaller portion for dinner (when your mom’s not looking.) You cancel plans to look after Will on late nights. So, yeah, you’re going to have something for yourself for a change and you’re going to enjoy it.

In so many words...

The first time Eddie tapped on your bedroom window, you opened it with an infernal glare that would put the name ‘Hellfire’ to shame, berating him for waking you up and for being at your house in the first place. Does he not understand the meaning of a secret relationship?

But he flashed you a toothy grin, said he missed you, and when he gave you those damn dark brown puppy dog eyes, you had begrudgingly let him in. For. One. Night. Only. Which turned into two, then three, then five, then... well, you’ve lost count at this point.

The thing you hadn’t realized at the start is how clingy Eddie is. He’s got to be around you three times a day like he’s your breakfast, lunch, and dinner. When he laid his head in your lap on the third night he snuck in through your bedroom window and practically sobbed when you carded your fingers through his hair, you knew that the sweet Eddie Munson is touch-starved.

So—with the backbone of a chocolate éclair—you let Eddie stay the night pretty often. He rocks up at the same time, so, after a while, you don’t wait for the tap on the window, you just keep it open and hug him tight when he’s got his footing. Then you talk with each other until one of you falls asleep, waking up the next morning with tangled limbs and that gorgeous, messy bed hair that he’s never understood why you like so much.

It baffles you that he doesn’t realize just how pretty he is. Anytime you tell him, he jokingly asks if you’re only with him because of his looks, and you tell him every time that you’re with him because of who he is. But, also, because he’s too handsome to resist.

If you didn’t want to hold onto this secrecy for a little bit longer, you’d be parading him throughout the streets. ‘Look at my boyfriend. Look at how well my boyfriend plays the guitar. Look at how my boyfriend looks at me.’ He’s so not ready for that.

But the two of you can’t hide forever and you know it, even more, when he’s resting against the headboard of your bed, finger twirling a strand of his hair as he thinks in silence. He always scrunches his nose up when he’s deep in thought and it’s the cutest thing.

Seriously, how is it fair that he can be both adorable and attractive?

“Stop that,” you say, reaching over to tap the finger in his hair. “You’ll grow bald.”

He smiles, bringing his hand down to instead rest on your arm which is wrapped around him.

“What are you thinking about?”

“What?” He chuckles.

“You get this adorable crease right here—” you poke between his eyebrows, “when you think too hard.”

Eddie smiles. “You stare at me that much?”

“With a face like yours, yeah,”

Quiet moments like these have always been your favorite, whether or not that’s in your bedroom. When you can be with Eddie, just the two of you, everything else stands still.

You’ve been to his trailer plenty of times and you’ve met Wayne on many occasions as well. He’s been very supportive of your relationship with Eddie, having once said that he’s glad Eddie has someone who can ‘deal with his quirks.’ Truthfully, you admire those quirks of his.

When Eddie’s smile turns mischievous, you already know what he’s going to do before he does it. Yet, you’re still not quick enough to stop him from tickling you and burying his face in your neck, blowing raspberries on your skin.

You let out a short squeak, slapping his arm and pushing him off of you when you feel his lips curl against your neck.

“Stop!” You try to whisper but can’t help from laughing. “We’ve got to be—”

“Quiet, I know,” he nods, his smile an inch smaller.

It’s not the ideal relationship, you know that, having to hide all the time. The veil will lift sooner or later. It just turns out that he’s wanted it sooner since that fault in his smile can only mean one thing.

“I’m going to tell them soon,” you say. “I’m just figuring out how.”

“Well,” he absentmindedly traces circles on your skin. “I was actually wondering if you could ask your dad something for me,”

“Oh?”

“I only get paid so much for my gigs and I’m kinda running on empty right now, so I was hoping your dad would have a spot free at his job?”

“You wanna work with my dad?” You ask, sitting up.

He nods his head, a crease again at his forehead. “I know a thing or two about fixing things and, I mean, Radio Shack ain’t that bad a place to work in. At least, until I can find something stable.”

“Like he wouldn’t offer you full-time right off the bat,” you chuckle, playfully hitting his arm.

“Well, I don’t know,” he beams.

You tap your finger against your chin, feigning consideration, then dip forward to press a quick kiss to his lips.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you say.

“Yeah?” He smiles.

“Yeah, and maybe you could...” you shrug your shoulders, “come for dinner. Get to know him a bit.”

Eddie lights up, his smile warm and soft. “I’d love that,”

Truly, there’s nothing you’d love more than for your parents to finally meet your boyfriend and, hopefully, approve of him. You don’t have any worries that they’ll kick him out, but you can’t help but feel like something will go wrong.

Everything will be okay as long as you don’t mention that you’ve been sneaking Eddie in through the window almost every night. After all, how would they ever know unless you say something?

─────── ⋯ ───────

Sometimes, this house feels like chaos.

It’s one thing to be late for school—and work—but it’s another thing for the power to be out, so no one is ready to leave. Joyce had woken up to the neighbor’s car backfiring and when she saw the alarm clock on her bedside table flashing at her, she had hit a sleepy Bob on the chest and scrambled out of bed.

After grabbing whatever is closest to dress herself with, she’s barrelling down the hallway, slapping a hand onto each door she passes, swinging it open, and calling inside for her kids to wake up. But when she reaches your door, she finds that it’s locked.

“Hey,” she hits the door once, “come on, we’re late.”

She’s happy to hear a ‘be right there!’ from inside the room, so she spins around and tucks in Jonathan’s shirt when he practically trips through his doorway and then gives Will a kiss on the cheek when he steps out of his room.

Bob’s struggling to get his tie on straight when Joyce walks into the living room and she gives him a sympathetic smile, reaching out to tighten it for him.

“How do you still manage to look so beautiful when you’ve just woken up?” He asks, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh, Bob,” Joyce smiles, flattening his shirt collar.

“I can drive the kids to school,”

“No, that’s okay. I can do it.”

“I can drive them on my way to work. It’ll be easier. Plus, I get to spend some time with them.”

It never amazes Joyce how after three years, Bob still wants to be as close to her kids as possible. The truly beautiful thing about that is how they want to be just as close to him as well.

“It’ll be great,” he smiles, giving her a quick kiss and scooping the car keys off of the coffee table.

He jingles them in his hand as he calls out to the family that he’ll be their driver for the morning, patting Will on the back who’s been scooping papers and books into his backpack.

“Here, mom,” Jonathan says beside Joyce, handing her an overspilling mug of coffee.

“Oh, Jonathan, thank you,” she smiles, pulling him to her to plant a big kiss on his cheek.

He chuckles, craning his face away from her with a loud ‘mom!’ which she laughs at. When he’s jogging over to the front door, another one of Joyce’s kids creeps up beside her and she tries not to spill even more coffee onto the floor.

“Hey, Jonathan!” You call and he spins around. “I’m taking the car this morning, okay?”

“No, I’m driving,” Bob smiles, jingling the car keys again. “I’ll finish an hour early and pick you up from work.”

Jonathan snickers. “You can’t always be the driver,”

“Hey,” you put your hands on your hips. “I bought that car, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just go,”

Being a big family of five, there are only three cars shared between you all. Joyce has her car, Bob has his, and you had bought a car in your senior year of high school which was passed down onto Jonathan after you graduated, now that he’s in his senior year.

Every so often, driving arrangements change. Sometimes Joyce will drive everyone, sometimes you would take the boys to school, and sometimes Bob will drive the whole lot. Exactly what he’s doing this morning. Good timing, too, as Joyce has plans in the afternoon.

The great thing, which is as much of a relief as it is appreciated, is how no one complains. The only time Joyce has ever heard an argument about who gets the car you bought is when Jonathan has a date with Nancy and you have other plans. But fights never get out of hand around here, thankfully.

“Look at you,” Joyce tsks, placing a hand on your cheek. “Did you not get any sleep last night?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say, rubbing your eye with the back of your hand. “I guess work is just wearing me out.”

“Maybe you should call in sick?”

“Next time,” you smile.

She rubs your back, giving you that motherly smile she knows she’s adopted over the years.

When Will finally has his backpack sorted, he calls out a goodbye and races over to Jonathan who gives him a one-armed hug, walking out of the door together. Another relief, knowing that everyone is so close with each other. Even more so because of all of the strange things going on in Hawkins.

“Hey, mom, I want to ask you something,” you say, stepping in front of her.

“Okay,” she looks down at her watch. “Just don’t be too late.”

“I won’t. The thing is... I’ve been seeing this guy and I was wondering if maybe he could come over for dinner so that everyone can meet him?”

The mug almost slips from Joyce’s hands when you say that and she reminds herself to act calm.

“Huh?” She speaks, shrugging a shoulder and putting on a casual face. “Oh, yeah. That’s fine. Whatever you want, sweetie.”

“You sure?”

The look you give her makes Joyce thinks she’s caught but she keeps playing it cool, hoping that you won’t poke around. You’ve never been one to let things go easily. She supposes you get that from her.

“Of course. I’d love to meet him.”

“Great, me too,” you smile, giving her a quick hug.

With a goodbye, you’re out the door where Bob is still waiting, sending Joyce a wink which she nods to and then he’s gone.

Honestly, Joyce already knows you have a boyfriend. There isn’t a lot that hides under her nose, especially in her home, but she’s got to give credit where credit is due and thank Bob for installing all those cameras around the house.

It’s how they found out in the first place. Bob was in his study, pouring over all the security footage like he does every night after work. The kids were either watching TV or in bed—which you were, seeing as you were so eager to go to sleep.

He waved her in with a ‘Joyce, honeybun, I think you need to see this,’ when she came to ask if he wanted anything, and she stood beside him as he rewinded the footage and pointed at the figure creeping along the back of the house.

“Is that a burglar?” She gasped, leaning forward to squint at the screen as if she could make out who it was.

“I don’t think so,”

“Why is he climbing in our window?”

“Honey, that is our daughter’s window,”

It only took her three seconds of scrunching up her eyes at Bob who gave her a knowing look for her to understand what was going on, all the dots connecting in her head.

“She has a boyfriend!?” She practically screamed, quickly lowering her voice when she remembered the study door was wide open. “And she didn’t tell me?”

“It’s okay,”

“Bob, she’s got a boyfriend—” and then within another breath, she smiled excitedly. “This is so great!”

After all the horrible things Hawkins has to offer had happened, really throwing hands at her family, Joyce was over the moon with joy when she found out about your secret relationship.

It’s hard to go back to a routine when you’ve faced demogorgons on the weekend, especially when they were so close to hurting them—her boy, Will, and Bob as well. So, to know that you were acting like a regular teenager made her the happiest she’s been since she said ‘I do.’

To think, her child, regular at last.

She and Bob had both agreed to not say a word. If you were keeping the relationship a secret, it had to be for a good reason, and they knew that, in time, you’d eventually tell them.

But it would get a little hard to keep a poker face when she’d hear your bedroom window slide open, or that time he had tripped on his way in and landed on the floor loudly, or when she had caught you on your way back to bed with a glass of water, shutting the door when she approached and noticing the leather jacket that was caught in between it.

There isn’t anything wrong with leather jackets and, truly, she’s had a thing for guys in leather before, but she just hopes that whoever this guy is—as all she’s ever seen of him is from the security footage, so she’s only made out long hair and dirty shoes—that he’s not some kind of delinquent.

Now, she’s going to find out just who your mystery boyfriend is and she hopes he likes chicken because that’s all she’s got in the fridge.

─────── ⋯ ───────

When you tell Eddie that your mom is more than happy to have him over for dinner, he smiles wider than the day you told him that you had listened to Iron Maiden. But when you say that she is happy for it to happen the same night, his face drops like a ton of bricks.

“Tonight?” He asks, fiddling with his rings. “Like in... five hours?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, pulling him in by the vest to wrap your arms around him. “Is that too fast?”

“No, I just...”

“What?”

“I was going to buy some nice clothes...”

You feel your heart do the running man in your chest with how he wants to make a good first impression on your parents, but you know it’s not needed.

“Eddie, if you just be yourself, they’ll love you.”

He grins at that, pulling you in close to kiss you. His lips taste like the strawberries you both shared for lunch, though you had wanted him to eat an actual meal. When it’s not particularly busy at work, you eat lunch with him in the staff room, even though he stops by almost every day to say hello.

There were a few times when you had to hide him behind the counter when your dad gave you a surprise visit, offering a bag full of lunch he had bought on his way over. The little stinker Munson would pinch your thighs for fun and once you had kneed him directly in the chest, slamming him back against the shelving and having to play off his groan as you accidentally knocked your knee.

Eddie can’t help it. He loves to have fun and by any means possible, really. You just know that after tonight when you both don’t have to sneak around anymore, he’ll be twelve times more sprightly.

“How’s your campaign?” You ask, reaching over to grab the package of Cheez Balls he had brought with him.

“Good,” he nods, diving a hand into the tin as soon as you open it. “Will’s a really smart kid.”

“Yeah, I saw him throw some character sketches into his bag before we left this morning. He loves those sessions with you.”

That’s how you first met Eddie, through your baby brother’s fixation with Dungeons and Dragons. He was so happy to know that there was a club going on at high school, having feared that everyone would have grown out of it by now, and so joining Hellfire is one of the best things that’s happened to him recently.

You’re always going to be extremely thankful to Eddie for taking in your brother like he has. You’ve always looked out for him and this year has been the first that you haven’t had anything strange happen, so he’s getting the chance to be a normal teenager.

Really, in a way, Will is the one to thank for you getting with Eddie. When you had picked up your brother from a session one night, Eddie had walked him out to the car and instantly you were in love.

All Eddie has ever done since the start is shown in many different ways how much he cares for everyone and how big a heart he has. If that isn’t attractive, you don’t know what is.

Oh, wait a minute. His rings...

He pipes up, “Do you think it’ll be weird?”

You’re thrown out of your thoughts by his question but you don’t exactly know what he means.

“What will?” You ask, popping a cheese ball into your mouth.

“The fact that Will is going to find out that his Dungeon Master is also his sister’s boyfriend.”

You shrug. “He’ll be fine with it. Might be a little surprised but I think he’s gonna love the fact that his favorite DM is with his favorite sister.”

Eddie laughs. “You’re his only sister.”

Furrowing your brows, you chew on another cheese ball. “What’s your point?”

He finds that even more fun but you just smile in victory at having made him laugh. He might love Metalica and Black Sabbath, but you’re always going to believe that his laugh is the best song in the world.

No band can beat that.

When Eddie eventually leaves with a kiss on the cheek and a wave goodbye, you count down the minutes until your shift is over. You spend the rest of it idly as it’s pretty quiet today until your dad picks you up an hour early from his job just as he promised.

When you arrive home—Jonathan and Will having been picked up by your mom—you walk into the house that smells of smoke and the sounds of frustrated murmurings.

“What’s going on?” You ask as you and your dad step into the kitchen after giving each other a look.

There’s a dark cloud hanging over in the room as your mom waves an oven mitt at the open oven. She spins around at the sound of your voice, flashing an anxious smile.

“I burnt some of the chicken,” she says, scratching her head.

“Oh, honey,” Bob coos, walking over to her and peering into the oven. “It doesn’t look too bad. There’s still more than enough for the six of us.”

“I still have to make a salad,”

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, shrugging your jacket off. “Let me get changed and I’ll make one.”

She breathes out a relieved ‘thank you,’ as you head to your bedroom and on the way, you bump into Jonathan who has got half of two shirts on; one sleeve on one arm and the other sleeve on the next.

“Hey,” he smiles, but quickly looks back down at the shirts. “Which one do you think is better?”

You furrow your brows, perplexed at what your brother is doing.

“Is Nancy coming over?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “No, I’m asking for you.”

Smiling, you can’t help but feel really happy about how much he cares. Despite being younger than you, he’s always acted like your big brother but, honestly, you don’t mind. He’s one of the best.

“Left,” you say, pointing at the shirt.

He nods. “I thought so too. Thanks,”

You chuckle as he dashes into his bedroom and you head into your bedroom, looking around for some clothes to wear for tonight. You’ve never been too fussed over how you look but tonight is kinda a big deal and you want to look your best.

When you’re straightening your clothes in the mirror, someone knocks at your door and you turn to see Will in one of Bob’s old button-down shirts.

“Don’t you look handsome?” You say, and he smiles wide.

“You look great,” he says. “I’m really looking forward to tonight.”

“Yeah, me too. He’s a pretty big deal to me.”

“How long have you been seeing him?”

Now, Will is a smart kid. If you tell him the truth, two things are going to happen; first, he’s going to ask you why you’ve been keeping it a secret for so long and second, he’s going to do the math and realize you’ve had a boyfriend around the time you met Eddie.

He’s going to find out soon, anyway, about who you’re dating, but until that actually happens, you’re keeping up with the routine.

“Just a little while,” you shrug. “I really like him, though, so I want you all to meet him.”

“I’m sure he’s great,”

You walk over to him and kiss his forehead. “So are you.”

Will smiles, quickly leaving the room after telling you that you should wear the new perfume you bought recently and you take him up on his offer, spraying yourself a couple times before walking into the kitchen to help your mom by preparing a salad.

Bob has cut up the chicken onto a platter while Jonathan set the table, and Will helps him with the last few items before you hand him the bowl to take with him.

The sound of an engine grows nearer outside, accompanied by blaring music from a stereo, which is quickly shut off as lights begin to pull into the driveway.

Will and Jonathan are leaping over to the couch against the window, nudging open the blinds to get a peek at who’s arrived.

“He’s here!” Will calls out, watching the headlights turn off.

“He drives a van,” Jonathan says, looking at you over his shoulder. “Strike one.”

“Stop,” you say, smacking your hand against his arm.

Both he and Will chuckle—not out of mockery but by your reaction—and then Will’s gasping as he shoves the blinds closed, eyes straight at the front door when there’s a knock against the wood.

“Okay,” your mom says, walking into the living room and waving her hands. “Nobody panic. Just calm down.”

“We’re not the ones panicking, mom,” Jonathan smiles.

Your mom lets out a breathless chuckle as Bob steps beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

“It’s going to be fine,” he looks over at you. “Want me to get the door?”

“No, I’ll get it,”

With a quick prepared breath, you spin on your heel and walk over to the front door, wrapping your fingers around the handle and pulling it open and you see your beautiful boyfriend standing on the doorstep with a black shirt and one of his more stable jackets.

