#THEN the problem was that I couldn't have him cut through the metal with a knife because that would just look silly

[thelastunison]

No longer yours to control

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

LISTEN. HEAR ME OUT. eddie and Best friend!reader petty arguing, right, so reader says 'ooh you wanna kiss me soooo bad' and he does.

Hear ME OUT!!

What about we sprinkle in some jealous!Eddie too give it the ol'razzle dazzle.

Jealous! Eddie Munson x Bestfriend!reader

Warnings: fluff, some cursing, kissing that's about it.

Not proofread ignore mistakes.

Eddie has been in a pissy mood all damn week. He was short with you. He was snappy and just passive all around. The bottom line is that he was being a real asshole to you. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what made him this way. You chalked it up to him, barely getting any sleep. Maybe he cut back on smoking and is dealing with those withdrawals.

Doesn't matter at this point he was a dick and taking it out on you specifically. Ever since you went out on that date with his friend, Eddie has been insufferable. Little did you know that's the exact reason he's been moody with you.

He was jealous. You were his, and he had to watch his friend pick you up for a date. He sat in his room thinking about his friend kissing you. His friend holding your hand, and God knows what else you two did on your date together.

But you've had about enough of his attitude. You were sitting on his bed flipping through his heavy metal magazine while he tuned up his guitar.

"Hey, eddie, can you turn on the tv?" You looked before turning another page. You weren't even reading the comic. You were more interested in the artwork than anything the plot.

"Turn it on your damn self." He already sounded aggravated with you. "And stop turning those damn pages like that you'll rip them."

He rolled his eyes and turned his chair to face more away from you.

You huffed immediately, getting fed with him now." Alright, what hell is your problem?"

You slammed down his magazine, crossing your arms over your chest. You felt your face heating from the anger rising inside of you. You've dealt with his mood swings before, but that's because they were never directly pointed at you. Not until recently.

"I don't have a problem." He shrugged, still refusing to face you.

"Oh yes, you do. You've been a complete douche all week."

He smirked and finally turned around. "I've been a douche? Me? Maybe I wouldn't be such a douche if you weren't so fucking annoying."

"I'm not annoying!" You defended yourself, raising your voice slightly.

"Oh, but yes, you are. All you do is yap all day long, and I gotta listen to it." Eddie, let out a condescending laugh after you argued back with him.

You squinted your eyes, "Yeah, well, at least I'm not walking around with a stick up my ass."

You could hear him growl something under his breath. His lips were pressed in a tight line.

"You're right. I do have a stick up my ass. How about you get your ass up and turn on the TV because my ass is currently busy with a stick rammed up it." His voice was dripping with sarcasm while bickering back and forth with you.

You rolled your eyes and got up off his bed to turn on the TV. You messed with the volume until it was as high as it could go. You were purposely trying to press his buttons. You wanted a reaction out of him. You wanted that last word, and you were going to get it. He couldn't hear himself think or focus on what he was currently doing.

Eddie jumps up from his chair and turns down the TV. You just stay standing there, twisting the nob to it turn back up. You're both staring each other down in the process.

"You're bein- he went to speak, but you raised the volume up again, cutting him off.

Eddie let a deep breath and turned the tv back down once more. His face is all red, and sets his guitar back against his dresser. "You're being reeeeeally petty right now. I'm trying to tune up my guitar."

"Yeah?...so?" You slowly turn the TV up again with your eyes locked onto his.

His jaw tightens, and his nostrils flare. You decided to mess with him. You wanted to rile him up some more. He rubbed his hands down his face.

You watched him closely, and a little idea sparked in your head. You don't know what really came over you. Probably, his attitude with you has finally made you lose your mind or something.

"Ooh, you wanna kiss me sooo bad right now, huh?" You taunted him.

There was always this unspoken crush between the two of you that was mutual. You were being mean, and you didn't care. You were past your limit right now. You wanted to get under his skin, and it was working.

He doesn't say anything he just looks at you. He steps closer, leaving very little room between the two of you. Without any warning, his lips came crashing down into yours. His hands go up to hold both sides of your face gently. His soft lips locked with yours as his tongue slipped past them.

The kiss was sloppy but passionate. He didn't care if your teeth clashed a little bit. He needed to do this. You felt light-headed while your tongues fought for dominance. Your face felt all tingly, and your hands moved up to grip onto his forearms. Only a few seconds have passed, but it felt like hours. Time stood still as you made out with your best friend in his bedroom.

He let go of your face and moved his lips slowly away from you. He had a smug expression on his face. Your eyes flutter back open, and you swallow. You're breathing heavy, and you don't know if it's from the kiss or from the fight you and Eddie were getting into. Or a combination of both.

"Why have you been so mean to me all week?" You whispered your fingers, move up to trace over your own lips. You could still feel traces of him on your mouth.

Eddie looked at you and with a sad smile. "I couldn't get over the fact that you went on date with my friend Cody."

Your eyebrows raised. "You-- You were jealous of Cody?" You were in disbelief. Here you thought he was just annoyed being around you.

You couldn't believe he would be so irritated over that date. It was one date, and you were miserable. Plus, it's not like you haven't seen him take home his fare share of women from the bar.

Those nights where he would be out with a made you feel sick to your stomach. But you never once took it out on him like this. You shake those thoughts and try to listen and understand where he is coming from. Right now, it's about him, not you. He was never good at expressing his feelings, and because of that, he was more prone to lashing out.

"Well, yeah, just the mere thought of him being so close to you really upset me. I know I've been a dick but I just couldn't help it." He plopped back down in his chair.

You moved to sit at the edge of his bed. Your legs felt like they were going to give out after kissing him.

"Why didn't you say something?" You sighed and picked at your chipped nail polish.

"I don't know.. I don't want to mess up what we have." He gestured between the two of you. His voice was a lot softer now than is has been all week.

You nodded and understood why he felt like he couldn't express his feelings. "Can you kiss me again?"

Eddie's eyes dart up, and he looks a little surprised. "Can i?"

You couldn't have actually wanted to kiss him again? He thought to himself. He was already feeling guilty for just happened. He felt his heart start to race again.

You smiled and nodded, "I wish you would have kissed me sooner."

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny's Grill Part 2

Special thanks to @mkarchin713 for letting me use their idea.

Tim's night had been hectic.

Not only have things at WE taken a turn for the worst due to some random influencer that decided Wayne Enterprises was the cause of global warming and convinced all his fans of the same- despite the fact they were the nation's leading company in green energy- sales have been down.

The board was breathing down his neck to fix the stocks while being no help at all to get the youth back on their side. He's already pulled twelve hours of overtime this week and it was only Wednesday.

He's been dealing with the PR nightmare while trying to get to the bottom of data theft across multiple big-name technology companies. Reports of scams and total funds lost were reported all through Gotham and only his city.

Tim suspects someone had been planting screen recording devices in one of Gotham's shipping factories before they left the buildings, stealing all the information from new buyers.

Since his theory is so hard to trace, he's been having difficulty pinpointing the base of operations, never mind having enough proof for his thesis. After Bruce's lost-in-time fiasco, Tim learns to have evidence before going to the family with anything.

So that means he's been trying to fight his way on his own, which usually isn't too much to handle, but stress and lack of sleep have really been slowing him down.

Thankfully, a specific food truck appears in his line of sight, and his mood improves drastically. He finds a safe roof to quickly change into his civilians, already fantasizing about what delicious food he would eat.

Dressed in his typical Alvin Draper disguise- black, almost second-skin tights and an oversized sweater- he all but skips to Danny's Grill.

"Night, Danny," He says, smiling at the back of the chef. He leans on the little extended table outside the truck's small window. He takes a sniff of the air, mouth watering at the scent.

Looks like tonight is cheeseburgers, as Danny carefully flips some patties. Danny whirls around with a smile of his own, only to drop the spatula in horror.

"Alvin! What happened!?" Danny shouts, nearly flinging himself through the tiny opening. The vigilante blinks in confusion before catching his reflection in the napkin dispenser.

In his haste to have some of Danny's food, he forgot to cover up a black eye, swollen right cheekbone, and busted lip from his last faulty lead. A goon had gotten him by surprise and had nearly rearranged his face before he was able to get his wits about him.

"Nothing, really; it comes with the job, you know?" Tim tries to play off, laughing nervously when Danny's expression crumbles into pure rage. "Look, it's no big deal-"

"How can it not be a big deal!? Half your face is swollen!"

That happens when someone hits you with a metal pipe in the face. He thinks hysterically. "I've had worse."

"That's not comforting!" Danny screams, throwing off his apron. "Let me close down, and I'll take you to a doctor-"

"No hospitals. They'll ask where I got this, and I can't answer that." Tim cuts in, voice hard. There is a tense moment where he thinks Danny will force him to go anyway, but after a moment the other man growls slamming his hands on the counter.

"Fine. Fine. No hospitals. At least let me ice it." It takes everything in Tim not to shrink back from the hateful tone. He barely has the mind to nod as Danny quickly unlocks the little door that leads into his truck, ushering the Bat inside with barely controlled rage.

He knows it's not aimed at him, but being around someone so upset makes his skin crawl. Tim has problems with offending people; his parents had been masters in drilling into him from a young age.

That's why Tim always sought the approval of everyone around him, even if he couldn't stand the person.

He has been working on it, but old habits died hard.

"Sorry." He mumbles as Danny quickly gets a zippy bag full of ice.

"Don't. Apologize." Danny bites before taking a large breath, clearly trying to calm down. He gently places the ice against Tim's cheek, staring at him with such tender worry Tim can't help but feel butterflies. "You don't have to apologize for getting roughed up. Never. Okay?"

Tim nods, shyly looking away as his stomach is rapidly overrun by even more butterflies. "Okay."

"Come home with me." Danny suddenly blurts as if the words were forced out of him. He looked just as surprised by them as Tim was.

"What?"

"Just for tonight. Just so I know you're safe." Danny all but pleas, and Tim- well, Tim has never been known to be strong enough to resist his impulses. Sure, the family might worry, but he can send them a message claiming to be undercover, and frankly- it's been so long since Tim's had a break.

He's always wanted to know more about Danny outside his food truck. He hadn't been able to find much on him. Tim is a detective by heart. He wants to know everything there is to know about Danny Fenton.

"I can leave when I want." He says, as Danny carefully places a warm hand on his other cheek. "And I sleep in my own space. No bed sharing. I also want to take a shower but I don't have anything to sleep in."

"You can borrow something of mine/ Whatever you need." The words are practically a warm hug, and Tim feels relaxed. Already the shitty week feels less terrible, and he finds himself growing bold enough to take an obvious sniff of the air.

"Can I have a burger?"

There is a hint of an amused smile, but it does not cover up the worry. "Of course you can."

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

The shower is running in Danny's house.

It's a bit out of the way, about a forty-minute drive outside of Gotham limits, but it's spacious and private, just the way Danny liked it.

Ever since he inherited his title, he's found this house on the list of properties, and that was why he chose to take Gotham by storm in his little truck.

Danny isn't really sure what the story of the property was- the suspects the place was built around the same time Gotham got its curse; seeing as it was overseeing the city and had enough natural ectoplasm in the air, he would suspect the curse affecting the town lead to here. He never cared to check.

No, rather Danny had some ghosts remodel the old building to include wiring and functioning plumbing but asked that the general overall of the mansion stay the same.

He sort of like pretending to be a Lord of the Oldden days. If anyone asked if he walked around acting out old romances of the Victorian era, that was not else business but his own.

Alvin was undoubtedly impressed when they pulled up to his house. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so prideful to have the handsome man be impressed with his mansion given the circumstances.

He seemed to accept the excuse of having been willed the house by his late grandfather. He just hoped Alvin didn't think him the same as his wealthy clients.

Speaking of, he better make the call before Alvin finished.

Stepping to his balcony, he pulled out his burner phone and pressed the speed dial five. There are four rings before the call connects.

He gets no greeting, but he's not expecting one. Danny looks over his shoulder to ensure the bathroom door is connected to the master room- his bedroom, where Alvin will be staying, seeing as it has a bigger fireplace. He needs to have them install a heating system. Danny never bothered, what with his ice core and all- before he spoke.

"Hey, Red Hood, it's Danny. I'm calling in that favor."

There is a long pause before the other man grunts. "What is it?"

"My friend is a pro whose pimp or johns have been abusing lately. Can you help me....take care of the issue? I don't want to overstep in his life, but I'm pretty sure they broke his check bone tonight, and he claimed to have had worse before." Danny sighs, his stomach overturning at what that could mean. He hasn't gone out as Ghost King to show those assholes a thing or two because this isn't his haunt.

It's Red Hood's.

Danny had met the other man when a rouge attack had busted up all the main highways he usually worked in and had no choice but to try to sell in Crime Alley. He was right off the territory's edge, freaking out about entering without the main ghost's permission, until Red Hood confronted him.

Danny's frantic fretting had been suspicious enough that the main honcho had gone to find out why he was so nervous.

They worked a deal where Danny would sell his ware in peace, and as long as he let kids eat for free, Red Hood had no quarrels with him. He even got a favor from the crime lord after Danny provided free meals to some of his men's families struggling to get food a few months back.

He also allowed Hood to use his house as a safe house to hide a few people who needed to be out of the city. Is he part of Red Hood's gang? No.

Is he an alley? Yes.

Danny had been saving the favor for such an occasion.

There is silence on Hood's side, so Danny goes in for the kill. "My friend is seventeen; in a few months, he'll be eighteen, but he said he has been doing this since he was younger."

The silence is now laced with malice. If there was one thing they both agreed on it was that kids were never meant to be hurt by the scum of the city. "Give me his name and the area he usually works in."

"Alvin Draper. He changes per night, but I've often seen him on the east side of Crime Alley."

"I'll look into it. Is Alvin safe?"

"Yeah, he's going to be staying with me tonight. Don't come by until I convince him to extend his stay." Danny knows Hood will understand. This is one of many pros to see the Zone- his mansion's name- as a sanctuary.

"That's fine. Can you get me a picture of Alvin?"

"No, he's too skimmish."

Hood grunts again, his voice coming out tired despite the voice monitor. "Kids always are. I'll have my boys find Alvin's primp and johns. Ensure there aren't any other younglings before they make them swim with the fish."

Danny almost falls over in relief. "Thank you. Alvin...Alvin means a lot to me."

" Don't mention it. Stay well, Victorian."

Victorian is the code name Hood has given him to ensure Danny isn't tired of his gang. Yes, it's because his house is a Victorian mansion, but Danny also likes to think it's cause the other man appreciates the aesthetics of his house a little too much.

He once caught Hood admiring his Pride and Prejudice hardcover book displayed in his green sitting room.

"You too Hood. And thank you."

How would he convince Alvin that his house was a better place to call home than the orphanage and street corners without coming off as a wannabe savior or hopelessly in love creep?

Danny pauses at his own train of thought.

Hopelessly in love? He thinks in shock as the bathroom door swings open, and out comes Alvin, dressed in Danny's extra pajama set. He offers Danny a shy smile; even with the injuries, it is the loveliest sight he's ever seen, and- oh no, Danny is in love with him.

"You up for a late-night snack?" He asks, trying to not show the world-shattering realization on his face, and Alvin's smile grows wider.

