#but also for ‘i can fix him’ couples he needs to fix himself eventually away from his s/o and come back better as a person

[m0tel6mxzzy]

i’m sorry i keep watching law and order and later seasons where it’s implied olivia and elliot want each other but aren’t doing anything abt it and yet olivia has to play therapist for his anger issues 😭😭😭 like no. it’s giving “i can fix him” and it’s dead ass the latest episode of organized crime

[yanderederee]

Orange Theory

Bofurin Edition

concept: The Orange Peel Theory is from a viral trend where you ask your partner to bring you an orange. If they bring it to you peeled and ready to eat, it indicates that they're thoughtful and caring. If they bring it to you with the rind still on, it could indicate a lack of consideration.

a/n:I tried sticking as closely to their character colors as I could٩( ᐛ )و I also tried including as many characters as I could, even lesser written characters like Tsubakino/Taiga/Kiryu/lowkey Kaji too lol… I hope you like and agree!♡

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯✦

Sakura Haruka

Poor boy would be so lost.

“I’m really craving an orange…” you mumbled to yourself.

“There’s some in the kitchen.” Sakura would reply casually, popping another grape in his mouth.

You’re silent for a while. Eventually he picks up on it and looks at you with a raised brow. “What’s up?” He’d ask.

“Can… you bring it to me please?” You’d ask. Sakura wouldn’t mind. He’d simply nod and hoist himself up, walk into the kitchen, and return with two unpeeled oranges. “I kinda want one too…”

He hands you one, distracted by the group chat on his phone as he began to peel the orange in his hand.

You were beginning to give up on the test, looking down at the unpeeled orange solemnly. “You haven’t touched your orange, you okay?” He’d ask, cluelessly.

“Im fine..” you’d reply, feeling silly for feeling so distant.

Sakura knows something’s up, so instead, he leans over, and takes the orange from your hand, replacing it with orange he had just peeled from his other hand. “If you wanted me to peel it for you, ya couldn’a said somethin’.”

Overall; 4/10. He sees you as a person who can do simple things for themselves, and may only feel the need to act more considerate if he notices you having a hard time.

Suou Hayato

The two of you decided on having a movie night at your place, and Suou thought it’d be courteous to bring a bag of oranges with him as a gift.

“You know what they say, oranges being good luck and prosperity.” (I was the one who wrote this and I still expected to proof-read ‘an orange a day keeps the doctor away.’)

Before you even had the chance to ask for one, he’s asking to use your kitchen to fix one up for you.

You agree, trying to watch him from the kitchen entrance. He smiles sweetly at you and politely asks you to wait for him in the movie viewing area.

It’s curious, but you do as he says.

He returns soon with a plate, neatly peeled and decorated.

Also asks if you would prefer a fork, if you didn’t want to risk getting your fingers sticky. It’s a little over the top, but he’s only trying to be considerate.

Overall: 11/10, He even saves the peels for Umemiya to use as compost. Encourages you to eat the entire plate, but will indulge in one if you insist.

Nirei Akihiko

Nirei asked if you’d like to binge your favorite show that night. As you both stopped by the store to pick up snacks for the binge, you remembered a couples trend, centered around the oranges in front of you.

You bought a couple, the excuse for them being one of your snacks for the night. Sweet Nirei praises you for making such a healthy snack choice, and even inspires him to put back some of his own snacks to live up to your example.

Just as you were about to begin the binge, you got very comfortable on the couch, and batted your eyelashes at your sweet boyfriend. “Can you bring me an orange please? I forgot them in the kitchen..”

Immediately agrees and hops up from beside you and to the kitchen.

He’s very happily humming to himself as he’s concentrating on the orange, walking back to the couch trying to get a good peel started.

Poor Nirei is so bad at it though, only able to peel off little bits of rind at a time. Half way through the first episode, the orange is crudely peeled, and he’s holding a slice out to you for you to eat.

Overall: 9/10, while its poor, he peels the orange with no indication you need him to, and feeds it to you one by one. ♡

Sugishita Kyotaro

Oh no.

Umemiya led you to Furin’s back yard area, eager to show you and Sugishita the fruits(haha) of his labor; a freshly grown baby orange tree.

Sugishita is immensely proud of his senior, and praises him for his hard work. Umemiya sends you two off with only one orange, since he needs to share the few he did receive from this harvest with the others.

At first, Sugishita doesn’t want to eat it. He wants to preserve it for as long as he can because it was something his previous Umemiya grew.

After a few comments like “It’ll go bad soon, you wouldn’t want Umemiya-san’s efforts to go to waste, would you?”

No way in hell would Sugishita allow that.

Sugishita hands you the orange, perhaps too nervous of accidentally crushing the fruit with his immense strength.

If you’re too slow on the take to peel it, he will accept the task. However, his worries are warranted, you discover, when he shares a slightly soft and dripping orange with you.

Overall: 5/10. He’ll initially wait for you to peel the orange, but he’s too impatient and will offer to do it instead. It’s slightly crushed, but that’s okay.

Hiragi Toma

You asked Hiragi to come over and help you with some yard work. Of course he’s happy to help.

During a break from the work, you lazily asked him to bring you an orange while sitting in front of the box fan.

He chuckles, kisses your sweaty cheek, and walks off to fulfill your request.

It takes him a minute, until he asks from the door way, “Can I go ahead and make some juice outta these?”

You blink wide at him, unexpectedly. “If… if you want to.” You mumble in response.

He nods, hustling back into the kitchen, before he begins peeling multiple oranges, and blending them up and straining them to make a fresh orange juice.

He returns with two full glasses and a half pitcher resting in your fridge. “You’ve worked hard today, hopefully this helps.”

Overall: 11/10, one of Hiragi’s love languages is acts of service, and of service he is to you all the time. Mr. “You want it? I got it.”

Kiryu Mitsuki

Sweeet sweet baby.

The two of you are just hanging out in his room, listening to whatever bedroom-pop song he put on while you both scrolled on your phones.

You come across the orange theory while on a social media app; and grin.

“Mitsuu~ I’d like an orange~.” You singsong to your boyfriend.

Kiryu looks up from his phone, and lazily hums. “Good idea~ can you bring me up one too?” He asks.

Your mouth almost hits the floor at his casual tone, but it ends when you see him hoist himself up from the bed, laughing “Just kidding angel~ I’ll be right back.”

Holding one of his many plushies close to your side, you wait for your boyfriend.

Kiryu returns with an unpeeled orange and a knife. The knife takes you by surprise at first, but once he sits at his little table and begins working on the orange, you realize he’s cutting it into sections with the rind on.

He offers you a slice with a lazy smile. Once you take it, he quickly pops a slice into his own mouth, making a cute wide orange smile.

The unexpected action sends you into a fit of laughter, your adorable boyfriend only grinning wider and blushing at how cute you are.

Overall: 10/10 I guess? He loves seeing you smile and actively does things to make you do so.

Kaji Ren

Oop

The two of you will be chilling on the Furin rooftop, enjoying the cool breeze and quiet hours, now that everyone was finally gone.

The only sound coursing through the air was the music escaping from his headphones, which lay carefully by his side, instead of his neck, so you could both enjoy the tune.

A bag of snacks lay between the two of you. You felt a bit peckish, so you glanced over at the bag and spotted an orange. Quickly, you get the idea to test the orange theory.

“Re~n, could you give me the orange?” You ask, feigning your inability to get it yourself as he was closer to the bag than you were.

Kaji looked over and spotted the orange from the bag. He reached over with ease and made a gesture like he was preparing to underhand throw it at you.

You quickly crossed your arms to show you did Not want him to throw it. He considered his options for a second, before huffing, sitting up, and leaning over so the orange was just a few inches from your reach.

‘Damn.’ You frowned. ‘Maybe this wasn’t the right opportunity to ask?’

Kaji noticed the disappointment on your face, but even after staring at you and trying to figure out what was causing your sour mood, he couldn’t imagine why. He gave you the orange just like you asked, and didn’t throw it.

“What?” He asks bluntly, causing you to flinch. “Nothing.” You replied back, closing your eyes to enjoy the evening breeze once again.

However, your answer was unsatisfactory, and your orange was left untouched. He really had no idea what he did wrong.

Kaji walks over to you, and squats to glare at you. “Quit lyin’ ‘n just spit it out.” He’d press. If you kept being stubborn, he’d just tickle you ruthlessly until he got his answer.

“T-the orange..! Aha—it, ehe… it w-was a test!” You yelped. Once you came clean, Kaji would stop just for a second to let you explain further.

Once you explained it clearly for him, his expression only soured further, tickling you even more sternly. You screamed for him to stop but he refused.

“That’s so dumb, of course I care about you. If you want me to peel a damn orange just say so, ‘n I’ll do it.” He huffed, finally releasing you and sitting by your side.

Overall, 1/10. Kaji is extremely caring and indeed will do anything for you, as long as he knows what’s expected of him. He’s doesn’t much appreciate his affections being tested in such a lame way though.

Taiga Tsugeura

Sweet angel child

You agreed to come over to his house and spot him as he did his usual muscle training routine.

Once he’s finally tired himself out, he begins talking about wanting a healthy snack. He’s going through the options he has while raiding through his cabinets.

As he does this, you notice a load of fruit in his fruit bowl. “You should eat a banana Taiga. Would you mind getting me an orange while you’re there, please?” You’d ask him nicely.

He grins as bright as the sun at your suggestion. “Great thinkin’ Y/n!!” He’s quick to grab both the banana and orange from the bowl. Before he can hand you the orange, his grin becomes more mischievous.

“Check this out,” he says with pride, holding the fruit in both hands. Then, with a quick snap, he rips the orange in half.

You’re BAFFLED. mouth agape and simply, STUNNED. Your shocked expression is all he wanted. He laughs hard, and displays the two halves face up, his own face in the middle.

“Cool huh!” He asks, before doing the same thing with the banana. “Want me to break the rest up for ya?”

Honestly, you aren’t sure what to say.

Overall: 7/10. He… does? It? But it’s more because he wants to show off a cool skill of his than he’s doing it for your sake. He also always asks you if you want him to peel your oranges, so… the thought is there.

Tsubakino Tasuku

Aaaaahh! (Post edited to use he/him pronouns)

You were cuddled up with Tsubaki in his bed after a long day. After a well deserved nap, you woke up when Tsubaki gently slid out from under you, assumingely to use the bathroom or something necessary.

Groggily, you reached out your hand, and whined. “Dar~ling~ ‘so snacky… can.. you bring me back… an orange… pleeeeasssse…”

Tsubaki thought you were the absolute cutest. “Of course my dove~” he would kiss your forehead and pat your hair down sweetly. “I’ll be right back.”

You fell back asleep, but when you did wake up, you saw Tsubaki only a few feet away painting his nails. “Ah! You fell asleep before I got back, you know!” He pouted.

You giggled an apology, and looked around for the orange you’d asked for. “On the nightstand darling.” Tsubaki helped direct you.

You are not expecting to look over and see a dazzling fruit assortment waiting for you. Halved grapes, thinly sliced strawberries, heart shaped banana slices, and bite sized mandarin oranges, all neatly assorted in a bowl…. With a sprinkle of sugar making the entire display shine.

You’re stunned, gasping at the beautiful display. “It’s so cute!! All for me?” You asked, glazed eyes seeking your partner out. He giggled back. “Of course all for you~ enjoy!” And blew you a kiss.♡

Overall: ∞/10. Are you kidding me? Tsubaki ABSOLUTELY would go ABOVE and BEYOND for the ones he loves, ESPECIALLY his partner. PUT SOME RESPECT ON BABE’S NAME RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME!!!

Umemiya Hajime

As much as your boyfriend wishes he could grow a fruit tree of his own, he knows that they take time. So, he settles for easy to grow vine fruits like Strawberries and blueberries.

He loves making you an assortment of berries, and presenting them to you with love. It’s so so very sweet.

ALWAYS encourages you to eat vegetables and fruits, even if you’re not in the mood for them. “They’re super good for your health y/n!”

So you indulge him.

When it’s you who’s asking instead, “Can you bring me an orange please?” He’s elated.

“YES MA’AM!” He all but yells, rushing to get you just that.

Umemiya returns with two imperfectly peeled oranges. He’s a little clumsy with it, but he’s just excited.

Loves sharing food with you and will hand feed you them like a goddess.

Overall, 12/10. The assignment is to gauge one’s thoughtfulness, and Umemiya blows it out of the water. He wants nothing but the best for you and aims to give it to you tenfold.

[lincolndjarin]

Every Now and Then - ch. one

[ I Dream of Something Wild ]

pairing : joel miller x f!reader, platonicsoulmate!tommy & f!reader

word count : 6.4k

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags/warnings : 18+ mdni, angst, canon typical violence, injury, language, manipulation, joel takes advantage of readers situation, eventual smut, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader, she is picked up by joel at one point but i'm a firm believer that he's strong enough to lift any one who may find themselves in the pov of our reader, joel is possessive and controlling, dark!joel miller in a sense?? like he's not really dark now but he's going to be, multiple time lines, not canon compliant, mentions of prostitution, i sorta made up my own timeline, i probs missed tags sorry!!

a/n : i really need to fix my writing schedule so i'm hoping that having a new fic to put my energy into is going to help!! also sorry if this chapter doesn't have much going on i need to set up a lot of stuff but i promise more action in future chapters

ao3 .𖥔 ݁ ˖ series masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ main masterlist .𖥔 ݁ ˖ kofi

He crept up on you like the shadows as the sun sets in the west. An all encompassing darkness that blotted out the sun until all that was left was night. He sunk his claws into you so deep that your eyes adjusted to the dark, and you didn’t even realize how much time had passed until you shrunk away from the inevitable sunrise that made him cower away from the dawn as if he never really was big and scary. 

And in the light of day you saw him for what he really was.

He was just a man, who was once a boy, who was scared of the dark. 

So he made himself big, and terrifying, and he grew so accustomed to the thing he once feared that the very idea of anything else made him recoil.

You feel something akin to pity when you think of him now. That doesn’t mean you forgive him, but when you can stomach it you try to, for the sake of your peace. You’d probably be happier if you could just forgive him. 

But you can’t.

So you don’t. 

It’s hard when his own blood doesn’t think he’s a good man. Tommy was afraid of him. Terrified at the very thought of his big brother. You can recall several nights where you had woken up to him screaming in the sleeping bag beside you, absolutely petrified of a memory that had inevitably snuck in through the darkness. You never feared him quite like that, but seeing the effect he has on Tommy makes your stomach churn, a painful reminder of your own suffering.    

Most of the time it’s easier to just not think of him at all, despite the reminders he’s branded into you forever. You ignore him when he tries to soak back into your very being, but at the end of the day he’s unavoidable. You see him in the dark brown eyes of others, hear him in Tommy’s southern drawl, taste him when you have the occasional sip of whiskey. He tries and tries relentlessly to worm his way back into you, but you never let him. You put up walls and you focus on other things, anything, that isn’t Joel Miller. And even though you can’t forget him entirely you manage to ignore the memory of the man you once loved for several years.  

Until one day it’s impossible to keep the thought of him away. 

Until he himself makes it impossible.

Then - NEW YORK CITY, QUARANTINE ZONE : 2019

“Stay off of it or you’re going to lose it.”

That’s what the QZ doctor had told you. A couple weeks of bed rest was the most he could offer when you came to him with your broken ankle. 

A couple weeks without working is a death sentence. 

If you don’t work you won’t be able to afford food. And you don’t have anybody to fall back on, no family, no friends, not even an acquaintance to borrow funds from. 

Lose your leg or starve. 

As appealing as it sounds, starvation isn’t an option, too painful. 

So you have to work. The only issue with that is you’ve been blacklisted, the stupid doctor had you put on a no-shift list. You beg them to let you work, you’ll do anything, but they never budge. 

You only have enough ration cards stocked up to make it to the end of the week so you have to consider your other options. You could sell yourself. It certainly isn’t uncommon and the money’s good but it’s too dangerous, especially if you can’t run on your leg. You’ve seen too many people get hurt in that profession to risk it. You don’t have a trade. You’re terrible at sewing, you can’t cook, there isn’t a need for much of anything else and you own nothing valuable. 

