#but i mean damn…you can’t look at me like THAT

[bakuhatsufallinlove]

424

All right, listen. It’s pretty damn funny that two weeks ago I posted all like, “oh I don’t really comment chapter-by-chapter, I’m waiting to see what happens next,” but this one broke me.

This chapter was everything I wanted for bkdk, and it’s so much more tender than I ever dreamed it could be.

This post is not going to be like most of my posts, because I am a flood of emotion. If you’re wanting some detailed, well-researched analysis of this scene, that ain’t coming for a while.

I don’t have some kind of comparative linguistics to show you. I just have my visceral reactions as someone who speaks Japanese and has absorbed Japanese media for many years. I have shared my heart with others in Japanese, I’ve sputtered out words between sobs and felt the many kinds of comfort different people try to offer. I have comforted others who let themselves be vulnerable with me.

In all these moments, just as in English, I wondered if my words and feelings reached them. Each time, I felt the warmth of connection when they looked at me, and I decided that they knew I did my best. They accepted me, even if it wasn’t perfect.

I’m gonna tell you the truth, and I wouldn’t normally say this so directly, but it matters to me: the fan translation for this specific scene is not good. The tone is wildly off in some ways and it outright omits a number of very important words.

The official translation gets so much of it right.

But that’s not really what I want to talk about right now. I want to talk about how people are reading this scene.

I have seen a ton of, frankly, oblivious interpretations of Izuku’s side of things.

Listen to me. Izuku is not making fun of Katsuki for crying, he is not telling Katsuki that crying isn’t like him, that isn’t in the text at all. He is not rejecting Katsuki’s feelings, or belittling them, or ignoring them, or any of that.

Izuku has seen Katsuki cry in-canon a number of times, but every time it was over his own personal failures, and the frustration, anger, guilt, and grief associated with them. We see it in the aftermath of Deku vs. Kacchan 1. We see it during Deku vs. Kacchan 2.

Izuku is shocked to see Kacchan cry because this is the first time he has cried for Izuku.

When Katsuki apologized in 322, he looked Izuku in the eye and told him his feelings with conviction and poise. He was gentle and vulnerable, but strong, because he was asking Izuku to trust them and rely on them. To come back with them and believe in them, like they believe in Izuku. He bowed his head to show his remorse. He caught Izuku when he fell, and he accepted Izuku’s own apology.

He embodied dignity, sincerity, and strength of character. He was a true hero.

This?

This is the raw, honest sorrow of a young boy. It is a tender, earnest, unguarded display of how much Izuku means to him.

These are the tears you shed for someone you cherish. These are tears for when you think you are losing something you can’t live without. Because Katsuki isn’t just crying for the loss of Izuku’s dream—it’s their dream, the future they dreamt up together as kids.

Izuku is almost pathologically incapable of understanding how other people see him and feel about him, but this is unmistakable. He is stunned because there is no other explanation.

There is unmitigated heartache and longing at the core of Katsuki saying, “I just thought somehow we would be together like this, competing and chasing after each other, forever.”

And Izuku is reeling, but so, so touched, and filled with fondness. Look at how his shock shifts to this overwhelmed, affectionate smile.

He’s right—this isn’t the usual Katsuki, and that is precisely why it means so much. We as the audience have been privy to Katsuki’s feelings, but until now Izuku himself has never really grasped the depth of them. This is all the tenderness Katsuki has kept locked up inside, and he is letting Izuku see it for the first time.

To see Kacchan—strong, fierce, and absolutely unstoppable—shed these innocent, helpless tears for him and tell him through sobs that he wanted things to stay this way forever, I can’t blame him for being blown away.

I think Izuku expected Katsuki to be shocked and a little sad that he gave up OFA, both for Izuku’s sake and because it is the legacy of their hero. Before Katsuki even starts crying, Izuku has this small smile on his face, like he was ready to reassure him that he had made peace with his own choice.

But he clearly didn’t expect for Katsuki to weep openly in front of him about it or to confess to wanting him by his side. Izuku had so enjoyed just being allowed near Katsuki, allowed in his life at all—to think that Katsuki could want the same and want it this much, to the point that he worries that things would change, that Izuku would abandon him or deny him? How could that ever be?

In what world could Izuku ever stop chasing Kacchan?

Izuku is a bit of an idiot. He has always thought that Katsuki understood how much he cared for and admired him—that’s why he is so shocked during DvK2 to hear that Katsuki thought he looked down on him for years. Izuku thought Katsuki understood his feelings and simply rejected them.

The way he loves Kacchan is natural and unquestionable. Even now, he can’t understand how Katsuki doesn’t know. It’s baffling to him.

But he still accepts Katsuki’s vulnerability and responds to the intimacy.

This is such an affectionate, loving thing to say. Izuku is being so sweet. I cannot convey to you strongly enough how Izuku telling Katsuki, “C’mon, stop it, this isn’t like you!” reaffirms their closeness.

If Izuku had not said this line and instead skipped straight to this nervous, awkward little attempt at comfort here:

It would have read as so much more distant.

With his tears and his confession, Katsuki pleads with Izuku to not leave him. To be with him always.

And in response, Izuku unabashedly stakes his claim on their bond by being bold enough to affectionately scold him and even assert authority on what kind of person Katsuki is. Remember these?

Chapters 202 and 319

This is such a staple in Japanese media for showing close bonds. Your loved ones know you. They tease you. They scold you. They have that right. You gave it to them.

The people you love cheer you up by reminding you that you’re strong and brave and that even if things feel hopeless and like you can’t go on, that they know you can. Everything will be okay, and they know so because they’ll be right there with you. Of course they’ll be there.

Symbolically, throughout the series, Izuku’s response to Katsuki trying to be closer to him has always been: “Of course.”

He has always accepted Katsuki as much as he is able to, as much as he had awareness for. He is wildly lacking in self-awareness, so it’s certainly not perfect, but by god does he try.

What Izuku is really saying is a mixture of “Really? You want that, too?” and “Don’t be silly!”

One part is him being shocked and touched; the other is him being absolutely certain of his own heart, and showing it as best he can.

He does get flustered and self-conscious, though—because it’s overwhelming to see Kacchan this way, and this is kind of new territory for them. So he switches tactics to reassure Kacchan about how things are now, and make sure he doesn’t feel embarrassed about this outburst. He still has the embers, so it’s okay for now. And their bodies are weak, so of course their heads will be in a bad place too, it’s easy to get low spirits. Of course Katsuki would be feeling vulnerable. It’s normal.

He gives Katsuki so many things here. He gives him as much as he can.

Izuku doesn’t know how long he’ll have the embers for and, frankly, he doesn’t have any guarantee that he will be able to satisfy this longing of Katsuki’s after he loses them. This, too, is a staple of promises in Japanese media: “I don’t know if I can satisfy you, but I want to try. I hope you can accept me.”

Things will be different—the future is always uncertain, now more than ever for their world. But what will never change is what they feel in their hearts.

After this scene, I honestly don’t care if we get something other people see as “bkdk canon.”

What Katsuki says is as good as a confession to me. What Izuku says in return is genuine and pure. This is a messy pair of teenage boys figuring out how to reach each other with words, when they have always been so damn bad at it. This is the two of them both reaching a new point of intimacy and reaffirming everything that came before.

[togament]

umemiya is such a sweet big brother type of character i feel he's a BIG family man so imagine the sort of thoughts that would be thunk when he sees his s/o taking care of the younger furin members/children in general.. 👉👈 could be both nsfw and sfw too hehe

eeeee an ume ask! tysm anon. of course, i live to provide for the ume girlies too. him being a huge family guy is making me sweat a lil. hoooooo- 🥹

thinking about being fresh into a relationship with ume and him… realizing some things way too soon.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : breeding breeding BREEDING. breeder ballz ume. imagined sexual scenarios. general seggs.

NSFW under the cut. +18 stuff. MDNI, pookie. sowwie. you know the drill.

just like most nights, you and the Furin boys congregate to the Pothos Café.

also just like most nights, you find yourself standing over the first years’ table, playfully nagging at sakura for getting scratched up after you just patched him up good yesterday.

ume, being the absolute best boyfriend that he is, he doesn’t look on in jealousy. hell. he’s smiling so stupidly that hiragi spares him a glance and grins at him.

“take a picture it lasts longer,” hiragi teases, taking a sip from his black coffee, nudging ume out of his love induced stupor.

“can you blame me though? I mean, look at them,” he sighs wistfully, motioning to your table. hiragi follows his gaze.

you’re still there, fighting and giggling with a now red sakura, desperately trying to reach him to clean his wounds. it’s absolute chaos but seeing you getting along with the furin members and doting on them like your own siblings is only making ume fall for you even harder.

how his heart swoons at the thought of having you be a permanent fixture to his found family. how he wants to get married to you one day, to take care of a family of your own. “she’d be such a good mother to my kids,” he thinks. but before he realizes he was thinking out loud, he slowly turns to a smirking hiragi. “hm? say whatnow?” hiragi prods.

Pause.

‘she’d be such a good mother to my kids,’ he finally manages to think silently. he rotates that thought around in his mind like a puzzle, panicking inwardly. isn’t it a bit too soon to think of those things? right? I mean, you just got into a relationship with him after being friends for years — can’t be, right? to save face, he only chuckles, waving hiragi off with a limp hand.

“it’s a grown up thought. you wouldn’t get it.” he teases. but damn. just looking at you from across the café right now’s stirring a different type of feeling within him.

he finds you again in his thoughts that night in his room, your tight cunt is in the form of his fist. your name falling from his lips as he pumps on his length. his eyebrows are knit together so tightly, his eyes closed, imagining you laid out on his bed, pussy dripping with his cum. if he can’t have you the way he wants right now, he’ll just have to put his mind to work.

he hooks one of your legs over his shoulder as he slides in for the nth time that night in his thoughts, the wet squelch ever audible. he’s reaching you deeper in this position now, eager to shoot more of his load as close to your womb as possible — overload it, even. it spills, drips down onto his bedsheets but he doesn’t care.

“y-you’re gonna be such a great mother,” you hear him groan. you’re way too fucked out to respond while his eyes are raking down your naked form, breasts bouncing with every harsh thrust. sweaty and panting, you reach down to rub at your clit and he bites back a moan at the added sensation. you’re tightening up around him. his fat breeder balls slap against your ass. it’s fucking amazing how endless his stamina is. you can only let out a weak whimper in response.

some days, he makes love to you so gently in his mind, taking his sweet time to bring you the pleasure you so deserve. pressing gentle kisses along your legs, your belly, your chest.

but lately, he’s been wanting to fold you over and fuck you senselessly, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. it’s downright nasty, rough—but can you blame him?

he needs to fucking breed you.

“gonna fill you up, baby. gonna put a baby in ya-“ he reaches down to cup your cheek in his hand. you instinctively lean into his touch and he swears his heart skips a beat. “y’want that? all plump with our kid inside of you. gonna look even more beautiful-“ he chuckles, ramming harder into you. his grip tightens around your leg, a pattern of crescents litter your soft flesh as he keeps a steady grip using it as leverage to fuck deeper.

you feel a tight coil in your belly, wanting to cum again on his thick, thick breeder cock. your fingers fly to the sheets below you, gripping so desperately with your head buried into the pillow beside you. moans and screams muffled by the saliva-soaked material.

“that’s right, sweetheart. cum. cum with me. f-fuuugh-!” a groan leaves your boyfriend’s lips as he feverishly rubs at your clit, bringing you to cum with him. a mixture of his juices and yours dribble down his balls and down your thighs, soaking the mattress further.

-

his toes curl and his back arches away from his bed as he pumps his cock desperately, your name escaping his lips unbidden in pants and whimpers. his cum squirts far, even reaching his cheek and his pillow.

“fuuuuck,” he whispers to himself, sitting up from his bed to wipe himself up, already dreading the clean up process.

but his doorknob turns with a gentle knock on his door.

you catch him looking like a deer in headlights, cock still in hand and cum smearing his uniform and cheek.

smirking, you step inside his room slowly, eyeing him down with a blush creeping up your neck.

“I’d be a ‘great mother’, huh?��

the door closes with a click behind you.

shit.

౨ৎ ˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

a/n: 😮‍💨 gotta love me some desperate ume.

[lurochar]

Racy Reverie

In response to this ask

18+ MDNI

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“Finally, you don't know how much I need this!”

You smiled at Angel Dust, who collapsed on the opposite side of the couch from you. “I don't mind talking about your job if you need to, Angel.”

“You sure ‘bout that, Toots?” Angel Dust snickered at you, but then sighed almost wearily. “Not sure why you're the only one willing ta listen to me after a hard day, ya know? I mean, everyone in this hotel is a secret freak, right?”

You blinked.

“Little Miss Sunshine and Vagina – you've heard them go at it when they forget to put up their soundproof barrier, huh? Like damn, wonder who's using the strap there?”

That was true, they were quite loud when they failed to remember that important little detail.

“And c’mon, ya think that pussycat wasn't drowning in pussy himself back when he was an Overlord? Or maybe he likes cock better? I can’t tell with that guy. He’s got a good poker face, I can tell you that much.”

Honestly, you had no idea either which gender Husk preferred – he would probably choose a bottle of booze rather than a warm body if you had to guess.

“And Snakes? He has two dicks. Nuff said about that. And he calls me the whorebug?” Angel Dust scoffed. “And Niffty? Uhh, yeah, let’s… let’s just not get into her little mind of horrors.”

Well said.

“And so,” Angel Dust glanced up, a frisky smile suddenly gracing his face, “that just leaves you and Smiles. Spill, Toots. No need to be shy ‘round me. Don’t hold anything back. Everyone here knows you’re both a ‘thing’. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Creepy is into some fucking weird shit, isn’t he?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “Alastor… isn’t–” You struggled to put it into exact words. “He doesn’t, well…” You scratched the side of your head in frustration.

“Ah, is he pulling the whole ‘proper gentleman’ bullshit? Doing the courting thing?” Angel Dust shrugged. “I remember you mentioning he died in the ‘30s or something? Does he really believe in the ‘no sex before marriage’ crap? Cuz let me tell ya, I died not that long after that, people weren’t as proper as you’d like to think they were back then.”

You glanced away. “Maybe… that’s a part of it.” You knew Alastor had little interest in the more intimate aspects of a relationship and he had admitted to you he had never done anything with anyone in either his mortal life and afterlife.

Of course you desired to touch him and for him to touch you beyond his own little affections – usually him placing his hand on the small of your back and perhaps a kiss on your forehead.

Alastor was not an affectionate man and you knew that going in and you respected that, but he had never outright told you it would never happen and so you could only hope it may happen one day.

