#he doesn't have the black arm band things

[buckyalpine]

A thot. A smutty, slutty, scandalous thot. With Bodyguard Bucky. Possessiveness, size kink, breeding kink, all of it. Now, imagine being the sweet, quiet, beautiful wife of the esteemed John Walker, CEO of Walker Industries. You sit at his table, clapping with the proudest smile on your face as he accepts an award for another successful year. Your husband dedicates all his success to the beautiful woman who has supported him through all the ups and downs, who has been by his side through it all.

You.

You blow a shy kiss in his direction when the cameras pan over to you, giggling at the wink he throws back. The press will have a field day about the most envied couple in the world, so perfect and so in love. As the night nears its end, your husband gives your hand a squeeze from where he sits beside you, leaning over to whisper in your ear.

"Going to have to stop by office darling, one our major investors just called" He kisses your cheek affectionately with an apologetic look on his face but the understanding smile you give him back lets him know you're not the least bit upset.

"Of course, I'll miss you" You reply and take a sip from your champagne, appearing oblivious to the glances that are thrown your way by the others as your husband leaves without you, his secretary following closely behind him.

All the hushed whispers.

Poor woman has no idea.

All the secrets.

Just a pretty thing on his arm, probably doesn't have a clue.

Doesn't have a clue her husband has been carrying on with his secretary late into the nights and all through out his business trips.

Such a shame she's none the wiser. Has no one thought to tell her? Pity she's genuinely so in love with him.

Truly such a shame, wasn't it?

Such a shame your husband had no idea your bodyguard fucked your brains out till he busted balls deep in side you every chance he got.

Bucky doesn't say a word as he leads you out of the venue, his arm wrapped protectively around your waist, helping you into the car. As soon as he slipped in beside you, you rolled up the dark partition before slinking onto his lap and slamming your lips against his. Bucky groaned against your lips, his hands finding their way home to grope and spank your ass, guiding your hips to grind down on his erection straining against his black pants.

"Need me to take care of you, huh princess" He murmured against the shell of your ear before going back to lacing his tongue with yours causing a shiver to run down your spine, nipping his pouty lip and grasping onto the lapels of his blazer.

No time was wasted as you straightened yourself out upon entering your home, quickly dismissing the staff to leave for the night, giving you free reign to do as you pleased.

As soon as the house was empty, he tossed you over his shoulder, striding up the stairs and straight to the master bedroom. He dropped you onto your large bed, tearing your dress in half down the middle, letting the material fall away at your feet.

"Fuck this" He grabbed your left hand, tugging off the wedding band you wore for appearances and tossing it carelessly across the room. He took off the silver tog tags that hung around his neck, slipping them over your head and letting his name sit perfectly between your breasts, the sight making him feral.

"Didn't even bother with panties" Bucky licked his lips at the sight of your bare naked body, not even a tiny sliver of lace covering your modesty. "You knew, didn't you"

"Always" You purred, knowing damn well your husband would fuck off to bang his desperate little secretary, unknowingly also giving you the night of your life you so badly craved. You crawled to the middle of the bed, your legs spread while Bucky tossed his blazer and shirt off, his pants and brief's quick to follow.

"Lookit you baby, so naughty, fuckin' your bodyguard in the same bed your husband sleeps in"

You let out a needy whimper while he stayed at the edge of the bed enjoying the view, his hand coming down to wrap around his cock giving himself long, languid strokes.

"James, please" you pleaded with a pout but Bucky just smirked in return, hissing as he swiped his thumb over the wet slit of his cockhead.

"I know prinţesă, I know, let me look at how pretty you are" He cooed, joining you on the bed and slotting himself between your legs. You wrapped your arms around his thick shoulders while he let his cock slip between your folds, rolling his hips to hump against your bare cunt. "You're soaked angel, been waiting for this, hm?"

"Wanted you so bad, need you James" Your hips bucked up, chasing the feeling of his fat cock rubbing against you, his swollen cockhead bumping your clit every time he pushed forward. "No teasing, please, missed your cock so bad"

"Shhh, you have me baby, m'right here, yeah?" Bucky kissed away the tears that started to slip down your cheeks, your arousal smearing all over his balls. He guided his dripping cockhead to press against your clit making you cry out, circling his most sensitive parts against yours, "M'right here, feel that angel? Y'feel how wet m'getting for you baby, right on that pretty clit, such a good girl letting me jus' leak all over her slutty little pussy, fuck theres so much precum 'nd m'not even inside you yet"

You'd never felt more empty, clawing at Bucky's back, your pussy fluttering and clenching over the way his silky tip kept tracing circles around your throbbing, sensitive bud. He flicked his cockhead across your clit a few times before lining himself up with your entrance.

"S'fuckin' tight, sh-shit" Bucky moaned as he started to press into you, sliding all the way home in one swift motion. He stayed still, holding your body close to his while your legs wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his ass, begging for him to do something.

"Move Jamie, please, c'mon, fuck me damn it, I need you, I need- FUCCKK" Your words slurred into sobs as Bucky started to fuck you hard and fast, already too needy with having to get a night alone with you.

"Needed me huh angel? fuckin' needed you too, s'all I think about pretty girl, just me n' you, how-oh fuck- how are you so tight around my cock" Bucky rambled, bringing his knee up to get a deeper angle, his hands coming to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress.

"Missed-fuck-missed you Jamie" You whimpered, your pussy squeezing and sucking his cock back in,

"My baby loves her fat cock, I know, know you're so empty when I can't fill you up sweet girl, you love your bodyguard's big dick don't you" The taunt in his voice only got you off more, your eyes rolling back as he continued to rail you. "You're pussy's choking me so tight, don't think I can hold back tonight princess, don't think I'll be able to pull out"

"Don't" you whispered and something in the air switched, the highly charged sexual tension replaced with something more desperate and needy as you clung onto each other reading closer and closer to your highs.

"Mmph, y'can't say that, gonna wet your bed with my cum prinţesă, you'd like that wouldn't you, my cum covering all your sheets, your pillows smelling like me, letting me fill you up till your belly gets all swollen"

Bucky's voice melted into a whine, his dominance faltering into something needier, quickly shoving the thought away because he knew there was no chance. It would never happen. You'd never be so careless for such an accident to happen.

"Want it Jamie, want it all with you, please, don't-fuck, oh God-don't pull out" Your glassy eyes wet with tears showed no signs of deception but it couldn't be. He searched your gaze and you could see the innocence in his face wishing this were real, the way his body moved with yours, wishing it was just you and him. "St-stopped taking birth control"

Bucky sobbed at your confession, fucking you harder, making the headboard slam against the wall with his powerful thrusts. His hips snapped , shoving his cock all the way into your pussy, his balls growing heavier at the thought of leaving a piece of him inside of your fertile womb.

"you're fuckin' mine, you hear me? Mine. Mine. Mine. Say it!" Bucky grunted, biting your neck making you scream, your back arching off the bed, pressing your chest further against his.

"M'yours, all yours, just' yours" You slurred out, eyes rolling back and your moans turning nearly silent as immense pleasure crept down your spine.

"Gonna put my baby in you, make you mine forever, fuck your husband, your gonna be the mother of my child, just you prinţesă, all you, ALL YOU" Bucky roared against your neck as he shot ropes of his cum deep in your pussy, giving you harsh, sloppy thrusts as he grew more sensitive. He wrapped his arms around your body with his face tucked into your neck, shuddering at the feeling of your soft hands caressing his back, running your fingers through his soft cropped locks.

You hardly noticed him carrying you over to his room down the hall, tucking you into the warm sheets, resting your head on his chest, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you" You murmured, smiling at the empty space on your ring finger and feeling the comforting coolness of his chain around your neck.

One day.

"I love you more, prinţesă" Bucky murmured, meaning every word as you both drifted off to sleep.

You couldn't wait to leave your husband.

a/n: This was meant to be way sluttier and less in the feels so might need to revisit this with a different version

[banj0possum]

Yoooo, what are you waiting for it's gangussy time 😡😡 😡😡😡😡

(This is a joke please please please take care of yourself first for the love of whoever is up there don't overwork yourself 🙏 )

Utmost Loyalty

Yan!Gang x GN Reader

no warnings that i know of, theyre just really really stupid

🐉 The grocery you usually go to was closed early for the day, poor you had to walk the 2 miles to the nearest store in order to buy the stuff you needed for the week.

🐉 Living alone was hard work. You worked an exhausting 9 to 5 job that barely provided for your tiny apartment and pet (and your endless merch of your favorite franchise)

🐉 You were already tired from working today, and now you have to walk an extra 2 miles to get groceries you may or may not be able to afford because you never went to said grocery store before??

🐉 The grocery was in a pretty sketchy part of the city, with the smell of car exhaust and cigarettes lingering everywhere that you had to cover your nose to evade the scent.

🐉 You quickly went in the store and breathed in deeply, thankfully the store didn't smell so bad.

🐉 Besides than you, there were only 2 other people, the store owner and someone in a black suit eating some instant noodles.

🐉 You went to work trying to find all the stuff you need on your list. Coffee, fruits and veggies, snacks, and maybe some chocolate as a treat for yourself~

🐉 You pay for your things, unfortunately unable to afford the chocolates, and leave the store.

🐉 aaaaand now its raining...

🐉 You rush to the nearest cover, trying to cover the paper bag full of your groceries before hearing labored breathing from the alley you passed.

🐉 You stop and look back to see a man hunched over, his back to the wall as he winced at a wound he had on his torso that stained his white buttoned up shirt. He looked to have come from a fight..

🐉 You gasp, almost dropping your groceries. His golden eyes dart over to you and glare at your meek form.

🐉 "What're you lookin at?" he growls.

🐉 "You're..bleeding- You're bleeding!!" You start to panic.

🐉 "Yeah no shit I'm bleeding! What the fuck do you want?!"

🐉 You scramble away from the man in the alley frightened and freaked out. Out of instinct, you return to the store and ask where the first aid items are.

🐉 Kagiri sighed, trying his best to hold on while waiting for his gang to arrive and help him out. He just had to be strong. He can get through this. He can do it! He doesn't need anyone!

🐉 "Sorry! I'm back!"

🐉 goddamnit..

🐉 He grumbles at your presence but then realizes you have two bags and not one like you had recently. You put down your groceries and take a few stuff out of the other bag. Band-Aids..gauze..sanitizer..what's going on??

🐉 "What are you doing?" He asks in a threatening voice.

🐉 You don't say anything, you focus on trying to patch up his wounds, asking him a few things once in a while like "can you lift your arm please?" or "unbutton your shirt a bit.."

🐉 And he let you..for some reason...

🐉 He went from growling to staring silently at you while you worked on bandaging his wounds, like a feral dog being pet for the first time.

🐉 Now he managed to get a good look at you. You were quite cute, and it looked like you just got off work from the attire you were wearing. Your hands were so soft compared to his calloused ones, and your eyes..one look from you and even the toughest mafia boss will melt from how comforting they are..

🐉 And before he knows it, you've finished and were apologizing profusely to him for butting in on his situation, he was gonna say something else but you ran off.

🐉 You finally arrive back at your apartment, your pet cat rubbing against you as you lock your door. You smile and pick her up about to ramble about the hectic day you had until you realize..

🐉 You picked up your cat..

🐉 Your hands were free prior..

🐉 YOU LEFT YOUR GROCERIES!!

🐉 Silence fills the room before you let out a pitiful sob. Scolding yourself for forgetting your groceries with that mysterious guy, all that money and fresh food wasted! Your cat tries to lick your face to calm you down.

🐉 You pace around the room trying to figure out what to do now until a knock on your door is heard.

🐉 You open the door but there was no one there, but you see two men hastily and quite loudly scramble their way down the stairs giggling like middle schoolers. Did two grown men really ding dong ditch you??

🐉 You sigh and go to close the door, but your cat meows and trots outside and you look down to see her paw at a bag full of groceries..what?!

🐉 All your groceries were there, plus some extra cans of food, wrapped onigiri..your chocolates? and it wasn't in a dull paper bag anymore, it was in a black tote bag with a gold insignia of a sea serpent.

🐉 You didn't dare question it, considering the looks of the man who helped you and the part of town you were in, he was likely part of some gang and wanted to thank you.

🐉 But it didn't stop there...

🐉 You felt like you were being watched every time you were outside..no, it wasn't a feeling, THEY WERE LITERALLY RIGHT OUT IN THE OPEN WATCHING YOU.

🐉 It didn't take a genius to spot them. You started noticing newcomers to the places you frequented. Like in a cafe that was fairly quiet and cozy, there were about 5 men dressed in blazers with some kind of flashy undershirt and gelled up hair at the very back of the establishment.

🐉 They didn't do a good job trying to hide the fact they were watching you with a newspaper.

🐉 It freaked you out, but you tried your best to ignore them.

🐉 But it was hard to do that when they started talking to you..

🐉 "Excuse me, you dropped your wallet.." you turn around and almost stumble over the tall intimidating man right behind you meekly handing you back your wallet.

🐉 You take it back with a shaky hand and waddle away trying not to look back.

🐉 If you did, you'd see the big burly man absolutely blushing and squealing as a few other men giddily walk up to him, showing a video of the encounter you just had from across the street.

🐉 There was also the time you caught them staring dreamily at you when they saw that you started using the tote bag with the serpect symbol as your office bag, it was a pretty nice bag and you didn't want it to just lie around your house..

🐉 And that one co-worker who's kind of a creep? Never messed with you again. You caught a glimpse of them shivering over the symbol on your bag.

🐉 Not to mention boxes of groceries that show up at your door all wrapped up in a red bow, they still haven't learned to be more silent when dropping those off..

🐉 After a bit you start to recognize some of them from their haircuts or the jewelry they always have on them. It made you more curious as to what their deal was.

🐉 So you decided to search up online with the insignia on the tote bag as your first clue.

🐉 You find out that its the symbol for a local gang that dealt with all kinds of stuff, robbery, misconduct, public damage..mostly public damage..

🐉 You manage to find a photo of all of them, you recognize the man in the center. It was the guy you saw in the alley way..

🐉 Connecting all the dots, you somehow got the protection of a gang because you patched up their wounded boss..great..

🐉 The next day you spot a few of the gang members again but instead of ignoring them, you give them a small wave before heading off the work. They were left stunned with a story to tell the others that'll make them squeal like little girls.

🐉 They started becoming less and less distant from you.

🐉 From watching you across the street to making small talk about the prices of fruits at the store.

🐉 One by one the gang gets a special moment with you, they were small mundane moments, but they treasured them like a core memory.

🐉 Word finally got to the boss that you've been very close with them lately, and he decides it's time to confront you.

🐉 As usual, a knock is heard at your door, and you see them clumsily run away, leaving a box of groceries behind..you should probably tell them you have a doorbell.

🐉 But it wasn't a box of groceries, it was full of heart shaped chocolates, sweet pink sweets and about 3 stuffed bears, topped up with a bouquet of flowers, as well as a note. You bring the box in and read small card.

🐉 Dear Mx. L/N, please go to this address tomorrow at 6pm. Don't be late. Please.

🐉 You can see words like 'We love you' and 'Have a nice evening' and 'we cant wait' messily scribbled out.

🐉 You arrive at the location at the designated time and look around.

🐉 The place they wrote in was a fancy looking restaurant that looked like the only thing you could afford was the water..

