#also the way he was like god being the brains and face is exhausting im going to play a flunky

[chucktaylorupset]

Love zac oyama rolling up and arranging three free nights of crate boat escape root truly he showed up like i died in this city once its not happening again

[postmodernbeliever]

sick and twisted- fox mulder x female reader (smutsmutsmutsmut)

in a sudden bout of sickness, you are staying with fox, who is yearning to take care of you (...in more ways than one.)

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hope you enjoy this incredibly horny thing... wrote this as i worked through raging period hormones <333 (sometimes i still get a little nervous to post these but yknow what. if im thinking it someone else is too probably. so yolo)

my ao3 | word count: 2,906

content tags: soft dom fox mulder, fox mulder the top of every girl's dreams, domestic fluff, fluff and smut, sickfic, sick reader, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering & sex, plus size reader if you squint, past fox was a little plus size if you ALSO SQUINT!!!!, idiots in love, pet names, smut, pain relief, talking you through it bc he's a nice boy, cross-posted on ao3

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it was twisted, the way fox was turned on by you being sick. it checked every fantasy in his head off the list and you didn't even know.

by the time you got off work last night, you felt the brain fog rolling in, and you came straight to fox’s place instead of your own- and he was more than happy to oblige you. he wanted to set you up in his bed, but you refused, so he made you a little home on his couch, fixed with his good pillows and the blanket you designated as your own months ago. the man had been itching to come home all day. his brain was so out of the loop, in fact, that he handed dana a case report only half completed, with sentences stopping midway through. his partner had to force him out of the office just so he didn’t screw anything else up, but he couldn’t care less, because he was on his way home to his girl. he even went to the store to get you ginger ale and animal crackers, because he knows that’s your favorite remedy. and god, if you weren't everything he’d been dreaming of since he left you last. 

you were splayed out on his couch beneath a blanket, coughing up a storm. your nose was red and irritated from blowing it into so many tissues, lips swollen from all the chapstick and chewing; a glassy, sleepy look glazed over your eyes, and your skin paled everywhere but your cheeks, which were flushed in a pretty little smear across your face. you were in his old academy t-shirt, which left room to breathe- he was a bit bigger back then, lucky for you- and a little pair of boxers that were hiked up your thighs from sitting in them all day. you were the vision he couldn’t have conjured even if he tried. he wished that they could make a calendar of just you, looking like this, for every month until he died. but above all, your voice was the part that truly drove him up the wall. you didn’t think of the raspiness as much more than grating, but to him? gruff, weak, gentle, needy, undeniably brutally irrefutably hot- he had a thesaurus written just to put it to words. every word that fell from your lethargic lips was like music to his ears; he could listen to your stuffy breathing forever.

fox had been taking care of you, despite your protests to leave you be. you didn't want to get him sick, but he didn't care. he insisted on keeping you company and doing mindless work at his living room desk until you felt like getting back into the world. that was another thing. seeing you helpless and dependent on him, needing him to feel better… he loved that. he loved spoiling you, feeding you, treating you like a princess. that's what you were to him. there was so much in his life that was out of his control, that he couldn’t protect, but you were the one constant thing he could keep safe. the one thing he could selfishly keep. there was no chance he was going to give that up so easily, not when you were catering to his urges so wonderfully.

it was getting late, but you'd slept all day, so the exhaustion behind your eyes was keeping you awake. overtired and restless, your head was throbbing, and you couldn't get comfortable. the man heard rustling from the couch and turned in his desk chair, a serene smile on his face. he noticed you shifting awkwardly and came to the rescue.

"what is it, baby?"

you ceased trying to rearrange the contents of the couch and let yourself flop against the pillows, huffing in aggravation. "ugh, nothing. just can't get comfy."

"let me help you," fox urged. he rose from his chair and stalked over, kneeling dutifully at the couch's edge to help you adjust the pillows behind your head and beneath your legs. "better?"

"mhm. thank you."

"of course. how’re you feeling?"

"not good," you pouted, voice thick with strain, "my head is killing me, and my stomach is aching. and my nose and throat, too… i took some medicine not too long ago, but it’s taking forever to kick in… ugh. you know i hate being sick."

that childish pout had his stomach churning. he knew this wasn't about him, and you needed rest, but he also couldn't ignore how enticing you looked, all innocent and sleepy on his couch. how you trailed off between thoughts, working through the sick haze in your head. he leaned over a bit to rest his hands on your lower abdomen, pressing the heels of his palms against your belly softly. you hummed at the touch, and he had to force his eyes not to roll back.

"what can i do to make you feel better?"

"can..." you trailed off. "maybe you could cuddle me?"

"i'd love to."

the man climbed onto the couch without a thought, allowing his body to mold to how yours curved. you felt his strong chest rising and falling against your back, the constancy soothing as he draped his arm over your side, letting his rough hands drift slowly back down to your tummy. fox pressed a few lazy kisses behind your ears, causing the hair on your arms to stand up stiff. his lips were always warm, but with your skin burning up as it was, they felt frigid.

"too cold?"

"mm-mm," you hummed. maybe they were, but you weren’t going to jeopardize him stopping. 

fox was starting to disregard his better judgment as he tucked himself into you, feeling the feverish heat of your back. he was more attuned to the motions you made than his thoughts. the way your hands, so soft, just a touch smaller than his own, laid safely atop his wrists; how when he rubbed slow circles against your aching stomach, you made a little noise that was something heavenly, both hum and sigh; how your left foot ran up and down your right leg, feeling the fuzzy fabric of the blanket wedged between. he was so lost in how good it felt to be wanted that it was crossing over into obsession. he wanted every square inch of you to need his attention. he wanted to touch every spot that felt sick and nurse you back to life- to have it engrained in your head that only he could make it feel better, and no one else. 

so engrossed in his urges, fox kissed a little more, and what started as innocent turned urgent. he sucked softly behind your ear, nipping relentlessly on that sensitive spot you had. you began to pant, feeling the fever chills leave and a different kind of warmth roll over you. you pushed your hips into his hands, trying not to squirm and failing miserably. 

"oh, god," you covered your face with your hands. “fox…”

fox’s low laugh rumbled against your shoulder blades. the man relished in your inability to resist. his fingers began to travel down to your boxers, and he tucked his hand right below the waistband. he put pressure right against your heat and you buried your face as best as possible into the couch cushion, letting out a helpless whine.

"feels good, right, baby?"

"a-ah," you hiccuped.

"m'just gonna touch it, that's all,”

"but-"

"i can make you feel so much better," he kissed your ear, "make all those aches go away so fast, baby. can i?”

"please," you whispered.

he reached down and dragged his fingers along the fabric separating him from what he wanted, feeling the wetness beneath. his touch was feather-light, and as he gently wriggled his fingers beneath the cotton, you squeezed your eyes shut and scratched softly at the knuckles of his hand still on your waist. you were struggling to do anything other than lie there, but he didn’t need a thing from you anyway. eagerly, you felt his steady fingers brush against your entrance, and his lips parted hungrily at how slick you were.

"god, you're so easy, aren’t you?"

fox dipped two fingers inside you, testing the waters. when your hips rocked back into his, he couldn’t bite back the greedy smile that overtook his face. impatient, he pushed them deeper, feeling the familiar pressure of you squeezing around his hand. you licked your chapped lips, feeling a knot tying itself in your tummy where he worked his fingers inside you. he’d been away a lot recently, so much so that this was a reminder of just how long his fingers truly were. 

"mm, now how’s that, sweetheart?"

"it’s… good," you drawled.

"you like it when i touch you like this, don't you? y’like how my fingers feel?"

you turned your head to look down at where his wrist disappeared beneath your boxers, and you keeled back against the pillow, meeting his broad shoulder. you shuddered in pleasure, and he craned his neck over to lock you in a kiss, feeling possessive like never before. he tasted the minty vicks above your lip and moaned right into your mouth.

"my poor, sick girl… just need me, don't you, baby? oh, you just want me to make it feel better, i know."

you practically melted into the couch as he buried his fingers between your hips. skillfully, he maneuvered you onto your back and crawled up and over so you could lay flat; he anchored his arm right over your head so he could stare down and watch the bliss reach your rosy face, all the while never taking his hand away. once you started breathing heavily and clenching around his fingers, he pulled them out, dragging his slick fingertips across your stomach, leaving shiny streaks behind. when you groaned at the loss, he clicked his tongue.

"no whining, angel. i'm not done. i'm gonna take good care of you."

you watched through spinning vision as he pushed down the couch, crawling low until he could lean over your hips. then, with his big palms stationed between your thighs, he spread you wide, ogling your plush pink folds.

"you're so pretty, baby. my pretty girl."

he pressed a few kisses on the mound just above where you ached, sending shocks up to the tips of your hair. then, he dipped his tongue right inside. he was too needy to start with kitten licks, so instead he swirled around, curling his tongue like a hook, big button nose rubbing against your clit as he breathed you like air. you were officially somewhere new, somewhere out of your own mind; his tongue was so long it could've been one of his god-given fingers, so warm inside you, so deep you couldn't see straight. 

"mmm- god- i love you.”

your toes curled as he moaned all kinds of sweet nothings into you, feeling the soundwaves rolling against your walls. just when his tongue had you going, he moved up to your clit and began sucking so hard you started seeing stars. you clamped your thighs around his head and felt his strong, rough hands grip the chub on them hard, fingertips digging enough to leave moon-shaped bruises. you tugged on his hair, unable to do anything but feel him against you and try not to slip away. but there was no stopping the way you floated in limbo, surrounded by the way he made you feel.

"fuck, baby, look at you," he growled between your hips. "c’mon. let me hear that scratchy little voice of yours."

"oh my god," you moaned, "oh, y-you... i... fox,"

"fuck, that's it. is it good, love, am i good?"

"you're so good! so…s-so good…fuck!" you fought not to trail off, but thinking was hard enough as it is.

“that’s my job, sweetheart.”

he kept himself there, getting off on the way you bucked your hips against his jaw. it didn’t take much longer for the burning in your stomach to grow unbearable, and through trembling little spasms confined by his stronghold on your waist, you unraveled right on his tongue. he came up for air with milky lips after working it out of you for a minute, pressing wet kisses all up your stomach and chest. you felt so dirty as you smiled down at the sheen trail of cum prints in the shape of his pretty lips.

“good girl. did that help?"

"mhm," you heaved, head spinning. “need…”

"what? what is it?"

"i- oh..."

"use your words, princess. words."

"c-can you- you..."

he knew what you wanted. he saw it in the pathetic way you glanced from your hips to his, too worked up to get it out. he chuckled in a way that sent chills up your legs and said, "awh, baby. you want me to fuck you now?"

you bit your lip and bucked your hips in the air. he lodged his leg between your thigh with a smirk and you pressed yourself against it, grinding on the worn fabric of his sweatpants. he felt a wet patch soaking through to his skin, and he twitched in anticipation. you batted your eyelashes and let out a raspy little noise, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt while you moved. and when a sniffle interrupted your humming, it drove him right over the edge.

"fuck. you’re so cute, you little tease.”

he shimmied his sweatpants down in an instant and wasted no time, groaning gutterally as he pushed in and bottomed out. you were hot around him, pulsing like a steady heartbeat.

"fuck, baby. never gets old,” he swooned, pressing a gentle kiss to your chin.  

he began to thrust in and out, hips rolling religiously into the curve of your legs. you clung to his shoulders and tugged him down so he was stuck against your neck, breath hot. he began to fuck you faster, pressing starving kisses to your collarbone, and you arched your back, gasping for a solid breath.

"oh my god!"

"god, you’re so tight," he growled, “been saving it all up for me, huh? missed me bad, i can tell,”

"mm… fox!”

"you like it when i fuck you like this? right on the couch, where anybody could see in that window? say it, baby,”

"i love it," you croaked, gathering the little tufts of overgrown hair at the nape of fox’s neck and tugging them in a last-ditch effort to ground yourself. he tipped his head back into your touch and whined, and you gave a dizzy, darling smile.

"god, i love you. i love you, i love you, i fucking love you," he praised, timing every confession with a thrust of his hips.

all you could manage was a distracted, "m-me... too... ah!"

your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he uprighted himself and yanked you by the love handles, dragging you down the couch like a doll. he clawed at your hips, leaving red marks he’d have to soothe later. fox snapped harder and harder, losing control but not caring at all; you let him take you in his hands, surrendering until you couldn't take anymore, and suddenly the knot in your stomach burst. you shivered and writhed all around, whispering his name like a strangled prayer as your hands searched for something to squeeze. he leaned down so you could grab his biceps, and you scratched at them like a cat, a string of lewd things falling from your tired mouth. he came undone as you clenched around him, and his warmth in your tummy was so thick you felt like you could feel it in your throat. 

"so good, baby, jesus christ," fox wheezed. "you sound so pretty when you’re sick. can’t help myself."

you were nearly unresponsive. your head had never spun the way it did now, and your ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton, along with your throat. you couldn't form any words, all you could do was claw at his arms and tremble, face stuck in a permanent state of bliss. 

"feeling any better?" fox pressed little kisses to your chin and neck and eyes, and he traced shapes on your stomach to wake you up. "come on, princess, open your eyes. come back to me.” when you smiled and sighed, letting out an embarrassed giggle, he cooed, "there she is, my pretty girl."

"mhm."

"still feel bad?"

you shook your head sweetly, eyes drooping. "nuh-uh."

his heart swelled and he just wanted to eat you alive, so he did the next best thing. he leaned down and kissed your swollen lips with a softness he abandoned just minutes ago, swiping his tongue against your lips and all over your face. he kissed you with all the maneuvers of love he could muster, and you hummed against his mouth, pulling on his hair to hear those pretty little sounds again.

"you’ve got me so whipped, sweetheart," he purred between kisses, "just wanna take care of you."

"you're so good at it," you blushed.

"i do what i can." 

he kissed and kissed and kissed you into the couch, and all that kissing got heated, and one thing led to another because the two of you simply couldn’t help yourselves. and the next day, he woke up as sick as you. who saw that coming?