So there’s only one other option for you. 

You steal. 

You dress inconspicuously, in your only pair of jeans and a plain shirt, both of which are getting rather tattered at this point but you have nothing else. With your jacket on you pull up your hood and you do the exact thing you aren’t supposed to do, and you walk. 

The conditions in the QZ are poor enough that your limp doesn’t stand out. You walk up and down the streets all day, slow and steady, with your head down and you don’t take risks. You don’t take anything big or obvious, just little things. A single ration card peeking out of a pocket, a pocket knife off a vendor's table, stale bread, set away from the good stuff where no one is looking. And you return home each night with your pockets full and your leg aching. 

By the end of your second week you’re still barely scraping by but you’re managing. What little ration cards you manage to snatch you use to buy food, but it’s still nothing compared to what you’re used to making. Your ankle feels worse by the day. 

You need more. 

You need to find a source of income that will let you rest or you’re going to lose your leg, which will leave you in an even worse position. It isn’t until you hear your neighbor slam his door that you come up with an idea. 

Your neighbor probably has more cards than he knows what to do with, and he’s always coming and going so he probably wouldn’t even notice if you skimmed a little off the top. Nothing substantial, just enough to keep you going and give your leg time to heal. 

The only problem is your neighbors reputation. 

You doubt you’d have much of a chance of surviving him if you got caught. Joel Miller was a bit of an urban legend around the QZ. Of course you only knew him as your stoic neighbor, just a guy who didn’t make a lot of noise and came home at strange hours, and sometimes disappeared for days at a time. 

But everyone else acted as if he was some kind of Boogey Man. You didn’t see him much in the streets but when you did children ran and people whispered, and while you had no knowledge of how he earned that reputation you knew it probably wasn’t pretty. 

So you’d have to be careful. 

He’s gone now, you’d heard him stopping down the hall so you decide it couldn’t hurt to take a peek, just scout out the area. 

You climb out onto the fire escape, your leg aching as you do, and you use the dull little knife you’d stolen a few days ago to shimmy open his window lock. It slides open pretty easily, he’s probably rather confident that nobody would ever mess with him so he doesn’t seem to have the usual precautions taken to protect his belongings. 

Lucky you. 

Stepping into the room you wince as you land on your bad leg, stumbling onto the floor, knocking a board loose in the process. 

“Shit.” You groan, sitting up quickly, trying to put everything back in its proper place when you catch a glimmer of something under the floor. 

A revolver. 

You shouldn’t be here. Joel Miller is a dangerous man, you knew that but you did this anyway, you can’t help but feel incredibly stupid as you stare at the weapon. You feel so stupid that you don’t even hear the click of a lock. You don’t even bother with the ration cards you can see peeking out from under the gun, you just want to leave and forget that you ever thought this was a good idea. It’s a struggle, getting back to your feet, your leg is throbbing, begging for a rest you can’t afford to take right now. With a groan you push the window open, eager for this silly idea to be over you try to figure out the best way to go about this. You’re starting to lose feeling in your leg, should you go bad leg first or try to balance on it while shimmying the rest of your body out the window? 

You never get to decide what the best course of action is because your head is slammed against the wall, your knees crumple underneath you as you hit the floor, the room spinning as your leg bends at an angle that makes you shriek. You slap your hand over your mouth but it’s far too late for that. He’s been here the whole time. It’s dark but you can still make out the foreboding shape of his figure. The broad shouldered beast that’s glaring down at you, his boot nudging your chin roughly as you bite back a shriek of fear. 

“I could report you to FEDRA for this.” The gruff voice whispers into the darkness. 

You’re desperate to avoid lockup, you know you’ll die in there, or worse. Although you’re not entirely sure what’s going to happen to you either way. 

“I- I’ll tell them about your contraband.” You point frantically at the loose floor board. “They’ll lock you up too.” His glare is unwavering as he stares down at you. You’re a little worried that he might just kill you himself, there would be no consequences, no one would be looking for you. 

No one would look for you. 

The thought makes you shudder and even though you try to stop yourself you feel your eyes beginning to water. You hear footsteps, watching his outline move across the room before you’re shrinking away from the light of a dim lamp in the corner. 

“You gotta be real dumb to find yourself in this situation.” He mutters, turning back around to stare at you. His gaze makes you want to cover yourself up, it’s like he can see every single part of you within that icy glare. You’ve never taken the time to really, truly look at him before but you do now, after all this might be your last chance to look at anything at all. 

He isn’t a terrible last sight. 

Sure, he’s ominous enough to make you want to try and run despite the ache in your calf right now, but that doesn’t make him any less handsome. In a rugged, weathered sort of way. He’s older than you thought, gray sprinkled throughout the mess of curls framing his face. What a nice face it is. Soft where it needs to be soft, sharp where it needs to be sharp. He marches back over to you, easily taking the pocket knife from your hand and crouching down in front of you.

“Give me one good reason not to finish you off right now.” He points the blade in the direction of your leg. “Seems like it’d be a mercy at this point.” 

Maybe he’s right. 

Maybe it would be a mercy to just let him put you out of your misery. Why have you been fighting so hard? You can’t seem to recall a reason other than the fact that that’s what you’re supposed to do. Your mind tells you that you’re supposed to keep fighting but you can’t think of a single driving force. You’re in pain, constantly, you live in a world that wants you dead, and you have no one relying on you. 

You don’t have a good reason, other than the fact that surviving is all you know how to do. So you look up at him and you nod. Taking in the sight of the pretty, frightening man one last time before closing your eyes. 

It feels good. You feel good, for the first time in a long time, knowing that you won’t hurt anymore. You won’t have to be afraid of someone kicking your door in, you won’t have to worry about where your next meal is going to come from, and you won’t have to worry about turning into a monster. It’s a mercy.

So you close your eyes.

Suddenly grateful for the killer before you, your guardian angel, here to deliver you the peace you didn’t know you needed. 

You wait patiently for the sting of a blade or the embrace of his hands around your throat but all you're met with is a sigh. When you finally find the courage to open your eyes he’s sitting on the edge of the bed across from you, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Just go.” He grumbles, muttering a few other words you don’t catch. 

You’re almost disappointed, having accepted this was the end, and now you’re being shoved back into the cold and unforgiving world. You start to get to your feet but your knees buckle under you. You try again, willing your leg to just work but much to your dismay you can’t even straighten out your leg anymore. When you try to move it all you find yourself only able to bend your knee a few inches.

Shit. 

You think of the fall you took on the way in and wonder if you finally pushed yourself to the limit. If you go back to the doctor will he remove the entire thing? Maybe you should just ask Joel to finish the job before it comes to that. It would be a kindness, between a quick death here or a slow death starving in your apartment you’ll take the quick way every time. Before you even have a chance to ask he’s on his feet. Maybe his patience has run out and you won’t have to ask at all. 

“Let me.” His voice rattles around in your head, so low and commanding that you put up no resistance as he lifts you up under your arms and sets you down on the edge of the bed where he just was. He flips the knife out, going to cut your jeans off of you but you stop him.

“Wait!” He freezes in place, giving you an impatient look. “These are my only jeans, just- just pull them down.” Before you can realize how embarrassing it might be to show your neighbor your faded pink panties, you're already unbuttoning your pants, lifting your hips up so he can pull them down your legs with a roll of his eyes. It’s painful, the feeling of the denim running against your skin but it’s better than not having any pants at all. 

Fuck. 

It’s been a while since you’ve actually looked at your leg. You’re surprised he was able to get your jeans off with how swollen it is, the flesh bulging around your ankle and now up your calf. The skin is shiny and blotchy with shades of purple and red. The sight of it makes you want to hurl but you manage to swallow the urge, looking away as he pokes at the tender flesh. 

“Christ girl, what the hell did you do?” When he grabs your ankle to lift your leg you yelp in pain, making him set your leg back down instinctively. 

“I just- it’s just a broken ankle.” You mumble as he gives you an incredulous look.

“Like hell it is.” Something about the sternness of his voice demands your obedience as you nod. “Wanna tell me what really happened?” 

“Well I- I fell and-” You struggle to find an excuse to justify how bad you let this get but you come up empty. So you tell the truth. “I fell off a ladder while painting over graffiti during my shift and broke my ankle. The doctor told me to stay off of it and- well, I couldn’t afford not to work so I just… didn’t” You rush through your words, staring anywhere else but into his demanding gaze as you explain yourself. 

“So you turned to stealin’.” He says it like the fact it is and you can only bring yourself to nod. “You need antibiotics.” He says just as matter of factly. “You know how much that sort of thing costs?” 

A lot. 

More than you’d have even if you were working overtime. 

He clears his throat and you finally meet his eyes. 

His eyes were so dark that day they threatened to swallow you whole. Were they always that dark? Or was it just that day, the first day, when he realized that he had you. 

“Look, I don’t do this kinda thing for just anybody. But I can help you.” He had sounded so kind, his hint of a smile had seemed so promising. 

“I can’t afford it-”

“You can use alternative methods to pay me back.” 

You told him you’d think about it. 

And he hadn’t pushed you, he had simply helped you back into your jeans and carried you back to your apartment. He told you he’d check on you tomorrow and see if you had an answer for him.

So when the next day came and you had a fever and your leg was throbbing, demanding your attention you’d been all too eager to accept his help. 

And just like that, it was your idea. 

It wasn’t his, he was blameless, you asked him to help you. And it didn’t matter who had suggested it first, it mattered who brought it up after. 

You had been certain that when he had told you you’d be using alternative methods to pay him back that his intentions were unsavory. And at that point you didn’t really care, you’d made your peace with that. The medicine you needed wasn’t cheap and you could find worse looking men who didn’t take care of themselves the way Joel did. 

But he wanted nothing of the sort. 

Southern Manners.

All he wanted was for you to take care of his apartment when he was out with his business partner, a woman who didn’t seem to dislike you but certainly didn’t care for you. He told you to take a week to just rest, take the medicine he brought you, eat the food that he fed you, and be good. So you did as he asked. And after a week you could move a bit more, you started spending your days at Joel’s tidying up and organizing while he was gone, it was much easier to stay off your leg for most of the day and he always made sure there was food and books for you while he was gone. And when he returned he would help you hobble back to your place and help you into bed without complaint and with a promise that he’d be back in the morning. 

But you still don’t relax around him.

It doesn’t make sense. Even someone who wasn’t known for their cruelty wouldn’t just take a stranger in. You’d like to believe that there’s good in people but you know better than to have that kind of faith. There isn’t enough left of the world to share the remains. Yet Joel does. He doesn’t ask to know you better and he certainly doesn’t tell you about himself yet he shows you more kindness than anyone else in your life has before. 

He must like having someone to take care of. 

That’s how you explain it to yourself. 

You watch him with Tess and it’s clear who’s in charge there, she barely even lets him stitch her up when she returns to the apartment. Joel gets frustrated every time, huffing and pacing around the room before finding some way to tend to you in her place. Icing your leg, or bringing you a new book to read, or feeding you. 

It took a few months for your leg to heal, it had been in such bad shape a part of you worried that it might never be the same as it once was. 

After the first month of your arrangement Joel told you his knees hurt and he wouldn’t be able to carry you home, you offered to just walk yourself over, your leg didn’t hurt that bad anymore and you were more than capable of walking short distances. But he insisted you stay, told you you could sleep in the bed and he’d take the couch.

But his knees hurt, you couldn’t let him do that. 

And you told him you’d take the couch and he told you he wouldn’t feel right making you sleep on the couch with your leg the way it was. 

So you told him you’d both just sleep in the bed. It wasn’t a big deal. You trusted him, of course you did, he had an opportunity to exploit you and he didn’t, if he was going to hurt you he would have done it already. 

He had acted unsure. 

You know now that it was acting. 

So you had insisted. You told him it was okay, you told him you felt safe with him. 

It was your idea. 

Even though it hadn’t been your idea to stay that night.

You had insisted he get in the bed with you. 

A fact that he would bring up often in the months to come. 

He would still help you to your apartment some nights, but just as often he’d complain about his knees and you’d stay. You got used to his warmth, you got used to waking up in his arms and not talking about it in the morning. 

So it made sense when he told you that you should keep your pajamas at his apartment. 

It made sense when he got a toothbrush for you to keep in his bathroom cabinet. 

It made sense when he told you that he couldn’t find new clothes in your size and you could just wear his. 

It made sense when he told you that he and Tess had never been a thing, so you had no reason to feel weird about sleeping in his bed. 

And it made sense when he told you that he’d hold onto the keys to your apartment, afterall you wouldn’t want to lose them. 

Joel Miller was a glue trap. And you had waded across his sticky surface without a care in the world, never realizing that it was getting harder and harder to move until you were standing still. Until the only way you were going to escape was by biting off your own leg. 

You don’t remember when you stopped returning to your own apartment completely, but you know that it happened early on, before you’d even started chewing. 

Now - JACKSON, WYOMING : 2023

“Ruth?” You’re gonna be late if you don’t find her soon. The turntable in the corner of the kitchen plays a 3 Doors Down song as you lift the table cloth, searching for the little girl. “We don’t have time to play, we need to get you to school.” You groan, turning to face the boy currently sitting in a highchair he’s just about grown out of. “Do you know where she is?” You cross your arms in front of your chest, glaring at him as he shrugs. 

Of course he isn’t going to tell. They look out for each other before anyone else, a fact that normally fills you with joy but not when they’re ganging up against you. Thankfully you catch his eye as he shoots a glance at the pantry. Pulling the door open you’re quickly met with the sight of Ruth, giggling on the floor. You pick her up, putting her in her own highchair before setting a plate of fruits down in front of her.

“Eat. We don’t have time to play this morning, young lady.” You poke your fork in her direction as you sit down across from them.

“Eat.” She repeats in a mocking tone, her brother erupting into a fit of giggles at the impression as you sigh. They need to be at the community center in half an hour. You make the job schedules on Friday and you need as much time as possible if you want to finish them in one day. You’re having a hard time focusing on the mess your son is making as he smashes each blueberry down onto the table before popping them into his mouth as you try to schedule your own weekend. 

You need to finish all of your work today while the kids are gone so you don’t have to juggle watching them and working later, it shouldn’t be too much of an issue, scheduling should only take a few hours if you really zero in on it. You have dinner with Tommy and Maria tomorrow and you promised to bring dessert so you’ll have to take the kids to the market tonight, which also means you’re going to have to find supplies to barter with before you go. 

You have nothing planned on Sunday.

You’ll have to change that. 

You hate having nothing to do.

You’re snapped out of your thoughts as a blueberry hits you in the forehead. Both twins laugh now as you frown at them. 

“Behave or I’ll tell your aunt that you’ve been bad.” Both children look at each other nervously before returning to their breakfast. You were never stern enough with them. You loved them too much, you couldn’t ever bring yourself to yell at them, and it wasn’t like they were troublemakers by any means, they were just kids with a lot of energy in the mornings. And when they did misbehave a small threat of telling Maria was enough to make them stop whatever it was they were doing. 

You finish up your own plate and start getting ready to leave as the kids start giggling again to themselves. When their plates are empty you use a wet washcloth to clean their hands and faces before lifting each of them out of their respective seats, letting them run off a bit more energy before you head out. You set all three bags down in front of the door. Yours being the beige over the shoulder bag accompanied by two little backpacks. Ruth’s green canvas bag is covered in mud and other remnants of the yard that she’s brought in with her but Arthur’s purple backpack is kept neat and tidy. You slip into your coat before turning just in time to watch your son dive into the couch, quickly followed by his sister. 

“Come on little ducks. Time for school.” You take their jackets off the hook, holding them out to them as they rush over to you, tugging their own coats on before grabbing their bags, once you pull the door open they both rush out into the cool autumn morning, talking to each other in hushed tones. Always secrets with those two. It would probably make you a little worried if these were normal circumstances, the way they don’t let anyone in except each other, with you being the only exception. But the world is a terrifying place, it brings you peace to know that they have each other. 

A part of you is certain you wouldn’t have been able to handle just one. 