“But this is about you! I said I would listen, you had a tough day, right?” You said quickly, earning a sympathetic look from Angel Dust, but he got the message to change the subject back to himself.

“Bleh, yeah, you got that right! Val’s into this thing called ‘bukkake’ right now, ever heard of that?” He earned a shake of your head. “It’s some Asian shit. It’s where multiple guys cum on you. So I’ve got like twenty Hellhounds cumming on my face – and fuck, dunno if you watch porn or not, but the loads some of those dogs are packing! Felt like I was fuckin’ drowning–”

Your face felt hot and Angel Dust’s voice felt distant as you unconsciously squeezed your thighs together. You weren’t a virgin, but you weren’t exactly swimming in experience either as you only had a few sexual encounters in life and none had involved… that.

What would it be like, Alastor cumming on your face?

Would you be on your knees in front of him? On a bed beneath him? Would he stroke himself to completion or would you use your mouth? Would he call you endearing pet names or be degrading towards you?

Oh fuck– 

“Hey, Toots! Still there?” Angel Dust broke you out of your fantasizing and you jumped, blinking and feeling your face burn with sheer embarrassment. “Shit, was that too much?”

“No, no!” You tried to wave it off like you weren’t affected. “I-it’s fine! You can continue!” You swallowed thickly.

“Nah, don’t worry ‘bout it. I think I got what I needed off my chest. Thanks for listening to me, Toots.” Angel Dust stood up from the couch. “Wanna get a drink with me?”

You could definitely use a drink right about now. “Yes. Yes, I would.” You got up, heading over to the bar with Angel Dust.

Neither of you noticed the shadow listening in.

[yizmiu]

i’m not sure if you do requests but i was wondering if i could request enhypen boyfriend sunghoon fic where sunghoon goes from not caring at all for cats to becoming the proudest cat dad you could ever imagine when his girlfriend brings home a cat out of no where.

ི꒰͡ ໋. kitty-incident!

𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎inwhich. sunghoon doesn’t understand his girlfriends love for cats but after she suddenly brought one home he’s kind of forced too…

𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎࣪genre. fluff, sunghoon x f!reader, dog person sunghoon, cat person reader

𓏸 ͘ ࣭⸰ ‎word count. 1k+

ᯇ ೀ jayjay’s note; hiii so sorry for the long wait, i was having trouble finding out on how i should write this! it’s a mix of smau and a drabble!

Sunghoon sighed, staring at the little kitten on the floor next to his feet. Y/n, his girlfriend had impulsively bought the kitten home from a shelter without even telling him she was doing so. It’s not like Sunghoon hated cats, he was just more of a dog person.

Now, he was just told he had to watch the kitten for a couple hours. “You’re cute, but I’m still mad at you for scratching our couches. I can’t believe your mom just showed up with you and didn’t tell me.” Sunghoon glared at the cat as he spoke.

The kitten, named Yureum (chosen by the both of them) could sense Sunghoon’s passive aggressive energy from the day he entered the house. Since then he’s been acting like a little asshole to him, tearing up the furniture, knocking down Sunghoon’s things, and walking over the keyboard while he was trying to work.

Sunghoon rarely pet his ‘child’ because Yureum always made sure to nip and scratch at him out of spite. So when he suddenly started purring and rubbing against Sunghoon’s leg he was surprised.

Sunghoon figured he needed more attention, and he started to feel bad so he shut his laptop, taking a break from his work to sit on the couch with Yureum following behind.

“C’mon” Sunghoon said as he picked the kitten up with both hands, placing him on his lap. “You’re so cute, if only you weren’t a little jerk to me.” Sunghoon sighed as he gently caressed him.

Sunghoon yawned as he placed Yureum next to his head as he laid down, getting sleepy. “I’m gonna take a little nap, your mom should be home in 15 minutes.” He said as his voice started to slur.

Yureum stared at the sleeping figure in front of him for a little, a little tired himself so he snuggled up against his owner. Fitting perfectly in the gap between his chest and arms.

Sunghoon heard flashes and clicks as he began to wake up from his sleep, opening his eyes to see his girlfriend taking photos of him. “What are you doing?” He said groggily. “Look! You and Yureum.” Y/n shoved the phone in her boyfriend's face.

“Y/n—Achoo!” Sunghoon cut himself off with a sneeze. “Are you okay, baby? You’ve been sneezing a lot.” Y/n asks in concern as she hands her boyfriend a tissue.

“What if I've developed an allergy to cats? Yureum has been clingy to me recently, what if the little shit got me sick.” Sunghoon suggested. “I know you don’t like him much but what kind of excuse is that? I mean it could be possible though…” Y/n lost the train of thought thinking about the possibility. “He just loves you a lot, he cuddles with you a night more than me.” She pouted as she crossed her arms against her chest.

“I kind of wish he didn’t…I just have been getting itchy around him a lot.”

“I can make an appointment for you later today, just take some of my allergy pills and you’ll be okay.” Y/n said as she walked over to the kitchen to fetch her allergy pills. She herself was allergic to cats but she didn’t mind.

Turns out, Sunghoon really was allergic to cats. He tried to keep his distance after learning so. He doesn’t know how Y/n deals with it.

But It was hard when the damn cat was always by Sunghoon’s side. When he was sleeping, when he was working, hell even when he was in the bathroom. He followed him everywhere.

“Yureum! Seriously, I’m just getting up to get water.” Sunghoon groaned as the cat purposefully stuck himself to his owner by digging his claws into Sunghoon’s knitted sweater. “Don’t follow me.” He said firmly, placing the cat down after detaching it from him.

Yureum sat and stared at his owner as he walked away, deciding to ignore his wishes and follow him anyway.

“Oh my god! Yureum, I almost stepped on you.” Hoon complained as he looked at the cat that was now by his feet. “You have food and water, I was just petting you, what more could you want?” Hoon asked the cat. He looked crazy right now, he’s talking to a cat.

Yureum’s head slightly turned to the right. Taking little steps to get to his ankles, purring against them softly.

Sunghoon sighed as he picked his cat up. “God, I’m surprised I’m not dead already.” He carried the cat to the shared bedroom between him and his girlfriend.

“Are we out of allergy pills?” Y/n asked, looking up from her laptop. She was currently working on a project for work and wanted some alone time.

“Almost. I’m tired and I can tell Yureum is too.” He set the cat down before he laid himself on the bed next to Y/n. “He keeps following me everywhere, I don’t know why. He’s your cat. I’m more like his babysitter.” He sighed.

Y/n gasps. “He is our son…and it’s because he likes you, Hoon. More than me actually…it’s kind of surprising.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, “See.” She pointed out as the cat was currently cuddling up to Sunghoon and not her.

“Hoon! I know you’ve been tired a lot recently and you’ve been wanting a break from Yureum so I got someone else to watch him! You can go and hang with the guys tonight.” Y/n said as soon as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

Sunghoon spit out the toothpaste in his mouth into the sink. “Who is it?” He asked as he put his toothbrush away. Y/n unwrapped her arms, grabbing the hairbrush on the bathroom counter. “It’s one of my coworkers, he said he loves cats and he has a day off today so he agreed to watch him.” She gently brushed her hair as she looked at the man in the mirror.

“Yes, but who?” Sunghoon’s eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Doyoon.” Y/n said hesitantly.

Sunghoon’s eyes slightly lit up, he knew he was the said coworker. “Actually, the guys aren’t going out today. I can watch Yureum.” He said nonchalantly.

Even though Sunghoon could use his day off to hang with his friends he still decided to look after their cat every single saturday. Purely because he doesn’t want Kim Doyoon, who has a massive crush on his girl, to look after their cat. In bold their cat.

enhypen m.list — enhypen taglist (open) : @yenqa

[whismizxal]

show me off dr3

── in which daniel ricciardo loves showing off his greek girlfriend.

── warning: google translated greek, some spelling and grammar mistakes, relationships, kind of suggestive? anything else I missed please let me know xx

f1 drivers. navigation.

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danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 645,922,192 others

danielricciardo be jealous or should I say να ζηλεύεις γιατί είναι ΤΟ ΚΟΡΙΤΣΙ ΜΟΥ. (be jealous because she’s my girl)

tagged; yourusername

view 11,221 comments

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DANIEL AND Y/N WERE IN LOVE.

there was no doubt about it.

the way their eyes glow when the other is mentioned or walks into a room is something that is out of a disney film. the quick glances of adoration they give each other are constantly caught on camera proving their love for each other further more.

the way he looked at her when she was talking made it seem like she hung the moon and the stars, and there wasn’t a soul who could get daniel to tear his eyes away from the girl he loved calling a goddess.

“daniel, you listening?” she asked softly, looking at him a smile which told him she had caught him staring at her.

“can’t lie baby, I wasn’t.” he responded sheepishly but never taking his eyes off her. “you’re just so beautiful.” he muttered as he went closer to her and stroked her cheek.

“how’s the greek going?” she asked with a soft smile as she looked into his eyes with complete affection.

“I think it’s going quite well. wanna hear me speak?” he spoke excitedly, a huge grin on his face as he asked the question.

“of course I do.” she replied, her smile matching his.

“εισαι η αγαπη της ζωης μου.” he says with a accent, a proud smile on his face. (you are the love of my life)

y/n laughed softly as blush crept on her face at his words. she reached up to kiss his cheek. “κι εσύ είσαι δικός μου.” she spoke sweetly. (and you are mine.)

“wait what does that mean?” he asked a little panicked as he goes on his phone to search it up, forcing a laugh out of her.

“I love you so much.” she tells him, grabbing his face to look at her.

he dropped his phone and kissed her with a smile, lifting her off her feet as they laughed into the kiss. “I love you too.” he says against her lips.

“I know, you love to show me off on instagram.” she giggled, running her fingers through his hair.

“can you blame me?” he responded, picking her up as she wrapped her legs around his waist, moving his hands to be under her thighs to hold her. “you’re so fucking beautiful and I need to make sure everyone knows it.” he says, kissing her cheek as she blushed.

“thank you for leaning greek. you don’t understand how much i appreciate it.” she whispers to him, leaning her forehead against his as she runs her fingers through his hair.

“of course love, got make sure your family can understand my vows.” he smiles smugly as he walks towards the sofa still holding her in his arms as he sits down.

“been waiting three years for you to ask.” she joked as she rested her head on his shoulder.

“don’t worry, I’ll ask soon. just don’t want you to be expecting it.” he said, kissing her head when he saw her cheeks turn red.

they both sat in a comfortable silence as daniel rested his head on y/n’s, stroking her thigh as he smiled at the thought of the engagement ring he bought two weeks ago that was hiding in one of his socks at the back of his drawer.

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danielricciardo

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danielricciardo some more future wife appreciation

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username looked at my bf and sighed cause why can’t he show me off like this

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yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, carlossainz55, and 282,627,911 others

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an; this is kinda of bad so I might end up re-writing this in the near future.

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[cherry4nemo]

LOVE AND DEEPSPACE OMGGGGGGG PLEASE LITERALLY ANYTHING FROM THAT IM BEGGING

uh.. I mean…

Pretty please write for Love and Deepspace, oh great fanfic writer.

Your wish is my command. I’m gonna make this one fluffy 😭

XAVIER AND RAFAYEL WHEN THEYRE JEALOUS

Warnings: slightly suggestive on Rafayels part but that’s about it!

XAVIER (inspired by this line)

It was about midnight when you finally arrived back to your house. It was stupid really, when you signed up for this job, you thought you’d be doing more fighting. but here you are having to do paperwork…

You grab the doorknob and open the door, only to see Xavier fast asleep on your couch.

Huh… “Xavier?” You leaned over him and poked his shoulder. What was he doing at your house?

After some poking and prodding, you finally see a pair of blue eyes looking back up at you.

“Hm? Oh [name] what took you so long?” Xavier rubbed the sleepiness from his eyes, but you thought you saw a hint of something else in his eyes too.

“Paperwork per usual.” You groaned in annoyance, sitting down next to him. He hummed in response before taking your hand into his gently.

“Do you still have time for our claw machine date tomorrow…?” He inquires in a whispering tone.

“Of course I do! We still need to add the new puppy plushie to our family.” That seems to bring a smile to his face as he kisses your hand.

“I’ll finally have your attention all to myself, huh?” He sounds awfully calm while he spoke, but you could tell there was a hint of jealousy.

“You always will Xav.” Your hand finds his shoulder as you give it a small squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“Hm…” he hums “A gesture like this… don’t do it with anyone else.”

RAFAYEL

Tangled in your sheets was Rafayel, holding onto your waist for dear life.. it was already seven in the morning and you swore you would get groceries early today. With a small grunt you attempt to pull yourself out of his hold, only to hear a whine.

“No.. why are you already trying to get up?” His voice is muffled by the pillow, but it was still loud and clear.

“I gotta go grocery shopping today, I already told you.” You huff still trying to get up, but that only made him hold you tighter.

“Oh wow. So first you decide to cuddle with that stupid bird plushie all night instead of me, and NOW you’re trying to leave me?”

… what is he talking about??

“I’m not leaving you! It’s only for like 30 minutes.” You try to argue but you know damn well he’s just being dramatic.

“30 minutes too long!” Rafayel pouts. “Why can’t you just stay a little longer?”

“What do I get out of that, huh?” You roll your eyes once you catch a smirk growing on his lips.

“I guess I’ll just have to show you…” his hand slides underneath your shirt, grabbing at the flesh of your stomach. “Just stay a little longer, okay?”

[puck-luck]

give him six | trevor zegras

warnings: extreme domination. EXTREME domination. daddy kink because i do what i want. edging. spanking. cockwarming. at the same time. don’t worry about it. i do what i want. HINTS of anal play but they don’t actually do it. derogatory language (name calling…). crying during sex. sorry! spit kink. had to be done. subspace! ugh need a man to put me in that BAD bad pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary/request: “thinking about trevor zegras needing to fuck his gf roughly after a tough game to let out his frustration bc i can sooooo see him being into that. but he’d always be looking out for u too, saying to tell him if it hurts and checking in to ask if she’s ok, but as soon as she assures him she is he’s just going absolutely nuts not holding back 🫠” wc: 4109

You don’t have to look at Trevor to see how angry he is. He lost a few weeks of hockey due to his broken ankle and now he was back– but he couldn’t make a fucking goal in a shootout to get the win for his team? The worst part was that his shot was denied not by the goalie, but by the post. By the fucking post. 