Even without buying any new clothes, he’s put a lot of effort into his appearance. His shoes are sturdier than the white Reeboks he usually wears, so you think he might have gotten them from his uncle. But he still has the chain attached to the loops of his jeans and it makes you smile.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hi,” he grins.

For just a few seconds, that becomes a moment just for the two of you, then you’re stepping to the side so that he can come in, and your family are almost circling him the moment he does.

“Hello,” your mom beams, approaching him with your dad still beside her.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, stretching out a hand to shake your mom’s hand, who does so a little too eagerly. “These are for you.”

He’s bought a bouquet of flowers with him, all pretty colors of pinks and yellows, and you think that’s where his money went into. Your mom takes the flowers happily, smiling up at Bob who looks just as gleeful.

“Thank you, Eddie. They’re lovely,”

“I’m Bob,” your dad says, shaking Eddie’s hand. “And that right over there is the man of the house,”

There’s a chuckle from Jonathan when Bob points a finger at him, but he seems especially stiff when giving Eddie a nod in acknowledgement. Will, on the other hand, is standing there with an agape expression, looking completely shocked.

“Hey, Will the Wise,” Eddie grins, reaching over to mess up your brother’s hair.

He’s quick to fix it and though the room goes silent for a moment, he’s breaking out into a confused but excited grin which eases your worries. For a moment, you thought he went lifeless on you.

“You’re the boyfriend,” Will says.

“Do you know each other?” Your mom inquires, looking between the two of them.

“Yeah, we play Dungeons and Dragons together,”

Your mom beams a hundred voltages brighter at that, though her eyes are about as wide as saucers.

“The Hellfire Club?” She asks.

Eddie smiles, rocking on his heels. “Yeah, every Wednesday night.”

You know your mom is already won over by Eddie the second she realizes that he’s the guy who Will’s been talking about excitedly over breakfast. Since he joined the club with his friends, he’s been wearing the Hellfire shirt around the house like it’s attached to him. You’ve even seen him sleep in it.

“Come, sit down,” your mom waves her hands. “Let’s eat.”

She’s content staring at the flowers when she walks into the kitchen and everyone begins to follow. Eddie sneaks an arm around your waist, smiling at you.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve used the door,” he mutters.

You roll your eyes, shushing him and heading over to the table. Eddie’s on the move before a hand grabs his shoulder and he’s turning around to meet the stern gaze of your brother.

“Hey, man,” he says. “Long time, no see.”

Jonathan smiles only for a moment, something extremely short-lived.

“That was a one-time thing,” he grunts. “You better not have been giving any weed to my sister—”

“No way, she doesn’t touch the stuff. Don’t worry, I’d never pressure her into anything she didn’t want.”

“You better not, and this stays between us.”

“Sure,” Eddie nods. “My lips are sealed between you, me, and purple palm tree delight,”

He lets out a humorous chuckle at Jonathan’s deadpan stare before heading over to the dining room to see all the food laid out on the table. You’re smiling at him happily, patting the chair next to you, and he almost skips over to sit beside you.

Your mom apologizes about the lack of dinner but Eddie’s shaking his head, telling her that it’s more than enough and it’s much better than the canned food he’s so used to having.

Conversation flows very smoothly when plates are filled up, and Eddie answers every question put to him by your parents and your brothers, though Will is mostly just giddily listening because here’s his hero with his big sister.

Eddie opens up about a lot of things, mainly his life with his uncle and how he got into music. It’s clearly a very interesting topic to your dad who leans into the discussion with a curious grin, nodding along to the origin of the name ‘Corroded Coffin.’

In turn, Bob talks about how he founded the Hawkins AV Club, saying that he could be a player in one of Eddie’s D&D sessions since he was nicknamed ‘Bob the Brain,’ but how Will is always telling him how embarrassing that would be.

It’s lovely when everyone at the table laughs, making the atmosphere feel really comfortable. They take a liking to Eddie right away and you feel so warm in the chest at the scene.

“So,” Bob passes the salad onto Joyce who scoops a pile into Eddie’s plate. “What kind of songs do you play?”

“We play a few covers,” Eddie replies. “But we’ve been working on some original music.”

“That’s cool,” Will smiles.

“And you play at the Hideout?” Joyce asks and when Eddie nods, she smiles. “We should come to see you play sometime.”

“Yeah!” Bob lights up. “A big family outing. We’ll be cheering for you in the crowd.”

Eddie chuckles, hiding half of his smile into the palm of his hand when he props his elbow onto the table.

“I didn’t know you listened to that kind of music, dad,” you say after taking a sip of your water.

“Yeah, of course. I was super into Led Zeppelin in my teens,”

He mimics an air guitar, smiling over at your mom who’s shaking her head with that face that both says ‘I love you’ and ‘you amaze me.’

“Nice,” Eddie says. “Do you play?”

“Oh, no. Not anymore.”

“You can jam with me one day. I have a gorgeous Warlock NJ you can use.”

You hum, turning to him. “I think that guitar gets more love than me sometimes.”

He scrunches up his nose, shaking his head as he reaches over to hold your hand, and you’re glad that he kept the rings on, too.

“You know,” Bob says, waving his fork around. “I’m actually a big Dio fan myself.”

Eddie furrows his brows for a moment, leaning in closer to the table. “How did you know I like Dio?”

“Because it’s on your vest—”

The second he says it, the room falls deadly silent. Everyone, including you, is sitting in their chairs confused, but only you, Eddie, and your dad know the reason.

Eddie isn’t wearing his Dio vest.

“Dad...?” You question, watching the way he sits frozen with a slightly open mouth.

“Hmm?” He hums, coming back to life, and shoving the piece of chicken on his fork right into his mouth.

You might have shaken the suspicion away if it weren’t for the guilty face your mom wears, who immediately starts stabbing the salad on her plate when you give her a look.

“Oh my gosh,” you breathe out. “They know.”

Somehow, your parents know that you’ve been sneaking Eddie in through your bedroom window nearly every night. But how could they have found out when you tried so hard to be careful about it?

Both you and Eddie took every precaution with the secrecy of it all. You would keep your door locked, Eddie would only come over on foot, not risking the sound of his van pulling up in the street, and he would leave only after the house was empty or while everyone was too busy at the front, usually resulting in Eddie jumping over the bushes in the backyard.

You are completely confused about where the two of you slipped up in all of this.

“All right,” your mom sighs, nodding at Bob and placing her hand on top of his. “Your father and I know about Eddie,”

“Wait, what?” Jonathan asks. “What’s going on?”

“Bob has the cameras and we—”

You groan. “Oh no,”

“We,” your mom emphasises, “just happened to stumble upon some footage of him climbing through the window and—”

“You did what?” Jonathan snaps, looking at Eddie.

He’s got that big brother look in his eye that warns Eddie to answer him very carefully and you tighten your hold of his hand, hoping that your younger brother doesn’t do anything rash like tackle Eddie over the dinner table.

Think about all the food that will be wasted.

“Okay, okay,” Bob extends his hands, gesturing for everyone to sit back in their chairs. “Clearly, there’s been some secrets in the family, but we want you to know that we aren’t mad at you.”

Joyce shakes her head with a sympathetic look on her face.

“You aren’t?” You ask, slowly relaxing after having tensed up at the bombshell that was dropped over dinner.

“No,” your mom shakes her head, face scrunched up. “I did a lot of sneaking around when I was your age.”

“We thought we’d let you tell us when you were ready,” Bob says.

As much as it is unbelievably understanding of them—though they’ve always been that way—you can’t help but feel embarrassed about it, especially of how it came out. You can’t believe you forgot all about the security cameras your dad installed. Sure, the tech side of it goes over your head but, hell, you thought you’d catch it.

Turns out, you and Eddie aren’t as sneaky as you thought you were.

“Well...” you let out a deep breath, still processing. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for telling us,” Bob says.

It falls a little quiet after that with the exception of Jonathan’s knife scraping against the plate as he stares at Eddie while cutting into his chicken. Instead, you send Will a silly look when he catches your attention and he snickers.

“So,” Eddie pipes up, looking at your dad. “Would now be a bad time for me to ask if I could get some work experience with you?”

Bob perks up, mouth curved cheerfully. “Work with me?”

“Only if that’s okay. I’m just looking for a job right now and your daughter’s told me a lot about you,”

He looks ten times more happy than before, wearing a proud dad look on his face.

“Of course. I can always do with more workers. You know how to work electronics?”

“Just the basics, you know; toaster, VHS, and guitar amps, but I’m willing to learn and I’m great at fixing things.”

Bob chuckles. “You’re a clever guy, that’s good.”

When he’s too distracted by passing the food down to Will at the end of the table, you lean into Eddie’s side and whisper, “Told you.”

There was no doubt in your mind that your dad would take Eddie on to work with him at Radio Shack and now you get to visit him at his job for lunch instead of the other way around, though your dad will most likely join in as well.

Maybe Eddie will have to wear a dress shirt and tie just like your dad does. Hmm, that could be interesting.

It’s Will’s disgusted scoff that draws you out from your thinking, giving him a strange look until you realize that you and Eddie are huddled together at the table, hand in hand, and have been staring at each other for the past twenty seconds.

“Yeah,” Jonathan nods, pointing his pinky at Will. “Ew.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re one to talk,”

There are not enough fingers on your hand to count the times you’ve caught Jonathan sucking face with Nancy and the lipstick stains she leaves on his skin afterwards. If anything is disgusting, it’s that.

“Hey, Eds,” Bob speaks, and you get all giddy at the nickname. “Can you start Monday?”

“Yeah,” he nods excitedly. “Absolutely.”

“Great, this will be great,”

Not just that, you think, but this whole thing has been great. Your parents have welcomed Eddie with open arms, Jonathan seems to be on the fence but either way, you know he can tell you’re smitten, and Will is over the moon that the head of the Hellfire Club is eating dinner at his house.

Tonight could not have gone any smoother, in fact, you’re sure you’re going to hear only good things once Eddie leaves for the night—since there’s absolutely no way that he’s staying and if he tries, you’ll kick him in the shins.

Those flowers he bought for your mom are going to be displayed in a vase for weeks, or for as long as she can keep them alive, and you’re going to smile every time you see them.

Thank goodness you’re a Byers, Bob included.

“And hey,” your dad suddenly says, “maybe I can teach you a few things about security cameras.”

Well, choking on your chicken is the only bad thing to happen tonight. Otherwise, it’s the best night you’ve had in a long time.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taglist: @dameronology @overly-obsessed-with-you @doublesunsets @shadowhuntyi @munsonology @compassgenius @thefaeriemagic3

[ohsocyanide]

unrequited // buddy daddies

There’s nothing for it.

Rei sucks on his sixth cigarette of the hour and stares at his own reflection in the mirror: the ghost-white canvas of purple-green bruising dappling his forearms and biceps from grappling practice, the spare lines of his waist, the concave flatness of his chest.

He looks at himself and he thinks of Kazuki, and he knows he is everything the other man doesn’t want.

There’s nothing for it, he thinks again.

He is not soft. He is not kind. He cannot soothe with a touch, calm with his words, and he thinks that Kazuki looks for that sort of airheaded tranquility in a partner. Deserves it too, someone better at comforting than he could ever be. He wonders if the woman Kazuki is bedding tonight is anything like that, if she’ll last longer than it takes for him to bury his cock inside her body.

Somehow, he doubts it.

A knock at the bathroom door has him cursing beneath his breath, Miri’s little voice muffled against the crack of the jamb as she says, “Uncle Rei?”

He tamps out the cigarette in the sink and leaves it there. Shoves his head through a nightshirt, shuffles his way into a pair of baggy sweats as he calls, “Just a minute, Miri.”

One day, maybe, he’ll quit enabling Kazuki’s lifestyle long enough to force him to find someone he can take the kid around. Someone good, someone patient, someone with better instincts than his. He is designed to kill, to take down — never to build up or boost.

That’s what the child needs.

He flicks on the vent and opens the bathroom door a crack to slip out so the smell of smoke doesn’t cling to her clothes.

Big eyes peer up at him balefully, waterline wet with tears and her nose dripping snot. He sighs and doubles back for the bathroom, tears off a strip of toilet paper and scrubs at her face with it.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Papa,” she says. Her gaze skitters away from his face and back; she shuffles closer, small hands gripping at the leg of his sweats. She wants up, wants to be held, and he doesn’t want to do it.

He picks her up anyways.

He’d love to track Kazuki down — easy enough to do by scent alone; he’d poured on more cologne than was necessary before finger-gunning his way out the front door. He won’t, though.

Rei will stay here, because regardless of how irresponsible Kazuki may think he is, he’s moreso than he receives credit for.

“Obviously,” he sighs. “What do you need him for? You’re supposed to be in bed.”

She rests her cheek against his shoulder, and his heart does not grow three sizes at how sweet the motion is. She tugs at a piece of his hair and sniffles. “Papa didn’t tell me a bedtime story tonight.”

Another flash of irritation, and Rei grinds his teeth hard enough his molars ache. This is Kazuki’s mess, Kazuki’s kid. Not even Kazuki’s house; the fucking freeloader’s been crashing for near six months and hasn’t so much as offered a dime towards rent.

No, he’s just… cooked and cleaned and jokingly told Rei have a good day, honey, stupid little apron cinched around a sinful waist like some sort of stacked housewife.

“Right,” he says instead of the myriad of curses he’d like to say. “Well. You’re not getting a bedtime story from me.”

Her head pops up from his shoulder. “You have to.”

“Says who?”

“Says me,” she responds. “Says—says Papa.”

“Your papa isn’t my boss, kid,” he tells her. He swipes at her nose again and stuffs the used tissue into his pocket.

“Since when? You do everything Papa wants.”

Rei is thankful for the relative darkness of the hallway. It masks the burning of his ears, the rush of blood to his cheeks. Does he? Is he that obvious in his desire to please Kazuki, unrequited as it is?

“Not true,” he argues, and then quickly realizes that arguing with a four year old is stupid. He’s an adult.

“Uh-huh,” she says, nodding. “Papa told his friend you were spanked, ‘cause you do what he wants.”

“Spanked,” Rei repeats, nonplussed. “You—you mean whipped?”

“Yeah!” she kicks her legs happily, and he muffles a grunt when her foot slams directly into his liver. “That thing that happens to kids who are bad.”

“I’m not whipped,” he says, and he carts her down the hall to the living room. He’s annoyed now, whatever wash of sadness he’d felt in the bathroom replaced by the knowledge that Kazuki has some grasp of how down bad Rei is for him. He knows and he uses it, manipulates it, and Rei lets him.

It takes one of those sweet, goofy smiles, a wink, and he’ll do whatever Kazuki wants.

Well, fuck.

He turns on the television and drops onto the couch, Miri still in his lap.

She twists to watch as he opens a streaming app and flicks through the options under the anime category.

“I’m not allowed to watch tv this late,” she says slowly. She turns back to face him, chin tipped up so she’s peering into his face. “I’ll get in trouble.”

“It’s not tv, it’s a bedtime story,” Rei tells her. “About a girl who finds a magical cat who tasks her with saving the world from evil.”

She considers that, blinks her big eyes up at him as she takes in the information and likely memorizes it for later use against Kazuki. Finally she relaxes, gives a nod and allows him to reposition her so they’re stretched horizontally across the couch.

Rei clicks the first suitable option he finds and proprs a pillow beneath his head. Despite her initial reluctance, Miri snuggles against him, head tucked securely beneath his chin as lights flash across the screen.

There’s nothing for it, he reminds himself as the intro for Sailor Moon starts up.

He’s here. And he’ll be here, until Kazuki finds someone new or gets sick of Rei hanging around like some lovesick little schoolgirl.

He doesn’t want to think about which of those will happen first.

[rvby]

at least try to go to sleep

cw: alcohol, drugs, vomit, blood, self-harm, thoughts of suicide, accidental suicide, gray fox typical masochism.

he’s always dreamt of the same thing, night after night after night. bodies lying in a pool of blood around him. when did it start.

he dreamt of the opposite, long ago. of allies smiling around him. when did that disappear from view. when did he lose all of that.

not that it matters. he’ll forget about it in (we’d give a time if he could keep track of it).

bile swells in his stomach. up his chest. up his throat. it hits his teeth on the way out. he hates the feeling. when was the last time this even happened to them. (recently, he doesn’t even remember. a little too much a little too late and fuck, why’d they have to stick to alcohol? coke and a bitch with a knife used to do the trick. splatter blood all over them ‘til they’re left screaming. how many times did he have to practice that one until it settled raw and true into his skin, into his muscles, into his bones.)

sick. you’re sick. he just wants to grin up at the sky at whatever joke of a god there is and flip them off into high heaven. *heaven*. what a load of bullshit.

he heaves again. when was the last time he ate. last time he drank. nothing but acid burning his tongue. fuck, he’d kill to take a knife to the back of his neck over this. feels like sick and dizziness and blood on the bathroom floor.

shit, blood? from inside or- (dumbass, all blood comes from inside. not exactly helpful) you know what i mean. he smashes the back of his head against the wall. shut up. shut up. it sends a shock through his system. great. because sitting in vomit and spit and blood on the *god-damned* bathroom floor without a limb to stand on is just where you want to be. how the hell are you going to get this cleaned up-- how the hell did you even *get* here anyway?

he knocks the side of his head on the wall now. looking for a lower buzz from that shock up his body. something he can use. something to make this worth it. it’s just getting worse. it’s just getting worse.

when was the last time you

when was the last time he

disappointed chiding. he can almost hear it. disappointed. worried. a memory slurred out in blurry images. let’s play guess who! don’t. x x x yeah we know. cause he saves us. he always does. keeps us from od-ing in the middle of fuck-knows-where doing god-know-what while you’re sweating like you’re dying of heatstroke. better than the cold. better than alaska.

i don’t know why you hate the hot and humid so much, snake. it’s not that bad--if you’re used to it. so thick you can drink the water off the leaves. you should come visit sometime, when we’re both retired. (like hell you’re retiring, fox. you’ll be dead before you get there. ha! maybe. bet i’ll last longer than you.)

god, get your head off the floor, you’re making a mess. come on, stay awake at least. hold it down or double it. (did we ever find out where the blood came from?) inside to out.

what was this what was this

dreams? we were dreaming? do you even remember what it was about?

come on, stay awake. stay with us. stay with us. miller’s gonna bust your ass in the morning when he finds out you missed drills. (like that old f##### could catch me. hey, you wanna bet i can steal his leg and run with it? come on fox, that’s just mean.)

eyes open eyes closed eyes open eyes closed eyes open i’d turn on a light but it’d kill you at this rate. where’s a lighter when you- he grabs at the floor, searching for something he’s sure should be there. pants and pockets and *there it is*. his lone arm left to fish out a cig and set it between his teeth and light it. the smoke tastes better than the bile at least.

he’ll have to drag himself to the tub eventually. why’d he have to go and slice himself up around the metal end of his right leg. clawing at the junction between metal and flesh as if to rip the nerve caps off and toss it. (he had enough of his mind not to, just barely. he’d have been better off dying if he did.) bandages soaked in filth--if you get an infection that’s your own fault. (you know, back in the day, the hellmaster was one hell of a- don’t bullshit me fox. oh come on, i swear this one is true!)

maybe it’d be better if it did. if he- (not like it matters, the train of thought. he’s already unwrapped it. left on the floor with the other scraps of his misery. the sound of the water is making him sick again. *unnatural*. you were better off drowning in the river, under the trees. food for the animals. returning the favor for all the disgusting meals he’s made of hunts lost in the wild. (good practice my fucking ass. you’ll eat anything, alive or dead.)

hitting his head on the side of the tub. it’s a miracle he doesn’t have a brain hemorrhage. don’t drop your toaster into the water. or was it a hairdryer. fork in the toaster? not the first time you’ve sat in the tub thinking about it. but slitting your wrists just feels too good. the water seeps into it just the way you like and you’re too alive to die today. you like the feeling of cold wet hair sticking to your sweating neck. makes up for the heat. you’re wet from the humidity anyway, just jump in. just jump in. just jump in.

one. two. three. four. he doesn’t realize he’s even banging his head on the wall. mesmerized by the pain and the feeling and the emptiness. five. six. seven. eight. (all you need is a cheerleader and a knife and some coke to keep you going don’t you. are you even american? or are we whoring ourselves out for plain cash? where the hell are you even getting a cheerleader out here. no a chick in a miniskirt doesn't count, shut up.) just don’t drop your fork in the toaster in the water unless you want to

well, at least he won’t be feeling it in the morning.