One little person relying on you, all while you’re doing your best to hold it all together? It sounds like a nightmare. It’s better that they have each other. Once you’re standing outside the community center, busy with parents dropping off their children, you kneel down. 

“Be good, if you behave today you can go to the market tonight.” The promise of the market has both of them grinning, showing off the teeth they’ve both recently had grow in. “I love you, I’ll see you in a bit.” You hold open your arms, each of them taking their respective sides as they wrap themselves around you. You take your daughter's face in your hands before pressing a kiss to her forehead, repeating the motion with your son. After a few “love you mama’s” they both run into the building, once you’re sure they’re safe inside you head off in the direction of town hall. 

You have what you would call the best job in town, despite the fact that no one else seems to want to do it. 

Maria understood when you arrived that you needed something that let you work from home if needed, you needed something that kept your mind busy but also gave you time with the kids. So you took care of the parts of Jackson most didn’t think about. 

You document all of the citizens, you make the shift schedules, and you make sure everyone has the necessities. You take care of housing, when big hauls from scavenging come in you divide them up among the people who need them. You make the meal schedules for the dining hall, and you make the crop schedules. 

You keep Jackson moving. 

When you arrived all of this was Maria’s job along with her other duties, when you told her you wanted something engaging and demanding she was more than willing to pass off those duties to you. So now you’ve got to make the schedule. Town hall is nothing more than a house with several desks for people doing work similar to yours but thankfully you’ve been lucky enough to reserve your own office in one of the bedrooms. 

Most Friday's Maria visits you for lunch but you know she’s on patrol currently, another perk of this job is knowing where everyone is, all the time.

No surprises. 

You hate surprises. (With a few exceptions.)

One of the exceptions is waiting for you in your office, Tommy sits with his legs up on your desk, reading over this past week's schedule. 

“You put me on crop harvest way more than anyone else.” He grumbles, tossing your notebook down.

“It’s the end of the season, everyones on crop harvest.” You lean down, kissing his cheek before taking your place across from him, immediately getting to work as he groans. 

“Maria gets to go on patrol.” 

“Council gets first dibs on patrols during harvest season.” The tip of your favorite pen is dry so you quickly bring it to your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before you start writing out jobs for this upcoming week. The second he sees how many farming related jobs you’re listing he leans back in his chair, groaning and running his fingers through his dark curls. 

Today’s his day off. You always gave anyone doing more manual labor three days off instead of two. 

“I can get you on one patrol shift but they’re going to need your help with the corn.” You write his name in with the Monday and Tuesday patrol squad, filling in the rest of his week with harvest as he grins. 

“Thank you, darlin’.” He drawls. You hate that nickname, you hate that he isn’t the first to give it to you but you never complain, you’d let Tommy get away with murder at this point. It’s the least you can do considering everything he’s given you. 

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re only getting a two-day weekend next week.” You mumble, searching through the list of citizens, trying to pick out the people you know won’t mind the hard work. 

“Fine by me.” You have a complicated relationship with that smile of his. You can love it all you want but that doesn’t change the fact that it makes you uneasy, it doesn’t help that you’re starting to see that same smile in your son. 

“I was thinking about berry cobbler for tomorrow night.” Molly twisted her ankle last week, make sure she isn’t standing. You put her down for shucking corn, she can sit in the dining hall and work. 

“We have a bunch of extra sweet potatoes if you want to make sweet potato pie.” He takes your crop ledger, flipping through it, clearly not reading a thing. 

“Ruth hates sweet potatoes.” Marcus insists he’s capable of doing manual labor, his pride won’t let him act his age. You put him down for pushing the wheelbarrows, he won’t have to bend down to pick anything up but hopefully he’ll still feel like he’s doing enough. You’ve told him countless times that at his age he shouldn’t be working so hard but he always insists. 

“Shit, forgot about that. Maria might have some apples.” 

“I’ll stop by tonight before I take the kids to the market.” 

You’re thankful for Tommy.

He keeps your mind busy with conversation while you work, and he’s one of the only people you actually trust. By the time you’re almost done you know you need to go get the kids, with a conflicted glance at the clock you start to gather your things but Tommy beats you to it.

“I’ll go get them, Maria should be home from patrol soon, she’ll want to see them.” He’s already putting his coat on so you stay seated. 

“Are you sure?” You already know there’s no reason to argue, he’s stubborn, just like his brother. 

“It’s the least I can do to make up for bothering you all day.” He steps around the desk to give you a peck on the cheek before going to leave. “Just come by the house when you’re done, no rush.” And just like that he’s gone. 

You make quick work of your remaining duties. Finishing everything within a half an hour before heading out in the direction of the Miller’s farm house on the edge of town. It’s only a few houses away from your ranch house, a fact that you couldn’t be more grateful for, if it weren’t for Tommy and Maria you aren’t sure you’d have been able to handle those first few months of parenthood. Most people in town assumed Tommy must be the father purely based on how much effort he put into taking care of not only them, but you as well. As you make your way up their porch steps and into the living room you’re also reminded of the similarities. You can’t blame people for making assumptions, even Maria thought he was the father. The twins have his eyes, (which by association means that they also have his eyes, but you try not to dwell on that.) Ruth has your nose but Arthur has that Miller curve already starting to show on his little nose. Both little ones are sitting in the big recliner with their uncle as he tries to get them to settle down while he reads to them but the second they see you, both are scrambling out of the chair to hug your legs. 

And everything goes exactly how it’s supposed to. 

(Of course it does, you plan every day down to the minute.) 

You give Tommy the list of things you need along with a few things he can trade them for and he takes the kids down the street to the market as you sit at the kitchen counter, talking to Maria about her patrol. You had all planned to go to the market together but she’d insisted she was tired and you didn’t want her to be here alone so you stayed, helping her cook dinner. And you talked about all the things you knew you would, something cute the kids did, how her patrol went, what things you could put on the dining hall menu in the coming weeks. 

It’s all exactly how it should be. 

Until she frowns. 

“Are you busy Sunday?” You had sensed something was wrong with her but you assumed maybe she was just a little rattled coming off of a three day patrol. 

“No, did you need something?” You continue to chop up the sweet potatoes she now planned to use tonight instead of tomorrow. 

“We found a couple of strays, I thought maybe we could get them settled in.” 

Odd. 

Normally finding survivors would be the first thing she mentioned after returning, even stranger is the fact that she’d often waste no time getting them supplies and a home to make their own. But you're not one to question Maria’s judgment.

“Sure, we can do that Sunday morning.” You want to ask questions about it but she’s already changed the subject to doing a clothing drive at the community center so you don’t press. Despite the way the look on her face is bothering you.

It wasn’t fear, or discomfort, or something you could explain away with the excuse of the strays being off putting or violent. 

It’s a look of pity. 

As if she feels bad for even asking. 

It unsettles you enough to leave it be. Making idle chit chat with her until Tommy returns with the twins and you take them home. It unsettles you as you make your own dinner, as you give the twins a bath, and as you help them into their pajamas and read them a story. It never leaves your mind. 

“Goodnight Ruthie.” You lean down to kiss her forehead, watching her eyes flutter shut as she continues to fight sleep. Always the stubborn one. 

“Night Mama.” You take the stuffed bear from the foot of her bed, tucking it in beside her before quietly standing, walking across the room to your son's bed. 

“Goodnight Arthur.” You lean down, kissing both of his rosy cheeks, he doesn’t fight sleep the way his sister does. So similar but so different. 

“Goodnight Mama.” His little voice has the same southern drawl you know he’s been picking up from Tommy. 

“I love you, little ducks.” You smile at him, turning to see that Ruth is already asleep, you tuck in the blankets around Arthur before leaving, keeping the door cracked open a bit so the light from the kitchen can act as a night light. 

God, you're tired. 

You’re quick to shower and slip into your own pajamas, crawling into bed with a yawn. You take the book from your nightstand, flipping through until you find where you left off yesterday. 

You never really know what’s going on in the books you read, they serve a singular purpose and it isn’t entertainment. 

You read until you fall asleep, they’re just a distraction to keep your mind busy with thoughts so he can’t sneak in right before you fall asleep and embed himself in your dreams. 

It works.

Your dreams never feature him. 

They aren’t good dreams by any means, they’re wild. Often of your journey to Jackson, the fear you felt then. But you’ll take that over Joel any day. Tonight isn’t any different, your sleep is restless as you fight the memories of fighting for survival in those woods, but instead of your usual nightmares of infected hunting you through the trees you’re faced with a sight that somehow makes you even more uneasy than the living dead.

The look on Maria’s face when she told you about the two strays. 

support me on kofi!!

a/n : this fic has been bouncing around in my brain for months now and it feels so fucking good to finally start it omfg. sorry if this felt a little slow, i really needed to set a tone and a base for the story, sorry!!

[certifiedfreec]

neighbor!keegan is super handy! <3

🏠 neighbor!keegan notices you when you first move in, but he doesn’t introduce himself just yet- he knows you’ll probably need time to unpack, adjust to the new space, etc. he’s also not sure how you feel about strangers helping you carry your personal belongings, even though he’d really like to help you. it’s just in his nature to serve others!

🏠 the first time you see him, he’s either out in the garage tinkering with his car or working on some sort of project. he likes to keep his hands busy, always fixing or constructing something…though he can certainly think of some ways to use his hands with you ;)

🏠 neighbor!keegan is in his own little world, humming along to the music playing on his speakers while he works away, so he doesn’t immediately notice you from across the street while you’re getting your mail. you can see the muscles in his arms ripple, the slight sheen of sweat from his efforts and the way it makes his t-shirt cling to his form. you’ve got the best seat in the house! if you stare too long, he’ll definitely feel your eyes though- he’s just extra keen like that :)) once he actually spots you, he’ll conveniently stop what he’s doing and grab his mail too, raising his palm as a quick wave while he walks to the end of his driveway.

🏠 “you reminded me to get mine,” he calls with a smile when he reaches his mailbox, and you can’t help but check him out; he’s in a delicious sweet spot between buff and lean, and he’s a good bit taller than you! he’s got pretty blue eyes that most definitely pick up on your ogling, and a rich, low voice that could say all kinds of things to you 🫣 behind him, you see the setup of tools and supplies in his garage, and you immediately know he’s a handy guy- doesn’t hurt that he’s super cute too. it looks like he could help you out in all sorts of ways! <3

🏠 you stand by your mailbox as you introduce yourself, and he leans on his own while he asks you how you’ve been liking the house and the neighborhood, if you’ve had any issues, etc. this man’s gotta collect his intel! it’s the perfect time to offhandedly mention that everything is great except for the fact that the previous owner left all the tile for the backsplash on the kitchen walls but never even started the job :/ keegan’s appalled! how could they leave all that work to you?? :( luckily he’s got mortar and a trowel on hand for times like these, and he’d be happy to take care of it for you- just give him a good time to come over and he’s there!

🏠 a real sweetie, neighbor!keegan is. he’s over a couple of days later, tools in hand, and you immediately like the feeling of him being in your house once he steps inside. he’s quiet while he works, focused and back in his own little world while you answer emails on your laptop in the living room, but he’s grateful when you tell him he’s more than welcome to play his music :’) turns out he has an impeccable playlist, and soon enough you’re humming along with him from your work area! he thinks it’s adorable and just has to remark on it in his own way of teasing. “heh, you don’t look like you’d listen to this kinda stuff.”

🏠 you laugh and look over at him from your desk, admiring how all those muscles in his back and arms flex as he applies the tiles to the walls :’) “what’s that supposed to mean?” you tease back, and you only hear him let out a low chuckle. “i dunno…” is all you get sheepishly in response- you can’t see it, but he’s totally blushing <33

🏠 neighbor!keegan finishes installing the backsplash as you both chat every once in a while, but even the silence is comforting with him around; you could definitely get used to having him in your space! he eventually calls for you to come take a look; he really wants to do a good job for you so he can do more projects around your house…and maybe you too ;) you come into the kitchen, and it of course looks beautiful!! he loves seeing how your face lights up when you admire his craftsmanship :) you’re already reaching in your wallet to give him some cash, but he’s quick to wave it away. you’ve never had a neighbor so giving of their time!! however, when you offer to order dinner from a place of his choice as a thank you, he just can’t deny spending more time with you <3

🏠 once you actually sit down with him, you find out that neighbor!keegan has a super dry sense of humor. he doesn’t need to say much to have you cracking up, and god does he love the sound of your laugh! he asks you about your move, where you came from, the reason you relocated here, etc., because he’s eager to learn any scrap of information there is to know about you. you’ve totally piqued his interest, and he’s pretty sure he’s piqued yours too :)

🏠 he’s normally pretty even-keeled, not one to ever rush things unless it’s an emergency, but you must be giving him some signals during dinner that you really like his presence- and he’s all too aware of you to ignore them! it started off as you two sitting just a liiiiittle bit closer on your couch, but it soon evolves into you straddling his lap while his mouth explores from your lips to your chest- all he can do in between those kisses is murmur about how pretty you are with that low, husky voice of his as his hardworking hands roam and squeeze all over you :’)

🏠 neighbor!keegan ends up leaving that night without things escalating too far, mainly out of consideration so you didn’t feel rushed or pressured, but then he’s at your door a couple of nights later telling you he can’t stop thinking about you :(( a neighbor coming to you in a time of need- it would simply be rude not to help him, right? he did do a beautiful job with the backsplash in your kitchen, not to mention!

🏠 this, plus the clear fact that he’s an unbelievably attractive guy, are enough reason for you to be splayed out on your kitchen counter with your legs over his shoulders, his tongue lapping at your clit like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted <3 your head rolls back at how good his mouth feels on you, and you get to appreciate his work all over again when you notice the beautiful backsplash behind you :’) he must be that detailed and focused in all areas of his life, because somehow he’s already managed to make you cum all over his mouth and fingers too many times to count!

🏠 if you couldn’t get a good look at his craftsmanship from earlier, now you can when he bends you over the counter and fills you with his thick cock <3 he knows just what to say to have you fluttering around his length and moaning out his name: “take it, princess…”, you feel so good, baby…” “uh huh, so perfect for me…” you know how he likes to keep his hands busy, evident by the way they’re gripping and squeezing your flesh wherever they can as he pounds into you and tells you how good you’re taking him :’)

🏠 neighbor!keegan is your new favorite installation in your kitchen as he fucks you on your counter, making you arch your back for him before he coats your insides with his hot load <33 he’s quick to pick up your shaky, sexed-out body, sweeping you away to your bed before heading to your bathroom to start a bath for you. he learns something: he’d much rather keep busy taking care of you than any of his house or car projects!

🏠 you hear the bath water turn on, and neighbor!keegan is quiet for a moment before you hear him pipe up. he must he checking out your shower, already planning his next opportunity to come over, and you laugh when you hear his dry observation. “hey…think the tile might need to be fixed in here, too.” of course you’d let him start a new project in your home, as many as he wanted to, really- he’s clearly very skilled with his hands, after all ;)

[jgracie]

I CAN FIX HIM (NO REALLY I CAN)

masterlist | rules

❝ Can you please writhe a one shot with Jason and daughter of Psyche reader based on the song “I can fix him(no really i can)” by Taylor?Like imagine some time later when Jason is finally free from his demigod duties and goes to college with his friends,here he meets reader.Since she is a daughter of Psyche (the goddess of the human soul)she understands him immediately and she help him understand himself,discovering what he likes and to heal from his past and of course they fall in love. ❞ — anon

in which they shook their heads saying “god help her,” when you tell ‘em he’s your man

pairing jason grace x psyche!reader

warnings feelings of self loathing, slight bullying

on the radio . . . i can fix him (no really i can) (taylor swift)

an they r in new rome uni in this !! i feel like jason is a tad ooc but also its 11:30pm as im posting this and im tired

Everything you heard about Jason Grace screamed ‘red flag’. Son of Jupiter, ex-praetor, raised by wolves then sent to camp at the mere age of three or four - what was there not to be afraid of? To add to that, the way he carried himself exuded power in a way that would make anyone cower in fear. His face was inscrutable, crystal blue eyes unreadable in the same way the storms his father made were

However, you weren’t anyone. Your mother was Psyche, goddess of the soul. And as a daughter of Psyche, you could see right through just about everyone, including Jason Grace. Whenever you tapped into his energy, you couldn’t help but feel he was the complete opposite of what he presented himself as. While Jason seemed content with solitude to everyone around him, you knew that deep down, he was just seriously misunderstood and in desperate need for some loving

You were right. Jason’s life had been hell, especially the past couple years. His memory had been taken away from him, making him lose ties with all his friends and a potential lover, Reyna. Then, he’d gotten a new girlfriend and new friends, only for his girlfriend to dump him and his friends to all be too busy to spend a single second with him. Still, Jason had persevered. He applied and got accepted to New Rome University, he attended all his lectures, he got perfect grades, he tried his best to socialise. 