Trevor loves to flaunt his accuracy in the backyard, in the practice rink, even when tossing trash into the garbage bin, but the one time he doesn’t mean to hit the post, the puck does? It’s idiocracy. It’s humiliating. He’s better than this. He knows it, you know it, the whole world knows it. But St. Louis got to celebrate tonight, and maybe if he hadn’t hit the damn post, then he’d be celebrating with his teammates instead of stewing in your bed. 

His arms are crossed over his chest and the TV isn’t even on– you join him and want to laugh at the image of your pouty boyfriend wallowing in silence. You climb under the covers with Trevor. 

“You did really well, Trev,” you compliment, settling into the mattress.

“We should’ve won,” he replies.

You sigh. “You can’t win them all.”

Trevor scoffs. “Yeah, well, we could’ve won this one,” he snaps.

You stare at him for a moment while his tone really sets in. “You don’t have to talk to me like that,” you say, your voice growing cold. “I wasn’t out on the ice with you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He, at least, sounds the part. He covers his face with his hands, the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “I just– I’m so mad.”

You take a deep breath. You don’t have to be at work until 9 and it’s about five minutes away if you leave on time. You have to do the laundry tomorrow afternoon anyway. Trevor would feel better if you did this. You really wanted to sleep after the game tonight, but it would be a lie if you said you didn’t want to make him feel better. Another deep breath.

“Why don’t you take it out on me?” You ask.

Trevor looks over at you, surprise written all over his features. “Really?” He asks, like a child who was just told that he could have another candy before bed. “Like last time?”

Last time. You practically start salivating, thinking about how Trevor brought you to the edge and ripped you away from the cliff time after time, until you were sobbing and screaming and begging for a release. 

“Yeah, like last time,” you agree, already a little absent. Trevor notices, of course he does, he’s more in tune with your body than you are at this rate.

A smile tugs on the corner of Trevor’s lips, but he ignores it.

“Hands and knees,” Trevor says. “Right in front of me.”

You position yourself accordingly.

Trevor smooths a hand over your behind, your shirt riding up and exposing your skin due to the position you’re in. You hadn’t worn anything else to bed– why would you? You and Trevor had been together for ages and you weren’t exactly new to his… post-loss coping mechanisms. 

“Elbows,” Trevor corrects. His cock twitches when you immediately drop to your elbows, no hesitation in your movements. You’re silent, like he wants when you play like this, and you’ll do anything he says. You’re gorgeous like this, all spread out and listening to him with your head forward like a good girl, waiting for your next instruction.

You hear his voice over the thumping of your heart, although you’re not sure how. You’re always finding Trevor in the mess of everything. 

“Bite the sheets,” Trevor commands, shimmying out of his boxers. You can hear him moving and you take the bedsheets in your mouth, the fabric almost immediately saturating with your saliva. “Close your eyes.” You slide your eyes shut and wait, your shaky breath filling the room and heating your face.

Something warm probes at your entrance and for a moment, you can’t tell if it’s Trevor’s fingers or his cock. The answer comes to you via a sharp spank on your left cheek, with Trevor’s left hand. He always fingers you with his left hand so that he can keep his right around your neck– the hand that’s currently kneading your other cheek. 

He pushes his cock into you slowly, the movement more like he’s pulling you back than pushing you forward. 

“Six shots,” Trevor muses, watching his cock disappear into you. “Six shots, and I didn’t make one.”

You bite back the reassurance, swallowing it. Trevor doesn’t want to hear it.

“Do you know how that feels?”

You don’t answer. He still doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll show you,” Trevor promises, his voice deceptively soft. His hand rests against your skin, heavy and present. 

You get lost in the feeling easily, your mouth full of the comforter and your fingers twisted in the top sheet. Your eyes stay closed, the red-tinged darkness grounding you. 

“Yeah, I’ll show you,” he repeats, his voice darker this time. “You’re going to understand exactly what it feels like to come so close six times, just for all of that to be taken away from you.”

Your eyes open at his words and you pale. You spit the covers out and break your silence. “Six times?” You ask, incredulous. “Trev.”

“Daddy,” Trevor corrects with a spank. “Unless that’s… not what we’re doing tonight?”

You clench down on his length at the contact and the name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sound of his voice. Trevor is playing with you, teasing you. His fingers are walking all over you– the small of your back, your cheeks, down your crack all the way to where he’s buried inside of you… and it’s distracting.

You find yourself nodding. “It is.”

“Good,” Trevor says. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make the second and third ones quick, okay?”

His voice is full of condescension, like he knows you’re going to lose track of everything as soon as he starts hitting you. He’s right, but that’s neither here nor there.

For as long as you’d been dating Trevor, you’d never seen him tap into the mindset that he has on the ice off the ice. However, when he’s bringing his hand down on your ass, he gets pretty damn close.

His spanks are precise and powerful. He’s leaving pink handprints all over your skin, from the fleshy parts of your ass to the top of your thighs, even a few falls over the hole that he’s not occupying. Each flash of his hand leaves your skin burning and your hips inching upwards, begging for more. All of this, and he’s still inside you– the torture of the spanking is that he isn’t moving, and you’re not supposed to.

You lose track of the count, feeling your stomach flip with each slap. What starts as stinging pain turns into aching pleasure, and the sensations aren’t lost on Trevor.

He feels you jolt each time he brings his hand down on your skin, the clench of your pussy around his cock, the pounding of your pulse from inside of you. Trevor smirks and shifts his hips forward as he brings his hand down, his hand making contact with your asshole just as his tip nudges against your g-spot.

You wail, lurching under Trevor’s watchful eye. You fuck back on his cock once, only managing the movement one measly time, before Trevor stills you with a hand and slides out of you.

“No,” you breathe out, voice muffled by your makeshift gag. 

“Yes,” Trevor replies, smug. “Isn’t it frustrating?”

You glare at him, turning so he can see the look on your face.

All it does is make him laugh. “Well, now I have to really punish you, don’t I?” He asks. “I can’t have my baby making angry faces at me.”

Trevor taps your hip, wordlessly telling you to move. You resume your original position next to him, expecting Trevor to tell you to put your “pretty little hand” on his cock and jerk him until he comes all over your freshly manicured fingers. 

You don’t expect him to slide under the covers and hike up your shirt until your breasts are exposed. Trevor hooks a leg around yours, his mouth exhaling warm air onto your nipple. His fingers tap at your skin, one hand on your side and the other on your mound, making its way south. 

“We’re going to do four like this,” Trevor tells you. His voice is merely a whisper, crawling over in your skin and raising goosebumps in its wake. “Just like this. I’m gonna take one,” he breathes, catching your nipple between his teeth for a split second before continuing. “Right here. Gimme one, baby, just from me licking your tits. I know you can.”

He dives in, tongue first. Your jaw drops as Trevor’s eyes close, the same way you know they do when you kiss him. It’s surreal, seeing him kiss and lick over your skin the way he normally does over your lips. His eyelashes flutter, the long, dark pieces of hair stealing your train of thought. 

Trevor surprises you with how quickly he brings you to the edge again. He promised that the second and third would be quick, but you didn’t know just how quick he meant.

You let out a strangled gasp and your hand flies to Trevor’s hair when he opens his eyes and lets his adoring gaze fix on your face. You pull him off your chest, heaving breaths filling your lungs. 

Trevor smirks, but it never quite reaches his eyes. The same look burns you, makes you shy under his gaze. You blush and look away, one of your hands covering the redness on your cheeks.

“Good,” Trevor remarks, a mere observation. “You got close, didn’t you, baby?”

You nod, still breathing heavily.

Trevor waits, expectant. He tilts his head down and blinks.

“Yes, Daddy,” you concede. “I was close.”

“Honest girl,” Trevor praises. His fingers dance over your slit. “Love you.”

“Love you,” you parrot back to him. 

Trevor rewards you by pushing one finger into your heat, pumping it in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace. 

Your breath stays shaky, your eyes never leaving Trevor’s. His finger drags along your walls, petting the inside of you with its pad, and you swear you can feel the ridges of his fingerprint inside of you if you focus enough. 

It’s hard to focus on that when Trevor’s got his scrutinizing eyes on yours, though.

“What finger is it?” Trevor asks.

“What?” You stammer, finally blinking and breaking the trance. 

Trevor’s other hand flies up to steady your chin before you can look down and ruin his game. “Which finger–” Trevor asks, curling it inside you. “–am I fucking you with?”

Your brain stalls. It’s a no-brainer, really, you should know each of Trevor’s fingers by feel alone with how often they make their way inside of you. However, you’ve been denied two orgasms already and Trevor is close to taking a third from you with just his smug stare.

“Come on,” Trevor goads. “You know which finger this is, baby. The faster you tell me, the faster I get you to your orgasm.”

“Yeah, the faster you take it away,” you reply. 

Trevor’s eyes cloud over and he jams his finger inside you, increasing his pace. “Don’t be a bitch.”

You open your mouth to retort, but Trevor twists his finger inside of you.

“Unless you want me to fuck you like one,” he teases. 

You clench down on Trevor’s finger, his middle finger you realize, when he utters those words.

“You like that?” Trevor asks, unnecessarily. He can feel how you feel about it. “You like the idea of me getting my cock in you and fucking you like a damn animal? What is it, baby? Is it the primal instinct of it all or just the fact that I’m disciplining you like you’re worth less than I am?”

You moan at his words, logical responses and formed sentences too far from you to grasp.

“Tell me.” Trevor nudges your g-spot and you arch your back, your hips grinding against his finger… just for him to draw it out of you. “Not so fast. We’ve still got three more to go.”

“I was close,” you complain.

“So was I,” Trevor counters. “Hurts, doesn’t it? When things don’t work out the way you want them to?” 

“Trevor!” You frown, put off by his game.

“Well, now you’ve really done it,” Trevor growls, shoving two fingers inside of you and resting his thumb on your clit. “You know better than to call me by my name.”

You’re drenched in sweat and slick, so Trevor’s movements aren’t hindered in the slightest, not even when you squeeze your thighs shut. All Trevor does is push them open, trap your thigh under his bony knee. Somehow, even though you just had your legs spread, Trevor seems to push in further and rub your clit faster, hitting every right spot in alternating movements: clit, then g-spot, clit, then g-spot again. And over and over.

You don’t warn him this time, you don’t pull away. You try not to clench down, you try not to rock your hips, you try anything that might get you real relief from a real orgasm without Trevor noticing.

But it’s also a futile effort because your boyfriend knows you that well.

He withdraws his fingers just as your legs, the traitors, begin to tremble.

“Oh, baby, you didn’t think you’d get away with that, did you?” Trevor teases.

“Please,” you beg. “Please, Daddy.”

Trevor’s eyes flash with approval and he teases your entrance again, this time with a third finger. “Don’t worry,” he coos. “We’ve only got two more. Then I’ll let you come.”

You choke on your own spit when Trevor buries his three fingers inside of you, all in one motion. He doesn’t dawdle or stall for time. He doesn’t take advantage of the situation at hand– that you were already shaking for him and a pump of his fingers would give you away to the pleasure just on the other side of your approaching peak.

No, he doesn’t pump his fingers. He just wiggles them as deep as he can get them and smirks before dropping a kiss on your lips. He lowers himself then and blows cool air on your clit, spreading your folds with his other hand so the full bundle of nerves is revealed to him. He leans in and captures it with his tongue, lightly sucking on the bundle. It’s not the most friction he’s ever given you, but it’s consistent. He builds you up on his tongue, slowly, so slowly. 

And when your thighs close around his head, he stops. You’re aching for a release, tears building along your waterline. Your refractory period is shrinking with each near-orgasm, your babbles begging for Trevor to do something.

“I need it,” you beg, but the words feel more like a scream with how heavy they sit on your chest. 

“Oh, I know you need it,” Trevor replies, tone mocking. “You need it so bad, you’re acting up. Talking back, not using my name, not answering my questions, trying to trick me so that you can get an orgasm. I ought to leave you like this, really show you what it’s like to be left frustrated after a disappointing performance.”

“No,” you whimper. “No, Trevor, that’s too much.”

It’s not your word, it’s not a cry of pain, but it still gives Trevor pause. 

“Need me to be sweet to you?” Trevor asks, his eyes genuine and his hair wild from your wandering grasp.

You whine, arching your back. Trevor smiles fondly, but bats you away. When your back makes contact with the mattress again, Trevor’s deft fingers pinch your nipple and cause you to arch up a second time. He pushes you back down.

“Slut,” Trevor chastises. “Think you can distract me with your tits? This isn’t amateur hour, baby. I’ve still got to steal one orgasm from you.”

You blanch at that, your eyes wide. You take in every detail of his face, panting. There isn’t anything you could say that could stop him, except your word, but you’d rather curl into a ball and die than stop this right now. The words don’t come to you to tell him to continue, though.

“I’m going to get you so close,” Trevor whispers, his face close to yours. He leans down and kisses your neck. You arch into him, your once-useless hands finding his sides. You feel over the muscle there, his lean waist and strong chest. “You’re going to be right there, baby, and then I’m going to take it all away.”

“Please,” you repeat, but it’s indecipherable whether you’re begging Trevor to let you come or begging Trevor to leave you wanting more.

“Yeah,” Trevor agrees, sliding his three fingers back into your wet cunt. 

You moan sharply at the intrusion, pumping deep into you this time and dragging along your walls in a torturous way. It feels so good, it has you seeing white specks when you manage to open your eyes and look at Trevor. His eyes are trained on your cunt, watching your wetness seep all over his fingers. When you push his hair out of his face, his eyes lift to meet yours. 

His pupils are blown wide with lust and he’s got a snarl rumbling from deep in his chest. It is primal, you realize, the way he’s bullying his fingers into your cunt without a thought about what you can or can’t handle. He’s taking you, the way that you’ll only ever allow him to do.

“Gonna come?” Trevor asks, the evil smirk overtaking his face again.

“Please,” you beg again.

“‘Please,’” Trevor mocks. “Is that the only word you know?”

He pulses his hand, his fingers bouncing off your walls and causing you to jolt and scramble to find something to hold onto. That something ends up being Trevor’s hair and the pillow to your side. Your chest is heaving again, your nipples taut and pointed and begging to be touched. 

As Trevor’s eyes trail down your body at a snail’s pace, you can feel your orgasm approaching. You yank his hair and he winces, bringing his hand to your neck and squeezing in retaliation.

“Daddy,” you wheeze, the edge of your vision growing fuzzy and dark. It’s the only warning you can give Trevor as the cliff starts to crumble below you, as you start to fall away into the orgasm that was denied from you for so long.

And when Trevor pulls his fingers out of you, he yanks you back onto solid ground.

And, unsurprisingly, you start to cry.