[chickenparm]

Switch

It’s entirely his fault, even if it was unknowing. The crack of his voice in his passion, the animation of his body as he described the ways he wanted to unmake you and piece you together into something entirely different.

John Seed/f!Reader(Deputy) 3,582 Words - NSFW Dubious Consent, Slightly Rough Sex, P in V, Orgasm Denial

---

Escape should’ve been your first priority. The first and only thought in your mind as the echo of the door slamming shut rings in your head like a morbid metronome, so akin to the snap of a bear trap. Yet as you rock forward, nails digging into the arms of the chair with the effort of balancing yourself on your way across the room, the purpose you hold tightly to your chest is one less virtuous, more of that sin John is so obsessed with. 

The tumble down the stairs is nothing compared to your single-mindedness, the pain of what likely equates to a cracked rib barely registers in your mind as you climb the stairs and drag the chair back up with you. 

At the very least, this will be one sin you won’t need to confess. He’ll have witnessed it firsthand. 

It’s entirely his fault, even if it was unknowing. The crack of his voice in his passion, the animation of his body as he described the ways he wanted to unmake you and piece you together into something entirely different. Blue eyes with blown out pupils had looked down at your too-exposed chest, a flash of something there that burned in your own veins. 

A sinner you may be, but John isn’t without his own temptation. That alone is what moves you to crouch next to the door, fists at the ready as his footsteps come back down the hallway. It should bother you more that you’re already familiar with his gait, the timing of each step and the distance between each one. They’re light, almost carefree as you catch the sound of his whistling. 

It cuts off sharply when the door opens and your empty chair is revealed. Relishing in the hard line of his shoulders as realization washes over him, you almost hesitate to swing your fist at the back of his head and knock him out. 

Almost.

John landing face first on the bloodied floor is the right amount of disrespect he deserves, but it’s not where he belongs. It takes an embarrassing amount of time to get him propped up in the chair and secured with the ropes he’d been so eager to put you in. Wryly, you wonder how upset he’ll be when he awakes and finds the tables turned. 

With a pleasant twisting in your gut as you lean on his workbench to wait, you selfishly hope that rage and passion will make itself known again. The very same that caused this mess, the fire in your blood and the saliva on your tongue that’s a direct result of your need for him. 

It doesn’t take much longer for him to rouse with a groan and his head rolling forward. Patience isn’t one of your oft-used virtues, but the satisfaction of his discomfort gives you all the willpower you need to wait. Inked fingers flex against the arms of the chair, corded forearms tense as he pulls against the rope, shoulders jerk away from the back of the chair as his obvious panic begins to set in. 

That won’t do. In a mimicry of his own placating ways, you shush him as you approach. All at once, the panic is gone, and in its place is unadulterated rage.

“You dare-”

“Yeah, I do,” nonchalance chafes at him, you know it does and you use it to your advantage to stoke the fires for your own greed, “What’ll you do? Carve up my skin, preach about my sins, keep looking at my tits?”

John’s eyes shoot to the floor so fast that you’re surprised they don’t fall out of his damn head. If you look hard enough beyond the crimson lights that shine overhead, you can almost make out a burning redness at his ears. Satisfaction surges through you at the confirmation - you were right. 

Sucking a breath through his teeth, John bites back after chewing on his words, “That, and more.”

“More than looking at my tits?” You stop just within arm’s reach, watching his neck tense under the effort of retorting back something even more damning. John’s hands flex under your own as you brace yourself on them and lean in, your chest falling in his line of sight and nearly spilling from your ruined shirt. 

John’s lips thin as he bites them together, eyes roaming the view you’ve given him with no small amount of shame coloring his features. Just by the pitch of his brow, you can almost taste his guilt as his chest rises with a shaking breath. 

“Is this what your tactics are now? Seducing the faithful in a bid to sway them?”

It would be more intimidating if his voice was more than a whisper. It’s not entirely clear whether it’s from nervousness or anticipation, but you’re just fine with both. Either one means you’re getting to him, and crawling beneath his skin is your goal here, among other things. A flash of pink at your lips is what draws his eyes away, “It depends if it’s working, John.”

John’s entire body goes deadly still, a direct reaction to your knee raising and slotting between his legs. Without even looking to confirm it, you can feel the beginnings of him hardening against you. After so many taunts over the radio, a plethora of backhanded comments and thinly veiled threats, it comes so easy to return the favor. 

“Looks like it is. I’m curious; is there a scar for lust on your body?”

The pads of your fingers drag along the raised scars on his chest, first the letters, then the horizontal line through them. John shivers visibly, his eyelashes kissing his cheekbones as they flutter shut. It appeals to the nebulous, fucked-up feelings that are overshadowed by your lust, and for a moment you simply observe him. 

In another life, maybe the antagonism between the two of you could’ve been more than this. But such as it is, all you can do is press your knee closer and watch his brows twitch together at the friction. Swallowing thickly, keeping his eyes closed to avoid what you’re doing to him, John’s voice comes stronger than you expected it to.

“Look for it, if you want to know so badly.”

The open invitation is too much to resist, and the fingers on his chest wander lower to the buttons of his vest, popping each one by one. John’s knuckles are white as he grips the chair, tendons set in stark relief against his skin with the effort. You hope this haunts him, you hope this does exactly what he implied it would do. 

As his shirt falls open and you’re free to take in the expanse of scarred skin across his torso, you hope this ruins him. 

Greed along his ribs, wrath curls around his hip. Just over his belt are the tops of four distinct letters - LUST, carved deeply yet long-since healed into silvery scars. At the brush of your fingertips against them, featherlight and almost reverent, John’s hips jerk toward your hand, into your knee where he grinds against you through the fabric of his jeans. 

John’s head rolls back as his eyes snap open, staring sightlessly up at the lofty ceiling for a long, lingering moment. Taking in the disproportionate reaction to something so small, you ask, “How long’s it been?”

No answer. Perhaps he can’t, or won’t, and you call his bluff by drawing your knee back, taking away the pressure he’d been savoring. A sound dies in his throat, perhaps the answer you want that he fights the urge to set free. The thoughtless gaze to the heavens is turned on you, suddenly full of the very fire that got you into this mess to begin with. 

John wants to say something, maybe urge you to press against him once more to ease the ache, but any way of spinning it would sound like begging. He’s not ready for that, yet. Instead, you repeat the question, a little less teasing in an attempt to coax him to be forthcoming. As much as you want to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze, you’re not entirely hardened like he is - there’s a shred of empathy for him, even now. 

“John, how long has it been?”

“Seven years,” he grits between his teeth, the effort of forcing those two words out is monumental for this man. His reward is the return of your leg, pushed up against his cock. The fingers on his scar of lust wrap around his belt buckle and tug, lifting his hips and creating friction that finally, finally brings what equates to a whine from his throat. 

Even as he chokes it off, the damage has been done and you repeat the process, over and over until his hips are moving on their own accord and you can use your now free hand to rake the hair back from his face where it’d fallen, “I’m gonna be the first in seven whole years? What a blessing.”

The snark isn’t necessary, but damn does it feel good to have his vicious glare burning into you, all its fire losing heat with every needy rock of his dick against your leg. It’s impossible for John to be intimidating when he’s grinding on you like a whore.

“Untie me and-... and I’ll show you a blessing, Deputy-”

“Nah,” your answer comes after a quick purse of your lips, “but if you’re good I’ll let you tell me where you wanna finish.”

John’s mouth clamps shut so tightly that the tendons in his neck grow taut against his skin. With that eagerness in mind, you withdraw to undo his belt and jeans. They slide off easily enough, down to his knees and leaving him hard and leaking against his own thigh. Suddenly, you note the harsh rise and fall of his chest, his fingernails digging into the plastic of the chair, his head lolled back and watching you through hooded eyes. 

Absently, as you watch his cock twitch in anticipation, you almost think John Seed has a capacity to be beautiful. Or maybe he is beautiful, and you’ve never noticed it until he’s already threatening to fall to pieces at a single touch. 

That’s what you give him; Your fingertips drag against the length of him, and he breathes something that seems like relief. It tastes bitter on your tongue - you want him to suffer.

The immediate grip you take on him is harsh, squeezing just over the line of too tight as you drag your hand and collect the wetness that rolls from his tip. John grunts, but still bucks into your hand and it sends a zapping feeling of excitement. Again you squeeze, watching his head fall back with another tortured sound. 

He likes it. 

John likes it to hurt. 

You let him go and grab his jaw, smearing his own arousal against his cheeks and beard. Something in his eyes looks devastated as you let him go, a tinge of desperation coloring his entire being. The begging is so close you can taste it. 

“Do you want me to hurt you, John?” 

Nothing, not even a twitch of his muscles. You ask again, squeezing hard enough that you know the insides of his cheeks dig into his teeth, “Do you want it to hurt?”

Every word is slow and deliberate, as if you’re speaking to a child. Perhaps you are, at least with the wide-eyed and imploring way he’s looking at you, almost as if he doesn’t understand what you’re asking at first. Then it clicks, his mouth working to swallow before he nods in your grip. 

The irony isn’t lost on you, and you can’t help the sick little smile that spreads on your lips. It almost strikes you to turn the tables and make him say it, just as you’d been forced to do in an effort to save Hudson. Instead you accept his gesture as the small victory that it is and back away. 

It’s almost clinical how you kick your boots off and remove your pants, leaving you bare as you swing a leg over him and settle across his spread thighs. John’s skin is searing hot beneath your palms as you press them into his chest, feeling his racing heartbeat and relishing in his anticipation. 

It’s too soft, remedied easily by your thumb sweeping across his nipple before pinching it viciously. Instead of flinching back, John arches into it, whining at the sharpness that doesn’t relent until his voice turns ragged. No doubt he wouldn’t have given you an inch of mercy, even if you pleaded for it, but you’re not John. 

It’s why you lean in and drag your tongue across it, soothing the ache until he’s shuddering beneath you. His shoulders tense as he jerks against the ropes holding him captive, preceding the first demand, “Let me touch you.”

“Absolutely not,” you draw back, looking for all the world as if you’re unimpressed with something so ridiculous, “I can’t trust you not to pull some stupid shit and get me back in this chair.”

“I won’t. I promise, I swear it, I-”

“-am a liar?” 

John’s mouth snaps shut again, suddenly unable to refute your absolutely-true claim of his trustworthiness. All you get is a breathy little sound as you reach down and take him in hand once more, holding him by the base to line yourself up, not quite sinking down just yet. 

You find yourself distracted - hazy eyed, trembling, panting heavily beneath you, John strikes you as a vision once more. Not for the first time, you wished things had turned out differently; That you could fuck John Seed without worrying about the madness that lingers behind his eyes even now as you tease the head of his cock against your entrance.

“Do it,” John urges, voice ruined and frayed, “Every second you waste is going to make it worse for you when I catch you again.”

Gently, you rock against him, not nearly enough to let him breach you, “You’ll carve my sins a little deeper? Make it worse?”

“Oh no,” and the bastard has the audacity to laugh, breathless but no less ominous, “nothing of the sort. I’ll find you, and when I do you’re going to wish you hadn’t played with me, Deputy. I intend to lock you down and fuck you with whatever object I have within reach.”

“This is always within your reach,” you push down on his cock, letting the head pop inside and watching the way his fury falters in the face of stimulation. For all the world, John looks as if he’s having a religious experience, the chair groaning under the stress of him straining against the bindings. They’ll hold fast, and in the meantime you rock more of him inside you and relish the stretch. 

Seven years is a long time, but you’re not too far off that mark, either. Maybe that’s the madness that stirred you to lust over a man like John Seed. That madness and his hysteria, his passion despite his absolute insanity. It’s present still, lurking beneath his skin and begging you to untie him and let it be free. You’ll do no such thing, but as he seats fully inside you, you clench at the thought of what he’d do if you cut those ropes. 

Hurt you, without a doubt. Ruin you to the edges of your being, then leave you to pick up the pieces and put them into something recognizable. It’s almost tempting, if you weren’t entirely sure that John wouldn’t have the self control to hold back. 

You’re leaving this bunker today, whether he likes it or not. 

Beneath you, John’s hips jerk, bucking up into you while punctuated with a moan that echoes sharply off the walls. If you weren’t certain the room was soundproof, you’d be concerned. Yet you knew it must be to hide the sounds of his torture, and that spurs you into rocking against him, leaning back just enough that his cock drags against you at the perfect angle. 

“Please let me touch you, Deputy.”

“Fuck you,” it’s said with such conviction that John lets out a huff of what could only be amusement. In retaliation, your hands find his shoulders and your fingernails dig into his skin, grounding yourself against the motion of his hips that meet your own. John tries to lean forward, to get his mouth on you somewhere and let out his frustration, yet you’re just out of his reach.

“You think I’m just gonna let someone like you touch me?” 

John’s anger is absolutely betrayed by his pleasure, the glare melting within seconds as you purposely tighten around him, “Your hands can only cause pain. You might get off on hurting,” and you rake the nails of one hand down his chest, catching on the same nipple you’d abused prior, “but I don’t. And I just can’t trust you not to be an asshole.”

“Oh, but being an asshole is what turned you on, wasn’t it?” 

Even tied up, John still has thorns, and he’s thrashing against the ropes to sink those barbs into you, “Don’t-... Don’t assume I’m anywhere close to a fool, Deputy. You would’ve escaped immediately, except s-something held you back, didn’t it?”

“How’d you know?” You try to deadpan, but it loses its effect as your breath comes short and your thighs tense with the effort of controlling the pace you need to finish. John holds eye contact, even as they threaten to roll back in his head when your hand leaves his chest to dig into his hair. Harshly, you tug at the roots until his neck is wide open for the taking.

John’s voice rattles your teeth as you suck a harsh mark on his Adam’s apple, perfectly placed where he could hide it if he so chose but with no real care for his comfort, “Did you think I didn’t notice? Th-The squeeze of your thighs together when I described the ways I’d drag your… sin from you?”

With stilted and halting speech, John taunts you even as he can do nothing but lift his hips to chase after you as you take your pleasure from him. The mark on his neck is stark against his skin, framed by a smattering of freckles that you kiss, one by one. It brings his scathing words to an abrupt end, choked off with a whimper that speaks leagues about his reaction to any sort of tenderness.

Startlingly, there’s no nausea when you imagine running your fingers through his hair instead of nearly ripping it out with the force of your grip. You’re not entirely disgusted at the thought of kissing along his scars instead of raking your nails across the ones slashed across his ribs. 

Your heart skips as you lift his head and kiss him fully to muffle the moan of your orgasm, bearing down on his cock. John mirrors the sound, forcing his tongue into your mouth as if he could taste your pleasured sounds. Are they as satisfying as his own have been? You can’t help but wonder before your mind loses itself completely.

On reflex you curl into him, and John uses your lapse in control to thrust up into you and prolong your release until you force yourself to clamber from his lap. Knees wobbling, you back away and lean on his workbench, watching from a safe distance as he stares at you in disbelief. John’s lips are swollen, his skin red and welts from your fingernails, his dick glistening and painfully hard. And above all that, he looks crushed as you hurriedly redress with trembling limbs.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Getting out of here,” your answer is plain and simple as you lace your boots up and tuck the ends of your pants into them. John sputters for a moment, jerking against his bonds only until you get close enough to touch him again. First a moan comes when you grasp him, and then a sound of absolute outrage as you proceed to tuck him back into his pants and rebutton his shirt and vest. 

“Y-You can’t just leave me like this!” John looks mad enough to spit venom, head surging forward as if to chase you as you back off from his reach, “I swear it, you’ll regret this-”

“Who says I already don’t?” You shoot back, and John’s tirade ends in sudden silence and an air of unbridled hurt. Suddenly, and secretly, you feel terrible about it - but it needs to happen, for John’s sake, as well as your own. Things had gotten too deep at the end, a sick sort of affection blooming when it was only supposed to be physical relief.

You don’t want it. You don’t want John. 