The latter never worked out though. People either saw him as Jason the traitor, the guy who’d chosen to leave with the Greeks instead of fighting for his camp (Jason would stifle a laugh at the phrase ‘his camp’ - if this were really his camp, they wouldn’t have easily found a guy who’s the epitome of everything un-Roman to replace him. They weren’t any better), or as Jason the soldier, the man who’d toppled Kronos’ throne and won in a fight against the titan Krios, absolutely untouchable and worshipped in a way that would make his father seethe with jealousy

Eventually, he gave up. If that’s how they wanted him to be, so be it. He shut himself off from the world, focusing solely on his studies and his plans for shrines for every God and Goddess. Little did he know, a certain someone was formulating the perfect plan to become his friend

Your plan backfired. You’d spent weeks keeping note of all the classes you had with Jason, even occasionally following him to see where he’d go after class (his dorm, immediately), and yet you couldn’t seem to get a single conversation out of him. The closest you’d gotten was when you sat next to him in one of your lectures and dropped your pen - he’d simply handed it to you without a word. For the split-second your fingers brushed, you took on all his pain and felt it pull you apart. How could he cope with all of this baggage? 

Luckily for you, the fates work in mysterious ways that in this case, happened to be in your favour

“Oh, I’ll leave. Sorry.” Someone mumbled from behind you. You had been having a hard time sleeping as it was exam season, meaning everyone’s late night stress as they did last minute cram sessions piled onto you, so you decided to go to the one place you knew would be quiet. It was a small garden you’d discovered as a freshman and dubbed as ‘your spot’, and you’d often come when you were feeling extra overwhelmed

Turning your head, your eyes widened as you saw none other than Jason Grace, who was about to go back to his dorm

“No, wait! You can stay, I don’t mind,” this was a first for Jason. Usually, people would go the other way at the sight of him, not offer to let him sit with them. He felt a gut-wrenching, yearning feeling in his stomach, and you felt it too. Softly, you patted the spot on the bench next to you. It was quiet between you, but with that simple gesture, you had made an everlasting mark in Jason’s mind

After that night, instead of leaving his bag on the seat next to him, Jason would put it on the floor in hopes that you’d see the empty seat and choose to sit there. You, ever the empath, did. The more you sat with Jason, the more words were said between you. You started the conversations, of course, asking him about his day and telling him about whatever minor inconvenience you had that morning

“I ran out of toothpaste,” Jason had said to you one day as you took your laptop out of your bag. This was his first time initiating a conversation. He wasn't sure why he did it, and cringed internally the moment those words came out of his mouth - toothpaste, Jason, really? - but you’d smiled and asked if he wanted to come with you to the shops after class, since you also needed to stock up on some supplies

That was the day Jason’s walls began crumbling down. Suddenly, he seemed to loosen up. His posture slackened and he smiled more often, told more jokes and even engaged in your banter. People gave the two of you weird looks as you walked around New Rome in fits of laughter, but neither of you cared 

Well, not until one fateful day. Jason had been making his way to class with two coffees in hand, one for you and one for himself, when he’d overheard two people deep in conversation. He’d never been one to eavesdrop, but when he heard your name being mentioned, he couldn’t help himself

“That poor girl, she has absolutely no idea what she’s getting herself into,” one of them said. The other hummed in agreement, pity laced in his voice 

“She thinks she’s doing a good thing, being friends with him and all, but he’s just going to break her heart like he did Reyna’s. Jason Grace is no good.”

He nearly dropped his coffees. Suddenly, all the confidence he’d built came crumbling down, being quickly replaced with those walls he knew all too well, the only things he could trust other than you. Since he loved you so dearly, this was for the best. You’d find some other guy to befriend eventually. If all of Camp Jupiter could replace him after years of service, who’s to say you couldn’t after a couple months of being friends?

Coincidentally, you happened to be looking for Jason when you saw him standing there, a blank look on his face - the same one people had warned you about in your first year at NRU. This time, however, they didn’t have a fighting chance in fooling you. Even without your powers from being Psyche’s daughter, you knew Jason was a sweet guy with the kindest heart

“Jason, are you alright?” You asked, reaching to place a tender hand on his shoulder. He pulled away and your face dropped as you tuned into his feelings and realised the old Jason was making a comeback. It’s not like he’d ever been gone, no one ever gets rid of lifelong trauma and horrible experiences that quickly, but Jason’s aura hadn’t felt that self-loathing in a very long time

Looking behind you, you saw a couple give you a pitying look and the pieces clicked immediately. Scowling at them, you took Jason by the arm and dragged him to that garden where you first spoke. The garden that was no longer just your spot

“Whatever they said, I don’t care,” you told him, “they’re wrong, Jason. You can’t listen to them. From the moment I met you I knew they were wrong. Don’t let them win.” His eyes stared into yours, completely emotionless. His guard was up, and you didn’t know why (slight btd ref!!). Didn’t he trust you? 

His voice monotone, Jason replied, “this isn’t just about them, Y/N. You have no idea what I’ve been through. You don’t deserve to have to deal with that, it could affect you too. You could be making so many friends right now and yet you haven’t, because you chose to stick with me.”

The tension rose between you and you knew there was only one thing you could do: succumb to the pull he had on you once and for all. Grabbing him by the collar, you pulled Jason closer to you and kissed him fiercely

When you pulled away, you took a second to take in Jason’s dishevelled look before replying, “I don’t care. I’ll choose to stick with you in every lifetime.”

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can I request headcanons for Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor react to his gn s/o admitting that they have suicidal thoughts?

A/N: Oh, nonnie! *Hugs* This ask was perfect timing because I was struggling with suicidal ideation last week- big time. Me and the kitchen floor were very well acquainted last week. So trust me, I know it’s not easy, but please try and hang in there. These feelings and thoughts, as awful and all-consuming as they are, are still temporary. They will pass. Everything passes eventually. It can’t stay the same forever. So if it’s bad now, just know it won’t always be this way. And in the meantime, I hope these headcanons bring you some comfort. 

TW: Suicidal Thoughts, Mentions of Suicide, Suicidal Ideation 

The BG3 Tiefling Boys Reacting to Their S/O Admiting They Have Suicidal Thoughts 

Dammon: 

Dammon’s taken aback when you tell him. The two of you being a couple has made him so happy, and he’s told you as much. In his enthusiasm, Dammon simply assumed you always felt the same level of elation he did. The fact that you have these sorts of thoughts is all news to him. 

He’s immediately concerned for your safety, worried that any second the thoughts may become too much to bear, and you’ll feel no other choice than to act on them. He contemplates speaking to someone older, someone wiser for advice on what he should do to be a supportive partner. He just wants to get this right. He doesn’t want to add any stress or difficulty to what you’re already going through with any of his reactions or fears. 

Dammon starts checking up on you more often, at random times throughout the day. He’ll take a break from his forging and pop his head inside to find you, wherever you are. Some days he sits with you and talks about the current projects he’s making. Other days the two of you sit in silence, sipping cool glasses of water. Dammon wants to ensure you don’t ever feel as if you’re going through this alone. He wants to show you that he’ll always be nearby, should you need him. 

Dammon will also make you random presents whenever he has a little extra time. It’s not much- a pendant here, or a broach there, a bunch of little things to remind you of him when he can’t be there. 

Dammon suggests you try writing your feelings out in a diary of sorts. And he promises not to peek- it's for your benefit only. His sketchbook helps him so much in trying to overcome a design flaw or difficulty. He thinks, perhaps, if you had more space to expand your feelings and thoughts onto paper, they wouldn't feel as oppressive in your mind.

You find his tail always wrapping around your ankle, or even your waist, when you're at his side. It’s like his tail is telling you what echoes in the subconscious of his mind: Dammon can’t lose you. He’s been through so much already. You have brought so much light and joy into his life. He couldn’t bear to let you go. 

He begs you, to please come to him if you should ever get to a point where you don’t know what else to do. He doesn’t want to lose you. You mean so much to him. Please, let him in. The two of you can weather this together. 

Essentially, Dammon becomes all the more attentive and upfront/vocal about his affection for you. He hopes to shower you in so much love, that the little voice in your head has no chance to bring you down. 

Rolan: 

Rolan is sickened, and just a teensy bit angry. Not at you, but at himself. Hearing you confess to having such thoughts makes him all the more concerned about you. But of course, being the stubborn tiefling he is, Rolan doesn’t know how to say it without sounding like a dick. 

Rolan first considers looking into a spell or enchantment that can do away with such feelings, before you explain to him that, even if that were possible, in the long run, that’s not how these things work. These kinds of things can’t be fixed by magic. And even if there was a spell that might work, it’s not the kind of thing magic should be used to interfere with. This makes Rolan more irritable about the whole thing because he’s spent so long studying, building up his skills to be a wizard. But he hasn’t spent the time working on his emotional intelligence or intimacy prowess. And now, he fears that lack of proficiency may cost him you. 

But he tries! Oh boy, does he try! He’s constantly sending either Lia or Cal to check up on you when he’s too busy to come see you himself. It becomes a bit of an inside joke between the three of you, how large that one vein in Rolan’s forehead becomes whenever Cal or Lia report back to him about you. 

Once Rolan comes to understand you didn’t tell him so he’d be responsible for keeping you under watch, but because you just wanted him to ‘get it’, he becomes much less overbearing in his instructions. Instead of ordering you to go outside for some sun, he’ll offer to take a stroll with you around Sorcerous Sundries. Rather than forcing you to eat every couple of hours, Rolan will show up in your room some night with a select baked goods he picked up from a street vendor for you to share over tea before falling asleep. 

He has difficulty talking about it most days, but he does hold your hands and tell you once, very passionately, that he cares for you, deeply, and he hates to think you were hurting all this time in silence. He asks you to please, please keep sharing your feelings with him. He knows his reactions aren’t always the most encouraging, but he swears that no matter his initial reaction, he will always be on your side. 

Deep down he does want to take care of you, he feels responsible for your well-being. It’s rather similar to how he feels responsible for providing for Lia and Cal. But with you, it’s all the more profound. There’s no point in him studying to become the greatest wizard in Baldur’s Gate if you’re not at his side. Without you, very little would seem worth it.  

Zevlor:

Zevlor is alarmed, and immediately all the more worried about your well-being. Zevlor was already anxious before about the two of you being together, thinking of himself as undeserving. He felt he was too old, too damaged, and too changed to be a man worthy of your affections. Becoming an official couple quieted most of those doubts but hearing you confess that you harbor such thoughts brings all his insecurities back to the forefront. 

Is it something he’s done? Is it something he didn’t do? Is it his fault? He’s already apologizing profusely before you can even get a word in edgewise. You are so incredible, he thinks you’re so brilliant. The fault must lie with him. 

Once you explain how it’s not anybody’s fault, neither his nor yours, Zevlor seems to settle a little. He still worries a great deal about you, probably the most out of all the tieflings, because he knows the exact desperation you’re feeling. He’s felt it before. He’s felt it a few times throughout his life actually. 

As a Hellrider, Zevlor saw a great deal of conflict. And when Elturel fell into Avernus, he was forced to endure even more. There’s so much pain and suffering in the world that when you’re stuck in the middle of it, it often seems like there’s no way out. 

Because Zevlor has felt such lows before, he also knows there isn’t always much you can do to stop it right away. Yes, you can meditate or talk your feelings out or perhaps write them down in a journal or log, but there’s no quick fix. It’s a heavy burden you must carry, even as you look out into the coming horizon. 

The one thing Zevlor knows he can do is help you carry the load. Zelvor reminds you that you are not alone in this fight. Granted, he may no longer be the paladin he once was, but that will not stop him from aiding you the best he can. He’ll pay you extra attention, and spend more quality time with you. He’ll sit with you and rub your back as you cry. And on the days it's all just too much to take, Zevlor will stay in bed with you, his tail curled around your leg, his claws scratching gently through your hair as you lay there hiding away from the world. 

If your feelings ever get worse, Zevlor might consider recommending you speak to someone who perhaps can help, more than he can help you alone. A cleric or a monk, a druid… Anyone. Zevlor knows from his fellow veterans- there are more people out there living with the exact same feelings as you. Perhaps being able to attend a group setting to talk, as he does on occasion with his former Hellriders from Elturel, would help strengthen you on your continued journey.  

Zevlor approaches the situation with much more wisdom and understanding. He works to comfort you the best he can, but he also possesses enough humility to let you grieve as needed. 

[daddy-dins-girl]

Playdate - Chapter Eight

IMPORTANT NOTE: I'm posting both chapters 7 and 8 today so just make sure you didn't actually miss 7 or this one might not make much sense, lol. Also I'd recommend having chapter 7 fresh in your mind when you read this one. This chapter serves as an 'interlude' chapter that occurs before/during/after Chapter 7 but is told from Dave and Marcus' POV's (not Reader's). One final note, a page break/divider indicates a shift of POV to another character, but hopefully that comes across easily enough in the writing anyway.

Main Masterlist Series Masterlist

AO3 link

pairing: Marcus Pike x f! Reader x Dave York

Word Count: 5.1k

Notes: Who gave me the right to put all this ANGST in my PORN story? dw, I have a couple more chapters planned out, I'll fix this mess I've created eventually :P

Chapter Warnings (BIG TIME spoilers in the warnings... I'd recommend skipping them if you don't want to be spoiled. If you're at this point in this story, you're fine with whatever I have left to throw at you lol): 18+ MDNI. M/M (Yeah that's right. Reader who? Sorry babe, I'll make it up to you next time!). Oral sex. Hand jobs. Anal play. A shower stall is our 3rd main character in this chapter. Inexperienced!Marcus. Dom!Dave. Daddy Kink. Derogatory talk. Praise kink. Little sprinkling of Soft!Dave. Porn with too many feelings that these idiot men don't know what to do with (we'll work on them, ok?). Infidelity-ish (again, these three got some shit to work out).

MASSIVE thank you for @janaispunk for beta'ing and being my sounding board.

Page dividers by the generous and talented @saradika-graphics

When restfulness fails to come for Dave he eventually decides to pull himself away from the two sleeping forms next to him in the bed and head off to the shower instead. He could use a thorough washing, and not to mention the relaxing spray and solace of the shower may just offer him a bit of a chance to clear his head, hopefully.

Letting out a heavy sigh once he reaches the bathroom near the front entryway of the suite he shrugs off the oversized fluffy hotel robe and hangs it on the back of the door before closing it shut, reaching inside the shower stall and turning the temperature up to near scalding. He hisses the moment he steps inside the large enclosure, immediately turning his back to the water and facing the door instead but within a few seconds the temperature starts to feel perfect and he rolls his shoulders and aching muscles under the steady beat of the massaging spray.

“Fuck” he groans, head tilting back to let the water wash over his face and through his hair. In hindsight he maybe should’ve had a cold shower because he’s been rocking a semi for the last… god knows… since not long after his two bedmates had fallen asleep. He resists the urge to wrap his fist around himself and take care of it solo, thinking he can will it away with sheer mental focus instead. As if he could focus on much of anything right now. His mind was scrambled, and that just wasn’t Dave. He had an innate ability to compartmentalize, always had. It’s what made him so good at his job and had gotten him through many obstacles in his life thus far. But then he met fucking Marcus Pike, which ultimately, also led him to you, and now here he was playing fucking house with what was meant to be a one or two time fun “hookup” and goddamit if he didn’t feel himself starting to fall. What’s worse is that he hadn’t just fallen for you, either. Annoyed with himself yet again for not being able to shut his brain off, Dave turns around to face the spray again and gets to the task of washing his hair instead, needing something else to focus on besides the insistent need that’s hanging between his legs.