It’s not pretty, either. It’s not a tear here and there when you’re deepthroating your boyfriend, or the beautiful running of mascara as he fucks your face at some hockey event. No, this is full-on sobbing, gut-wrenching cries that have Trevor taking inventory of all the things he did to you, wondering if he pushed you too far. He rubs your thighs with both of his hands in a soothing motion, ignoring the glistening precum that he’s inadvertently rubbing into your skin. 

“Baby,” Trevor murmurs. 

You sob and raise your arms, needing him to hold you. Trevor’s face softens immediately and he pulls you into his chest, turning so he’s sitting with his back against the headboard and you’re awkwardly dangling half on his lap, half off. You keen into his neck, burying your face in his soft, tan skin.

“My girl,” Trevor whispers, rubbing your arms now and pulling you closer to him, comforting you with his warmth. “You’re perfect.”

“Daddy,” you whisper into his neck. “Please.”

Trevor tilts your head back and looks into your eyes. His gaze looks sad, meeting your own, red and puffy. “Please what, baby?”

“I need your cock,” You plead, petting over his stomach with a hand that feels like its made of static. “I need you to make me come, Daddy.”

Trevor groans, sounding pained. He twitches beneath you. “Like this?” He asks.

You nod, losing your words again. It’s a timid but vehement nod, needing Trevor to press inside you more than anything, but not knowing if you could handle another ruined orgasm.

“Please, let me come this time,” you say, trying to look as pathetic and needy as you can. With big doe eyes like this, Trevor has always been bad at denying you the things you want. 

“Yeah, I think I’ve tortured you enough,” Trevor agrees, reaching under you and pressing his cockhead against your entrance. “Give me a bounce, baby. Wanna see your tits jump in front of my face, yeah?”

Trevor snakes his hands around to grab your bottom, his fingers tight against the skin. He uses his leverage to bounce you for him, knowing that you don’t have control over your movements as fucked out as you are, and he’d hate to see you cry more because you’re mad at yourself for not moving the way he wanted you to.

He lifts you up and down, snapping his hips up to meet yours when they fall. His eyes flicker between your boobs and your face, the teartracks drying over your cheeks as you allow yourself to be consumed by ecstasy. One of Trevor’s hands flies upward, tracing over your skin until he threads it between the strands of your hair. Once his whole hand is enveloped in your roots, he tugs and your mouth falls open.

Trevor leans forward and directs a glob of spit down your throat, his forceful hawk causing his spit to find the back of your throat. 

You convulse on top of him, trembling under his watchful gaze and his warm cock. “Daddy,” you pant, feeling like you’re burning and drowning in your desire for him. Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth as you come and you suck on it like a child, grinding against him through your aftershocks.

You’re floating on air by the time your aftershocks cease and Trevor pulls out of you gently, grasping his cock in his fist. He’s watching you and you’re watching him. Never breaking eye contact, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

Trevor presses his tip to your tongue and strokes his cock, squeezing on the downstroke and groaning curses with each turn of his hand. He comes just seconds later, his white ropes of come gracing your tastebuds. He pulls away after only a few drops intersect with your tongue, continuing to come in spurts over your cheeks, lips, and nose. A bit of come drips down the tip of your nose and you poke your tongue out again to try and catch it, which makes Trevor laugh.

Still lost in your post-orgasm haze, you barely notice when Trevor leaves the bed and comes back with a moist towel. He wipes your face, then your thighs and pussy, dropping a kiss on your lower belly after he’s finished. You let out a breath at that, not knowing that you were holding it, astounded by the fragility and intimacy of the moment.

“Daddy,” you say out loud, mostly just to yourself. Mostly just to feel the word on your tongue, feel it take its shape in your mouth. It sounds like awe.

Trevor deposits the towel in the hamper across the room with a toss, proving yet again that his precision and accuracy are off the charts most of the time. He crowds your space, tracing your features with his delicate pinky. “Did Daddy make you feel good, baby?” Trevor asks. “You made Daddy feel good.”

You whine at that and almost want to cry again at the praise. All the time you spent wondering if you were good enough, if you’d ever get a boyfriend who loved you and stayed with you was worth it when you found Trevor. He always said the right things, made you feel things you’d never felt before. 

“I love you,” you say.

Trevor slips his thumb into your mouth, watching your eyes close in bliss as he presses it against your tongue. You can still taste where he was rubbing your pussy with this digit.

“I love you,” he replies, voice soft. His voice sounds like awe, too.

note: small town girl chapter 1 next! (hopefully)

[offbrandkyoya]

[15]

m.list next

Walking to practice didn’t seem so hard. Kageyama will show up to the classroom and awkwardly wait for them.

So then, what’s taking them so damn long?!

Kageyama has been standing outside the doorway for 20 minutes now, and there’s no sign of them! People are giving him weird looks, and it’s not helping that he has a troubled face.

“Kageyama,” one of the students approached him. “Is there someone you’re looking for?” He nods. “Maybe I can help? What’s their name?” Kageyama stutters. He isn’t sure himself, but he can’t just say milkchan; that’s embarrassing.

But if he says he doesn’t know, then that’ll ruin what he had with his crush, and what if they overhear? They’ll surely hate him and think their friendship means nothing, and he completely embarrassed them! Kageyama grumbled, then realized the person had left, probably scared of his long silence.

Kageyama peeks inside the classroom. There’s no one. Had he missed them? But he’d know if they left because, well, he likes them. Kageyama's cheeks turn red at that thought.

He’s going to be late for practice if he waits any more. He sighs, ‘Did I just get stood up?’

Kageyama roams the halls with gloom. He was really looking forward to it. They seemed so excited, too. Was he wrong?

Kageyama sighs again. “That was a waste of time.” He muttered. “Kageyama?” He perks up. Milk-Chan stands there, clutching their bag strap that hangs over their shoulder. Kageyama takes notice of their shock, and that makes him nervous. ‘Did they hear what I said?’

“I…” He glances to the side. “I didn’t mean...” “It’s okay.” They say, “I was in the bathroom.” ‘Oh.’ He feels silly now, and he scratches the back of his head. “No, it’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t notice you left your classroom.” They tilt their head with a chuckle. “I didn’t notice you were there, waiting.”

The two look at each other in confusion, but they snicker. “Let’s get going. I’m sure I’ve kept you waiting forever.” They say, and he nods. They begin to start walking together until Kageyama musters up the courage, tugs on Milk-Chan's shirt, and with flushed cheeks, he says, “I don’t think you’re a waste of time.”

He didn’t know 100% that they heard it, but still, he wanted to say it because Milk-Chan is so special. Kageyama doesn’t want the crown to get to him.

His crush turns their heads toward him with watery eyes. ‘So they did hear.’ They smiled and let out a laugh. “You’re really kind, Kageyama.” He blushed even more, and the walk continued.

When they reached the gym, Kageyama nervously looked at them. “Uh…my…” He closes his eyes in regret. “…friend…” His eyes open. “…is going to buy me meat buns after…Do you want them?” His face turns red.

Milk-chan giggled. “Sure. I’d like that. Do you want me to wait for you?” Kageyama nods. “Is that okay?” They laugh. “I mean, I’m the one who asked.” Kageyama feels even more flustered.

“Kageyamaaaaa!!” Hinata storms out of the gym. “Where were you?! You know that counts as my win!” “Shut the hell up!” Hinata notices his crush, then lets out a loud gasp. “You actually brought them!” “Of course I did dumbass!” “What’s going on?” Daichi walks out with his arms crossed. “Kageyama brought his..." The tall one sends him a hard glare.

Hinata shivers, then nervously chuckles. “He brought his friend.” Daichi raises a brow. “Okay? Listen, Kageyama, you’re late, which isn’t like you.” “Sorry…” Milk-Chan stands in front of Kageyama. “It’s my fault. I kept him waiting.” Daichi sighs, “It’s fine. He’s here; that’s all that matters.”

“Come on, Kageyama.” Daichi grabs his arm and drags him inside. Hinata glances at his crush. “Did he tell you that he wants to feed you meat buns?” “Huh?” "HINATA, YOU DUMB FUCK, I'M NOT DOING THAT!!!!!” “KAGEYAMA, HINATA, BACK TO WORK!”

laughs evilly

watching chicago med n all I do is cry

@karma-gisa @cosmiicdust @abcdefghijklmzopqrstuvwxyz @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @xmagik @tnazips @zhochikennugget @makkir0ll @asp7n @hrkdlsjz @lucky-chars @azharyy @gigiiiiislife @ahnneyong @rouzuchan @bakarinnie @djmoyolehuani @rinheartshyunlix @weirdowithaphone

[writerpetals]

Oo oo Yeonjun from txt + invisible string by Taylor swift 🥹 tysm!! ♥️

okay so i love that song and love the idea of it, so i hope i did it justice. haha i wanted it to be a little silly but still cute~ ^^

When a drunken frat boy spills his drink on your heels, you knew you should have never come to this party. Not like you enjoy spending your Saturday nights around the stench of beer and couples making out in every corner of the off-campus Beta Theta Xi mansion. You only came because the guy you matched on a sketchy dating app stood you up. You didn’t want to spend your night moping about it, so you followed your best friend Fiona to the night’s rager, but you’re wishing you hadn’t.

“‘Scuse me,” you mumble, brushing past two couples grinding to the latest top forty hit and making a beeline toward the stairs. You need to find a bathroom to make an attempt to clean your heels before the stain sets in. They’re your last pair of “going out” heels and you’ll be damned if they’re ruined. “Pardon me.” You slip past a few groups of people conversing. 

Luckily for you, you make it to the end of the hall after making a right at the top of the stairs to find a bathroom with no line. You’re thankful the music isn’t so loud up here so you can actually hear your own thoughts. You’re not usually such a downer about parties, but you just aren’t feeling it tonight when everything seems to have gone wrong.

When you go to open the bathroom door, it’s suddenly being jerked away from you. You come face to face with a very surprised, very handsome guy wearing his baseball hat low and a black tank top beneath a gray jacket. His eyes go wide, but then his gaze lowers to take in your date outfit. Just a simple black dress and matching heels that are currently soaked with alcohol. Nothing special, but you still need to get in there.

“Excuse me,” you say, pushing past him. “Are you done in here?”

The stranger smirks. “Well, I guess I am n-”

He doesn’t finish his sentence before you’re shutting the door on him. You didn’t mean to be rude, but this is a shoe emergency. You grab as much toilet paper as you can to begin dabbing away the liquid. After a few minutes, they begin to look alright. At least they were suede, you think. You’re satisfied enough that you leave the bathroom to head downstairs. Luckily, there’s still no one in the hall, taking your time to enjoy the quiet while you can.

You look for Fiona once you’re downstairs again, the bass from the music making it hard to concentrate, but you finally spot her. Unfortunately, she’s already found the guy she will be making out with all night, leaving you alone to fend for yourself. Perfect.

You know the night isn’t going to get better, so you send her a text that says you’re leaving before calling an Uber to come pick you up. If you can’t enjoy your night, at least you can go home to pig out on junk food and watch a movie. It takes a few minutes for you to actually squeeze past everyone to make it outside. You know there’s way too many people here, so the thought of leaving actually fills you with relief.

You wait a few moments pacing out front before a black sedan pulls up the long driveway.

“Thank goodness,” you exhale the words before opening the passenger’s door to the car, slipping into the seat and reaching for the seatbelt. “You came quickly, but I’m so ready to go, so thanks for that. Ready?” The Uber driver hesitates for a moment, then he puts the car into drive just as you tuck your phone away into your clutch.

“Sure,” he simply says, and you swear you’ve heard that voice before. Recently. Like just twenty minutes ago.

“You’re the guy from the bathroom!” When you finally turn to look at him, you notice the same baseball cap and jacket. “Were you just like… waiting around the party to Uber people home?”

“Uber people?”

“Yeah, you’re an Uber driver, right?” He blinks at the question, staring at the road in front of him with a frown on his face.

“What? No.” Your heart sinks at the realization. This is not your Uber driver. This is a complete stranger you’re in the car with. And, yeah, okay, Uber drivers are strangers, too, but at least they can be tracked. Speaking of, you never bothered to check the app to see if the driver made it. You only assumed it was your drive because you were only half paying attention.

“What do you mean? Why are you driving me home if you’re not an Uber driver?” You lean up in your seat, heart racing while you look around the car for a possible escape plan.

“Because Fiona asked me to take one of her drunken friends home. You’re not Lily?”

Your eyes grow wide. “Okay, first of all, Lily is a six foot five football player. Short for William. It’s just a joke we tease him with.” He looks even more confused as you speak, and your mind is racing with how this happened in the first place. “Secondly, how do you know Fiona? Thirdly, what the hell? I just jumped in your car and you just took off without even knowing who I was! I could be a murderer! You could be a murderer! Oh my God… please don’t murder me before I can get my grade up in environmental science or my parents will kill me.”

Okay, maybe you shouldn’t drink anymore at parties. You only had one cup, but you suddenly feel lightheaded and queasy. 

“Hey, calm down,” he tells you, stopping at a red light to turn and face you. “I’ve never met William, so I assumed it would be someone that is not six foot five getting into my car. Fiona and I met last year and we’ve been cool. She’s helped me a lot with studying. And I’m not a murderer, I promise. Okay? Just breathe.”

You weren’t aware how shallow your breaths were. You inhale deep, hold it for a few seconds, then exhale slowly through your nose. Your heart rate begins to come down. You can think a little more clearly.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, not daring to look at him. The light has changed to green, but he doesn’t notice. Luckily, there’s no other car on the road. “I can’t believe I freaked out on you like that. I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just had a really terrible night and wanted to go home and thought you were the Uber I called and… I’m so sorry.”

He stares at you for a moment, then suddenly he’s bursting with laughter. The amused sound fills the car, watching him throw his head back against the seat and finally take off once the light is green again. 

“That makes so much sense,” he simply says, pulling out his phone from his pocket while keeping one hand on the wheel. “Let me make sure William was able to get a ride.”

“Don’t text and drive!” you say before you can stop yourself. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He’s grinning as he dials Fiona’s number. It rings so long you expect her not to pick up, but finally you hear her muffled voice in the speaker. He explains the mix up, and she tells him William went home with his sober roommate, and all should be good. Then Fiona asks who he picked up instead. “What’s your name?” he asks in a whisper, and you tell him as warmth fills your face the moment he whispers his name in return. You must have forgotten in all the confusion to introduce yourself. That’s twice tonight you’ve been rude to him. You don’t like who you become when you’re stood up.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” you tell him, glancing down at your hands in your lap. “I was so frustrated from tonight, and my date standing me up, and the drink on my shoes. I wouldn’t even have been at the party if I actually went through with the date. I didn’t mean to slam the door in your face.”