🐉 You're escorted to a table in a private room. You can hear the muffled noises of men giggling and talking before you enter and they all quiet down. It was quite intimidating to see them all in the same room, but the scariest part was seeing the boss; Kagiri, sitting in the center.

🐉 A little Siamese cat with big yellow eyes mewls at you and you pet it. It jumps up to you and purrs on your lap. Around his neck is a red collar with a gold nametag with the serpent symbol engraved on it, and on the back read 'Unagi'. You hear the men awe softly at the sight of the boss' cat getting along with their darling idol

🐉 Kagiri stands up and smiles at you warmly and by warmly I mean he looks terrifying

🐉 "It's nice to see you again. I never got to formally thank you for what you done to me." he lifts up his shirt a bit to reveal his healed wound which faded into a scar.

🐉 You nervously say you're welcome and shake his hand, you can't help but notice him shiver over your touch.

🐉 He invites you to sit down and eat and you spend the night having dinner and talking with the gang.

🐉 They try their best to impress you, sitting up straight, puffing out their chests, deepening their voices..

🐉 It almost seems like they were competing for your attention.

🐉 Once dinner was over, Kagiri speaks up "Now, about our meeting, we've been meaning to ask you something." he says gently.

🐉 The large man walks over to you and takes your hand and kneeling..what whats happening..

🐉 "Y/N L/N..will you be our new boss?" He asks passionately.

🐉 The gang cheers, pleading for you to say yes, it was like being confessed to by 7 grown men

🐉 "So? What will you say?" Kagiri asks, with eyes sparkling with hope and adoration.

🐉 The gang was kicked out of the establishment for making too loud and causing a disturbance..

🐉 Maybe you shouldn't have said yes..

its done guys, this is probably the most fun ive had writing a fic!! also there may be bonus content about the individual gang members if you guys are up for that ;3

[luvfy0dor]

“His Hands are in my Hair, His Clothes are in my Room ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Nikolais and Chuuyas are hardly proofread, Nikolais was rushed, Nikolais nearly got scrapped, I don't like Nikolais, maybe a little ooc

Description; sharing clothing w the BSD boys

A/n; GUYS OH MY GOD I GOT A 5 ON MY FIRST AP EXAM IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF AHHHHHH IM GONNA CRY also I'm sorry posts are so few and far between. It's so hot and hard to function. I know I said the exact same thing to excuse minimal posts in winter but like. its literally hot as balls and all I got is a puny ass 8yro fan and the occasional sip of iced water.

Osamu Dazai ★

• Dazai likes to take your old T-shirts to sleep in when you lend them to him for the night. After a few nights of having Dazai at your house, you wonder why your sleep-shirt collection has nearly cut in half.

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You unlocked the door of your apartment and pushed it open with your unoccupied hand. The other arm held a large brown paper bag filled with gas station food and snacks for you and your boyfriend, who followed you inside. Once you set the bag down on the coffee table, you retrieved your keys from the door and closed it. When you came back to the kitchen, Dazai had already dumped everything out and was sifting through all the options. "The walk back from the gas station was hardly five minutes and I've already forgotten everything we got." He says with a grin, opening a bag of chips and eating a couple. He offered you some, holding the bag out to you. "Want some?' He mumbled.

"Yeah, let me just change into pajamas first, I don't wanna do anything until I'm comfortable." You said, shrugging off your jacket and starting to undo your belt before you even make it back to your room. Dazai followed suit, bag of chips still in hand. "Can I borrow some?" You nodded before taking off your shirt and tossing it in the laundry hamper, going through your closet to find a shirt for your boyfriend and yourself. "Thank youuu~" He plops down onto your bed, keeping the chip bag upwards so he doesn't get any crumbs or dust on your nice blankets. He watches you pull one of your band shirts over your head, admiring your body from his position on your mattress. He's snapped out of his daze when black fabric comes flying at him, but he catches it before it can smack him in the face. "Thanks, babe, you're so kind."

He switches his work clothes for your old ones, the big shirt nearly swallowing his scrawny torso comfortably. "Alright, I want snacks, come on." You gesture for him to follow you back out to the kitchen where the array of snacks was waiting for the two of you on the counter. There were numerous kinds of chocolate, and Dazai had grabbed a couple bags of gummies for himself. There were a few more bags of chips for variety, and you scooped everything up in your arms to bring to the living room. You dropped them all on the coffee table and grabbed the remote. "Alright, what movie are we feeling?" You ask, turning to the brunette man. "Uhhhhh, how about an action movie. Somethin' that looks exciting." He says, slinging his arm over your shoulder while he munches on sour gummy worms. Eventually, the two of you decide on a Godzilla movie, slumped against the couch with chocolate residue on the tips of your fingers from your candies. Dazai let out a long sigh as the movie came to a close, leaning into you and resting his head on your shoulder.

You ran your fingers through Dazais messy and slightly greasy hair, scratching his scalp and listening to his pleased, quiet hum. "Are you falling asleep or are you up for another movie?" You ask him, watching the credits roll on the TV. "I'm up for another movie, I just think I might be having a sugar crash." He says, groaning as he sits back up. You nod and grab the remote again, browsing through all the film options. Every now and again, your eyes involuntarily flickered over to your boyfriend, and you couldnt help but smile. He looked really cute in your shirt, and it almost made you wanna treat the movie like chopped liver and cuddle up to him.

"You look really cute." You say, playing whatever movie you absent-mindedly started in your daze. "Oh, I know, right?" He grins running his hand over his body. "As a matter of fact, I've never felt sexier." He teases, moving his eyebrows up and down with a smirk. You can't help but laugh at him. "Let's get you on a playboy cover." Before you know it, he's standing up in front of the TV. "Scrap the movie, you have me for entertainment instead." He puts his hands on his hips and strikes a pose, making you laugh some more. "You want some attention? I mean, I guess since you asked so politely." You stand up with an eye roll and pull him in, kissing him and running a hand down his side. He keeps one hand on your chin, tilting your head to meet his lips, sighing quietly each time your lips part for a quick moment. Soon, you both need more air then small gasps and have to pull away. He smiles and messes with the fabric of your own shirt. "How about we ditch this mess for now and go to bed, yeah? We can continue comfortably there?" He offers, You glance back over at the piles of snacks, opened or not, scattered acrossed the floor. Normally you'd make him help you clean up before doing anything else, but tonight you really couldn't be bothered and just wanted to follow Dazai wherever he'd take you. "Alright, let's go."

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Everyone knows that Chuuya adores his hat, but not everyone knows he's got a decently sized collection of fancy hats on top of his closet. One day while rummaging around and trying to find one of Chuuyas button downs for him, you notice them all on the top rack.

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"Chuuya, you didn't tell me you had so many hats!" You called out to him, standing back and staring at them all. Chuuya was currently in the bathroom, shaving his peach fuzz to keep his smooth face. "Huh? Oh, yeah, I've got a ton." He calls back, washing the shaving cream off of his skin. "They're pretty..can I try some of 'em on?" You ask, reaching to grab the one on the top of the stack. "Go ahead." He walks out of the bathroom with his towel around his waist, leaning against the doorframe to watch the little fashion show you were about to put on. The first one you grabbed was adorned with flowers of various colors. You placed it on your head and turned around, posing with your hands on your hips.

"What do you think? Vogue worthy?" You ask him. He smiles at you and nods, his arms crossed over his chest. "One hundred percent, that's peak fashion." He says genuinely, standing up straight and walking over to the closet. He reaches up and grabs another hat for you to try, switching it out for the flowers one. This one is a dark, reddish brown color. "This one's cute too." You giggle and head over to the bathroom to see for yourself. "Ooo, I'm not sure this kinda hat is necessarily for me." You giggle. "What do you mean? It looks great on you!" He says, following you in and hugging you from behind. "You only say that because they're your hats." You say, grinning.

"I mean, I guess not everyone is destined to look good in them like me." He says, squeezing your hip. "I gotta actually get ready for work now, I'm probably runnin' late." He says, turning around and dropping his towel. He tossed it into the hamper before getting dressed in his usual attire, spotting the button down that you had forgotten about in favor of his hat collection. "Okayyyy." You yawn, stretching your arms over your head and treading through the bedroom to start your own morning routine. You didn't have to leave for another hour, but Chuuya had to get to work within the next 30 minutes. After brushing your teeth, you notice Chuuya searching the bedroom for his usual hat.

"The nightstand." You point out to him. He sees it and lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing it and plopping it on his head. "Thanks, doll. I gotta get going' now, but I'll see ya tonight, okay?" He says, pulling you in by your waist for his daily goodbye kiss. "Yeah, got it." You smile before kissing him sweetly for a quick moment before he backs away. "Alright, I love you, see ya later." He playfully smacks your ass before letting go of you and heading out to the door. "Bye Chuuya, I love you, I'll see you later!" Once you heard him leave, you smiled to yourself and headed right back to the closet. You didn't necessarily have to get dressed just yet, so that gave you some time to try on a couple more hats on your own.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor doesn't mind letting you borrow his cape if you seem cold, or he'll simply wrap it around you and pull you into his side. He prefers the latter, considering it doesn't take much for him to get chilly.

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Fyodor held your gloved hand in his as you both walked down the snowy streets of Yokohama. It was the winter solstice and you both decided to take a walk down one of the most popular roads and do some window shopping. By the end of the evening, the hand that wasn't occupied with holding Fyodors held a warm cup of hot chocolate that you sipped on periodically. "Have you enjoyed yourself tonight, Myshka?" He asks you, adjusting his ushanka and gazing up at the sky, noticing some snow start to fall. "I did. Thanks for coming with me, I know you have a lot of stuff to do." You respond, bringing the cup to your lips for another sip. He waves his hand dismissively. "That doesn't mean I can't accompany you." His thumb rubs over your knuckles as snow starts landing on his hat and your head, the street lamps illuminating the darkness with a tangerine-colored glow. You nod at his words, leaning into his shoulder and shivering.

"It's so cold, Fedya." You say, your head on his shoulder and your hand squeezing his tightly. He lets go in order to put his arm around your waist, pulling his long cape over your shoulder. "I know, the walk home isn't much further, don't worry." You smile and hold onto the old, worn material to keep it in place. "You're right, thanks." You say, feeling butterflies in your stomach. It never mattered how long you and Fyodor had been together, every affectionate action made you feel like you had just got together. He held you close with his cape still shielding you from the cold and adding a layer of warmth to your jacket. He would peer over at you every now and again, laughing under his breath at all the snow that was getting into your hair. "What's so funny?" You ask him, a smile spread acrossed your face. "You've got a whole bunch of snow on your head." He tells you. "It looks like dandruff."

You roll your eyes and yank the ushanka off of his head, placing it on yours instead. "There, now you won't have to look at it." You hold the fluffy hat on top of your head and try to prevent him from taking it back when he tugs on it. "No, you can get your own, my ears are cold." He says with a smile, eventually pulling it back into his own possession and patting it off. "I will say though, you look better in my hat than Dazai did." You give a proud smirk and rest your head on his shoulder. "I'd hope you'd think so." Your street comes into view and you pull him along as you speed up, wanting to get into the warm, cozy house as soon as possible. "I know running isn't exactly your thing but pick up the pace a little, I wanna get under the covers and cuddle." You tell him, getting closer to home with each passing second.

He picks up speed for you and listens to the sound of your feet hitting the pavement. It's not long before you've pulled him all the way home and you're unlocking the door, nearly spilling inside to get into the warm living room. Fyodor follows suit, unlacing his shoes and hanging up his cape and ushanka. You wait for him in the open doorway that connects the living room and the hallway, ready to curl up in bed away from the harsh cold. "Alright, I'm coming." He says, treading through the hall with you and opening the bedroom door. His hand rested on your lower back as you both walked to the comfortable mattress, crawling under the covers and pulling each other close. "Your cape is really warm and comfortable. You should wrap me in it more often." You say, scooching closer to him and letting his arm drape over your waist.

"Hmm, I guess that wouldn't hurt. You really like it?" He peers down at you, his head propped up on his fist. "Yeah, I might have to steal it, actually." You say seriously, making him click his tongue. "You're welcome to steal it if I'm not wearing it." He says, chewing on the inside of his cheek habitually. "Then expect it to be off the hanger more often then not." He smiles and presses a kiss to your forehead, laying his head down on the pillow. "Okay, that's fine, but right now you have me and the blanket to keep you warm." He murmurs, closing his eyes. "Well you're not contributing to that as much as the blanket, but whatever you say." You kiss his cheek and brush his bangs out of his face. "G'night Fedya, I love you." You say, resting your head on his chest, ready for sleep. "I love you too, y/n, sleep well."

Nikolai Gogol ★

• You always loved Nikolais outfit and couldn't help but wanna put it in one day. You were sure he wouldn't mind, after all, sharing attire was nothing foreign to your relationship.

ೃ⁀➷

It started with you trying on his blouse for fun, but then you decided the blouse wasn't complete without the vest, pants, gloves, collar, shoes, or hat. Everything fit you a little differently than it fit Nikolai, but it didn't matter, because when you walked over to the nearest reflective surface, you found yourself cute, and you almost couldn't wait for Nikolai to get out of the shower to show him. You just needed one more thing, his cape. You ran out to the coat rack by the door and swung it behind you and then over your shoulders excitedly, grabbing it by the edges and moving it around. You felt really fancy with his cape, swaying your body just to feel the fabric move with you. As a matter of fact, you were so caught up in how good the cape made you feel that you didn't even realize the bathroom door open.

"Oh, wow, dove! My outfit looks so good on you! I've never noticed how much the red gloves pop until now." You turned around so fast, as if you were sitting in silence and all of a sudden a full file cabinet tipped over and crashed onto a linoleum floor. "Wah-! When'd you get out? I mean, thank you, but you scared me!" You say with a nervous laugh. "I thought it looked cute." You murmur, starting to pull off the gloves, but he stops you. "Hey, wait, you should stay in it for a moment, I'm not done admiring you yet!" He tells you, walking over and grabbing your hands gently. He leans in to kiss you, his smile palpable on his lips. You hand falls on his shoulder, rubbing it up and down affectionately before pulling away. "You really like it that much, huh?"

He nods. "Ofcourse! Oh, I'd love to show everyone how wonderful you look. Would you let me?" He asks, squeezing your hands tightly. "Sure, Kolya, go ahead." He quickly skitters off to fetch his cellphone, returning with the camera app already open. "Pose." He says, watching you place your hands on your waist and cock your hip a little bit. "Ah, gorgeous." He says, spamming the capture button. "Okay, I think that's enough." He says, his cheeks a bit pinker than before. He tossed his phone onto one of the side tables and embraced you once again, resting his head on top of yours. "Come on, y/n, I'd like to see you in my whole wardrobe now!" He says excitedly, pulling you along back to the bedroom. You don't necessarily know what you ignited in him, but it was certainly something, and now you were preparing yourself for a god-knows-how-long fashion show for your boyfriend. Not that you really minded, ofcourse.

A/n; another post that was supposed to have sigma and then didn't have sigma because I wanted to watch Jersey shore instead of write. ALSO I WENT TO THE DENTIST YESTERDAY terrible experience I cried but don't tell anyone I said that

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Two

This AU got a lot more attention than I expected actually hfjdks I'm so glad everyone likes it!