"You're going to make me fat." The other laughs. Danny's heart skips a beat.

Danny Fenton loves Alvin Draper and will do everything he can to protect him. Even if Alvin will hate him for it.

[oneforthemunny]

take as needed |bouncer!eddie munson x bartender!reader|

prompt: a hectic week at the hideout has you burnt out, fed up, and on the path of destruction. eddie is in your path, and tries to course correct.

contains: minors dni. smut. dom!eddie x sub!reader tones this time. soft!dom!eddie. emotional release spanking. masturbation male. angst, fighting, they're kinda mean to each other but ends in fluff. based off this blurb from a while ago.

"Behind you." Veronica held the beers over you, shimmying through the crowded back area towards her customers at the end of the bar.

It was way too busy for The Hideout- for Hawkins. College was out for the summertime, all the college kids that fled as fast as they could after graduation were dragged back for the summer. Most of them would rather be at some stuffy bar that with their families, and you couldn't blame them, so they found there way here. On a Friday night, slammed and the karaoke machine in full effect from nine til midnight. Thankfully, you got off at ten, only an hour of enduring the screeching off note wails of the drunken patrons.

"Great song choice, man. Super metal." You looked up to see Eddie, all black even in the summer heat, sliding behind the bar, fist bumping the drunk kid who'd belted Welcome to the Jungle complete with the filthy moans into the mic. It had made everyone laugh, hoot and yell out encouragements at him. Everyone but you, it just irritated you.

"Hey there, pretty girl." Eddie muttered, grabbing your waist while he slid past you. "When you get a chance, can you make me a drink, please?"

"I'm super busy right now, Ed." You huffed, fishing a pen out of your back pocket, setting it on the bar for the drunk sorority girl to sign.

"I know, baby," Eddie cooed, ringed hands rubbing down you arms gently. You knew the act was to soothe you, calm you down, but it did nothing to relax you, only pissing you off further. "Whenever you get a chance. 'm on my break. You need any help? Wha'dya need me to do? How can I help?"

"No." You grit, shoving the ice scoop into the clumped, melting ice with a rather hard shove. "Can you just get out from behind here? It's crowded enough, Ed. 'M boiling and you're in my way."

"Easy, ease up." Eddie frowned at you. "Just trying to see if you need any help."

"I'm fine." You slammed the glass down on the counter, Veronica's eyes cutting over towards you carefully. You'd been on edge all night, frustrated and annoyed from the moment you walked in, such a contrast to your usual very sweet and bubbly demeanor. The customers seemed to notice too, seeing as your tips were practically cut in half, even on a busy night.

You tilted the bottle up, not even bother to properly measure the amount of vodka you were dousing into the drink. Veronica raised her brows at Eddie, shaking her head gently. You pressed the lemonade tap before turning to him. "I'll make your drink if I have time."

"I got it." Veronica offered, pulling two glasses out. "What do you want, Ed-"

"-I can make it, Veronica." You sneered, jamming a straw in the drink and adding it to the tab. "Just gimme a goddam second."

"Hey," Eddie's eyes narrowed at you. "What's gotten into you? Take a fucking chill pill and relax."

"I am relaxed." You sneered, slamming the drink on the counter in front of the wide eyed girl. "You are pissing me off."

"Hey, the both of you," Ellen huffed from her place behind you. "Why don't you both go on your fifteen." She suggested. "Cool off, alright?"

Eddie didn't give you a chance to protest, wrapping his arm around your bicep lightly, dragging you back towards the kitchen. You grumbled the whole way, whining about your tips, scuffing your feet along the sticky tile, until Eddie pushed the back door open.

"...and fucking Veronica has been taking all the regulars tonight, and I get all these young fucks who don't tip. Fucking bitch, like, she knows that's not fair-"

"-What is your problem tonight?" Eddie frowned.

You blinked, a scoff leaving your lips. "Me? What's my problem? Are you- are you fucking serious?"

"Yeah. You're being mean tonight. What's going on?" Eddie's jaw clenched, teeth grinding together.

"Oh, fuck you, Eddie. I am not being fucking mean, you're such a-"

"Hey," His ringed hand caught your jaw easily, light but firm. "Enough of whatever you're pissed about, alright? You gotta get yourself together. You're being mean to everyone. Not a good look. Killing the vibe, babe."

Your lips pursed, shoving him off of you. "You're a fucking piece of shit, you know that?" You sneered, reaching for the handle of the door. "I'm killing the vibe- fuck you! I'll kill the vibe if I want to."

Eddie's hand smacked onto the door, shutting it before you opened it completely. "What has got you acting like this?" Eddie demanded. You shoved him again, reaching for the handle. "Hey, stop it. I'm being serious, alright? Did someone mess with you? You're supposed to tell me or Ellen. I'll take care of them you know I will. Won't let them mess with you. Just- Can you tell me what's going on with you. Why are you being so mean tonight?"

"You're so fucking annoying." You huffed. "Nothing it wrong with me. You're just pissing me off."

"Yeah? Well, you're pissin' me off, too." Eddie snapped. You faltered at his biting tone. "Pissing me off, and everybody else off with your horrible little attitude."

"I don't have an attitude." You mumbled.

Eddie scoffed. "Yeah fucking right. You've been awful all night, and honestly, I'm sick of it. So is everyone else, so you better stop it now. Alright?"

It was your turn to scoff, a heavy eye roll accompanied. "Yeah? Or what? Huh? What the fuck are you or anyone else gonna do huh? Send me home? Cut me? Please, be my fucking guest."

Eddie moved, pinning you to the door, hands on yours, closing around them firmly. "If you don't quit acting so bitchy and mean, then I'm gonna treat you mean. Give you a taste of your own medicine." Eddie growled, eyes pointed in a fiery glare that had your knees buckling.

"You got me? Keep this shitty little attitude up, and I'm gonna drag you to the back and give you an attitude adjustment. That what you want?"

Your heart jumped at the threat, tummy flipping and pooling with warmth. "Y-You're not going to-" Your voice shook, Eddie's challenging look cutting you off further.

"No? You sure? You really think I won't? Keep it up." Eddie snarled, letting your hands go. "I'm sure everyone would love to see you get put in your place after how awful you've been tonight."

You let out a shuddering breath, watching him reach for his reds, sifting through the pack, curls falling in front of his face. Eddie turned to you, cigarette around his lips. "What?" He asked, flicking the lighter. "You want one?"

Your nose scrunched, grabbing the door handle and yanking it open furiously. Eddie rolled his neck, inhaling deeply. It was going to be a long night.

Though your attitude subdued through most of the night, enough that at least you weren't so hateful outwardly, not slinging mean comments. Instead, you took to glaring, shooting daggers at Eddie. Thankfully, the bar died down enough for the two of you to go home in time, Ellen giving Eddie a wary look over your head while you wrote your time.

"Fuckin' asshole." You sneered, sifting through the wadded bills, flicking the cash into the drawer.

"What's wrong?" Ellen asked, passing the check to the group of girls across the bar.

"That jackass only tipped a dollar." You grit, tucking the singular bill into your bra. "Six beers and four shots, and he tips a dollar? What a piece of shit."

Ellen's lips pursed. "Well, maybe if you were nicer-"

"-I was nice." You snapped defensively.

Eddie's shoulders tensed at your tone, even from his place by the door he could hear it, much clearer now that the place had started to clear out.

Ellen's brow raised, looking at you then to Eddie. He could feel his face flush, mortified at your attitude. "You know what? It's died down, and you..." Ellen shook her head. "Veronica and I can close up tonight. You can go home early."

You scoffed, dumping the glasses into the tray. "I don't have a ride. I came with Eddie. It's fine, I'll start the-"

"-No, Ed!" Ellen waved him over. "You two go home early, alright? Last calls in an hour, it's dying down. We got it."

Eddie wanted to die, melt into the floor. He felt like he was in grade school again, getting in trouble because someone was talking to him, grouped in with the trouble when he was innocent.

You didn't argue, huffing when you split the tips in the jar, stomping away towards the back. "Ellen, hey, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with her tonight. I think she's just in a bad mood-"

"-That's an understatement, Munson." Ellen grumbled, eyes rolling. "Did you two fight or something on the way here?"

"No, we didn't-"

"-Because I'm glad you two are together. I think you're real cute, but if it's going to effect your work like this. I'll have to stop scheduling you two together." Ellen gave him a pointed look. "And that's really gonna be a pain in my ass."

Eddie swallowed, hands buzzing, twisting his rings nervously. "No, I get that. It won't- You don't need to do that. I'll get it under control. This was just a one time thing. She's just having a bad day."

Ellen held his gaze, a stern glare that had Eddie's heart picking up, cheeks burning with embarrassment. "I hope so. I'm choosing to believe you because I agree, that," Ellen waved towards the back where you were no doubt sulking. "Is out of character."

Eddie nodded, muttering a sigh filled apology. Ellen waved him off. "Hey just make sure you two are good on Tuesday, alright? We'll start fresh. Have a good weekend."

"You too. And you, Veronica, thank you." Eddie waved, pushing the swinging doors towards the back.

He found you next to the lockers, arms crossed and leaning against the wall, foot tapping in annoyance. "What took you so long?" You snapped.

Eddie flinched, blinking back at you in disbelief. "What?"

"I've been waiting. It took you forever." You huffed. "You usually run out of here and tonight, when I'm already in a bad mood, you take forever? Are you just trying to piss me off?"

"Are you?" Eddie snapped. Your eyes widened, face falling at his tone, furious, annoyed.

"What?" You swallowed.

Eddie shook his head at you, grabbing the lock on his locker, spinning the combination. "You're..." Eddie scoffed lightly.

"What? I'm what?" You clicked your tongue in annoyance.

"You're being a real asshole tonight." Eddie looked over his shoulder at you. "Embarrassing, acting like this. Getting sent home early? How are you not embarrassed?"

Heat filled your chest, heavy and suffocating, different that the bubbling rage from before. "I thought you'd be ready to crawl in a hole after Ellen sent you home." Eddie flung the metal door open, letting it hit the others with a loud clank! that had you flinching.

"Then you get me sent home too, and you've got the fucking audacity to be mean? To talk to me like that?" Eddie glared at you over his shoulder. Your frame shrunk, heart pounding in your ears. It was the most subdued you'd been all night.

"I-I didn't get you sent home-"

"-The fuck you didn't." Eddie scoffed, grabbing his keys, his wallet out of the locker, smacking it shut. "You wanna know what was taking to long? I was talking to Ellen. She was telling me if we can't keep our personal life out of work, we can't work together. I was trying to tell her that we didn't get into a fight, and she didn't believe me."

Eddie took a step towards you, time card in hand. "She couldn't believe you were just mean like that unprovoked." Eddie shoved the card in the clock. "So what? You mad at me? Is that what's going on?"

"No." You muttered, looking down at your beat up sneakers, covered with sticky stains from the night.

"So what then? Care to tell me what's wrong? I mean, shit, we're getting sent home now. Feel like you should let me in on what's goin' on." Eddie threw his hands up, keys rattling between his fingers.

"Nothing's wrong-" You sneered, barely registering the ringed hand that caught your chin. Fingers squeezing your cheek in a firm grasp, pulling your gaze to Eddie's.

His eyes lidded, nostrils flaring down at you. "You better watch it." Eddie gritted. "Keep this shit up, and I'll lock that door and fix that attitude in here."

Your tummy flipped, swallowing thickly around the lump in your throat. Agitation fizzled into arousal at the threat. You cursed yourself for feeling that way.

Eddie's eyes squinted, head tipping towards yours slightly. "That what you want?" He huffed, hand still firm on your cheeks. "You acted like this because you wanted me to be mean to you-"

"-No." You sneered, wiggling in his grasp, scared he could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. "That's not why."

"So tell me why." Eddie's hand loosened, eyes still pinning you with his gaze. "Tell me what's goin' on."

Your chest sunk with a heavy guilt. Burnt out from tireless hours of work, cranky from lack of sleep, annoyed that Ellen let Pat off for the week when the place had never been busier. All of it eating away at you throughout the week until you finally snapped.

"I just wanna go home." Your tone was softer than before, still teetering on huffy. "I don't want to be in this place for another second. I'm so sick of being here."

Eddie nodded, tongue sliding over his teeth. Keys clenched in his hand, he stayed silent. The car ride uncomfortable silent, neither of you speaking first, the hum of the radio the only refuge.

"You gonna tell me what's going on?" Eddie broke the silence after nearly an hour. The two of you had gotten back to his trailer, going your separate ways to cool down. He finished a cigarette on the steps, let you do whatever you needed to inside.

He found you by the sink, scrubbing your makeup off. Mascara and eyeliner smeared down your lids, normally, he'd laugh. Squeeze your sides and tell you how metal you looked, silly and playful until you were giggling with him.

Not tonight.

A part of you wished he would have. It would have made you feel better.

That gnawing feeling of uncomfortableness was eating you alive from the inside out. Had your chest feeling tight, skin crawling with irritation. It had only grown worse, now that you were left to reflect on the night- on how you acted.

Eddie moved into the mirror behind you, pulling his shirt off, tossing it in the hamper. You brought the wash cloth back to your face, cleaning the smeared makeup from under your eyes.

Eddie's shoulders slumped. "C'mon." He sighed, softer this time. "What's wrong, baby?" His hands slid over your arms, pressing a small kiss to your shoulder. "Tell me what's goin' on. I know something's wrong."

Your nose burned, pressing the warm washcloth to it. "I don't know." You muttered, opening the mirror, plucking the faded lilac case from the shelf.

"I just... I don't know." Your eyes rounded, locking with Eddie's through the mirror. "I just- I don't know how to describe it. I just feel off?"

Eddie nodded slowly, hands resting on your back gently. "Off, how?" Eddie hummed, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. You didn't fight him, melting into his embrace instead. "Tell me what's wrong, honey. I just want you to feel better."

Your head tilted back to his chest, his arms heavy over your frame. "Just off." You muttered. "I feel like I need to just get everything out. Hit the reset button because I'm just so- so, bleh."

Eddie's lips curled gently, swaying you lightly in his arms. "I just am, like, unsettled. I'm so tired from work, but then I get home and I can't sleep, and then people are so fuckin' rude-"

"-Who's rude to you?" Eddie pressed, frowning behind you.

"Just the kids." You roll your eyes, shoulders tensing. "Snotty college kids. They think they're better than you or something."

"So come get me when they do that." Eddie's chin hooked over your shoulder lightly. "I'll take care of them. Kick 'em out."

"Then we'd have nobody." You shook your head lightly. "It's just- I don't know. I just feel really off." You paused, craning your neck to look at Eddie. "I feel like I need to get it all out."

Eddie stilled. "You-You want me to help you with that?" He knew what you were asking. "You want me to... To spank you?" It wasn't the first time you'd done this, still his cheeks burned at the word.

Your sex life was far from vanilla, teetering on outright debaucherous at times. He was no stranger to being mean to you in the bedroom, just like you weren't to him. Still, when you'd asked him the first time, to give you emotional release in this way, it felt a little odd to him at times. To bring pain to you, even if you asked, when all he wanted to do was smother you with affection.

Still, he'd do anything for you. You knew that, he did too.