[sushiwriterhere]

coming home to you

summary: "It hit him like this sometimes, all tsunami and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds and lightning strikes, just how much he wanted you."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni - so nsfw it's not funny) pairing: bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!reader word count: 3.5k warnings: ass play, somnophilia (slight if you squint-ish), dry humping, thigh fucking, PiV (unprotected, pls wrap before u tap irl), rimming, cum play, squirting, no use of y/n.  notes: this is 1000% the most nsfw thing i have ever written so pls dni if ur a minor (srsly im not fucking around) and otherwise pls give feedback!! doing my best with characterization, hope y'all enjoy! my other works are here tagging: @sebsxphia @roosterbruiser @waklman - tagging ppl either by request or whom i feel like are horny for bradley soooo pls let me know if you'd like to be added/removed

He didn’t know when he had become like this, all desperate and needy for your touch.

When you’d started dating, Bradley did his best to be the gentleman his mother raised him to be: opening your car door, always paying on dates, bringing flowers, and walking on the outside of the sidewalk. He did his best not to gawk at you when your dresses cut low on your chest or when you bent over in front of him to pick up the bobby pin you’d dropped in his doorway. 

But it really was getting difficult. 

You’d started staying nights. Bradley wasn’t a prude or anything like that, he was human and he had needs and he wasn’t going to let some complex about sex prevent him from being with you. But there were things that he wanted that he wasn’t sure you wanted. 

It all started when he got home from a long day, far too long, of training. Mav had ‘shot him down’ more times than he could count, and it was a small blessing that each of the penalties had been fifty pushups and not two hundred. Nevertheless, his arms ached and he was developing this nasty knot at the base of his neck that made him want to never put a helmet on again. 

When he pushed open his front door, he could hear you bustling in the kitchen, clearly having come over to make dinner. Your jacket was thrown over the back of the couch, your keys in the bowl by the door–god it almost seemed too good to be true to his exhaustion-addled brain. He moved on autopilot as he dropped his bag in the laundry room and made his way to you. 

Standing in front of the stove, you were stirring something that smelled like tomatoes and basil and everything heavenly, all the while softly singing along to whatever your phone was playing. 

“Bradley! You startled me.” You jumped as his arms wrapped around your midsection and his forehead came to rest on your shoulder, “Missed you while you were at work.”

All he felt like he could do was to just stand there, borderline useless, as you threaded one perfectly manicured hand into his hair and continued stirring with the other. Your nails felt like heaven scratching at his scalp, sending tingles down his spine. God he wanted you so badly. 

It hit him like this sometimes, all tsunami and three-hundred-mile-an-hour winds and lightning strikes, just how much he wanted you. It was in the mundane moments mostly–watching you cook, your focused face when you were reading a work email. He didn’t think it would ever stop stealing his breath. 

“Bad day.” He mumbled, leaning his weight into you as you leaned yours into him.

He let himself follow your gentle, but stunted, shuffle around the kitchen as you salted the pasta water and threw more spices into the sauce. 

“Can I help make it better?” 

The complete pureness and kindness in your voice made Bradley feel a little nuts–because that’s just who you were. So giving and open, always there to support him, always there to listen to him rant about his latest spat with Mav or worry about another deployment. 

Now it wasn’t like Bradley was just leaving you hanging, but the near-perfect ebb and flow of your relationship made his chest ache. It also made that terrible possessive thing in his chest bare its teeth and whisper dark thoughts. It was the part of him that wanted to hide you away from prying eyes, that bared its teeth when men let their heads follow you across a room. 

He’d met you at the Hard Deck. You were new in town and looking for somewhere not too fancy, not too dive-y. You wore this sundress that Bradley knew he’d remember for the rest of his life, and you’d been all teeth and crinkled eyes when you smiled at how he played the piano. He didn’t play the piano for female attention, but when you looked at him like that, well, maybe it didn’t hurt. 

You were a bit of a social butterfly, introducing yourself as someone who was looking for friends and did anyone know of the best taco place in town and would the pilots maybe have any beer recommendations? He couldn’t help but be drawn to you. And when you’d given him just a bit of shit about the mustache and Hawaiian shirt combo, it was over for him. 

Your relationship progressed at just the pace Bradley preferred–first date he had dropped you off with a chaste kiss on the cheek. On the second date you’d surprised him just a bit by pulling him in by the collar of his shirt to kiss him stupid on your doorstep. You had straight up asked if he was planning on having you stay over before your third date; you wanted to bring your overnight supplies and really you liked being prepared. 

Now here he was, with his nose tucked into your neck, back slightly aching from the angle, inhaling what was uniquely you. He didn’t want to come home to anything else on a bad day, or a good day for that matter. 

“This is making it better, even though my back is kinda aching.” He admitted quietly, and he was almost offended by how hard your body shook with laughter.

“Okay well, if you let me go, we can eat and watch trash TV then I’ll massage out that knot at the base of your neck.” 

Bradley would be a fucking fool not to marry you. 

-

About one Bachelor episode later, Bradley could feel himself starting to nod off despite his best efforts. He had given up a long time ago trying to pretend like he didn’t care, and instead embraced that he loved the drama and the cat fights. He was sitting on the floor leaning up against the couch in between your knees, with your fingers digging into just the right spot. He could die a happy man right here. 

The sensation of your fingers pressing into his skin, your nails scratching at his hairline, made something curl pleasantly low in his stomach. There wasn’t anything technically embarrassing about sporting a semi when your girlfriend was giving you a massage, but he still felt the flush in his neck. You had clearly noticed because you let one of your hands curl around his jaw and turn his head to the side so you could press your lips into his. 

When your hair tickled his face, he shuddered. 

“Let’s go to bed, yeah Bradley?” You cooed, letting your hands fall to his shoulders so you could push yourself to standing. 

The two of you stumbled slowly to the bedroom, the move slightly awkward with the way Bradley kept leaning on you but also kept trying to press his lips into yours. Stripping of everything but underwear, Bradley let himself fall onto the bed without getting under the covers. He watched you brush your teeth with one eye open, the bathroom lighting giving your figure a fluorescent backlit halo. 

When you made it to bed, you shoved at him, “Go brush your teeth, Bradley, I’m not kissing you if you taste like tomatoes while I’m minty.”

With only a light amount of grumbling and complaining, he forced himself to brush his teeth and complete at least one part of the skincare routine you had set up for him. He didn’t want anything in the way of fucking you tonight–as soon as dinner was over, it had been occupying almost all of his thoughts. 

You squealed when he used the remaining amount of his energy to launch himself into bed, bouncing the both of you. For a moment, he just let himself go heavy on top of you. 

“Babe.” He grunted in response to the pet name, “You’re heavy.”

Lifting his head, Bradley pecked your lips and pulled back to look at you without rolling off, “Didn’t you want a weighted blanket?”

Your pout made his head spin, “Weighted blankets don’t usually have bony–oof!–elbows.”

Ever the drama queen, Bradley rolled off you with a huff. You giggled at his antics, and the sound of it made him feel like someone had lit his heart on fire. 

The two of you settled under the covers eventually, legs tangled together with your face pressed into his chest. Your fingers occasionally stroked down his pecs, the sensation was slightly odd against his fine chest hair but it made him shiver more than anything else. You seemed so comfortable petting him and snuggling into him, so who was he to disturb that.

He felt himself starting to drift off when your lips pressed to his, plush and warm. Your hand stroked his cheek, as if urging him to just drift (don’t think, just do) and let muscle memory guide the way his lips met yours. And boy was he ever content to do just that.

Half asleep, he rutted against you, just giving himself permission to feel and feel good. One of your hands clutched at his hip while the other tugged him into a kiss at the back of his neck, your lips moving gently against his in a wonderful contrast to the way his cock felt grinding on you, despite the two layers of clothing.

“Can I—” He couldn’t think straight at that moment.

He was overwhelmed all of a sudden by all the exhaustion and frustration of the day, by the need to feel you and have you close. He grabbed at his briefs before yanking them down just enough for his dick to be free and he almost groaned at the relief. 

You were hardly deterred by how desperate he seemed, and instead took it in stride. But when you went to take your panties off, he stopped you.

“Bradley? What’s wrong, what do you need, baby?” You asked as his hands wrapped around your wrists to center himself. 

He cleared his throat, momentarily embarrassed, but overall too desperate and wanting for it to really affect him.

“Can I fuck your thighs?” He whispered. “I want to make you cum first, but after that?”

It wasn’t necessarily the wildest thing in the world; rationally, he knew that. But he never wanted to encroach, never make you feel uncomfortable, didn’t want to make you feel used. It’s just that sometimes when you wore skirts and bent over, or when you were reaching for a glass or plate on the mornings you stayed over and his shirt rode up over the curve of your ass, he could see that spot at the top of your legs where your thighs touched—and all he could think about was what it might feel like to hold you by your hips and slide his cock there.

You shivered and murmured that of course he could. He dragged you over him so that your legs were framing his hips and pulled your still-clothed cunt over his cock. Clearly you were almost as affected as he was with your panties sporting what felt like a decent sized wet spot at the crotch. 

But he wanted more. He wanted them soaked so that your thighs were slick with it, so that he could pull them to the side and let the bite of the waistband center you while he pressed his head into your clit. He wanted to lose himself in you.

Your gasps and whines were mind altering, the stuff that Bradley stored away for moments alone while deployed. He tried to let you control the rhythm, just letting himself massage at the fat of your ass and the muscle of your thighs. The broken moan you let out when he dragged his fingertips up your back made him grit his teeth.

He knew you were close when the steady rhythm of your hips began to stutter, as if the mechanics of the motion was all autopilot, whatever it took to get you there. When you came you licked into his mouth and tried to kiss him, but mostly just ended up sloppily pressing your lips together with tongue. Bradley didn’t care though, because the feeling of your soaked panties dragging over his dick was making him feel crazy.

Eventually, he eased you off of him and onto your side so that his chest was plastered to your back. He made easy work of his boxers, sliding them off and losing them immediately in the mess of bed covers. The thin layer of sweat between the two of you was just more evidence of what had happened, and the way you jerked from oversensitivity when he played with your nipples was another reminder. And god, just like he had wanted, the insides of your thighs were slick with the mix of your cum and his precum. 

Framing his hips right against yours, he gave an experimental thrust right into that spot he always stared at. He absolutely was not going to last long. Everything was just so much—from the way you kept twitching from the onslaught of sensations to the slight roughness of your panties against him to the way you twisted your head back to kiss him messily. All of it was so much against the smooth glide of your thighs. 

Bradley let one of his hands move away from your nipples to pull the fabric to the side, and he groaned at the sensation of his sliding cock sliding up and down the length of your pussy. You wailed at how the head of his dick rubbed right up against your clit again and again and he could feel just how much arousal was pouring out of you. Your hand shot out to grip his hair and he mouthed at your neck, tasting salt and something so distinctly you. 

“F-Feels so good, Bradley, always feels s-so good,” You gasped.

When you started thrusting back against him, he was done for. He scrambled to pull your panties further to the side just enough so he could slip the head of his cock into you, and the sensation sent him over the edge. Despite your orgasm, you clenched around him, tight, hot, and everything he had ever wanted and more. A few more thrusts and he felt his orgasm spreading to his fingertips, making his brain go fuzzy. He was sure he was babbling some nonsense as his cock caught on the edge of your hole and the slight resistance made his teeth hurt. 

You groaned at the sensation of him finishing in you, content to let him ride out the aftershocks with little stutters of his hips. Eventually, he came back to earth and that bone-deep satisfaction washed away the stress from the day. You two lay there for a moment, catching your breaths.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.” He whispered, easing himself out of you and helping you shimmy out of your underwear. 

“Thank you, babe,” His chest felt tight at your tone and the soft look in your eyes as you stroked his cheek when he leaned over you to climb out of bed. 

“Anything,” his throat welled up a bit and he cleared it, “Anything for you.”

Honestly, cleaning you up after fucking your thighs was the least he could do. After stripping completely and padding to the bathroom to clean himself off, Bradley wet a washcloth and pulled on another pair of briefs just to be comfortable. 

When he got back, you had settled with one of your feet flat on the bed, the knee of the leg closer to him slightly raised with one arm thrown over your eyes to block the gentle light from the bathroom. You looked so beautiful. The rise and fall of your breath accentuated your chest and you looked so at peace. 

The moment was broken when his eyes reached the place where he could see his cum dripping down the crease of your ass.

Suddenly Bradley felt very awake. Dropping to his knees on the carpet, he tugged you to the edge of the bed, and tilted your hips upwards. 

You were a sight to behold. Your thighs were still wet from where he had been fucking them and your pussy was glistening from your orgasm. But it was the way his cum steadily pulsed out of you, over your puckered hole, and onto the mattress that made him feel like he’d died and gone to heaven. He felt his cock twitch with interest. 

“Bradley?” You said softly, slightly confused at the way he seemed to be frozen between your legs when he was usually so determined to get you cleaned up.

His tongue felt like it was made of lead—he couldn’t respond. All he could do was stare as his thumbs gently pulled your cheeks apart so he could get a better view. 

The ah sound you made when he stroked his thumb over your asshole felt like a punch in the gut. The stuttered, gasping moan you let out when he finally, finally licked it could have made him finish right then and there.

“Oh god, oh fuck, babe—” For a split second Bradley thought you might pull him away, reject him in that gentle way of yours you always used when redirecting him.

Instead, your hands shot out to his hair and yanked. Hard. Your hips bucked up and you pulled his face into you as he dived in eagerly. 

Maybe he’d confess it to you after this was over, but this was the stuff that haunted his imagination when he thought about you late at night. Some primal part of him wanted to be the one to have you every which way you’d let him, and now that he knew that it was on the table, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to get enough. He’d come shockingly quickly into his own fist more times than he could count since he’d started seeing you to the thought of fucking you in your ass, to the thought of rimming you til you couldn’t take it anymore. 

The noises you were making were heavenly–moans and whimpers for more. He held your hips down so you couldn’t escape his tongue, his thumbs holding you open for him. It was all you could do–beg for more. The slick pouring from your pussy was overwhelming and the grip on his hair was borderline painful, but it kept him grounded.