As you descend the stairs and duck through the pipes, John’s furious voice doesn’t follow you like you expect it to. It would have been preferable to the deafening silence of a shifted paradigm and your own frustration rolling off you in waves strong enough to nearly make you slip up in your escape. 

John doesn’t radio you as you leave. You hadn’t realized how fond you’ve grown of his taunting until your handheld lay dormant on your hip. 

Perhaps there was some truth to you calling this feeling regret, but it sure as hell isn’t for the right reasons.

[lostaurorax]

from three to five?

pairing | stucky x pregnant!reader

summary | reader finds out she’s pregnant and tells the boys but they all get suprised in the end

warnings | pregnancy and indication of smut

a/n | hi my darlings!!!!! i love stucky with all my heart and wrote this bc i thought it would be super cute! i apologize if their are any mistakes about the pregnancy thing and the ultrasound stuff because quite frankly i know absolutely NOTHING about pregnancy except the basic stuff that everyone knows. anyway i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did writing it!! reblogs and feedback is greatly appreciated <3 feel free to send in requests!!

the minute you found out you were pregnant you couldn’t wait to tell your husbands knowing how happy they would be from countless amounts of times they told you they had wanted to have kids especially with you.

after a romantic dinner that wanda and nat had  thoroughly helped you plan you had come back home to the compound eager for your boys to find out the surprise.

as you walked into the living room wanda and nat were sitting their talking

“ah your back! so how was the date!” wanda said when she noticed your presence

“it was great! we’re gonna call it a night. we’ll see you ladies in the morning.” steve said as he grabbed three water bottles from the fridge and waved to the girls

“good to hear! good night..” nat said winking at you when the boys had turned their backs to them confirming it was all set

“god my feet are killing me!” you said as you took your shoes off and continued walking down the hall to your bedroom

“yeah? change out of that dress and me and stevie will run you a bath alright doll?” bucky said placing his hand on your back as steve was twisting the handle on the door

“okay buck” you said smiling knowing that probably wasn’t going to happen

as steve flicked the light switch on his foot steps came to a halt causing bucky to bump into him

“hey wh-” bucky said before realizing why steve had stopped

their was a bunch of blue and pink balloons scattered around the room, two pregnancies tests lying on the bed with a poster board that said ‘barnes-rogers baby coming soon…’ on it

as the boys turned back to look at you to confirm if what they were seeing was a dream or not it was immediately confirmed when they saw the wide smile on your face

“suprise!!”

after neither of them said anything for a minute or two you turned to walk in front of them

“hey is something wrong?” you said as your mind was racing with scenarios in which they weren’t happy that you were pregnant

as you were about to say something else both boys wrapped their arms around you and you swore you’d never felt more safe

“nothings wrong sweetheart nothing at all. it’s just we’ve dreamed of this day for so long and we can’t believe it’s actually happening.” bucky said as you felt a warm tear hit your face from his

“we love you doll so so much, and we can’t wait to raise a baby with you.”

“yeah?” you said pulling away from the hug to look at them with red noses and tear stained eyes

“yeah” they said in sync just admiring you

it didn’t last long until you were all attacking eachother like hungry animals

the next morning you woke up with two super soldiers on top of you one with his hand on your stomach and one with his hand on your boob

you couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight

as you tried slipping from beneath them to start to get ready you were stopped when weight was pressed on too you and multiple pleas were heard

“doll where are you going? it’s too early stay in bed” steve said as he nuzzled his head into your neck

“stevie we have to get ready.” you said stroking his hair through your fingers still a knotted mess from last night

“ready for what?”he said as you felt his eyebrows knit against your neck

“i have a ultrasound appointment scheduled for today.” you said knowing that would wake the both of them up

and it did like two children on christmas morning

“i’ve got breakfast!” bucky said as he kissed you on the cheek and slipped on some joggers to exit the room

“i’ll start getting ready.” steve said as he ran to the bathroom leaving you their giddy at the idea of your boys being this excited for your tiny human that wasn’t even born yet. imagining what they’d be like when it was born.

it took about two hours for you all to be ready and out of the house with a few arguments on why you shouldn’t drive and they should you ended up winning because they had no idea where the doctors office you went to was.

after about a 20 minute drive you had arrived at the doctors office checking in you all sat in the waiting room until your name was called. as you watched bucky and steve’s face all you could see was nervousness in their eyes as they looked around at all the pregnant moms and how different they all looked. some were earlier on in their trimester some were at the very end.

“you okay?” you asked them placing a hand on each of their knees

“hm yeah yeah we’re good! doing fine doll.” bucky said steve nodding in agreement

“alright we’ll their about to call my name so i wanna make sure your alright to head in their…” you said with a grin on your face

“we’re fine just a little nervous!”steve said kissing your cheek

after 5 minutes had past of you and the boys talking about baby names and you repeatedly telling them the baby would not be named ‘buckeve’ which was a name they had made up between a combination of their names your name had finally been called

“y/n?”

in usion your heads all turned to the voice and stood up

“it’s nice to see you all! please follow me!” the nurse said

you followed her to the room and listens to the instructions she gave you

“okay so your doctor is with any other patient right now but he should be too much longer so what i’m gonna have you do is sit tight for a few minutes and he’ll come in and set you up okay?”

with a nod of your head and a smile the nurse left telling all you have to enjoy the rest of your day and that she hopes everything goes well.

a knock on the door had halted your conversation with the boys

“come in!” you said

“we’ll hello y/n! how are you doing?” the doctor with the gray hair and winkled face said as he smiled at you

“hi! i’m doing well thank you! these are my husbands james and steve!” you said motioning to the men on the right of you as they waved

“ah well it’s nice to meet you! are you excited to see your baby for the first time?” he said as he started setting up his equipment

“yes very excited! a little nervous though.” steve said placing his hand on the back of your beck a gesture he would do that made you feel protected

“oh well i promise there’s nothing to be nervous about! everything will be just fine. now y/n can you pull your shirt up so i can place this cream on your stomach?” he said

“yeah of course!” you said lifting your shirt

“alright this is gonna be a litte cold just wanna warn you!” he said as he went to place the cream on your stomach

“oh yeah that’s cold!” you said as he placed the cream all over your stomach

“sorry about that! alright let me get this all set up so we can see your baby!” he said grabbing the wand part of the ultrasound machine

as the doctor got the machine working he explained to you what he was gonna be doing so you could somewhat understand what was going on.

“alright let’s see here! welp that’s your baby their on the screen! your very early on so it’s only the size of maybe a pea now but it’ll definitely grow quickly!” he said as tears filled your eyes and the boys both stared at the screen in awe

“hang on a minute..” the doctor said immediately wiping the look of joy on your face and replacing it with worry

“is something wrong sir?” bucky asked concerned

“no no nothings wrong! i just think i might’ve made a miscalculation that’s all.” he said giving any context

“and that miscalculation would be….” you said impatient

“looks like your having twins! congrats!!” he said with a massive smile on his face showing off his perfectly straight and white teeth

“twins??” bucky said in disbelief while you still couldn’t speak in utter shock and feeling like the happiest woman in the world

“oh my god…we’re gonna have twins!!” you said looking back at bucky and steve as the realization hit you.

“i’ll get these printed out and give you guys a bit of privacy. congratulations you three! these kids are so lucky to have you all.” he said as he walked out

you all sat their in shock and pure joy for what seemed to be forever before a noise was finally heard

you turned back to see bucky trying to wipe the tears falling from his eyes

“oh buck c’mere!” you said with open arms

“i’m sorry doll i’m just so happy. i never in my life would’ve thought anything like this would happen to me. this is the happiest day of my life! you both make me so happy! i just love you so much doll so so much.” he said sobbing into your neck

“i love you more bucky. i’m so proud of you.” you said rubbing his back as you mouthed ‘i’m proud of you too stevie’ to steve and he smiled knowing without you even having to tell him

as the day went on all the boys could talk about was your babies. what their names would be,their genders,how you would dress them,what their nursery would look like, just basically anything and everything.

you just admired the pure admiration on the boys faces as they talked about your children and you couldn’t believe how lucky you were.

[mellowswriting]

poe w a breeding kink 👀

also i see u and I love u for it

man on a mission

pairing || Poe Dameron x fem!Reader

word count || 2,490

summary || With the galaxy settled into much needed peace, Poe finds himself facing a new mission: starting a family.

content || breeding kink, oral sex, soft dom!Poe vibes, Poe is packin' and he knows it too smh

a/n || here again to be a complete whore and then disappear lmao

Main Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3

An hour late. Your husband is an hour late getting home to you. It isn’t all that unusual. Poe Dameron isn’t exactly the most punctual of people, even on his best days, but today is different. Today is important.

It marks the beginning of nearly a week straight dedicated to one thing, and one thing only - knocking you up. The moment the two of you decided it was time to start trying, Poe became a man on a mission. Every project he and Finn were working on was flourishing, leaving him with even more time to consult with a doctor and set out a literal plan of action as if he were marching into battle. It was endearing to listen to him excitedly explain to you everything the doctor told him; when the best time to have sex was, how to track your cycle as accurately as possible, even how to keep you both perfectly healthy to make it easier.

But now he was late. You aren’t mad, per se, just vibrating with the anticipation of what awaits you when he gets home. It’s almost too much to ignore. The natural rise in your libido that always comes this time of the month skyrockets even higher from the mere thought of what your husband has planned for you. You can’t even focus on the work that glares at you from your holopad. The anticipation that sears through your belly has you absentminded and distracted, your leg bouncing as you stare at the screen without really seeing it.

All you can think of is the promises Poe made to you that morning, the heated words whispered right into your ear before he left. He told you he wanted you thinking about him all day and Maker knows he got his damn wish. You’ve been aching for him ever since, annoyed and horny and ready to jump him the second he walks through the door. The temptation to take care of yourself is almost too good to resist. The vibrator you have stowed away in your nightstand calls your name like a siren’s song, promising you the relief you’re so desperate for, but you’ve managed to resist it. There’s no telling how much longer you’ll be able to hold back, though.

The door opens right when you start genuinely considering giving in. Poe looks frazzled. His usually perfectly tousled hair is a mess, his chest is heaving from his panted breaths, and the moment he sees you, his hands go up in a gesture of apology.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. Finn held me back to talk after the meeting and - oh!” Poe grunts in surprise when you practically fling yourself at him, his hands automatically falling to your hips to steady you. The kiss you drag him into is heated and messy. Your fingers tangle with his hair tightly and angle him down for more, deepening the kiss until he’s panting from you, not from his rushed pace to get back to you.

“You left me waiting, Dameron.” You say accusingly, already unbuttoning his shirt despite your annoyed tone. Poe hums an apologetic sound as he shifts his attention to your neck. It isn’t fair. He knows all your every weakness, every place to kiss and lick and bite until you’re putty in his capable hands. The gentle nip of his teeth against your earlobe has your eyes fluttering shut, a whispered curse leaving your lips.

“I know, baby. Let me make it up to you, yeah?” His voice is soft, full of promises you know he’ll keep.

“Fuck, please,” You don’t even get to finish begging. Poe captures your lips in another desperate kiss, this one deeper and messier and everything you’ve been craving all damn day. It feels like coming home, like sliding the last piece of the puzzle into place and finally being able to appreciate the picture in its full beauty. Two halves becoming whole as they tumble into bed together.

The tension that plagued you all day melts away into something familiar and longing, unwinding a hungry heat in your belly that begs for his attention. Those begs don’t have time to make it past your lips, not with how quickly Poe pushes you back onto the bed and shoves your thighs apart to make room for him. Even with the need that lights up the air around you both, Poe’s hands are gentle as he undresses you and discards your clothes on the floor. Somehow his gaze is even softer than his hands, those brown eyes soft and sparkling with so much love and appreciation that you almost can’t breathe under the weight of it.

You watch with bated breath as he bares himself to you. Every inch of tan skin is like a gift for you to cherish and lavish with attention, but when you move to reach for him, he stops you.

“Not yet,” He murmurs soothingly, those wide palms rubbing up and down your soft inner thighs. “Gotta get you ready, honey.”

You know he’s right. No matter what, the size of him is always a stretch, always leaves you twisting the sheets in your hands and gasping out his name so prettily for him. You know he’s right but you whine for it anyway, willing to bear the pinch of pain if it meant finally getting what you’ve been waiting for so impatiently. The firm squeeze he gives your thigh shuts you up.

“Nu-uh, none of that.” He chastises you. “I’m doing this right, gonna get you nice and relaxed for me.”

Poe settles on his belly before you can argue with him. His stubble is rough against your inner thighs as he peppers them with kisses but it feels so fucking good, even better than usual after the hours of anticipation that have eaten you alive. His teeth sink into your left thigh and you know a bruise will form soon, but that is exactly what he wants. He plans to brand you as his in more than one way today.

“Poe, please -” Your words are choked off by a gasp as the warmth of Poe’s tongue flicks against your clit, finally giving you the attention you’ve been aching for all day. Instinctively, your fingers snag in his curls, your back arching up to chase the pleasure of his mouth against your drenched pussy. “Fuck!”

A recklessly loud moan rumbles through him and sends you reeling at the vibrations. He sounds so fucking lost in it, so messy and slick and striving for more. The flat of his tongue rubs in tight little circles and without warning, he pushes two thick fingers into you with ease. That cocky grin you adore curls his lips but he doesn’t falter, rolling with the desperate buck of your hips with ease.

“So good,” Poe groans against you with a breathy laugh, almost in disbelief at how responsive you are for him.

“More… please?” You beg mindlessly.

Poe doesn’t hesitate to give you exactly what you want. He curls his fingers, your little whimpers only egging him on to tease that spot that makes your thighs tremble. Those expert touches drag you higher and higher until your voice breaks around his name, a sure sign you’re about to give him everything he wants.

“C’mon, pretty baby,” He encourages. “That’s right, give it to me. Come for me.”

You shatter under him, long awaited pleasure bursting from your belly and ripping through your entire body. Everything goes black as Poe doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down, even as your thighs threaten to suffocate him. You pulse around his thick fingers, soaking his fingers and his face, and a guttural moan vibrates against your clit, forcing a sharp gasp from you. A warm daze burrows beneath your skin and you go completely lax, much to Poe’s delight.

He lets you savor it, slowly easing his fingers from your fluttering pussy and giving your clit one last kiss, chuckling when you jerk at the stimulation. His stubbled cheek rests on your thigh as he watches you with rapt attention, his eyes glinting with love. It isn’t until you reach for him that he finally speaks.

“Oh, there’s my girl,” Poe murmurs, his lips pursing to kiss your belly before he braces a hand next to your head and leans down to kiss your lips. You’re still out of it, still reeling from the ecstasy that lingers in your blood, but that’s just how he likes you. The head of his cock nudges your entrance, his spit and your slick easing his way, and you finally meet his gaze. “You ready for me, honey?”

Your tongue flicks against your lips as you nod, still far too fucked out to form a single word. You half expect him to tsk at you and coax the words out anyway like he always does, but Poe just matches that eager nod. He lines himself up and guides his cock inside you in a slow, steady push, and your body seizes, your fingers scrabbling for something, anything to hold onto. The head of his cock nudges your cervix, buried as deep as your body can take him, and Poe captures your hand in his, fingers tangled together to hold you tight.

“Oh, my god,” You gasp. The stretch always disarms you. Poe leans over you with half-lidded eyes, his eyebrows furrowed at the feeling of your pussy clenching around his thick cock.

“I know, honey, I know.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, his breath leaves him in little huffs. If you weren’t so destroyed by him, you would bask in seeing him so unraveled by you, but you really are no better. “You’re taking me so well, my perfect girl.”

The praise curls through you and brings a cock drunk smile to your face, one Poe matches a beat later. You cup his jaw and bring him down for a real kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth without hesitation. His hips jerk slightly, grinding against you as if he could somehow bury himself deeper, and your free hand flies to his waist to egg him on, pulling him in to meet the slow roll of your hips. The moment his jaw goes slack you take advantage and nip at that soft lower lip, drinking in his low groan.

He rocks his hips tentatively and you can’t stop the shudder that runs up your spine. There’s a reason Poe acts like the most confident man in the galaxy - it’s because he has the goods to back it up. His cock is thick and long, the perfect size to grind into every sweet spot and make stars burst behind your eyelids, and he fucking knows it, too. Those soft lips curl into a cocky grin and he lands a sharp smack to your ass.

“All you needed was my cock, huh?” Poe taunts lightly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand before releasing it and adjusting your hips to a better position. The strength he holds in his toned body never fails to amaze you.

“I need you to fill me up,” You correct him and his eyes darken, the words stirring something… different in him. “I’m gonna make you a daddy, Poe.”

Fingertip bruises are sure to form on your hips from Poe’s unbreakable as he pins you to the mattress just so he can shift higher onto his knees and angle himself impossibly deeper. You throw your head back into the pillows, your eyes fluttering shut as he splits you open on his cock. You’ve never felt him so deep before and the sudden sharp change in his pace sends you reeling.

“Nu-uh, look at me.” Poe grits out. He grips your chin and forces you to look at him, and the sight of him only makes you even wetter. Those dark eyes glint, brighter than any star system, more glorious than the streaking light of hyperspace, and you could get lost forever in the galaxies he holds in his eyes. The intensity that burns through him has you writhing beneath him, aching for any touch against your clit. Your hand is snatched away when you try to sneak it between your thighs and you whine in dismay. “Shh, baby, don’t you worry. I’m gonna take care of you. You aren’t leaving this room ‘til my baby is in your belly.”

You gush around him, barely recognizing the whimpered words that flow from you, completely unable to hold your tongue. His cock grinds against your g-spot and a rough chuckle leaves him at the way you mewl and beg.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” Poe growls. His hand leaves your hip, brushes down your soft belly and lingers for a moment, contemplative. Before you can even start begging, his thumb presses against your clit but doesn’t fucking move and you’re ready to smack at his chest and demand he gives you what you need, the fucking asshole - “Beg for it, pretty girl. Beg me to knock you up and I’ll let you come.”

“I need it, I need you to fill me up. Give me a baby, Poe.” You whimper, your voice already rough with overuse. No matter how hard you try, you can’t keep your eyes open, not when he finally rubs the pad of his thumb over your clit in rough circles. Another orgasm crashes through you and Poe’s tight grip on your body is the only thing that keeps you grounded, tethered to this moment instead of floating off into the atmosphere.