“You were stood up?” That’s what he chooses to focus on?

“Yeah. Some guy on a dating app. I should know better than to use them, but sometimes it’s so hard to meet people.” You sigh, making a mental note to delete the app when you get back home. 

Your thoughts are interrupted, however, when you hear him laughing. Now he thinks it’s funny you got stood up? Maybe you deserve it. You did slam a door in his face after pushing him out of the bathroom, and then proceeded to jump in his car and yell at him. You can take a little laughter at your expense.

“Sorry,” he says once his laugh dies down. “It’s just funny, because I shouldn’t have been at the party, either. I was also supposed to be on a date from someone I met on a dating app.”

Your jaw hangs open. What are the chances? “That is funny, actually.” You can’t help but to giggle. “Were you stood up too, or did you do the standing up?”

“First of all, I’m not the type to stand anyone up,” he responds playfully, causing you to giggle again. “But, no, she canceled a few days ago. She seemed regretful, so it’s no big deal.” He offers a casual shrug while stopping at another red light. 

“Well, I should have just stayed at home and been sad like I originally planned.” An exhausted sigh falls from your lips. “I only left because Fiona was making out with some guy and I knew, like, no one else there. Well, besides William. But he gets drunk and tries to wrestle everyone. It’s not a fun time. Probably why Fiona wanted someone to take him home.” 

He chuckles at that, continuing to drive once the light turns green again. “Crazy, because the reason I left was due to my only friend there making out with Fiona, my other only friend.” 

“Hmm,” you ponder out loud. “It’s almost like I was meant to jump in your car. Maybe we should have just matched each other in the dating app.” Your stomach flips from the conversation. You’re only teasing, but really, it probably would have ended much better. Maybe he wouldn’t have spilled his drink on your heels. 

“Well, maybe tonight was meant to be.” There’s a shy grin on his lips. You can only look forward or else your heart will beat right out of your chest. “We’re here now. Together.”

“That’s because I haven’t told you where I live, yet.” Your playful words have you both laughing. Suddenly, you don’t feel so upset over being stood up. You don’t even care about Fiona leaving you to make out with someone, or the drink on your shoes. 

“Are you going to tell me so I can make sure you get home safely?” He looks over at you, brows raised just a little. You grin at the question, deciding to take control of the night into your own hands.

“Drive around a little more. I want to see what I missed by not matching with you.” 

He smiles wide with a simple nod. Just because the rest of the night didn’t go as planned, doesn’t mean it didn’t happen for a reason.

[steddiecameraroll]

This is Supposed to Be My Damn Year

52,151 words | Rating E | Eddie 1st person POV; pre- and post- S4

[snippet ↓]

“Eddie?” Dustin comes huffing over to me and stands there with a bright smile. This damn kid, he’s lucky he’s special.

“Sup?” I nod and pretend with all my might that I am casual as hell and that I don’t feel like a ball of jittery nerves. Which obviously I am. I’m standing in Steve Harrington’s house while he’s looking at me, not two feet away. This is the worst.

“You made it. I thought you were gonna ditch us.”

“Yeah, probably why you made The King here call me.”

“Please stop calling me that.” Steve’s voice is confident yet quiet.

I whip my head over to look at him because I’m surprised he’s saying anything. Does he not like being called The King anymore? That’s news to me. He had worn that crown proudly previously.

“Are you no longer royalty, Harrington? Doth my ears hear correctly? Are you nothing but a lowly peasant now? Like one of us?” I motion between myself and Dustin because clearly, Dustin is a nerd, not a King.

“I’m-I’m just Steve. Steve is fine.” He dares to roll his eyes at me and then walk away. I watch him amused and a little confused but at least amused.

“I told you, he’s not that guy anymore,” Dustin whispers as he steps closer.

“Sure, so you say, Henderson. We will see. So who’s here? What are we watching? Where are the fancy snacks?” I rub my hands together because snacks at a rich kids’ house are chef’s kiss perfection. They usually have Squeeze-its or Twinkies or different Doritos. If I have to endure hours in this massive hellscape, I will eat my weight in expensive snacks.

Dustin leads me through the entrance of this weird house and to the kitchen. There are a couple other people in here, including Robin Buckley. Why is Robin Buckley at Steve Harrington’s house?

“Eddie?” She’s looking at me how I imagine I am looking at her, very confused.

“Robin? What are you doing here?”

“You two know each other?” Dustin points between us surprised to see I know anyone other than him.

“Yeah, I know more than those of you in Hellfire. Robin and I are in band. So why are you here?”

“I’m…” She looks as if her brain has short-circuited and can’t compute language. 

“Her and Steve are best friends. I don’t know why they’re not dating, but anyway.” 

“What?” Yeah, I definitely walked through a parallel universe. What is Dustin talking about? How could The Hair be best friends with a trumpet-playing hyperactive nerd girl who I’m pretty sure is a little… y’know…fruity. Actually, that’s probably why they’re not dating. Oh, so Dustin doesn’t know that part. “You’re friends with The Hair?”

“The Hair? Ughh, don’t call him that.” She scrunches her face in disgust.

“Ok, I have to ask this out loud because I feel like I’m losing my mind. Did I walk through a wormhole?” I’m waving my hands in front of me, looking back and forth between Robin, Dustin, and, oh god, Nancy Wheeler. “What are you…? What is happening here?” Ok, so this is weirder than I even imagined it to be.

“We’re all friends,” Robin says so matter-of-factly that I almost take her at her word.

“How?” But my skepticism wins out.

I see a look between Nancy and Robin that clearly has some meaning behind it, but I have no idea what it is. Dustin is also giving them a knowing look. So yeah, something has happened between these so-called friends, and I wonder if I walked into an orgy. Is this an orgy? No, no, there are children here, that’s not it, ew, no. Wait, did Steve and Nancy split up because Nancy is with Robin? Oh, that could be entertaining.

“Just normal ways.” Does Nancy think that answer was sufficient? She stands there awkwardly, crossing her arms and avoiding making eye contact. So no, she knows that was bullshit.

“I’m sorry, but I need one of you to fully explain at least a fraction of what the fuck is going on. Henderson, I’m looking at you, kid. Because you were the one that begged me to come here. So it’s on you, kiddo, to fill me in.” I cross my arms and glare at him. Show time, Dusty.

“Why are you all standing in the kitchen?” Steve interrupts the moment, and everyone seems to be relieved. They shouldn’t, though, because I’m not letting this go.

“Because, Harrington, they’re explaining how you all are friends. And you’re somehow best friends with Robin Buckley? Your ex-girlfriend is standing in your kitchen as if that’s normal, and Dustin Henderson speaks so highly of you that you’d think you went to war together.”

Dustin starts choking on his soda and almost spits all over me. I wipe my hands over my jacket front and grimace at the bodily fluids.

“Sorry,” he shamefully bows his head and steps away from me.

“Robin and I worked at Scoops Ahoy together at the mall before it burned down. We kinda went through some shit during the fire, so we bonded. Also, wearing a sailor uniform during that whole thing can feel war-like.”

I forgot about the mall fire. I didn’t realize Steve or Robin had been involved. Shit, that’s some massive trauma-bonding experience.

“Wow, wait, sailor uniforms?” I look between them, hoping one of them will crack. “Do you still have these uniforms? Because I think if I could see this whole scenario, maybe it would help me understand.” Do you think it’s working?

“No…” Robin speaks first.

“Yes…” Steve interrupts.

Everyone in the room turns and stares at him. I don’t think I could even wipe the smile off my face. Oh god, yes, please go put it on. I need to see The King in a fucking sailor uniform. Not because I love a man in a uniform, but yeah, but no, because how the mighty have fallen. Also, a sailor uniform? So like a hat and shit? Did he wear those giant wide-legged white pants? What kind of uniform was this? How did no one tell me Steve Harrington was working at an ice cream shop that I could’ve gone to and seen in fucking person? No one. Not a soul ever shared this information. I need better friends.

“You do not,” Robin exclaims.

“Yeah, I do.” He says so nonchalantly like obviously he does.

An evil grin spreads across my lips, and I can’t help myself. “Please, oh, please, Harrington, prove her wrong.” I slowly lick my bottom lip because I’m only a man, and the person in front of me is very hot. Sure, I hate him, but I can appreciate the beauty.

He smiles, he fucking smiles, then rolls his eyes and shakes his head. Oh god, I need to get out of here, or by the end of this night, I might actually like this dick, not just his dick.

“Maybe next time you’re invited, and I don’t have to call you to remind you to show up.” 

Is he flirting with me? I look at everyone else in the room, hoping one of them will tell me if Steve Harrington is flirting with me. But, unfortunately, none of them are paying attention. Oh my god. Is he flirting with me? I think I’m having a heart attack.

“Come on, dingus, where are your snacks?” Robin pokes Steve in the chest and starts opening cabinet doors.

“Dingus? She’s allowed to call you dingus, but I can’t call you King?” I can’t stifle the laugh that bubbles from my chest, and I’m having too much fun for my own good.

This is going to be something I remember forever. I would write about this night for days if I had a diary. Cute little pink diary with a tiny little lock that is easily broken but holds all my deep dark secrets of this weird fucking night.

Read more on ao3 👀

[luvvsessed]

Communications Error [M] Part One

-> There’s nothing worse than accidentally texting the guy you can’t fucking stand about how you wanted to sit on his face.

Part One: Connected.mp3

Bang Chan x F!Reader [1st. POV]

3,554 words

Genre: smut, romance, slight angst

warnings under the cut

Note: i want to beat him up (affectionate)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and in no way an attempt to be a true depiction of anyone. It’s just fun!

Warnings: explicit content, smut, face sitting, oral [f], protected sex [very good]

"Okay... we're all set up," I said as I put the last pack of solo cups on the table, quickly looking over the spread of snacks and food that was laid out on the table. "Momo, you said the rest of the food will be here soon, right?"

"Yup!" the girl said cheerfully, sitting on the couch with her phone. "Ten large pizzas and an abnormal amount of wings."

"Courtesy of Jackson, of course." I said with a grin, earning a huff from the man in question. "Hey, you decided to host another party... it's your job!"

He rolled his eyes and waved me off. "Yeah, yeah. And it's not a party, I just wanted to hang out with my friends."

Jackson and Momo were two of my best friends and as usual, whenever Jackson wanted to throw something together, we would help him set it up. Still, I rolled my eyes at him. "Anything that involves you is a damn party, especially when alcohol is involved!"

Still, it ended up only being a chill, kickback situation, with just a few of our mutual friends arriving at Jackson's house within a few hours. Music was playing, folks either hanging around talking or sitting in the living room watching the soccer game playing on the TV.

I was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. I went to open the front door, my smile immediately falling off my face as soon as I saw the person standing there.

"Oh great. It's you," I groaned, turning to walk away. Of course he would be here.

"Great, my night is ruined before it even started," Chan said with a sigh, walking in with Felix and Changbin in tow. I threw a mean look at him over my shoulder.

"I could say the same damn thing," I hissed, giving the man I obviously did not like a once over. Jeans, white tshirt and chain, a blue snapback placed backwards on his head. I wrinkled my nose at him, turning my nose up and storming away.

I did my best to keep away from the absolute bane of my existence, hanging with Momo and Tsuyu in a corner with drinks in our hands.

"You have to admit..." Momo started, a mischievous tone in her voice. "The frat boy look he got going on is kind of attractive." She finished, giggling when I glared at her.

"I do not have a response to that," I hissed. "He's rude and annoying. That's not attractive at all."

"Mmhmm," Momo just hummed, sharing a knowing look with Tsuyu. "Whatever you say."

"Don't tease her," Tsuyu said with a grin. "She might kill you."

They laughed and I rolled my eyes, finishing my drink. I thought of getting another one, when Momo and Tsuyu suddenly shushed themselves. Someone stepped up to us and I scowled when I saw Chan.

"You got cashapp, right?" he asked and I raised my eyebrow at him.

"Yeah? Why the hell do you want to know?"

"Well," Chan started with a look. "I don't. I'm sending you money. Send it to Felix on his cashapp."

I made a face. "Why not ask Changbin?"

"He doesn't have zelle, oh my God. Just fucking do it."

I glared at him, watching him tap away on his phone. "What the hell is going on?" I asked, looking at my phone when I got the zelle notification. I tapped around, quickly sending Felix the money on cashapp.

"Owe him for buying the beers tonight," he answered and I nodded. Felix got a hefty discount at the liquor store for some unknown reason, so it was usual for us to take advantage of that.

"Well, that's done," I said, shooing Chan away. "Now go."

"Don't have to tell me twice. Could only listen to your voice so much before my ears start to bleed." And he went off with that, ignoring how my jaw dropped. I clenched my fists at my sides, Momo and Tsuyu having watched the entire interaction with amusement.

"God, he's so fucking infuriating," I growled, turning to my phone again and opening up the short text thread I had with Chan. Unfortunately since we were in the same circle, we were bound to get each other's numbers. I shot him a quick text anyway.

[10:37:45] me: lose my fucking number, christopher

[10:38:02]chris bitch: get fucked. dont text me again

I growled, clenching my phone in my fist tightly. Momo snorted, Tsuyu drinking from her cup. "Hey," Momo started. "You good?"

"No!" I answered before storming off to where the alcohol was. Momo snickered again, leaning in towards Tsuyu.

"You think she'll ever realize that Chris has been staring at her all night?"

Tsuyu giggled behind her hand. "No. She's too busy hate-lusting over him." That made Momo snort into her cup.

After I got another drink, I made my way over to the living area, where some of the guys were watching soccer. I managed to snag an empty seat on the couch, though unfortunately for me, Chan ended up sitting at the loveseat. I made a face, keeping my eyes on the TV.

Though I couldn't help taking a few glances at him, tapping my fingers against my bare knee. He shifted, eyes on the TV, his body relaxed with one arm draped over the back of the couch. I tightly clenched the skirt of my dress, biting the inside of my mouth.

"Dammit," I cursed, grabbing my phone and sending a quick text.

[11:05:17] me: he's so fucking fine it drives me absolutely insane

[11:05:32] me: i hate him and his stupid fucking hat and his stupid fucking face

[11:06:03] me: i wanna ride his face...

[11:06:43] me: i will kill Chan with my own two hands

After sending the quick slew of messages to the group chat with Momo and Tsuyu, I got up from the couch, leaving my phone on the cushion to keep my place as I went to get a snack. I didn't notice Chan looking at his phone, both his eyebrows drawn up as he laughed to himself.