It was why he swayed so easily. Your eyes rounding, lashes batting so sweetly up at him. "It really would help me feel better." His heart skipped, a sweet tone he'd been longing for all night. "I really think it would help."

Eddie nodded, hands sliding down your arms again, squeezing your elbows gently. You picked the hairbrush off the counter, handing it to him, taking his free hand and guiding him to the bedroom.

He let you settle over his lap, wiggling until you felt comfortable, a pillow under your face. Eddie twirled the hair brush in his hand, fidgeting while you settled. It was still new. How hard did he hit in this scenario? Did he soothe you? Scold you? Say anything at all? When you were playing, it was easier. In a headspace that came naturally with the moment.

"Ok," You hummed, turning to look at him, cheek pressed to the pillow. "'m ready."

Eddie hesitated. "You- And you're gonna tell me, right? When you want me to stop?"

"Yes." You nodded gently. "Just don't stop until I'm crying."

Eddie's cock throbbed, a roller coaster like drop in his stomach at your words. "Baby, I'm serious-"

"-I am too." You frowned. "Eddie, I promise I will tell you if it's too much, but... just please? Until I'm crying then you can stop."

"O-Ok," Eddie's breath stuttered, hand smoothing over your pantie clad ass, cheeky cotton panties that had his brain trailing off. "I'm gonna, I'm starting."

You settled back into the pillow, Eddie's hand rubbing down your back soothingly. Your free hand snaked up, folding over the middle of your back, fingers wiggling at Eddie's. A sweet gesture that made his heart swell, interlocking his fingers with yours, pinning your hand gently to your back.

The hair brush's smooth wood pressed to your ass, tapping in a warning that had your hips clenching lightly. Eddie hesitated, bringing the hairbrush up, then lower, readjusting his aim, before letting it fall. A soft clap met with a tiny grunt from you.

"You can do harder than that, Ed." You muttered.

"Harder? Are you sure?" Eddie hoped you couldn't feel his heart beating. "I don't wanna hurt you when you're not feeling good, baby."

"You're not hurting me. You're helping me. I swear." You said softly, squeezing his hand gently, reassuringly. "You can do harder than that. I'll let you know if it's too much."

Eddie brought the hairbrush higher, sending it soaring down with a firm smack that had your breath hitching. He waited, your hips squirming in his lap.

"That was good. Just like that, Ed." You whispered, taking a deep breath in through the burn in your nose.

Two identical hits fell to each of your cheeks, a tiny squeak of a cry coming from you. Your grip tightening against his hand with every fall of the hairbrush. Eddie was more confident, fell into a rhythm that felt more comfortable.

Hips wiggling, tiny whimpers and cries coming from you, rotating from cheek to cheek, lower then higher. Eddie brought the hairbrush down, a flick in his wrist that was sharper, stinging against your skin.

A tiny hitch, a sniffle that sounded watery had his ears perking. Eddie paused, feeling the hitch in your chest. "Keep going." You gritted, a white knuckled grip around his hand. "Keep going, Ed. Please."

Eddie brought the hair brush down again, twice, sharp flicks that had you crying out- a real cry, broken and breathy. Unsure, Eddie shushed you sweetly, letting the hair brush fall onto your upturned ass again.

"Shh, it's alright. You're doin' good, sweetheart. Let it out." Eddie rasped, cracking the hairbrush down again. "Doin' good for me."

The next fall of the hairbrush had a cry breaking though your throat, tears springing in your waterline, threatening to fall. The bubble in your chest filling fuller and fuller, close to bursting with the building irritation on your ass.

"You're doin' good. I know you've got to be feeling better." Eddie soothed. "You still good? Need me to stop."

"No," You cried, shaking your head. "K-Keep going, Eddie, please, keep going. D-Do it fast. Fast ones."

Eddie let the hair bursh rain down in quick successions, all over your ass, sharp smacks that had you gritting your teeth in irritation, eyes clenching shut until finally, you felt a wave wash over you. Heavy with emotions, it crashed into you, body shaking in sobs.

Face pressed into the pillow, you cried into the soft cotton, rubbing your face against the pillow case to soothe yourself. Eddie slowed, stopping when your hand loosened in his, body slack and shaking with sobs.

Eddie held you, arms tight around you though it felt like it was more for him. Soft coos and whispers, a hand rubbing down your spine. He hoped you couldn't feel his erection pressing into you. He felt torn, arousal he couldn't help but felt wrong when you were crying. Sobs so deep, stuttering in your chest and rocking your frame.

He hadn't realized how exhausted you were, a pang of guilt ringing through his chest when you started to slump in his arms. Usually, he'd get you calmed down, finish off the night between your legs, to make you feel better or maybe him.

Tonight, he let you settling into the mattress, rolling you onto your side, tucking the pillow under your knees, how you always slept. He wasn't sure how it was comfortable, teased you about it the first time he saw it. "It helps with my back, I swear." You had giggled, hiking a leg up over the pillow and settling into the mattress. Eddie didn't care how you slept, honestly, if it meant you'd sleep next to him.

Settling you under the blankets, Eddie carried the hair brush back into the bathroom, setting it back on the vanity's counter. He pulled the Jergens off the shelf, hand wrapping around his length, relieving himself. Tomorrow, he'd take care of you, spend the day in bed with you if you wanted, hopeful but certain that you'd be better in the morning.

[luveline]

grumpy!joel and sunshine!reader? like he is very gruff and short with people until his girl comes around and tess is like wow are you soft now?

tysm for ur request! disclaimer: I am not an expert in tlou I just think Joel is very fit and also scary ♥︎ tess and joel are roommates here (and also no hate on tess at all I tried to make her a realist rather than a pessimist but she may sound a little jaded) idk lol pls enjoy! fem!reader 

Joel's asleep when you come around. Tess is stirring her drink, small spoon bouncing against the sides of her mug with a metallic tap-tap-tap as your familiar knock raps the door. She doesn't bother yelling, just opens the door to let you in. 

"Hello," you say, though you wince when you spot Joel dozing on the couch. You drop your voice to a whisper. "Nice shiner, Tess." 

"Thanks." She steps aside to give you free reign, rolling her eyes when you toe off your shoes. 

You're not right in the head, in Tess' opinion. You're too soft for this life, and your continued survival feels like luck and nothing more. You know how she feels about you, and you know what she thinks: that to be vulnerable is to kill yourself. You don't feel the same. 

Joel's flat on his back. You push him against the cushions of the couch to make room, perching at his hip with a small sigh. He couldn't have been with Tess when she got hurt, his face clean of contusions. No speckled bruising, no scabbing cuts. 

You place your hand over the solid plane of his stomach and lean forward just a touch. You could kiss him. 

"Joel," you murmur, hand sliding to his waist. His jeans are rough under your palm. "Wake up. I have good news." 

He never wakes gently. His eyes scrunch, his lips tug down into a scowl. When he sees you, it takes a good long second for his agitation to fade into a more neutral expression. 

"Hey," you say, smiling. 

He doesn't smile back. "Where have you been?" he asks succinctly, voice rough with the lingering dregs of sleep. 

"Why should I tell you?"

He almost pushes you off of the couch as he sits up and swings his legs to the side. His shoes touch the floor, and of course he sleeps with his shoes on, he's ready for everything.

"Don't play games." 

You hum in delight at his dark tone and stand up before he can grab you, shivering at the feeling of his fingertips scratching your thighs. You backtrack through the room for your bag thrown haphazardly by the door. You pick it up, excited and scared at once, and scrabble to procure your promised 'good news'. 

"I wasn't far." 

"Your definition of far isn't one I trust," he says. 

"She's a big girl, Joel," Tess says, sipping her drink. She winces at the taste but isn't deterred. "She can take care of herself." 

And if you can't, who cares? You shouldn't be anybody else's problem, and to your credit you aren't. You take care of yourself. You take care of Joel, too, whenever you can, which is why you've brought him the book you found. 

"Here, handsome," you say, holding it out with little ceremony. 

Joel stands up to take it. He stares at the cover in silence. 

"It's a shame they can't include a snippet on every page," you lament. "Like when they used to put perfume samples straight on the paper. I don't know what half of those songs sound like. Which is weird, right? The biggest Billboard hits and I can't remember them." 

"And this is for…" 

"Your codes. Your radio codes?" Your beaming smile starts to shutter. Maybe it isn't useful after all.

Joel knows better than to ask what you want for it. You never ask for anything, ever. You give and you give and at first he'd thought you were stupid, just plain dumb. Generosity is a myth and everybody has their motives. He'd been suspicious of your angle, rejecting you, talking down on you, practically spitting at you to get lost. And you'd listened, for the most part, but then he'd see you in line after shifts for cards, around dark corners talking to dirty FEDRA officers, and you'd always impossibly feel his gaze and pin him with a smile. You've eroded his reluctance over time, and now you're here, sprightly and pretty in his too-big apartment filling every inch with light. 

He reaches across the gap and takes your hand. He squeezes, savouring the warmth of your smaller hand. You have delicate fingers compared to his, and they look smaller still enveloped in his grasp. 

"I'll make you something to eat," he says. 

You nod once, a pop of movement. "Thank you." 

You're not the one who should be saying it but you're the only one who's willing to. Thank you has become synonymous with I owe you. 

Tess lets her gaze flick between your two bodies, clearly startled. Joel drops your hand and it's too late, far too late, she's already gearing up to make fun. 

"Is this how it's gonna be now?" she asks. 

Joel huffs quietly. Tess talks with a brittle kind of love, the familiarity of knowing someone for a long time softening what would otherwise be ridicule. She thinks, without malice, that you and Joel are a bad idea.  

"Hasn't it been like this for a while?" you ask, turning to face her, your usual sunshine attitude worsened by Joel's affection. 

"You're fucking up my guy." 

"Don't get stiffed so often and you won't need a bodyguard," you say lightly. 

Joel snorts, tossing your catalogue of songs on the counter. He doesn't know if they have anything worth eating here, but he's gonna damn well try and find something. 

"You're soft," Tess says to Joel, quick and quipping as she dumps what's left of her drink into the sink. "I'm going out." 

Not much changes when she goes. You come to stand beside him at the counter, your elbow brushing his arm. He doesn't move away. 

Joel doesn't understand why you stick around. Doesn't know what it is that makes you so sweet on him. The first time you met, outside the old meat market on the edge of curfew, he'd been standing watch as Tess made a deal. You'd slunk up on him from the right, and said, "You look unhappy," with your usual softness. 

He'd turned to you in wonder. Wonder in the very worst sense of the word; what could possibly possess you to approach him? Agitation struck like the powdery head of a match against its box, fuck off on the tip of his tongue, and you'd said, "You ever hear that Bill Withers song? 'Ain't no sunshine without rain?'" 

He'd thought you were a wannabe member of the resistance, and that fuck off had rolled right out of his mouth with ease. Your smile hardly wavered. 

"It's 'when she's gone,'" he says now.

You look up at him, he looks down at you. His thick brows relax, and his brown eyes calm. It suits him, and you'd tell him, but you're confused. 

"Huh?" 

"That Bill Withers song. It's 'ain't no sunshine when she's gone,'" he corrects you, the you from the past. He's trying to tell you something without saying it out loud. 

"Oh," you say. Your eyelashes kiss in the corners as you smile. "Right. What am I thinking of?" 

"How should I know?" He doesn't sound mad, smiling at you very briefly.

"I don't know, I thought you knew everything." 

That's not true. He can't know everything, because he doesn't have a clue in the world what he did to deserve meeting you. 

—

please forgive any inaccuracies, I only played the game a little when I was much younger, and so this was made of my watching the first episode twice and some help from people / the wiki!! it's just for fun lol so I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3

[minhosimthings]

Enha reaction to when you’re doing it at their parents house but you can’t stay silent…

My exhibitionism kink be kinking so hard rn I LOVE THIS.

More under the cut!

Heeseung, being the embodiment of horny he is, wouldn't last two days without a taste from your cunt. And a trip to his parents' house for two weeks? The chances of sex was approximately zero. Unless you could keep quiet.

"Shush now princess, don't want my brother to hear do we?" He'd whisper ever so softly in your ear, his tongue curling up inside your pussy. You could feel your orgasm start to come upto your stomach, and you had to try hard not to scream holy hell out loud, even as Heeseung slowed the flicking of his tongue through your folds.

"Dirty dirty girl aren't you?" He'd chuckle, afterwards, as your scream was muffled by his hand, "Always so noisy for me."

Jay wouldn't be too much on the train of fucking at his parents' house. Yes, he knew you couldn't last that long without his dick, but it was his childhood bedroom you guys were staying in. With all the stuffed toys and medals staring at him, he wasn't too comfy with that idea. But with a little bit of manipulation and maybe a bit of pheromone, he was laying on the bed with you between his legs while his parents were downstairs casually watching a movie without a care.

"Ah-ah fuck-fuck-fuck!" Jay's nearing his orgasm for what feels like the tenth time now, yet you show no sign of granting him his release anytime soon. Your hand expertly pumps his cock, now red and leaking in angry protest, occasionally running your thumb over his sensitive tip. His body jolts in response, toes curled and hips bucking into your hand.

"Fucking hell baby." He'd moan, after you grant him his sweet release, "Your turn now."

Jake is elated about fucking you literally anywhere, so his parents' place wasn't a stop sign for him. The only thing he knew would be a hindrance was how loud you could be, with his cock inside of you. It boosted his ego a bit, to think that he could make you scream like that.

"Shh babe, don't want the entire neighbourhood to know what kind of a slut you are do we?" His necklace acted as a very effective gag, successfully silencing you to the point where the metal was almost going to break from how hard you were biting it. But how could you not? With Jake's rough pace, his hips repeatedly slamming into yours, his mouth and fingers leaving masterpieces on your canvas of a body.

"I'll get a better one next time." Jake would growl in your ear, removing the necklace from your mouth as your eyes almost roll to the back of your head from how hard he had fucked you, "Only the best for you, princess."

Sunghoon, very akin to Heeseung, would also not last 48 hours without pussy. The only problem was that you weren't exactly that willing to have your cunt destroyed by him in his parents' house. Especially with his little sister there. So, he had to take drastic measures. Forcing you into the bathroom in the middle of the night, Sunghoon would place the palm of his hand against your mouth to silence your whimpers.

"The bed would creak way too much for my sister to not notice." He'd chuckle, bending you against the marble counter and stretching your ass out, while his hand is still pressed perhaps a bit too tightly on your mouth. Flipping you over onto your back, he'd have no interest in stretching you out, instead choosing to ram his cock into your pussy, making you scream out loud.

"Tch tch you're so loud baby." He'd tease you, taking his length out and then ramming it in again making you whimper pathetically under his weight, "You want the neighbourhood to know what we're doing right now? You want them to know what a pathetic slut you are hm?"

[d1stract-and-daydream]

0 Days Since [Part 1] (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

WC: 872

Warning: Self-harm, angst, slight miscommunication

Reader overheard something that sets them spiralling.

A drag of metal, the brief sting silencing the screams in your brain to a mocking hush; this day wasn't supposed to end this way.

You watch the bead of blood enlarging on the inflicted line. The ghost of its ancestors pale in the background. 

No, you were doing so well. 

To your left, a smashed cupcake, icing smeared on the linen of your bed. 

One year.