The quiet ‘snick’ of the bathroom door latching shut catches Dave’s attention, even with his head under the hot spray of the water in the oversized walk-in shower, because of course it does. Dave is always super aware and hyper vigilant, even when in a relaxed environment. His eyes squeezed shut as he rinses the shampoo from his hair and back turned to the door he calls out, “it’ll be all yours in a minute, almost done here”

So when he hears the sound of the glass door sliding open and the cool air hitting his back, despite his offer to give up the shower momentarily, he chuckles. A low, raspy laugh from deep in his throat as he pushes his hair back on his head and finally turns around, his eyebrow raising in amusement as his gaze settles on his unexpected visitor standing just outside the shower door.

“Well, what have we here?”

Marcus doesn’t say a word. Too nervous he’ll psyche himself out if he attempts to speak. Instead he unwraps the towel from around his waist, leaving him fully naked and exposed, and tosses it to the ground behind him before stepping inside the enclosure and sliding the glass door shut behind him.

Dave waits, stock still, because he hadn’t been expecting this. Not that he should be too surprised, he supposed. It was probably bound to happen and truth be told he was far from mad about it. Over time he’d grown to care for Marcus a lot, and more than what he knew was realistic for a ‘friendship’. And with the fondness for Marcus growing so did the sexual tension, he supposed. It wasn’t immediate, as he had felt with you, but as he spent more and more time with both of you Marcus had unknowingly carved out a spot for himself under Dave’s skin, just as you had on that very first night he’d met you. It started out slowly, he would feel his own arousal spike watching Marcus get pleasure but he had chalked that up to being natural, not unlike getting off to watching porn. But then it started to change, and Dave began to wonder what it might be like for him to give Marcus that pleasure and earlier this evening he gave in and did exactly that. Holding his hands around Marcus as the younger man submitted to him and came with Dave’s mouth at his ear nearly had Dave spilling inside of you the moment Marcus let go. He loved hearing the sweet cries from Marcus’ perfect pouty lips as Dave held him tight to his naked chest. And the way you looked up at both of them, pure lust and adoration in your gaze he felt his chest constrict around his heart like it might just explode.

In that moment he wanted to just gather you both in his arms and tell you, beg you, to keep him.

And now, here Marcus stood just inches away from him, naked and vulnerable.

Dave was well and truly fucked.

Swallowing the thick lump in his throat from his nerves, Marcus carefully, slowly and wordlessly sinks to his knees in front of Dave and pauses. Peering up at him with those honeyed brown eyes, silently begging for whatever had come over him to be reciprocated. He’d woken up when he felt the weight under the mattress shift when Dave had gotten up and watched with more focus than what was probably considered appropriate at the back side of Dave’s naked form as he crossed the room and snagged a robe from the back of the door and threw it on. Marcus had to stifle a groan as he felt his cock instantly begin to swell at just the sight of the slightly older man before him. Once he exited the bedroom Marcus let out a sigh and dropped his head back to the pillow with a heavy thud, closing his eyes and focusing his breathing for a few seconds but still, his dick betrayed him. He rolled over to his side and watched your sleeping form, debating whether he should wake you to help him with his little situation or not but quickly dismissed the notion. He knew you must be exhausted, it wasn’t like you to be sleeping in the middle of the day so clearly you were worn out. Plus he’s pretty sure the actual reason for his current state of arousal just walked out the bedroom door anyway.

He lays in bed for as long as he can stand it, until he hears the shower come to life on the other side of the suite and his cock twitches again involuntarily, his mind conjuring up images of Dave naked and letting the hot spray of the water cascade all over his body and suddenly Marcus feels jealous over a fucking shower head of all things. Before long he finds himself getting up and out of bed, quickly tying a discarded towel around his waist before he leaves the bedroom and makes his way through the suite.

A grin spreads across Dave’s lips as the hot water continues to beat down his back and he reaches a hand forward, gripping the younger man’s jaw in his hand and angling him further upward as his thumb gently caresses back and forth at his cheek as he rasps out, “Well what are you waiting for, Champ? This cock isn’t going to suck itself”

After taking in a quick deep breath to steel his nerves, Marcus, ever obedient, presses forward. His eyes close as he takes Dave’s semi-hard length into his mouth, his lips wrapping around him as he finds his footing, as it were, never having actually done this before.

“Eyes on me Slugger” Dave tuts, hand going underneath Marcus’ chin and forcing his gaze upwards with the flick of a single knuckle. Marcus’ gaze is weak as he tries desperately to hold Dave’s but when he feels Dave begin to grow and swell against his tongue he gets a newfound confidence and can’t help the low moan that leaves his throat as he envelops him further into his mouth and finally begins to move his tongue and lips around him, licking and sucking and tasting every inch offered to him. He may not know exactly what he’s doing, but he does know what feels good to him and tries his best to mimic those same behaviors.

He pulls off for just a moment, collecting saliva in the back of his throat and messily spitting onto Dave’s length before he wraps his mouth around it again and begins to bob his head back and forth, letting his tongue drag along the underside as he swallows him down the best he can, easing off only slightly when the thick head of him nears too far to the back of his throat and causes him to momentarily gag before he resituates himself to a comfortable feel and can enthusiastically continue.

“Fuck, that’s it. Good boy,” Dave sighs, hand pushing through Marcus’ golden brown locks and a little whimper escapes Marcus at the subtle praise, eyelids fluttering shut for only a moment before he remembers Dave’s words from earlier and opens them again to hold Dave’s gaze. “You suck cock almost as good as your wife, you know that pretty boy?” Dave teases and despite himself, it only turns Marcus further on. He takes one hand and wraps it around the base of Dave’s cock to pump as much as his shaft that won’t fit in his mouth while the other hand goes to his own aching need as he begins stroking himself to the same pace that his head bobs.

“Fuck” Dave curses again, a little breathless this time as his head tilts back into the spray of water. He wraps his hand around the back of Marcus’ head and helps him by setting the pace that he wants, fast and rough and nearly hitting the back of Marcus’ throat each time his hips jut forward. Marcus does his best to take him but before long he’s coughing, sputtering, gagging and gasping for breath as he pulls off of him after just a few short seconds of Dave fucking his throat, a long strand of saliva still connecting him to the now rock hard cock in his face and Dave lets out a little chuckle at Marcus’ obvious inexperience.

“Well, maybe you could learn a thing or two” Dave laughs. “Up,” he commands suddenly, hand gripping under Marcus’ bicep and hauling him quickly to his feet. Marcus goes willingly, all too eager to comply as Dave turns him to face the wall, grabs both of his hands and forces them above his head and flat against the warm tiles. Dave quickly crowds his space, stepping up behind him, the hot, hard length of him pressed right up against Marcus’ lower back.

His breathing laboured, Marcus tenses momentarily but then relaxes as he feels a large wet hand slide down his side, across the smooth skin of his hip and lower still until it ghosts over the globes of his ass and then back up to hold firmly at his hip again as Dave leans forward, breath hot against Marcus’ ear.

“Colour?” He asks and Marcus takes a steadying breath.

“Green. Uh… green. I - I think” he stammers out nervously. Dave hums before his hand snakes forward to grasp around Marcus’ hard, leaking cock and gives it a light squeeze that has Marcus whimpering.

“I’d say you’re doing just fine” Dave taunts before he languidly strokes Marcus a few times, causing his knees to nearly buckle as a desperate whine escapes his lips.

“I’m uh.. I’ve never.. with…” Marcus trails off, his eyes squeezing shut when Dave gently ruts into his back, his hand still slowly stroking him. “H-Have you?”

“When you’re young and in your prime and stuck in the service for twelve plus months at a time, a warm mouth is a warm mouth” Dave shrugs nonchalantly. “But it’s not something I indulged in often, or ever pursued outside of that environment” he adds, still slowly working Marcus over with shallow pumps of his fist. “Truth be told I’ve never looked at or even thought twice about another man. That is, until you”. He finishes the last part quietly, like it's a secret he can’t voice out loud.

“S-same here” Marcus stutters, eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on his breathing, hoping to stave off his orgasm for at least a little while longer. “Did you ever, ah fuck” Marcus groans, trailing off as his train of thought leaves him when Daves hand comes up to pay special attention to the head of his cock, his hand twisting just right over and over again at the sensitive tip.

“Did I ever what? Hmmm?” Dave taunts, hand stilling around Marcus as he lowers his hips slightly and presses further against him, his stiff length now pressing into the meat of Marcus’ asscheek. “Did I ever fuck a man’s tight little asshole?” He asks into the shell of Marcus’ ear and Marcus shudders before biting back a moan and nodding his head.

“No” Dave answers honestly. “Why, did you want to be the first?” He chuckles, rutting into him and Marcus lets out a stuttering gasp before shaking his head against the tiles.

“I don’t think… I’m not… No. I… I don’t know” Marcus answers helplessly, his shoulders tensing.

“Relax baby, relax” Dave soothes, pulling his hips back slightly but resting his forehead on Marcus’ shoulder. “You don’t have to be ready for that right now. And to be honest, if my cock is going to be in your ass then I want yours inside your wife so I can fuck you both at the same time” he chuckles darkly into the heated skin of Marcus’ back and a shiver passes through Marcus’ whole body at just the thought of that.

“Oh you like that don’t you” Dave laughs again. Feeling Marcus twitch in his hand gets Dave’s dominant confidence swelling in his chest again and he easily slips into the role he prefers to play, where he feels the most comfortable and less vulnerable.

“Wanna be the meat in our little fuck sandwich, sweet boy?” Dave taunts, his hand going back to slowly stroking Marcus again. “You gonna fuck your tight little ass against my fat cock while you’re buried inside of her?”

“Jesus, fuck” Marcus groans. He’d never once judged his wife for what she was into, but now he understood it first hand. The way Dave could have you falling apart just by the words that leave his mouth.

“Maybe a little friendly competition, see who can cum inside of who first” he laughs darkly and Marcus’ whole body shudders as a wrecked moan escapes him.

Dave hands picks up the pace a little as Marcus squeezes his eyes shut, face resting against his own forearm and teeth clenched as Dave draws him closer and closer to that edge he’s been teetering on since he sunk to his knees in front of the man in question just minutes ago.

He didn’t know what came over him, what possessed him to get out of bed and follow after Dave, but he couldn’t get what happened earlier out of his head. The way Dave had wrapped his hand around his throat, called him his good boy, and made him cum so hard his vision nearly blacked out. He needed more. Dave was like a drug, he understood it now. An addiction, a craving that could never be satisfied, always leaving you wanting more.

His breath catches in his throat when he feels Dave’s free hand that’s not currently wrapped around him back at his ass, a single finger sliding through the cleft of his wet cheeks until it stops to tease at his hole. The pad of his finger presses at the puckered flesh but doesn’t breach inside, just wanting to rile Marcus up and it is absolutely working as the younger man whimpers and squirms under Dave’s hands. Dave shifts slightly so that the water beats down more so on Marcus, ensuring he’s not dry as Dave continues to tease him.

“Colour” Dave demands again, finger pressing in again with just a fraction more pressure than the previous time.

“Green, fuck. Please” Marcus is trembling, his body leaning against the wall the only thing holding him upright and he feels the smirk reach across Dave’s face from where his mouth is still pressed to his ear.

“That’s my good boy” Dave chuckles. The sound of Dave spitting a giant glob of saliva between Marcus’ cheeks is downright sinful as it echoes off the four walls of the shower enclosure and Marcus has to bite into the meat of his own arm to keep from moaning too loudly when Dave finally pushes a single saliva slicked finger just inside as he continues to stroke Marcus’ length with delicate precision.

“Oh my god, oh fuck! I’m - ” Marcus cries out at the welcomed intrusion of Dave’s finger, barely inside but slowly moving back and forth creating just enough of a foreign pressure that it’s enough to push Marcus over that edge within seconds. He orgasms with a wrangled cry leaving his lips, spurts of his warm spend splattering onto the tiles in front of him and down Dave’s hand that still loosely grips him as he continues to pump him dry.

“That’s it” Dave’s voice soothes against his ear, still gently working him over with both hands as Marcus comes down from his high. “So good for your Daddy, hmmm?”

“Mmmhmmm, fuck” Marcus groans out once more, leaning heavily into the tiles now, shoulders and chest heaving with each laboured breath he takes. He lets out another whimper as Dave gently slips his finger out, sighs happily when he feels Dave’s lips press into his shoulder blade.

“Okay?” Dave breathes against Marcus' warm flesh, checking in with him and the younger man can do little but eagerly nod his head, still trembling in the aftershocks of his orgasm. Dave’s hand still wrapped around Marcus’ length finally slows to a stop and he releases him fully, both arms coming up to wrap around Marcus’ middle and hold him tight against his chest for a long moment and Marcus sighs happily, sated, leaning into the warmth Dave offers. He does his best to ignore the little flutter he feels in his chest as Dave's lips continue to pepper little kisses across the back of his neck and shoulders, wills his own heart to stop hammering in his chest when Dave breathes in deep and then rests his check against Marcus' back, apparently content to just hold him until his own breathing evens out.

“What um… what about you?” Marcus asks meekly. He hadn’t exactly gotten to finish what he’d started earlier once the attention shifted to him and his own pleasure. He can still feel Dave pressed into his back, though with the delay for his own gratification Dave has softened somewhat again, his needs seemingly less urgent now.

“Let me finish getting cleaned up in here and then why don’t we meet back in bed, hmm?” He finishes his thought with a sharp little smack to Marcus’ ass and chuckles before he bites down gently onto his shoulder. “See if you can wake up that wife of yours while you’re at it”

“Yeah, o-okay” Marcus stammers, stealing himself for a moment before he heaves a deep sigh, lets his shoulders relax and finally reaches for the shower door and slides it open. Dave lets him go, watches with piqued interest as Marcus bends over to pick up his earlier discarded towel and secure it back around his waist again, and then, he’s gone. Door closing shut behind him again and leaving Dave to finish his shower in privacy.

Dave is doing his best to act nonchalant, normal, though nothing about what just took place was normal for either of them. He’d never held another man in an embrace like that before and found himself not even wanting to let go. It took everything in him not to spin Marcus around and hold him even closer. And it wasn’t just sexual, this feeling he suddenly had. Though that part was definitely good too, but now he felt himself feeling suddenly nervous about going back out there, like he was completely transparent and the two of you would see through him immediately. He dreads the day, and he has a feeling it’s coming soon, that the two of you extract yourselves from his life. He knows the texts and visits will become fewer and farther between until suddenly he stops hearing from you all together and he’ll go back to his life before the two of you were in it, wishing he’d never gone along with it in the first place because then he wouldn’t be in the fucking predicament he found himself in now.

He should put a stop to this himself before that happens, he thinks. Like a bandaid, just rip it off and the pain will dissipate before he even notices it’s there, right? He can fake a work emergency, or say somethings come up with his children and he needs to cut this weekend short. You’ll both understand, of course you will. Maybe even be secretly relieved that you can spend the rest of your time here together with just the two of you.

He’s doing everyone a favour, he thinks.

Mind made up, he takes a little extra time than necessary in the shower, turning the temperature way down to hopefully rid him of what’s left of his hard-on and finishes cleaning himself off, being sure to scrub every inch of his body to wash away any lingering traces of this weekend from his skin, hopefully soon enough from his memory. He takes the removable shower hose off the fixture as well and sprays down the tiles where Marcus’ cum still lingers, watching it wash down the drain past his feet and then hangs the shower head back up and finally turns the taps off and steps out.

Speech fully prepared in his head, what he didn’t expect was to walk back into the bedroom to see you with a very worried expression on your face and for a moment, he feels his heart literally fall into his stomach. Did Marcus just confess what happened and you’re so enraged you’re about to throw him out on his ass? Throw your husband out too? Likely not the latter, he thinks. If anything it’s probably further cementing the fact that the two of you need Dave out of your lives, he’s only going to cause problems in what is a beautiful, perfect marriage.