Anyway, here's part two! We get some concert, some peeks at how Robin helps Steve navigate social situations, and a little Eddie having an itsy-bitsy crisis over Steve's fashion choices.

Have fun! And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't (especially for this one since I wrote most of it on my phone actually lmao)

----

Steve stares at the shirts laid out on his bed, arms crossed over his chest. Choosing jeans had been easy, but choosing a shirt is giving him trouble. What do you wear to a metal show at the local dive bar for a small-town band in which the lead singer is a long-time and way-out-of-your-league crush that you've been holding a candle for since the first time you saw him laugh on top of a cafeteria table?

You definitely don't show up in a plain black shirt, that's for sure.

The lights in the hall outside Steve's room flicker, switching off and on three times. Steve just barely notices, which means he doesn't get his pants scared off when Robin appears in the doorway, grinning at him while pocketing the key to the front door he'd given her months ago into a messenger bag. "Hey, dingus," she says, striding into the room and flopping onto the bed.

Steve rolls his eyes, yanking the shirts out from under her and laying them once more over Robin's stomach and legs. "What shirt should I wear?" he asks.

It takes a few seconds for Steve to look from the shirts to Robin, and she patiently waits until he's staring at her to say, "Just pick one. Nobody's gonna care what you're wearing."

"I care," Steve says, frowning as he looks back at the shirts. For the aforementioned crush reason, Steve cares very much about the shirt he wears. "What says 'Hi, we've never talked before but your music is the only thing I can hear and I think your hair is in desperate need of quality shampoo and also I've been halfway in love with you since, like, sophomore year'?"

Robin considers the question for a long moment before picking up a red sweater. "This one says 'I'm horny'," she offers.

Steve blinks, staring at the sweater for a few beats before laughing. "But I'm not," he says.

Despite looking at Robin, she happens to angle her head toward the sweater, and her response is lost on Steve. He frowns, waits until her jaw has stopped moving, and says, "I didn't get that."

After Robin first learned about Steve's deafness, he'd been overly anxious about asking her to repeat things. Somehow, it was worse to constantly ask when the person knew he couldn't hear well, if at all. But Robin had never shown annoyance; she'd just adjust her posture, make sure Steve could see her lips, and repeat her words. She does all of this now, and Steve gets to read her joking response, "Yeah, but you will be."

And, yeah, she has him there. Steve huffs and collapses onto the bed beside her, sacrificing the shirts. "I'll need a jacket," he says, turning his head to look at Robin so he can read her response.

Instead of words, though, he sees her face light up, and she jumps off the bed. Steve sits up, watching as she digs in her messenger bag before pulling out a t-shirt. "Remember when I stayed over a few weeks ago? And you let me borrow a shirt? You should wear it!"

Thankfully, Robin waits until she's done talking to throw the shirt in Steve's face. Honestly, he only understood a few words ("remember," "borrow," and "wear") but he's gathered enough context clues to get the gist of things.

He spreads the shirt out, humming at the Iron Maiden design. It's not one he wears often; for the most part, it's a shirt he wears on lazy days at home because of how soft it is. But as he's studying the design, Steve is suddenly hit with a stroke of pure genius.

He quickly changes into the shirt and then grabs a varsity jacket (not his letterman, but one he'd seen at the mall and bought on a whim because it used a nice shade of yellow) off his desk, tugging it on over the shirt but leaving it unbuttoned. After a few more seconds of digging around, he finds sneakers under the bed and tugs them on.

"Okay," he says, turning so Robin can see the outfit from every angle. He comes to a stop when he's facing her once more, hands buried in his jacket pockets, and asks, "What do you think? How's it look?"

"I think you'll give Eddie a crisis," Robin replies, wrinkling her nose at the varsity jacket. "Not, like, a bad one. But he'll probably ask where you got the shirt from."

Steve grins, thinking that sounds about perfect, and turns to study himself in the mirror. It's a surprisingly solid blend of metal and jock, and it makes him feel oddly confident, the same way he felt the first time he did his hair just right and everyone complimented it.

"Perfect," he decides. "Let's go."

----

The ride to the Hideout isn't exactly quiet, but it's not like Steve can talk and drive at the same time. So it's filled with music blasted as high as it can go on his car stereo, causing the whole vehicle to vibrate with each beat. When he finally turns the car off after parking, Robin grimaces as she rubs her ears.

She waits for Steve to be in front of her before saying, "We're putting the windows down next time."

"Oh. Sorry," Steve says, rubbing the back of his neck a little awkwardly as Robin dismissively waves off his apology.

"No, it's fine, I'm just saying. Now, let's get inside before they start."

With that, she loops her arm through Steve's and drags him into the Hideout. They're hit with a wave of cigarette smoke, spilled beer, and sweat as they walk through the door, the combined smells making Steve dizzy. He frowns, leaning closer to Robin as she squeezes his arm. He feels her thumb tap him twice, their code for asking if the other is okay.

"I'm fine," he mumbles, nodding to a table in the corner. "Let's go sit. I just need to get used to...everything."

The lights are weird, too. Despite the place being dim, the few lights that are on are flickering, and Steve is having trouble processing all the new information his (working) senses are taking in.

Thankfully, Robin pulls him over to the table he pointed to, a small circle near a stage of dubious sturdiness. It looks like it can barely hold the instruments, much less those plus the people who will play them. There's an amp on the side of the stage near the table, which means they'll have the perfect spot to feel the music's vibrations. Steve slides into one of the chairs there and closes his eyes, resting his arms on a table that is surprisingly not sticky.

He feels Robin move the other chair next to him, slide in, and start pulling things out of her bag. When Steve opens his eyes again, there's a notebook between them and a variety of pens in all different colors spread out across the open pages. Robin has already picked up a red pen and is writing with it as Steve chooses a purple one.

When Robin is done writing, she taps the page so Steve can read, "Want something to drink?"

"I'm not sure we can trust the glasses here," he writes back.

"The fact you're calling them "glasses" tells me everything. Just sit tight."

With that, Robin drops her pen, winks at Steve, and heads over to the bar where a woman is wiping the counter. Steve watches her for a few seconds before looking around at the other people in the place. Most of them are sitting in groups, talking amongst themselves. Most of them also have mustaches or beards, making it downright impossible for Steve to read their lips.

Instead, Steve just gets a dull kind of rush in his ears, an ever-present background noise he can't escape. Soon enough, maybe because he's thinking about it too much, a high-pitched ringing starts up in his right ear, growing and growing in pitch until it's all he can focus on. Steve grimaces and looks down at the notebook, trying to keep his shoulders relaxed so he doesn't look as tense as he feels. The ringing persists, and he rubs his ear like that's going to help.

His ear is still ringing, though it has started to diminish, when a water bottle is placed in front of him. Steve jerks, forcing himself to calm down as Robin slides into her seat again with a mug of beer that's more foam than anything else. "They're about to start," she says, waiting until Steve has nodded once to show understanding before taking a sip.

Steve looks up at the stage and wonders how he missed Eddie and his friends arriving. As his friends are setting up behind him, Eddie is resting one hand on the neck of his guitar and using the other to hold the mic close to his mouth. Steve can't read his lips, but Eddie's grin is a little contagious as he says something to a guy by the bar. The guy must say something back, because Eddie bursts out laughing, his head thrown back to show off a neck Steve wants to bite.

A tap on his arm brings his attention away, and he looks at the notebook to see Robin has scrawled out a transcript:

"Eddie: Thanks for coming out tonight, everyone

Guy: Fuck off, Munson

Eddie: Love you, too, Jeremy"

Steve snorts, looking up to see Robin's equally amused smile as she continues to write on another page. When he glances at the stage, Steve sees Eddie still talking into the mic, his eyes roaming over the audience until they reach Steve and Robin. Eddie seems to grip the mic tighter, and he holds Steve's eyes for a few seconds, giving just enough time for Steve to wave awkwardly before Eddie looks away. But his smile seems a little bigger than before, and Steve is happy to let himself think he caused it.

When he looks down again, Robin has finished writing, and she nudges the notebook closer to him. Eddie must talk fast, because her writing is almost indistinguishable from chicken scratch in dirt that a cat got dragged through. Thankfully, Steve is an expert at this point.

"Eddie: Anyway, you know the drill. We'll start with some Metallica, treat you to Iron Maiden, throw in a dash of Black Sabbath, and then grace you with a Corroded Coffin original. If you don't like it, not my problem."

Steve feels the beginning of the set as he finishes reading. He sits a little straighter, planting his feet firmly on the floor and placing his palms on the table with his fingers spread. Robin is still writing next to him, most likely transcribing the bits and pieces of conversation she can hear for Steve to read later and laugh at. She doesn't try to get his attention while she does, already knowing it won't be worth it after Steve has shifted into Music Mode.

In the same way that people can tell what song is playing based simply on the first note, Steve can sometimes tell based on the strength and length of the first vibration. In the same way people know the lyrics of songs after listening to them enough times, Steve knows the vibration patterns like the back of his hand. In the same way people who hear their favorite songs played live can tell when a note is wrong or a lyric is sung too fast, Steve can tell when the drummer or bassist makes tiny mistakes that wouldn't be caught otherwise.

And Steve loves it. He loves how his entire body thrums with each vibration that travels from the amp. He loves how he can close his eyes and picture a story based on the music, one that probably doesn't match the lyrics but tends to replace them in his heart. He loves that this is something he can still share with his friends, even if most of them don't realize how different his experience with music is.

So, for all the little bumps and dips that occur in the vibrations as Corroded Coffin plays, for all the tiny slips that certainly go unnoticed by anyone else, and for all the fact that Steve doesn't get to hear Eddie's voice, he can confidently say he loves the show. He's never heard the songs played like this before, and it helps diminish the gut-deep desperation for new music.

And then Corroded Coffin starts a new song. It's one Steve doesn't recognize, one with vibrations that are completely foreign to him, and he jerks his head up to watch Eddie play his guitar in an opening solo. It thrums across the floor, climbing up his legs and spreading in waves from his palms on the table. Steve feels goosebumps chase after it, a new wave washing over him when the guitar solo ends with a particularly strong vibration that's immediately followed by the drums and bass.

Eddie throws himself into the music, moving and twisting and strutting around the stage like he's playing to Madison Square Garden. Steve can't look away, the lyrics incomprehensible but replaced by the jerk of Eddie's hips and the tilt of his head and the little half-spin he does on his heel.

It ends too quickly with one final, reverberating strum that lingers in Steve's bones, burrowing into his marrows as Eddie pushes his hair back and grins into the mic. He says something breathlessly, his shoulders rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath, and Steve knows he's gone.

He's hopeless.

He's desperate.

He needs more Corroded Coffin, more Eddie, in whatever form he can get.

----

For the first time, Corroded Coffin gets genuine applause after playing. Usually, the patrons of the Hideout will politely clap (if they even notice the set is over) for about two seconds. Tonight, however, Eddie and his friends are graced with excited clapping, a few shouts, and one very strong whistle from a small table to the left of the stage. And it spreads because even rough biker dudes can fall to peer pressure when it's that enthusiastic.

So, yeah, genuine applause all because of Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley who, Eddie thinks, is surprising company for the former King of Hawkins High. No matter how unexpected, he should still thank them and ask what they thought of the set now that it's over. He carefully sets his guitar on a stand and glances over his shoulder, catching Jeff's gaze and flashing a grin. "I'll be right back," he says before jumping off the stage and heading over to Steve and Robin's table.

As he gets closer, he notices the notebook and pens spread out, colorful writing filling the pages and Steve grinning with amusement as he reads it. Robin is watching him like she's waiting for him to understand an inside joke already so they can laugh about it together. If Eddie didn't already know Robin was like him (band camp, summer after his junior year, during an unfortunate game of Seven Minutes in Heaven where they awkwardly stood in a closet together before Robin commented on his black bandana), he'd wonder if something was going on between them.

"How'd you like the set?" Eddie asks when he reaches the table, suddenly nervous enough to tug on a lock of his hair and pull it in front of his mouth.

Robin looks up, but Steve doesn't. He's still reading the notebook, snorting at whatever is written there like he didn't hear Eddie. It's not until Robin elbows him that he raises his head, eyes widening when he sees Eddie. "Sorry, could you repeat that?" Steve asks, his gaze dropping to Eddie's mouth (Eddie definitely isn't imagining that) and faltering some.

"I asked if you liked the set," Eddie says, frowning slightly as Robin grabs a pen and scribbles something on the notebook. It's too small for him to read, but he doesn't miss how Steve glances down for less than a second before his eyes light up with realization.

"Oh!" he says, looking back at Eddie and flashing a charming grin. "It was great. You guys are so loud, and I've never f-uh, heard anything like your original song before."

Eddie catches the way Steve fumbles, faltering like he wanted to say one word but forced himself to say another. Something is tugging at the back of Eddie's mind, but he can't quite grab onto it just yet. For now, he leans forward, placing both hands on the table so he can be closer to Steve. "You listen to metal often, Harrington?" he asks.

Steve stares at his mouth for a few seconds before nodding, and Eddie feels the thrill of learning something completely unexpected. "I like Black Sabbath best, but Judas Priest and Guns N' Roses are close seconds," Steve says.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, "What do you like most about it?" He wants to know. Does Steve Harrington (King Steve, Steve "The Hair" Harrington, Steve fucking Harrington) like metal for the same reasons he does? Does he like the stories and the passion and the heavy theatricality of it all?

Steve seems to hesitate, possibly thinking about how to answer, before finally saying, "I like how it's music I can feel. When I listen to metal, it digs into my bones. Other music doesn't."

Somehow, Eddie's grin gets impossibly wider, and his cheeks are hurting from the sheer force of it. He's about to say more when Robin glances at the clock and swears under her breath. "Shit, I promised Mom I'd be home ten minutes ago," she says, grabbing the pens and recklessly throwing them into her bag.

It's the movement that seems to catch Steve's attention, and he looks down at Robin's hands before looking up at the clock. "Oh, fuck, your curfew," he says, looking at Robin like she hadn't just said the same thing two seconds ago.

"Yeah, no shit, dingus," Robin says, pausing long enough to speak while looking straight at Steve before throwing the notebook into her bag, too. She jumps to her feet and hauls Steve out of the chair, making his varsity jacket fall open to reveal an Iron Maiden shirt.

And Eddie thinks his heart just about stops. He doesn't know why, but seeing Steve in a metal band shirt under an undeniably jock jacket makes him feel....something. This is, like, sacrilege, right? How dare Steve Harrington allow Metal and Jock to meet? Doesn't he know the two styles clash? Or, well, they're supposed to clash, but Steve somehow wears them well, and Eddie thinks he's upset and annoyed by the fact.

Before Eddie can analyze that feeling, Steve says, "Sorry to run, Eddie. You played really well. Let me know when the next show is."

There's a lot to unpack there, too. Steve Harrington wants to come to another Corroded Coffin gig. Steve Harrington is sorry he has to cut the conversation short. Steve Harrington thinks his band played really well. Before Eddie can say anything in response, Robin is dragging Steve away, throwing a goodbye over her shoulder.

Eddie doesn't want Steve to go without something, though, some kind of departing word, so he shouts, "See ya later, big boy!"

Steve doesn't look back, but Robin nearly trips over the doorway. She then pauses long enough to say something to Steve, watching with sheer delight as he splutters and glances at Eddie before dragging her through the door. Eddie couldn't stop the grin if he tried, and he didn't try.