“Bradley!” You wailed when he inserted a finger into your spasming cunt and curled it upwards in a petting motion. 

He didn’t think he’d ever seen you quite like this. When he opened his eyes, your chest was heaving, your face barely visible from how you’d thrown your head back in ecstasy, a thin sheen of sweat covering your torso. It was potentially the hottest thing he’d ever seen in his life. 

When he added a second finger, your hips bucked up so hard he almost lost his grip on you. But he could feel the way you were close around his tongue as it circled and gently pushed past the initial ring of muscles. It took all his focus to not cum in his boxers from the thought of imaging how you might feel, clenched around his cock as he pushed into your ass. 

“Babe, I think I’m going to–!” Was all you managed to get out before your orgasm hit you.

Bradley would never forget where he was when he made you squirt for the first time–there, on his knees in front of you, exhausted from a long day of work. The noise you made seemed to be torn from your chest as you rode out your orgasm on his fingers and tongue. For a moment, your body moved on its own accord, chasing and trying to prolong your pleasure. 

And in that moment, when he couldn’t resist any longer and reached down to palm himself for a bit of relief, his own orgasm stole all the air from his lungs. Leave it to Bradley to come in his boxers like a high schooler from rimming you for the first time. 

Slowly, gently, he pulled his fingers out of you, not missing the way your fingers flexed in his hair and you clenched around him. You tasted incredible as always, slightly salty with something else that was just so you. He’d never get tired of it. 

There was a moment of silence before you pushed yourself to your elbows, an absolutely wild look in your eyes, “Bradley Bradshaw you are a menace.” And then you collapsed in a fit of giggles.

He sat there, fingers half way out of his mouth, chest and face soaking wet with you, and watched as you laughed to yourself about how horny he was for you not even moments after he made you squirt. 

“Are you making fun of me?” Now he was laughing a bit too.

Then you were crawling over to him as he stood slowly, pulling him down and over you. Your lips pressed together over and over as you stroked his hair, over his shoulders and down his back. 

“You silly, horny, man. I love you so much. Let’s shower and go the hell to sleep.”

-

read the next part of this series here

[kedsandtubesocks]

omg !! your mando!baku thoughts i'm—

living for this au ! 🥺 so cute and such opportunities for angst 👀 drama 👀 forbidden romance 👀 pining !! i yearn for him goodbye akfhsidbbw

ty for sharing !! just wanted to stop by and say that i am in love with this concept 🥺

okay not even joking this literally is me right now because the absolute talent behind one of the best bakugo works and you take me the way I am messages ME?!

(also so ok I’m a big reader on ao3 especially for bnha fic so at first it didn’t hit me that you wrote it and then for a split second I was like “wait why does their name sound familiar- OH MY GOD??” So FORGIVE ME IM SORRY!!)

But lovely Willow oh my goodness… I really can’t explain how bright my entire being feels seeing your message I can’t thank you enough for dropping in to send something because I am just 🥹 and probably will be like all day

But yes TEAM MANDO BAKU!! AHHHHH 😭 he really does fit the role so well doesn’t he? Our chaotic angel queen @ofmermaidstories mentioned him with a certain green baby and my brain malfunctioned because he’d be such a sucker for foundlings

And okay…Honestly 👀 depending on how the current season of the mandalorian ends I might just take the jump and write him to deal with the pain™️ LMAO

For now I knew I had to leave you with something because you are as sweet as can be and i wish I could put into words and explain how much your message means to me so this will have to do, thank you 💐

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

The two of you would be stuck in the cave for a while.

“What happened to your damn shitty sorcerer powers huh? Can’t you move the dumb rocks?” Bakugo’s snarled modulated voice cuts through your thoughts and you sigh exhausted already.

You knew about his list of accolades.

One of the strongest mandalorain clan leaders that helped liberate their home planet of Mandalore. A war hero notorious for using not just a jet pack but also specially crafted beskar gauntlets that helped him fire cannon like explosions from his fists. He’s a smart strategist and commander, has earned the respect of the Jedi council for willing to work with your kind.

But he makes you want to pound on his metal helmet head with your lightsaber until it knocks some sense into him.

“It’s sometimes not as simple as moving rocks. I have to save my energy just in case those troopers come back.” You reply sharply. “Besides we both sent out distress signals, someone will come. We just have to wait.”

“Maybe you just can’t move the rocks.” It’s said so casually as Bakugo tries to survey the blocked off exit. The most childish thought rises in you to use his metal body to dig out of the rocks like an awful shovel.

So you breathe- inhale, exhale.

Thankfully the caverns glow from the tiny insects living in the rocks. It’s enough light that you can rummage through the ration packs in your bag.

“Come on,” you offer. “We need to eat something.”

“No.” Bakugo replies gruff. “We could be here a while. Can’t eat all that now.”

He’s right. You’re not telling him that of course. So instead you set your pack back down, close your eyes and try to mediate. But his awfully loud boots stomping around, crunching on every possible rock, makes your face scrunch frustrated. You try to plug up the annoyance leaking in fast.

“Relax.” You say to him or mainly to yourself.

Bakugo scoffs. Your eyes peak open to possibly glare at him. But his back is to you. The obsidian coated beskar he proudly wears is something striking. You even admire the beauty. You also notice you’ve been admiring his broad shoulders that seem to be even broader now with his hands on his hips. You shut your eyes fast.

You’re a knight. You’ve fought wars, survived training to become carved into a harbor of good and peace. You are a lightening rod for the force. You can’t falter, can’t waver.

Your stomach suddenly growls so loud that your eyes snap open horrified.

Bakugo’s helmed face even whips towards you.

“Was that your stomach? Are you part rancor or something because I had my damn suspicions…”

You almost scream at him. You think the force itself might be giggle behind your back.

Embarrassment chokes your mind as you sputter to even think of something. Until the warrior sighs. Bakugo pulls something from one of the pouches attached to his belt.

More ration packs.

“Don’t eat ‘em all.”

You glare hard at him. He knew you had your own. But, you offer him a quiet thanks. As you munch on the bland protein cube you realize-

“You need to eat too.” You tell the warrior.

A moment passes.

“I’ll be fine.” A fast simple reply from him.

“You said it yourself, we don’t know how long we’ll be in here so you need to eat something.”

“And I’ll cross that fucking bridge when if we get there.”

As if the force itself decided to give you a respite, his stomach growls even louder than yours.

It childish and comedic and you can’t even believe the timing. You can’t help it. You bust out laughing. It’s moments like this that remind you this grouchy feral lothcat of a man is in fact someone true and human beneath the helmet. (Or at least you believe he’s human. Your mind wanders about what he looks like beneath the helmet more than you ever will admit out loud.)

“Eat you idiot!” You laugh but a part of you is already terrified that you momentarily just sounded like him.

Something shifts in the air though, faint but heavy enough to notice. Bakugo goes quiet and everything stills alongside him.

“I can’t. Not yet…not here at least.” Oh.

The helmet.

“Look,” you begin solemn, composed. “I swear on my honor as a Jedi Knight you can trust me-“

“Like hell-” he snaps interrupting you first

“Fine!” But you fire back just as fast interjecting. “Starve I guess!”

The words are sharp. You even hate the taste of them, a poisonous bile still lingering in your mouth. Regret already floods you, a wild drowning current. If the council had heard you they would have been disappointed. You’re disappointed in you. You need to be calm, leveled headed. But you know you’re frustrated, tired and…and you hate the strange feeling that’s been crawling on your skin, growing a festering heat, ever since you met this damn menace. So you sigh, defeated and small.

“I’m sorry. Your creed is important, I understand that and I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

He doesn’t reply, doesn’t say a word. The silence, his silence, you discover is actually worse than any of his worst outbursts.

So you break the thick tensioned soaked air first.

“…if it helps… I have an idea.”

You move to the ground close to him. Then sit down turning your back to him.

“We sit back to back. You’ll sense me moving if I try to turn around, which I promise I won’t. But this way you can eat, even have some water and we can just…just rest.”

You can’t see his eyes even as you stare earnest and even a bit exhausted at him. The mandalorian warrior sighs.

“Fucking fine…but if you dare move I’m setting you on fire.”

“Fair enough.”

The moment Bakugo moves, settles against you back to back, your heart jumps an dizzying spin worthy of a star fighter.

You have never been this close to him, ever.

You’re surprised he actually settled fully pressed against you. His back is solid. The beskar armor is not as cold as you believed it to be, even through your robes. The flickering thought of the differences between your form and his makes your throat get tight as you swallow back something clogging your throat.

A gentle hiss of a noise comes. It gently cracks the air and out of instinct, out of panic, you close your eyes.

In and out, you steady your breathing, focus your thoughts to be mindful of the force. However, even as hard as you try, you wonder so deeply about what he looks like.

“Thanks…ya damn shitty Jedi.”

Then his voice, Bakugo’s actual voice unmodulated, clear and even more rough than you imagined, floats in the air. It gets snagged in your heart.

You squeeze your closed eyes tighter.

During the trials to become a knight, your mentors explained repeatedly that the oath, this path, would be difficult. The temptations would be many and they would be strong. You were taught so many ways to fight and be victorious. But you now fear how hard it might be to fight against the temptation growing in you. Because how are you to win against a warrior considered one of the greatest in the galaxy…

Because you realize slowly, then all at once-

Why did you not just offer to close your eyes? Why was your first instinct to offer sitting as close to him as you could?

[vampsickle]

rockstar. ☆ ( dmc3 ) dante

☆ tags - fem!reader, use of petnames, not rly rough? maybe kind of, rockstar 3dante is so sexy, you both fuck in a bathroom sorry, unprotected sex, dirty talk, no plot..

☆ wc - 2.4k

☆ a/n - i saw this art of dante as a guitarist and my brain short circuited tbh. hes so sexy :( sorry im only writing for 3dante but im also not bc the lack of 3dante smut is criminal !! anyway. enjoy or dont. i run out of ideas fast so nvr forget request are open -_- and it doesnt just have to be dmc.. im open for whateva! also not proofread i wrote this at like 2am gn

☆ synopsis - you’ve been a big fan of a certain rock band, fixated on the lead guitarist: dante. when you arrive at the concert, you get to see said guitarist, and maybe receive more from him.

Dante’s been touring around the country for a while now. It’s no surprise he’s the latest heart throb, with his long hair— which is also the color of snow, and his beautiful blue eyes which would capture the entire audience. His guitar skills are no joke. Honestly, he’s probably more popular than the band itself. Dante and his band had arrived in tour state, and you bought tickets for the concert just in time, all while thinking up a plan to meet him. And maybe get him in bed.

You’ve been telling your friends about this for months now, how you’ll meet him at his tour bus, looking all cute— and he couldn’t refuse you. At least, that’s how you’d hope it play out. He was around your age, anyway. And guys like him are always desperate for something. Being a rockstar like him, with no breaks, just making music and not even getting to go home to someone you love must be exhausting.

You make yourself sad thinking of it, so you stop, instead focusing on how pretty he is. Your small radio plays their songs and you hum along as you apply your makeup. 

It’s been about an hour deciding on your outfit- - so you put on a black mini skirt with black sheer stockings, and some black arm sleeves with small opaque roses sewn into them. Your nails are painted red, Dante’s favorite color. 

At least— that’s what he said in an interview. His brother, Vergil, liked the color blue. They are twins, you suddenly remember. But both their voices are so different from each other and so is their clothing. 

-

Your friend picked you up around 8pm, just thirty minutes before the concert. The night chill hits you and your uncovered skin erupts in goose bumps. Luckily you aren’t waiting too long before hopping in your friend’s car. She beams at you, excitedly babbling about the band, even more excited over the fact that you’ll both get autographs from the band members. You’re just as excited, except not only excited for the concert and autographs, but for your little plan as well. At least— If it all works. Hopefully Dante won’t think you’re some creep and put a restraining order on you. The though itself freaks you out.

Upon arriving, you and your friend breeze through the line, not bringing any bags. Besides— what for? You kept your cards in your pockets just so you could buy some water. You’re both hopping together in excitement, making your way into the venue, hurrying to your assigned seats. Unfortunately neither of you had the money to get into the mosh pit.

Red and blue lights flash— and your eyes are fixed on the guitarist. God— he’s totally gorgeous. His guitar is so cool too. Now you dance and basically scream to their songs, holding your friends hand, and singing into each others faces.

——

It’s been about three hours, you feel exhausted from dancing and jumping, but the adrenaline rushes into your body when everyone starts rushing towards the autographing area. You pull your friend along, holding her hand tight so you don’t lose her. The unfortunate thing is, even if you do get his autograph, you’ll have to wait til everyone clears out so you can get Dante alone.

The line moves faster than you expected, everyone squealing and buzzing with excitement once they received an autograph. Dante’s all smiles, spinning his pen in one hand, and chatting away. Strands of hair have fallen over Vergil’s head, his cheeks are flushed, but he smiles.. Well, he kind of smiles. Just based off of interviews you’ve seen with him in them, he doesn’t seem to be the friendliest person. That’s alright though, you aren’t here for him.

You’re starstruck when you finally arrive up to Dante, your confidence draining— but you won’t stand there stunned. No, instead, you lean forward so he could get a good view of your cleavage. His mouth dries up, now he’s nervous, trying not to stare directly at them.

“I’m, like, your biggest fan, Dante. Can you sign right here?” by ‘here’ you mean your breasts and Dante chuckles nervously, a rosy color blossoming on his cheeks.

“Yeah—! ‘Course, babe.” if he hadn’t been so shocked by your confidence— and boobs, then maybe he would’ve been up for more conversation. After all, he’s still hormonal, and doesn’t really get any action, despite what everyone thinks. 

Another hour goes by and you’re still sitting close to where Dante and the others are seated, kicking your legs and sipping on water, while your friend has her head resting on her arms— probably asleep. Then the line is gone, and they’re all wrapped up. You gently wake up your friend, softly telling her she should go home, and you’d get a cab back to your place. She reluctantly agrees, raising an eyebrow at your suspicious attitude, but she’s too tired to prod. 