Curses fly from his mouth but you can barely hear it through the buzzing in your ears, the residual shocks of pleasure reverberating through your body and washing you adrift into a heavenly empty-mindedness. Nothing else exists beyond the heated press of his skin against yours, the contradiction in the way he manhandles you so gently to prop your hips up on his thighs. It takes a beat for your brain to stop buffering, for your ears to reconnect and let you take in the murmurs of praise and love he presses into your skin.

“How’s my girl?” Poe massages your thighs, using the strength honed by years of training to keep you relaxed and pliant for him.

“‘M good,” You mumble. You don’t have to look at him to know he’s radiating pride at how much he’s worn you out. “Sleepy,”

“Do you want to shower tonight or in the morning?” A sleepy smile finds your face. He never fails to make you feel seen and cared for, even after already being so thorough.

“We can tomorrow,” You say around a yawn.

Poe eases himself down onto the bed next to you and pulls you close without hesitation, sighing happily when you burrow your face in his neck. The last thing you hear before drifting off is his quiet ‘I love you’.

[hotwings0203]

Based on a conversation I was having with @anima197

Imagine husband Dabi, scumbag as usual adapting as a newlywed to you

It’s been around a month of you two moving in a small but nice house that his parents bought for you. He’s always been an asshole by personality, but one day he goes too far.

Maybe it’s something he said in a cruel jest to see you rise to the bait, or maybe he touched you in a way that was more than offensive or hurtful. Either way, you finally snap- except, you don’t combust and break down quietly, you turn cold as stone.

You set your jaw, keep your eyes cool and indifferent as you skirt around him when he walks by. He doesn’t know that he’s upset you because you usually brush his tactics off with an eye roll or a pout. He’s never seen you like this, completely ignoring him and barely acknowledging his existence while he tries to get you bothered.

He tries pushing you against a wall to make you flustered, but it doesn’t work. You will your body to become limp and unresponsive as he snarls into your neck and litters it with hickies, desperately trying to pull some sort of sound of either pleasure or pain from you. It doesn’t matter how his hands dance around your tits and between your legs, you just stare ahead past him, your mouth set in a straight line.

He draws back uncertainly at your lack of response, and his heart drops to his stomach when he doesn’t even see tears in your eyes from overstimulation, like you usually do when he attacks you like this.

Before he can even open his mouth you’re already gently pushing past him, and it’s the fact that you’re not even angry or shoving him that makes panic settle on his heart.

This…this indifference, this feeling as if he doesn’t mean anything to you breaks his cocky attitude .

At first he tries to refute the feeling, he merely trails behind you from room to room picking up random objects and pretending that he’s actually doing something apart from eyeing you and assessing your demeanor.

You don’t pay any attention to him. You open your laptop and absentmindedly hum as you begin working on whatever class or job you have. He stands at the entrance, fiddling with a vase and looking at you from the corner of your eye.

“Did you eat yet?” He says in his hoarse voice, almost embarrassed to talk to you after his earlier libido was met with no reaction at all.

Silence.

He sighs frustratedly and runs a hand through his ivory hair. Turning on his heel, he storms out of the room and mindlessly goes to the kitchen, making as big as a racket as possible in hopes of luring you out of your catatonic state to yell at him for being too loud.

He eats alone, in silence.

He doesn’t finish his crappy sandwich, fuming at the bland bread that substitutes for the plentiful food you always make for him.

It’s almost evening now, and you haven’t come out of your room yet to even use the restroom. He’s getting worried now, you’ve never been so quiet before. You’ve at least been fed in the face, a finger pointed at his chest as you yell at him for how he fucked up. So why can’t you do that now? At least he’ll know what to apologize for, dammit! Why does he have to wring it out of you?

He decides a different tactic now.

Hed bully your emotions out of you, one way or another.

You’re about to change your clothes when he walks in for the umpteenth time. You don’t lift your head when he slams the door open and closes it behind him, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Why are you being such a bitch today?”

After a few beats of silence, he barrels towards you while you shrug on your nightie. He grabs your face towards him and knocks on your forehead harshly.

“Hello? Anyone in there?” He shakes your head lightly.

You look at his collarbones and then gently pull your face away, heading off to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

Dabi stares at you in shock, his ha da still suspended in midair. Did he really mess up that badly?

The panic in his heart has risen to his throat, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

He’s 13 years old again

His father is ignoring him

He messed up, he didn’t train well enough today

In the process of trying to be better than everyone else he had effectively isolated himself again

He’s practically invisible because he fucked up so bad

He stumbles back out of the room and falls onto the couch, clutching his hair and panting with wide eyes into a pillow. It takes him a couple of minutes to tone down his impending panic attack

By the time he has enough nerve to get into bed with you, the lights are already off and you’re seemingly fast asleep.

Dabi quietly trudges over to the side of the bed and stands over your sleeping figure.

You look so peaceful right now without any part of him to bother you. He wonders if you’re better off without him.

He slowly crawls under the sheets with you and faces your back. He knows you need space but he can’t help it when his arms move around you to hold you tight against him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what I did to make you this upset, but I know I fucked up. Please just-“

His voice catches in his throat, and at this you crack an eye open, making sure to keep your breathing deep and level.

“Just tell me what I did. Or at least just forgive me for whatever I did…I miss you.” He whispers this last part and buried his head in your hair, taking deep breaths and inhaling your scent. It makes his aching heart beat a little slower.

You don’t say anything, but after a full minute of silence you slowly turn to face him. He unconsciously grips your body harder against him as if he were afraid you’re going to push him away again.

But instead to his amazement, you have both eyes open and trained on him. He knows to keep his mouth shut when you prop your head up on one hand and frown slightly at him.

“You’ve been on my nerves for the past week now. Every time I try to talk you either cut me off or just shut me up with sex. You never clean up after yourself and laugh it off when I actually ask you to do something.”

He swallows hard and waits with bated breath for you to finish.

“You literally hounded me down for almost years to get married, and only a month after we actually get together you start acting out.”

You stare at him and he knows he can talk now.

“I’m…sorry. I’ll try to be, uh, better.” He finished lamely, and he cringes when he realized how pathetic his apology was.

But much to his surprise, a small little smile forms at your lips. Compared to how he never even acknowledged how big of an ass he usually is, this was a huge step in your relationship with him.

“Yeah, we’ll see. You better be on your best behavior for a while now.” And with that, you turn over and flop down into the plushy comforter.

Dabi let’s put a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the weight on his chest being lifted.

“So, uh…can I still like, touch..you?” He trails off, and you’re glad he can’t see the 50k watt smile on your face when he shifts uncomfortably.

“If you make it up to me, maybe.”

Dabi grins too.

“I don’t think you’ll ever have a problem with that.”

[sugamamacustard]

Rut

Pairing: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Atsumu Miya x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Kiyoomi Sakusa x Omega! Reader

Genre: NSFW

Request: Hi, custard💕 your writing is soso wonderful! Can I request headcanons about alpha!Kuroo, alpha!Atsumu, alpha!Sakusa (separately) going into rut with his fem!omega!S/O?

Summary: You and your alpha have been through so much together, but how are the reacting when their rut hits?

Author’s Note: Holy wow guys, going through my requests, there’s a lot of Sakusa ones. So I caved and decided this is a good a place as any to start with him! And thank you so much! 

I’m vibrating bc I just got accepted into Uni and just-

Requests: Open!

WARNING: Smut, Daddy Kink in Atsumu, slight bondage in Sakusa’s. Please give me some daddy kink asks

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵Ah yes, thirst asks. One of my favorites- even if I try keeping up the innocent writer façade. I’m not. My other blog has some filthy smut on it. 

➵ Anyway, moving on. 

➵    Kuroo is a rough lover as is. He teases, he drags you along a long, long road for you orgasm, pounding you into the mattress. and drawing all sorts of pathetic mewls out of you.

➵It’s okay to drool.

➵It’s just his alpha instincts that make him want to mark you from tit to toe. 

➵He, on a normal basis, bites you and claws your hips anyway, but when his rut hits?

➵He’s feral. 

➵ There will be bite marks littered up and down your spine and bruises practically imprinted on your hips. 

➵You better believe you are not leaving your nest until his rut is done. You are stuck. 

➵Though he’s always ears open incase you need to tap out, his alpha always always putting you first.

➵But if you stick through it?

➵He is rough and feral and pounding into your poor abused entrance until your sobbing. 

➵ You most likely have to plan for his rut two weeks in advance 

➵Which is hard between dancing around his pre-rut symptoms and prepping yourself for what is sure to be a week of pure, filthy sex. 

➵Okay let’s side bar into Pre-rut bc I don’t think I went into a lot. 

➵Tetsuro’s Pre-rut isn’t terrible. He mostly just sticks around as often as he can, growling at anyone who steps too close to you, feeding you his lunch, scenting you constantly. 

➵Definitely one of the better ones to have during this time, I tell ya. 

➵But of course, he makes it a little difficult while your trying to discreetly stock up on easy grab snacks and water jugs. 

➵Kenma helps out a lot though, he honestly is probably your best friend is your dating Kuroo.

---

The hand around your throat kept you pinned to the plush bottom of your nest. Your mewls and moans were muffled but at this point you couldn’t hear them, even if you wanted too, through the blood rushing through your ears. Your hips hurt with how hard Tetsuro was gripping them, pulling you in time with his thrusts. 

“Fuck kitten.” His growl had you gushing slick around his cock, making him, in turn, growl lower. His hips were moving at such a rapid pace, you couldn’t see them, even if you wanted to. All you could do was feel his cock drag in and out of your gushing hole, pleasure wringing your stomach like a wet towel. 

“Alpha- Alpha, gonna- gonna cum on your- your- holy FUCK-” You turned your head to bite the pillows beneath you, feeling yourself tighten around Tetsuro. He sunk his teeth into your mating mark, making you gasp as you came with a loud whimper, pushing back onto him as he continued fucking you within an inch of any actual thoughts. 

Just your alpha and how good he was making you feel. 

You felt his hips still as a warm load of cum shot into you, filling you to the brim and making you hum in bliss.  Tetsuro chuckled, unlatching from your neck and lapping at the pearls of blood poking through. He allowed you to catch your breath before pulling you to sit on his thighs, cock still buried deep inside of you-- his knot just barely staying out. 

“Good kitten. Now, let’s see if I can fuck some pups into you.”

Atsumu Miya

➵Alright, let’s set the seeds of how I imagine one of the Miya’s in bed. 

➵Atsumu absolutely adores the earth you walk on. 

➵Even if he had to fight Osamu for you in the beginning. It was all worth it. 

➵He treated you well, worshipping you in bed. There is never a time he hasn’t had you quivering because of his tongue. 

➵He, however, is also such an asshole in the bedroom. 

➵Like yes, he’s pulling you to sit on his face, but yes, he’s also edging you until your sobbing and grinding your self against him. 

➵If your riding him, he’s suddenly holding your hips down and making you cockwarm him while he does some sort of shit on his phone. 

➵If he’s holding you missionary, he can just as quickly can pull you into a mating press, locking your arms between your chest and knees, absolutely pounding into your poor entrance. 

➵ So while Atsumu can be generous and can absolutely worship you, he also can and will be a huge asshole. 

➵His rut doesn’t make it any better. 

➵He just gets worse.  

➵He either makes you sob with pleasure or beg for something. 

➵Like, you thought Atsumu would be the horny, needy, whiny one?

➵You thought wrong. Atsumu knows exactly how to turn his hormones against you, make them work for him

➵Side bar once more: Atsumu’s pre-rut? SUCKS-

➵Sorry not sorry. 

➵This man prolly doesn’t realize his rut is approaching until you pop into the gym, excusing him from practice for the week.

➵He doesn’t care about it before that. Sorry man.

---

“Is your alpha’s cock not enough for you?” His voice was silky as he hissed at you, fingers clawing at your hips, keeping you perched just above his knot. “I thought I was the horny one.” 

You whimpered above him, hands clawing his shoulders as you struggled to hold yourself up. You didn’t want to disappoint daddy, did you?

A harsh smack to your ass had you yelping, throwing your head back as you cried out a mix between a chirp and a moan. 

“Answer Daddy when he’s talking to you.” 

“I’m sorry Daddy- so sorry! I promise to be good. Be good for Daddy. Patient and good. Daddy’s cock fills me so nicely-”  You yelped when another smack stung your ass cheeks, making you shut your mouth. 

Atsumu grumbled into your chest, loosening his grip ever so slightly before pulling you up, quickly slamming you down before repeating the process. He ignored any protest you gave, instead chasing his own release. Slick dripped between your thighs, coating his own thighs as well. 

“Is my prince(ss) making a mess of themselves?” He snickered, keeping his pace as you built up to your orgasm. You nodded wildly, trying to keep up with his brutal pace. 

“Just for daddy!” You yelped, throwing your head onto his shoulder. “Daddy- gonna-gonna cum!” 

You nearly cried when he stopped, feeling him chuckle into your chest.  

“Not yet, sweet cheeks. After all...This week is all about daddy.” 

Kiyoomi Sakusa

➵Sakusa, Sakusa, Sakusa. Where do I begin with you sweet prince. 

➵ You know what, we’ll start with our sidebar. 

➵It’s not you prepping. It’s him. He like- hardcore- nests. Like he’s the alpha, yeah, but there’s so many things he has to prep.

➵Like your nest? All the blankets have to be sanitized and re-scented and the pillows have to be washed and re fluffed-

➵His room (Where you keep one of many nests) has to be cleaned and reorganized and he has to restock your snack stash and purify the water jugs-

➵God he just has so much to do okay-

➵Sex itself is just a lot of work for poor Sakusa.

➵He’s come a long way though. 

➵Only for you though. 

➵I can imagine Omi being super into Toys because less... ya know... 

➵He’ll still fuck you until your knees wobble and knock together, but he’s also into the little bullet vibrators that he can hold onto your nipples or clit (Dependent) 

➵His rut makes these unacceptable. His alpha won’t allow it. 

➵He can pleasure you just fine without the use of toys, 

➵I can also imagine he’d be super into, like, face to face positions so he focus on your beautiful features instead on the mess below you guys. 

---

Your wrists were bound above your head with your knees pressed to your chest. The smell of alcohol was pungent under the stench of sex, making your nose scrunch.  Omi was keeping you pinned, thrusting in slow, calculated thrusts, grinding against you with ever pull. 

You were whimpering with every pull and push of Omi’s cock against your walls, teasing you in the most aggravating, but delicious, way.   

You could see the way he eyes your every reaction, beautiful eyes blown with lust tracing every facial feature of yours. Watching every reaction you gave him. Watching you. 

He grunted when your walls clutched him a little too tightly, slowing his thrusts a little more. “So good to me omega, letting me use you any way I want. “ 

He hissed when the praise seemed to do nothing but clutch him tighter, teetering him even closer to the edge. He wouldn’t give in, pulling out completely, instead replacing his dick with his fingers and teasing your sweet spot (He could practically pinpoint it at this point). 

Slick coated his fingers, making him smirk as you withered against him. Turns out, you were just as close as he was, if not closer.  

“Now, let’s see how good I can be to you.”

[xpeachesncream]

back to you | drabble (jjk)

↳ drabbles masterlist

yours (ft. the bands!couple) | drabble one: you’ve seen jungkook get angry, but this is the first time he’s ever let it out on you.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: cussing, implied sexual content, more fluff than anything

tags: @thebeebi​ @miinoongi​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @bluesharksandfish​ @unicornbabylover​ @ayujaded​

Jungkook steps down from the stage after performing Euphoria, aggressively throwing his towel against the wall in anger.

"FUCK!" He yells loudly in frustration, startling some of the staff as hot tears starting to spill down his cheeks. It's been a long time since Jungkook felt unsatisfied with a performance. He was so, so unsatisfied because of a small mistake only he could notice, however, it was big enough to shoot him down. All he wanted was to put up a good performance for the fans, for the people that paid money to watch them here, and he felt like such a fucking failure not meeting his end of it.

"Kookie, what's wrong?" Hobi follows after him when he sees the anger clear as day on his face, tears still coming down as his nose was beginning to turn red.

"Nothing." He mumbles as he shuts himself into a private room backstage and slams the door loudly that it echoes through the hallway.

"What just happened?" You ask Hobi as you jog over, unable to catch Jungkook right away since you had been busy getting Jimin ready for his solo performance. "He needs to get ready."

"He's pissed. I think he messed up and he's taking it pretty hard."

"Messed up?" You were confused because you had no clue what he was talking about. You caught the performance as much as possible, and you didn't hear one fucked up note or see one fucked up step.

"You know him." Is all Hobi says, making you sigh.

"Go get touched up, I'll go see what's up with him."

"He's in there." Hobi nods towards a room before he's jogging back to the chaos in the group dressing room. You silently walk over to the door, giving it three soft knocks before leaning closer to listen for any movement.

"I'll be out in a fucking second, can you wait?!" He yells, which catches you by surprise because you definitely haven't see him this angry since the night him and Jimin fought at the dorm and to be quite honest, you're still learning how to handle angry Jungkook. You open the door and peek your head through, hoping he could simmer once he sees it's you.

But he doesn't, and that's what fucking sucks.

He looks at you, and it breaks your heart seeing him cry. Your face softens as you try to come closer but you jump back when he suddenly gets up to walk towards the other side of the room to create some distance. You stay put to watch him, his back is facing towards you with his hands pressed firmly against his hips.

"Not now, Y/N."

"Babe, I just—"

"Did you not just hear me? Not now. So please go." You almost flinch at his tone, the way he delivers his statement.

"Jungkook, please let me in. Let me make it better." You come behind him, hand gently grabbing at his shoulder. For a second, you feel him ease up, but it doesn't last long before his walls are coming back up. He moves out of your grip and walks away from you while pinching the bridge of his nose.

"It was such a stupid mistake." He says softly.

"Baby, whatever it was, it was a tiny mistake because we didn't even—" I guess this was your first lesson in dealing with angry Jungkook— choose your words wisely. Jungkook is such a perfectionist that he's incredibly hard on himself when it comes to things like this. No mistake is ever tiny to him. It all becomes a huge deal because he just wants to keep people happy. He wants to make sure he can follow through.

"See, you don't even get it." He snaps at you.