You had been clean of your bad coping mechanisms for almost one year today, and it was supposed to be a day for you and Ghost to celebrate.

He'd been so patient with you, because he'd been through the same self-loathing you were in back when you'd just met. Helped you as you pulled yourself out of it. Provided the rope and taught you the best way to climb up and out.

Maybe these past few weeks, you weren't at your best. A mission not going to plan tends to lead to that.

Lives lost, haunting screams; the face of a woman clawing at your arms, begging you to save her from the fatal gunshots all over her frail body.

It was too much too fast, and you might have spiraled a bit too hard.

Just drinking. Not the cutting.

Today, you were determined to shed all of the harmful coping mechanisms you'd learned to lean on since you were a teenager.

No more drinking. No more smoking. No more cutting.

For him. 

Simon.

Because you wanted to have a long enough life—barring mission fatalities—to spend with him.

The cupcake in hand, you took light steps towards the mess hall so you could tell him of the news—that you were one year clean.

He was talking to Soap. So you paused, not wanting to bother them.

Eavesdropping. Or not. They were talking in a communal space. 

"How's she?" Soap asked him as he shoveled food into his mouth. 

The area was busy, but not noisy enough that you couldn't make out what they were talking about. 

You.

"She's okay. Surviving."

You smile. It's all thanks to him. This cupcake, it's for him, a little symbol of victory; both in your lives and relationship.

"Good lad," you heard Soap gave Simon a good hard pat on his back. Decided to give them time to talk as you sat at the bench just outside the mess hall.

Then, a sigh.

"It's too hard sometimes, Johnny. Feels like I'm pulling them out with an oil-slicked rope. Tried and tried only to-"

The cupcake cradled in your hands tilted. Almost falling off your thighs. What Simon said next, you couldn't hear, the ringing in your ears overtaking your senses.

Were you that hard to deal with? Too needy? Too much?

You loved Simon, and of course, you would always need him in your life. It just never crossed your mind that you might be needing him more than he does you, that you're a parasitic vine choking him off the nutrients he needed to flourish.

"It's how it always is, L.T., you love them, you gotta try."

"Wish it weren't so damn fucking hard," Simon answered, "sometimes I think to myself if it's all worth it."

A painful sob threatened to tear its way out of you.

You ran, swift, away from foot traffic, away from the mess hall, from the realisation that you were a burden to the last person you want to be one to. 

"Lean on me, darling," he'd told you. Said that he'll take care of all your problems while you just focus on living, on finding yourself again. Your reluctance was swayed off bit by bit because of his words and actions—their unwavering persistence a testament to his care. 

He said he loved you. Three months ago. 

Is he going to take it back?

Was that even true, or just a pacifier, your carrot on a stick to help you crawl out of your hole?

0 days since your last incident. 

One line, two. Was trying to get better even worth it when the ruby liquid sang lullabies with every drop you granted freedom to? You could focus on the way they beaded, the gentle flow, the fall in slow motion before the floor below you was dirtied by red.

It was either of the two that your body had always resorted to, tears or blood. When you cry, your insides feel like they're shredded to millions of different pieces, but that was normally the healthier of the two. But you're not going to cry while your fellow soldiers were still awake and could hear you at any moment.

This, this silenced not only your thoughts, but the way you released it too. Hurting yourself never fails to make you numb, hazy. It's a feeling you seek a lot, thus your habit. Simon told you it's better to cry. To do it on his shoulder.

A burden.

Three, four. New ones welcomed by the old , a ritual of pain dancing around the fire of emptiness. If you truly wanted to get better, you'd already have your razors thrown away, and perhaps this was what Simon meant by too much.

And then there were tears, anyway.

You will never get better, will you?

"Love?"

Part 2

[eskumii]

yandere!incel!tomura shigaraki + foreigner!darling who can't speak japanese

TITLE: " RENT-A-GF " — navi.

NOTES: nsfw (18+ only) below the cut (non-con!! somnophilia!!) reminder: this is merely fantasy, i don't condone. will prob proofread someday lol. enjoy!

PAIRING: yandere!incel!shigaraki tomura x foreinger!reader

GENRE/AU: shigaraki is rlly misogynistic and delusional, age gap (you're older), reader is a substitute english teacher who got kidnapped by bwad gwuys and is now... yeah

CHARACTERS: shigaraki tomura (21), reader (24)

let's be for real: shigaraki was born to be an incel.

and incel!shigaraki is shamelessly self-aware of this, indeed. when he's not out terrorizing innocent citizens with his villainous coups, he takes to the internet to fulfill his insatiable need for an adrenaline rush. gorey video games and brutal death metal makes him light up in glee, but sometimes it's just not enough.

so, instead, he's a frequent on the dark web, diligently scouring sites that specialize in obscure female porn collectives that cater to his twisted kinks. incel!shigaraki glowers at the pictures of stupid, slutty women who prance around in sexy lingerie, but still gets a hard-on because he wishes he had a woman who would do that for him and him only.

and what shigaraki wants, he gets. on another sweaty night in his dark bedroom, he's boredly clicking through the hundreds of entries of women who are being sold for, what he thinks, too high of a price. not that money would ever be a problem for him; if he felt compelled to, he could just kidnap the girl he wanted all over again. so, no, it's not the price—it's what he thinks they're worth based on his attraction to them.

and, so far, all of them are worthless.

you see, the conundrum is that incel!shigaraki has a thing for foreign girls. don't ask why, he doesn't know. maybe he finds it cute that they're so clueless about his culture and language, and he's the one who'll control the narrative that rules their ignorance. maybe it's so cute how they wear their perpetual confusion on their face at all times, like a bratty kid who can't navigate the world without mommy or daddy by their side.

of course, though, women could hardly do anything on their own anyway. every time he came across one they'd wail and cry as he grabbed them by the hair and threatened to kill them if they didn't shut the hell up. they'd beg for their lives or scream for someone to save them, but it would only piss him off more at how useless and brainless they tended to be. he just couldn't help but decay them—they were so noisy and whiny, it wasn't his fault.

obviously, shigaraki has neither patience nor experience with women. in fact, he can probably count with two fingers how many times he's had a non-violent interaction with a woman in his entire lifetime. the mere thought of this drives his insecurities to the brink of rage, but it's not his fault women are so unbelievably tasteless in their choice of men. it's their fault he has to go to such lengths to find a decent woman worthy of his presence.

but imagine his delight when he happens upon a listing of you, an immediately attractive foreign woman who used to be an english substitute teacher of all things. he clicks through your pictures with a renewed vigor, his interest piqued as he studies your unique features. eagerly, he scours through your posted information and it turns out that you happen to be exactly the kind of woman he's looking for.

it's a done deal. the transaction takes less than a few minutes and incel!shigaraki couldn't be more pleased with how smoothly it went. he'll have to leave a good review later on, when and if the woman he's just bought has satisfied him.

it takes just one night before shigaraki finds you literally dropped off at his doorstep like an amazon prime package. you’ve clearly been pampered with the way you’re clad in a skimpy maid outfit; your nails, hair, and makeup are all dolled to perfection. you look exactly like you did in the pictures.

and clearly you're wise beyond your years. you don't speak much because of the obvious language barrier, but you do seem to understand a bit of elementary japanese. shigaraki is delighted by your small mutterings of broken japanese—it’s unbelievably cute. sometimes he'll force you to speak in japanese just because he loves watching you struggle with your limited vocabulary.

incel!shigaraki gets attached to you. you're very attractive in his eyes, and he's completely ecstatic that you're all his. a woman he can do whatever he wants with, and no one would dare question him. the immense power trip sends him over the edge.

that being said, the first couple of weeks are still rather... awkward. you're not happy about being in the situation you're in, but you're smart enough to keep that to yourself. you don't fuss when shigaraki orders you to fetch him liquor or tidy up his filthy room, nor do you complain when he commands you to cuddle with him or keep him company while he plays video games.

"[name], c'mere," he'd bark at you, eyes still glued to the tv screen.

"be a good girl and keep my lap warm, hm?"

he'll force you to wear cute lingerie sets like he's seen the women on porn sites do. somehow you look so much better though, and it feels as though you're teasing him with the way you bend over so much while cleaning. the outline of your pussy through the small fabric that stretches over it has him horny in a matter of seconds. you're such a tease, aren't you ashamed? you just can't seem to stay in line.

however, despite all your obvious sexual innuendos towards him, shigaraki gets no relief. he's resorted to jacking off whenever you go to sleep but no matter how hard or how much he cums, there's an itch that can't be scratched with masturbation alone. and the way you're so shy around him is adorable, sure, but your little playing-hard-to-get act wasn't cutting it anymore.

the remedy? incel!shigaraki starts slipping sleeping pills into your food and drinks.

and it doesn't take long for shigaraki to develop a routine of visiting you while you're sleeping. partly to check up on you and assure himself of your presence, but mostly to creep around the edges of the bed and feel you up. you sleep so soundly that you don't even twitch when he fondles your soft breasts or runs his spindly fingers over your curves.

he almost doesn't want to disturb you; you look so peaceful, totally different than the frightened little faces you muster when you're awake. but the bothersome tightness stretching his boxers taut against its stitches makes it hard to resist his urges. anyway, you're simply doing the only thing a woman is good for: using your body to please him.

his breath is hot and heavy, laced with lust and selfish perversion as he defiles you to get himself off. some nights he just sits and admires your beauty, caressing your face with clumsy, inexperienced fingertips. some nights your shirt is pulled up so he can marvel at how nicely your breasts sit in whatever color bra he forced you to wear.

other nights his cock is nestled between them, thrusting like his life depends on it, chasing that euphoric high he gets when he finally spills his seed across your hardening nipples. and other nights shigaraki is even more daring—cute pajama pants and panties below your knees, face buried between your thighs as he explores every inch of your sweet cunt. he knows it's wrong, but so what? he's a villian, that's what makes it feel so right.

when you make faces in your sleep, he's filled with so much genuine affection—it's almost as if you're telling him he's doing a good job. you love it, don't you? he so desperately wants to hear you cry his name in that precious accent of yours and run your hands through his hair as you lavish your praise upon him for making you cream so many times.

he can't keep his eyes off you. so soft and compliant. you're so pretty while he's stuffing his cock into you and relentlessly flicking your little clit, not stopping even when he feels you clench around him like a vice as you orgasm over and over. not stopping even though you're drooling all over the linen sheets and he's came twice already.

"that's right... y-you gonna cum again? you gonna—ngh—cum all over my cock, you dumb whore?"

shigaraki watches with glassy, intrigued eyes as you squirm ever so slightly, face warped into one of undeniable pleasure as he ravages your gushing pussy. you're such a good girl for him, letting him use you as he wishes.

you're the woman he's chosen to give his virginity to. he's so happy and content that when he cums inside of you for the third time, he doesn't pull out. instead, shigaraki gently maneuvers your body so he can spoon you from behind, whispering tender "i love you's" as if he knows what that means. absently grinding his hips because your warmth is so comforting around his sticky, softening dick.

as much as shigaraki wants to stay and pound you into the mattress all night, the sleeping medication doesn't last forever. not to mention the mess you've made; the sheets are completely ruined and your clothes are strewn about on the floor, long forgotten. it's hot in your room and it stinks of his cum and sweat, but it doesn't really matter. the only thing on his mind is you and how he'll ruin you again tomorrow night.

for now, though, he rewards you for being so good by cleaning you up, smirking whenever you unconsciously nuzzle up to his touch. when your clothes are back on, he plants a tender kiss on your forehead and admires your flushed face from the shadows of your bedside. when the sun begins to rise and you stir in your ignorance, he'll sneak out and act as if nothing ever happened.

incel!shigaraki who doesn't deny that you're just another stupid slutty woman, but you're the only woman he'll ever want to cum inside of. when he returns to his room, he remembers to pull up your archived listing on his computer and dazedly taps away at his keyboard.

"10/10 recommend"

[lovelybunn]

"special" request.ㅤ- feat. engineer & gender neutral reader

warning(s): smut (under cut), sucking fixation, praise kink

word count: 1.8k

The engineer was working on one of his many schematics for the team inside his workshop, until you came over to pay him a little visit.

The man was deep in concentration, his eyes focused intently on the blueprints scattered across his workbench. Unexpectedly, the sound of footsteps disrupted his thoughts. “Howdy, partner. How may I help you today, son?” The moment he heard the sound of your familiar laughter, he swiveled around in his chair to face you.

He chuckled in his typical sweet and sultry tone, his soothing voice causing a shiver to run down your spine. “Ah, it's you. Nice to see ya, (Name). What’re you doin’ this late at night? Isn't it past your bedtime, little feller?” To be quite frank, he was right. It was almost two in the morning when you showed up inside his workshop. “Well…” you started, wanting to find the correct phrasing. “I'm gonna ask for a weird favor from you.” you said, watching his eyebrows furrow in confusion. He burst into a deep, belly laugh at that, shaking his head to himself. “Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, sugar. There's nothing you could ask from me that'll shock me even in the slightest.”

You sighed, taking that as permission. “Engi…Can I touch you?” You asked sheepishly, feeling a bit nervous to approach the issue. The engineer gave you a curious expression, lifting his goggles up to look you dead in the eyes. Before he could process your words, he tilted his head to the side, a hint of confusion playing at his brow. "Touch me?" He repeated, the gears in his head visibly turning as he tried to decipher your words. “What do you mean by that, (Name)? You're bein’ rather vague, kiddo.”

You nervously rubbed the back of your neck, biting your lower lip as you spoke. "Maybe…like, a hug or something? I kind of need one." You felt the heat in your cheeks grow as you stumbled over your words. The engineer took notice as well. Although, instead of laughing at you like half of the other mercenaries might have done, he looked genuinely concerned. “Well, why didn't you say that in the first place, darlin’? If you were having a bad day, you'd know I try and help you. I may only be able to solve practical problems, but I love my friends.” He paused, patting his lap. “Come ere, then. Come give this sleep deprived genius a good ol’ hug, yeah?” He holds out his arms for you to embrace him.

You couldn't help but giggle at the sweet gesture, settling into the man's lap with a soft thump. You noticed how warm and soft he felt against you as you wrapped your arms around his broad, muscular shoulders and buried your head into the crook of his neck. The engineer chuckled softly as he rubbed gentle strokes across your back with his robotic hand, the cold metal sending shivers throughout your body. It was a strangely soothing sensation, the contrast between the cold, hard surface of his hand, and the warmth of your body providing a unique sensation that left you feeling incredibly relaxed… maybe even a bit curious.

To act on that said curiosity, you decided to push a bit further. The engineer patted your back gently as you sat up to lock eyes with him once more. “You feeling better now, (Name)?” You nodded slowly, your eyes heavy from the intense sense of relaxation flowing through you. “Mhm…” He smiled in response, “I'm glad to hear it. Alrighty then, lil bit. You better go get some shut eye before—” His words were abruptly interrupted as you pulled him closer, pressing your lips onto his.

You felt the scruff of his beard against your chin and the warmth of his breath against your lips. The taste of his mouth fills you with a sense of tenderness and desire that makes your heart pound in your chest, a desire that only seemed to grow larger and larger as both his real and robotic hands found their way beneath your shirt. Your skin prickled with anticipation as he chuckled deeply in your ear. He seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were. “Ya seem to want more than just a hug, sweetheart.” He said, the sweet sound of his Southern drawl buzzing in your ears. He paused to kiss you once more. “It's a great thing I agree with you, huh?”