Later, when Eddie is sprawled on the floor of his room, staring up at the ceiling and thinking about Steve's stupid combination of Metal and Jock, he'll be struck by a sudden, consuming thought. What if Steve was wearing just the Iron Maiden shirt? What if he wore just the jacket?

Eddie swallows around the sudden lump in his throat, his mouth going dry as he scrambles to his feet and gets ready to take a very, very cold shower.

----

Tag List (the tag list is completely filled up! There definitely wasn't enough room for everyone who requested a tag orz

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[miyamoratsumuu]

WHAT'S LEFT OF YOU

↳ you promised to marry each other by the time you were 23. but when the time came, a happy marriage wasn't what greeted you when you saw him again. touya todoroki/dabi x reader notes/warnings: implied character death (no specific details of how), angst angst angst!!!, events stated from the war may not be completely accurate, doesn't contain a specific timeline from the series

navigation . . .

mha masterlist

"we'll get married when we're eighteen!" was the first thing touya heard when you successfully convinced your mom to give you two rings she never wears anymore. the boy could only roll his eyes as he watched you skip your way closer to him.

"no way! that's way too early you know!" he crossed his arms and tapped his foot on the ground. he instantly regretted doing so when your grin was replaced with a frown and tears threatened to spill from your eyes. touya sighed and took one of the rings from your hand and held it up in front of you.

"let's get married when we're twenty three instead. we won't be too young and we won't be too old either. just don't cry, alright?" he slipped the ring onto his finger and he did the same for yours. now your grin was wider than the one you had earlier, and the eldest todoroki couldn't have it any other way. he was satisified with himself until you raised your pinky finger towards him.

"pinky promise?" you had a hint of hesitation in your voice, laced with the innocence of believing in the strength of promises made with the pinky of your hand. touya only replied to your hesitation with a confident grin, and with him wrapping his pinky around yours.

"promise!"

that was the last interaction you've had with touya todoroki since you last saw him. it's been forever since you last made promises with the boy, it's been years since you last heard his name, and it's been months since both of your birthdays this year have passed. both of you were supposed to be twenty three by now, but then again, your ring finger still lacked a wedding band.

you never thought you'd stand face to face with the todorokis again after all these years, but here you are. enji todoroki, the man himself, laid in a hospital bed, as his wife and children stood by him. "dabi's dance" "the todorokis' eldest son is alive" "touya turned into a villain" "touya's alive"

the last thought never left your head for what felt like forever. the swirl of emotions in your stomach felt like the warmth of a fire on a winter night and the sting of alcohol in a new wound in one. it's been days since dabi, the famously known villain from the league of villains revealed himself to be touya todoroki. the current battle between him and shoto must be tough on both of them; you thought. it was tough on you too, to only be watching from the other side of a tv screen in your dimly lit apartment.

it made you feel bad, but the only thing going through your mind while the brothers were on tv was if touya's promise ring was still with him. if you were special enough to him for him to keep something that had a piece of you that came along with it. it's a shame you only got your answer weeks after the war ended.

it wasn't a surprise that the only people that attended the man's funeral were the members of the todoroki family themselves. other than them, you were the only other attendee there. all of you wore black, and the pouring rain just matched your mood perfectly. soon, one by one, touya's only known family other than the league said their goodbyes and left. until the only ones left in front of the sad pile of soil was you and enji todoroki. your eyes never left the ground until the man beside you cleared his throat.

"the police said they found this among touya's belongings. well, his used to be belongings. everything else was burned in a fire, this was the only thing left." you turned to him as he opened his palm to reveal a ring; it was small and had the smallest bit of rust along its sides but otherwise, you could recognize that piece of jewelry anywhere.

"I assumed it had something to do with you since I've seen you wearing a similar one for a while now." enji urged you to open your hand, and he gently placed the ring in your palm. he offered you a bow and bid you goodbye. since the man left, you never moved from where you stood, and you never let the ring out of your sight. it was the last piece of who touya was; before hurt caught up to him, before it pushed him to change who he was entirely, and before you lost him.

tears pricked your eyes as you slipped touya's ring onto the finger beside the one your own ring was on. this time, you let the tears fall down your cheeks. you let yourself cry, now that touya isn't there to stop you. by now, you were supposed to be celebrating your marriage with the only boy you ever loved. instead, you grieved in his death, and the sky continued to let its tears fall as it mourned with you.

a/n: my first take at writing for dabi!! I hope this came out alright huhu I'm not too sure with how I described some scenes but oh well (I desperately need rue's opinion on this like I'm praying to the tumblr gods that rue sees this on her dashboard PLSPLSPLS)

[dearanakin]

Biker Boy - !biker Eddie Munson

As requested by my girlie anonymous friend, who gave such a great idea, here it is!! I used the details as an excuse to make this short story spicy 🥹

Summary: You and Eddie are friends with benefits. Whenever he has the chance, he always gives you a ride and everytime you hear the engine and him revving, your body goes crazy. You have a kink he doesn't know, so maybe it's time to finally get the word out.

Warnings: oral sex, fingering, cursing, fluffiness. +18 DNI

Word count: 2k.

His engine was revving in the distance as you heard the roar of his motorcycle approaching your neighborhood. As you're just finishing getting ready, the sound of his vehicle makes your heart do a flip, it's always automatic. The anticipation of watching him riding his machine always made its way in. You run to the front door as soon as he pulls over on your sidewalk.

You watch as he leans his bike to one side and dismounts gracefully, your stomach sinking from the view. Clad in his black leather jacket, Eddie was wearing ripped jeans - as always -, white sneakers and leather gloves. Oh, the leather gloves. They certainly did things to you.

You and your friend became closer over the past months, then you had the greatest idea of becoming friends with benefits. Something your friends didn't quite understand because you both decided you'd be exclusive to each other. Robin would always say it kinda gives away the term, because you wouldn't date other people.

The metalhead had his face hidden under the helmet, only showing the end of his hair and his big brown chocolate eyes. Everything just sends shivers down your spine. As soon as he got rid of the helmet, his hair flung revealing a mop of tousled curls. His dark green motorcycle had fat tires, decorated with a silly amount of stickers of every kind; bands, movies, games. 

He had a gin, although he wasn't the biggest fan of a party. He promised he would only go because it was Steve's, and because his friend got into college. 

"Hey sweet thing," he greeted you with a small kiss on your forehead. You gave him some space to get inside your house, leaving the helmet on the coffee table and taking his jacket off.

"It'll be a couple of minutes, just finishing my makeup". He only then noticed how pretty you were looking. You were wearing a tight black dress, brown boots and your hair was perfectly sat on a ponytail.

"You look too stunning to wear makeup," Eddie responded and you chuckled.

"Always such a gentleman". You took that opportunity to finally give him a proper kiss as he sat on the armrest of your couch. But then your eyes caught a glimpse of his hands still wearing the gloves.

Approaching him, you wrap your arms around his neck as he uses his right hand to tug on your waist while the other one goes to your face. The way the fabric sticks to your skin makes you immediately stiff your entire body and you've barely reached his lips, leaving only a few inches close to them.

When Eddie hears your light but recognizable moan, he looks at you lifting his eyebrows. You're almost making a fool of yourself but fuck that, you liked his hands in gloves. He didn't know that, because you never actually bothered telling him you had an actual kink. It's not like he never asked, he was always pretty curious to know your deepest secrets about your sex life.

"That was quick," he joked and you tried not to laugh at his taunting.

"Shut the fuck up". As you retorted him, you gave him a wet but already forwarded kiss, sliding your tongue inside his mouth. He tasted like cherry from the candy ball he usually eats after smoking. The tobacco smoke was lingering on his entire body, as well as his cheap perfume you love.

Eddie slid his hand down your body and gripped your hips before loosening his touch, threatening to remove his gloves. You desperately held his hands and shook your head. He tried to comprehend just what the hell you wanted.

"Keep the gloves," you begged. The man was barely existing and yet you were feeling like you were turning into jelly just at the thought of the leather touching your skin.

He smirked and raised his eyebrows, teasing you. "These? Huh". The way he reacted to it gave him an idea you haven't thought of yet, and still he was already light-years ahead of you. Eddie firmly grasped your waist and swung you, making you sit at the exact spot he was sitting.

He assaulted you with his feral tongue, liking yours and pulling your lower lip between his teeth. Boy, did he become another man after that. Using his left hand, Eddie started sliding it down your body, making sure to hold the curve under your breast, pressing his fingertips on your waist, reaching the hem of your dress.

The kiss became sloppy as soon as he slowly lifted it to your hip. Thank God you always chose a good lingerie. This time it was a thin, soft, lace pantie he was about to pull to the side. Before he did his main show, the curly haired metalhead squeezed your thigh and ripped a small mewl from your mouth against his.

His tone became husky and his cherry breath hit against your skin. "It's a shame I can't feel how wet you are right now. But I'm guessing you're soaking already". You whined by the feeling of his middle finger opening your folds, rubbing your wet skin with tenderness first. Eddie was always gentle, sometimes he rushed things, but you were headed to a party, so this one had to be fast.

Without warning, he made his way with his middle finger into you and you tightened your walls against his gloved digit. "Oh, fuck, Eddie". You cried out, your lips were parted. You were too busy to actually kiss him, but he was also focused on something else as well.

"Jesus, baby. You're so dirty," he breathed out against your ear. Eddie stuck his index finger to your cunt, along with the other, and the leather surely made it feel different from anything else.

His pace was calm, but the minute he felt you were used to the dressed fingers, he started to speed up, curling both, so they would hit your perfect spot. You're having a hard time breathing in and out, his thumb was rubbing against your swollen clit with so much desire.

Quickly, you unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, facing his fat cock throbbing against his boxer. From your position, you could choose between just jerking him off or eating him whole.

You decided you would suck the life out of him. You started giving him wet kisses around his arousal, his tip, and his balls. It made him hiss, throwing his head back.

"Fuck, sweetie," he pleaded, working his fingers in a sweet, but fast motion. Eddie felt the back of your throat hit the tip and he almost stuttered, it was always hard for him to hold back his moans. He never actually lasted more than five minutes because you had the most fuckable mouth.

Bobbing your head up and down, you could still whine with his cock in your mouth, giving him a full lick as well. Your living room was quiet and the only sounds that could be heard was from his finger pumping and your moaning, along with the sucking.

Eddie was focusing on rubbing your clit ever so slowly, while his fingers worked harder and faster inside you. He used his plump lips to keep them on the top of your head, while pulling a handful of your hair with his free hand.

You didn't have boundaries at this point. You were both so close and so intimate, you would even fuck on a balcony, if you had one. Alone in a room, you were free to use your hands and your mouth deliberately. Just like now.

Almost gagging on his length, you made sure to grip on his cock, hollowing your cheeks making enough pressure for him to gasp so loud, he almost fainted. "Oh God, I'm gonna cum," he cried.

You never left the smirk on your face because you knew how good you were with your mouth, and he was always reassuring you. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying to not break down from your blowjob, keeping his fingers curled hitting your spot. It didn't take longer for your walls to start clenching around him.

He gripped your clit with his thumb, rubbing it faster, sloppy movements as he started to feel his own pleasure hitting the roof. You felt his cock twitch inside your mouth and you kept your pace, bobbing your head, until he released his juices down your throat.

Eddie loved seeing how you always swallowed him until the very last drop of it. He squinted his eyes closed, relishing every ounce of your saliva on his throbbing skin. "Fuck, you're so good," the metalhead whispered.

Not so much behind, you felt him pinching your clit while using only his middle finger inside you, watching as you bucked your hips, rocking them against his digits. "Ah, Munson". Using his last name as a resource to help you reach your own climax always worked and he knew that, he never complained.

As you throw your head back against the back of the couch, Eddie assaults your neck, nibbling on the skin, feeling your walls throb and clench around his gloved finger. "Yeah, cum for me baby girl". He always alternates his pet names towards you, so you would never know what would come next.

Your entire body squirmed around his fingers, your clit became too sensitive to the touch and your cunt closed tightly on his finger. You felt too weak on your knees and you were thankful for sitting on the couch, even though Eddie was still holding your neck.

You felt empty as soon as he removed his fingers from you and your stomach flipped. God, you felt so needy sometimes.

He zipped his pants back and pulled the belt. "You made such a mess on my glove, sweet thing".

"Good thing you have another one for us to use at the party". You respond as you fix your dress and walk to your bedroom.

You missed his reaction to your statement and he put on his glove back. It had your taste and your smell, he might as well use it as his accessory.

Ready and outside your house after a quick pornography, you stood at the side of his sleek vehicle, ensuring your safety before hopping on his bike. Next to his machine, he handed you the helmet, reaching out gently guiding you through the process.

Eddie always made sure to strap on it, so it wouldn't fall off your head during the ride, not too tight and not too loose either. "Thank you, handsome".

You swung your leg, hopping on the back of his bike, watching as the sky was casting a lavender hue over the quiet street of your neighborhood. You heard his revving and your heart jumps in, you loved it when he did that.

Just when he screeched the tires on the floor, you held your arms around his waist, placing both hands on his stomach. He loved driving too fast and he knew you hated it. Most of the time he would just speed up just a little to taunt you.

Approaching a red traffic light, Eddie slowed his vehicle, smoothly stopping as he supported both of you with one foot on the ground. As always, he turned his head slightly, resting his hands on your thighs, rubbing your knees with his gloved fingers.

You're thinking he didn't even bother to not wear the glove he used to fuck you, and you didn't know if you were actually more turned on or just feeling really repulsiveness. Either way, his endearment towards you always caught you off guard, he's too used to resting his hands on you at every fucking red light.

You smiled in return and just enjoyed his warm and steady touch, while you leaned your head against his back. As the light became green, he left his grip to hold the handlebars, speeding up the engine.

Eddie pulled up at Steve's house, the loud music was banging from a boombox inside his backyard. Before you both got inside, you reached for his wrist, gently squeezing his arm. He stopped by your side, brows furrowed.

"I'm not kidding about the glove, you better keep it clean", you pecked his lips quickly, before ringing the bell. You didn't expect him to be so close to you before responding.

"This time I'll use a special guest". You turned your head slightly, only to watch him licking his lips, teasing you. Eddie as a biker had you at his mercy, on your knees. 

[madamechrissy]

Dirty Little Secret

ꕥ Pairings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem Reader

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, dirty talk, Toji calls reader 'doll, ma, slut - Age gap- reader is 21 ish, Toji is 39 ish. - This chapter- Rough sex, slapping, spitting, Toji calls reader 'bitch' but it's cute lol!? Blow jobs, teasing, objectification, choking, biting, angry sex, cunnilingus, overstimulation, multiple positions, sixty nine, masturbation

ꕥ Summary- Toji Fushiguro is your dad Shiu's best friend for years. You've known him most your life. You come home for spring break to relax, and who pops up at the fucking doorstep? Toji. He's nasty, annoying, perverted and... Sexy. Hot. Built. And makes you think, maybe your first time shouldn't be with some college boy? But with this buff dude who can tie a cherry stem with his tongue and a scar on his damn lip. You just gotta hope your dad doesn't find out.

Lmk if you wanna be tagged in any updates!