“You have to go?!” He hears you say and oh. So Marcus is leaving? He asks what’s going on and then just hangs back after Marcus responds to him but then focuses his attention back to you, Dave idly listening to the conversation in the background as your husband continues to apologize to you about an apparent “work emergency” that’s come up.

Dave was already set in his decision to leave, but with Marcus going he knows he really, really needs to leave. Being alone with you might just kill him, and he doesn’t deserve a death that blissful, he reasons with himself.

Not long after saying an endearing goodbye to you, Marcus brushes past Dave with a vague ‘see ya later’ and just like that, he’s gone and Dave is left alone with the person currently possessing the other half of his traitorous heart. The heart that wasn’t supposed to fall for either of these two people who already belonged to each other, let alone apparently falling for both of them.

Marcus is in the cab, half way back to his own house where he most certainly does not have any type of work emergency waiting for him, when he starts an inner battle with himself about just what in the fuck he is doing. Should he have left? Should he turn around right now and go back and stop being a fucking coward? What the hell was he supposed to do?

He felt so fucking guilty the moment his orgasm ripped through him like a freight train with Dave’s hands on him and you nowhere in sight that he just couldn’t get out of that hotel room fast enough. He had cheated on you, in his mind. What’s worse is that it wasn’t even all sexual, though that is how it started and how he pursued it but his feelings for Dave were beginning to get overwhelming and he thought maybe if he just ‘got it out of his system’ he could forget about it and move on, but then Dave had to go and fucking hold him afterwards and asked him back to bed and his throat just plummeted into his stomach. How could he just walk out of that bathroom and pretend that never happened? Is that what Dave wanted? Or did Dave want you to know exactly what happened? How would you react? Marcus didn’t even have his own feelings about the whole thing sorted out, he couldn’t expect you to understand. He crossed a line, that much he knew.

Ultimately he decided to let the cab driver continue to their destination. He was already well on his way home anyway, might as well keep going. He’d fix himself some dinner, maybe a drink and just have some time alone to sort out his thoughts before he joins you back at the hotel. He briefly wonders if Dave will still be there when he gets back. If he is, maybe it would be a good time for the three of you to have a conversation, one that’s surely long overdue. Marcus hopes he doesn’t have to speak first. What if he voices what he thinks he’s truly feeling and you all look at him like he’s grown a second head?

He’s equally worried at both ends. He’s worried that Dave, despite the tender moments he is occasionally capable of showing, might laugh the whole thing off. He signed up to be a fun ‘playmate’ for a couple of weekends here and there, not a more permanent fixture in an already existing and functioning marriage. And you… what would you even think? Sure Marcus knows you’ve warmed to Dave over the months during your encounters but you’d never discussed with Marcus that you’d felt anything for the man in question outside of sexual desire. Not to mention what would you think of him if he asked you to have another man be an active participant in your relationship? The last thing he wants is you feeling like you’re not enough for him or that something is missing from your marriage.

It would kill him if this drove any kind of rift between the two of you. No, he needs to shut up and keep whatever is in his head and his heart to himself and hope things sort themselves out. He’ll start to distance himself (and hopefully you both) from Dave and you can go back to your lives. He cares about Dave, far more than what he knows is appropriate, but he can’t lose you. He won’t.

Marcus finishes his dinner, accompanied by a rich glass of wine, and waits a while, letting his food settle and his mind attempt to find peace within the waging war that are his thoughts still battling on inside his head. A few hours since he’d left the hotel pass before he finally heads back outside to his car and types the address of the hotel into his GPS.

Dave York is a bad man. He knows it the moment he reaches the penthouse floor again, not even thirty minutes since he left it, and lifts his fist to knock at the hotel room door. He'd had every intention of getting into his car and leaving this place. Just one drink first, he'd reasoned with himself, then he'd leave.

He knew shouldn’t be here at your door now. Not without Marcus. Though, he supposes he shouldn’t have been in the shower with Marcus without you, either. Marcus knows it, clearly. It’s the only explanation for why he high-tailed it out of there with some half-assed lie of an excuse of having a work emergency on a Saturday night. Dave saw right through it of course but didn’t voice his concern, he certainly wouldn’t do that in front of you. He wouldn’t wedge himself further into the complications of your marriage than he already was.

He’s really fucked this up. But he knows, even before you pull open that door, that tonight is his last chance. The last time he’ll allow himself to see you before he forces himself to go back to his old life so you can have yours back with your husband. And if he was a better man, he would’ve just left earlier when he said he was going to and not come to see you one last time, knowing full well what he was doing and feeling and how it might affect you. How it might affect Marcus, and moreover how it might affect your relationship with Marcus.

But Dave York was not a better man. Not a good man.

Dave York was a bad, bad man.

"Hi" you breathe out the moment the door swings open and lands on him leaning against the frame on the other side.

"Hi"

Marcus lets himself into the hotel suite, quietly and carefully making his way through the rooms that are bathed in darkness, only slivers of moonlight peaking through where the curtains aren’t fully shut. Pushing open the double doors to the bedroom he frowns but is otherwise not surprised to find you sleeping alone in the bed that now seems comically oversized for just your body alone, especially given how crowded it was only hours earlier.

He glances around the room, pulling out his phone and turning on the flashlight, making sure not to shine it on you so as to not wake you up. He tilts it around the room, looking everywhere but there's no sign of Dave. His belongings seem to be gone, his duffel bag no longer occupying the corner of the bedroom where it was before. Marcus had walked through the living room to get to the bedroom so he knows he wasn’t asleep on the couch either.

Dave was gone.

Clicking off the flashlight and before he can talk himself out of doing so, Marcus taps on the Messages icon on his screen, wanting to send a quick text to your group chat, just to ensure wherever Dave was, everything was OK.

Once again Marcus gets that all too familiar feeling of his throat falling into the pit of his stomach when he reads the tiny grayed out letters that greet him at the bottom of your conversation.

Dave York has left the group.

Dun Dun Dunnnnnn! I am so sorry, but believe it or not this was my plan for this series all along from the moment you guys lovingly bullied me into turning my one-shot into a series, lol. Fear not though, we haven't seen the last of our dear Dave. He's just a bit of an idiot, and is going to continue to be one for a little while, but have faith in me.

Next Chapter

I really appreciate you taking the time to read this chapter! If you liked it please leave me a little note or a reblog, it means the world to me!

Taglist (if you want to be added - or removed!, lmk!) @senaar-ika @suzdin @boliv-jenta @prolix-yuy @vabeachazn @seasonalobession @pedroshotwifey @nerdieforpedro @chronically-ghosted @macabremads @survivingandenduring @theywhowriteandknowthings @axshadows @iamasaddie @vickywallace @lincolndjarin @its-nebuleuse @janaispunk @missladym1981 @heareball @staywildflowahchild @guelyury @anotherpedrolover @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @runningmom94 @yorksgirl @harrington-thedad @missyorkswhore @disassociation-daydreams

[autisticlancemcclain]

“Al-righty.” Shiro hums merrily to himself as he puts the car in park and holds the keys out to Keith. “Here we go.”

Keith stares at them. Shiro’s hand remains where it is, keys dangling from the key ring around his finger. His expectant look leaves Keith at a total loss.

“Did you drive me out here to murder me?” Keith asks eventually, finally breaking the building silence. He looks pointedly out the windshield, where all that is visible for miles and miles is the desert.

Shiro snorts. “Yep. You ate the last ramen pack one too many times. Time to meet your end.” He reaches over with his other hand and grabs one of Keith’s, gently prying his fist open and placing the keys into them. “No, I’m not here to murder you, doofus. That would be a horrible idea. I don’t have an alibi.”

Keith refuses to laugh at that. It’s not funny and also Keith has been warned about letting Shiro think he’s funny. It can only lead to more dad jokes, or worse. “These are your car keys,” he says, gingerly holding the objects in question.

“Yes,” Shiro says.

“Context clues imply that you are asking me to drive your car.”

“Mhm.”

“I am thirteen years of age.”

“Yep.”

“We met, famously, because I stole your car. This very car, in fact. And crashed it.”

“Correct.”

Keith blinks slowly at him. His amused expression does not shift. Keith’s not sure how else to spell things out for him, so he just shrugs. He’s not about to say no to getting a chance to drive. How many other thirteen year olds can say that a legal, licensed adult took them out to drive?

“Okay.”

He steps out of the car, Shiro quickly vacating his own seat as well. He stands outside the driver’s side as Keith settles back in behind the wheel, leaning his torso through the open window.

“Okay,” he starts, voice taking on the same instructional quality he uses to lecture. “First step: seatbelt. You know this.”

Keith dutifully buckles himself in.

“Excellent. Now you can adjust your seat — levers on the underside there, yeah. You want to be able to easily touch the pedals, but when you fully straighten your arms, they should only go to the steering wheel. You’re a little too close.” He reaches down and guides Keith’s hand along the lever, helping him push the seat back slightly. “There, perfect. See you you can reach everything, but you have lots of space to move? That’s perfect. Fix your posture, though.”

“Does that help with visibility?” Keith questions, figuring a straight back will make it easier to see over the wheel.

“Nah, I just don’t like it when you slouch. Moving on.”

Shiro quickly runs through the rest of the set up with him — adjusting his mirrors, making sure he knows where all levers and signals are, testing the brake lights. Once he’s satisfied that Keith has a general idea where everything is, he jogs over to the passenger seat and climbs in.

“Okee dokee,” he says as he flicks through radio stations so fast you can barely even hear the first couple notes. He pauses after a moment, eyes flicking to Keith, then clicks back a couple stations, finally settling on a country station playing an old Johnny Cash song. “Start the engine.”

Keith does. The old car sputters for a second, then roars to life.

“Good! Drive!”

Keith looks at him in alarm. “What? Just — go?”

Shiro grins, wide and cheeky. “Go!”

Keith doesn’t need anymore encouragement. He steps on the gas, and the car careens forward at top speeds, shooting a cloud of red dust behind them. Shiro whoops, turning the song up louder.

The wind blows loud and fast through the open windows, competing with the blasting music and whipping Keith’s hair all around his face. He gets sand in his eyes more times than he can count, but he doesn’t dare take his hands off the wheel, just blinks it away as fast as he can. He watches the speedometer climb past forty, fifty, sixty, and his belly swoops every time they ricochet up a hole and go careening back down. Every so often Shiro calls out instructions — “Look at your mirrors and your blind spot before you make turns! Foot off the gas for the first half of the turn, then accelerate through the end of it! Don’t cross your arms over the wheel! Listen to the car so you know when to shift gears!” — sometimes a little too late. Keith stalls the car more than once. He also, at one point, swerves to avoid a cactus that seems to appear out of nowhere.

But Shiro never asks him to stop. Never has him pull over, never screams at him for messing up, never chides him about his speed (which, he might add, is entirely reasonable). He only grips the ceiling handle and cheers Keith on, whooping every time they hit a bump. He only calls out words of encouragement, smiling big and proud, cheering Keith on til he’s smiling just as wide.

For the first time since he lost his Pa, Keith feels like someone wants to see him happy.

[papillon-stories]

Go Eunhyuk x reader ꕥ Argument headcanons ꕥ

OMG, I'm so sorry... ! 🫣 I was so caught up with classes and work!

I’m not blind to the requests you sent me, I just paused everything because these last few months were so intense. But I feel like writing about Eunhyuk is my only pleasure of the day (in my era delulu)

But I didn't give up, ehehe. In the meantime, here's a little headcanon, hoping you'll like it. I love you all! Please have an Eunhyuk in your life, it's important for your well-being.

Happy reading !

Warning : No warning, just a lot of fluff and broken English

He hates arguing with his s/o.

Most of the time, he is the mature one in the relationship. Most of the time.

Eunhyuk is generally very calm and not the type to start a fight, but he also has a bit of a temper.

In truth, arguments with Eunhyuk are very rare because he keeps a lot to himself, but like in any couple, arguments happen.

If something is bothering you, he will give you time to confide in him.

He wants to resolve the problem, but he tries to think about it on his own before discussing it with you.

It's important for him to understand the problem on his own (poor guy, he's going to get gray hairs from it).

If he can't find the solution himself and he sees that you're taking time to confide in him despite clearly showing your annoyance about something he might have done or said, he will eventually ask you directly what bothered you (at the right moment).

Generally, during a big argument, he prefers to leave if he feels his temper rising.

He doesn't avoid conflict, but he doesn't want to regret saying something mean out of anger.

Eunhyuk knows where it hurts, and when he's annoyed, he has a hard time holding back his words.

He can be very direct and straightforward.

He will take the time to calm down and come back to you when he's no longer heated.

You communicate a lot, and he doesn't want to be someone who leaves his significant other sad or angry at him... he doesn't want to be like his father.

Eunhyuk always takes your feelings into consideration and respects you a lot.

Because communication is good, but without understanding, it's useless.

If something annoys or saddens you, he won't dismiss your feelings and will simply try to fix it.

For him, there's always a solution.

Like you pointed out that this girl was crazy about him? She's already non-existent in his eyes.

But sometimes he finds your random outbursts of anger toward him amusing.

He finds it cute and doesn't take them too seriously.

"Why are you laughing? I'm serious."

There are no real reasons to be angry with each other.

Maybe out of jealousy?

YES ! In a relationship, he has no reason not to be honest with his feelings.

If something annoys him, he will probably take his time to talk to you about it.

He has enough trust in you to know that you won't hurt his feelings.

Despite his attitude, Eunhyuk is someone who thinks a lot.

He constantly questions himself.

The truth is, he will distance himself from you to sort out his thoughts because he knows that talking about it in the heat of the moment can escalate things.

You will notice his change and decide to talk to him about it.

Again, the last thing he wants is to hurt you.

But he knows that sometimes his silence can hurt more than harsh words, so he will come back quickly.

The best thing about your arguments is your reconciliations!

You cherish your relationship.

If he acted poorly, he will be the first to come to you and timidly apologize.

Conversely, if you are at fault, he will wait for you to take the first step.

He doesn't really expect apologies; he just wants you to understand his point of view.

Depending on the severity of the argument, he might ignore you at first.

Again, he needs time; he is constantly reflecting when it comes to you.

But he will never push you away if you come to make peace.

In essence, arguments are rare, but when they happen, you know how to handle them.

Thank you for reading ! Do you have any suggestions ? :)

[atwingeofcringe]

Little Bear

A/N: i know i said id write a cuddly morning with jason but this one kinda skipped to the front of my brain 😅

Summary: You hide something that Jason loves in an effort to spend more time with him.

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,070

🪓

Jason likes to stick to a routine. Wake up before the sun rises, get ready, eat, kiss you, then leave for most of the day to check his traps if they need fixing, moving, or if some unlucky soul got caught in one. All of this before you wake up. It was very rare to wake up and see Jason still home. The only times you’re able to catch him before he leaves is if you wake up early enough, yuck, or if he slept in, which, again, is rare. You know he’s just making sure that his land and you are safe but… you missed him.

You never knew when he’d return home. Sometimes it was very late, other times you wouldn’t see him for a couple days if he was having any kind of trouble. Sometimes you wished he’d just stay home and spend time with you, just forget about trespassers for a bit. That may be asking too much though.

But, today you had a plan. Well, really, you thought of it last night. You felt a little bad but also you couldn’t help but giggle as you pretended not to not notice Jason shuffling from room to room, searching for something.

Jason had already been set behind in his routine when he woke up with you sleeping fully on top of him, your face buried in his chest. He thought it was sweet and didn’t want to wake you so he allowed himself to stay until you woke up. Now, he was searching high and low for an item he hated being without. It was a crudely carved figuring in the shape of a small bear. You made it for him when he was teaching you about whittling. At first you were embarrassed about how it looked and wanted to throw it away and try again, but Jason insisted on keeping it anyway and hardly parted with it since.

You touched the heart shaped necklace hanging around your neck as you thought about that memory and smiled. Jason made you the heart trinket and carved both of your initials into it. You loved it as much as he loved that ugly little bear you made. Eventually, you turned it into a necklace so you’d never lose it.