Your eyes lit up in excitement as you asked, “Really? You wanna do this with me?” His voice dropped several octaves as he chuckled, his words making your heart race. “Oh, baby, I've wanted to do this with you for a hot minute.” The engineer grazed the tips of his robotic hand against your soft, pouty lips. “Ain't you a cute little guy?” He hummed, “you like Gunslinger, yeah?” You murmured a small "yes" in response, your attention completely focused on the engineer's subtle, sensual movements.

“(Name),” he said, his tone soft, yet demanding. “Show me how much you like Gunslinger.” A mischievous smirk crept onto the man's lips, the one you'd only ever seen when he was planning to scheme against the other team. “Use that pretty little mouth of yours.” You blushed profusely at the suggestion, “Engi, what did you just say?”

Before there was any more room for questioning, he slid a thick, metallic finger into your mouth. “Suck it, baby. We both know you want to.” Involuntarily, you moan quietly, wrapping your lips around the digits. Your tongue lapped circles in between his fingers in a delicate, slick motion. “That's right, just like that,” the engineer croons. “That tastes good in your mouth now, don't it?” You hum in agreement, tasting the familiar tang on your tongue.

After a few moments, he slipped his Gunslinger out of your wet mouth. The engineer gazed in awe at the state of his hand, now covered in your slick saliva. He let out an audible exhale, his eyes trained on the sight as he spoke. "Good job," he praised, a hint of appreciation in his voice. You smiled eagerly in response, curious to see just how far you could take this venture. The excitement only grew as you watched his eyes shift from his hand to you, a playful glint in them. He chuckled lowly, his normal hand grazing against your skin, down the curve of your neck and across your jawline. Finally, the engineer's thumb circled your lips in a soft, gentle motion, causing you to lean in just a little closer, drawn in by his touch. “I'd reckon there's a lot more you can do.”

You chuckled at his words, your voice laced with desire as you teased, “Oh yeah? Like what?” He found your boldness humoring, letting out deep, full-bodied laughter. “I’ll show you, ‘like what,’” he replied, his tone matching yours. “Could ya stand up for me, (Name)?” Oblivious to his intentions, you obeyed, giving him space. You were a little confused about what he was doing, until you watched as the engineer unlatched the straps of his overalls, letting them fall off his shoulders.

He felt you gawking at him, and smirked. “You like what you see? This is all self-made.” You bit your lip before asking, “What are you planning, Engi?”

“It's simple, really,” he says, his voice even and matter-of-fact. “All you gotta do is get on your knees and open that mouth.” Once again, you did as told without a second thought. Your eyes widened with the realization of just how far you've come.

He let his erect cock out from his boxers, already dripping with precum. He peered down at you, his expression lustful as he drank in the sight of you beneath him. You caressed his member, rubbing the veiny groin against your cheek. You lick at the base of the engineer's cock slowly, daringly. He groans softly in response, the sound alone making your mind spin. You could feel his hand on your head, the warmth of his touch sending a rush of heat through your entire body. “Oh, damn, baby, I didn't have to tell you anything, huh?” He let out another small, contented groan, his words laced with admiration. “You just know exactly what to do.”

The tip of him filled your mouth; your tongue teased at the sensitive spot. You made direct eye contact with the engineer while you pushed him deeper down your throat. He felt so good with you wrapped around him, his breathless, delicious moans reflecting the pleasure you were giving him. His voice was gruff as he spoke, his thick accent returned. "Yeah, that's right," a low growl rises in the engineer's throat, “Just like that, cowboy. Show this good ol’ engineer how much you love him.” One of your free hands took a hold of the base of his cock and stroked it vigorously as you sucked harder and deeper on his cock. The way his head fell back over the chair, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, was enough to tell you he was close. His breathing grew heavier, his body tensing as he moaned your name, “Oh my lord, (Name),” He grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You're gonna make me cum, baby.” And cum he did. The engineer's hot seed flows into your mouth, coating your throat with its white, thick texture.

He laughed breathlessly, combing through your scalp in appreciation. “Good,” he muttered, his voice low and raspy. “That was amazing, darlin’,” he continued, "Now, stick that tongue out for me." His thumb took a hold of your jaw, opening your mouth. He snickered as he looked at the thick puddle of his own cum lathered onto your tongue. “Damn… I didn't realize I had that much in me.” He caressed your cheek before he slowly removed his hand from your face, reaching for a tissue for you. "There you go," he said, cleaning you off. You smiled and swallowed the rest of his cum. “Thanks. That was fun.” You exclaimed hoarsely, your jaw a little sore. You stood back up to sit in his lap once more. The two of you shared a sloppy, yet tender kiss, your bodies leaning into each other in an act of post climactic bliss.

You pull away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of your panting lips together. “I've always wanted to do that, y'know.” You paused, your eyes averted away from him nervously. “I just didn't think you'd be into it.” He kissed your forehead reassuringly. “Well, I've had my eye on you for a while now, (Name). There's not a lot of people quite like you around these parts.” The engineer grazed your spine and leaned closer to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. “And you're quite the dirty little thing, aren't you?” You giggled and shrugged. “I guess I am.” He kissed your neck, enjoying watching you sigh at his touch. “I guess we'll have to do this more often, then. I wouldn't mind having someone else hangin’ around with me during the later hours.” He murmured onto the nape of your neck. “I'd like to have an assistant for all my special needs.”

[thedarlingdearestdead]

Locked up with Anakin:

Summary: Enemies to lovers (almost). You're locked up with Anakin Skywalker and ~tension~ happens.

Warnings: None just fluff and banter.

Word count: 1,330

"It's no use." He says uninterestedly, watching you pull at the door. "I already tried that."

You bristled at his unhelpfulness. Anakin Skywalker was seated in the far corner of the dark cell, under the light of the only small window, a tiny rectangle high up on the wall. The light outside was dying, the suns setting, illuminating the cell only slightly in an orange glow.

"How long have we been in here?" You asked, having only awoken moments ago. Cold, tired, and terribly confused. 

"I don't know for sure. I only gained consciousness a couple of hours ago. Hopefully this is the first sunset and we were only out for a few hours but there's no way to know for sure."

You groaned and wiped your face with your hands. A four day offensive on Ryloff, you just arrive back into orbit before your ship was pulled in via a tractor beam. Some kind of gas must have knocked the two of you out because now you were most certainly on a planet somewhere. 

"I sent out a distress signal before we were cut off. I'm sure they've already sent someone to come get us." He says lazily, arms crossed on his chest as he watched you try to think. 

You roll your eyes and take stock of what you had on you. No saber, obviously, no... anything. Frustration bubbled up inside of you, finding outlet in Anakin's bored features. 

Here you were, stuck in a cell with no way out, and he was acting like it was no big deal. You took a deep breath to calm yourself before turning to him.

"Can't you at least try and help me think of a way out?" you asked, trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

Anakin shrugged. "I've been trying, but it's not like I have my lightsaber or any of my other tools."

You knew he had a point, but you couldn't just sit there and wait for rescue. You looked around the cell, taking note of the stone walls and the metal door. There was a small vent near the ceiling, but it was too small for either of you to fit through.

You paced back and forth in the cramped space, "Ok fine. forget escaping - for now. Do you have any idea where we are? Who took us?" 

Anakin let out a sigh, his face twisted in a scowl. "I have no idea. This place is unfamiliar to me, and whoever took us must have jammed our senses somehow. I can't even use the Force to sense anything outside of this cell."

You nodded, glad he had some understanding the gravity of your situation. "So, what now?"

Anakin's eyes flickered to the metal door, his mind working. "We wait for our captors to show themselves. When they do, we take them by surprise and make our escape."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Anakin smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. "I have my ways."

"Force, I hate you." You sit down in the opposite corner of his room and he looks at you with complete amusement. 

"What have I done?"

"Nothing. That's the problem." You say to his increasing agitation. “I’m sure you used to this by now but I don’t want to be locked up here!”

"Hey - what’s that supposed to mean?! Look, I can't magic us out of here! And I don't see you being very productive either!”

“Oh come on, this is not your first time locked up like this! You must be able to do something!” You say exasperated. 

He was getting wound up now. “I got nothing! I’m stuck here, same as you. We just have to sit here and wait.”

You huff, annoyed. 

Silence falls between you as you both settle in for the long wait ahead. The orange glow of the suns outside fades to darkness, leaving the cell in complete blackness. You're left to your thoughts and fears, wondering what fate awaits you at the hands of your captors. Wondering if Anakins eyes will ever leave your face. He has been staring at you for what feels like hours. Glaring, or gloating, something horrible. He always drove you crazy, it was supposed to be the quickest of missions otherwise you were sure to have put up more of a fight when the council paired you two up for it. 

So you sat here, frozen, feeling helpless as he stared, waiting for him to look away so he could think of some way to free you from your predicament. You didn't want his attention. So you simply sat quietly, trying to ignore him as best you could. 

 If Anakin kept looking at you like that, you might end up killing him, or worse, you might just go crazy under his gaze, lose your nerve and start kissing him.

No. Stop thinking about that. Just focus on the mission. You let your head lean back against the wall and let out a weary sigh, shivering slightly in the cold. 

As the moments dragged on in the dark cell, the tension between you and Anakin only seemed to grow. His intense gaze remained fixed on you, and you could practically feel the waves of irritation radiating from him. It was infuriating how he managed to push your buttons even in the direst of situations.

"Listen, I know we don't always see eye to eye, but if we're going to get out of here, we need to work together. Can you promise me that we'll put our differences aside for now? We need to be ready to face whoever has us, and I don’t want you using me as a human shield if it comes to it.”

You look up from your brooding and softened slightly, noticing for the first time some signs of agitation and fidgeting from you cell-mate, you nodded. “Fine. I'll do what it takes to get out of here safely. We can argue later."

He grins at that, posture relaxing slightly. “Ok then.” 

The two of you sat in silence once again, but this time it was a more peaceful one. You could hear each other's breathing, the rustling of clothes as you shifted your weight, and the occasional creaking of the cell door. It was in this stillness that Anakin spoke up once more.

"You know, I've been thinking," he began.

"Dangerous." You quip, and he rolls his eyes. 

"Fine, don't worry about it."

"No- No, come on please. I'm sorry!" You laugh at him a bit to ease the tension in the room.

"It's just- It's pretty cold in here."

"Yes"

"And it's going to get worse."

Oh. "Oh. Right well... You're right." Before you could think too much of it you stand up and go to sit beside him. Still leaving about a foot of space between you, much to his amusement. 

"I don't bite. Well... I won't" He seems to find this all too funny, patting the space right next to himself rather condescendingly. You had half a mind to go back to where you were before but you shuffle over, huffing again, choosing practicality instead of pettiness. At least you could be the bigger person.

Your shoulders were touching now and as the sky grew ever darker you legs found their way to each other as well. It was unconsciously done, minuscule movements over the hours drawing you together. 

You couldn't help but notice the way Anakin's body seemed to fit so perfectly against yours, as if it was meant to be there.

You could feel the heat emanating from Anakin's body, and it was a welcome relief from the cold stone walls. As fatigue won you over your head sunk with heaviness, ever closer to his shoulder. Until eventually the two of you were asleep, tangled together in the corner of the cell. 

And that's exactly how Obi Wan found you in the small hours of the morning…

[amaya-writes]

Calling Them After You have A Bad Dream Of Them Part One: Shigaraki

Notes: tbh I just saw this idea sitting in my drafts yesterday and suddenly felt motivated to write it between classes so here's a cute lil drabble. send me an ask for any other characters you would want this idea with

Warnings: mentions of nightmares/bad dreams, mentions of kidnapping (very lightly, he thought sm bad happened to you), reader calls Tomura Tomu because I think it's cute and was going for a cutesy reader vibe

Characters involved: Shigaraki Tomura

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Your hand shook around the cold metal of your phone even as you pressed it against your ear.

Long rings echoed from the device, with each sound making a new wave of anxiety surge through your abdomen.

He was fine. You knew that. You had just gotten off of the phone with Tomura a couple hours back and he made it clear he wasn't harmed during their fight against the heroes.

He was safe, just like the rest of the liberation was.

But that dream.

The mere thought of your dream was enough to make shivers wrack your body as you crawled further under your blanket.

The warmth of the soft material helped remotely calm your racing heart but it did nothing to quell the fear consuming you.

You wanted him. You needed him.

You needed to feel Tomura's arms wrap around your form as you buried your nose in his long hair. You needed to have him by your side so you could forget.

Forget about all the blood and decay, forget about the fire and the dust that made you double over in a coughing fit as you watched the heroes take your love away from you. Forget about the screams, about the way blood matted his skin as he screamed for you to-

"Hello?"

The sound of his voice made you jerk up in surprise but you found yourself scrambling to reach your phone a moment later.

"Tomu? Hi! Uh- I-"

You trailed off then, taking in the sound of fabric ruffling on his side of the phone as he no doubt moved around in bed to find the blaring red alarm clock on his bedside.

"It's two am, baby, why are you still up?"

A long yawn followed his question, the sound causing your heart to clench in guilt.

You woke him up. He had spent the entire week restlessly fighting off the heroes and barely had time to blink much less sleep. He was exhausted, and had collapsed almost as soon as the liberation escaped the battleground.

And you were stupid enough to wake him up when he was too tired to even move.

You were stupid. So stupid. You were a problem, a liability. You were useless.

Just like in the dream. You couldn't save him, you couldn't help him, you would just trouble him and be the reason for his demise.

You didn't realise tears were streaming down your face until it was too late and a sob escaped your lips.

You wished Tomura was sleep deprived enough to not hear the sound, but the sharp sounds of fabric from the other side of the phone told you otherwise.

"Baby? What- are you okay? What's going on? Fuck, I knew I should have kept you here with me! Those wretched heroes-"

"Tomu, I'm fine."

You had to raise your voice to make him actually listen to you, but you somehow managed to subdue his panicked rambles.

"Where are you?"

"Home."

Another rustle of fabric, but this time you could hear him moving out of bed.

"I'll be there soon."

"But Tomu-"

He cut the call before you could finish, forcing you to once again curl up on your bed with an annoyed sigh.

By the time you awoke, his fingers were already carding through your hair.

The sudden feeling made you jolt up in alarm but you were quick to return to his embrace the second your eyes took in Tomura's familiar form.

His clothes were a mess and his hair riddled with tangles. Blood stained the sides of his neck and bits of his skin peeking out from under his black sweater and pants. And you weren't certain, but you could almost swear you saw a bruise or two blossoming across his arms.

Tomura was injured and imperfect. But he was here. He was safe.

And he was looking at you like he wanted to murder someone.

"Who hurt you?"

"What? No one, Tomu, it's not like that."

His eyebrows furrowed at your words, but he thankfully chose not to say anything as you sat up and shifted to loosely wrap your arms around him.

"I- well, I had a nightmare. A bad one. It was about you and-"

You sucked in a sharp breath, but even that wasn't enough to help you voice your nightmares. So you didn't.

"I was just scared, I'm sorry I woke you up."