Dante’s leaning back against a wall, drinking from a water bottle that he pulled out from their cooler. Vergil’s gone, maybe using the restroom, or he just left. You take deep breaths, inhale, then exhale. Sauntering over to the guitarist, you gently grab his hand, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh— Hey, pretty girl. Didya need something..?” you didn’t expect him to be so shy, especially not when he’s up on stage, screaming and running around, playing his guitar like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe he’s just not good with talking to people who are interested in him.

“Yeah, I do.. I need you, Dante.” 

“Like— right now?”

“Uh-huh. Can you show me what else your hands can do?” 

“Damn, yeah, yeah— sure. Not out here though,” 

You smile at how he’s nearly breathless, squeezing your hand and pulling you away, off towards a one person bathroom. His grip is so tight that it almost hurts, but you chalk it up to him simply being desperate. It’s 1:30 am and you’re surprised you still have the energy to even move. Dante holds you close to his chest and backs up from the door before slamming it shut, fiddling with the lock. You’re leaning against the sink, watching him struggle- he’s so cute. 

He looks so tense, his jaw tightened, but you’re up next to him again. Dante audibly swallows, leaning down so he could kiss you, captivated by you. You’re a siren and he’s a foolish sailor who’s answered your call. Or.. Maybe he’s not foolish. Just horny. 

“Can I show you how much I like you, Dante?” you hum sweetly, and he only nods in response. Wherever this newfound confidence came from— you have no idea. Now finally, you can get with him. Even if it’s in a public restroom. It’s pretty clean though, so you’re fine with it. 

You’ve lowered yourself onto your knees, looking at Dante with doe eyes, and suddenly he’s fumbling with his belt buckle. His eyelashes are as white as snow, just like his hair, baby blue eyes watching you— watching him. It feels like an eternity when he finally gets the damn buckle un-buckled, then he’s unbuttoning his jeans, his thumb now pressed on his zipper. The satisfying sound of the zipper being pulled down makes you wet. He smells really good, too. You palm him through his bright red boxers, smiling to yourself at the color choice, then tugging them down enough to free his cock.

His fingers are trembling and then he clenches his fists, your crimson colored nails catching his eyes, watching your hand pump him slowly. Dante moans softly, eyes half lidded, his toes curling in his boots. He thinks you’re gorgeous, and how he probably looks like an idiot with the way he’s uncharacteristically silent.

But he won’t be silent for long, not when you’ve wrapped your lips around his cock, your tongue rubbing along the underside of his shaft. The few veins on his cock that are pumping blood to his pretty pink tip throb when your tongue glides across them, and Dante groans, one hand instinctively reaching to hold some of your hair.

He tilts his head back until it hits the door, and you start to bob your head faster, making sure to breathe through your nose. He’s so big that you keep gagging when he hits the back of your throat, but you close your eyes, only focusing on him. You want to remember this.

“You don’t.. don’t have to— Oh, god,” Dante has to remember that the staff are still out there, and maybe his own band mates. This is not how he expected his night to go, honestly, he expected to get into the tour bus and read some porn mags and maybe try and quietly jerk off in his bunk. 

He cums faster than he wanted to, trying to think of something else, but he’s embarrassed now. On the other hand you swallow it all, or, most of it. A bit of it leaks from the corner of your mouth and Dante inhales sharply, using his thumb to wipe it off, his chest heaving.

“You’re so pretty,” he sighs, tucking himself halfway back into his boxers, leaning over so he could pick you up. You make an effort to hold yourself up, but he picks you up like you weigh absolutely nothing at all. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, rockstar..” your hands card through his hair which is so soft, softer than yours.. Maybe you’d ask him which products he uses later. Dante chuckles quietly, taking long strides to the sink, and kissing you so deeply you could pass out. 

Even if he could taste himself on your mouth, he didn’t care, it just turned him on. Was that weird? If you both had more time together, you’d offer more of yourself to him, maybe you could both get fully undressed. Dante props you up on the sink, then he’s greedily squeezing your breasts, staring intently at where he autographed on you. 

“At least I get to touch them now.. Jesus,” he’s talking to himself mostly, but it’s fine if you hear, your heart racing at how he toyed with him. 

“Sorry, baby, we had to skip the foreplay.. Uh— Can I still..?” 

“I wanted this, Dante. I don’t care if you tear up this pussy.”

Your vulgar words make him moan softly, so he steps back to pull down your lace panties, looking at your glistening heat. He’s shocked at how wet you are, face flushed just knowing it’s all for him, and he subconsciously raises one finger to run up your slit. Your entire body reacts, and you whine, wanting him to just put it inside you already.

“Yeah, yeah.. I know, baby.” he grins to himself, tongue darting out to wet his lips, and he pulls himself back out- jerking himself off a few times. Dante pulls you off the sink, holding you with one arm, so you wrap your legs around him. Suddenly his eyes widen and his grip loosens on you, only slightly.

“Damn— I don’t have a condom on me, baby,”

“‘s okay, I’m on the pill, please- just put it inside me, Dante.” 

His response is his cock pushing itself inside you, and your legs tighten around his waist, squeezing his biceps. You both moan at the sensation, and once Dante bottoms out he relishes the feeling of you. 

“You’re gonna make me cum, already, pretty girl.” you can’t respond, still processing all of this, so Dante begins to thrust inside you. Both of his hands squeeze and fondle your ass, instead using you, like you were his own flesh light. Maybe you were okay with that. He takes a couple steps back to lean against the wall, holding you tight, continuing to move you back and forth on his cock. 

Dante buries his face into your tits, moaning and biting at the fabric of your shirt, his nails digging into your ass whenever you tug on his hair. 

Now he’s moving you again, pulling you off of him which makes you cry out softly, bending you over the sink. He shushes you, rubbing himself along your dripping heat, aggressively slamming his hands on the sink to hold himself there. Dante’s planting soft kisses to your temple as he thrusts back inside of you, your walls constricting around him, his hips slapping against your ass. Your mascara runs down your cheeks, makeup absolutely ruined, your lipstick smeared. But he’s just as bad, beads of sweat forming on his forehead, his arms tingling, plus he’s moaning and panting like a dog in heat.

“You’re my— fuck- my favorite, oh—“ he gasps, thrusts messy and uncoordinated, slamming into you with no remorse. 

“Am I your favorite, baby? I wanna hear you say it,” his teeth grit at the last part, trying to hold on, but the way you’re squeezing around him makes Dante lose it. 

“Yes! Dante— you’re my- my favorite!” you sob and writhe underneath him, shakily moving your arm to furiously rub your own clit, as Dante chases his own high. When he opens his eyes and gets a good look at your fucked out face in the mirror, he throws his head back and shoots himself inside you. You cum shortly after him, both of you panting hard, attempting to catch your breaths. 

He doesn’t want to pull out, wanting to stay in your welcoming heat, resting his forehead against the back of your head. Finally, he pulls out, and the both of you whimper at the loss of each other. 

“Hey.. Let- let me clean you up..” Dante spoke quietly, stumbling to get some toilet paper, gently wiping the cum that was leaking out of you. You jerk away from his touch, but he holds your thigh, pulling your panties up for you. What a gentleman.

You’re pretty sure that your voice is completely broken, and you’re also hoping no one heard the both of you. Smoothing your skirt, you fall into Dante’s arms, teary eyes gazing into his tired ones. 

“Can I come with you, Dante? I’ll be a real good girl, promise..” you croak, and he smiles, cupping your cheek. He kisses you, softly now, and you both smell like sweat and sex, but who cares. Dante didn’t think he was this emotional, already attached to a girl he had sex with in a public restroom, but you’re just as attached— maybe more.

There’s an angry knock on the door. 

“Are you both done? I’ve been waiting for 40 minutes, Dante. Get out.” Vergil’s voice makes your ears burn— had he heard everything the both of you were up to?

Dante carefully unlocks the door and hesitantly opens it, still holding you close, a goofy grin on his flushed face.

“Oh.. Hey, Verge! Didn’t know you were still here. So, listen, uh..”

You give a small wave, a tired, but lopsided smile on your features. 

“Can she come with us?” 

[roachemoji]

Stranger Things - Season 3 thread 03 01

LETS GO GIRLS!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay okay okay starting off strong 1984 i see you i see you all these bald men are so sweaty and shiny and exhausted looking.

OH THE VFX BUDGET WENT UP BABBBEYYY OH LOOK AT THAT SHIT THATS COOL AS FUCK

So El isnt the one who opened the gate OG?? Really sick that they needed that much power to do it only forit to backfire and some little girl could do it with ease - OUFH SORRY TO THE BITCHES WHO JUST GOT EXPLODED

i understand why the bald men are sweaty and exhausted looking

SO WHY DO THEY WANT TO GET IN THERE SO BAD!!!!! OH THIS IS THE RUSSIAN PLOT PART YEAHHH

is this like ....... wanting to win the coldwar type shit??? because we're past the space race and into the 80s.... (<- guy who doesnt know much about this specific subject of history tbh)

EL LOOKS SO GOOD - fucking hate seeing them kiss im so sorry it makes me so uncomfortable - FEELING REAL HOPPER THOUGH LIKE ITS ICKY but also damn KING GIVE UR KID SPACE

i fucking LOVE THE shift in colours in this season !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LIKE ITS SO BRIGHT I LOVE IT!!!! AND STEVEEEE!!!!!! AND I FINALLY GET TO MEET ROBIN!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh this movie is foreshadowing some shit i can feel it. labesq SHIT!!!!!!! AND THEN THE POWER GOING OUT!!!!!!!!!!! this means things my brain is too small to make proper connections

OH SHIT LITTLE ME!!!!!!!

YEAH SEE Lost smoke monster !!!!! somethings thers i just know it

"im not gonna fall in love" "ok"

JOYCE MY BELOVED

booOOOOOBBBBBBBB!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DUSTIIINNNNNNNNNN

<- guy whose just REALLY EXCITED TO SEE THEIR FAV LITTLE MAN

GIRLIES WHO ARE WE LOOKING COOL FOR IM -

thought it waas gonna be gay forgot Billy existed

HOPPER IS ACTUALLY A FUCKING INCEL IM CRYING ITS BEEN LIKE 20 MINUTIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KING OH MY GOD SHUT UP rooted for you but nah youve really always been like this

A Heart to Heart? What is that? <- man whose never been shown compassion???? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DONT KNOW WHAT THAT IS shut up

ngl tho me n hopper shaking hands how to you approach people about things without people helping you write shit out word for word

this entire board roOM REMINDS ME OF THE BEGINNING OF SEASON 2 OF FARGO - but she a woman TYPE SHIT AKSHJD

Nancy is. trying so HARD and girl i am so sorry

HIS GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THE WAY HE TALKS ABOUT HER <3333

Steve. i got nothing to add he just. wow

ROBIN I LOVE HER I L OVE THE PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS ON THIS SHOW!!!!!!!!!!!!

Its romantic <- jealousy

Its gross <- somehow not jealousy tho sorry

Its bullshit <- jealousy

BRO ARE HE LLO WHAT PIED PIPER SHIT IS HAPPENING???? CRYING AT ALL THE LITTLE CGI GUYS LOOK AT THEM ALL!!!! THEY ALL HAVE LITTLE WHITE FEET THO???? THOSE ARE. exploding. theyre exploding. :(

ENOUGH OF HIM I DONT WANT TO SEE HIM I WANT TO SKIP THROUGH HIS MOMENTS I ACTUALLY HATE HIM SO FUCKING MUCH IM IN. PAIN. LIKE. OU GH. THE. SECOND HAND EMBARASSMENT IS? PAINFUL I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE THIS I HATE HIM I HATE HIM IHATE HIM PHYSICALLY GAGGING

LUCAS AND MAX mAKE me so happy and MAx is still transmasc coded in my heaRTTTTT

DUSTIN BABY IM SO SORRY YOURE HAVING A MY CANADIAN GF MOMENT BUTSHES MORMON AND FROM UTAH

SHOWING MomEnts of Joyce being so happy and gENUINELY IN LOVE WITH BOB JUST HURTS SO MUCH HE WAS SO FUCKING GOOD. RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE RAGE

oh now we have shit with MAGNETS and the spaceship space race cold war babbeyyyy

DISEASE RATS!!!!!!!

HOPPER ASHING ON HIS FACE KING????? OW?????????????????????

This is so uncomfortable bro my dad did this to me once and it was horrifically misguided on his part and he was making some wild ass assumptions about my relationship with certain people and oUGADHADKAJSHAKSJH this isthe season of second hand embarassment and its PAINFUL

MIKE IS JUST MA KING IT WORSE PLEASE SHUT UP I OH MY GOD OH MY GOD I KEEP PAUSING IT BC I CANT HANDLE THIS

HOPPER H ELLO ????

IM

THIS IS

BRO THIS fucking entire season is gonna be so fucking painfULLLL STOP STOP STOP like the. BROOOOO stop stop stop whose got a link to a breakdown of the family dynamics between everyone and how fucked up everyone is i cant even put thi sinto words im just losing my mind hopethis makes sense

SORRY DUSTIN I !!! GOD. PICKING UP RUSSIAN SHIT INSTEAD OF HIS GF SORRY

i literally cant handle this weird Billy fucking Milfs arc and i cant even begin to stress how much i fucking hate it and him. I have literally no room in my heart for that piece of shit

im SORRY to KaREN WHEELER THOUGH LIKE DAMN GIRL your mariage is in shambles and you really want to be fucked by THIS GUY ?

HA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IDIOT FUCKING GET ATTACKED BY FERAL DISEASED RATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CALLING ALL RATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

KILL!!!!!!!!!!!!

i know he fucking dies but iM GONAN LOSE MY MIND DOES HE GET FUCKIGN KILLED BY STOPP STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP THIS IS SO FUC NNY YEAHH HYEAHHH BABEY FUCKING GET HIS ASSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE DIE

[borathae]

chapter 15

Can’t you like it for me?” he says with big puppy eyes.

You look away.