Chapter 5 - Masterlist

Chapter 6

You are on the back of Toji’s motorcycle, in a silky little black dress, as the wind whips through you. You’re wearing his helmet, as he’s just wearing a leather jacket, his hair flipping around as you all ride. It’s thrilling, as your thighs press around his, as your arms are wrapped around his thick, hard body tightly, and when he comes to stop he places a big hand on your little wrists.

“Having fun, doll?” He shouts, as you all take a turn, and you giggle, though he definitely couldn’t hear, burying your head against him.

“So much fun!” You hear that laugh of his, and it hits you in the core. Your little pussy is so sore from earlier, and now as you are straddling the seat the pressure is even worse.

You and Toji pull up to the venue, where Mei and Shiu are lounging at a table watching the band prepare for the set. They wave you both over, and you almost take Toji’s hand, until he just looks down at you, taking off your helmet gently, and you watch that Adam’s apple bob up and down, as he fixes your hair. It may look sweet or caring, but fuck…

Everything this man does makes you soaked.

Uncomfortably soaked honestly. And it also hit your heart, something he keeps doing more and more, and you’re terrified at it. Because even if you say you’re his, for what, this week? Then Toji would leave, and you’d go back to school, and where the fuck would it leave you?

Alone, wrecked.

“What’s wrong doll?” He asks softly then, and you look up, then back at his big hand, sighing.

“Wish I could hold your hand.” You curse then, as you’ve literally let it slip out, then blush, looking down as his lips part. “Let’s go.”

He follows you, but the energy has shifted,Toji himself seemed a little subdued as you all sit next to Shiu and Mei. “Hey how was the ride?”

“So fun!”

“You always loved riding the bike with Toji. Remember?” You flush again, remembering being a little teenager as he rode you around. He’d never been anything but appropriate, but even then? You’d had a damn crush.

“Yeah she did like the bike. She was scared the first few times.”

“You always hung out with Toji so much I thought you had some puppy love thing going on.” Shiu says and you’re covering your face as Toji chuckles, leaning back and your eyes dart to the muscles in the rare dress shirt he’s in.

“Puppy love, no! He was just sort of cool I guess.” You sip some of the drink that’s sat in front of you, and Toji scowls as Shiu and Mei laugh.

“You would always ask ‘when’s Toji coming’ though.” You nearly spit out your drink, as Toji’s eyes caught yours, glinting dark green in the evening. You can see the amusement in his handsome face, on his full lips, smirking right to that scar.

“You’re embarrassing her Shiu!” Mei cuts in thankfully, and you smile at her gratefully. “You look beautiful, love.”

“Oh thank you!” You smile, kissing her cheek.

“You do look beautiful, all grown up.” Your dad hugs you then with one arm, and you smile, sinking into the embrace. “Going to have to fight these boys off you tonight I bet.”

“Oh, let her dance tonight.” Mei says, and you nervously catch the hard line of Toji’s mouth, and you tense a bit, as you notice the amount of people crowding around the front.

“Go ahead, kiddo, dance with people your age. We’ll stay here like the old folks.” You frown then.

“You’re young though.” Shiu blinks at that, and Toji just sips his whiskey, not looking at you at all, not saying anything.

“Thought we were old to you?” Shiu teases, and you shake your head.

“Nah, not really. Had me so young.”

“That’s true but tell my back I’m not old. Now, go on, mingle.” You falter again, because all you want to do is sit there with Toji, who hasn’t said a fucking word, who is buysing himself looking at the menu.

“Um… but we should order?”

“I’ll order for ya, doll.” Toji murmurs, smiling a bit, but it didn’t reach his eyes, they were unreadable. “Go have some fun. Been stuck with us old folks all week.”

You hate that, you hate the sound of him saying it, saying what you’ve always called him as a joke. But Toji wasn’t old, he wasn’t even forty, and fuck was forty even old? No. And his body? His… fucking stamina? Nothing about Toji was old, down to his handsome face and sculpted body. But there was hurt clear as day in his voice, and you ache to stay.

But what would that do?

“Just for a few, I’ll be back.” You smile, and stand, feeling Toji’s gaze burn a hole in your back as you get up to where all the people your age and even younger were gathered, where the rock band was setting up.

The band starts playing soon, and you find yourself dancing unwillingly, as it’s a local band you always loved, moving your body, letting go of all your inhibitions as the music wraps around you. You’re lost in the beat, when a hand is on your hip, and you look over to see some boy smiling at you, his eyes a bit glazed over with the music like yours.

“Wanna dance?” He shouts over the music, and you hesitate, looking at the table. Mei gives you a thumbs up, and Shiu is rolling his eyes, but Toji’s eyes narrow slightly, watching you closely.

What could you do? Say ‘no, I’d rather dance with your best friend dad, the one who fucked me twice earlier today, whose cum still is working it’s way out of my cunt, but oh, no biggie!’ Yeah that would go over well. The alternative, clearly hurt Toji, regardless how he’s acting.

Fuck.

You’re nodding, smiling at the boy, when his hands start to wander to your waist as you all move with the music, and you realize, you don’t want anyone else’s hands on you but Toji’s. Possibly fucking ever. Because Toji’s hands, big and strong, possess your whole body, while this boy’s sweaty little hands make you cringe. And worse, you see the look on his face.

Toji sips that whiskey, trying to hide the clear pain in his eyes, as he watches you dance with this boy, who is nothing compared to him. Fuck you hope Toji knows that… it makes you want to push that boy away and run to him. But instead you just keep dancing, because what can you say, what can you do?

You can’t tell your dad you're falling for Toji.

Fuck. You're falling!?

Toji watches you, swaying your hips side to side, your hair falling in waves as your black dress clings to your every curve. You’re so bright in the sea of people that fade away, so beautiful it makes him want to rip his fucking heart out. He had thought he could handle this, since wasn’t this your future? He wouldn’t fit in, he’d clearly been deluding himself.

The boy who has no right touching you has his hands all over your narrow waist, and your eyes catch his across the crowded venue, and you don’t look like you’re having fun now. No, you’re worried about him aren’t you? And you shouldn’t be, you should be able to have fun.

You’re young.

Toji stiffens, as he sips his drink again, hating every second of sitting here, with his best friend, and what a friend Toji was. Cumming inside his daughter, twice, and he’d do it again and again, breed that perfect little pussy, fuck he wanted to even right now, to show you who you belonged to. But you would never, could never be his, he sees it now, and it fucking kills him.

He cares enough to not put you through it, being with him.

You dance awkwardly for a moment, feeling the boy’s hands in places they shouldn’t be, but you’re frozen, your eyes glued to Toji’s now retreating figure. You peer and see Mei and Shiu talking carefully, but you say fuck it, and push the college boy away gently, making your way through the crowd as the music thumps in your chest, matching the erratic beat of your heart.

You catch up to Toji as he’s striding towards the exit, his leather jacket fluttering around him with the wind blowing now. “Toji, wait!” You call out, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back. “Toji Fushiguro!”

You grab his arm, that leather cold under your palm, spinning him around, and he glares down at you, those piercing eyes a storm of emotions. “What?” He snaps, his voice low and gruff, and you shrink back.

“Don't leave, please I'm sorry. I didn’t want to dance with him, Toji, but what was I supposed to do!?”

“You didn’t do shit wrong doll.” He looks around, and realizing you’re alone, he brushes your hair behind your ear. “Not mad at ya. Mad at me.”

“What for!?”

“It’s a bad idea, doll, this entire thing. You’re gonna want someone your own age, someone who can give you what you need, not just fuck you into oblivion every night and leave you with nothing in the morning.”

The words sting, but you stand your ground. “What if I don’t want that? What if I want you?” Your chest heaves then, as you can barely breathe, everything making your chest so tight, you have to hold it. Toji sighs, looking down at your body, every bit making you ache.

“You’re so beautiful, y’know? Everyone would die for a chance. I’m stupid to have even done…”

“Don’t you dare say you regret it!” You scowl, speaking through gritted teeth and shoving his hard chest.

“I could never. How could I? I’m a selfish fucking dick. But, it’s stupid, and I’m a shit fucking guy to have.”

“You’re not!”

“I seduced you.” You blink then, shaking your head. “Yeah, doll, I did… intentionally. Because you’re fucking gorgeous.”

“And I wanted it, clearly, I begged for it. What the hell are you on about? I dance with someone and you’re done?” 

He sighs, his expression softening. “You don’t know what you want. You’re just a kid, playing with fire.”

“But I do know what I want!” You protest, your voice rising above the music. “I want you okay? I’m not a kid. I’m obviously a woman.”

Toji looks away, his jaw clenched. “You’ll get over it. You’re going back to school, and you’ll find some college boy to make all your fantasies come true. Someone who can actually take care of you, not a fuck-up like me.”

“A fuck up!”

“Exactly.”

“You’re not a fuck up Toji.” You choke up then, as you see his face, clearly in pain now. “You’re not. I swear it.”

“

“Want a secret?” You sigh, nodding, and he puts his hands on your waist now, making you whine softly, and he exhales at the sound, at the feel of you. “Those feelings? I have em too.”

“You what!?” You whisper incredulously, eyes wide, and he sighs, bending low for just a moment.

“Have 'em worse than just liking.” You bite your lower lip hard, he pulls it out of the grip of your teeth.

“Maybe I do too.” Your eyes are watering as you speak softly, and his jaw clenches, his hot breath right on your lips, his musky scent driving you insane, mixing with the night and his leather jacket. “All I wanna do is dance with you.”

“You can’t.”

“I can, once we… we could tell… we could go…”

“Yeah, no. See? All stupid ideas.”

“But I don’t want anyone else!” Tears threaten to spill over, and you can feel the very night spinning around you, as you sense the finality in the shit he’s speaking. “Please, don’t leave like this. It won’t even… Toji, don’t.”

He looks back at you, his eyes searching your face. “I’m not good for you, doll. This isn’t right, you know that. Just go back to your life, forget about me. I’ll go ahead and head back tomorrow so I don’t… ruin you more.”

You shake your head, feeling desperation claw at your chest. “I can’t forget you, what the fuck! Where is Toji and who are you?”

He sighs, his thumb brushing over your cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “You will forget about me. You’re just confused, and it’s my fault.”

“I knew exactly what I was doing.” You scoff, rubbing your slender arms, which have cough a chill in the night, and he looks down, sighing. “You just said you’d be the only one? What the fuck games are you playing?”

“Not playing any, I won’t hurt you anymore.”

“So what, you’ll leave, after we…” You’re sobbing now, and he exhales, holding your shoulders. “Leaving is so…”

“Can’t ya see it’s best? Let me be not such a piece of shit-”

You smack him then, hard, and he scowls. You scowl right back up at his handsome face, the face you find so gorgeous it kills you. “You’re not a piece of shit, so fucking stop.”

“Ya don’t remember who I was?”

“Who cares! It’s not who you are now!”

He sighs, rolling his eyes and wracking a hand through his hair. “Your dad is gonna suspect something. I can handle his anger, but I don’t wanna come between both of you.”

“You won’t, you won’t. Okay? Toji… I want to sleep in your fucking arms, I want to wake up with you.” He blinks, and you see the unwilling emotion in his gaze, as you run your hand up his chest. “You’re making me say stupid shit, feel stupid feelings, then just gonna run away, huh?”

“I’ll stay tonight. But you should have fun. Go.”

“No! It’s hurt you.”

“It shouldn’t. You’re Megumi’s age, shit.”

“And?”

“Just go back. I’ll see you tomorrow. Actually have fun for the night and think if I’m really what ya want. I know I can fuck good but you deserve more.” He’s caressing your cheek with the back of his fingers, feeling the hot sticky tears. “More than me making ya cry.”

“I’m crying because you won’t even give me the few days we have left. Can you at least… please, it’s like you didn’t even like it-”

“Shut the fuck up.” He’s snatched you to him now, slamming his lips down on yours, and you just melt for him, for Toji’s rough kisses, as his big hands pull you against that hard body. “Why do you gotta feel so good, taste so good? Goddammit… just go. I won’t leave yet. Got it?”

“Fine. Fine, be a big baby.” You glare, and he returns it, then he turns, and you watch him go to his bike, revving it up and looking at you as he puts on that helmet you’d wore. And you ache to hug him from behind, to ride with him

You feel you’re losing your goddamn mind.

***

You wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, as you dream of him on you, near you, his hard body just holding yours, keeping you warm, and when you wake up and feel next to you, you’re in tears. Fuck what were you even expecting, it’s not like you all had cuddled. You all fucked, and clearly he felt bad about it, leaving the damn concert with no explanation.

He told Shiu and Mei that he didn’t feel good, and they seemingly believed it, but they certainly noticed how dejected you were. You tried to save face, but for hours you’d been up and down, tossing and turning in your little bed, mind swirling as you think of the man in the room right next to you.

“Fuck this.” You grumble, yanking the blanket down off you then, standing and tiptoeing out of your room, peeking down the hallway, then standing right in front of the guest room door.

Am I doing this?

Yeah, you are.

You hear something then, heavy breaths, and you lean your cheek against the door, faintly hearing a soft moan, and it hits you hard, hearing Toji’s moans always tears you apart. Him letting that tough exterior go for just a moment to feel was the sexiest thing to you, but more sexy? When you hear him muttering your name. You hear it clear as day, hitting your core as you turn the knob.

It’s locked of course, you sigh, but luckily the locks are old, so just a twist of one of your long nails grants you entry, and Toji is staring at the phone, his huge cock in his hand, the sheets a mess around his ankles. His hand drops the phone when he sees you, eyes wide in shock, his hand leaving that cock that clearly is covered in precum and spit.

You lock the door behind you quietly, pressing your back against the door, and you see your photo when you start to walk closer, a bikini photo of you. He gulps, but he doesn’t speak, for once the usually brash and lewd Toji is simply watching you, his hands gripping the sheets under him, cock twitching as you watch it, thick tip just leaking precum.

“Need a better picture?” You murmur, sliding off your crop top then, and he moans, eyes lavishing your body eagerly. Fuck, Toji makes you feel so pretty, like no one else exists to him but you in those moments. “Need me to take one?”

He just nods a bit, and you smile, sliding off your shorts then too. You lay on the bed right next to him, snatching up his phone, and opening the camera, pulling it up above you and taking a picture of your bare body. You then hand him the phone, as he just hungrily glares at every inch of you.

“You take a few. Get a good angle.” His big hands are shaky, as he licks his lower lip, as you bend forward, eyes looking up at him, wrapping your little hand around his thick cock.

“Doll… what the fuck are you… mnnh…” He’s moaning as you tighten your grip just slightly, looking at him with big eyes.

“Take a picture, Toji. Or a video. So you can realize what you’re missing, because you’re fucking stubborn.” You bend down then, licking up that sticky liquid, moaning as the salty taste hits your mouth, and he groans, grabbing you by your hair.

“You’re a fuckin’ brat. Know that, right?” You hum, lapping him up, running your tongue along that sensitive slit, as you see him put the phone up then, videoing you sucking him, up and down his shaft, hand twisting as you slide up. “Why you gotta do this t’me?”

“What, help you cum? You seemed to be asking for me.” He glares then, putting down the phone and snatching you up, pulling you to straddle his lap, your plush thighs on either sides of his hard ones. “Why stop me, let me suck you off.”

“I’d rather have you ride my face.”