"Excuse me? Are you serious right now, Jungkook?" You cross your arms and scoff at him.

"That wasn't just a tiny mistake Y/N!" His tone slightly raises. "It was a huge deal for me!" He sighs and shakes his head.

"I'm just trying to help."

"Yeah well, you really aren't making this any fucking better. So just go, okay?" As soon as the words leave his mouth, he looks at you and instantly regrets it when he catches a small frown forming at the corner of your lips. "Shit, baby—"

"No, you know what? I might not understand right off the bat but I was gonna do my best to try and do so because I wanna do what I can to be there for you." You throw your hands up in defeat. "But fine, Jungkook. If that's how you wanna be, then go ahead and fucking shut me out." You fire back, annoyed that he's giving you hella attitude when your only intention was to support him.

"Y/N—" He tries to grab your wrist but you yank it out of his grip.

"Get yourself ready, you have 10 mins before you need to be back on stage." You avoid eye contact and slam the door shut.

"Fuuuuuck." Jungkook groans and hits the chair before letting out a deep sigh and making his way back to the group. When he gets back to the room, he sees you assisting Jin, your bottom lip tucked under your top lip while you bit onto it. He can see Jin's mouth moving and your head nodding, but he can't really make out the conversation with all the noise and chaos going on.

Fuck, he fucked up. All he wanted to do was tell you how sorry he was for snapping at you and for letting his anger out on you that way.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Jin asks you softly, his eyes full of concern when he catches your wet lashes. He can tell you had just been crying, and has a good sense of why.

"Kook is being a meanie." Jin chuckles as you fix his shirt.

"He gets like that when he isn't happy with himself."

"I'm only trying to help though."

"I know, and I'll give him a good ass-whooping later for treating you like that."

"God, he's so mean when he's pissed like that. I've never had to personally deal with angry Jungkook like this."

"He pushes everyone away and doesn't know any better, but he'll learn from this. Let him. He needs to understand that he can't take his feelings out on you like that just because you're his girlfriend."

"Thank you." You softly say as you finish rolling the lint roller across his broad shoulders.

"Of course." Jin winks. "Cheer up." He gives your shoulder a good squeeze before he's rushing out with the rest of the boys.

The rest of the night is quiet between you and Jungkook, mainly because you're doing your best to 'let him learn' and avoid him even though it was the hardest thing to do. He had tried to subtly grab your attention every now and then, but you brushed it off and paid no mind to it. Halfway through, he had realized he just needed to give you space. Every part of you wanted to cling onto him like a koala and tell him how frustratingly and annoyingly cute he was, but there was also a small part that was still upset at the shit he said. You were still hurt at how easy it was for him to lash out on you like that, let alone push you away when he wasn't feeling his best.

Once the show was over and you and the staff had done a great deal of cleaning up, you finally headed home in one of the staff cars, the boys already back at the hotel resting up and eating. You quietly make your way to your room on the same floor as the boys, hearing their laughter erupting from one of the rooms down the hallway. At the front of your door was a small box of fried chicken wings and a bag of radishes, most likely from Jungkook. You normally ordered room service or grabbed Kook's leftovers, moreso cause you were too tired from the day to even think about eating a huge meal. You let out a small sigh, grabbing the box as you walk in and set it on the table. You take a quick shower, lathering up in some lotion before throwing on Jungkook's longsleeve.

Technically, you weren't allowed to sleep in Jungkook's room and he wasn't allowed in yours, but your boyfriend always does what he wants and never plays by the rules in the book [as we've learned]. He always finds a way to sneak over, texting you right as he gets to your door and slipping out bright and early the next morning. It was some high school shit, but you genuinely understood wholeheartedly why they tried to keep that rule in place during the tour.

Jungkook is just always gonna be stubborn though, which is why you hear him knocking loudly as if it wasn't getting late.

"Y/N." He keeps his forehead against the door. You sit still in absolute silence until he speaks again. "Babygirl, I'm sorry. Please let me in." You continue to sit in silence, a little torn on whether or not you should let him in or let him be for the night. Were you too quick if you were to let him in? I mean, the fight wasn't huge, but it was still enough to sting. "Baaaaby." He whines.

"What are you doing?" Taehyung whispers harshly. "You're gonna get in trouble." Jungkook keeps his forehead against your door and simply lifts a hand to Taehyung to prevent him from going on any further.

"Fuck it."

"Jungkookie, go back—" Kook points down the hallway, forehead still pressed against your door like a child on timeout.

"You go back. I'm fine here." Taehyung silently chuckles to himself before crossing his arms and retreating back to his room, listening to the repeated, soft "y/n's" and "baby's" coming from Jungkook.

When you realize he isn't going to leave, and you sure as hell don't want him to get in trouble, you sigh and get up from the bed to open the door for your man. You turn the knob and slightly pull back just enough to open your door and let him do the rest. You head back to your bed, not turning behind you when you hear him walk in and shut your door. He quietly comes into your view, but you continue to sit criss-crossed on your bed, scrolling through your phone while the TV was providing some background noise.

Okay, you might have been acting like a level 10 brat, but he hurt your feelings when you were only trying to help.

"Hmmm, baby." He whines and pouts as he climbs onto the bed and rests his chin on your leg. When you still don't pay him any mind, he sucks on his teeth and gently puts your phone down so you have no choice but to look at him. "Baby, I'm sorry." He sits up, his hand gently caressing your thigh.

"Do you even know what you're sorry for?"

"I was being mean. I didn't mean to take my anger out on you like that."

"You sure were being a meanie." You slightly pout, causing him to sigh in regret. He never, never wanted to hurt you. Yet, one quick moment of vulnerability and the first thing he does is hurt you.

God, he felt like a dumbass.

"Babygirl, fuck. I didn't mean to hurt you, I was just being stupid." He sits next to you and pats the open space in between his legs for you to fill. You quietly climb in between, allowing him to hug you from behind and plant kisses along your cheek, jaw and neck.

"Kook, are you always gonna push me away like that? Especially on days where you don't feel your best? When you don't feel satisfied with yourself? Cause if that's the case— how are we gonna work if you won't let me in?"

"No baby, no. I just— Fuck, honestly. I don't know. I felt so insecure over the smallest thing. I made it a big deal for no reason. I just wanted to look good for the fans. For you. I wanted you and everyone else to be proud." You slightly turn and cup his cheek, Kook leaning into it and pressing a kiss against your palm.

"They are so, so proud of you. Always. The fans, the boys, the staff. Me. You are so hardworking and dedicated to your craft. You are the most talented person I know." You sigh. "What really happened out there?"

"I messed up a note. It was subtle, but enough for me to notice and trip on the next dance move."

"There's always going to be room for improvement, babe. But that will never change the fact that your fans and the people around you adore you. They will love you, flaws and all." He looks at you before lifting your chin with his finger and placing a soft peck on your lips. He never used to care about how people looked at him, still doesn't. But when it comes to his performances, his singing, dancing— he's very particular and wants nothing but to please people. He just didn't know how to stop being so hard on himself, where to place boundaries. He didn't know how to differentiate between big and small mistakes.

"I love you." He whispers, thumb gently caressing your chin before placing another kiss against your lips. "I love you so much, and I'm so sorry for being mean to you earlier. I never meant to hurt you or push you away."

"And I'm sorry for being a brat back." He chuckles. "I love you, too."

"Deserved it, I'll let it slide." You giggle as he hugs you tightly, playfully kissing you everywhere that he possibly can. "I missed you."

"You saw me all night."

"I saw you, but you didn't come close to me."

"Which you deserved."

"Which I deserved." He nods in agreement. "Now I just wanna shower my baby in kisses." He continues to pepper you with soft kisses. "By the way, did you get the chicken?"

"Yeah, thank you." You smile at him.

"You have more?" Your smile instantly fades while you push yourself off of him and hop off the bed.

"You came here for my chicken?!"

"No! Obviously I came here to make things right and apologize." You bite onto your bottom lip to prevent yourself from smirking. "Just thought I could get a little bonus and snag your leftovers, you know?" His doe eyes were wide, lips slightly pouty. "Soooo, let me see what's in that box." He looks at the chicken box behind you and wiggles his eyebrows.

"Unbelievable." You joke as he lifts you up from the legs and gently [not really] throws you back onto the bed before running to your chicken box. "Jungkook! I will whoop your ass if you touch my chicken." He scrunches his nose, bunny smile coming into full view as he places a finger on top of your box. "Ugh!" You throw a pillow at him.

"Oh, so you wanna get fiesty? I'll show you fiesty." He rushes back onto the bed, tickling you into the sheets.

"You started it!"

"And I'm gonna finish it." He stares at you as you lay beneath him. "Off with your clothes, sweetheart." He whispers into your ear, causing you to squeal.

[compressingsins]

Trouble Maker

Requested by; @dekuslilhousewife

Pairing; Dom! Daichi x bratty! chubby! fem reader

Warnings; Dom Daichi, sub reader, vaginal penetration, overstimulation, creampie, oral (m!recieving), (Daichi is kind of mean in this, but doesn't means it).

Summary; Daichi, has had a long day at work. When he comes home, he's tired, exhausted but YOU. You think he isn't as tired as he says he is, and now you're really starting to piss him off. Your begging, and nagging, is aggravating him so much. He wants to just relax, and chill but you're just so needy.

You sighed to yourself, the sound of your sigh echoing a little through your empty living room. Only you're home, your boyfriend every since your first years in high school, Daichi Sawamura, is at work. He's on the way though, but you're getting impatient.

His job is hard, besides having coach Ukai asking Daichi to come mentor and help the new first, second, and third years. He has a hell of a lot on his plate, but you... you just really miss him.

The thought of cooking him dinner before he came home, did cross your mind. But you don't feel like it, and you know he probably won't even eat it because he'll be tired, as soon as he walks in.

But not today! Tomorrow, he has the day off so you want him up with you the entire day. Does he see it that way, though? You don't even know, nor do you necessarily care. You just want him UP and awake, enjoying his day off with you.

Laying on the couch with your covers over your body, you sighed, picking up the tv controller to increase the volume. You chucked, hearing a quite vulgar joke from the main character of the cartoon series, Family Guy, that you loved.

Daichi would always complain to you about it. That it's really not appropriate, and since he sometimes act like a dad, he always try to change your channel whenever he catches you watching it. Which is total, dipshit because what the hell? You love that show!

As you were getting into it though, a knock was heard on the door, your eyes darting over. You instantly, jumped from your seat, Family Guy being forgotten in the meantime.

You stood at the door hearing him put the key in from the outside, and turn it until that little click was heard. You smiled brightly, both your hands behind your back just waiting to hug him.

Once the door opened, your face lit up even more. "Welcome home, babe!" You greet-shouted, but when you tried to hug him, he dodged it moving to the side, you almost hitting the door.

You didn't even mind, still smiling at your boyfriend who was exhausted. You followed behind him. "Hey, babe!" You said once more, as the both of you went into the kitchen, him preparing himself a drink. "How was work?" You questioned, leaning on the counter.

He looked at you, with a small smile. "Uh... yeah, it was good, babe-" He informed, you still smiling at him watching him take a glass bottle from one of your cabinets. "-how was yours?"

"It's better now that you're here." You informed him, he smiled with a huff of air coming from his nostrils. He popped the cork to the bottle, you watching his every move while keep looking up at his face. "So, I was thinking... could we possibly-"

"No." He immediately cut you off, which made you gasp. You were slightly confused, but thought he was playing therefore, you walked over to him and hugged him from behind.

"Oh come on, you didn't even let me ask you the question yet, babe."

Daichi sighed. "Well-" He turned to you, and picking up his cup. "-what is it?" He questioned as you let him go to take a step back.

You looked him in the face, still smiling. You were kind of embarrassed to ask this question, for you've never asked this before, so you fiddled with your fingers trying not to mess up with your words.

"I was thinking, since you've got the entire day off-" Daichi hummed, letting you continue. "-why don't we, spend some time together?"

He took a sip of his drink then turned slightly to put it down behind him. As he turned back to you, he shook his head leaving you confused as he walked towards your shared bedroom. "I can't babe, sorry."

You followed behind him, all sad like an unfed puppy dog. "Oh come on babe!" You complained as you both entered your bedroom, him beginning to take off his work clothes which you didn't say nothing about. Well, it's not like you haven't seen him naked before so you didn't care.

He entered the room fully, as you stood at the door. "You've been working so hard, and I just wanna be your..." You looked away, thinking of something to say. "...uh, your stress reliever."

Daichi sighed. "Baby, I'm tired, okay? I've been working all day, and plus!" You crossed your arms with a roll of your eyes. "Coach needed me to help his students, so that's an extra hour of work."

You knew he was right, but you just want to spend some time with your boyfriend. You love him so much, but you do understand where he's coming from. However, your urges, are getting in the way of your understandings.

You watched as he sat down to untie his shoes. "I need your help too, babe!" You pouted like a little kid, knowing he was going to help you, when you did that. So you kept pouting because, he always-

"That cute little pout baby-" He stood up and walked in front of you and caressed your cheek. "-won't work on me today." He pecked your lips, and went into your bathroom that's in the room.

You gasped, following him once again. "How dare you kiss me, and won't help me you asshole!" You complained, all dramatically but you really wanted that kiss, and you definitely want to feel his lips on yours again.

Taking your bottom lip in between your teeth, you leaned agaisnt the wall and crossed your arms, just watching him fumble through everything.

"Because, your lips are mine Y/N-" He boldly said, smirking at you making you blush. Before you could protest, he cut you off. "-and, because you really wanted that kiss, I know."

Your head jerked back. "No I didn't." You tried to sound cold, but only cute to him which made Daichi chuckle. He walked over to you, and caressed your cheek once again.

"Really?" He chucked, and pecked your lips again before walking into your bedroom again. You turned to him, watching as he began unbuttoning his dress shirt.

"Yes really! That kiss, was disgusting..." You lied, and he knew it. You love kisses from Daichi, because to be honest, his lips are actually quite soft. That's the main reason, you love kissing him.

He turned to you, still unbuttoning his shirt. "Come on babe-" You said to him. "-I just want your attention sometimes." You pouted, turning your head to look at anything but him.

"I'm sorry babe, but I'm tired." His reply, which made you sigh and roll your eyes.

You began walking to your door to go into the hallway as you mumbled, "Always neglecting me." Which made your boyfriend gasp.

His voice stopped you in your tracks. "What did you just say to me?" He asked, his tone low and not joking at all. When you didn't answer, he said, "Y/N-" You turning to him slowly, seeing his more than pissed off expression. "-what did you say to me?"

You looked down at the floor. He then walked over to you, and slammed the door behind you, making your entire body jump. You were still looking at the floor, only his legs and feet in sight.

"Did you say, what I think you said?" He questioned, staring down at you. His hand that slammed the door, caging that side of your body in. As soon as he saw you shifting, he slammed his right hand on the other side.

You could see he was shirtless, only his boxers, and pants on. "Look at me, now." His tone extremely cold, your body froze up. "Y/N." He said your name, you slowly began looking up at him.

He looked beyond pissed. His eyes narrowed, his previous smile dropped into a frown. "Why did you say that?" He asked, observing your face.

Your lips started moving, but nothing coming out until you stuttered, "I-I said-"

"Don't, lie to me." You could tell by his tone, that he wasn't freaking playing with you. You jumped a little, knowing you made your boyfriend really upset from that little comment you just had to say. You tried looking down again but, "Uh no-" Your gaze shifting to Daichi. "-look at me, and answer correctly."

"I-I said that-" You gulped harshly. "-you always... neglect me." Even though he heard you say it, he seemed to get even more pissed off, once you repeated yourself.

"And why did you say that, Y/N?"

You closed your eyes and gulped once more. "Because, you never wanna spend time with me-" You stated. "-you always come home, and then go to sleep." You looked away, not turning your head. "It's never, any time spent with me."

Daichi sighed. "You gotta understand Y/N. I'm tired, working nine hours a day, okay?" Yeah, you knew that but like... "I can't speed every second with you, because of my job."

"But-"

"Did I ask you to speak?" Your mouth immediately shut, trying your best to look him in the eyes. "Good girl. Now, how can I spend time with you if I work that many hours?" He questioned, staring you in the eyes deeply.

"I'm your girlfriend-" He gasped, but let you finish. "No matter what, you should find some time to spend with me." You tried to sound like you weren't nervous, but he knew you were but it didn't make him happy or anything.

He suddenly gripped your shoulder. "Daichi, what are-" He cut you off by shoving you down on your knees, your face right in front of his crotch.

"You think I don't know what you want, you fucking whore?" Oh God, he's in the mood but you'd be lying if you said you weren't too. "I see how you strut around me, whenever I get home from work, slut."

You were never really a fan of the name calling, but you tolerated it. Daichi quickly began unbuckleing his belt, your face getting even more flushed. "I'm tired of your shit Y/N-" He said, snatching off his belt, throwing it to the side.

"-you know I'm doing these hours for us." He unbuttoned his pants, zipping down his fly as he yanked his pants down his meaty legs. "I guess you're just too much of an cock hungry whore, to wait until I can spend time with you."

He stepped out of the wholes of his pants, straightening his tone body up. His boxers tent was huge. You know your boyfriend isn't little, bigger than average and he was really hard.

Though, you two only had sex three times in your entire relationship, just because he's forever busy with work. Using both thumbs, he tucked them into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down, his cock slapping against his abdomen making a smack sound.

It was thick, long, and hard leaking insane amounts of pre-cum. You didn't know how to react, his tip an intimidating red.

Your eyes went wide because for some reason, he looks bigger... than the last time, you seen him naked fully. He saw your facial expression, but didn't care at all. Gripping his cock, he jerked it a couple of times, then pointing it directly in your face.

You looked up at him with big innocent eyes. "Suck." He wasn't asking you, he demanded you to suck him off. He wasn't about to tolerate any of your bullshit, so he grabbed your chin with his left hand titling it to look at him, and his cock with the other. "I said, suck." His voice even deeper than before.

You gulped and wrapped your chubby soft fingers around his cock. Instantly, he groaned at the contact. You gave him two warm up pumps of your hand, then slowly maneuvered your mouth to his cock.

He watched your every move, as you took the tip into your mouth, his head titled back as he moaned. You haven't done this before, so you honestly don't know what the hell you're doing. Considering the fact that he's already mad, you're going to do it anyway.