I returned a moment later with some chips, grabbing my phone and frowning in confusion when I didn't see a response from either of the girls. I ate my chips, opening my phone and then the messenger app.

Except...

My jaw dropped, wide eyes staring at the text messages I accidentally sent to the wrong damn person. And I knew Chan had read them because of the God forsaken read on the corner of the last message. My heart fell to my ass, my face burning hot as I froze in place. Oh no....

Gulping, I dared to glance over, and that was a mistake. He was staring at me, a smug look on his face as he smirked at me. All he had to do was quirk an eyebrow up at me and I was shooting out of my seat and all but running away.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," I whispered to myself as I climbed up the stairs to the second floor. It was much quieter up there, a perfect place for me to deal with my utter embarrassment and humiliation. My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the tears already start to burn in my eyes.

"Fuck, fuck!" I exclaimed, walking into one of the unused bedrooms, pacing around frantically. "I can't believe I sent those messages, God I'm so stupid. Shit, shit! He's gonna think I'm a fucking weirdo now."

My back was turned to the door as I continued to pace and talk at a mile a minute. "God please kill me now."

The door closed behind me and I whipped around, freezing in place as I saw Chan leaning back against the door he just closed, an amused look on his handsome face.

"No, please continue. It's fun watching you freak out like this," he said, gesturing with his hand and I glared at him, clenching my jaw.

"Haha, very funny," I tried to sound mean, but my tone didn't have it's usual bite it had whenever I spoke to him. I just looked away, standing there awkwardly as my lips trembled. I was not going to cry in front of him. "What the hell do you want? I'm already super embarrassed, so I'm sure nothing you'll say or do will make me feel even worse than I do now."

He pushed himself away from the door, stepping closer to me. "Why would I try to make you feel worse?" he asked and all I could do is give him a bewildered look.

"Um, because you don't fucking like me?" I answered and he just tilted his head, his lips curled up. I huffed and crossed my arms over my chest, frowning deeply. "A-and I'm sorry if those texts made you... uncomfortable or anything..." I bit my lip nervously, just wanting to disappear into a black hole. "God, this is a fucking disaster."

Chan had the nerve to laugh and I just heaved out a sigh, shoulders slumping. I looked up at him, gasping when he suddenly backed me up against the nearby bookshelf. One hand reached behind me to grab onto the shelf as he leaned in, leaving me partially trapped as he looked me in my eyes with his hooded ones.

"It didn't make me uncomfortable," he said, licking his lips slowly and I tried not to stare. "In fact, I found it kinda funny."

I huffed. "Well, that makes me feel better, I guess."

"Mmhmm," Chan hummed, and he stepped closer to me, our bodies barely touching. "Good, I'm glad. Let's make it even, shall we?” I just stared at him. “You wanna ride my face? Well, I want to fuck you into that mattress over there."

I gaped at him in disbelief, my heart pounding in my ears. Wh...what did he just say? He couldn't be serious, right? "Chris..."

"Well?" he asked, leaning his head in as he looked at me expectantly. "Should we make our little fantasies come true?"

My mouth went dry before I let out a nervous laugh. His presence was heavy, almost stifling as he openly ogled at me, eyes roaming all over my body before he looked back into my eyes. "This isn't funny, you jerk..."

"I'm not trying to be," Chan answered, lifting his other hand to grab my hip. I jolted. "You piss me the fuck off, but God if I didn't think about dragging you off somewhere to fuck you stupid. Maybe that'll make you shut up."

The image of that made it hard for me to swallow, the grip he had on my hip sending me into overdrive. Biting my lip, I looked over to the made bed before looking back at him. He smirked at that, grabbing my wrist and pulling me over to the bed.

"That's right," he said with a laugh. "Take your panties off, but keep the dress on. It's cute."

"I-" I blushed, looking down at the floral dress I wore as Chan went to lock the door. I looked up and his shirt was off, so I scrambled to pull down my panties as he climbed on the bed after kicking off his sneakers.

I could not believe I was doing this.

I tossed my panties to the floor, looking at Chan who made himself comfortable on the bed. I barely had time to appreciate his body before he beckoned me over with his hand. "Well? Come on, take a seat."

I flushed, a deep chill going down my spine as I closed my eyes. I took in a deep breath before I climbed on the bed, hesitating before I straddled his hips. Something hard pressed against my thigh, but I didn't dare acknowledge it.

Chan then huffed, growing impatient. "Get your ass up here, what the fuck?"

"Shut up, I'm coming," I hissed back at him, my face hovering over his as I put my arms down to start crawling upwards. "You're fucking annoying."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever," Chan snorted, his hands grabbing my hips as he helped me move up until my knees were on either side of his head, my pussy hovering just over his face. He took in a shuddering breath. "Well shit..."

"W-what..." I asked, feeling super exposed by this position, biting my lip as I felt his breath ghost over my thighs. "Shut up..."

That made him laugh as he squeezed my thighs, and I let him pull me down right on top of his mouth. I gripped the headboard, closing my eyes and gasping softly when I felt his tongue give me one slow, deep lick. He did it again, hands squeezing my thighs tightly as he started eating me out.

Chan's mouth was heavenly, my legs shaking as I moaned out repeatedly in pleasure. "It feels good..." I moaned softly, earning a small chuckle as he circled my clit with his tongue.

"Yeah?" he hummed, sucking my clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue against it. I cried out, my knuckles turning white with how hard I grabbed the headboard.

"Fuck! Chris, oh my God," I gasped, bowing my head between my arms. My dress completely draped around his head, making the scene all the more arousing. I whimpered loudly, stilling as his hand moved under my dress and I felt him press two fingers against my entrance.

"No," I gasped out and he stilled immediately, moving his hands out of my dress to hold my hips.

"Are you okay?"

"I need you now," I whimpered again and I could hear him let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank God, I thought I did something wrong."

"The only thing you're doing wrong is not putting your dick inside me."

Chan laughed, pushing me back until I was sitting on the mattress, holding myself up with my arms. He sat up, and the look in his eyes sent chills down my spine. Dark and fierce, full of lust as he continued to move until I was on my back, him hovering over me as he licked his lips.

"You taste good, by the way," he hummed, biting his bottom lip as he leaned in. "Here, try..." He pressed his lips to mine in a deep kiss, shoving his tongue in my mouth to make me taste myself. I groaned deeply, grabbing onto his shoulders as he kissed my breath away.

"Fuck..." he groaned, sitting up on his knees as looking down at me. "You're so fucking hot. I bet you wore this pretty dress to get my attention, huh?"

I rolled my eyes and snorted. "The day I wear anything to get your attention is the day Hell freezes over. Get over yourself, Christopher."

He snickered, digging into his jean pockets and tossing the object onto my belly. I grabbed the tiny foil packet, blushing slightly as he climbed off the bed to pull off his jeans and underwear. Just seeing him in all his glory turned me on, licking my lips as he stood before me. My eyes moved down and down, eyes going wide when I saw his dick.

Chan grinned widely. "I'm gonna fuck your brains out, babe," he promised as he climbed back over me, kissing me again. We made out for a bit, his hands massaging all over my body through my dress. He kissed down my neck and I ran my fingers through his hair, eyes fluttering closed. "Here... put it on."

Chan pressed the wrapped condom to my hand before sitting up on his knees again. I sat up, kissing him as I tore open the condom, tossing the foil to the floor. I bit my lip as I put the condom on him, looking up and kissing on his chin as I stroked his dick a few times.

"Shit, you better stop," Chan said before he grabbed my wrist. He pinned me back down to the bed, kissing me hard. He kept his lips on mine as he reached down between us, grabbing his cock and pressing it against me. He pushed in, and my head tilted back as I let out a low groan.

"Shit," I cursed, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as Chan pressed kisses on my neck. The stretch burned deliciously, and I found myself panting as Chan pushed himself all the way inside me.

"God, you feel so good," Chan moaned against my neck, not waiting before he's slowly thrusting in and out of me. He made sure his lips were pressing against me, either kissing me or sliding along my neck and chest. His fingers curled into my hair, his free hand moving down to hike one of my legs up.

"Mmmn, Chris," I moaned, my mouth falling open as he started to fuck into me faster, and deeper. He pressed hot kisses to my neck, the bed creaking with each thrust. "Please..."

He stopped, and before I could protest, I'm turned onto my stomach, a bit disoriented as he pulled me up to my knees and elbows, my dress hanging off around my waist. I groaned when he pushed himself right back into me, grabbing my hips harshly.

The sounds of skin slapping against skin filled the room along with our moans and groans. The way he fucked me made stars burst in my vision, me pressing my face against the mattress as I cried from the intense pleasure.

"Yeah, it feel good?" Chan asked, his breaths coming out in pants. "You like it when I fuck you?"

"Hmm!" I could only moan as I nod my head, my fists clutching the bed sheets as he drives his cock into me. I turned my head to breathe, gasping out as I could see him in my peripheral vision. "So good! Fuck, Chris...” I shook my head, the more logical part of me screaming at me for doing this with him of all people. “Ugh, I hate you.”

He threw his head back and laughed loudly, leaning over me. His chest pressed against my back as he whispered harshly in my ear. "I hate you too." Before he pressed a kiss against it. He chuckled again, straightening up to keep fucking me.

"Hmm..." I hummed, biting my lip. "Chan.. I'm close..." I whimpered. "I need..."

"Yeah, baby, I gotchu," Chan whispered, keeping up his thrusts as he wrapped an arm around my waist, pressing his fingers against my clit. He smirked when I moaned, circling my clit with his fingers. "Ya gonna cum around my cock, huh?"

"Hm, yes!" I cried out, pressing my face to the mattress again. He kept at it, earning more and more moans and whines from me as I felt myself get closer and closer to my orgasm.

"That's it," Chan whispered harshly, sweat dripping down his temples. "Come on, baby. Cum for me, yeah?"

I whined again, and not soon after, my orgasm hit me like a bus and I cried into the mattress as insane pleasure washed over my body. My walls squeezed tightly around his cock, making Chan groan deeply as he fucked me through my orgasm.

"Shit... shit..." he gasped harshly, fucking into me a few more times until he's finally cumming himself, cursing under his breath as he released his load into the condom. "Fuck!"

After a moment, he pulled out of me and we both collapsed on the bed, breathing heavily. I turned to lay on my back, my eyes half closed, not focused at all as I stared up at the ceiling. I licked my lips, looking over at Chan who also moved to his back, his forearm covering his eyes.

"We have a problem," he suddenly spoke and I blinked at him. "I might want to do this again."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, sitting up on the bed. "You're lucky we even did this at all." I moved to sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing my panties from the floor. Chan laughed, pulling the condom off him and tying it off before throwing it in the trash.

"Hmm, maybe so," he replied and I rolled my eyes again before moving to pull my panties on. "Wait."

I blinked at him again and, while still naked, Chan reached into the nightstand and tossed me a pack of baby wipes. "To clean yourself with."

"Oh..." I said rather dumbly. "That's thoughtful... thank you..."

We cleaned ourselves up in a comfortable silence, which surprised me. There was no awkwardness or anything of the sort. He got dressed while I fixed myself up, not saying a word even as we left the bedroom and made our way back to a still pretty live party.

I ignored Momo and Tsuyu's pestering and questioning my whereabouts, effectively shutting them up with a harsh glare. My face was burning hot, and I just couldn't tell them what happened yet.

Hours later, we finally left, and as I dozed off in the back of Momo's car, I got another text.

[4:23:32] chris bitch: you still want me to lose your number ;)

[4:23:46] me: fuck off

-end

next->

[miller-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

PART TWO: GUNSLINGER

Arthur Morgan x Gunslinger!Reader

18+, mdni (this work is not necessarily 18+, but my blog as a whole is)

Summary: The famous 'kid' settles into the camp, but slight problems arise when Dutch learns his new gunslinger hasn't ever fired a rifle. Arthur Morgan, the loyal enforcer, is all too happy to oblige is lending his help... for a price. (Reader is based on Texas Red from the Song 'Big Iron')

Warnings: reader is female but is disguised as a young male (use of masc pronouns towards reader by everyone accept Arthur), use of guns, reader is described to have a masculine outer appearance (for show) and is mentioned to have reddish hair (for the sake of the storyline). A fake name is used but otherwise can be read completely as a reader insert.

Word Count: 3.5k (pathetic, i know)

Hey howdy hey, welcome back for part two of this fluffy little cowboy story that is going to become such a hellscape later on. Just sit back and relax while it lasts and enjoy it... bc it's gonna be so crazy y'all

“Now,” he said, setting the rifle by the tree. “I don’t just go about teachin’ folk how to shoot for free.” “But Dutch said that-” “I know what Dutch said,” he nodded, approaching closer and crossing his arms. “I still expect something in return for my services.” You scoffed. “I ain’t got nothing you would want.”

You haven’t seen much of the nature of Agua Fria, but you’re glad you’re able to, now. You’d town hopped a few times within the city, letting new faces get a look at yours. But there was a sort of pressure in those crowded areas, and it doesn’t feel like that in the Van Der Linde campsite. 

The gang has taken well to you. It’s been a fortnight since you joined up, the ragtag gang of outlaws, thieves, and gunslingers had been welcoming, given your display on just the day after your arrival.

Dutch has yet to send you on any jobs, mainly because of something you revealed to everyone around the campfire a week ago. 

“How does one shoot a rifle?” you pondered curiously, the silence of the group making you anxious.

“Boy, you better be pulling my leg,” Dutch himself butted in, shaking his head in disbelief. A cigarette hung from his lips, but he pulled it away to stare you down. 

“Well, I just…” haven’t ever shot one before. You’d trailed off before any further mockery could be made, but it was too late.

“You mean to tell me, that in eighteen years of life, you never managed to fire a rifle?” Arthur chimed in, though he was in on your secret, this revelation still surprised him. What else were you hiding?

“If y’all are just gonna mock me, I’m turnin’ in.”

Dutch laughed, and everyone else in the circle made an attempt to undo the harm done. 

“Javier ain’t even played a damn note, and you’re gonna sleep?” John cut in, his gravelly voice full of resentment to your attitude. Maybe you were a bit touchy, but it’s not like you’d ever had close friends to joke around with before. Much less people who got away with poking so much fun to your name.

“Who cares if he can’t shoot a rifle? He’s got a faster shot than all of you with a pistol,” Tilly piped up, her sweet voice just about putting all the other men in their place. She looked at you with contrition. “I’m not very good with those big guns, either.” 

“Thank you, Miss Tilly,” you tipped your hat, sitting back down on the log next to her. 