“Wha!?” Suddenly you’re spun around, straddling his shoulders, pussy right on his face, where you feel his hot breath tickle your sensitive core, and you’re facing his huge cock again.

“I need you to cum all over m’face so I don’t say stupid shit. Also, just want you to suffocate me.”

“Toji… ohmygod!” His tongue flicks your clit then, hot and wet as it slides in, his hands pulling your lips wide for his entry. He sucks up all the wetness.

“That wet from suckin me, lil slut?”

“I’ll shut you up all right.” You press down on his face, and he moans, gripping you tight, his tongue going insane, while his hand presses your head down to take his cock in your mouth.

Are you doing sixty nine with Toji Fushiguro?

You sure are, as you’re sucking his cock down your throat, as he’s drinking your arousal up like it’s wine, lavishing you with his wicked tongue. You’re gagging on his cock, drooling down his balls, which you cup and stoke, making them tighten as he moans against your little clit. His grip on your ass is tight as he rocks you back and forth, making you grind on him.

“Fuckin use me till you cum, doll.” He mutters, and you stop sucking for just a moment, as the sensations hit so hard you can’t take it, stifling your scream of pleasure by sucking down his length, cumming as you moan around it.

“Mnh!” You’re screaming around his cock, as he’s rocking his hips up into you, as you’re gushing all over his face, weak then, unable to move, your hands gripping is strong thighs as he fucks your mouth.

Suddenly he’s shoving you down, until you’re straddling his thighs once more, and you start grinding on his cock, looking back at him, face shimmering with you, his eyes dilated to the point they look black. He sits up then, grabbing your waist and picking you up, before sliding into you, groaning and biting his lower lip with stark white teeth.

“Feel so fuckin perfect, baby.” You melt, as you’re filled by him, stretched beyond your means. “Here…” He puts your hands on his thighs, then pulls your ass back, nudging you up and down. “Ride me like this, lemme watch you.”

“L-like this?” You whisper, rolling your hips up, then slamming back down, and he hisses, smacking your ass that jiggles just so.

“Jus’ like that, ma. Fuck, yes.” You do the motion again, and soon it feels so good at this angle, you’re losing it, arching your back as he fills you, as he grinds against that spot in your walls, which flutter around him. “Ohmyfucking…”

You feel him throbbing, and you grind then, tip on your cervix, whining as you feel your orgasm hitting. Toji’s grabbing every inch of you, even down to your ankles, your feet, pressing his fingers everywhere he could touch, watching your ass shake as you take his cock, as you pour down his length.

“Toji… can’t move. Can’t.” You whine out, pathetic, and he moans at that.

“Fucking… c’mere.” He pulls out of you, and the way he just puts you where he wants thrills you, as he’s got under him now, yanking you by your hips, looking down at your face, brushing your hair back, sliding back inside your tight entry. You gasp at it, as he fucks into you, lifting a thigh.

“T-Toji…” You murmur, eyes rolling back as every hit abuses your cervix, and he wraps a hand around to the back of your neck, pulling your hair, angling your chin for his kisses down your neck.

“How can I let you go? You’ve fucked me. Completely, fucking lil bitch. Evil lil bitch, aren’t you?” He’s agressive now, his thrusts angry, and you glare up at him, nails scratching down his back, making him hiss and tense.

“You wrecked me, fucking dick. Fuck you, Toji- ah-ah-ah!” He’s making you cum as he slams into your little cunt, as he pulls your hair so hard you see stars.

“Fuck me, huh? Nah, fuck you, doll. Gotta be so - ah- perfect. Hate it.” He groans though, then grunts when your thighs clutch his hips tight, and you’re digging  your nails in again.

“Didn’t hate my picture- ha- fucking jerking it to me, huh?” He scowls now, hand cupping your jaw, yanking your mouth open and shoving his fingers in.

“Need to learn to shut this mouth. You liked me doing that, didn’t ya? Stop fuckin lyin.”

You can’t speak, even if his thick fingers weren’t gagging you, his cock wrecking your cunt was bad enough. You can hear the sounds of his skin slapping, his stubble hitting your clit, balls smacking on your ass, all while your cunt sucks him in, sloppy and greedy for more.

“Nothin to say, doll? How about a sorry, for fucking up my head.” You bite him, and he grunts, snatching his fingers out, you grip him by his throat, with your tiny little hand, leaning your face up, raising your hips and fucking him back.

You watch him fall apart over you. “You fucked up my head when you first licked me, demon mother- ah- fucker!”

“Mother fucker? Nah, you’re the daddy fucker here, bitch.” You giggle then, insanely, and he grins. “Ya can still laugh? Gotta fix that.”

“F-fuck you, Toji. Leaving anyway. Fuck you.” You’re on your knees now, and he’s got your hair with his hand, pulling, sliding in your soppy little cunt, slamming balls deep inside you. “Ah, fuck fuck fuck!”

“Gonna fuck ya till you can’t speak, so you stop fucking my head up.” He grunts, and you barely register as he’s pressing your head in the bed, muffling your cries, other hand smacking your ass hard, stinging it. “There, shut you up.”

You don’t even care, not when he’s fucking you stupid, meanly bullying his cock between your walls, which throb around him as you’re cumming again, and he slows for a moment then, groaning softly. He yanks you up by the neck, wrapping a hand around your throat and pulling you up to your knees, on him, and he’s staring right at you as you look to the side.

“You’re fucking beautiful, doll.” You feel tears prick, and you suck in a shaky breath, as he’s rocking inside of you, your tummy clenches as that pressure builds again and again.

“I wanna be yours, Toji. I do.” He tenses, not even moving for a minute, gripping you so tight around your waist.

“There ya go- ha fuck- fucking up… m-my head…” He slams his lips down on yours, and you eagerly drink in his kiss, tongues messy, saliva dripping, teeth just bumping. “Never wanna let you go.”

“Then don’t. Then don’t.” He’s groaning against your neck as he finds your breasts with one hand, gripping them, biting you then, and you’re cumming all over him, head lolling back as he devours you, every bit, with his big hands, his big cock, his big arms.

He takes you over, and you see stars burst behind your eyes, you lose all your sense of self, you just can’t even take it anymore, everything has just become Toji Fushiguro now. And you’re cumming mind blowingly, throbbing around his cock, as his tongue sloppily slides up your neck, drinking your sweat.

“Thass it baby… cum all over Daddy’s cock, like a good girl.” You whine then, at his words, as they slur, as he’s drunk on you, and your little hands grip his thighs, as he pounds up into you.

“D-daddy… yours. Your girl.” You whimper the words, and he moans, vibrating his chest against your back, hand gripping your face again, his lips right against yours now.

“Don’t say that shit. Please. Fucking… killing me. You kill me.” You blink back tears, sucking in a breath, tummy pressing in as you wiggle your hips on him, as you feel him thickening. “You really m-mine, doll?”

“I am, Daddy. Yours. S-said it. All yours.” His big hands slide over every inch of you, as his leaking tip sits against your cervix, as you’re gushing around him, dripping down to his thighs.

“This pussy’s mine?” You nod. “This body’s mine?” You nod. “How about… all of ya, doll, hmm? All of ya.”

“All of me.” He starts cumming then, you hear him almost whimper along with you from the back of your throats, as he’s filling you up, so deep, pumping endless streams of his load deep in your little cunt.

“All mine?” You nod again, and he’s exhaling, slamming his lips against yours, moaning the rest of his release, as you shatter around him, as his cum is pushed out down your bodies, down the bed, mixed with yours.

You can’t breathe, you can’t think.

Everything is on fire.

You blink rapidly, trying to make any sense, but Toji’s holding your back against him, moaning against your neck, kissing it over and over. Your head lolls to the side, weakly, already exhausted from him, from this. Your hands slide up to cup his face, as he eases out of you, and you turn, straddling him. He looks up at you with those dark green eyes, brows low, lips parted.

His hands run up and down your back, exhaling shakily, as you both study each other in the night. “I’ve never felt this. Ever. You scare the shit outta me, doll.” He murmurs then, kissing down your collarbone, and you sigh, hands sliding up to his inky black hair.

“I scare Toji Fushiguro?”

“Sure fuckin do. Witch or something.”

“Toji I… wanna sleep in bed. With you.” His eyes lock on yours, and his face looks tortured.

“You wanna fuck me up more?”

“Just cuddling?”

“Yeah, even worse than fucking ya. I’m already…” He gulps, looking away now, and you sigh.

“Already what?”

“Stupid over you. I was stupid anyway but now… no brain cells.”

“And you think I’m not?”

“Yeah but… you still got a life to live.”

You glare now. “You’re not old, jesus christ. You had your kid as a teenager, we’re like maybe seventeen, eighteen years? You act like you’re sixty. Fuck, I’d still want you at sixty.”

“Crazy talk. Y’know it won’t work.”

“So what, let’s not think of it now. Let’s think of your cum dripping out of my pussy, hmm?” You whisper, against his lips, and feel his body react, his grip so tight you can’t breathe, and you love it.

“You’re fuckin evil, huh?” You grin, then he’s got you on your back, making you gasp at the quick movement. “Fucked my brain up. Ruined me.”

“Giving what I’m getting, Toji.” He smiles then, shaking his head and brushing your sweaty hair back, damp from the exertions. He is oddly gentle as he caresses your cheek then.

“You’re perfect, doll. Too good f’me.”

“Shut up, Toji.” He sighs, kissing you again, and you feel yourself falling, falling deeper in love with this… idiot, this dickhead, this ‘old man’ who wasn’t old, but sure was experienced. This man that was not even close to ideal, but now he’s all you could think of. “I only want you.”

“That’s because you’re young, and I took-”

“No. Don’t tell me how to feel. I’m no baby.”

“You’re my baby. Oh my- corny what the fuck!? See. See what you do to me? Stop laughing, I’ll smack the fuck outta this sore pussy.”

“N-no, don’t, sorry!” You’re giggling though, you can’t help it, until you hear a door open and close, and Toji’s eyes go wide over you, slamming a hand down on your mouth, then you all stay still until it closes again after a few moments, exhaling. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah, shit.”

He lets your mouth go, kissing your forehead softly, as reality interrupts what you two were doing. “You should go back to your room. I won’t leave tomorrow, I’ll wait for you to go back home before I do.”

“I wanna cuddle.” You say, pouting, and he sighs.

“You want us caught.”

“No, but would it be so bad, to tell him?”

“Yes, it would be. I can handle him but like I said, don’t wanna fuck your life up, more than already.”

“You are so emo, old man.” He scowls, and you just grin, running your hands up and down the hard planes of his body. “Emo Toji. Hmm. Kinda hot.”

“You’re a brat, y’know that? A whole fuckin brat.”

“You love it. You love me being a brat.”

“Yeah, yeah, shut up.” You’re just looking at him, as you both leave words unspoken in the quiet room, that smells like sex, that smells like both of you. “Yeah, I do love it.”

“Knew it! Now let me cuddle.”

“Doll…” You pout, batting your lashes, and he sighs, running a hand down his face then. “Fuckin… fine. Lemme clean you up.”

Soon you’re in Toji’s arms, and for once in your life, you feel so good, you feel so safe, as his strong grip feels so good, as his thick leg wraps you, as his chin rests on your shoulder. He has his arm around your waist, his breath warm on your neck as he plants a kiss on it, snuggling you both under the blankets.

You feel his heartbeat against your back, feel his chest rise and fall with each breath, as some insane peace washes over you. The man that spits in your mouth, calls you a bitch, who soaks himself in your arousal like it’s water, the nastiest man you honestly knew. The man you’ve known since you were a kid, the man who’s your friends dad, and your dad’s best friend.

Toji Fusiguro.

Is the best thing to enter your life. You love him wrecking your pussy, you love him lapping your clit, you love feeling him in your throat. You love his cum trickling out of your little hole. You love his moans, love those dark green eyes, love that rare laugh or that snarky grin, you love that scar that you feel rubbing on your neck right now.

You love him.

How would this end, with college, with your dad in the next room, with this age gap, with this… everything. It’s all against you, but for some reason you couldn’t help but die to be in his arms. Nothing has felt better to you, nothing has oddly felt so right as to lay next to him, your eyes fluttering shut, as the ceiling fan whirls on top of you, blowing overheated skin.

“Ya feel too good in my arms. Making me dumb for ya. Evil little doll.” You sigh, nuzzling his arms that hold you, looking back at him in the night, brushing back his hair gently, and he sighs, shutting his eyes in pleasure.

“You love it, huh?”

“Yeah, I do. Go to sleep. And don’t snore or I’ll kick ya off the bed.” You gasp, and he’s grinning then, and fuck if he’s not gorgeous.

“Bet you snore, old man.”

“Thought I wasn’t so old? Need me to fuck that lil cunt again?” You flush, turning, as you snuggle. “That’s what I thought. Poor cunt all swollen and red.”

“Shut up, Toji. Lemme sleep.” He sighs, stroking his thumbs in little circles down your waist.

And you do fall asleep, in his arms, half terrified of being found out, half content to just feel so good.

And a part of you dreading how this will end.

Chapter 7

[kimkaelyn]

"hey."

you tear your attention away from the black-and-white movie that's playing on the tv to look at your boyfriend of three years. "hm?"

katsuki doesn't say anything right away. you watch as he bites his lip, one of his nervous habits he does when he is trying to gain momentum to put forth actions. after a couple of moments of silence, he lets out a sharp tsk before tossing a tiny white box your way.

your boyfriend should have known better than to throw something your way, especially with no warning. your arms weren't fast enough to catch the tiny thing. it hits your head and lands on your lap with a soft thump on the blanket.

you both sit there in stunned silence for a couple of seconds before you laughed at your lack of reflexes. katsuki mutters something that sounds a lot like "shitty brat" before grabbing the box and places it in your hands.

"what's this?" you ask as you study the box. there are no hints of its contents on the outside.

"open it." katsuki urges you. you do as your told, and you gasp when you see the gift lying inside.

it's a beautiful, albeit simple ring. no big obnoxious stone that costs more than your yearly income multiplied. just a simple band with some small diamonds. nothing fancy.

"what-" you stutter as you continue to study the band. "is this a-"

"promise ring," katsuki quickly interjects before you start short wiring.

you smile softly as you look up at with. your eyes shine with adoration and so much love it makes his heart skip a beat. "i thought you didn't believe in this stuff," you softly inquire.

"i don't," he confirms. "but i saw it and thought about you so i had to get it."

you smile. you carefully take the ring out of the box and place it on your finger. a perfect fit. "i love it, kats. thank you." he hums softly in response. he places a tender kiss on your forehead as you admire your new piece of jewelry.

"what are you promising?"

"what?" katsuki meets your gaze.

"when you give one a promise ring, you are supposed to make a promise, hence the ring to solidify it." you tell him.

katsuki thinks for a moment before whispering, "i promise to one day get you a bigger ring." he seals it with a kiss to your lips.

Copyright © by kimkaelyn. All rights reserved. No plagiarizing, re-uploading, translating, or copying of any kind or on any platform of my writing. Please notify me ASAP if you see my work posted on other sites.

[jacobscipioswoman]

Ya’lll this is my first time writing after years! I hope you like it and enjoy🎀

@lovexjoe thanks for proof reading it for me boo. If it wasn’t for her, I’d never post this😭🫶

Armando Aretas x Reader (Smut)🎀💖

𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓘𝓷 𝓟𝓲𝓷𝓴🎀

You stare at the bathroom mirror, you feel a little ridiculous but you know Armando has had a hard week and at this point you'll do anything to help him relax. So you put on the pink satin night dress your friend had convinced you he'd love. You put on a bit of makeup before opening the door a smidge.