Tomura remained quiet even as you huddled closer to his chest. His fingers continued untangling your hair, never stopping even when he let out a painfully strained chuckle.

"You made me run halfway across a city for a nightmare?"

"I didn't mean to! I told you not to come I-"

His hand moved to hold your chin even as you spoke, with his fingers squishing your cheeks to cut off anything you could say.

"Don't care. You can repay me with breakfast in the morning."

His hands dropped from your face then, instead shifting to your waist as he pulled the two of you under the blankets.

The room descended into a comfortable silence broken by the periodic scratches of his nails carding through your hair and the soft rustles of fabric.

Normally, the silence would have made you stare owlishly at your ceiling as your brain flooded with thoughts of your dreams.

But not now. Not when you were surrounded by his warm presence ready to turn all your nightmares to dust.

With him, you were safe. You were untouchable.

You had found your sanctuary in the arms of a villain. But you were fine with that.

"Love you, Tomu."

He let out a soft hum against the crown of your head, with his lips parting to echo your words a moment later.

[james-is-here]

Inspired by this reel

Kneeling to the ground, Mn fisted the man's collar and pulled him closer. The man was cut up, bloody and bruised while being illuminated by a single light bulb in the dark, stone walled room.

The man whimpers, hands scrambling to hold onto Mn's fist as he shook his head, apologies spewing out of his mouth as he trembles. "Do you even know what you did?" The man's sputtering stops and his eyes widen. "N-No, Sir." A wicked grin slowly grows on Mn's face while he laughs darkly, tightening his hold and bringing the man closer. "You admitted, openly, online, that you were gonna harm one of my boyfriends and I will not tolerate that kind of behavior."

Mn threw him back down, standing up and walking to a nearby table to grab a knife while the man on the floor trembled and tried to back away into a corner before Mn came back over and stepped on his ankle, holding him in place while he yelped and whimpered. "Not so tough now, are you? All bark but no bite. Tell me...Why get to know my partners names and all that if you were just gonna turn into a dick and threaten to harm them?" "I-I don't know, Please don't hurt me! Please! I'm sorry!!"

Mn scowls, removing his foot before kneeling again, about to slice a mark into his arm before the metal door creaks open and his assistant walks in. "I said no calls." Mn says sternly as he turns to Daesung. "It's from..." He clears his throat before continuing. "It's from...Skijigi...sir." Mn stares at his assistant for a moment before sighing, tossing the knife next to the sasaeng, who flinched, before walking over to Daesung. "Deal with the problem, I'll be back later." Mn glared over his shoulder while Daesung nods, Kai takes his phone from the males hand and walks out of the room.

Mn clears his throat, collecting himself before lifting the phone to his ear. "Hello?" "Mn, where are you?! I told you filming started in two hours, now it starts in thirty minutes and you're not here yet!" The man on the other side said frantically. "Sorry, Sir, I'm on my way." "You better be."

Daesung walked out with the problem and took him to the back door before tossing him out, not caring that he falls onto the pavement and closing the door behind him. Daesung honestly admired his boss, being an idol along with being a hitman of sorts? That's impressive.

Mn took care of tasks that other people pay him to take care of as well as dealing with haters that want to harm his group and himself. He's been doing it for years, surprisingly even before he joined a k-pop group. His dad inspired him to take care of the bad people, he just brought his groups haters into the mix when he saw how bad it's gone over the years of being with them.

"Dae, I need to get going, can you clean the room up, go through the list of payers, and find anymore problem anti's?" "Yes, sir." "Thanks. I'll be back when I'll be back. As usual, if there's a high payer and I'm not back, you can do the job." "Yes, Sir."

Mn walked to the car, his driver getting up from his desk and walking to get the car ready. Mn wiped the small amount of blood off his face and hands with his handkerchief before straightening himself out as he stepped into the vehicle and the driver took off.

After a short ride, Mn arrived with time to spare. "Wait, sir, you have-" His driver couldn't finish as Mn shut the door and headed into the building. "...Blood in your hair..." The driver sighed before driving away to park.

The blonde hastily walked into the dressing room, quickly shedding his shirt and pants before getting into his outfit for the shoot. Their stylist wasn't in the room but the makeup artist walked in after hearing a commotion and sighed. "You're almost late." "Sorry, Noona." She shook her head, pointing to the chair so she can quickly do his makeup. "What did you get in your hair?" She reached up to get it out before Mn grabbed her wrist out of instinct before releasing her hand softly and grabbing a tissue. "I'll get it." He said as he tried his best to get it out of his blonde hair.

"You have a pink spot now, Mn-ssi..." She grabbed a wipe and handed it to him. The wipe got it out better then the tissue and he thanked her before running out of the room and dashing to the set.

"Finally!! We were starting to get worried!" His leader said as he jogged over to him and hugged him. "I'm here. Sorry for being so behind, time flew past me and I didn't realize." He kissed Chan's forehead before moving further onto the set with the others. "You're lucky, Ln." Their manager mutters as he walked by. "Okay, let's start."

After filming, Mn conversed with the boys as they were getting ready to go home when his phone rang. "Pardon me." He said as he stepped outside and down the hall, supposedly out of ear shot from everyone.

"Daesung, I told you not to call until I said it was okay to do so." "I'm sorry, sir, but there's a payer that requires your attention." "I left you in charge, didn't I?" "Yes, sir, but this hit comes from..." "From who, Sung?" "U-Um..." "Daesung! Who is this hit from that's so important you can't do it yourself?" Mn said sternly, tired of the younger males hesitance. "Your sister! It comes from your sister! I-I'm sorry, sir, I would've handled it if it was someone else but it's from Eunhee...She wants you to off her ex for cheating on her with three other women." He said, reading off the request that's on the screen in front of him.

Mn's groan morphed into a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment before glaring at the wall and saying in a low voice. "You must be telling me this because she payed high, how much is she giving?" "She's pre-payed ten thousand..." Mn groans. "Refund her and tell her I'll take care of it. Family matters are free." "Yes sir..." "Ask her if she wants slow or fast, Find her ex, take him, put him in the basement and I'll deal with him later." "Yes, Sir." "Thank you, Daesung. See you later." "Goodbye, sir." and with that, the call ends.

He turns around, looking down at his phone before he's being pulled and dragged further down hallway then being pushed into a closet.

Finally having a moment to look up, he sees a frazzled Jisung, tears in his eyes as he breath heavily and can't decided whether or not to look at Mn or look away. "Ji, what's wrong?" Mn went to touch him, calm him down but he jerks away. "Y-You...T-Tell me what you sa-said isn't tr-true..." Jisung held up Mn's other earbud and Mn's face and heart sank when he remembered he and Jisung were listening to music before he got the call. "Sungie, I-" "No! T-Tell me what you said isn't true! Tell me that whatever you said on that call wasn't true!" "Sungie, I-I'm sorry..." He lets out a sob, turning away from Mn while gripping his hair. "Sungie, listen to me-" "No! I won't! How could you not tell us?! Why are you keeping whatever this is a secret?! Why are you doing this in the first place?!"

"To protect people." "PROTECT?! You're killing normal people, how is that protecting?!" "I'm protecting the good people from the bad." "By killing?" "Sungie, I don't kill." "Then why did that Daesung person on the phone say your sister wanted you to off her ex?" "She knows that I protect but she doesn't know how. She knows that me and dad are and were hitman but she doesn't know to what extent. I don't kill like dad did, I just harm and threaten people." "Why though..." Han sobs, Kai desperately wants to comfort him but he knows Jisung doesn't want to until he gets answers.

"I believe that there's good in people and they can change for the better." "How long...have you been doing this? With your dad?" Mnsighs, loosely crossing his arms. "Since before I joined Stray Kids...twenty-seventeen..." Jisung lets out a choked sob and turns away again, leaning on the wall before sinking down and covering his face with his hands.

His breathing picked up, slowly becoming harder to intake air as his thoughts ran wild. "Han..." A sob racked his body before he dropped his hands and started pulling on the collar of his hoodie. "Ji..." Mn began to worry as he kneeled down, reaching out to the rapper only to be pushed away. "Sungie, you need to slow down, Jagiya, or you're gonna pass out." "N-No, G-Get a-away..." He said through gasps and Mn's heart breaks, tears gathering in his eyes, he never liked seeing Jisung like this and it hurt that he was being pushed away.

"Jisung, I'm trying to help you." "I-I d-don't w-want you-your he-help..." He shakily stood up, shoving Mn back before leaving the room. "Jisung, No!" He followed him out of the room before stopping, seeing him in Minho's arms and the others gathered around him, trying to figure out what happened.

"Mn, what happened?" Chan asked and Mn hesitated. "T-Tell them..." Jisung stuttered as he turned to him. "Tell them!!" He pushed and Mn's eyes watered. "Jisung, I'm sorry-" "NO! Just tell them!!" He cried before being shushed by Minho and told to calm down.

"What is insisting you tell us?" Chan asked, his worry and concern growing as he's never seen Jisung so upset and shaky.

"I-I'm..." Mn's breathing got heavier as he looked at all the boys he loved before sighing. "I-I'm...I'm a hitman...P-People...pay me to...harm their enemies or people that have done them wrong..." He looks down, ashamed at himself as he heard gasps from some of them, a sob from Jisung, and a yell from Chan, Minho, and Changbin.

The staff around them gasp as well but their manager sighs. "Mn..." He said, but he didn't sound angry or upset, it was almost a tone of disappointment. "You know what happens now..." Mn looked up and over to him as he began pleading. "No, please sir. We're in the middle of a comeback, I can't..." "I'm sorry, Mn, but you agreed that if they found out, you would leave." "Wait, what?" Chan steps forward, looking between the two. "Chan...When I first joined, my dad and I told JYP what him and I do and why we do it. He almost rejected me when we explained it was for good, it was to get rid of the bad people of the world and he hesitantly reconsidered and let me stay as long as no one else found out but if anyone did, I'd leave Stray Kids to protect all of you."

Mn couldn't handle Chan's teary gaze and looked at his feet. "I didn't expect to fall in love with all of you or get as close to all of you as I did. I knew that would making leaving more difficult but I still followed my heart and I started protecting you guys as well...I don't even have the guts to tell you how many anti's I've threatened after I found them publicly announcing they were gonna hurt you guys or starting fake rumors."

"How many?" Chan whispers and Kai sighs, closing his eyes and he shook his head. "I can't..." "How many?" "I don't...I don't remember the number...but I remember the people. The one that caused Jin's hiatus, the one that started the rumor that Lix self harms, the ones that called Bin overweight, the ones that called Minho mean and that he doesn't care, the ones that make fun of all of you, the ones that call you a bad leader..." He listed off, his rant being fueled by his heart as he starts crying for the boys he's grown to love deeply.

"I-If I was given the chance, I would've denied my father's request of taking his place but i had already started doing the job before he retired. I-I didn't want to let him down, he was all I had as I have no mom. I'm the older brother, I'm the eldest son, I couldn't quit." "Yes, you could've!" Chan yelled. "I couldn't! I wasn't given a choice! He said I take his spot or I'm disowned as a Ln. It sounds dumb but I couldn't leave! I wanted to but the more I continued, the more I kept telling myself that I'm getting rid of the bad people and I saw it as a good thing."

"But why didn't you stop at the beginning when you knew it was bad?" Mn sighs, looking to the ceiling before looking back down at his shoes. "I don't know...I wanted to continue protecting the good people that I didn't see how wrong it was..."

"I think..." Chan started before looking at the others then back to Mn. "I think you...should leave..." Kai's head shot up before panically stepping towards Chan who stepped back. "N-No, Channie, please...please don't kick me out, I'm sorry, please." "No." "P-Please, I'm sorry. I'll stop, I'll give the tasks to Daesung or my younger brother, I'll quit, please." "No...You should go." "I-I can't...not in the middle of a comeback..." "We'll figure something out but you should go." "Jagiya, please, I c-can't-" "Don't...And consider this a breakup...from all of us..." Mn gasps, his heart clenching as he looks to everyone else whose gazes advert from Mn, some crying in the arms of others or looking away with tears in their eyes. "No..." "We're done...Ln-Ssi..." That was the final straw as Mn's heart broke at Chan's formal tone. "Channie, No, Please..." "I suggest you leave before we get security..."

Mn gasps, panting as he looks at everyone while stepping back. None of them look at him, not even a glance as he grits his teeth and walks out of the room, running outside before he sees his driver and books it, opening the door, scaring his driver in the process, before he lets out a scream. Leaning forward, his forehead rests on the dashboard as he sobs, arms wrapping around himself, shaking in his spot as he lets it all out.

"Sir, what's wrong?" His driver worried. "I Lost them! I-I lost a-all of th-them just because I didn't wa-want to disappoint dad! I-I can't make it up to them, I-I'll never get them back!" He sits back, looking at his driver with red eyes, the driver could see how shattered he was just by looking into his eyes. "Oh, Sir..." He placed a hand on Mn's shoulder comfortingly.

Leaning back, he stares at the roof of the car, trying to slow his breathing as he thinks. "I-I have to get them back. I-I have to make this right." "But how, sir?" Mn takes deep breaths, his exhales heavier as he thinks about what to do. "Take me home. I have an idea."

"You what?!" "I quit." "You can't quit a family business, son." "Appa, I don't care. I quit. Disowned me, forget about me, I don't care. I prefer the life I had outside of this mess. I can't be without my boys, it hurts too much. I can't get it out of my head, the way they didn't even glance at me, the way Channie said Ln-ssi instead of our usual nicknames, it hurt, appa. It hurt so much it felt like my heart actually shattered and I died. I can't live without them now, appa."

The older Ln sighed, crossing his arms. "You're choosing them over family?" "Yes." He answered immediately. "They are my new priority, appa, I don't care if I loose respect, I need them." He sighed again, looking to the side before looking back to his son. "You know, quitting won't fix the damage you've done..." "It could be a start. I can feel at least one of them would want me back, at least." "It won't be that simple. You basically told them you're a paid killer." "I never killed them..." "What?" "I never killed them like you did. I harmed them, threatened them, then had Daesung take them out." He reveals, standing firm. "Really?" "Yes."

He stayed silent, he's never seen so much emotion in his sons eyes. His eyes danced over his sons figure, replacing the suit was a blue hoodie with the sleeves pulled over his hands with jeans and converse, a visual to the soft side he never knew Mn had. "Fine. You quit. You can keep in touch but don't come back if they reject you." "Yes, Appa. I understand." The elder hummed and nodded. "Go." He simply said and Mn was dashing out the door, desperate to get to the boys.

He knows telling them he quit out change anything but he can still try.

The door opened and Mn's hand shot out to stop it from slamming shut.

"I quit and abandoned my family, if that doesn't prove I love you all more than that stupid business, I don't know what else will prove it." He said in one breath without looking away from Chan.

"And if you reject me...I'll have nowhere else to go because my dad stays true to his words and won't let me come back home." He continued, his heart feeling like it was on a tight rope.

"I don't care about what he did anymore! I just want him back!" "Jagi, he's a terrible man. He's kept a huge secret from us after he promised to not keep any." "I don't care!! Didn't you see him before he left?! He looked shattered after Chan-hyung told him he can't be with us anymore!! I don't care about your guys' thought, I want Mn-Hyung back!!"