“You’re being emotionally manipulative here.” shut up girl im loving u too much i cant

“You are playing with fire here, Bunny. Try not to burn yourself”, you grumble.

He chuckles and pecks your cheek.

“I like the burn”, he rasps against the shell of your ear, turning to the front afterwards.

SHUT UP IM CANT TAKE IT. try not to lose your shit challenge- mission failed successfully

He treated you so goddamn fucking well that sometimes you still felt the urge to punch him in the face and run away jk in the corner, i'll take that as a compliment

Lately the latter have become more and more. YAY

“Hey kiddo. How are you doing?” he says in a surprisingly deep voice for such a small frame. me with felix and taehyung

“for half a million bucks I expect to have the painter constantly working on it in a metal cage in the middle of my living room or something.” - ........ - a few bystanders had heard you and were now looking at you with weird eyes. SHUT UP THATS SOO ME except my voice would be low and nobody would hear but could be loud too cuz universe makes it louder at times when u dont want anyone to hear shit

although he was stressed and exhausted he never once smelled of alcohol. AHHHH IM SO PROUD OF HIM *gives a big ass hug and a smooch

WHY DOES NERO'S SHOULDERS LOOK FAMILIAR TO HER AND WHY DOES SHE LOOK FAMILIAR TO HIM AHHH STOP I HATE IT THIS CHAPTER IS A ROLLERCOASTER

again a fluffy moment after the tense thank you, her threatening to buy green and purple pillows PLZ that sounds like me trying to threaten my parents by telling them im gonna marry a cat crazy dude

“I’m not asking for it. I am very much anti punishment uwu i love this stupid noodle

He swallows heavily, “a-are we going to make out now?” he asks, grasping for your hips. he is such a cute and horny noodle pls and no u are about to cringe for the rest of your office time

FUCK GET YOURSELF A MAN WHO CAN FIGHT FOR YOU IMMEDIATELY

“don’t say that what the hell my cock twitched.”

“I am not going to apologize because I am way too turned on to care.”

He looks from side to side with the tip of his nose rosy.

“What’s with the sudden horniness oh my god?”

“It’s just that I never really saw you work before and it’s kinda doing things to me.” SAME HERE IM FEELING IM WATCHING SOME HOT CEO FROM KDRAMA BUT EVEN BETTER AAAAH

It makes his ass cheeks tense up and forces a quiet whimper from between his lips. SHUT UP SHUT UP HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MOVE ON FROM THIS MOVE ON WITH MY DAILY LIFE????? VANESSA HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE LAUGH LOVE IN THESE SITAUTIONS ??

I REPEAT HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO LIVE LAUGH LOVE IN THESE SITUATIONS??? JIWOO SOUNDS SIERIOUS OH SHIT NOW SHE KNOWS AAAH

WHY IS SHE CONNECTING THE DOTS SOMETIMES CHARACTERS SHOULD BE DUMB PLEASEEEE also why is there a group of people surrounding kook??? 👀

the whole thing was soo tense i sweated through my shirt now im a stinky kid -_- BUT WE LOVED IT the emotions was captured soo well and he was supportive yet very unsupportive if your brain's going haywire with an anxiety/panic attack

Twirling him threw him straight into subspace. *insert meme i hope i dont fall, her: twirls him kook : oh no mommy

the mom is sweet AND I CANT STAND THE DAD UGHHH

i prayed for her to not go to the mirror AND SHE DID NOO its really the worst thing to do during a panic attack :(

that was soo scary even i felt the uncontrollable demons while reading and thanks it ended on a good note and it was cute.

anyways i wish her a great day next morning(tho the story has ended) cuz them muscles be hurting like a bitch oof

Me reading through all your reactions:

hahahahha I love how you went on an emotional rollercoaster with this chapter jfdjsf also you quoting so many parts is my weakness hehehe thank you so much for doing that

BROORORORO THE TWIRLING PART WAS THE ONE OF THE FIRST TIMES I WENT "oh fuck i have a mommy kink" LIKE IDK IF YOU GUYS KNOW BUT AAOL WAS MY MOMMY KINK AWAKENING FADSFAHH

[hollyhomburg]

OH MY GOD I KNEW IT I CALLED IT!!! I WAS LIKE "okay jin is working late, but hes in the fbi and knows about yoongi, so hes working late maybe because of yoongi and the pack/mob," then "jimin would know whos in yoongis family because hes an assassin, so hes gonna miss someone coming in because hes not facing the door. who from yoongis family is gonna pop in" anyway welcome to my brain, sorry, you literally have had this planned out you didnt need my inner thought process hahaha. i absolutely loved this chapter, from jimin being possessive and the mc and jimin living on tae, to tae's poem, it was lovely. i love how you wrote jimin reacting to the poem: "i didnt know tae wanted to be beautiful" or something like that, just, your writing is fantastic and vivid and lovely, you write love and falling in love so beautifully. ive never been in love and dont know if i will (lmao) but this made me feel like i have been?? and the way that you wrote tae's poem is beautiful, it ties into everything about the mc and the love they have for tae and the love tae has for the mc. also the bar they went to was so vivid in my head, it was great. and JACKSON HAHAHAHAHAHA amazing, love love love.

thank you for two updates in one weekend, im sure it was exhausting and tiring and mentally not great, so thank you for all if your hard work, it has surely paid off. hopefully you can get some rest!!! thank you again!! i hope you have a nice rest if your sunday and a nice week!!

hmmmmmm this ask makes me curious what people are going to think when the finally find out what's keeping jin occupied 👀

i think one of the things that im afraid of like- for the characters- like when i tell you that Jimin has absolutely zero idea about tae being trans...Jimin has no clue. that reaction- that fall out- i at least wanted to like- start a bit of that thought process in this chapter so that it will be better set up, i know people are really excited for tae to come out and i want to do it justice!!!

ahhhhh i'm so happy i can give you the taste of a bit of love, the kind that we'll all hopefully get some day soon <3 ahhhhhh wow i'm never going to be able to get over people praising tae's poetry in this cuz i ngl thought it was kinda a little...less than it could have been but! if it makes others happy there is no reason i should be dissatisfied with it!

and ahhh- im taking a bit of a rest few days and letting my brain recuperate, im thinking a good rest activity might be to finally go back and edit the first few chapters of bily and really give them a hard read-through so that i can record the little hints of the story for the eventual explanation thats going to have to go on!

thank you for your lovely review of this chapter!!!

[herecomesmary]

I'd rather not have to deal with the misfortunes of embodiment. I never liked the feeling of skin, having so many parts, moving, bouncing, jumping, walking, breathing. So many times I caught myself holding my breath and gasping for air in the middle of simple tasks. Crying, oh my god. My face gets really swallow, and it takes time to go back to normal. I can't cry and pretend nothing happened. You can see it in my face. You can see everything in my face, my eyes. When I lie, I can't look directly at the person's eye, so I look right in between then, but I'm not good at it anyway. It felt inconvenient for me to have this human suit. My father said to me some times it's the price for being in this world, you need it to move around. But I never enjoyed the feeling, so the issues involving the maintenance. Drink water properly, eat - sometimes I would rather die than eat anything. I like to shower, tho, but showering is like I'm erasing slowly, layer by layer, this cage i live in as I scrub the surface. Hard. I also believe that has to deal with my self-harm. I started doing it so young I couldn't remember the first time I hurt myself on purpose. I can't recall how it was, I liked setting things on fire and needles as well. But the cuts came at twelve. It was one of the loneliest times of my life. I couldn't speak, didn't understand. After I finished cutting my whole arm, I stared at it for a while, the blood dripping slowly, super red. I remember I cleaned it with a small scarf that my aunt embroidered. It has stains till this day. Seventeen years later, I still have to handle that. Sometimes, it feels ridiculous. And I could never explain to anyone why I cut myself so I won't attempt suicide again. Why I cut my body so I won't swallow all the medication I could find in my house. Pain is the fastest emotional regulation tool I've ever found. Maybe cause I did it on my own. Trying and failing. It never stopped working, no drug was ever so quick, no psychological technique, no person that tried to help me. Lately, I've having long periods without episodes, but the last one was out of control in a way I've never seen before. I was at work, my belly bleeding, and it didn't stop. I had to leave. I came home to see how swallow, red, it was. I also had some blue and purple bruises around it. It scared me more than my arm how I could do that that fast. For some reason, the part of my brain that's supposed to be responsible for my safety started spinning like crazy. I asked for help. And thought about what my sister told me that I wasn't well, and how im not a regular person that can handle everything alone. I cant. I cant do many things, and that made me even more alone. Every day that went by, I saw the number of texts getting lower and lower till no one asked about me. It's a strange feeling when you know no one is thinking about you. I thought maybe I wished so hard to disappear i was succeeding. Maybe it's a good thing.

Since he died I fell like I'm hanging between this world and the other. I'm halfway. Its exhausting, pulling both sides at the same time. I have to decide which world I wanna be in, but just really, really, really, didn't want to be in a place where he's not anymore.

[matoitech]

i get word meanings change over time but that no one like can rly seem 2 decide what theyre using it to mean besides ‘i personally was not satisfied' makes it like exhausting to have to see constantly used PARTICULARLY in seeing ppl use it for media with actual lgbt characters or romances. but also particularly exhausting for shit that just has absolutely no fucking baiting in it and i dont eve know where u got that. seeing ppl use it to mean ‘i want media to tell me to my face when a character is gay bcuz i cant use my brain’ is INCREDIBLY frustrating to see esp when u write bcuz that is not how it works and frankly thats not how it should work. thats not even good writing most of the time its not natural at all. but even other lgbt ppl just refuse 2 put two and two together for media n think if it doesnt SAY a word and they dont kiss THIS amount of times and SAY theyre in love on screen to the audience its not a romance. thats not what romance is theres reasons ppl dont write romances like that !!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 like i get that there is so often background lgbt characters where the cishet writers think yes im doing something so Groundbreaking by not Saying it 😜 when theyre just scared of the word gay or think saying ‘oh their relationship is Transcends these silly labels’ is ‘progressive’ and not a specific brand of homophobia  but i just feel like a lot of ppl r so against like. any understanding or willingless to understand story structure or how characters or romances work in media that they just want a character to look at the screen and say Im Bisexual and it doesnt count otherwise. its tiring 2 witness. you need to get over that bcuz thats not how it Works most of the time and stories training you to expect that as the only Real way to get lgbt characters is like wildly fucking annoying  again especially when u r a writer. if ur lgbt acting like no lgbt [or other things like i see ppl treat shit like characters being disabled like this too for some reason????] characters or romances in media can exist unless they look at the camera and tell you, bcuz u want to have something to say AHA! YOURE WRONG AND HERE IS WHY BCUZ THEY SAID GAY ON SCREEN! to homophobes who insist those guys r just rly good buddies or whatever ur not doing urself any favors bcuz those ppl dont give a fuck if a  fictional guy says hes bisexual theyre gonna act like hes whatever they personally want him 2 be n what makes them comfortable, bcuz theyre homophobic. yes its nice for characters to say words on screen there r many reasons why ‘they go label-less’ is just another homophobia brand and its not great but like Please. oh my fucking god. arguing w other gay ppl on the internet abt if gay characters r Really gay is a waste of ur time. and calling shit baiting bcuz the characters u shipped together didnt get together is also a waste of ur time and brain bcuz thatis not what baiting is

[wizkiddx]

3 hearts broken

I did an angst thing again oops also not proof read double oops

summary: an argument between you and tom, except it takes him hurting someone else for you to loose it

warnings: alot of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) idk anything else except commitment issues?

////////////////////////////////////////////

It was an argument you and your boyfriend regularly had. In fact, it was the only argument the two of you ever had. And especially recently, one that Tom seemed to want to have every day. It didn’t matter where you were on set; in the rental home; out for dinner. Or like now… in the airport lounge.

You were sitting across from each other in a semi-private booth. Tom in his joggers and a burgundy hoodie, you in your black leggings and an oversized tee that actually belonged to your boyfriend. The rest of the place was almost deserted, given the late-night time of the flight. It was probably why Tom felt so comfortable bringing up this touchy subject in a public place.

You were both way past overtired too, owing to the end of a gruelling shoot. All you wanted was to get back to London and get into your own bed. Without an unnecessary fight with Tom.

Unfortunately for you, when you had naively said those exact words, Tom’s overtired brain skipped straight to it being a personal attack.

“I don’t see why you can’t commit to moving in Y/n! We practically live together for filming anyway so-“

“I love you Tom, more than I could ever express. I just… I can’t do this yet. I need… more-“

“More time, I know.” He grumbled, already standing and slinging his duffel bag over his shoulder - as the flight’s gate was announced by the intercom. Had he not already turned his back and started heading along the hallway, you would’ve tried to protest and calm him down. But thanks to his urgency to get away from you… all you could do was sigh. Slumping back against the seat before hauling yourself up and grabbing the bags - that he had helped you with on the way in.

No doubt this would be a long flight.

That it was. Tom had been maturely giving you the silent treatment at the gate, as you were boarding, and finding you seats. You were both in first class, so you had adjacent little pods with a little partition in the middle. It’s standard position was to be lowered however, before you’d even been able to settle into your window seat, Tom had already switched to button to have it slowly slide up.

Real fucking mature.

Thinking he just needed some time to cool off, you rolled your eyes but let him be. Even though you were such a frequent flier, you were terrible at getting any sleep on them. Tom knew this, knew how much you disliked the idea of being hurtling through the air in a tin can. Usually, he’d be holding your hand, entertaining you by watching a movie and providing a shit commentary over the top. Sometimes, when you were both as exhausted as right now, he’d even slide into your chair, having you perch on top of him so you could fall asleep listening to his heartbeat in his chest. Now though? He refused to acknowledge your existence.

Tom never had such issues flying, he was like a switch that could just choose to fall asleep at any and every point. Which is perhaps why it shocked you to see him still wide awake, staring angrily at the corner of his pod when you went to the loo, hours later. Thinking it was time for a peace offering, on the return to your seat you made eye contact and began to smile softly at him. However, that plan lasted for all of two seconds, since as soon as he realised you had seen him staring, Tom instantly shut his eyes - playing asleep.