Speaking of losing something, Jason tapped your shoulder and spun around, looking up at him. He shoved his hand into his jacket pocket and turned it inside out, showing that his beloved bear was no longer in there. He knows he had it when he got home, because he checked, but not sure what happened after that.

“I’m sorry, Jay, I haven’t seen it.” You shook your head and gave him a sympathetic pat on his arm. His shoulders slumped and he sighed, finally feeling defeated. It broke your heart a little seeing him like that. “I can help you look if you want!” You offered happily.

Jason looked over his shoulder put the window. It’s getting later in the morning and he might not have time finish his tasks before the day ends. Still, he didn’t want to leave without the bear trinket and turned back to you, nodding yes.

You spent another couple hours helping him. He’d tap you on the shoulder if you were looking in a place he already checked. When you were sure a room had been fully searched he’d huff and move on to the next. The only place left was the living room. He checked behind his favorite chair and then turned to see you bent over, checking under the couch.

His brow raised behind his mask as his eyes landed on a small lump in your back pocket. It was the exact same size and shape as his bear. Jason rolled his eyes and shook his head and walked over to you. He couldn’t believe you had been hiding it from him this entire time.

A tap on your shoulder interrupted your search and you stood up. “Did you find it?” You asked, trying to sound hopeful.

He wanted to be snarky and say yes, then pull it out of your pocket. But, he thought of something else to get you back. He slumped his shoulders again and shook his head no, then turned towards the door, signaling he had to go. He definitely wasn’t getting much done today.

“I’m sorry, Jason.” You hugged him. “I’ll keep an eye out for it ok?”

He nodded, hugging you back. You leaned up to kiss him goodbye but he moved to turn back towards the door at the last second, making you miss him entirely. It surprised you and you stood there with a look of stun and confusion as he left. As soon as he got to the bottom of the stairs he started counting down in his head.

3, 2, 1…

You flung open the door and yelled at him. “I don’t get a kiss goodbye?!”

Jason stopped on his tracks and faced you. You jogged down the steps and up to him with an offended expression. He lifted his mask, revealing his smug smile.

The heat a blush warmed your cheeks. “W-what?” Uh-oh, he knows! “Can’t I just have a kiss before you go?”

Jason stuck out his hand and waited. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back your smile. The bear was removed from your back pocket and gently placed into Jason’s giant palm, making it look smaller that it really was.

“Can I have a kiss now?” You asked, hopeful.

With that he pulled you into him and pressed his lips to yours.

“I’m sorry!” You said shamefully when you pulled away. “I just miss you so much when you’re gone all day so I wanted to spend more time with you.” You looked down at your feet feeling bad about what you did. You know how much he loves that bear.

Hearing you say that made Jason feel bad now. He frowned and cupped your face, his thumb lightly caressing your cheek. Another kiss was pressed to your forehead as a way of saying ‘I’m sorry.’

The day was already half over and he knows he won’t be able to get much done now anyway. Without another thought Jason scooped you up, making you let out a surprised gasp that formed into a fit giggles, and brought you back into the cabin.

Today he’s all yours.

[rilakeila]

don't kiss and do tell, or where you and him have to kiss to prove a point that you're dating

word count 724 fandom harry potter pairing slytherin boy (draco, enzo, mattheo, theo, etc.) x gn!reader warnings none

summary you both have to prove that you guys are together but only at the expense of breaking one of the rules on your contract

BROKEN. you figured that you would have to eventually break the second clause of the contract, but not as soon as you thought you were going to have to. in honesty, it was not that big of a deal. you did not understand what was bothering you about breaking one rule. it did not mean anything. well, maybe it was the fact it was not out of love, but you can always retract your first, right?

“some people don’t believe that we’re dating, because we’re not openly affectionate,” he leaned against his chair, taking what may be his seventh break from studying his notes, more so the notes that you had to revise since he does what he calls his short-handed notes, also known as not paying attention enough to write the need to knows. 

you looked up from filling in the rest of his notes, “well, not all relationships are lovey-dovey. makes me gag a little, thinking about having to make out with my significant other, just to prove love. plus, we agreed to show little affection, you were the one who added the very minimal affection.”

“well, it would have been rude of me to overstep your boundaries or to disregard the vast amount of stories that makes you being a hopeless romantic quite obvious. a first kiss at a sunset, flower field, or at the lake. as long as it’s nothing too public,” he summarized your rambling about how you were heavily opposed to losing your first kiss because the want in having a perfect moment to remember.

“aww, i didn’t realize that you cared about me so much. you’re not falling for me, are you?” you wiggled the quill in his face before tickling the feathered end to the tip of his nose. 

he batted the pen away, trying to stop himself from sneezing at the ticklish sensation, “i’m just being respectful.”

you snorted before resorting back to fixing his notes, “okay, whatever you say. just found it funny that you remembered all of that.”

there was not a response, just him looking around the library to find the next most interesting to look and watch. you glanced up to him, only to see that he was carefully listening to the group of students that was a shelf or two over, seeing how far he was tilting his chair. you almost snorted once more, as he almost fell backwards by being leaning too far back. again, the second time in one study session.

“how far can we go on clause two?” he whipped his head back, the sound of his chair creating a loud as he stopped leaning backwards and instead reaching over the table to look at you.

his presence a lot closer than before, feeling his breathe and even almost hearing the sound of his blinking. you stayed in his proximity, he opted to stare at you in a closer range than you first appreciated, but it felt… nice. you cocked your head to the side, giving him the same amount of eye contact. even if he does this often and felt rather awkward the first couple of times, it felt.. nice. you cleared your throat, “well, what are you thinking?”

“the students over are gossiping again, saying that a kiss seals the deal and they’ll send someone over to do a walk by,” he adjusted his chair, sliding over to yours, grabbing a couple of looks from those in front of you from the sound of the loud chair once again.

“a cheek kiss, maybe. on the lips, feign it, maybe. i don’t know, like i wouldn’t mind. why, what do you in m,” you matched his hushed tones, watching him scramble for a book, just as confused.

though, your rambling was cut off as the student that was supposed to do the walk by came into the peripheral of your eyes. the sight was soon covered, as he lifted an open book in front of you, feeling his closeness yet again. before having the chance to say anything, his lips met yours, even if prying eyes cannot peek past the obstacle. nice. the only word you can think of, nice. what felt so long yet short, he pulled away, only to have that pompous smirk on his face.

“you’re not falling for me, are you?”

[bbrokenbback]

I guess it`s somehow an addition to the previous post with crazy pairings, but this time it`s not about dices deciding on our future but me. So, I present you the worst and the best questionable pairings from Warhammer 30k. The position of the character in the *name*/*name* thing is important.

Sanguinius/Rogal Dorn and NOT the other way around.

Sanguinius, just as Vulkan, can be paired with anyone if you`re brave enough, but I think he looks the best with that Imperial Fist in his ass. The Siege of Terra is the basis of their relationship because nothing attracts people to each other better than shared suffering and the same tragedy.

Sanguinius is the soldier who`s general doesn`t want to let him go to the field because he values him too much personally. But he still goes, yet, as he was asked from the general, never says “goodbye”. And Rogal is dying inside while trying to keep track of everything that is going on in and out of the Palace, receiving special reports about the Angel`s wellbeing. He just cares about him too much, and, since he technically has the right to prevent Sanguinius from throwing himself out only to be eaten by a bunch of heretics, he uses it quite often. Even if it doesn`t stop the Angel at all.

The hawk boy is just happy to come back to someone who waits for him from the battlefield.

I sincerely believe that the future in which there`s only war we desperately need some angsty fluff, and those two make the best of it.

2. Vulkan/Ferrus, for the balance of universe.

The previous couple was all about softness and fluff, about how feelings bloom in people in spite of the Great War. But these too exist only because they match.

They are both from death worlds, and both Medusa and Nocturne, if I remember it correctly, are not actually considered to be death worlds, but they are. It`s probably because Vulcan didn’t want to send people away from their homes and Ferrus was just to lazy to apply for the status of his homeworld.

Ferrus also needs someone who`d kick his ass, and there was a scene in canon that showed how desperately he wanted to fight with Vulkan in his special training cage for strong opponents, but Vulkan refused. Probably because he knew too well that Ferrus` pride would not hold against the reality in which he`s not the perfect one.

But I think eventually he would agree, after Ferrus made him a little too frustrated with his demeanor. He`d brutally beat him and then calmly explain to him why it`s so important to be polite and respectful to people.

Fulgrim also does not deserve Ferrus so let the forge boys stay together please.

3. Roboute Guilliman/Perturabo

That`s pretty simple actually. I don`t remember who exactly said it here, but Roboute is just Forrix with no spice, and Perturabo, being Greek, probably hates spicy food. Roboute has a thing for fixing everything around him, and Perturabo desperately needs someone who would fix him.

Or they can become worse together, it depends on how you look at the couple.

They both are also two representatives of high-functioning depression, but Roboute is someone who tries to hide his condition by throwing off formal parties and dressing in colorful clothes, while Perturabo shows it off, bearing his burden proudly in front of everyone (it makes everyone uncomfortable). They have incredibly similar personalities if you look closer, their perfectionism, their intelligent sarcasm and their intelligence and education in general.

Also, Roboute is not that calm and collected as he is usually shown. He`s got a short temper just like Perturabo, his rage rises in a matter of seconds. He just knows how to control it and most of the time does not allow his frustration to affect his actions. Unlike Perturabo.

They make a great team in work and for both of them this fact is very important. Roboute likes to plan everything, Perturabo likes to follow plans. Perturabo is a tactician and Roboute is a strategist. Roboute is the sword and Perturabo is the shield.

I can see them having a noble slow burn with lots of long conversations about philosophy, art and history, during which Perturabo finally gets to talk about the things he actually like and Roboute gets to know the man behind the armor. They fall for each other slowly but surely.

And Roboute can keep Perturabo loyal, not to the Imperium, but to himself.

4. Mortarion/Lorgar Aurelian

This might be the strangest pairing so far but don`t worry it`s the last of them. I`ve already mentioned that to me there`s no greater basis for the relationship than shared suffering and I want to add hate to everyone around the couple to it.

Mortarion is a gentle soul. He has a tough personality, but he`s soft in hearts, so he protects them at all costs. And Lorgar knows too well how to treat gentle souls properly.

Aurelian probably sees Mortarion as his own younger self, treating him like he would like to be treated in his past. He listens to him, allows him to rant about the grudge he holds against the Emperor and simply gives him the much needed understanding.

They have a few similarities in their pasts too, they both were raised by some freaks and that traumatized them. They could discuss and treat each other`s daddy issues. It`s like mutual masturbation but it starts with their minds.

Speaking of mind, Aurelian is a psyker and Mortarion is allergic to it. But with time he could see that there`s no monster behind those powers, and although he`d still prefer Lorgar without them, he can tolerate it.

I hope one day they will team up, kick their first captains` asses and have their happy ever after.

[loves1ckgirl]

Denki Kaminari with an online best friend

Denki x American! reader

Online friends + maybe romantic-ish

Note, I have no idea how to write in the grammar of someone learning English so I’m just avoiding contractions and using a bit of chat gtp to make the sentence to be a little more incorrect lol.

He initially met you while playing a FPS at 3am

The game between you and both was mostly silent aside from some English and Japanese cursing, Denki understood some what you said

You however; did not understand him, but assumed he was expressing the same frustration and wasn’t just getting upset at you

After your first game was played, he had sent you a few emojis and a little english

The game you had been playing along side some random from Japan had gone surprisingly well. It was such a bad game for the loser you wondered if it was because they were absolute garbage or all of a sudden you became a gaming god. As you leaned back in your chair and attempted to fix the knot that formed in your back from hunching, you looked back at your computer screen. There you see a friend and message request.

Kaminarieki

“You are good at playing. Can we play more?”

As you read the message, you decide to respond and pray he wasn’t some 30 year old incel. After all, you were bored, and a bit lonely.

After that first interaction, you would go on to play with him often

However, neither of you talked very often especially after you came to the conclusion you didn’t speak the same language

In the end, there were still some short convos

Kaminari liked these, as he thought you were cool

The fact that UA English classes were more rigorous helped him in talking to you (a hero needed to communicate with a large variety of people)

A couple of months in, he was struggling with his classes exponentially, and no amount of help by his friends would help him,

He then thought it was a good idea to message you and explain that he thought it would be nice to talk and learn through a fluent speaker instead

Kaminarieki

“Can we talk a lot I am learning English I think your cool.”

“I’m down. It’s late now though. I have school is tomorrow okay? Also, the your should be you’re”

Kaminari sends a cute little heart emoji,

“Yes. Thank you.”

For awhile, you’d avoid many abbreviations and some complex Slang

Eventually Kaminari had gotten more advanced and you spoke more casually

After exchanging Instagram and other accounts, instead of mostly talking as you guys played, it started during school and random times of day

The time difference didn’t mean much since the both of you had terrible sleep schedules

(Although, he was a bit more regular due to his hero school)

As you talked to him you obviously found more of his personality and it had become more endearing tbh

He’d most definitely google English pick up lines

Eventually as his friends noticed his behavior and how if he’d planned to play with you he’d decline

Also how he’d be texting more than before (mostly on his Sundays and Monday’s as you’d be awake the longest when he was.)

Lowkey hates the time difference tbh.

Anyway, as his friends noticed him typing away on those two days in particular they’d begun to ask questions about who he was texting

“My friend.” He’d say, looking up from the phone for a second before continuing the text. Mina had begun even more curious than previously.

“Whaaa? Friend? Who?” She asks, leaning over the couch and Kaminari’s shoulder. She sees joke flirty messages that he sends and receives.

He ended up telling them about you and explains that’s why his English grade was getting better

Anywayyy he’s overall super cute with you

Basically just being himself

If you ever wanted to learn Japanese he’d 100% do his best to help you enthusiastically

He tries his best to keep you updated since it’s its hard to talk to you regularly

[fabled-lady-twilla]

Which of the following ShigaDeku fic ideas sound the most interesting to you?

I have a handful of ShigaDeku fics I've been consistently working on over the past couple of months. I keep switching back and forth and writing out small scenes for each story in order to get a sense of the direction I want to take them in. They're all different flavors of dark romance and hurt/comfort and have great potential. I just can't decide which one I want to write first. Help meeeeeee! 😭😭😭

I need your opinions, ShigaDeku fans! Could you tell me which one of the following story ideas sounds the most interesting or even rate them out of four like 1/4, 2/4, etc. based on your interest? 🥺👉👈

Canon Divergence Soulmate AU

Dark romance, action, hurt/comfort, and psychological drama.

Long-lost childhood friends to mortal enemies to soulmates.

Heroes vs. villains dilemma (fixing systemic issues in hero society together with Hawks + Aizawa + the League of Villains).

Izu and Shiga discovering they're not only childhood friends but also soulmates whose souls are tied to each other for eternity.

Set in canon universe and loosely follows the MHA storyline EXCEPT it actually has a genuinely hopeful ending, gives the League a redemption arc, and achieves lasting changes for society!

Yakuza Stepbrother AU

Dark romance, suspense, hurt/comfort, and crime drama.

Izu and Shiga are stepbrothers through Inko's secret marriage to All For One fifteen years prior to the beginning of the story.

Shigaraki inheritance dilemma (Izu signs away his rights to the fortune away because Inko (on her deathbed) told him to do so in order to protect him from getting involved with mafia drama. Too bad she didn't consider Shiga becoming obsessed with Izu upon meeting him and dragging him into the mafia world anyway). 😅

Yakuza territory war dilemma (because Izu is technically Shiga's stepbrother by marriage, he's threatened strongly encouraged to stay with the Shigaraki family until its safe for him to move out.

Tartarus Rehabilitation AU

Dark romance, thriller, hurt/comfort, and psychological drama.

Izu is a therapist-in-training who believes in rehabilitation for criminals. Shiga is a serial killer incarcerated in Tartarus for going on killing sprees targeting people who are cruel to animals.

Due to one of Izu's co-workers being sick, he's called in to cover for an interview with none other than Shiga himself. By the end of the interview, Shiga becomes infatuated with Izu and refuses to speak to anyone else or release important details about his murders unless Izu is the one questioning him.