Chan sighs, head falling to stare at his feet as he leans his arm on the doorframe. "Um...Jeongin has been arguing with us since we got home..." He mutters, not entirely happy that this whole situation is happening.

"Can I see him?" Chan hesitated, an answer on the tip of his tongue before he gives in and looks over his shoulder. "Innie...Come here, please." "Why? You've already lectured me, I don't care what you have to say-" "Mn is here..." He interrupted his rant and the boy's face morphed from anger to shock as he ran over to the door, shoving Chan out of the way before jumping onto Mn, wrapping his legs and arms around his waist and neck, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck as he cried. Mn's left arm went under him to hold the boy up and his right wraps around his lower back as he buries his face into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Innie..." "I don't care." "I'm not going back there, I promise...loosing all of you hurts more then being disowned, I should've left sooner..." He mutters, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he hugs him tighter.

Chan watches the two, tears threatening to fall as he thinks of his next words. He left his family for them...He chose them rather than staying with his family...that definitely says something.

"Come in..." Mn looks up, adjusting his hold on the boy in his arms. "What?" "I said come in." He repeated and stepped to the side.

Mn walked through the door, being greeted by neutral faces and saw confusion in some of their faces directed towards Chan.

He lifts Jeongin slightly, adjusting again so his right arm stays around his back and his left hand moves to his thigh. "We have to try and forgive him..." Chan says softly. "Why should we?" Minho snapped, crossing his arms. "He chose us over his family...if we don't, he has nowhere to go..." "I have a family but it's not them. You guys...are my family. I care about all of you more than I realized."

Minho's jaw sets, think it over. That's pretty thoughtful if he thinks about it, choosing loved ones over his family. Well, as he said, they're his family, He doesn't care about his actual family.

"I'll forgive him...but unlike Innie, he'll have to earn back my love..." Mn smiled lightly, a breathy laugh escaping as tears filled his eyes. "I'll do everything possible to make it up to you, any of you. Um, except Jeongin, apparently." He laughed, a few other cracked smiles and Mn realized Jeongin fell asleep, arms still tight around Mn's neck.

He kissed his head and squeezed him in a soft but tight hug as he looked up at the others. A few didn't have angry looks anymore but firm ones like Minho, it wasn't until he looked at all of them that he realized two were missing. "Um, Where's Ji and Lix?" Chan sighs. "Well...Jeongin isn't the only one that ended up missing you. Actually, we all missed you but they're the ones that got over the situation quicker."

"Can I see them?" "Sure, they're in Ji's room." He readjusted his hold on Jeongin, going to transfer him to Chan when he whines and holds on tighter. Mn sighs before just taking him to the room as well.

He opens the door quietly, closing it behind him before walking over to the bed where the sunshine twins laid holding each other, Mn's heart breaking at visible tear stains. With one hand, he managed to lift the blankets and lay Jeongin in front of Felix who was the little spoon with Han.

Felix's eyes flutter open at the movement. "Innie?" He mutters before his eyes focus further in the dark. "Mn!" He whispered excitedly, carefully maneuvering himself out of the cuddle pile to throw himself at Mn. "You're actually back." "Appa let me quit, I'm just glad Chan let me stay, I'd have nowhere else to go if he didn't." "We won't let you leave again, you hear? We got home and it felt so empty. We missed you." He leans back, kissing your cheek before burying his face back in Mn's neck. "Will you stay with us?" "Of course, Lixie."

Felix crawls to lay back in front of Han, pulling Jeongin into his arms before Mn slid under the covers behind him, pulling the covers up before wrapping his arms around Jeongin's middle and hugging tightly. He feels a hand on his which are on Jeongin's stomach and with Jeongin's between him and Felix, Felix's around IN's back, he assumed it was Han as he clasps his hand with Jisung's. "Welcome back, Hyung." Jisung mumbled sleepily. "Thank you, Sungie." He squeezed his hand before closing his eyes and falling asleep with his boys.

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 13

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress

Oystein couldn't shake what Y/n had said about his music. She actually liked it. She wanted to hear more of him playing and now she'll never agree to go to another show. He wanted to be pissed off. He wanted to blame Pelle or the rest of his friends, anyone but himself. He hated not being able to talk to Y/n, or see her out and about. She had changed her shifts at the shop so frequently now that he never knew when she was in and Hammeed wouldn't tell him when she was working. He just said that she's got "things".

"How can you go bigger though? I mean the pigs head and bleeding into the audience is insanity but what could possibly top that?" One of their friends asked.

"What if you start cutting the wrists of the people in the audience? That would be crazy!" Pelle frowned at the suggestion.

"Yeah I'm pretty sure legally we would have some problems. If they want to cut themselves during the show, that's one thing but Pelle needs to stick to slicing himself up." Hellhammer made a valid point.

"What about bringing more road kill to shows? Passing it around?" Pelle suggested earning a nod from Oystein.

"You sick fuck, I can barely stand the smell of you guys day to day. The venues we play would kick us out in a heartbeat." Oystein laughed seeing Pelle find realization in the fine they received for the last bag they left behind.

Oystein's stomach lurched when he saw Y/n walk into the bar with a girl and guy with her. He hadn't ever seen her with friends and he wanted to assume they were co-workers but his lack of knowing put him on edge. He let his hair fall in front of his face so he didn't make eye contact with her. She noticed them immediately and walked past them without a second glance. After awhile, Oystein didn't care if she caught him staring, he wanted to know who she was with and why this guy was talking so closely to her. He didn't take into account that it was loud in the bar and that there was another girl with them. All he could think about was her being talked up by some random guy who looked like the complete opposite of himself.

Eventually he stood up to try and move towards the bar and talk to her but one of their crew noticed her finally and stood up.

"EURO LOOK! It's the buzz kill from the show!" He shouted. Y/n rolled her eyes and the two with her looked concerned.

"Maybe we should ask her what she thinks would be more black metal, Dead slitting his throat onstage or drinking the blood of a crow?" Oystein didn't say anything. He figured she would just ignore the question but she propped her elbows on the bar and sipped a beer.

"I think it's about as fucking stupid as cutting himself on stage and bleeding out in a sandwich shop." Now she had the attention of everyone.

"We've already established that you have no idea what black metal truly is. We don't play love and light. We play death and destruction." Oystein knew everyone was looking to him for fight and she laughed at him.

"It's sad you really think a genre of music has to reach people by offing yourself. Hopefully you have a backup singers list." She was tipsy and he didn't want to challenge her but he was on the spot now.

"How could you possibly understand the pure unbridled disgust and debauchery that goes into our world. You live in a mundane existence working two jobs and spending your time with sheep. Dead's connection to the music is his life force spilling out of his veins, breathing in the rot of death and spewing it onto those who worship in the darkness." Oystein preached, riling his crew and holding Y/n's eyes as she finished her beer, listening to his rant and seeing straight through his bullshit.

"Really? My mundane life is a product of circumstances. We all can't be financially supported by our parents, Prince of Darkness." Y/n slammed her now empty beer bottle on the bar top

"Y/n don't." Her friend tried to pull her back as she approached Oystein and made sure to step right into his space, unafraid.

"If you truly believe the absolutely idiocy pouring out of your mouth, you have got serious problems." Oystein breathed in her scent trying not to feel anything but he can't shake it.

"I'll meet you guys outside." Y/n told her friends who quickly hurried past Oystein towards the door as she walked towards the bathroom. Oystein tried to get lost among the crowd so he could intercept her coming out of the bathroom and she wasn't expecting him to yank her by the arm into a phone stall.

"Get off of me! You don't get to touch me ever again." Y/n growled.

"What the fuck is your problem? You ditched me, remember? Why are you coming at me in front of them? What point are you trying to make?" Oystein argued.

"Your minions called me out. I didn't start this Euronymous." The way she said his name stung.

"You didn't have to take the bait." Oystein pressed making her laugh pushing past him to get away.

"Newsflash, when you act like an idiot in public, you get what you get. Maybe control your little followers and I won't have to make you feel inferior in front of them." Y/n was getting under his skin and she knew it. He pressed her roughly into the wall and she stared at him.

"Why do you want me to be an asshole to you? You walked away and I'm trying to deal with that-"

"You don't get to treat me like a disgusting, worthless insect. You and Pelle and the rest of those fucks might get away with this bullshit but I won't be quiet." She gritted her teeth so close to his chin, he had to actively fight the urge to kiss her.

"You know you aren't like everyone els-" She shoved Oystein's chest hard sending him stumbling back into the opposite wall with surprising strength.

"You don't want me to make a fool of you? Stay away from me. Stop asking about me, stop showing up at my job wanting to know my schedule, stop putting my name on your fucking grocery courier. Just...fuck off." She finally walked away leaving Oystein still leaning against the wall, feeling truly hurt by her words. He had told her that all she had to do was tell him to fuck off. He didn't want to believe she wanted him to actually leave her alone but she said the magic words. He just didn't expect it to feel so heartbreaking.

[jackdraw-spwrite]

Fine, Chapter 3

Skin has two sides.

Words: 3188

Characters: Danny, Clockwork

"Your seams fit well together," Clockwork commented. "You won't have many problems with dust."

Danny wasn’t listening. He was staring at the hole in his forearm. At the gleaming metal within.

It hadn't even hurt.

Read the rest on AO3, or below the readmore:

More than that, he hadn't even felt different before Clockwork had pulled part of his arm off with a series of faint clicks and a tug.

Realization and horror were ricocheting around his skull, bouncing off one another and back and forth. If he didn't feel different now, then how would he know when he was like this for real? Would Skulker or someone else just tear his arm open one day and there wouldn’t be any blood, any ectoplasm? Just metal?

What if Clockwork was lying and Danny already looked like this on the inside and that was why he didn't feel any different?

No, Danny told himself. Frostbite had shown him the scans. They hadn't looked– they hadn't looked like this.

Clockwork was kneading his shoulder.

Belatedly, Danny realized a high pitched whine was emanating from somewhere near his collarbone. His free hand left Clockwork's cloak to feel at his chest and found a faint but distinct vibration beneath.

He couldn't muster even the dregs of horror at it, just a kind of detached and clinical note-taking.

I whine like this, came the thought, dilute. Before long it evaporated to leave the rest of him behind.

The rest of him, transfixed by the hole in his arm.

The edges of it were smooth, because of course they were, they were machined. Beneath, beneath–

Danny heaved a ragged gasp. Or tried to. Something in his throat ground unpleasantly but there was no intake, no air–

Clockwork covered his arm with a cloth.

Danny felt an incredulous laugh bubble up and collide with the grinding in his throat, merging into a twisting sensation that felt two degrees to the left of nausea. Did Clockwork think that a cloth would help? Danny wasn't a bird, he wouldn't forget what was under there just because he couldn't see it.

He wasn't sure he'd stopped seeing it, anyway. Wasn’t sure he ever would. The image felt seared into his brain, and–

Clockwork hummed.

It was not an articulate noise, but Danny could hear what was meant regardless. The gentle, deep vibrations reached around and through his panic and told something deep in Danny's psyche that he was safe. Safe, and protected. Safe, and that no worry need touch him there.

Safe.

There was an ebb and flow to the sound. Danny found himself following it, letting his mind fill with the gentle rise and fall.

Slowly, he let other things fill it, too.

The texture of his suit was familiar, the cloth of Clockwork's cloak soft where it pressed against bare skin and the line where Clockwork had cut his suit rough and chafing. Danny’s hand was still on the apron and as the vibration of his panic faded Danny found that the leather itself was unfamiliar. He so rarely removed his gloves as a ghost that he often forgot: touch was different like this, too.

His shoulders fell from around his ears.

Danny turned his attention outwards. The room was full of warm browns and golds and the verdigris hues common to the rest of the lair. It was full of colors that spoke of dust falling through sunbeams but there was no dust here in Clockwork’s workshop, no sunlight.

But there was a rhythm.

Clockwork was cradling his head, stroking fingers through his hair in time with everything else.

There was a song.

The thready whine in Danny's chest vanished completely, as did the urgent buzz of it at his fingers. In its place were fainter vibrations, sure and steady.

Tick, tick, tick.

But there was something wrong about them, a sour note.

Still wrapped in Clockwork's cloak and tucked to his chest, Danny frowned. Clockwork's own ticking was loud with Danny's ear pressed against his chest, and Danny's fell just a hair earlier than his.

Danny pulled his hand away, unsettled. He didn't like ticking.

"Would it help," asked Clockwork, "if I showed you my own arm as well?"

Danny thought for a moment.

"Maybe," he allowed.

It was no wonder Clockwork had pulled Danny's arm open so easily, Danny thought. Clockwork's arm came apart the same way.

Clockwork placed his own panel on a cloth beside Danny's, and then there was nothing left to distract him, nothing left to look at but Clockwork’s arm.

Clockwork’s arm, and the, the–

It was easier, looking at it on Clockwork. If there was a time before the old ghost had a clock embedded in his chest, he'd never mentioned it. As far as Danny knew, Clockwork's natural state was mechanical. It would certainly explain why he had such trouble with the idea that Danny might find it distressing.

But Clockwork's arm.

Clockwork’s arm, and the hole in it.

Danny shied from what lay inside, let his eyes find purchase at the edge.

…It was smooth.

Clockwork's skin had flexed as easily, as smoothly as Danny's always had. Just like his face, the skin of Clockwork's hand and arm had seemed only a blue version of something human.

But that similarity was only skin deep. Not even that. Humans couldn't pull sections of their skin off like they were disassembling a machine. Clockwork could.

(Danny could.)

Clockwork tugged at Danny to pull him closer, but his shoulders had gone rigid again.

"Would you like to touch?" he asked.

"Not really."

Clockwork waited.

The only way is through, Danny thought again. He couldn't, shouldn't ignore this either.

Danny swallowed, tried to swallow. He heard a quiet tk-kt in his neck.

His reaction to that took another moment to fight down, but finally, finally he reached out his right hand (his whole hand, his good and unaltered hand except that wasn't really true was it, all of him had changed…) and–

He felt at the edge of Clockwork's skin.

It was cool to the touch. It was smooth, like porcelain. Without the barrier of skin–whatever it was–skin, Danny's ghostly hearing could pick out a chorus of tiny clicks. Whatever lay in Clockwork's arm glimmered, turning, churning away in the corner of Danny's vision though he still refused to look.

He pressed, and the edge beneath Danny's fingers flexed like no porcelain Danny had ever seen. Even when his parents had accidentally brought Grandma Fenton's china set to life, it had stayed rigid.

Unlike Clockwork.

(Unlike Danny.)

Next, Danny poked the surface of Clockwork’s skin farther from the edge. It gave as it always had. It felt cool, as it always had. Beyond that, Danny was less certain. Clockwork was rarely without his gloves and shirt, and Danny had never cared to examine his skin closely before now besides.

He’d never noticed before that Clockwork’s arm was hairless.

Danny withdrew his hand, wondering if his skin would be the same one day. If the seam in his own arm was the same now.

"You may also hold this," Clockwork said, and picked up the panel he'd removed from his own arm. The hold he used was clearly delicate.

"Is it fragile?" asked Danny, curious despite himself. "Can you feel it?" He reached out and brushed his fingers over the panel, and found it gave just like the rest of Clockwork's skin.