Arthur chuckled under his breath watching the interaction, going back to the drink in his hand with a shake of his head. He wouldn’t say anything, he promised he wouldn’t… but some of these occurrences were just too amusing, he couldn’t help his genuine reactions. The slanted jokes about male anatomy towards you, usually coming from John, Sean, or even the calendar boys. The way that you nearly had a heart attack when Miss Grimshaw offered to help you out of your clothes to wash them. Even now, the sweet words from Tilly and the funny way you looked at your feet to avoid meeting her eyes. 

That was another thing… You couldn’t bear to break the young girl’s heart, although she would have to find out eventually that you were not in fact the man she thought you were. 

He’d been surprised, if he’s honest. He thought that with all her romantic notions and storybook thoughts that Mary-Beth would be the one to fancy a new gunslinger… but maybe you just weren’t her type. Perhaps it was the red hair that deterred her, he knows for sure that was the case when Sean tried his luck. Good thing Karen was there to catch his fall... But sweet Tilly had no idea what she was in for.

He’d teased you about it over the next week, and finally today, when it was time to show you the ropes of a rifle. Dutch insisted that running with them required knowledge of more than pistols and revolvers, and who better to teach than the enforcer himself?

“Like this?” you asked, trying to place the gun correctly. 

“Yeah sure, if you wanna blow your arm out of socket.” His low chuckle, followed by a drag of smoke was not helpful, and neither were his words, but your position was just too funny.

“I believe this is where you’re s’posed to be helpin’ me,” you replied, a fiery bite in your words. You’d been learning to warm up to people’s teasing, although it was still a long road to go. 

He stood to his feet from where he lounged by a tree, coming up beside you to kick your foot out a little. “Can’t stand like a tree, kid… you’ll tip over in the wind.”

"I ain't a kid," you mumbled, trying not to let him hear your annoyance to something so trivial... you just couldn't help it. People called you kid when they were trying to rile you up, trying to get you to shoot at them. It hadn't ever been used as an endearment before.

"How old are you, anyway?" He asked with a laugh, getting closer to you while he reached to adjust the gun.

"Twenty-Two..."

He let out a small 'huh' before focusing back to the task at hand. He realizes he's only eight years your senior, not twelve. He pulled the butt of the gun into your shoulder, making sure you wouldn’t give out when the gun fired. 

“Alright, the shootin’ part should be easy for you. Just hold strong, that thing’s gonna kick back a hell of a lot more than any handgun.” 

You pulled back the bolt, raising the barrel until you could aim properly. The glass bottle on the tree branch down the way looked like an easy enough target, but when you fired, you weren’t ready for how much pressure the gun would push on you, and you stumbled back into Arthur. 

“Mind your step, will ya?” he teased yet again, and it took everything in you to just ready your stance and try again without saying a word. 

You took a deep breath, pulling back on the bolt once more. You had a good idea as to how much you needed to push back this time. Finding the bottle again, you pulled the trigger, closing your eyes at the explosion and faintly hearing the sound of broken glass in the distance. 

“I did alright,” you turned to Arthur, a narrow gaze in his eyes as he looked from you then back to the tree. It was quite a distance away, and he was surprised you’d hit so accurately already. Then again, you were kind of known for your accuracy… but you’d never fired a rifle.

“Yeah, more than alright,” he reasoned, taking the gun from you and turning to take a shot for himself. “Now ya just gotta work on speed. This ain’t nothing you can keep on your hip.”

He fired one round after another, each bullet hitting the same branch on a tree until it fell from the trunk completely. Wow. 

He smirked over his shoulder, and your face probably gave him an even better reason to be smug. You were clearly in awe of almost everything this man did. Taking care of his horse? In awe. Carrying supplies from the wagon into camp without having to make several trips? In awe. Even now, his accuracy and reaction time. He was so skilled, and you wondered if you’d ever match him. 

“Now,” he said, setting the rifle by the tree. “I don’t just go about teachin’ folk how to shoot for free.”

“But Dutch said that-”

“I know what Dutch said,” he nodded, approaching closer and crossing his arms. “I still expect something in return for my services.”

You scoffed. “I ain’t got nothing you would want.”

“Sure, you do…” he trailed, standing right in front of you and reaching down towards your hip. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, even just having him this close to you. When his hand met your gun, pulling it away from its holster, you relaxed just a bit more. “How is it you shoot so fast?” 

Honestly, you didn’t have a clue. Everything you did to get faster, you’re sure he’s already done, and a million times over. 

“Nerves, mostly. My hands start shakin’ whenever I get a challenger, they start itching to shoot real bad… guess that’s why.”

He nodded, but was unsatisfied. Your answer was vague and unconvincing.

“What’d you do to learn? You obviously ain’t shot another gun but this one here, tell me how it came along,” he raised the pistol in the air, his skillful hands spinning it over a finger with ease. 

“I guess s’a long story.”

“And since you learned your way around a rifle so well, we got nothin’ but time.”

You sighed, stepping into the shade of the tree closest to you. You leaned into it, crossing your arms and watching as he continued to handle your closest ally in his steady hands. 

How do you even start this story? How does it even get told? You’d never uttered a word about your past to a single person since it all unraveled. You weren’t sure he’d stick around to hear it all, or maybe if he did, he would think you to be foolish. 

But this Arthur Morgan, with his tough exterior and gruff voice had a soft spot. He was gentle when need be, kinder than most. You suppose he derives it from Hosea, given that the man practically raised him into manhood. 

“You know, I used to be a little rich girl,” you chuckled, watching for his reaction. It was surprising to him, but he waited, almost as if thinking you’d retract it as a joke. “Yeah… lived on a big orange grove in South Carolina.”

“You’re kiddin’ me,” he let out when he realized you weren’t messing around. 

“Had a rich daddy and a rich mama. My entire lineage has gotta be worth a couple million at least.”

“Then why on earth are you here? You’d have to be crazy to leave that behind,” he gripped your pistol tightly now, his entire stance leaning on his left leg as he narrowly watched you lounging against the tree. 

“Oh, I had a good reason,” you scoffed with wide eyes. 

“Good enough to leave behind a family fortune?” 

He’s a man. Every man you’ve ever met is the same. They pay no mind to you anymore because you look like one of them now. But before? It was practically a brawl at every public event you attended. You hope that Arthur does not prove to be like the rest. You’ve already been so sure that he stands out, it'll break your heart if you were wrong.

“I know it may not seem like it, but I used to be quite the stunner. I attracted quite a few suitors.”

He nodded, looking you up and down in one glance before coughing a bit and averting his eyes. You hid yourself well, but if he tried hard enough, he could imagine how you would look in more feminine apparel. He liked what he was imagining. 

“I don’t doubt it…”

“Well, my dad was in control of who would have my hand, and as you can imagine I wasn’t fond of that fact… He picked one of his old pals from Virginia, another big farmer like himself, wealthy beyond belief and probably thirty five years my senior.”

Arthur was still, blinking a few times. He doesn’t understand. Yes, you would have had to marry someone you were not interested in… but the situation seemed ideal otherwise. 

“You would have been well taken care of, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh sure,” you nodded, but there was a smirk on your lips. “I would have been just dandy until he found a reason to kill me like he did his first two wives. My father never believed the accusations, of course, and the evidence had been conveniently destroyed… but I knew better.”

He let out a low whistle, finally looking back to your gun and wondering if its origins were about to come to light. Yeah, he thought. That’s a pretty damn good reason.

“So you ran off?” 

You gave a small nod, remembering the last time you ever saw your home and family.

“When I was eighteen I was shipped off to Virginia with a caravan, but before I could be delivered to old Thomas Arlington’s doorstep, I hid overnight in a stable. I stole a horse and headed west a bit.”

“How far west?” 

“West Virginia,” you chuckled. “I got to lurk around there a while, I started dressing all boyish and helped a travelin’ musician with his shows. After he settled down I found that very gun on the ground of a saloon. No one ever claimed her, so I polished her up and started practicing draws. I got pretty good, made bets on shootin’ games to get by.”

“You just… picked her up and started shootin’?”

“It sounds real dull when you put it that way,” you laughed, holding your hand out to take the gun back. You’re not an expert with this thing, can’t even spin it half as well or efficiently as he does… but you might be the best in the world at drawing it from your holster. “I’d never shot anyone before, until one man got real upset that he lost a shooting game to me. It was my first duel… and I won. All because of a game. It was that can game we played after I got here.”

“I figured as much. I ain’t never believed anyone could shoot faster than me until I saw you that day. Paid close attention to those bullet holes.”

He was being far too kind. It’s not like you were anything like him. He had it all. Strength, skill, wits, and as you learned with every glance, the looks to kill.

“I ain’t any good besides the one shot I know how to take.” Your confession meant more to him than you realized.

Yeah, he thought. You can draw, but before today you’d never shot a rifle. You’d never used a knife. Likely never robbed a bank or a stage coach or anything of that sort. Aside from duels, you’re clean cut and inexperienced… your nickname holds far more weight than he’s sure you can actually hold. Ruthless killer? More like a hustler with a bit of blood dusting your fingers. You haven’t made any ground compared to him, yet you’re the one they know far and wide. 

“Let’s make a deal,” he started, his steps carrying him quite close to your form, nearly hovering over you. “I’m gonna make you one of us. Teach you everything you need to know. Fightin’, stealin’, sneakin’ round… all of it. And in return, you’re gonna teach me how to shoot faster than you.”

He knows it’s built on a prideful notion, but he reckons you don’t care, because he’s offering you far more than you can give him. Obviously you agree, because even if you try to teach him, you are almost positive that you don’t even know the secret to your speed.

“Alright, cowboy… I’ll shake on it.”

And you do, squeezing his hand tightly.

-

You find yourself settling into the camp a lot easier than the weeks before. The names of the people here just roll off your tongue... whenever you see them, a greeting is spoken. You’ve also been able to sleep soundly in your tent despite the fears of the animal sounds out in the distance. You’ve come to realize that you aren’t alone in the wilderness, and you have a sort of family to keep you safe, now. 

Arthur continues to show you the ropes, giving you tricks and quick witted thoughts for situations you would never have thought to put yourself in. They all are illegal situations, of course, but you listen intently, and learn each step with an absorbent state of mind. 

Even if he doesn’t outwardly show it, you think Dutch is happy about your progress, given that you are not only an asset to future jobs, but also because you seem to blend well with everyone. He definitely views his gang as a family of fugitives, and now that you’re one of them, he’s become warm with you, even calls you ‘son.’ 

There is one member of camp that to date, you haven’t gotten into conversation with. Hosea Matthews. The man seemed to be the fatherly type, and nearly everyone in the gang had a sort of paternal view of him in some way. You reckon Arthur has taken the man to be closer to him than actual blood. The great Mr. Morgan doesn’t often share details of his past, but you’ve heard here and there about the rascal that was his father, dead and gone when Arthur was a kid, but not soon enough. 

It was a Tuesday morning, after a round of stale coffee when he first sat down beside you for a friendly chat. You couldn't have possibly known the contents of the topics he had in mind, but you were about to be bombarded with them in the most gentle way you reckon a man can speak. 

“Mister Gunslinger,” he began, a gentle clap on your shoulder to garner your attention. “I’ve heard you’re getting to be the best man at camp.”

His friendly chuckle eased your nerves, but you brushed off his words anyway. 

“Not sure ‘bout that. Just learnin’ the ropes,” you nodded along to your own words, hoping they caught well with him. 

“Arthur told me you picked up a rifle for the first time a few days ago and blew him out of the water,” he mentioned, the tone in his voice suggesting he wanted his compliment to land. 

“He’s bein’ far kinder than I deserve,'' you scoffed, shaking your head this time. “Nearly took my shoulder out of socket on the first shot.”

“But you broke a bottle on the second,” he returned, likely quoting your dear mentor’s own words. “How did you learn to shoot that pistol of yours, anyhow?”  

Hosea knew everyone’s stories. He was the father of the camp, albeit not the leader. He knew everything about everyone, and he took care of them. You took one look at him and decided you could trust him from day one… but that didn’t mean he should know everything.

“Well, I found this gun a while ago, just started shootin’ it till I hit somethin’.”

He leaned forward in his seat, another chuckle rolling off his tongue, but the question went unanswered in the way he’d hoped for. He took a breath, turning to face you a bit more… He decided to be straight with you. 

“I’m sure you’ve probably got things in your past you’re not too proud of. I’ve heard the name ‘Texas Red’ in quite a few towns now. I guess I’m just curious about what you did before the gunslinging days.”

“Oh…” you trailed, completely unsure if elaborating on your past, even without context, could force you to accidentally spill something you didn’t intend to. So you took the safe route. “Not much to tell. Ran away from home, stole a horse and headed west. Found this gun in an old saloon and the rest is history.”

He saw through the act, but didn’t let on. He didn’t want you to feel like you needed to hide things, but similarly, he didn’t want you to feel pressured to talk. This camp was a safe place. As long as you kept to the rules and helped out, you didn’t need to do anything else. You could just live freely and have your being. 

“Listen, son… I know it’s probably hard to open up about things you’ve gone and left in the past. Every person here has a story, somewhere they came from or something they did. If you ever want to talk about yours, I’m always chipper for good conversation.”

You looked into his eyes, and they were full of contrition, full of compassion. You guessed there wasn’t a bad bone in this man’s body. 

“Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”

He nodded once before standing up and heading down to the river bank, likely to fish. 

You wonder if he has suspicion of you, or if he knows more already than he’s leading onto. But then you think, no. He’s just a kind older man that actually gives a damn about the younger folks here. He didn’t seem to have any biological sons or daughters, but this camp was full of family he could call his own.

You were starting to call them family, too.

-

(tags are open)

[hhughes]

and when daisy cancels on him friday night, and he sees that she went to quinn’s game instead with their group of friends, he decided to take trevor up on that offer.

Damn that was kinda mean of Daisy

she was planning on going to jack’s game, she really was. but then all her friends was going to quinn’s game, and he asked her to come and she just couldn’t say no.

she really didn’t think jack would be that upset about it and she could always try to go and watch another one of his games! but he was really upset . . .

he watched the stands for her the whole night. she could’ve at least texted him. and jack makes sure she knows he’s upset too. doesn’t smile at her in the hallways at school. doesn’t bother greeting her when she’s at their house to see quinn. just kinda seems very uninterested until daisy addresses it one day.

he was already in the kitchen when she came down from quinn’s room to grab a drink. and when jack sees her entering, he immediately moves to leave but she stops him before he can.