Shiga's obsession eventually becomes worse and worse until he breaks out of Tartarus with the help of All For One (because of course he does) and Izu is like, well shit, time to go into hiding!

Paranormal Fantasy AU

Dark romance, paranormal fantasy, hurt/comfort, and horror.

Izu is a mystic who specializes in healing medicine for immortal beings like vampires, lycans, shapeshifters, mages, certain kinds of demons, undead, cursed beings, and of course, all of the supernatural hunters who get hurt keeping these beings in line.

Shiga is a hybrid of unknown origin (haven't decided if he's going to be a half-demon or half-vampire yet) who gets grievously injured one day defending his territory from an opposing coven leader.

Dabi drags Shiga to Izu's remote cottage and demands that the mystics heal his coven leader or he'll slaughter him right then and there. Izu, never being able to deny someone in need of healing, decides that he'll heal Shiga as long as his coven provides protection while he stays in their territory, and Dabi agrees.

Over the course of a week, Shiga stays in Izu's cottage with him as Izu slowly uses his magic to heal Shiga's wounds. Shiga spends the entire time obsessively taking in every detail of Izu's life, trying to figure out why he's on the run and how Shiga can make Izu join his coven and make him stay with Shiga forever.

Pretty please let me know which one of these story ideas you liked the most! My ADHD brain is really struggling with which one to go for, so I would really appreciate your opinion on these. 💚💚💚

[a-libra-writes]

I saw your Lackadaisy headcanons and I couldn't be happier cause this fandom needs more love. Can you do one for Mordecai with a female reader who's love language is acts of services and physical touch. Like, she has almost no sense of personal space (she really doesn't mean to make him uncomfortable) and if absolutely FLUSTERS poor Mordecai especially when he becomes aware of his feelings after a SLOW burn built up. Thank you so much for the awesome work and keep it up ❤️

Ayo so I actually got like 2 other messages about a Pt.2 to the first Mordecai headcanons, so Im adding this onto that! Again for some reason this murdercat got away from me so its a long boy. I attempted to keep it organized ,, , ,

First order of business, Mitzi ships it.

Back when Atlas bought her that nifty camera, she didn't just take embarrassing photos of Mordecai. She got some pretty cute candid shots of you around the bar, and a kinda-blurry-but-not-too-bad photo of you and Mordecai outside the big cafe window, talking to each other and not aware you were being photographed. It's pretty artsy, if she says so herself. She tucks the photos in Mordecai's desk and directly hands you the silly ones she took of him.

Actually, she clocked your feelings early on, but figured he wasn't interested. Didn't seem like the kind of guy, which is a shame. You're a sweetie. She hadn't seen you both act any different for a long time, so maybe that crush fizzled out? But if you ever bring it up with Mitzi, she's your #1 support. She's gonna set you up nice and give you all sorts of tips that just ... fall flat. Jeez, she knew Mordecai was unapproachable, but is it really going to take this long ...?

Viktor also figured your feelings out (albeit later), but that ain't his business. You had odd taste, though. He thinks it's pretty funny when other people flirt with you and Mordecai's suddenly in a foul mood and doesn't understand why. At least you two aren't hanky panky or anything, eugh, and you keep your heads during firefights. Anytime Viktor tries to bring up the topic (which, granted, is like a grand total of three times), he's so round about and non-direct that you have no idea what he's getting at. Oh well.

(If the idea of you two being a couple is brought up with anyone else, they can scarcely believe it. You? With him? Good luck. Only Atlas seems to see it, though his employee's love lives aren't relevant unless it gets in the way of business.)

Actually, if you're a more exuberant and affectionate type, that just makes people question your taste in him even more. The first few interactions didn't go great - you touched him without thinking, like you do most people, and he flinched so hard it's like you hurt him. Second time he hissed. Right, you got the picture. You became more mindful and considerate of his personal space, that plus an apology goes a long way.

Once you both are more familiar and have more trust, you can put a hand on Mordecai's shoulder or back without him reacting much. You can even squeeze his shoulder if you're trying to be reassuring, or silently warning him. Sometimes you just say "Hey, I'm gonna touch you," and you fix his coat or check a bruise. He lets you get away with more than others because you ask first.

(Sometimes he feels bad for it - you'll rush to hug your friends and you're so happy in their embrace, then you bound over to him and clearly restrain yourself as you touch his arm.)

Eventually you ask for hugs - quick ones! Special occassions only! But sometimes you're obviously distressed so he just. Lets it happen, briefly. If this is before admitting any feelings to each other or even himself, it's brief. If this is many years into this weird sort-of-understanding-relationship thing you both have, he'll quietly hold you while you get your emotions out. It's the least he can do, it really is. Mordecai already feels like he isn't deserving of whatever this is, and moreso if you're clearly someone who needs and wants physical attention and comfort.

But he does try, in his way. He'll reach over and take your hand. He gets used to sitting shoulder to shoulder, your tails brushing each other, or letting you lean on him when you're both exhausted. He actually likes it quite a bit when you slightly lean as you read and he does paperwork. It's nice to have that solid warmth, and comfortable quiet.

Mordecai lives in the main building above the cafe, long after he could afford an apartment. More economical and practical, he reasons. If Atlas needs something, he's right there. When you begin inviting him to dinner at your place, very slowly, he starts lingering afterward. Mordecai tries to make it like it's because it's easier to do numbers there - better lighting, your place is quieter, and so on. Nevermind the warm dinner and the nice fire in the fireplace and some low music on the radio and you reading something while his pencil scratches the paper. It ... really brings up some old thoughts and memories.

You've gotten bits and pieces of his family history during these times, usually after you've shared some of his own first. Clearly he doesn't like talking about it. You don't push it. You just listen to what he volunteers, and thank him for listening to you in kind.

Note, he always goes home, no matter how late it is. You feel like it's one of those lines that'll be tough to cross. Hell, just inviting him over was tough at first. He walked into your living space just fine in the day, when he was waiting to pick you up for a job. There'd be some comments on the dust or some examining of your plants, but nothing odd. When he comes by for dinner, he's initially tense until he settles in, and eventually he's quite at ease. Over the years he brought several plants in because he always heard you're supposed to bring flowers for the host, but flowers die quickly, and besides this variety of ivy is different because --

(You end up with a tidy windowsill of houseplants, and start having to put some on your counters. Mordecai gets flustered and suggests maybe you should get rid of some, and you reply you absolutely won't. When he waits for you to get ready, he checks their water and pulls some dead leaves. Might as well, right?)

As expected, kissing and intimate touches will be slow-going. You start simple: a quick good-bye kiss on the cheek when he leaves your apartment in the evening. The first time, Mordecai's hairs stand on end and his tail poofs up but! He assures you it was fine. He's fine. When the bar's empty and he's heading out, you give a quick 'good luck' kiss before hurrying off. You initiate all of them until one day when you'te both walking to the car, covered in (someone else's) blood and debating something silly, and once there's a lull in the conversation he just. Leans over and kisses you. It's only lasts a few seconds, then he just pulls away, fixes his glasses and trips walks to the car.

You're a bit dazed the rest of the drive and he's just a mess of nerves.

After that you can give him kisses now and again, but he gets flustered easily and it’s definitely a private matter. It's only around Viktor that you can touch and fuss over Mordecai, but that only leads to the old man snorting and the two of them starting to argue. Viktor's pretty damn surprised you're both that close, though. How long has it been that way?

Oh, and then there's drunk Mordecai. Oh boy.

This has only happened like, two times, because he does not drink. Period, the end, close curtain. He knows how he gets and he hates it. It doesn't take much of whatever questionable piss whiskey to get him swaying and seeing double. He'll flop on your shoulder and ramble about you're so wonderful and he's really not sure why you like him, also could you stop moving the room, oh and he's killed a man for you, but nevermind that you're such a darling person --

He's so sloshed. The novelty starts to wear off when he's falling over and you're having to get him home because apparently Viktor did it last time. At least Mordecai's a bean pole. If he's drunk in your apartment, thank god, you can just pull him over to your room so he can sleep it off. He's still going on about who-knows-what while you take off his shoes and coat. What's this about murdering who for you? Whatever, he's probably confused. Probably.

(You sleep on the couch and at 7am sharp you're awakened by a loud THUNK and panicked shouting as he still-drunkedly tries to orient himself and figure out where the hell he is. Hes so humiliated by everything he just avoids you for several days.)

Oh, last thing.

Mordecai will kill someone for you. Period. No questions asked. Viktor would too, yes, but after explaining and questioning and he'd go with you and hide the body. Mordecai just does it. Abusive partner, debt collector, a rival gang member tailing you, whoever - they're done for. He doesn't bring it up until you ask questions.

[inklessletter]

All I can say is it was enchanting (to meet you)

Read it on AO3

Eddie was exhausted from spending years touring, stage after stage, studio after studio. He wasn’t planning on abandoning his career just yet, but after eight years on the road, he needed to rest for a while. So, a couple of months ago, he moved into that tiny, residential neighborhood, with white picket fence houses, wide green lawns, families, and golden retrievers. That’s why he bought this three storey house that needed some hours and dollars to fix it up, and a backyard that used to be a beautiful garden at some point.

He wanted to fix it himself. He wanted to plant flowers, paint the walls, and turn off the goddamn phone for weeks.

Eddie was thinking about maybe getting a dog or something. Or a turtle.

Or his neighbor from the house across the street.

Eddie would be a dirty liar if he said that the first time he saw him playing with his twins in his front yard, he didn’t forget about his own name for a moment.

Two four year old girls, one of them with hair and soul made of fire, and the other one quieter, with a big, gentle smile and a head full of auburn curls. 

Two lovely tiny munchkins having a tea party with his father, sitting at the cutest teeny-tiniest Frozen themed plastic set of table and chairs Eddie had ever seen. The dad was pouring imaginary tea into their plastic cups, the curly haired one graciously gesturing with her hands while she sing-sang how much fun she was having and how delicious the tea was. 

He saw the red-haired girl pulling an annoyed face, rolling her eyes, and telling them she wanted to go skating already, that this was dumb (and Eddie loved her instantly), also gesturing. 

It was only when the dad gestured back to the red haired girl, and she huffed when Eddie realized that they were talking in sign language.

When the dad spotted Eddie, standing in his front yard, fully staring, Eddie’s face became so red so fast, that even from many feet away, he was sure that the whole family could notice. 

The dad smiled and waved. 

The kids turned to look at him. The curly haired one stood and made a deep bow, that Eddie returned.

The red haired one flipped him the bird, with a wicked smile.

Eddie faked being hurt by that and threw himself back in his garden, behind a bush.

Even from there he could hear the honest, high pitched, uncontrollable laughter of the kid.

They didn’t really interact much directly after that.

They spotted each other and waved every time, sharing smiles. Eddie didn’t want to get his hopes high because there was an ash blonde girl that was constantly coming in and out of the house, but he soon relaxed when he heard the kids (El and Max, short from Elena and Maxine, he got to learn eventually) referring to her as aunt Robin.

Robin also saluted him every time they crossed paths, and then turned quickly to the neighbor (Steve was the name) to gesture something. Always the same signs. Steve always granted her with an eyeroll and a blush.

And Eddie always hid a smile.

The smiles, the furtive looks, the rush of blood to the head anytime they run into each other became the greatest part of Eddie’s days. And even though Eddie had his fair share of action back on the road, and he was anything but timid, there was a shyness, borderline cowardice when it came to be bold enough to engage with Steve.

And then one day, it was clear that Steve was the boldest of the pair. He approached him, notepad in hand when he was fixing the garden.

“need any help?” Steve scribbled.

Eddie gifted him his brightest smile, and made space for Steve, who kneeled next to him, and started fixing the daisies. 

After an hour of stolen smiles and a thousand untold stories after every mole of Steve’s skin that Eddie needed to put in his next song, Eddie saw El and Max standing in the pavement, looking curiously at them. He patted Steve, who turned and gestured to them to get closer. The kids approached to say hi and kiss his dad, and it was Steve’s cue to leave to make dinner.

Eddie gave them both a daisy. El’s eyes were brighter than the sun. Max’ cheeks were brighter than her hair.

And Steve’s look was the fondest, earnest, sweetest Eddie had ever seen.

And after the daisies, the kids invited him to their birthday party the following Saturday.

Eddie got Max a tiny skateboard, and a plushie snowman for El.

He finally met Robin, who was the funniest woman he’d ever met, mainly because she wasn’t trying to be funny at all. Her witty comebacks, and the way he had teasing the kids, who absolutely adored her, was quite a show to see.

And Eddie didn’t know them enough to be engaging too much. Without being asked, Eddie helped Steve as much as he could, entertaining kids when needed, taking away wrapping paper scraps, or even keeping the kitchen free of sugar rushed mini humans. 

So much to do, yet both of them spent all afternoon stealing glances and smiles from each other. At some point, he saw Robin signing fast to Steve, hidden in the kitchen, and poor guy, his cheeks were flushing red.

After the cake, kids started to go, until only Robin and him were at Steve’s. Eddie wanted to help with the cleaning, but Max and El took him to a thousand family pictures infested living room to play with him. El was gentle and quiet, Max was more demanding. They were trying to teach Eddie some words in sign language, and he gave them his full attention, until eventually El fell asleep on the couch, and Max on Eddie’s lap.

Steve entered the room, and gestured Eddie to take Max upstairs, while he held El, who instantly wrapped her arms around his dad’s neck.

They left the kids on their beds (that bedroom needed some tidying up, Eddie had never seen so many toys).

When they went down to the kitchen, Robin had already left. Steve scribbled on the notepad on the counter.

“stay for dinner? leftovers it is”

Eddie huffed a laugh and nodded. They ended up eating sandwiches (and chocolate cake with a picture on top of a half eaten Elsa face) in the kitchen.

Eddie took the pen.

“ELSA’S LEFT EYE IS DELICIOUS”

Steve almost spat what was eating.

“shit i just got her braid”

“MAX IS GONNA BE SO MAD AT YOU”

“max is always mad at me”

“MAD MAX” he scribbled, and proceeded to draw a poorly braided kid skateboarding with spikes in her helmet.

At first it was accidental, but then their hands started touching, lingering, when they were passing the pen. Steve dared to give a soft, brief caress with the back of his finger.

When they intertwined their hands, pen and notepad forgotten, Eddie lifted his gaze and locked it with Steve, and all the air was sucked out of the room.

Steve cupped Eddie’s cheek, softly, a question in his pupils and his half open mouth, that Eddie wordlessly replied with a soft nod and a hand on his waist. Steve kissed him and it was the sweetest thing Eddie had ever experienced.

After that first kiss came another. And another. And another one. It was only when Eddie was between Steve’s lips and the kitchen door that Steve seemed to think twice about what was happening there. He broke the kiss with a troubled expression. He closed his eyes, sighing, and pointed at the draw of Max. 

Eddie needed no notepad, no signs, no words to understand that it was time to leave. He smiled at Steve, cupping his cheek with both hands, and resting his forehead against Steve’s.

“We can figure this out,” Eddie whispered. Steve, who was looking at Eddie’s lips while he spoke, looked at Eddie’s eyes, and smiled. Nodding.

Steve walked Eddie to the door.

He was about to leave, when he turned to Steve, and slowly, he signed “thank you, daddy.”

Steve opened his eyes, holding back a smile. Grabbed quickly the notepad, and wrote really fast.

“you must’ve picked up the ‘daddy’ sign because that’s how my kids call me. I’ll show you Steve.”

Steve left the notepad aside and started gesturing, but froze when he saw Eddie gesturing fluently at him.

“I know how to say Steve. Look, I am a musician. Heavy metal and rock. I’ve been on the road for years. I took a break because I’m losing my hearing, too. I learnt sign language a couple of years ago.”

Steve gestured back almost furiously.

“Why didn’t you say anything before? Wait, so you know what Robin and I were talking about all the time?”

Eddie laughed. “I’m glad you think I’m cute.”

They were both blushing, and biting shy smiles.

“I’m gonna go.”

“Bye, rock star.”

“Bye, daddy.”