Questions exploded in his head.

"How does that work?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, it feels just like your," Danny groped for a word, "attached skin. But it's not supported by anything?"

That earned him a pleased hum and a ruffle of his hair. Danny mumbled in mock dislike but leaned into the contact anyway.

It had been so long.

The thought returned a twinge to his chest.

"There is also an underside," said Clockwork instead of explaining, and tilted the panel of skin so the other side was revealed. It had a mother of pearl sheen and in its depths glimmered hints of etched symbols.

Danny tilted his head, and the symbols moved with it. Or stayed still. It was hard to tell. He reached out to touch, and paused inches away. Should he touch the underside of Clockwork's…skin? Panel?

"Go ahead," said Clockwork.

Danny’s nails met it with a faint click. 

He hadn't expected it to be hard. He had expected the coolness, though. And the way it was smooth to the touch.

Clockwork placed it on his upturned hand.

"It's light," Danny said, surprised. It wasn't just light, it was feather-light. He could barely feel the weight of it.

"Yes," agreed Clockwork.

Danny stared at the panel resting on his open hand. At the weird, isolated bit of skin stuff.

…At the piece of Clockwork.

Danny worried at his lip.

Clockwork was really trusting him here, wasn't he? Maybe not trusting, since Clockwork could see the future. But this was a piece of Clockwork in Danny's hand. Balanced there. Danny had a vision of himself taking it and whacking it against the table and the mother of pearl shattering and Clockwork making a sound like squealing gears and–

And it was so light it barely felt like anything at all, and with the underside on his hand the sensation was so like the ill-fated china that Danny could almost see a bowl, light and fine and translucent.

…It felt so delicate in his hand.

"Clockwork?" Danny found himself asking. 

"Yes?"

"What happens if I drop this?"

"It is best not to," said Clockwork after a moment. "Though it will not break, it may dent. And then we will have two repair jobs on our hands."

"Oh," said Danny. "Wait, it could dent? Just from dropping it? But…" Danny trailed off, frowning. Clockwork had always seemed much stronger than that.

"Ordinarily no. But we are vulnerable like this, far more so than when we are fully assembled."

We.

Danny was like this, too. Would be. Could be. Was now.

It didn't feel as precipitous a change as it had, at the doors to the tower.

Danny swallowed, tk-kt, and asked "What am I like?"

In lieu of answering, Clockwork plucked his own panel from Danny's hand. Then he picked up the skin-panel-skin of Danny's arm with the same grip he'd used for his own and oh.

Before, Clockwork had been too fast and Danny too surprised to feel it but now Clockwork was being slow.

Now, Danny could understand why the delicacy.

It was odd, a sensation halfway there and upside down, like a light pinch across his forearm but inverted. Clockwork set it on Danny's upturned hand, skin up, and Danny felt a light prickling on the missing part of his forearm. It didn't really feel like a part of himself, like this. It felt disconnected. Despite the feedback it was easy to think of it as just another oddity Clockwork had shown him, and the prickle at his forearm just the texture of cloth on sensitive skin.

He couldn't use his other (mechanical, frozen, jammed) hand. Not to move, not to feel. He didn't want to face that yet, anyway.

Danny tipped his hand enough to set the skin-panel-ski–

"What do you call these?" he asked Clockwork as he set it on the work table.

"Panels.”

The smooth wood had a different character to it than the cloth or his hand. It still prickled at his–at his panel, but the sensation was growing to remind Danny of a sleeping limb, like the interior of it was starting to wake.

Danny poked it.

“Oh, weeeiird,” Danny said. He did it again.

It felt like he was poking his own forearm. Probably because he was.

“Weird?" asked Clockwork.

"Very," said Danny, and prodded some more.

Eventually, Danny tired of poking the exterior of his panel and flipped it over.

He froze.

He had expected something like Clockwork's mother of pearl, not–

"Stars," Danny breathed, and stars there were.

Unlike Clockwork's, the inside of Danny's skin was dark, bordering on black. Inlaid in it were so many splinters of silver and gold and glittering gems that they resembled the sweeping arm of a spiral galaxy.

Or part of one.

When he brushed it with a careful finger, the prickling was almost gone. The curious inversion of sensation remained, and between that and the lightness of his touch it felt almost like a shiver leaving ant-tracks over his skin.

It was smooth. That was the second thing he noticed. Though he could see a slight depth to it where gems were set, and where tiny wires had been driven into it, it was as though its surface had been coated in several layers of lacquer and polished to a shine.

Danny tilted it, and dark ribbons of something like wood grain caught the light.

Beside him, Clockwork remained silent as Danny continued his examination. Something watchful crept in as the minutes ticked by, but he spoke only when Danny finally returned the panel of his arm to the table with a click.

"There is another panel I think you would enjoy seeing," said Clockwork. He tapped a spot just below Danny's collarbone. "I could remove it, too."

Danny turned the idea around in his head. But really, now he was curious. Even if he asked Clockwork to tell him, the specifics would eat at him until he forgot this entire thing. If he ever did. Even with his life, he didn’t think he’d forget getting turned into a machine by his mentor anytime soon. Especially if it didn’t happen again. He hoped it wouldn’t.

"Okay," said Danny.

This time, Clockwork handed the panel to Danny with the inside facing up.

The collarbone piece was a slender triangle, and it held the same rippling dark as the other. It held the same style of stars too, though the gemstones were far more scattered, the wires even finer.

But what captured Danny's eyes was the tiny image of the ISS, inlaid in gold and silver and mother of pearl and other, stranger materials that caught the light, that made it seem almost alive.

"The solar panels," Danny began, and ran out of words.

"Gold," said Clockwork. "Just like the real one."

Danny ran a finger over it. Just like the forearm piece, this one was mirror-smooth to the touch but he could imagine, couldn't he? Imagine being there…

"Do you like it?"

The question took a moment to reach Danny's ears, and then another to follow them to the rest of his head. It did not take another moment to reach his mouth, because the answer was already on his tongue.

"I love it," Danny said, and meant it.

"I am glad," said Clockwork.

It seemed only a short time later that the ISS vanished off the edge of the panel Clockwork had removed. Apparently, the material of its solar panels was not where the similarities ended; the ISS under Danny's skin had an orbital period of 90 minutes, too.

One last time, Danny traced the edge where the last corner of a solar panel had slipped away.

"Okay," he said, and handed the panel back to Clockwork.

Clockwork traced over the piece with his own fingers, a pensive gesture. He pulled a polishing cloth from the table and covered the interior with gentle circles before tugging Danny to face him with equal gentleness. Danny complied easily, thoughts on the feel of the cloth.

On the soft pressure of it, on what it felt like to be polished.

He'd never imagined that it might feel pleasant, like care. That it might feel like love.

The missing part of him felt a bit like it did when Clockwork cradled a cheek in his hand. Not warm, but soft and calm. Safe.

Clockwork held Danny's shoulder with one hand as he fit the panel back into place. There was a feeling and a sound like sliding glass, and then the panel settled into a groove with a release of tension.

Danny relaxed.

"Not yet," Clockwork said. "I still need to secure the clasps."

He pressed on the panel firmly, then took the other end of the tool he'd used before and did something. There was a click.

Automatically, Danny raised his hand to feel at the spot. It was flush, but as he trailed along the line of his collarbone his fingers found an edge that rose away until it was nearly as thick as his panel.

"Eleven more," said Clockwork. His voice had gone quieter again, and like this it blended with the chorus of Long Now.

Another click, and another. The pressure was regular, the clicks in time with the rest of Long Now. One two three click, one two three click. Danny let the repetitive pressure rock him a little. His eyelids felt heavy, his chest calm. As more clasps joined the first Danny found himself wishing he weren't fractionally ahead of the tempo. It would be wonderful to sink into the song again. To sway in time with everything else.

The pressure ended.

A whine of protest crawled halfway out of Danny's throat. Clockwork hummed back. He'd settled beside Danny again, and the sound transmitted from the barrel of his chest, reverberating deep in Danny's bones.

"There will be more when I replace the panels of your arm," said Clockwork.

Mind too fuzzy for a coherent question, Danny made a questioning sound.

"I'll need to remove more than just one panel of your forearm to repair it. The first panel was to introduce the concept." Clockwork paused. His next words were stilted. "I am aware this has been a difficult topic for you."

Clockwork paused again to return to stroking his hand through Danny's hair and Danny hummed, pleased at the contact. It felt nice.

"I am glad you like your panels," said Clockwork as Danny pressed against his hand.

There was a span of minutes where Danny simply enjoyed the moment. From the accompanying hum in Clockwork's chest, he was doing the same. But like all things, it came to an end.

"You have yet to examine the mechanisms your panels protect," said Clockwork.

Oh. Right.

Danny opened his eyes and sat back up, attention back on the table. The cloth draping the hole in his arm was still there. If he looked closely, he could see the spot on his arm where the cloth curved in instead of out.

The joy–and weirdness of the panels of skin and their cool decorations had made the whole thing seem a little less scary, a little more interesting.

Interesting, at least, when he could pretend that was all they were.

But the delight from discovering the starscape hidden on his panels was curdling back into dread the longer he looked at the cloth covering his arm. The shine of the metal within still blazed across his mind's eye, too bright by half. Burning. Danny wanted to see the inside of his own arm again about as much as he wanted to see the inside of Jazz's: not at all.

But the only way was through.

Danny steeled himself.

“Okay.”

[whatwooshkai]

ANGST

couldn't get this scenario out of my head. ended up being really long so I stuck it under the cut.

Heatwave's yelling, but Quint can't hear a word he says.

It's already been too long of a day, and it's barely noon- Baz had an episode this morning, Saint knocked over the tar, and Quicksilver fried the power grid again.

And now Heatwave's here, clearly in a shitty mood, and making it Quint's problem.

He's just a kid, he tells himself, lightly patting his thighs in an attempt to ground himself. He needs you. You've just gotta support him.

How am I supposed to support him if I can't even look at him?

Quint reaches out and grabs Heatwave's shoulder, holding him an arm's length away. He can feel the kid's too-fast sparkbeat thrum angrily through his frame, can feel the reverberations of his shouting. He still can't understand a word.

Vent in, vent out. Quint doesn't say anything, just leans a little more of his weight against Heatwave. What the hell am I doing? Why can't I-

Oh. Heatwave's hitting him now, whacking oddly thrown punches against his hip and torso. I taught him proper form, didn't I? He must be really upset.

Ooh, that one actually hurt. Shit. Just. Do. SOMETHING!

"Will you-" Bang. "-just-" Bang. "-fucking-" Bang. "-look at me!"

Something feels like it snaps. Or maybe it doesn't. Either way, it feels like Quint is underwater when he obeys the request, slow moving through a heavy-gravitational atmosphere. Lethargic. Delayed. Wrong.

There, leaning against him, attacking and looking for a fight, is himself. Smaller, younger, Quint. A mech who made so many mistakes, did so many things wrong, and yet. And yet who had the audacity to treat the world like it had hurt him. A mech he hated.

He stares down at himself, still shouting, hitting, crying out for attention, and says the thing he wishes someone had said to him thousands of years ago.

"WILL YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP?"

Something about all this clicks in his processor the second the ladder slips past his digit-tips, that he can't possibly be seeing himself. He's never been prone to hallucinations, and there's no physical aspect to that, is there-

Heatwave. Holy fuck, HEATWAVE.

It's like his optics blink back on- the florescent lighting of the training room floods his vision as he cycles his optics, once, twice, three times. His servos are shaking. He thinks he might purge at the sight on front of him.

Heatwave, trapped against the wall. There's a ladder, one of Quint's ladders, parallel to the floor, buried deep in the wall, trapping Heatwave's neck in. The glass of his windshield is smashed with the metal around it dented. Blood drips off the sharp edges.

He's used that move before. Smacking someone with a ladder then trapping them with it.

He could've killed him.

"Are you okay?" Quint's voice comes out staticy, and the ladder shivers under his servos, shaking violently. "Are you- oh, Primus, you're not, I-"

Heatwave's looking at him strangely. "You have to teach me that move," he says softly, awed, but there's a slight shake to his voice. He's in pain. Scared. His field isn't hiding shit.

Quint tucks the ladder back into his frame, crouching. "Yeah. Yeah, I can teach you." He offers a servo to Heatwave. After a moment of hesitation, he takes it, and Quint yanks him into a hug, careful of his chassis.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Or scare you. I'm sorry. Primus, I'm so- you're hurt. You're bleeding. Let me fix it."

Heatwave's quiet and stiff in his arms, but he tentatively returns the hug. "Yeah. I kind of... can't walk around like this."

"Right," Quint mumbles.

"I'm not scared of you," Heatwave says, voice a little stronger now. "I've had worse."

"You shouldn't be scared," Quint assures, then quieter, he adds, "you're not me."

The slight pulse of his field makes Quint wonder if he understands. He hopes he does. He doesn't want to have to say it.

[cynicalmusings]

Manga!Cyno being requested to help someone with a special case.

It's reader with a similar case like Collie (I couldn't think of anything better) where reader has some evil god remnants inside them, but this time it's much more destructive on their body and it's killing them/trying to take over.

When Cyno arrives he's told to watch over reader and try to cure them before it's too late. He's also given strict orders that if reader ever became possessed by the evil god while out of restraints, to kill reader on sight before they escape or harm others.

A pretty cut and dry mission right? Well...

He meets reader chained up and caged and feels bad, but still goes through with his observation and realizes reader only has less than a month to live before they die or the evil god finally consumes them.

While he pours over his books and desperately tries to find a solution, he kinda bonds with reader and befriends them through their small conversations (which is usually reader asking about the outside world, how close he is to finding cure, or personal questions about himself and his homeland)

He really shouldn't get attached, but he knows he's lost when he follows through with reader's request to eat together and he brings their favorite dish. It's almost painful to watch them scoff it down still shackled in chains ... and then he asks the most regrettable question he could because he knows he's in too deep when he asks.

"Do you... want to go into town?"

once he asks that, there’s no going back. archons, he’d never trade the way you looked at him—the way your face just brightened—for the world.

“really?”

cyno nods, hating himself for it. “yes. i will take you there, if you want to go.”

you breathe a laugh incredulity. “will… will you take these off?” you lift up your wrists, which are bound by metal shackles to the wall.

he nods again. if anything goes wrong, he’s confident that he can subdue you before you cause damage.

you chew on your lip. “as much as i appreciate it, are you sure it’s a good idea? i mean, i am chained up here for a reason.”

“i will make sure nothing happens,” he says, and with such blunt confidence that you can’t help but believe him.

“so… when should we go?”

“tomorrow, perhaps.”

a grin spreads across your face. he could almost forget that you’re not chained up in some dark cellar or that he doesn’t know if he can save you, but rather normal people living normal lives and spending normal time together.

you notice the way cyno’s expression has darkened. cautiously, you speak his name. his head snaps up.

“are you okay? we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

he forces out a breath through his nose, shaking his head. “no, that is not the problem.”

“then what is?”

he swallows. kneels down in front of you. takes your hand in his. his eyes are like fire, blazing with intensity as he stares at you.

“i will cure you,” he vows, his voice low with the weight of his promise. “no matter what it takes.”