You wrapped your lips around his head, your tongue gliding over his slit collecting his pre-cum. He moaned loudly at this, looking back down at you as you suck his cock.

His right hand caressed the back of your head, only gliding his hand through your hair. His head titled back up, letting you do what you do. Your tongue constantly grazed his slit, his body shivering each time it did.

He began moaning deeply, your free hand grasping the base of his cock, stroking hard and slowly to the tip. His gasp, let you know you where doing good, so you began squeezing his cock harder while stroking it at a medium pace.

His hand gripped some of your hair, you moaned around his tip, earning a moan from Daichi. You felt as if you needed to do now, so you grasped his cock with both of your hands, tugging and pulling up to the base, as you sucked his tip.

Daichi bit his lip trying to conceal his moans, but was failing each time you pumped him harder. Then, both his hands grasped the back of your head, as he began thrusting himself into your mouth.

You tried your best to keep a hold of his cock, which you did. His rough thrusting of his hips making saliva drip from your mouth, but he didn't care. "This is what you -Ah- wanted isn't it, Y/N?~" He asked between thrust, and moans.

You were struggling to breathe, but he still didn't care. He stood still, just to continue pulling your head back and forth on his cock. His tip hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag and push on his legs. "Stop complaining, and take whatever the fuck I give you, slut."

He was panting like a bitch in heat, your eyes closed tightly trying to breathe through your nose. "You wanted my attention, ahhh-" He moaned deeply. "-and now... I'm giving it to you!" His voice cracked at the end, as he liked your nose agaisnt his abdomen.

Your nose pressing agaisnt abdomen, his body jerking and you feeling the back of your throat heat up with his cum. Thick spurts went down your throat, you trying your best to not spit it up.

Daichi was breathing heavily, gently rocking his hips into your mouth getting out all his cum. His eyes were closed tightly, and so were yours. "Take it all, Y/N." He said, slowing his hips until finally, he came to a stop. He stayed inside your mouth for about five seconds, then slowly began pushing you off.

Once you fell on your back coughing, Daichi instantly picked you up and tossed you onto the bed. You tried sitting up, but he grabbed your wrist and pinned you down, staring into your eyes. He was still mad, but not as much since you just gave him one of his best orgasms ever.

Your eyes were narrowed a bit, due to the abuse of your throat. You coughed, but Daichi put his hand over your mouth. "I don't want you to swallow, or spill a drop of my cum until we're done, you got me?"

You nodded obediently, not wanting him to break your plush body. When he sees it completely exposed to only his eyes, he can't control himself like at all. You're only wearing a big t-shirt, his, and panties because why not?

"Actually-" Daichi tapped your thigh. "-I want you on your stomach, now." You obeyed without hesitation. As you did, you felt him slide your shirt up over your plush ass. His hand grip your right cheek, him humming in satisfaction of the jiggle.

You gasped, for he smacked your left cheek hard but you still didn't open your mouth. "You're so beautiful, Y/N." Daichi complimented, like he always does you when you're doing something like this.

He's well aware of your insecurities, but he also knows you don't have any when it's just you and him. Though, he still wants you to know it. Your cunt was leaking of your fluids, and spasming from desperation.

Daichi hooked a finger in the middle band of your panties, you moaning at the contact his finger made with your clit. To be honest, you know you aren't prepared for this. You and Daichi haven't had sex in a while, and you know you aren't prepped for this.

You haven't been pleasuring yourself, because you know it wouldn't feel as good as Daichi's cock. Your body jerked forward, once you felt spit drip down and into your clenching hole.

Daichi smirked at hearing your cute little sounds. He gripped his cock, that was still hard, and began jerking himself off a little then spit on it too. His left hand went to your lower back to hold you in place.

He stared down at his cock as he held you down, while jerking himself. You were getting impatient, but as if he could read your mind, you could feel his tip intruding in your heaven.

Your thighs squeezed together, his cock feeling thicker than it looked and felt in your mouth. Daichi groaned whilst closing his eyes, still pushing himself deep into you. Your hands bawled into fist, eyes clenching shut as his thick cock ripped your insides.

You reached both hands back trying to get him to stop, because it was slightly hurting, but he grabbed both your hands and pushed them into the empty spaces beside your head. "Don't try and stop me Y/N-" He groaned in your ear. "-this is what you wanted, so you're gonna fucking take it."

His hips reared back, as he then pushed forward almost knocking the breath out of you. Your eyes clenched tighter, your forehead pressing agaisnt the mattress, with sweat seeping from your pores.

His grip on your wrist tightened, as he began thrusting harder, your cervix already being abused and he's barely started. "You can't- ah- take it, babe?" He asked almost mocking you, but you couldn't say anything back.

Daichi chuckled, thrusting slowly but slamming in hard, almost penetrating right through the entrance of your womb. Your head was fuzzy, the veins of his cock tickling your plush, slippery, wet walls. He began kissing your neck. "Your little pussy-" One hard thrust. "-is mine." And another hard thrust.

You were about to scream because he increased his pace. His thick tip hitting your g-spot repeatedly. Your walls now clenching tightly on him. "You about to cum Y/N?" He asked, chuckling letting go of your wrist only to wrap his left arm around your body, and his right hand went to your clit.

Your body jerked forehead, yours own hands went to the sides of your head. Daichi was kissing, and tattooing hickeys over your entire back. "Come on babe-" He said with a particular hard thrust that had you almost clenching your fist, until it was about to pop literally.

"-I know you wanna- ah! cum~" Your walls clenching down tighter on him as he sat up a little, his left hand gripping your hip and the right one still rubbing circle eights on your clit.

Your body was on fire. His cock was grazing your insides slowly, but when he went back in, his tip would hit your cervix with a brutal amount of force. "I'll make you cum~" His hips began snapping into yours, that you actually tried getting away.

He gripped your hip with his right hand, penetrating you deeply with an increased new speed of pace. He would occasionally go slow, if he felt himself about to cum again, but then go faster once it went away so he could make you cum.

His hand smacked your ass, a snack that sent a jolt of electricity to your clenching cunt. "Cum~" Daichi demanded, and on que, you came all over his cock. Your eyes streamed slight tears, and you accidentally swallowed his cum because of the insane amount of pleasure.

Your orgasm was intense, his hips going slowly, but don't think he didn't notice you swallowed his cum. He stopped for a second, holding himself still deep inside of you. "Y/N-" You looked back at him. "-you swallowed my cum... didn't you?"

You nodded, hesitantly. "Y-yes..." You couldn't help it. The way he was bruising your g-spot, literally made you feel like you were in heaven.

Daichi smiled. "I thought I told you not to-" His smile wasn't very convincing at all. "Well then~" Daichi began snapping his hips into yours again, he pace relentless.

Your eyes snapped open. "Ba-" You couldn't get your words out, his cock demolishing your insides. You were full on crying now, the overstimulation ripping through your entire body.

"Shhhhh-" He moaned out. "-you can't even follow simple rules, Y/N." He groaned out, his tip bumping your cervix with every push and pull of his cock. You tried sitting up, doing anything to stop going because the overstimulation was too much.

However, he pushed your head into the mattress. "No, baby-" He said, with a hard thrust and then slow, deep, grinds of his hips. "-you was begging me for attention, and now you have it." He moaned out the last word, now reaching his limit.

But then, Daichi pulled out. You were relived... until he flipped you on your back and instantly, sunk himself deep inside you again. "Babe!!!" You moaned out, your back arching tremendously.

He was so deep in you, you could bet he was in your stomach. His cock was humping your g-spot hard, your hands went to his back pulling him down on top of you.

"Don't complain-" Daichi's thrust became even more violent, and deep. You were borderline screaming, but he loved it. His hand went to your clit, padding at it as your back arched. "-I love you so much, Y/N."

You couldn't even say it back. Your mind was blank, the only thing you felt was his warm body, and his massive cock probing your cervix. You were about to cum, but this time, it was coming more violently.

"Daichi! It's- it's too much!" He put his hand over your mouth, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You were being so loud, and you couldn't help it at all because of him.

You were cumming, and so was Daichi. His pace increased, and he wasn't even concerned with the pre-cum dripping out of his tip, that's destroying your cervix.

Your eyes were wide as hell. You were kind of afraid of the pleasure, Daichi's cock absolutely abusing your cervix. His eyes were even watering up, not really able to handle the tight squeeze of your plush and wet walls.

His free thumb went to your click, massaging it reluctantly and that was it. Your second orgasm almost murdering you, as you literally saw white light you were about to go towards.

Daichi came as well, his body jerking violently as his hips keep it's pace, until it slowed. He was moaning in your ear loudly, both your orgasms intense and probably the best you've ever had. "I love you... I love you so much, Y/N!" He moaned, the overstimulation a little too much for the both of you.

He removed his hand from your mouth. You stuttered, "I-I love you... too!" Daichi sat up, still buried inside of you, looking down at you while his hips still moved a bit. Your arms were on his triceps, both of your eyes closed tightly as he rid you of your overstimulated orgasms.

Once he washed over you both, he stopped and fell on top of you. The both of your eyes still closed, as you tried catching your breath. Your hands were on his back, having him as close to you as possible.

You could feel his cock softening inside of you, but he still didn't pull out. He sat up, and looked you in the eyes. "I love you, Y/N. So so much."

You smiled and leaned forward to peck him on the lips. "I love you too, Daichi." You both smiled at each other as you kissed again. But, Daichi sat up on the palm of his hands, looking in between both of your connected bodies.

You looked too, and your hands went to his chest as be began moving again. "Daichi!" You screamed moaned, but he grabbed your hands planting them to your sides.

"We're not done, Y/N-" His hips snapping into yours. "Not until you stop being the trouble you are, and knowing that I don't neglect you."

You came at least, twenty times that day. Honestly, you don't even remember, because he never stopped. Not until like six thirty, the next day. You couldn't handle it, and passed out a lot but he just thrusted you away.

-

-

-

Well then, that was a bit much! It was so detailed, what the hell is wrong with me?! Anyways, @dekuslilhousewife, I hope you liked this. I don't know, if it turned out how you wanted it to, but I do hope you like it! Request, anytime! (But not now..)

[inkykeiji]

Many sad thoughts running through my head but I can imagine Dabi having trust issues as you and the other anon saying. Him being afraid of getting left behind. I feel like he would say “I didn’t mean to say I love you” at some point because that’s a type of vulnerable he doesn’t want to be but it’s just one of many thoughts

AHHHHHHHH anon anon why must u hurt me like this?????? pls my whole heart just broke at this and i uhhhhh wrote 1.7k words about it,,,

❅ cw: soft dabi, angst, rly sappy ❅

It seems to happen at the most random of times. It isn’t like the movies, isn’t ever after some profound incident or momentous occurrence shared between the two of you—no, it’s always right after the most mundane things; after he catches you brushing your teeth in a cute matching set of panties and a tank top, sticking out your tongue at him, mouth full of foamy white toothpaste; after he finds you curled up on the couch buried under a fluffy blanket, nothing more than a lump and a head as your eyes rapidly scan the pages of the book in front of you, entirely absorbed in whatever world it’s built for you; after he walks into the kitchen to see you by the sink washing a few dishes, hips swaying and head nodding as you hum along to whatever song is blasting through your headphones.

But God, does it hit him like a motherfucking bus every single time, punches him in the stomach without warning, knocks the breath straight out of him.

He’s usually good at keeping it to himself, usually able to swallow it back down when those three little words begin to creep up his throat, dancing on the back of his tongue and restricting his breathing.

But eventually, he messes up.

You had started it, right after you had finished sprinkling the pizza stone with some flour while he was rolling out the dough, wiping your powdery fingers down his t-shirt, then swiping a thumb across his cheekbone, leaving a streak of white flour painted in its path, a little mischievous smile on your face and glint in your eyes.

He retaliates immediately, grabbing a pinch of flour from the bag and flicking it right in your face.

“Dabi!” you gasp, but your shoulders are shaking with silent laughter as you wipe at your face, fingers only managing to leave more strokes of the substance instead of clearing it. Your hand dives into the bag, grasping a handful of flour, inhaling deeply—enough to expand your entire chest—before blowing air out of your mouth, casting tiny, thick explosions of white at him, speckling his shirt and dusting his inky hair.

“Oh, you little brat,”

And, fuck, you look so goddamn beautiful, giggles ringing out around the room, flour strewn in your messy, tousled hair, smears of it across your cheeks and neck, sprinkled on your clothes, eyes bright and breathing laboured with exhilaration as you daintily leap away from him.

They’re bubbling up in his chest, those three stupid little words, climbing up, up, up his throat to settle on his tongue, light and sweet, floating in his mouth like candy floss and melting on his tongue only to be resurrected by another one of your giggles, or playful yelps, or squeals of his name.

And he’s too preoccupied to remember to swallow them down, to chew and chomp on them until he’s crushed them into a thousand tiny pieces as he chases you around the kitchen while you throw clouds of flour at each other, too enraptured by the soft, cute, precious sounds he’s endlessly pulling from you, too hellbent on hearing more, a man possessed.

Because he hasn’t laughed like this in ages, isn’t sure he’s ever laughed like this in his entire life, and they just slip out, when he finally catches you, chest heaving a bit from the thrill of it all as large hands curl around your shoulders.

“God, I love you,”

They’re muttered softly, just a huff of breath, really, blanketed by his laughs and yours, and you nearly miss them.

Nearly.

And then, everything stops. Your laughs abruptly cut off, and he wishes he’d have missed the sharp intake of breath you inhale through your mouth, lips parted slightly, wide eyes staring at him as your body freezes up, going rigid in his grasp, feet fused to the floor.

He stops, too, lets go of you so quickly you’d think your skin burnt his palms through the thin material of your shirt, sapphire eyes growing wide—wider than you’ve ever seen them before—as his mind catches up with his mouth, stumbling a few steps back from you.

He wants to say something, anything, but his voice is caught in his chest, fading into pathetic squeaks of breath any time he tries to force a few words out. And it aches, heart pounding almost painfully against his ribcage, breathing shallow—almost ceased completely—as he stares unblinking at you, sharp, tingling anxiety flooding his veins.

And you—well, you’re staring at him with this look in your eyes, something that he can’t decipher, and it makes his stomach lurch. It’s a look he’s never seen before, your eyes shining as you gaze at him, almost glittering as you stare at him, unmoving, unbreathing, unexplainable. Are you upset? Angry? Disgusted? Stunned? A combination of all four? None at all?

The fact that he can’t tell, that he doesn’t know, when he prides himself on being able to read others so insanely well, ignites flames of anger that alight his entire body, right to the tips of his fingers and his toes, blazing straight through the anxiety and simmering in his chest, eyes hardening as they glare back at you.

A beat passes, your ears ringing from the thick, tense silence draped over the room, and then he’s pushing past you roughly with a choked snarl that sounds a little like a mix between a sob and a growl, and storming out of the kitchen.

He’s cut off all communication entirely, has been ignoring you for a few days now, only leaving his bedroom out of absolute necessity and refusing to answer any of your countless texts that have been collecting on his lockscreen, refusing to even touch his phone. He doesn’t want to see what you have to say, desperately tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care, that he isn’t scared of what your messages might reveal, isn’t terrified of that impending rejection he’s so sure is lurking on the horizon.

But there’s only so long he can keep avoiding you before you finally catch him in the kitchen, just past three in the morning, fixing himself a late-night snack.

“Oh, thank God,”

He whirls around at the sound of your voice, cobalt eyes gaping for a moment before narrowing into sharp slits an instant later.

“Dabi, listen—”

“No,” he growls, eyes flashing. “You listen, I don’t want to fucking talk about it, alright?”

Leaping in front of him, you block his path, prohibiting him from leaving the kitchen and speaking quickly. “Yeah? Well I do!”

“I don’t care,” he spits viciously, the ache throbbing deep in his chest—at the very core of his body—reminding him otherwise. “There’s nothing to talk about, anyway! It’s not like I meant them,”

And that—that gets you to stop, tripping a little over your own feet as you stumble back like he’s physically slapped you, a soft, hurt little whimper getting caught in the back of your throat as tears rapidly pool in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“Wh-What?”

He glares down at you, molars grinding together as his nose twitches.

I didn’t mean to say I love you.

What a pathetic fucking sentence—it’s almost laughable, the corners of his lips quirking up in a sardonic little grin. Your breath hitches, and his shoulders tense at the sound.

‘You aren’t supposed to know I love you’ is much more accurate, his mind sneers at him. Coward. Fucking coward.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says, though his voice is beginning to quiver, trembling hands curling into tight fists in an effort to stop it, short nails biting into the flesh of his palm as the skin stretched taut over his knuckles turns bone white.

“Didn’t mean what?” you whisper, glistening tears finally spilling over and streaming down your cheeks, leaving gleaming trails of salt water behind them. “Say it, Dabi,”

He’s got his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head, knows if he opens them, if he looks at you, that he’ll break, shatter into a thousand pieces, split himself open at the very core of his body and bare his entire soul to you.

“Look at me,” you demand softly.

His jaw flexes once, slowly exhaling out his nose.

“Dabi, look at me,” a pause. “Please?”

“No.”

“W-Why?” the word escapes your lips in a little whine, broken up by your sniffles.

You know why.

But it’s those little half-sobs, the ones that keep catching painfully in your chest, that do it, interspersed with your soft whimpers as you plead with him—please, open your eyes, just look at me for a second, please!

Unable to stand it any longer, his lids finally rise, slowly revealing sparkling sapphire, glowering at you, his harsh gaze protected by a thin shield of water.

He hates this, hates not having control over his own fucking body, over his own fucking thoughts, hates the unfamiliarity of it all, of the unpleasant fluttering in his stomach and burning in his throat, swallowing thickly past the hard lump that’s formed, constricting his breathing.

Revolting, his inner voice snarls at him. You’re weak, letting some stupid little girl get to you like this, as if you even—

Your touch silences the voice, cutting it off midsentence, his whole body flinching at the soft, small hand resting so tenderly against the curve of his face, subconsciously nuzzling his cheek into your palm a second later, eyes slipping shut again.

“Dabi,” you begin, and something has changed. You no longer sound hurt, no longer sound wounded, your voice gentle and—

No. No, no, no, this can’t be happening to him right now. Panic grips his heart, puncturing it with its claws, sending blistering, sharp pain searing through his chest and slicing him open, raw and vulnerable.