"Close your eyes." You sound like a child the way you whine.

"You're killin' me darlin'."

"Please?"

"Okay, okay." You can practically hear the way he holds his hands up in defeat.

You're learning the hard way that trying for a baby is a long and arduous task. With Meghan and Reggie having another baby, and Marcus Jr already in elementary, you've agreed now is as good a time as any to try for the two of you. The only problem is you haven't been feeling great about how long it's taking. You're easily discouraged despite how willing Armando seems to try as often and as hard as possible to knock you up.

So when your friend who is currently six months along offered to give you some advice you were more than willing to sit down at a nearby mall and talk. You'd expected to hear the usual technical jargon. Track your cycle, avoid using lube, and reduce your caffeine intake. You've been doing all of that and more for months now with no luck but much to your surprise she had only one piece of advice.

"Have fun with it."

It sounded absurd to you but she kept on explaining. Telling you that it was important that you were both comfortable and enjoying yourselves, it helped her to try new things. You tried to explain to her that

Armando was slightly vanilla, he didn't like new things. He liked you naked and in a bed, nothing fancy involved.

Your friend of course didn't seem convinced, dragging you to Victoria Secret, insisting that the sheer little pink thing you'd settled on was perfect.

Except it doesn't feel perfect.

Because now you actually have to show him and you're pretty sure he's just going to have you take it off immediately and you'll feel like an idiot and this will all be for nothing.

You take a few steps out of the bathroom, he's sitting on the bed, back against the headboards as move towards him. wringing your hands nervously. He looks like he always does. Handsome, and in his boxers and black shirt. You're beside him now and you're just about to lose your nerve.

"Nevermind this is stupid." You blurt out as he opens his eyes. You give him an apologetic smile as he looks you up and down. You turn around, wanting to just change and forget any of this happened as he grabs you by your arm, pulling you onto the bed.

"Not stupid, not stupid at all." He stares at you, infatuated as he pulls you onto his lap. He takes a bit of the see through fabric in his hands, running it through his fingers. "S'pretty."

"Really? You like it?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you didn't like this kind of thing."

"What kind of thing? Pretty things? I like you, why wouldn't I like this." Your face gets hot as he lifts the fabric, running a finger along the hem of the matching pink panties.

"You really like it?" Your face is getting hotter by the second as he drags you forward by your hips so you can feel his hard on straining through his boxers.

"Like it so much." He rocks his hips up against you with a groan. "Such a- fuck , such a pretty color." He hooks a finger onto the crotch of your panties, pulling them to the side as he ruts up against you, watching with hungry eyes as you soak the front of his underwear. He usually spends quite a bit of time warming you up but now he seems wildly impatient as he pulls his dick out over the band of his boxers. "Want you to wear this more often, s'nice."

"Th-thanks." You stammer out as he guides his cock into you as you sit up on your knees.

"Sit down querida, take it all, I know you can." Armando grunts, his little Spanish accent making you clench around him. Once he nudges the first couple of inches into you, he brings his hands back to the sheer fabric. You do as he says, taking your time until you're filled with his cock, the two of you moaning in unison.

"Baby." You whisper, feeling the head of his cock bump against your cervix.

"Bet this would be even prettier stretched over a round belly." He squeezes your hips, leveraging you down onto him as he thrusts up into you. You've never seen him so worked up as his hips jolt up into you, his breathing going unsteady.

Armando’s never been one to talk during sex, usually all you can get out of him is a few grunts and curses but now he seemingly can't stop mumbling to himself as he marvels at the way the pink fabric clings to you in some places while flowing freely in others. "Can't wait to have you bouncing on my cock when you've got your bump."

The sudden vulgarity from him shoots sparks through your veins as you slowly start moving, raising and dropping your hips, reveling in the feeling of him filling you completely as he bunches up the fabric a bit, pulling it out of the way so he can watch you take him.

"Mando please- " You whine, your hands go to the headboard behind him to steady yourself. "Please touch me." He enthusiastically obliges, one hand going to your clit while the other palms at your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers over the thin fabric. He leans forward, pulling your breast out of the nightie, sucking the tender flesh.

"These are gonna get bigger too." He mumbles against your tit, your hips stutter as he sinks his teeth into the swollen nub. "Gonna be so round- and soft." He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, his fingers picking up speed between your legs as you feel your stomach getting tight, your breath going ragged as you slam your hips down on him, pressing him deep against the spot inside of you that makes you see stars.

"Come on- fuck , fucking take it." He growls as he pops his mouth off of you, pulling you into a kiss as you chase the feeling inside of you, moaning against him until in one sharp motion you seat yourself on him completely, sending yourself over that edge.

His lips move from your mouth to your chin, then cheeks, then forehead, he kisses you everywhere as you work yourself through your orgasm, everything going tense as that white hot fire ripples through your veins.

When you come down from your high your legs feel like jelly and you honestly aren't sure you're gonna be able to keep going but thankfully he takes matters into his own hands, planting his feet on the mattress firmly behind you as he wraps his arms around your torso to keep you upright. He fucks up into you, his pace brutal and unrelenting as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

"Gonna fill up this pretty pussy, make you a mama." He murmurs against the sensitive skin of your throat, his thrusts quickly becoming clumsy as he groans. He's quick to follow you, his cock pulses and you can feel him spill against your walls, his demeanor softens with his cock as he rubs his nose against yours. "I love you s'much." He mumbles, gently lifting you, helping you off his lap as you lay beside him.

You take a moment, catching your breath as he leaves the room, returning quickly with a glass of water, handing it to you as he turns the lights off, crawling into the blankets with you as you lay your head on his chest.

"Love you." He says quietly, giving you a quick kiss that you know means good night as he settles in.

You sit in silence for a few minutes before sighing mostly to yourself.

“What if this doesn't work? Like ever?" You whisper into the darkness, curling yourself up closer to him.

You expect him to be asleep, or to brush you off, and to tell you that it will. Instead he just pulls you closer.

"Then we'll keep trying. And if it doesn't work then we'll look into other options. We can get Mike or Christine to help you with adoption, it should be easier the second time around." He kisses your forehead and you feel him relax, you know he'll be asleep in a few minutes. You're just happy he's willing to validate your worries.

"Good night, love you." You murmur, you really do mean it.

He's right. You'll keep trying, and if it doesn't happen, it doesn't happen. There's no way to know if you're pregnant or not until then. (Although Armando isn't all that surprised when you take a test two weeks later and are met with two blue lines.)

[nrdmssgs]

Idk bout you but like hear me out on helping nikto get dressed like securing the man to go on a mission while you stay behind on base yk like helping him wear his gear and kissing his mask I mean what who said that? 🤨

Masterlist

Oh love, in this house kissing your man's mask is a must.

You two don't share many words. You - because you were never a particularly chatty type. Nikto for his part tries to keep his voices to himself, and any conversation would mean another chance to spit out too much.

Yet the connection between you two is obvious. It grows inevitably as you learn your ways around each other. Tread carefully, observe, memorize, analyze.

You don't need to ask him, when does his scarred face burn and itch. You already remember: it happens before the big operations. Nikto stirs himself up weeks prior to that, exercises more than usual, loses his usual appetite, barely sleeps. There is a certain cost to his extraordinary performance on a battlefield, and this is it. The last hours before the mission, he is so pent-up, his nerves eat him alive. It's when his old scars begin to hurt and torture Nikto. He clenches his teeth and hides his eyes from you.

You saw him trying his usual meds and salves before. But the pain is all in his mind, so nothing can fix it. Or so he thought before you touched him for the first time.

It feels as if you knew, where to press to relieve the tension. At first Nikto turns away, avoiding showing you the disfigured part, although this is almost meaningless since deep scars cross him from cheek to cheek, from lips to the forehead. Little by little he succumbs to your touch, leans in and buries his face in your hands.

He craves your touch. There are just not enough words to express it yet.

There is a small spot nestled between his upper vertebrae. You recall that if you press into it with your thumbs just so, he will groan and tilt his head back, murmuring soft, appreciative obscenities as you relieve the pressure on the nerve.

It sends him somewhere deep into the safety and tranquility. Nikto knew hands that could gift him pleasures before yours, but only you can bring him into another state of mind.

All because you don't treat him mechanically as one would treat a random lover. You observe. You learn.

You have meticulously learned how he prefers to wrap his arms, from his knuckles to midway up his elbow: the precise spots where he folds and knots the banding, and where he carefully tucks the ends to prevent them from coming loose during firing or fighting. Given the severe damage to the skin on his arms, he cannot endure the constant abrasion of coarse textiles. This knowledge, acquired through careful observation, surprises him now as you kneel and gently take the banding from his fingers, setting to the task with practiced precision. He watches you in silent awe. How is it possible to be this perfect? How are you this close to him, even though not in his embrace?

Nikto takes on his balaclava and the hood with straps, meanwhile you touch your fingers against a mask, lying on a bench next to him. He doesn't like it, when you take it. Not because he doesn't trust you - he would rip his own heart out and give to you, no questions asked, should you asked him to. But there are faces, grins, whines, laughter, screams, voices behind this mask. All the ugly, grim things, he tries to keep away from you.

When your soft lips press against the scratched black surface of its forehead, Nikto frowns. A hideous grimace of plastic and metal, yet you kiss it?

He remains quiet until you hand it to him. Only then he breaks the silence.

"Because it's prettier than me?"

You help him fasten all the belts and answer. Your words pass his ears and settle straight into his heart.

A relief. A tight lump growing in his throat. A warmth pulsing deep.

"Because it's a part of you."

[jirsungs]

ep 28: no girls allowed at rockway rehearsals!

word count: 1.8k

As against your will, you pull up to Ningning's apartment, letting out a begrudging sigh as you wait for her in your car. You send her a quick “i'm outside” text before turning up the volume of the current song on Aux. Creep by Radiohead, Jisung sent you the Spotify link a couple of days ago, telling you to think of him whenever it comes on. 

As corny and somewhat cute as it is, you do think of him when you hear the song's melody, and you can't stop the blushing smile that forms on your face when it does. You sing along to the music, occupying yourself as you wait for Ningning.

I want you to notice

When I'm not around

You're so fuckin' special

Not even five minutes later, your eyes catch your best friend running down the stairs of her apartment complex. You assume she rushed out because of her hurried appearance; her hair was still left unbrushed, and her right Doc Martens shoe was untied, making her almost trip down the stairs. You stifle a laugh. 

But when she enters your car, you notice her makeup is still fresh, and her eyeliner is precise and properly taken care of. 

Your smug smirk has Ningning breaking the silence first. “What?”

Her pretending to be clueless makes you smile, "Oh, nothing, nothing. You just look… very pretty today.”

Ningning squints her eyes at you, already knowing that a tease from you is on its way, so she starts it for you.

“I wanted to look presentable!”

This, you laugh at. “The Rockway guys have seen you worse, well, except him.”

You send her another smirk, to which she whines at your attempt to tease her about her little crush. Feeling a bit of sympathy for your best friend, you start the car and begin to drive off.

The scream of “Y/N!” from Mark and Haechan is the first thing to welcome you and Ningning when you both enter the old garage or, to be specific, Mark's parents’ garage. The said band members are the only ones there at the moment, and they immediately run up to give hugs. 

Haechan engulfs you first; he lifts you off the ground, causing you to smack his shoulder to put you down. When he does, Mark takes his turn hugging you, and you glimpse at Ningning and Haechan doing their designed handshake.

Soon after, the rest of the Rockway guys walk in with water bottles and snacks in their hands, provided by Mark's mother. But once Jisung takes notice of you, he messily drops the snacks he was holding into Chenle's arms. Before the poor guy can react, Jisung's already pushing through to quickly get to you. 

“Baby!”

While Jisung runs up to you, the band pays no mind to it as Chenle and Jeno set the snacks down on the table in the corner, and Haechan takes a bite of the assorted crackers as Mark double-checks the sound of his guitar.

A smile is plastered on your face at the sight of your boyfriend. “Hi, Ji–” 

His sudden embrace cuts you off, and instead of saying anything about it, you just let it happen. You love his hugs; he's the epitome of warmth and comfort, plus, he always smells nice.

Your hug sadly doesn't last long before Ningning cuts in, “Gee, hello to you too, Jisung.”

But you don't take her petty commentary to heart, especially since you're used to it. Jisung rests his arm around your neck before he apologizes and greets with a “What's up, Ning,” to which she replies cheekily at the acknowledgment. 

When Ningning walks over to Jeno and Mark and is out of earshot from the two of you, Jisung leans his head down to whisper, “Is it just me or does she look more put together than usual?”

You smack his chest gently at this: “Park Jisung, you’re so mean,” but your boyfriend isn’t affected because, from the raise of his brows, he’s not convinced, so you continue. “She texted me if I was free to hang out, but I told her you already invited me, so… She joined along because of you-know-who.”

Jisung’s mouth forms an O: “Ohhh, that explains it.”

You chuckle and lift your hand to gesture for his black glasses that are resting on the bridge of his nose. Upon seeing his approval, you happily remove them from his face, put them on yours, and look up at him with an excited smile. He looks at you like you’re the only girl in his world. You love it when he looks at you like that, despite it making you weak in the knees every single time. 

“Don’t look at me like that, you weirdo.” You smack his chest again, but just like before, he pays no mind to you trying to hide your flustered state. If anything, he’d like to see more of it, which explains why he gives you a quick kiss on the lips.

“You look pretty in my glasses.” 

To Jisung’s happiness and your dismay, he was able to see more of it. But, as always, you can’t stay mad at him. 

Plus, thanks to his nod toward Ningning, you don’t miss the awkward tension between her and Jeno after being left alone by Mark, who quickly gets the hint. From your observation, Jeno either complimented or embarrassed her with the way her face grew pink. But your small worry about it possibly not being the first reason disappears once you see Jeno make her laugh. 

“Something tells me that this rehearsal will end up being a love fest,” Haechan says disgustedly, which Chenle laughs at. From the corner of the garage, they eye their two band members, who are in different stages of love. Jisung is deep into his super-whipped-and-would-do-anything-for-his-girlfriend, while Jeno has just entered his awkward-like-high-schoolers-in-love stage. 

Luckily, Mark notices the attention shift in the room and brings the band back to focus. “Alright guys, let’s start this up!”

Surprisingly, Rockway’s able to rehearse for three hours with no distractions; it’s only surprising because Jisung and Jeno aren’t going completely heart-eyes for the girls and are focused on their task at hand. 

The gig they were practicing for was said to be a big one. You remember Jisung gushing about how excited he was once he found out that a music producer reached out to Mark and talked about potentially signing them if they could surprise them again.

After those three hours, Jisung and Jeno found themselves starting to get handsy, which was unfortunate for the rest of the Rockway bandmates. They’re positively sure that it wasn’t intentional by the two guys, but once Mark called for a ten-minute break, everything went south. Ningning, who was highly encouraged by you to walk over to Jeno, became a stuttering mess around him, leading them both to become awkward again, while Jisung pulled you onto his lap, messing around with his drums.