“can we talk for a sec?” daisy asks, a hand on jack’s arm to halt him and jack resists the urge to lean into her touch more, trying to remember why he was upset with her

“is there any point in talking when I can’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth,” jack snaps, and feels immediately bad for it when she flinches a little

“okay, I deserve that. jack I really am sorry,” daisy says and jack clenches his jaw slightly

“when you say you’re gonna do something, do it. and if you change your mind or something comes up at least have the decency to text someone and let them know,” jack mumbles leaning on the kitchen counter and daisy sighs, moving her hand up to his shoulder and jack gets funny feeling in his chest when her thumb moves back and forth across the fabric of his T-shirt.

“you’re right. what I did was really rude but I promise I didn’t do it on purpose. I wasn’t planning on going to quinn’s game but something came up and I really had to go to that game. and I totally forgot that I had promised you I would go to yours. which is my fault 100% and I’m really sorry I bailed on you and didn’t text, it totally slipped my mind. which isn’t an excuse, I know I messed up okay? and I really am sorry. And I’m also sorry it’s taken me like a week to apologize. to be fair you have ran away from me every time I’ve wanted to,” daisy says and jack huffs

“I wasn’t running away,” jack mumbles in protest but daisy just sends him a look

“the point is i’m sorry okay? I don’t want you to be mad at me,” daisy says and jack sends her a soft smile

“I’m not mad anymore dais. I honestly forgave you already. I just had a bad day and it’s making me more irritated than usual, sorry,” he admits a little shyly and daisy squeezes his shoulder gently

“s’okay, we all have bad days. anything you wanna talk about?” daisy asks and jack sighs

“not really, it’s just hockey stuff,” jack says and daisy knows he’s not gonna talk about it with her, but even if he did, she wouldn’t be able to relate so she probably wouldn’t be of much use anyway, but there was someone else who could help.

“you should talk to Quinny about it,” she says

“I don’t know, he has a lot going on too. I don’t wanna add more things to his plate,” jack says and daisy smiles, finding him endearing

“Quinn is such an older sibling. he loves taking care of other people, especially those he loves. I bet you he’d love being able to give you advice. and he just so happens to be pretty decent at it,” daisy says, and jack just nods, acknowledging he heard what she said, but not committing to doing it. which was fine. daisy wasn’t one to push, which was one of the things he loved about her. liked about her.

“so we’re good?” daisy asks one more time

“yeah dais, we’re good,” jack says and laughs softly when she kisses him on the cheek

“perfect. I know you’re about to make yourself a ham and cheese toastie, make me one? I’d love you forever,” she teases, and makes her way back up the stairs before jack could respond

if only it was that easy, he’d make her all the ham and cheese toasties she wants.

[keilentine]

ARMAGEDDON ‘cause i wanna see, i wanna see truly

━━━ " act one,     armageddon            armageddon 또 어둠을 몰아내고. 시작을 꽃피운 너와 나의 story. 더 완벽해진 우리 ( armageddon ). 정의해 이젠 나만의   AESPA

sickness MASTERLIST

‘reader speaking telepathically’ , thoughts’ , “talking”

‘this is my highschool, PK academy. five hundred, forty-two kids walk these shallow halls’

everyone stood close in the school’s gymnasium, listening to their principal’s speech. not too much to be cramped but not enough to stretch. being that close meant ( yn ) could hear everyone’s mind, the principal would not shut up’ one thought

‘despite the schools relatively small size, no one knows about my powers. if they did, all hell would break lose’

‘back when i was in kindergarten, i was undefeated in rock-paper-scissors. which shouldn’t surprise you since you know i can hear people’s thoughts. some kids would cheat so id just tie them so they’d never win.

in lawless kindergarten, all battles are fought with rock-paper-scissors’

“okay, ( yn )! let’s play rock-paper-scissors, if i win you have to share your treat with the other students” her old teacher smiled

‘even against a teacher, i always won’

“best of three!”

“.. uhh best of nine?”

“tradition says teachers just need to win once, right?!”

“let me show you. here goes rock!” the teacher attempted to punch ( yn ), getting tired of losing. yet she dodged with teleportation

‘after that, she disappeared from the school entirely. i followed up that incident with even more success. and it took a while for things to finally die down’

‘so i learned it’s best to stop using my powers in public. now i only do when its absolutely necessary and when im sure no one else is looking.

and the way i do that is to use my telepathy. within two hundred meters i can sense anyone’

“guess who!” a pair of hands made their way up ( yn )‘s eyes, covering them

‘well, that used to be the case. one guy my powers always fail to spot’

“hey there, buddy!” yuuji itadori revealed himself

‘that doesn’t bother me. what does bother me is the fact that no matter how hard i try, i can’t read this guys thoughts. and believe me everyone has thoughts i can read

like this guy, i don’t wanna go to the dentist’

or this guy, momomomo nose hair momomo’

i can even read the minds of animals. but when it comes to itadori, forget it’

‘i finally figured out why that is. itadoris a total idiot. you can’t read a mind if there’s nothing on it’

“what is this old guy even talking about” itadori questioned. suddenly a loud thud was heard coming from a student in front of them, “he passed out!” a student yelled. “low blood sugar?” another one commented. causing itadori to shout in panic, seeing his friend on the ground, “ahh! what happened, buddy!” running to the body, swinging it side to side

‘he’s not a bad person at least. i mean i don’t think so’

itadori watched how the body still hadn’t woken up and to fix it, he decided to give mouth-to-mouth

‘okay i take it back, he’s evil’

“itadori! what do you think you’re doing? take him to the nurse” a staff came after hearing all the commotion. itadori parted away his lips responding, “the nurse? oh, right!” he carried the body

“ikari, why won’t you go with the two of them? i don’t trust itadori to find it”

‘..damn it’

━━━

they arrived at the nurses office. ( yn ) standing beside itadori holding the ‘unconscious’ body with the nurse nowhere in sight, “huh? is the nurse dead too? that’s weird” itadori looked for the attendant, “guess i’ll have to do mouth-to-mouth on you myself” he looked down to the raven-haired he carried

‘please don’t’

the supposed passed out body then shoved itadori down to the ground, “i don’t need mouth-to-mouth, you stupid idiot!” fushiguro washed his mouth rapidly with water from the nearby sink

“you’re better. well that’s nice to see—

“of course im better, i was faking” he kept puking. “was it worth it? though i got kissed by you” he glared at itadori. “if it makes you feel better, megumi, im sad too. you were my first kiss” he shared empathy

‘you’re only making it worse, itadori’

now everyone’s going to think itadori and i are inlove’ cried fushiguro with a disappointed look, sitting with his knees to his chest

‘i absolutely guarantee no one is thinking that’

“hey, you better not tell anyone my fainting spell was a fake” i can’t count that as my first kiss, right?! that was terrible!’ fushiguro turned to ( yn ), “don’t tell anyone.”

‘don’t tell what? that you faked being sick? or that now i know you shared your first kiss with itadori’

‘if it’s the sick thing, you’re too late’

“i heard it all!” their gym teacher stood on the outside of the nurses office. “gojo!” panicked fushiguro from his presence. “so, your fainting was a con job, huh?”

crap! it’s gym teacher gojo!’ sweat dropped fushiguro, “that’s not what happened sir! it’s his fault” he pointed straight at itadori, “he forced me to collapse so he could skip out on the principals speech! and my sickness is actually a roos” he cried out

the teacher turned to the boy in front of him, “itadori, is that all true?” yelling to confirm. “wha—”

‘blaming this on itadori isn’t a half bad idea’

“huh.. ikari, what are you doing here?” the teacher questioned. ‘what?’

“fushiguro, is she also apart of this?” gojo held onto megumis collar. “who? uhh, yeah sure” he shrugged. his answer causing the teacher to burst, “that’s it! i want you both in my office!”

‘dragging me into this is a bad idea’

itadori interrupted, “hold on a sec, teach!” catching the attention of all three. “his fainting was real. didn’t you just hear him say it ‘root sickness’” he said with all seriousness

‘holy crap he’s dumb. how can anyone mistake roos for roots’

“what? isn’t that right?”

what in the holy heck? what’s root sickness?’ gojo asked himself, “root sickness is a deadly virus that infects the victim to its follicles.. oh! that one”

‘he’s dumb too’

itadori took a clean thermometer, “let’s take your temperature to see if you have a fever. that’s what my mom always does for me” he suggested. cmon dude i don’t have a fever. im not even sick!’ panicked megumi

“..92.8*C” itadori read out loud

“..huh”

“call an ambulance, now!” shouted their teacher. the paramedics getting their under a minute, taking fushiguro in their gurney. along side him stayed itadori & their teacher

‘pyrokinesis. my ability to manipulate fire. oops, i melted the tip. better hide the evidence’

( yn ) melted the thermometer, lighting it on fire between her hands. a sudden noise startling her. “ahh..” itadori had came back

‘he saw!’

“you.. have a fever too?!”

the medics dragged ( yn ) out with the gurney. “you can beat this thing man!” encouraged the pink-head

‘like i said, itadoris an idiot’

[crazyk-imagine]

Bartender, I did it this Time

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x Bartender!reader

Characters: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia, Bartender!reader, Natasha "Phoenix" Trace, Penny Benjamin, Robert "Bob" Floyd, Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Reuben "Payback" Fitch

Warnings: Fluff, Mickey is a emotional drunk, such a simp, Jake is lit in here, instead of saying plain coffee, I wanted to make it fun and change it up, Nat can't keep her mouth shut, Bob is a himbo in my mind for this but it doesn't, reader always liked Mickey, Bob is wingman material, Bob and Nat are my gossiping hens

Word Count: 963

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

"I'm going to marry her," he says, fawning over you again.

"Is he talkin' 'bout the bartender, again?" Jake asks, his words lightly slurring.

"Yep," Reuben sighs. Already knowing he's going to be hearing more about you later, as usual. "When isn't he?"

"I'm offended but- she's coming over. Act natural." His natural is placing his head on his closed fist, staring out the window like he's a statue.

Everyone shakes their heads.

You stop in front of them, grabbing their empty glasses. “Everyone, okay? Does anyone want-”

“You?”

You glance at him through your lashes, staring at him with a deadpan expression before turning towards the soberest of the group, “Bob?”

He nods, wiping his hands. “What’s up?”

“Take him home first.”

He sheepishly smiles, “okay.”

You walk away, cleaning the dirty cups and snack bowls as you and Penny shut things down.

Your boss and well-known friend makes her way towards you, “how’d it go?”

“How’d what go?”

“You know.”

You shake your head, “nothing’s going to happen so you might as well kill the little fantasy you have in your head.”

“That boy is so into you; he can barely see straight.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” You turn around to wipe down the counters and catch Mickey looking like a baby deer.

“I didn’t mean it literally, but this makes things better.”

“Penny.”

She raises her hands, “not now, got it. I’ll just be-”

He stumbles to the bar, slamming his hands down to keep himself balanced. “Woah there, sailor.”

He pouts, “I’m not a sailor.”

You crack a smile, “I know, flyboy. I’m just messing with you.” You glance over his shoulder, “where’s Bob?”

“He took everyone home.”

“Did he forget you?” You groan, pulling out your phone. “Bob, I swear to-”

“I told him to go.”

You pause your angry texting and glance at him, “what?”

“I wanted to stay, wait until you went home.”

“Wh- why would you do that?”

He shrugs, closing his eyes, reminding you of a tired puppy. “I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

“Damn, softy,” you mumble to yourself. You tap his hand, “come on, I’ll take you back to base.”

He shakes his head, “I don’t want to go back.”

You close the door, turning your head to face him. “Where do you want to go?”

“Home.”

You nod, turning on your ignition. “Right, so to your base.”

“No,” he reaches over for your hand. “With you.”

You blink, opening your mouth to respond when you notice he fell asleep.

You can’t fight the small smile that tugs at the corner of your lips.

-

You sit on the couch, waiting for him to wake up and see what he remembers.

He stops at the entrance, scratching the back of his head, eyes widening at the sight of you curled up on the couch sipping your chai latte.

You look away from the tv and find him there, you offer a smile and pat the open spot beside you.

He slowly takes a step towards you, “what- uh- what happened last night?”

“You don’t remember?” You ask, playing dumb.

He scoffs, “of course I… remember.”

“What did you tell me last night?”

He stands still, thinking back to last night.

“You had a few drinks.”

He nods, he does remember that.

“Then you had a few more.”

“That’s where things get a little hazy for me.”

“What does home mean to you?”

“Home?” He furrows his brows before his eyes widen. “I didn’t, did I?”

You nod, the smile never leaving your face as you stand up. “You did, you definitely did and, I’ll admit, it did throw me for a loop but a good one.”

His face scrunches in confusion. “It did?”

You cross your arms as you stand in front of him, bending down as you stare into his eyes. “You basically called me your home, words of a poet and a romantic.”

“I sounded like a poet?”

“Are you surprised?”

He nods, “does it sound like I’m being confident?”

You cup his cheeks and lean in, leaving room for him to lean in or pull back.

“What’s happening?”

“Something,” you glance down at his lips, “that should have happened a while ago.”

You raise your gaze to find his adorable chocolate-y eyes light up in delight. “I’m leaving the next part up to you, kiss me or don’t, it’s your choice what-”

You can’t finish your sentence because he’s already made his choice.

His hands slowly make their way to your hips, he pulls you closer.

You nearly melt in his grip and have to hold yourself together enough to pull back.

You chuckle under your breath and brush your fingers against your lips. “That- you didn’t let me finish.”

The corner of his lips curved upwards into a smirk. “I didn’t need to; I knew what you were going to say.”

“Cheeky, very cheeky.”

“Only for you, mi corazón.”

Natasha bursts through your front door, “where’s the coffee?”

“Good morning to you too, cranky pants.”

“No.” She pulls back from the kitchen and makes her way towards you. “Oh, good. You two finally got together. Bob!”

“Yeah?” He calls out from the driveway.

“They did it!”

“Oh my god.” You chuckle, “no we did not.”

“Oh," she turns around to yell over her shoulder. "They haven't done it yet but they’re together!”

“Finally!”

Mickey shakes his head, gesturing for her to stop.

“Seriously?” She asks.

He shrugs and pulls himself closer to you, “would you want to-”

“Yes.”

He chuckles, “now who’s not letting me finish?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“That- that is very true.”

“Okay, now they’re gonna do it,” she whispers to Bob.

“Shut up,” you tell her, the smile never leaving your face.  

-

Tag list

@kmc1989 @blueoorchid @chickensrule

[black-fairy3]

not to be that girl but, respectfully, i would not have killed him…i mean look at the way he looking at her🫣