“Please, don’t,” he whispers, words tumbling from his lips without his permission, voice frail, fragile, broken.

Don’t. He doesn’t want to hear them, doesn’t need to hear them, can’t bear to hear them—not if they’re false, fake, uttered out of misplaced pity and sympathy.

“I love you, too,”

A pathetic hiccup gets caught in his throat and he chokes on it, chest stuttering as he shakes his head, lids clenching tightly against the unfamiliar sting of tears, lips pressed together firmly to stifle the tiny distressed sounds that keep crawling up his throat, trying to escape.

There’s no way, she’s lying, how could she ever—

“Yes,” you whisper, thumb caressing his jaw. “I love you, too,”

[tootiredmotel]

For @one-more-offbeat-anthem 's 1k follower celebration. The prompt was "sickfics" and I've never written a sickfic in my life so, naturally, I adapted a scene from one of my comfort movies (Fever Pitch, 2005). HUGE congrats on your milestone love!!!

read on ao3 or below (1.5k words)

Castiel should've known better than to listen to his brother regarding food. They have wildly different palates, and why he agreed to accompany Gabriel to lunch at some newly-opened new-age restaurant with barely any reviews, he'll never know. He wasn't thinking.

He could think even less that night, hunched over the toilet with food poisoning while his date knocked on his apartment door.

As soon as he could, Castiel scrambled to his feet and wobbled over to open it, his over-excitable golden retriever on his heels. Dean stood there in a nice leather jacket, all dapper and first-date-ready with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, and it broke Castiel's heart to have to tell him:

"I'm sick."

He was sure it was evident in his eyes, death breath, hair sticking out in all directions from holding his head above the toilet, but he said it anyway.

"I'm really sick, I'm sorry. Come back tomorrow."

Castiel went to close the door, but Dean took a cautious step, bouquet forgotten at his side. "Sick how? You in pain? Do you need anything?"

"I just-" Castiel swallowed forcefully. "I ate at this new restaurant and-"

Just thinking about it made him run to the bathroom again, and he almost didn't make it on time. He barely registered Dean, still at the doorway, say something about Castiel (Cas, he called him) not needing to fake it if he didn't want to go out with him. A few seconds later, the door closed, and Castiel (still puking) thought that was that. He blew it with the handsome schoolteacher, all thanks to his brother's awful culinary taste.

His dog's wasn't so far behind. "Honey, please don't eat that," he reprimanded her, failing to shoo her out of the bathroom.

When he felt he was done, for the time being at least, he tried to stand. He was weak, and for a second he thought he might split his head open on the toilet seat, but then Dean was there, hands on his waist, helping him up. "I got you," said Dean, over and over again, and Castiel believed him.

Dean helped him to his bed where he tried to sit him down, but Castiel must've been weaker than he thought. He flopped backward, and then Dean cautiously lifted his head and placed a pillow underneath.

"Thank you."

"Got some more comfortable clothes? Something to sleep in?"

It's then Cas remembered he was already dressed for the date, slacks and a white button-up (probably grossly stained, he hated to think), and pointed Dean to a drawer.

A second later Dean was gently hoisting him back to his feet, strong hands at his sides, saying "Here, I'll help you change. Promise I won't look. Too much, I won't look too much."

And that actually made Castiel chuckle.

Dean unbuckled and took off his slacks first, replacing them with sweatpants. It was a slow, quiet process, and Dean only spoke up after he'd taken off Castiel's tie and shirt. "Alright, I gotta be honest, I'm looking. Sorry, Cas."

Cas couldn't help another chuckle. Dean was incredibly respectful through it all, careful not to touch any skin unless he had to, which was mostly to keep Cas from falling over. He slipped a t-shirt onto him and laid Cas back down on the bed, this time with his head where it was supposed to be. That's when things started to blur, when his head hit the pillow.

"I don't think there's anything left in there, but just in case..."

Cas, through hazy vision, noticed Dean putting his empty hamper next to the bed. He thanked him, repeatedly. Cas isn't sure how many times he said it, over and over again, thank you.

"Hey, no, you just get some rest," was the last thing Cas heard Dean say before he was out like a light.

Cas suspects he briefly regained consciousness three times during that night.

The first time, he's sure of. He felt a hand on his shoulder, slowly coaxing him awake. "Here," Dean said softly, placing a bottle of Gatorade with a straw in it on the nightstand. "Drink this if you can, alright? Get your strength back." Cas nodded and fell back asleep.

The second time was more questionable, and he only knows it was real because he saw the results of it in the morning. He slowly awoke on his own and saw Dean in his bathroom across from his bedroom door, wearing rubber gloves and scrubbing away at the toilet with a sponge. Cas tried to stop him, tell him no, please, you don't have to do that, really, but couldn't help sleep drag him back down before he could get the words out.

The third time is the most unbelievable. Borderline fantastical. If it was real, he might just have to marry this guy.

Cas thinks he saw Dean brushing Honey's teeth.

Out of everything that happened the night before, that is all he can think about as he steps out of the shower in the morning. He plans to call Dean, send a fruit basket to his school, invite him on the best date of his life to repay him for all he did, and ask him. It's going to sound ridiculous, did you brush my dog's teeth or did I hallucinate that, and Dean will probably turn down his invite. If not for the hell he went through that night, then for Cas being insane.

And then Cas finds Dean asleep on his couch, Honey snuggled into his side. And yeah, he's probably going to marry this guy. This schoolteacher who happened to pick him and his office as a field trip destination for his math kids. This adorable guy that came back later that same day, thanked him for getting through to the kids (which Cas didn't think he had, but he digresses), and then asked him out. This unbelievably sweet guy that Cas initially rejected, god knows why, but then called at his school and left a message for, Saturday at seven, here's my address, because he couldn't get him off his mind. This caring, thoughtful, heaven-sent guy who showed up with flowers, now in a vase on his dining table, found Cas with food poisoning and proceeded to take care of him, his dog, and his apartment the rest of the night.

Before Cas can think about marrying him again (which he was going to, the hopeless romantic), Honey startles and jumps off the couch, waking Dean. Cas doesn't move, just watches as Dean sits up, notices him, then sits up straighter.

"Hey! Hey, how you feeling?" Dean asks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hand. He put products in his hair for the date, Cas notices, because it's now stiffly and adorably messed up.

"Much better. I won't be entering any pie-eating contests any time soon, though."

"Too bad. That was my next date idea."

Cas smiles, the words next date making his heart flutter in his ribcage. His question pops back into his mind.

"Did you, um..." Don't ask about the dog, he'll think you're crazy. He decides to go with "Did you clean my bathroom last night?" even though he knows the answer.

"Me? No."

Well. Cas thought he knew the answer. Probably dreamed it too. But then who-

"The vomit elves came in," Dean continues. "Real cute. Little hats, miniature vomit bags, adorable. Efficient too."

Cas is stuck somewhere between smiling so wide his cheeks hurt, and shaking his head while rolling his eyes. "Did the elves brush Honey's teeth too?"

"Oh no, that one was me."

And that has Cas laughing in earnest. At the sound of her name, Honey came bouncing back, settling next to Dean on the couch.

"Not letting the little bastards take credit for that one. This sweetheart loves me, and I earned that myself," Dean says, scratching Honey between her ears, enraptured.

"Dean, thank you." At that, Dean looks up. "Thank you. You could've just left, but you chose to stay. And you went above and beyond. Thank you."

Dean looks away and stands, trying to play it off with a wave of his hand. "Nah, it was nothing."

"It was everything," Cas says stepping forward, placing a beckoning hand on Dean's shoulder. Dean finally looks at him with a barely-there smile and a gaze that wants to escape, but he fights for it to stay on Castiel's face. Cas is glad he does, because he needs Dean to see, understand, how grateful he is.

"I uh... I got you these." Dean reaches for a paper bag on the coffee table, and that's when Cas takes his hand off his shoulder. "Some movies."

"Such as?"

"Mostly anime porn," Dean says, and Cas is doing it again, the chuckling/eye roll/head shake combo. "And some stuff I like to watch when I'm not doing great."

"Well, for me that would be documentaries."

"Wait." Dean blinks. "What? What did you say?"

"Documentaries. Preferably environmental, or perhaps historical in nature."

"No way, you're not gonna believe this," Dean says, a bit too much surprise on his face. "This is insane dude, check this out..."

He reaches into the bag, and Cas half believes he's about to pull out a copy of Disney's Earth. He's delighted to be wrong.

"Roadhouse."

Cas laughs again, and the beaming smile on Dean's face is what convinces him. He is definitely going to marry this guy.

[ibuki-loves-you]

hey !! i rlly liked your drv3 boys with a s/o who acts like mikan, i was wondering if you could do that with the trigger happy havoc boys ? tysm have a good day <3

Trigger Happy Havoc boys with an S/O who acts like Mikan

Warnings: Mikan's personality/actions

Mod Ibuki: The support I got on the DRV3 with an S/O who is Mikan reincarnated is insane. I have a few more asks with this specific theme. Just, thank you. Thank you so so much! I'm so excited to write them.

You have a good day too, nonnie!

Makoto:

Makoto is so caring

He always tried his best to make sure you were happy

If someone ever insulted or made fun of you, he'd be pretty angry

Specifically Junko, she likes to bug you

"S/O~ Can you show me what a cat looks like?" "A-Alright..." "No! S/O, please don't do that!"

He wants to be around you often

Just to make sure no one is bothering you

And that you haven't fell

Speaking of falling

If you took a fall in front of him he'd be incredibly flustered but quick to help you nonetheless

If it was a...difficult position, he'd cover you as soon as possible with the brightest blush on his face

"I-I'm sorryyyyy!" "Don't apologize, S/O. It was an accident! Accidents happen!"

If you ever thought he was mad at you he'd feel so horrible, even if he did nothing wrong

"I-I'm so s-sorry, M-Makoto! I'll repay y-you! Sh-should I take my clothes o-off?" "S/O, no no no! You did not make me mad at all! And even if you did you would not have to repay me! Never! Also, don't offer to take your clothes off for me when you genuinely don't want to. You should only show your body to those you want, when you want."

Very supportive boyfriend

Mondo:

Your personalities clash but somehow you got together?

He's loud and doesn't give a single fuck about pissing anyone off and you are, well, the opposite

To say he's protective would be an understatement

No one, and I mean no one, could or would fuck with you

The one time Byakuya told you to speak up, Mondo flipped

"Oh for Christ's sake. Will you speak up? No one can understand you when you're mumbling incoherent nonsense." "The fuck you just say to my S/O you pompous piece of shit!?!"

Then he proceeded to break Byakuya's glasses and give him an almost broken nose

Yeah, no one bothered you

If you took a fall in front of him, he will either catch you or help you as soon as you hit the floor

If you fall in a suggestive position, he'd cover you AS SOON AS A VIEW IS GIVEN

No one, and I mean NO ONE, is catching a peak at you trust me

And if someone laughs, oh boy

They have an angry and very violent biker to deal with

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd immediately think it was his fault because of his anger problems

"I-I'm s-sorry! D-Do you w-want me to t-take my clothes off?" "Shit, baby no. Don't be sorry, you did nothin' wrong. I promise, I'm not mad at all. Don't offer to take your clothes off for me unless you want to, not because you wanna please me. That's not how I want this relationship to be, and I doubt you disagree."

Mondo cares so much about you and just wants to protect you through thick and thin <3

Yasuhiro:

Yasuhiro thinks you're adorable

Like you could do no wrong in his eyes

He wants to hug you 24/7

Don't think he won't either

If anyone tried to be mean to you, he'd be so confused and upset

"Why would you say that? They did nothing wrong, so why would you say something so rude for no reason? Uncalled for, man."

If you ever took a fall in front of him, he'd be so late

Like you'd be on the floor and he wouldn't notice until you whimpered or something along those lines

"S/O! How'd you get down there? C'mon, I'll help you, don't worry!"

If you fell in a suggestive position, he'd still be so late to responding

But when he does he blushes so much

"W-Why didn't I save myself the trouble and predict this?"

But nonetheless he is quick to pull you to his chest and hide you from the views of anyone else who may have been around

If you ever offered to take your clothes off just to please him, he'd be a little upset

"S/O, I don't want you to do that just because you wanna make me happy. That doesn't make me happy, especially because it doesn't make you happy. Please don't do that. You're body is too beautiful to be shown just for the sake of satisfying someone."

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd be confused as to if he did something or not

"H-Hiro! I-I didn't m-mean to m-make you m-mad at me! I-I'm s-sorry!" "Hey, look at me S/O. Do I look mad? I don't think I do. I'm not mad at all! Don't apologize for something you didn't do, alright? I love you! Wanna do a reading with me? Maybe it'll cheer you up."

Overall, Yasuhiro's a slow but loving partner. He won't let you down. Except when you fall. Then he does.

Leon:

Another protective one!

Leon is so so so protective

You are his baby, no one is gonna fuck with you

Or else he'll take his bat to their knees

But say an unlucky fellow does try to do such a thing

They're going to be limping around for a bit

"Hey, S/O! A little birdie told me you wouldn't mind giving others a little show. Mind doing so?" "O-Oka-" "No. S/O, don't. As for you, you asshole, I suggest you walk away before I knock your fucking teeth down your throat."

He never stops telling you about how you should only show your body to those you want to show

He hates that you'd offer just to make someone happy

"Baby, don't do that. It's gonna make you upset in the long run. You're body is way to beautiful and perfect to be shown to others freely. Only show it to people you want to show. Promise me you'll do that?"

If you ever took a fall in front of him, he'd help you up as soon as he sees. Which is pretty quick

He'd immediately grab your hands and tell you that it's okay

If you fell in a suggestive position, he'd be as red as his hair, but he'd still race to cover you up and make sure you're okay

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd be angry with himself for making you think that

"A-Ah! I-I'm s-sorry I-I made y-you angry! I-" "You know I hate interrupting you, but I just want you to know you don't have to apologize. You did nothing wrong! Not a thing! I don't want you to think for a second you made me mad because you didn't. I don't think I can get mad at you, if we're being completely honest."

Leon wants you to know that you are absolutely beautiful and no matter what you will always have him by your side

Chihiro:

Chihiro is shy too, so he completely understands

He's seen first-hand what shy people go through, so he gets pretty worried when it comes to you

If anyone ever tried to mess with you, he'd step in immediately, even if it ended up with him getting picked on. As long as it wasn't on you

"S/O, stop pissing me off, will you? You're really getting on my nerves." "S/O didn't do anything to you. I d-don't even think they know you. S-So please leave them alone."

If you ever took a fall in front of him, he would try to catch you but end up falling with you

As embarrassed as you two were, you still found it a little funny

If you fell in a suggestive position, he'd be beat red but would cover you up as soon as possible

If you ever offered to take your clothes off for him, he'd be so upset

"N-No, S/O! You don't have to do that! I d-don't want you to offer to do that just because you want to please me. I w-want you for your personality! Your body isn't what I fell in love with!"

If you ever thought he was mad at you, he'd cry on the spot

"I-I'm so so s-sorry, Chihiro! I'll do w-whatever I can t-to make it up to y-you!" "S-S/O, y-you don't have to! Please, I promise I'm not m-mad! See? I'm not m-mad. Please don't ever think I-I am. I love you t-too much to get mad at you."

This boy loves you so much and just wants you to be as happy as possible

Kiyotaka:

Taka tries his absolute best to stop your people-pleasing ways

He believes it will hurt you in the long run, and he is right

Most things you do often result in you being extremely uncomfortable and sad

Taka doesn't want to see that! Taka wants to see you happy!

If someone ever insulted you, Atua help them

They will get detention for eternity

"Hey! S/O! You're really getting on my nerves!" "Ahh! I-I'm sorry! W-What should I do to repay y-you?" "S/O, that isn't necessary! You owe them nothing! If anything, they owe you an apology! So, apologize, right now! And you have detention for the month!"

Yeah, no one bothered you after that because no one wants detention

If you took a fall in front of him, Taka is probably the quickest to react

If he doesn't catch you, he is once again quick and immediately picks you back up

And if it's suggestive position you end up in, he will be redder than his eyes but still help as soon as possible

Taka might be the one that hates the fact you offer to show your body as compensation for potentially making someone angry the most

"S/O! Please don't do that! It is wrong for you to expose yourself like that just to please someone! You don't need to please anyone but yourself! So don't offer to show yourself unless you are positive that you want to!"

If you ever thought Taka was mad at you, he might cry

His voice would go down, a lot

"...I'm not mad...I promise. I would never get mad at you. I need you to know that. Please, don't offer to please me or repay me in some way. It...makes me sad. I love you."

Overall, Taka will always keep you safe. No matter what.

Byakuya:

Byakuya probably got annoyed with you at first

But as time progressed he slowly grew more attached

A protective instinct he never knew he had kicked into full gear

If someone Toko ever made fun of you, oh boy

He'd blast

"H-Hey, whore! I think y-you should r-really d-dress a little nic-" "I'm going to stop you right there. Don't utter another word. Someone as pathetic as yourself shouldn't bother insulting others. Maybe work on your own image before you try to 'correct' others."

If you ever fell in front of him, he'd probably scoff and offer his hand

He'd never admit it, but he worries every time you take a fall. So he always makes sure to ask if you're okay

If you fell in a suggestive position, he loses his composure for a moment and goes bright red

Once he snaps out of his little daze, he quickly takes your hands and pulls you to your feet

He covers you up immediately after you stand

One time, Toko was getting on Byakuya's nerves again and it was obvious he was over her bullshit

Because of this, you offered to take your clothes off to please him

To say he was upset would be an understatement

"How do you suggest such a thing so casually? Just because I'm in a foul mood does not mean I want you to remove your clothes just for my own personal pleasure. That's ridiculous. Don't offer yourself to me unless you want to. Put yourself before others."

If you ever thought he was mad at you, oh boy

For once, he'd completely lose his shit

"What on Earth made you think I was mad at you!? I don't understand, I just- no." Byakuya paused to take a breather. "No, I'm not mad. Not one bit. Just...just no. I know I don't say it much but I truly love you too much to be angry with you. I swear, I am not mad at you."

Togami doesn't mean to sound harsh, but he does get worried about you and your safety

He loves you too much to let anything happen to you