He really was being particularly stubborn tonight.

By the time the plane landed, he’d still refused to say anything - and it was starting to really piss you off too. You’d tried to be mature, tried to offer the metaphorical olive branch and he had quite literally thrown it back in your face. So by the time you were being escorted off the plane (first because you were first class), you hung back from your boyfriend, wanting to have your own space.

Which was exactly why you didn’t want to give up your own apartment yet!

The two of you walked across the bridge into the terminal with a good 8 metres between each other. Tom didn’t bother to turn round and check on you, taking purposeful steps as though he wanted to get away.

Thankfully the terminal was quiet, probably due to the ungodly hour in the morning you’d landed at. The halls echoed only with your and Toms footsteps, the echo exaggerating just how far away you felt from him at this point. Still, Tom hadn’t acknowledged your existence, or anyone elses for that matter - the pair of you almost got to baggage reclaim before seeing any other humans.

And that is where it all went wrong.

It was typical, an otherwise empty airport except for you, Tom and a family with 2 girls. 2 teenage girls. 2 teen girls whose eyes widened to almost comical levels at the sight of your boyfriend. You’d seen them from a mile away, but from Tom’s reaction to them - he clearly hadn’t.

In fact, you were such a distance away you couldn’t exactly hear the exchange. But what you saw, had your heart in your mouth.

The girls ran over from the seats their whole family were sitting in, squealing at Tom with that overcited little jump you’d seen so often. Instead of Tom turning to them and entertaining them with small talk and a photo or two - he did the opposite. If anything, he quickened his cadence, looked as though he waved the girls off without muttering two words.

And maybe there was a reason. Maybe they had shouted something really rude at him - but fuck, the chances were slim. One looked ten, and one looked a couple of years older - as you approached, you saw the dejected and shocked faces melt into ones of intense disappointment. The eldest turned and hugged the younger, whose chest appeared to be shaking in a way that meant only one thing. Tom had made her cry.

Just as both the mother and father stood up to rush to the girls, you matched their hurried steps - getting their first.

“Hi, excuse me… “

You felt really awkward but knew you had to do something for these poor girls. And quite possibly for Toms career too. “Are you guys okay?” It took a second or two, but the girls clearly both recognised you too (thank god), throwing nervous looks at each other.

“Are yo-you Y/n?” The younger one asked, bright eyes glazed in tears which broke your heart to see.

“Yeh-yeh I am, what are your names?” You knelt, smiling warmly at the girls, who seemed to chirp up a bit.

“I’m Tima” The eldest spoke first before nudging the other to speak. You waited patiently till the little girl had wiped her eyes before replying.

“I’m Azara.”

“Wow, you’ve both got very beautiful names. Where are you both headin-“

“Can I ask you a question!?” Litte Azara burst out, interrupting you, but in the cutest and sweetest way. You just laughed and said of course, as she twiddled with her thumbs nervously.

“How big is the biggest T-rex?” Her little eyes were so curious and you had to suppress a giggle, seeing how serious it was.

Of course, the T-Rexs in Jurassic world (one of your movies) were all CGI. But Azara didn’t have to know that.

“Oh, they are bigger thanthan the tallest trees you’ve ever seen!”

You carried on your little chat with the girls for five or so minutes, laughing with them and exchanging soft nods with their parents too - who seemed appreciative of your time. Eventually, though, it was the dad who pulled time on the exchange, signalling that the girls had taken up enough of your time. As you stood up, Tima spoke up - after being relatively withdrawn from the conversation.

“You’re friends with Tom Holland right?” You nodded, subconsciously biting your lip to see what she would say. “Can you tell him sorry for bothering him, it’s just Azara was excited, we only wanted to say hi.”

Yeh, there was absolutely no way these incredibly sweet girls did anything to Tom. He was just being a knob.

“Hey, it’s not your fault at all. We’ve just had a really, really long flight, and he’s in a bit of a mood at me - I’m so sorry that he let it out on you.”

That explanation seemed to satisfy Tima with a nod, and with some final hugs you bid the girls both farewell. By this point, the rest of your plane had caught up along the corridors, so it was busier, and you had to fight against the small crowd to get through the airport as quickly as possible. Because you were seething with rage for Tom and could not wait to tell him exactly what those poor girls thought of him.

Unsurprisingly Tom had chosen not to wait for you in the airport at all, instead already hiding inside the blacked-out windows of the 4x4 waiting at the collection point. You marched up to that car angry to the point you thought the whole airport would notice. Yanking the door so hard you were surprised you did no damage to it, you threw your bags in - momentarily ignoring the sight of Tom huddled into a corner, staring at his phone with AirPods in.

But once you slammed the door shut and the driver started the car, you let yourself go.

“Who the fuck do you think you are!”

“Y/n can we just leave it for- “

“You made 2 girls cry!!! You were so self-absorbed in your temper tantrum that you made 2 teenage girls cry. You proud of yourself?”

This time he did look at you, eyes wide and confused - clearly not understanding. So you continued - laying it out for him.

“Those two girls you waved off because you were so busy running away from me? Well the youngest one cried and then the eldest didn’t speak and when she did it was only to ask me to apologise to you. You’re a fucking dickhead!”

“I didn’t mean-“

“Oh god, that makes it all better. You didn’t mean to make them cry on purpose, so it’s fine! God if you’d only said I’d-“

“Fuck off Y/n you’re not being fair, cut the sarcasm.”

“I’m not being fair?!? Because I’m the bad person in this situation, right? I just saved you from a very, very bad headline tomorrow morning because you were too busy giving me the silent treatment.”

“Yeah, well, your the one who doesn’t seem to give a damn about me!”

You scoffed hard at his words, air trapped in your throat that now felt completely stuck. How could he say that? How could he even think that?

As much as you hated showing it, you felt your eyes well up with tears. Because who the fuck did he think he was.

“Now that, that is so unfair. You know exactly my history and why I don’t want to move in yet AND you know just how much I fucking love you. So don’t you dare.”

“You're not convincing anyone.” He spoke quieter, but the venom behind his tone was still there. As the first tear escaped over your bottom lashes, you knocked on the partition to the driver and asked him, in no uncertain terms, to pull over.

“Congrats Tom. That’s three women you’ve broken the hearts of in 20 minutes. Must be some sort of a record.”

And with that you slammed the door shut, abandoned on the side of the road somewhere within Heathrow.

?a part 2? idk where id go from here aha

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala

[hornime]

home workout | bokuto koutarou x gn!reader

“i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

warnings: 18+, sub!bokuto, jealous!reader (i mean who wouldn’t be when bokuto, your goddamn boyfriend, is perceived by other people the fuck), also lowkey possessive!reader, lotsa licking and sucking, nipple play, some praise (from reader) and some begging, brief mention of dacryphilia, kinda soft at the end

w/c: 1.5k sheesh

a/n: bokuto brainrot has me in literal tears. him being completely clueless to people flirting w him cus he doesn’t recognize romance from anyone but you has me so soft. i luv this man w my whole heart !!!!! ALSO THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON THE BAKUGO FIC I JUST ABOUT SHIT MY PANTS WOOWWOWO

you weren’t an idiot. you knew that your boyfriend was attractive in literally every aspect of the word. he was sweet, patient, and kind, and what he lacked in academic smarts was made up tenfold in his emotional maturity and ability to read people. big and beefy, bokuto was all yours and all you wanted to stay trapped within his arms forever. unfortunately, to maintain the figure you adored so much and stay in shape for the volleyball season, he had to leave the four walls of your shared bedroom far more than you liked, having a daily obligation to spend a few hours at the gym.

once again, you weren’t an idiot. the few times that your work schedule and his training schedule aligned, you’d been able to work out together. and despite your knowledge of just how good-looking bokuto was and the fact that other people could perceive him (much to your chagrin) you were shocked at just how much people shamelessly flirted with him. 

cute girls with matching leggings and sports bras practically clung to his biceps, gushing about how strong he was and how he could probably pick them up with just one hand. their incessant giggling, mesmerizing hair twirling, and teasing touches pissed you off to no end, and you’d tug your boyfriend away before their breasts got too close to him for your liking.

something else you noticed was that, no matter how blatantly obvious the girls seemed to be, the guys were somehow worse, flirting through terms you couldn’t even understand. they compared deadlift weights, bicep curls, hip thrusts; you gritted your teeth thinking about whether they’d ever compared cock sizes in the locker room—you wouldn’t put it past those thirsty gym rats. sneaky bastards.

and bokuto, of course, was oblivious to it all. how could you blame him—he was so used to being adored! you knew that, to him, all of their praises paled in comparison to yours, but you couldn’t help but feel jealous. he was all yours—should be all yours—and you hated sharing him with the world.

you woke up saturday morning with a ringing in your ears, hand smacking the nightstand trying to turn off that god-awful alarm noise, bleary eyes barely able to focus on the text notification from your boyfriend.

[5:33 AM] kou: gm babe!!!! i didnt wanna wake u up cus u looked so peaceful! im heading to the gym rn. text me when ur up! love uu

[5:34 AM] kou: should be home around 9!! gym bud wants to show me something so i might be a little late for breakfast.

just to reiterate, you weren’t an idiot. for all the annoying flirting you noticed when you were with bokuto, there was no doubt in your mind that there must be a lot more when he was at the gym alone, which, unluckily for you, was most of the time since he was a freakin’ pro athlete and all.

you couldn’t prevent the pool of envy from swirling in your gut. gym bud? are you serious? who could that be? the girl with the arm tat or the dude with the dreads? no, maybe its that yoga instructor with the ass—

you shook your head, clearing your brain. you’d be here for hours if you went through everyone at that stupid gym that had ever shown interest in bokuto. the clock read 9:53 AM and the green flame in your body only burned brighter. just as you were about to call him and ask where he was, the front door slammed open.

“babe! i’m home!”

you silently put your phone down, teeth still clenching in jealousy. for some reason, hearing his voice only exacerbated the tension in your shoulders. you needed him. now.

“babe?” his voice creeped closer as he tread through the hallway towards the room. “you up?”

you peeked your head out of the doorframe, cheery voice masking your devilish intentions, “kou!"

his eyes brightened as he made eye contact with you and flashed his trademark smile. “hey! what’s u-” he took in the mischievous glint in your eyes “-p?”

you grabbed his burly forearm, yanking him behind you and walking towards him, forcing him to stumble and fall back on the bed. “wait! i’m all gross and sweaty,” he said, “gym showers were broke-”

“i don’t care. take off your shirt.”

“wow, someone’s eager. missed me that much?”

“watch it,” you glared. “i’m not in the mood, kou.”

he gulped at the dominance radiating from your voice, scrambling to take off the t-shirt that stretched between his pecs perfectly. with the fabric off and throw haphazardly to the side, he looked to you expectantly, the epitome of innocence.

your eyes wandered over his sculpted chest, the remnants of a soft sheen of sweat from his workout making it shine in the sunlight pouring through the blinds. your heart stuttered in your chest—he looked like an angel. coupled with the way with his bottom lip was tucked under his front teeth and the wide, anticipating look in his eyes, fuck. you almost smiled how blessed you felt in that moment, to see him in such a raw, alluring position, before a jarring thought caused your lips to twitch back into a frown.

everyone else can see him, too.

your eyes hardened. maybe they can see him all big and strong, you thought, but they’ll never get to see him like this: submissive.

and so fucking sensitive.

within an instant, your lips were latched on the soft spot above his collarbone, causing him to whimper in pleasure. you continued to travel along his throat, slowly working your way to the other side of his neck and crossing back to nibble at his adam’s apple.

you unexpectedly pulled away, drawing a short whine from him, before repositioning yourself so that you were straddling his outstretched legs. slowly, starting from the hem of his shorts, you dragged your tongue between the ridges of his abs, moving up towards his pecs, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and feeling the muscles tense underneath.

“fuck,” he groaned. as your lips puckered around one of his peaked nipples, he uncontrollably jerked his hips up, inadvertently rubbing his sensitive cock between your legs. overwhelmed by the sensation, he moaned. “fuck.”

“you taste good,” you muttered, grazing your teeth over his other nipple. “just wanna taste you all the time. you’d let me, right?”

thoughts muddled by just how good everything felt, he nodded mindlessly. “i’d let you do- do anything. anything you wan’ to me. i’m yours. all- all,” his voice raised a few octaves as the inside of your thighs brushed past his cockhead, “yours. all yours.”

you paused. raising your head from his chest, you made eye contact with him, so intense he almost closed his eyes to shield himself from the blaze burning in your dilated pupils. “why’d you stop,” he begged, “i want more. feels so good and i wan’ mor-”

“say it again,” you demanded. “tell me that you’re mine.”

his eyes, glossed over and prickled with tears precariously close to falling, squeezed tightly as he spoke, unable to control the growing volume of his voice. “’m all yours. always. all yo- yours.” he gasped as you resumed your movements, pinching the sensitive skin around his v-line while fervently leaving sloppy kisses on his chest. 

“good boy.”

he keened at your praise. another light touch to his cock combined with the passage of your mouth had him trembling, and his breath hitched as he cried out in warning, tears now flowing freely over his flushed cheeks. “m’ gonna cum, ‘m gonna, gonna cum.”

“yeah?” you whispered, lips brushing against his strained abs. “go ahead then.”

“fuck!” he whined, blabbering as you sat back and watched in awe of the beauty before you, a big strong man like him reduced to nothing more than a moaning mess. “fuck, fuck—you always make me feel so, s-so go-od, fuck i love you.”

with soaked shorts and an exhausted sigh, he dropped his head back onto the plush comforter of the bed. you flattened your palms on his quivering body, reeling from the aftershocks of his orgasm. he panted, running his fingers through your hair before nudging your face to look at him, staring at you with an expression of pure bliss and adoration. he studied you for a bit before declaring with a soft smile, “you’re the best. so fuckin’ happy that i’m yours.”

driven by affection, he sat up and reached his arms around your waist, snuggling his chin over your shoulder and mashing your chests, yours clothed and his naked, together. “kou wait!” you shrieked. “you’re all sweaty again! it’s gross!”

he chuckled. as if you hadn’t been spoiling him by licking it up just a few minutes ago. “you’re right. i‘m probably sweating more now than i was after my workout.”

at that, your ears perked up. “well maybe you should do home workouts more often then,” you teased.

“you’re right,” he repeated with a grin, “maybe i should.” if it meant more mornings like these, he’d forego the gym in a heartbeat. 

that night, he canceled his gym membership. after all, he reasoned, it’s offseason anyway.

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[astrohae]

A Dragon’s Greed

pls don’t yell at me about my unfinished series. im trying. take this instead.

dragon king!bakugou X courtesan!reader 

gnc reader as per the usual

Focus. You scold yourself. You're here to entertain, not to wordlessly flirt with the princess's fiance. But what can you say? You've always had a type, and barbarian warlords fell right into your favorite category. The fact that he seemed utterly entranced by you, well that wasn't your fault. Every time you turned your head over your shoulder, you caught his eyes over your half veil and he never looked away, not even for a moment.

The princess didn't seem happy about this, sat next to the king, and huffing when her attempts at catching his attention fell flat. Serves her right for always bullying you and being such a spoiled brat.

Though, to be honest you wouldn't wish marriage to Bakugou Katsuki, the King of Dragons, merciless warlord, upon anyone.

Sure he was attractive and rich, and powerful, but you'd heard horror stories of what he had done on the battlefield.

When Bakugou started looking to new lands to conquer, you country's king had offered up his daughter like a sacrificial lamb to the barbarian in order to forge a treaty and protect his people through political marriage. King Bakugou's sexual conquests were nearly as infamous as his military ones, but he had never married or officially named a consort. The princess would be the first.

The king had sent a huge wedding procession of gifts and treasures to the high court of the Badlands, and along with it the most talented entertainers and artisans they had to offer. As the most talented dancing courtesan in the capital you had no choice but to travel with the caravan, so here you were. Performing a sword dance for a bloodthirsty king who kept looking at you as if you were a meal. It was an ego boost for sure but you were also scared.

When your performance came to a close, you bowed and quickly escaped when the princess had successfully stolen Katsuki's attention. Your face was burning under your veil and you fanned yourself in the cool stone hallway to calm down. You were hoping that the king would forget about you after a few more performers. but you hadn't even been out of the main hall two minutes when a servant came to fetch you.

"His highness requests your presence."

Your blood ran cold and your gulped. Oh gods, you had offended him hadn't you? He was going to kill you, probably behead you right there in the middle of the banquet himself-

You were thinking yourself into a panic when you returned to the banquet hall, eyes downcast now. You bowed, kneeling on the ground and hands clasped in front of your bare midriff.

Faintly you heard a scoff, and then the music stopped. You felt yourself go even more still, eyes darting around to see what happened. Unable to tell, you lifted your head slightly to see the king sauntering his way towards you. He had stepped directly over the table, spilling wine all over the princess in the process.

You quickly bowed your head again and tried not to hyperventilate. You didn't want to pass out now.

Two surprisingly clean leather boots entered your vision and on instinct, you looked up. King Bakugou was even more attractive up close, obviously built for battle with strong chords of muscle littered with scars, a sharp jawline and a head of unruly blonde hair.

"Did I say you could look at me?"

"No, your majesty." you squeak and quickly look back down.

Bakugou crouches to be level with your and grips your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his scarlet gaze.

"Did I say you could look away?" he grumbles this time.

"No, your majesty." You feel conflicted, unsure if he’d be more offended if you averted your eyes or just kept looking at him.

His eyes rake over your body again before coming back to yours.

"What's your name, pretty thing?"

"Y/N. I'm a dancer in my king's court." you answer, praying your voice doesn't sound as shaky as you feel.

He doesn't say anything but lets your chin go and rises to his feet. You rub the bottom half of your face, thinking it might just bruise. Bakugou isn't done with you, though and grabs your wrist, hauling you up from the floor. "What-?" you start to ask but a red-eyed glare has you clamping your mouth shut. The barbarian king drags you with him, right up to the high table. He lifts you over the table as if you weigh nothing, and sits you down on his lap. Right next to the princess. The banquet hall continued to steep in silence until Bakugou looked up.

"Fuck are you all looking at? Get on with the feast!" he yelled, and the music and chatter started back up.

"Your majesty, shouldn't worry with commoners-" she starts and Bakugou growls, actually growls so menacingly, you feel your own blood run cold.

"If I wanted your dumbass fucking opinion, I'd ask for it. Shut the fuck up."

Once he was sure the princess was properly cowed he turned his attention back on you. The arm wrapped around your waist holding you against his was warm against your bare skin.

"Pour me some wine." He commanded and your started before shakily lifting the pitcher and pouring some into his goblet. You hadn't it off to him carefully, and he quickly knocked it back before signaling for you to pour another.

"Most king's with a lick of sense wouldn't let a treasure like you out of their sight, so what are you doing in my court?" Bakugou asks.

"His Majesty decreed that the most talented entertainers accompany Her Highness to Your Majesty's court, for you entertainment and pleasure." you answer, handing off the refilled goblet.

Bakugou snorts at your measured and obviously practiced response. You night have heard him mutter 'toothless old bastard' under his breath, but you can't be sure.

"Give me a strawberry.", he gestures at the plate of fruit no six inches from him and you barely manage not to roll your eyes. Warlord or not, royals will always be royals, you think and pick up one of the berries.

The dragon king open his mouth and allows you to place the fruit on his tongue before biting into it. His ruby red eyes don't leave yours for a second, gripping your wrist when your try to pull away. Some juice trickles down your hand, and without breaking eye contact, Bakugou laves his tongue over your skin licking up the trail of red. He eats the rest of the berry, lips catching on your fingers before the lets your hand go in favor of picking up his wine goblet again.

"My entertainment and pleasure huh? I'm entertained, but I don't know about pleased..." he says, smirking into his goblet.

"Is there anything I can do for Your Majesty?" you manage to ask, brain still reeling from the whole thing with the strawberry.

And you walk right into his trap.

"Yeah, I can think of something..." he starts before leaning closer to you.

His hat breath fans against your neck for a moment, letting your get squirmy and nervous before continuing.

"Fucking you until you cry all that pretty makeup off... Then I'd be real fucking pleased." he says with a predatory smile spreading across his face.

You squeak, face heating under your veil as you try to formulate a response. You have no idea if the princess heard but if she did-

"Y-your majesty, I don't think-" you start but Bakugou cuts you off by grinding his hips up into yours.

"Good thing you don't need to think to take my cock." he muses.

The princess, appears to have reached her limit of watching her fiance flirt with someone else right in front of her.

"Your Majesty! I understand that this is a political marriage but I will not sit here and be humiliated and witch you proposition a commoner in front of me!" she exclaims.

You're a little surprised at her outburst considering the environment, but you guessed everyone had limits.

All chatter and music in the hall ceased for the second time that night. Bakugou pulled his face out of your neck to glare at the princess.

"You can fuck off for all I care. Your side wanted the fucking treaty, I don't have a problem with saddling up and burning your shitty country to the ground tonight." Bakugou stated, his anger growing with each word.

"King Bakugou those words could be taken as an act of war. " the diplomatic envoy from your country, stands and approaches the high table.

"What the- Did you idiots forget where you are? You're in the heart of the Badlands, in the court of Katsuki Bakugo, barbarian warlord and King of Dragons. This is my fucking kingdom and I'll do what I very well fucking please. And if I want to fuck this courtesan on the table right in front of your perfect little princess, I will. " He snarls and all you can do is sit there and pray he doesn't actually follow through on that threat.

Not that you'd hate it, seeing the look on the princess's face as you got fucked by her betrothed. Hah, serves her fucking right for always being such a brat.

"But I'm not a cruel king. I'll marry this one, and you can keep your silly little treaty." Bakugou says and both the diplomat and the princess scoff.

You balk, looking up at King Bakugou in surprise. He's going to what now?

"You can't possible expect the princess to be content with being on the same level as a commoner, even as a consort-" the diplomat starts to protest, which is quickly cut off by Bakugou's harsh laugh.

"You're a country of fucking dumbasses? I'm not marrying your brat of a princess, dump her off on some other poor bastard. I'm marrying Y/N instead of her. They'll be my consort. Won't you, pretty thing?" He says, looking at your for your answer.

"Say yes, treasure. I'm rich as fuck, I could give you anything you want. If I can't buy it I can take it. There's nothing I can't do. You wouldn't lift a fucking finger with me, I can promise that." he boasts to you and you know this.

King Bakugou is an unstoppable force. You had a hard life as a commoner, as a dancer. You weren't a servant but always being at the beck and call of nobility, dancing for them until your feet bled, until you fainted from exhaustion.

You deserved to be greedy, just like the man holding you in his lap.

"Yes, I'll marry you." you answer, and Bakugou smiles wickedly.

Good, he likes greedy. It's one of his favorite traits.

He turns his head back to look at the diplomat and princess from your home country. The diplomat looks like he's sweating buckets and the princess is so angry you think she might start breathing fire.

"So, do we have an agreement? Y/N for your protection?" he asks.

"Y-yes your majesty." the diplomat stutters at the same time the princess protests.

"We do not! How dare you disrespect me so openly, you filthy little wench-" she starts, only to be silenced by the sight of Bakugou pulling his sword. He points the tip at the princess, visibly seething with rage.

"Shut your worthless fucking mouth before I shut it for you." he growls.

Fear takes over the princess' face and she stumbles back behind the diplomat.

"Oi, don't piss on my floor or anything, fucking cowards. Show some respect to my new consort. Bend the knee and I'll forget this transgression." Bakugou orders.

While not officially married  yet, he's bestowed the title of consort upon you and now you outrank the princess. In fact, you outrank nearly everyone here, sans Katsuki, who is your equal. The diplomat and princess wordlessly fall into a bow, and the nobles from both courts follow suit.

"Alright that's enough groveling for now. This banquet is over, I'm retiring to my bed chambers. If you need me, don't." Bakugou gruffs and stands up, once again easily scooping you up into his arms.

"I'm going to rip this pretty little costume to shreds, and pump and heir into you tonight, goddamn it." Bakugou murmurs in your ear as he carries you though out his(your) palace.

"I like this one..." your protest weakly as he kicks a door open, throwing you onto his bed.

He grasps the waistline of your costume, easily ripping the silk to shreds with his bare hands.

"I'm buy you forty just like it, now spread your legs, Consort." he orders, licking his lips.

"I didn't get to finish my meal earlier." He hums and you squeak in anticipation.

"Cute. Let's see how many cute noises you can make, huh?"

@hanji-is-life i hope you enjoy!

[lavenderwhore444]

OK I HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR CAT SHIGARAKI , what if cat shigaraki can actually turn into a cat 🐈 likr a full on cat, one day u where coming back from work and sensed someone was following u, but every time u would check u would find nothing not until the 5th time u turn around u see a little tail wiggling, u try to hide ur giggles and pretend u didn’t see him, shigaraki wasn’t sure why he was so interested in u since he basically hated everyone but something about u was so soft and sweet, shigaraki of course never trusts anyone after what happened to him ( poor baby was abused), after that little incident he started following u home every day, u of course didn’t mind but u really wanted to get a closer look ( u always had food outside wanting for him), on one rainy night shigaraki couldn’t find a place, he was scared,cold and hungry so he ends up scratching and meowing on ur door, u open the door and find this adorable yet really skinny cat and not to mention he was shaking ( one of his ears has a little cut) he looked like he was about to faint so u immediately picked him up and dried him off and fad him, he was exhausted so he passed out, until he woke up he never had anyone caring for him like that, u were really worried for him that really made him feel something he wasn’t so sure of but he knew he wanted ti stay , so this is the day u decided to take this random ass cat in that u had no idea if it was a male or female every time u wanted to check he would hiss ( he was really shy and thought u were pervert) at u so u gave up and picked a random name he didn’t like any but oh well, at first shigaraki was a bit grumpy and a bit shy but he eventually warmed up to u, until one day u we’re on the couch watching tv, shigaraki sees u and goes to cuddle with u ( he was feeling a bit really touched starved) u surprised to say the least, u took a little nap with him until u woke up and Felt something heavy on u, u look down to find a dude cuddling up on ur chest, u pushed him off and started panicking, he did have the cat ears and tail but no way is that ur pet, shigaraki woke annoyed until he remembered he was in his human form, u we’re asking so may questions all he wanted to do is cuddle with u for god sake, he explained everything to u and told u his name , u didn’t mind tbh u had to admit he was kind of cute in his human form, plus it’s not like u haven’t heard if hybrids before u know a lot of people have them so why not have one too , it’s been a almost a year since that day and u never regretted having shigaraki he was absolutely precious.

-🤡

Someone I Can Trust

Cat shiggy supremacy

Maaterlist

Interactivefics

Commission me

Tw: mildly implied SA (not to the reader) just fluffy idk

Your neighborhood might not have been in the nicest area, and you might be just a little paranoid, but you've never felt like this before. You could practically feel the eyes on your back. You checked behind you every so often but never saw anyone and assumed you were just more anxious than normal.

However, you were being followed by someone who could kill you with just one touch. Even though he'd learned to control his quirk, Tomura Shigaraki had little regard for human life. He hated almost everyone but took an interest in you.

It wasn't that he liked you. He was just curious, like a hunter hunting new prey or a scientist watching a new specimen. It didn't matter that the smell of your sweet perfume had drawn him in, and the way you were just so unbearably cute had kept him very interested.

He had followed you for four whole blocks; he got worried when you started heading towards this part of town. Tomura followed you, ready to attack anyone who tried to hurt you. He had concluded that you were the only tolerable person to exist on this stupid dying planet.

It got tricky when he followed you into an alley. There wasn't really anywhere to hide. He stepped on a twig and darted behind a trash can, praying that you didn't see him. Unfortunately you did see him. Well, part of him.

When you checked behind you again, a cute little tail was sticking out from behind an overflowing garbage can. You bit your lip as you smiled, pretending that you didn't see the kitty’s tail. To be fair, you didn't know if it was a girl or a boy, but you had gone with a random hunch you had.

When you reached your apartment, you took one final look around but assumed the little kitty had disappeared. Tomura wanted so badly to race right past you into your house and refuse to leave, but he didn't know who you were or what you'd do to a random uninvited cat. He just couldn't trust you. He wished he could.

The next time he walked by your house, he noticed some cat food sitting out. Did you have another cat? Who cares? He was hungry, so he walked up and ate most of the food. Maybe you could be a consistent source of food. When he heard your door unlock from the new box he'd taken residence in, he followed you to work and then back to your apartment. This went on for a good week and a half.

One day it began to rain. And then it started to pour. The box Tomura had taken shelter in was damp, and rain came right through it. He wanted to cry, he had nowhere to go, and he was cold. So so cold. He tried to hide anywhere he could but was chased out by other cats. He ran back to your apartment and desperately clawed and meowed at your door.

Inside, you heard him despite the heavy rain. If you‘d had the TV going, you wouldn't have heard his sad meows, but thankfully, you did. You open the door to see the cat that follows you home. He's skinny and has patches of fur missing, nearly bald, and his ear is cit. He's shivering and looks like he's about to faint.

You immediately scoop him up and hold him to your chest hoping to warm him up while you get a fresh towel out of the dryer. It's still warm and you wrap him up in it.

“Oh, poor kitty, you must be so hungry,” you say, picking him up while he's snuv in the warm towel.

He mewls quietly, agreeing with you. The food you'd been leaving out was always eaten by other cats when he got there.

“Come on, sweetie, it's gonna be okay,” you reassure.

He lets you carry him to the kitchen, where you open some cat food for him. He lets you feed him. He feels too weak to stand on his own legs. When the can of food is gone, his eyelids droop, and he nearly falls asleep in your arms. When you put him down, he cries for you to stay with him.

He's never felt this way before. Tomura isn't sure if he can trust you or not, but he needs you. He has to try and trust you.

“Aww, you want me to stay with you,” you're already gushing over the cute cat, “of course, sweetie,”

You scoop him into your arms and undo the towel a bit so he's not constricted. You fall asleep with him in your arms. When he wakes up, he sees you scrolling through your phone; he peeks at it and sees you're looking at missing pet reports.

His heart sinks. His old owner may not have cared about him but the thought of them putting up a report made him shake. You feel him stir and see how scared he looks.

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” you say, noticing him staring at the screen, “you can stay with me,”

He mewls in agreement and wriggles out of your arms.

“Hold on buddy,” you say picking him up.

When he notices where you're trying to look, he hisses at you and squirms until you put him down. If he'd have known you were such a pervert, he would have stayed out in the rain. The way you scratch behind his ears makes him forget all about how weird you were, and he purrs loudly.

“What should we name you?” you wonder out loud, you look at his light blue fur and decide on a name, “how about snowball,”

Tomura pretty much hates the name you chose for him, but oh well. He hops off the bed and decides to poke around the house. You follow him around and make sure he doesn't try to eat anything he shouldn't. Something in his little kitty brain lights up when he sees a room with a bunch of boxes. He doesn't know why he's so compelled to jump in them, but when he does, he's elated.

He hops in and out of them, looking at you for approval whenever he jumps, particularly high. You always reward him with clapping and words of praise. When he's finished playing on what he's deemed as the box room, he heads to the living room, rubbing his face all over your furniture to mark it as his territory.

He does the same with the rest of your house as well as you. He's having a good time until you pick him up and try to peek where you're not supposed to again. He hisses at you and is grumpy for the rest of the day, hiding under the couch, climbing into the cupboards, and causing havoc throughout your home.

When you yank him down from the highest shelf of the laundry room, he frowns at you (as much as a cat can) and stalks away to sleep on the couch. You're honestly not worried about his grumpiness. It just means he's getting his strength back and standing up for himself.

You do have to admit that you miss the way he had curled up in your arms last night. You love living with your kitty, and he still follows you to work time and time again. Over time he became for comfortable and a bit nicer (no more random biting) until he was comfortable enough to nap at the end of your bed.

The next time it rained, tomura was terrified. You were watching TV on the couch, and he jumped onto your chest. He needed you to cuddle him while it rained, so he didn't feel scared anymore. You were happy and also a bit surprised. Of course, you didn't complain while he purred as you held him.

His purring lulled you to sleep, and he got so comfortable he accidentally switched back into his hybrid form. Tomura wasn't born a cat, but hybrids on the streets are treated so cruelly that he decided he was safer im his cat form. When you woke up to a heavy weight on your chest, you jumped, causing Tomura to wake up.

When you look down and see a random guy lying on you, you immediately push him to the floor, trying not to look too far down since he was naked (cats don't wear clothes. You can't blame him). The thing that scared you the most was that you couldn't find your cat.

“Who are you!” you shrieked, looking down at the man.

You noticed he had the same ears and tail as “snowball,” but there's no way he was your pet Tomuras is a bit disgruntled from being woken up from his nap but kind of understands your distress.

“Who do you think?” he says, “I’m your cat, just a hybrid,”

You stare at him in shock, of course you knew about hybrids but he still scared you.

“My names Tomura,” he says, “so you can stop calling me snowball,”

“Why didn't you tell me?” you ask, confused, “I still would've taken you in,”

“Well I didn't know that,” he snapped.

Tomura was much moodier in his hybrid form because he had a better memory. He was able to remember all the abuse he endured and how badly he was treated. He didn't want to go through that again, but when you scratched behind his ears, he couldn't keep himself from purring.

“Let’s get you some clothes,” you say, guiding him to your room.

You had some spare clothes your brother had forgotten when he moved out. Tomura put them on eagerly, not wanting you to look too far down. Having fresh, clean clothes on was a new experience to him; his old master never gave him any, and he cringed at the thought, beginning to panic a bit.

You noticed the change in his breathing and wrapped your arms around him. That same sweet smell of your perfume that had drawn him in reached his nose, and he began to breathe slowly, taking in it all in.

“It’s okay,” you say softly, “it’s okay now you're safe,”

He nods, getting choked up at the thought of you caring about him. Over time your friendship strengthens, and even some romance blooms. You love spending the night snuggling with him and kissing him. Tomuras the best thing to ever happen to you and your the best to him.

He's finally found someone he can trust.

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.” 

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

You lowered your head. 

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 

No wonder he was so angry. 

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

[enderwoah]

ORIGINS SMP HEADCANONS (because i love them): SEASON TWO EDITION BAYBEEE

(this is really long ENJOY :gun:)

tommy

he is phil's son smile

phil's most recent son at least

he's got like one more somewhere

he picked this one up off the dangerous streets a few years ago and he's been sticking with phil ever since

his wings are small- not too small to fly, but they're untrained to the point where it would take a lot or work to get him off the ground

but at first, he didn't really seem to want to learn all that much?

(he has three scars on his face- all from trying to learn how to fly when he was younger)

(he gave up after the third one)

("if at first you don't succeed; try, try again" is his motto, and he tried all three times)

but!! phil and wilbur are very persuasive :) and now that he knows he can fly, he's not going to rest until he does

he's a little manipulative to get what he wants sometimes, but can you blame someone that lived on the street for so long?

he had to do that to survive! it's not his fault.

(it's a great excuse.)

he laughs like a kookaburra amen

he squawks when he gets scared

he chirps. he tries not to because it makes phil go absolutely bird-brained but he does sometimes and he hates it.

tubbo

NOW'S YOUR CHANCE TO BE A B[GUNSHOTS]

god he is. so fucking annoying (/rp)

he simply does not know when to stop

he ignores social cues to see when someone is annoyed

(see: he can read social cues. he does read social cues. when you get annoyed that's when he starts being more annoying, because you're more likely to give him what he wants to get him to shut the fuck up.)

he loves talking to (at) people, especially people he doesn't really know that well

so he's trying to be friends with ranboo, but the absolute prick keeps trying to avoid any actual conversations, so that's not working

he buzzes when he gets excited-happy

his fingertips are completely blackened and horrendously sharp, functioning as ten individual stingers

they don't do any actual damage but he's working on that

techno

wither hybrid (??)

how can you be a wither hybrid?? nobody got down and dirty with the wither

he's an experiment

the reason we haven't seen him yet? he's staying away from the main area of the smp

he doesn't want to ruin its natural beauty with his withering effect, so he keeps to himself on the outskirts of the smp

which sucks

withers get health from killing things

he's not fully a wither, so he gets energy from being around people and sort of draining their life force a little bit

he feels terrible when he's with just one person because they are Literally his life support and it makes the person feel like shit

when he's with a big group of people its great!! he only has to take a little bit from everyone and its barely noticable!!

but then there's the wither part. so he has to stay away.

he's always tired

always exhausted

he's a farmer, so taking it from animals works, but god does he miss people

but he can only visit a few times and for very short

(he's afraid that one of these days he'll get so bad that the next time he sees someone he'll accidentally kill them)

(it already happened once. he's blessed that he's been forgiven, even made friends with by the victims, but he doubts he'll be able to pull that off again with no consequences like last time)

wilbur

phantlings are dead elytrians, and given that wilbur was phil's son...he's a phantling

he died in the late 50s and was a librarian when he was alive, so he's very possessive (ha) over all of his things

you should never ask to "borrow" anything from him, he will hound you about it until you give it back

it's best to just say that you want something from him to keep

even if youre going to give it back

just for your own peace of mind

phantlings can feel fear and get a genuine feeling of elation from scaring people

of course, sometimes its unwelcome (feeling large amounts of fear from someone they care about in a bad way just makes them pissed)

but for the most part, wilbur loves appearing in the corner of people's visions just to jumpscare them a few minutes later

all in good fun, of course!! it's just hilarious :)

being the lighthearted, fun guy he is, he's not particularly secretive about his method of death

"how did i die? well, it all started -- ended -- on november 16th, 1958!"

"i walked out of the library late, since i took the shift for my wife since she was feeling sick and i worked there anyways,"

"the streets were dark and only lit up by gaslamps...and out of an alley...appeared..........."

techno.

he didn't mean it. wilbur isn't at all mad at him (anymore)

he was starving. he didn't know that one touch would be enough to fully revitalize him...

and murder wilbur where he stood.

sneeg

has details on everyone on the server

you Cannot Hide Shit From Sneeg

its impossible

if you find of his any shittly little mouse holes then you're doomed

you find one and there are twenty more

he's under your floorboards while you're having your important discussion about trapping the nether roof

sucks to suck ig??

he seems to be the favourite of many, which is weird since he rarely goes out of his way to actually talk to many people

he's the only person that tubbo doesn't actively try to annoy (or maybe he just doesn't find tubbo's antics all that annoying)

he's the only person that ranboo stays around (or maybe he stays around ranboo- he and Phil seem to be the only ones not off-put by his slightly sadistic and whiny demeanour (not counting tubbo, who annoys him anyways)

phil seems to be more protective of him than he thinks is normal (he lets sneeg ride on his shoulder while travelling, so he doesn't really complain)

niki is completely protective over him (again, not complaining)

contrary to popular believe, he does not get high from sugar

if anything he gets

high-per

(get it)

(high-per)

(hyper)

he's literally just a nine-year old getting a sugar rush leave him alone

phil

take the normal "bird-brain" headcanons and multiply it by like sixty-four

and you've got origins phil

he can't see glass- or, rather, he can, but it doesn't register that 'hey, this is a solid surface i am going to slam into'

its very funny for everyone else but he's pretty sure he has permanent brain damage from the blunt force trauma

if there is ANYONE on the server who dares to chirp, bird or no, they must understand that they are signing away their privacy and giving phil the right to go absolutely bonkers over them momma bird style

(shoutout to tommy, wilbur, ranboo, and fundy for having to suffer through this)

"oh??? you don't have wings?? you don't have feathers?? omg?? then what's this im preening?? what do you mean im just braiding your hair?? nono this is preening smile"

god help you if you dare to have wings

poor tommy, wilbur, sneeg, and tubbo

phil can't help himself alright

do you think he wants to be any sort of protective over sneegsnag?

no!! but he cant stop himself!! sneeg might damage his wings if he keeps flying those super long distances!!! nnnno! carry the bug man!!!

it's weird, he's always had that protective sense over ranboo, too

but ranboo very obviously doesn't have wings, so he doesn't get it...

ranboo

yes ur a peasant

yes ur poor

yes im cooler than u

what r u gonna do about it

the enderdragon's son! partially a dragon, partially enderman, partially human (don't ask, his other mom is a hybrid), all spoiled brat!

given that he has a ton of dragon genes, he's extremely possessive over his stuff and Yes He Does Do The Hoarding Thing

he has a pile of rings and gold chains and necklaces and most of his jewellery hidden underneath his bed

(if you ask him, no, he doesn't)

not to wear

just to Have

one time, fundy stole one (1) bracelet from the hoard and ranboo was sent into a panic for a good 24 hours

he wouldn't leave his cave and kept counting and recounting as if that'd make the missing piece reappear

(when fundy had to give it back because of the guilt, he expected to get his face bitten off)

(instead, he just watched as the prince was flooded with relief, telling him to get the hell out and nothing more)

it's weird, he has so much gold and even a crown, and yet here he is

living with all those people ^^^

truth be told, the enderdragon isn't a very nice dragon

nor is she a very kind queen

nor was the other queen

nor was her son

there was a mutiny in the end, leading to the dragon queen and her wife being killed brutally by the crowd of angered people

they went after their son next, who had ordered executions and worked servants to the bone just as much as they had

they cut off his wings in the middle of the square

he was sure he was going to die until a random person (a peasant) jumped up and yelled at them for publicly torturing a child

but ranboo didn't really catch all of it, given he was delirious from pain

he got to get some stuff quickly and escape with his life

this wasn't too long ago, either, so he's still trying to...adjust...to people talking rudely to him

(he's also trying to adjust to not having wings)

(hence why he hurls himself off the edges of cliffs and then has to teleport to the bottom instead of glide. he keeps forgetting.)