Mark walks over to Haechan and Chenle, who are back in the corner. “Okay, new rule: no girls allowed at Rockway rehearsals.” He sighs exasperatedly, his two fingers on the bridge of his nose, as he tries to calm himself down. “As much as I love them, Jeno is embarrassing to watch, and Jisung is… also embarrassing.”

Haechan snickers and takes a sip of his water, and Chenle pats the stressed Mark on the back. “Oh, come on, man. Rehearsal’s been going great. We already lost Jisung to Loverboy Land, but—” He motions for the two guys to look over at Jeno, who was sending them a desperate eye signal of help: “We can help Jeno.”

“You know, it’s kind of funny seeing Ning get all quiet around a guy she likes when she’s literally the scariest woman we know,” Mark adds.

Mark and Chenle jog over to the awkward pair and Haechan stays behind, telling them he’ll catch up after he’s finished drinking his water. When he’s done, he grumbles, “I knew this was gonna happen,” and rushes to the rest of the group.

When you call Ningning over and she’s left occupied, Haechan, Mark, and Chenle take their opportunity to snag Jeno away with the remainder of the ten-minute break to stop this awkward madness from continuing. 

Mark’s the first one to start it with a smack on Jeno’s arm: “Dude, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were good with girls!”

Jeno winces in pain while Chenle inputs, “Where’s your supposed Jeno charm, or whatever you call it? You look like an idiot out there!”

Anticipating another scold, Jeno looks at Haechan, who raises his hands in defense. “I dunno, man, I just followed them.” He puts his hands down and continues, “But since you’re already waiting for advice, Ning’s already opened up to you; stop acting scared and let her in.”

Jeno sighs, already familiar with the advice given: “Guys, I’ve been trying! I thought we made progress when I made her laugh earlier, but I doubt she found it that funny…”

"Oh, puh-lease, did you not hear her? She was still giggling over it when we started rehearsal.” Chenle says.

Haechan butts in, pouting, “Jeno gets funnier and attracts women... Oh, Lord, how sad has my life become?”

The said man rolls his eyes, and Mark takes this time to advise more: “Jeno, you like her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, but I don’t want to make her uncomfortable if she doesn’t feel the same way.”

Once hearing Jeno’s idiotic response, the boys reply with Haechan’s “Oh my God!” while Mark and Chenle face-palm. How could someone be so oblivious?

The commotion sparks Jisung’s interest, leading him to excuse himself from you and Ningning and join his friends. He adds himself to the small huddle between Haechan and Chenle. 

“Hi, guys. What’re you talking about?”

Startled by the younger one, Haechan puts his hand on his chest and says, “Geez, Sungie!” 

But Jisung only giggles, “My bad. But if we’re lecturing Jeno on how horrible he’s doing with Ning, please fill me in.” He ends with a cheeky smile. 

Sensing Jeno’s annoyed whine at the mention of his current dilemma, Mark beats him to it. “You know what?” he eyes Jeno and Jisung. “Band meeting after the girls leave.”

From Mark’s stern attitude, the rest of the band rehearsal was a little bit rocky. No one dared to cross a line with him, keeping their mouths shut unless Mark asked for input on any potential improvements.

After the guys said goodbye to you and Ningning and Jisung gave you his regular goodbye kiss and “text me when you get home,”  you left, leaving the Rockway guys alone. With Mark. And he was scaringly over the edge. 

After calling the end of rehearsal, Mark huddles the band together. Before he speaks, he puts his hands together, almost in prayer, and exhales, “From now on, NO GIRLS ALLOWED AT ROCKWAY REHEARSALS!”

To this, Jisung pouts, “Can Y/N be an exception though?”

But all Jisung gets is a combined “no!” from the band. 

The younger whines in response, “Then, is Ning included in that?”

His whine leads everyone to turn to Jeno, whose face has turned a bright shade of pink. “She's… different and doesn't count.”

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note: ning lore is now revealed, and jaem finally got the answer!!! 😍🙏 i can't believe this chapter marks three chapters left until i have to officially say goodbye to this smau 😭

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[watermelonsugacry]

Y/n applying lotion on his torso..!

It would be last minute..and he would run to her and be like

‘Be quick’

NO BC THIS IS THE DOMESTIC SHIT THAT GOES ON ALL THE TIME WHEN THEY'RE ON TOUR TOGETHER

Ever since the couple has arrived to their hotel room, YN has been bugging him about applying sunscreen to his torso. Especially now more than ever since he chooses to basically go topless on stage (she'll never complain about that) while playing in an outdoor venue in Barcelona.

The first time she brought it up was in their hotel bathroom. Harry, fresh out of the shower with nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, was busy untangling the necklaces around his neck when his wife comes into the room. She holds the bottle out to him with a suggestive tone and a raise of her brow.

He stands frozen for a second, eyeing the sunscreen with a contemplative hum before decidedly shaking his head.

"M'good, baby. Thank you."

She narrows her gaze at him, flickering her eyes from the bottle to her husband, before saying, "M'gonna bring it anyways."

YN turns on her heel but before she can fully leave the room, he reaches over and smacks the underside of her bum just to hear her squeak. He chuckles to himself when he sees her hand peek back into the room to show her middle finger at him.

The next time she brings up the sunscreen, is when he's doing a sound check later that day.

She watches from the sidelines, perched on top of an equipment box as she sits in on Harry and the Love Band rehearse before the show tonight. The yellow sunnies sitting on her face help block some of the glare from the bruiting sun reflecting from the massive stage. Everyone has the same idea along with shorts and some type of short sleeve top for their attire.

As much as YN loves to watch Harry in a white tank top, black Ray Bands, and a clip securing his curls on the top of his head, she wants nothing more than to sooth his tan skin with a protective layer of SPF.

While Harry talks some things over with Pauli and the horns ensemble, YN perks up when Sarah waves her over.

Harry's eyes flick over to his wife up on the platform with his drummer, helping apply lotion to the top of Sarah's back before going back to his conversation.

Soon enough, YN's offering sunscreen help to the rest of the band like a mom at a soccer game. Even Mitch rubs some over his arms while YN dollops a blob on his nose. Everyone happily accepts her offer...well, almost everyone.

When the band rehearses Grapejuice, Harry waltz up to where his wife sits as he sings, "There's never been someone else so perfect for me."

When she waggles the bottle in his face, he gives her a cheeky smile, playfully grabbing and tossing the bottle to the side. Before she can even get one word out in protest, he tugs her off her seat and pulls her in close as he sings.

She tries to pull away as he brings them to the middle of the stage, but his grip on her is strong.

His high notes go wobbly as he giggles, watching as YN gives up her efforts to escape. Eventually, she succumbs to his swaying and lopsided smile and slow dances with her husband for the rest of the song.

The last time she brings up the sunscreen is in his dressing room. And this time around, she doesn't ask.

Harry is already dressed for the stage and was busy tying his shoe laces when his wife's heels come into view. Not even a second later, so does that damn sunscreen bottle.

"Put it on."

"M'fine. I don't need it." Harry tries to reason. "It's gonna be night time when I'm performing out there anyways."

He holds back the temptation to smile at her stubborn look but he knows that'll only make her frustrated. But given that the cute pinch in her brow is already there, he guesses there's no point in trying to hide his smirk.

Plus, it's really hard to not already have a pleased expression at the sight of her in a silk blue dress that was only waiting to be taken off of her body by the end of the night.

"I don't care. Put on the fookin' lotion."

"No."

"Your chest has been red since the last show."

"You look beautiful."

"You're getting sunburned!"

"No m'not."

Before he can get another out, YN presses the pad of her index finger into the a spot by the one of the shallows tattooed on his chest and he hisses at the sting from his inflamed skin. He bats her hand away and notices how the yellow imprint from her finger slowly fades back to red. Despite the clear indication that she's right, he still doesn't say anything.

Even married, he can't let go of his pride to being wrong to his love. He's denied her of her help all day that it would only embarrass him and make him look bad if he gives in now.

Knowing this herself, YN tucks her lips in with a shrug. She places the bottle on the vanity and decides to leave the matter alone. She tried, and if he needs to have aloe vera be applied to his skin when it begins to peel, well, he could do that himself.

Despite how frustrated, irritated or upset the two might be at each other before a show, they're never ones of break their traditional pre-show ritual.

She cups his face and presses a short kiss to her husband's lips.

"Have fun out there. You're gonna do great. I love you."

His mouth opens to say something, anything, as she turns to walk out the room, but no words come out. Instead, he's left to finish getting ready with the icky feeling of guilt settling in and that damn bottle staring back at him.

Before the show starts, YN and her manager, Jenny, walk backstage to get to their designated spot in the pit for family and friends. She turns her head to the sound of feet hitting the pavement and a call of her name.

She furrows her brows when she sees Jeff and her husband running up to her, his cropped blue vest in hand instead of on his torso.

"What's wrong? Everything alright?" YN's voice is laced with concern given that he's supposed to be moments away from being on stage.

"Be quick." He pants out of breath. She's confused for a moment at what he could possibly mean. It's when she looks at what he's shoved in her hand that it finally clicks. She's quickly popping the cap off the bottle and squirting some lotion in the palm of her hand. After handing the sunscreen to her manager, she rubs her hands together before lathering up his torso, his abs, his chest--anywhere she can cover.

"Aw did you have to put on a little sunny-screen because your mummy told you to?" Jeff teases in a baby voice before breaking out in a laugh, only to receive a slap on the arm from Jenny.

YN doesn't even hit him back with a witty comment. Too smug, smiley and occupied with smoothing the lotion over her husband's broad shoulders and down his arms to care. So much so, that she doesn't even notice when Lloyd takes a few quick pictures of the couple before running off to take his place on stage.

She rubs the remaining bits of lotion over the apples of his cheeks, his t-zone, and his nose before taking hold of his face to plant a sweet kiss on his lips.

"Okay, yeh all set."

He shakes his head at the smugness written all over her beautiful features. It shouldn't be a surprise to anyone how he always folds for her in the end, no matter how strong headed both of them are.

"You're lucky I love you."

"Please, you're the lucky one."

"Damn right I am," He grins at her giggle as he pulls her back in for another kiss. Too enthroned and stupidly in love with this woman, he doesn't think twice about cupping her cheek with one hand while his arm circles around her waist, deepening what was supposed to be a short and sweet kiss.

"Um, H?" Jeff calls after a moment. "You got a show to do, remember?"

"Mhm, yeah." Harry mumbles out of the corner of his mouth to not completely break the kiss, fully enclosing himself around his wife while her arms go around his neck. "Be there in a sec."

Jenny's back is the the couple, her hands clasped together as she looks up at the ceiling to give them their privacy. She already knows that its best to just let them be than trying to break them apart; for Harry's shows anyway. But when it comes for her singer, she's hustling YN to be on stage, ready to perform, and on time.

Jeff on the other hand is looking down the empty hallway, anxiously looking at the watch on his wrist before scratching at his brow. He spares a glance at the two with a pained expression.

"You Love Birds need to go on a second honeymoon or some something, you horny fucks."

"Way ahead of you, Jeffery."

Harry give a lopsided grin at YN's words, pressing another smearing kiss to her lips. The two weeks they used for their honeymoon back in January was barely enough time for anything before having to go back on their respected world tours. With both of their show numbers decreasing by the week, the married couple plans to go MIA for a very long time: drinking wine at their private villa in Italy, walking along the shore at their getaway beach house in Malibu, tangled under the sheets in their bedroom in France.

From their spot backstage, they can hear the field full of fans begin to scream in excitement as the intro video plays. Desperate, Jeff turns to the wife for some complacency. "Mrs. Styles? Unless you want your husband to be out of a job in the next 60 seconds?"

YN pulls away with a smile, biting her lip as her husband looks down at her like he's one kiss away from canceling the show.

"Think of me when you're out there." She closes her eyes when he bumps their foreheads together, nearly melting when he rubs their noses together; a soft and loving gesture despite the dirty thoughts swimming in his head.

"Always." Harry answers easily, bringing her hand to his lips and presses a kiss to the rock on her finger.

With a new sense of spunk and pump to be on stage, Harry throws a sly wink to his wife before maneuvering around her and walks towards the stage. YN's eyes linger on his back muscles as he lifts his arms in the air, looping them through the arm holes in his cropped vest.

His words are cheeky and light as he says over his shoulder, "You coming, Jeffery?"

.

SINCE 2010 masterlist

taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee @harianaswhore @gxbiqs @mvaldez7821 @yourfavplayboybunny @drewrry @thurhomish @roseke @majasophieanna @lilfreakjez @rach2699 @renatavieira

[callsign-mayhem]

heartbreak feels so good (part 2)

Pairing: Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader Word count: 3861 CW: Shitty ex-boyfriends, slow burn, angst, fluff

Part One Part Three

Your boyfriend's callsign is Viper, which is fitting. Bradley doesn't know how much longer he can watch this man destroy you, but luckily for him, he doesn't have to wait too long.

Use of Y/N, but no description of reader. THIS IS A MULTI-PART FIC.

The eerie silence of your apartment woke you that morning. Either it was never usually this quiet, or you just hadn’t noticed it when Elijah stayed over. There had been a few occasions over the weekend where you’d noticed differences like this, and you wondered when and if it got any easier to deal with. 

You had awoken with your childhood teddy bear tucked beneath your chin. Somewhat disoriented, you sat up and glanced around the room. Your phone was charging on your nightstand with a glass of water and a Post-It next to it. That’s when it hit you that Bradley had been here the night before. You must have fallen asleep on the sofa during your wallowing sesh, which meant he’d carried you to bed. Ted was staring at you accusingly as though he’d noticed how your heartbeat stuttered once, twice, and then righted itself. 

Burning with curiosity, you reached over and grabbed the orange Post-It, reading what you could only assume were Bradley’s words hungrily. His handwriting was atrocious, as wonky as his voice was raspy.

Getting Starbs. Be back soon x

Well, that explained that one. For the second morning in a row, you’d woken up feeling rough, although you didn’t feel as bad as yesterday. Yesterday, crawling out of bed had felt more like crawling out of the pits of hell. Today, you knew that Bradley was coming back with coffee—after having slept over—and while this was confusing, it gave you something to think about aside from Elijah. 

You took a cold shower to reset your central nervous system, using all your fancy products in an attempt to make yourself feel better. It only partially worked, so you decided to put on one of your favourite outfits, which had the tendency to make you appear more confident than you actually felt. Now seemed as good a time as any to buy into the fake it till you make it movement. 

When you ventured into the living room, you noticed that the nest you had built on the sofa was still intact, although it had been moved around slightly to serve as a makeshift bed. This must have been where Bradley spent the night after he’d tucked you in. Something about this was hard to accept, and as you stood there staring at the pillows and duvet, you tried to come up with an explanation as to why he’d stayed. As you cycled through the possibilities, the same part of your brain that believed you weren’t worthy of anyone better than Elijah started trying to convince you that Bradley was going to do the same thing he had. Or worse, he was just pitying you. 

These were the kinds of tricks your brain liked to play on you, and usually, it was successful, but this time you were interrupted. Someone was knocking on your front door, presumably Bradley, who didn’t have a key. It dawned on you too late that you’d given Bradley your spare yesterday evening when he’d told you he might go out and grab coffee in the morning, and you were turning the handle before you could really register what this meant. 

It had only been a few days, but you’d forgotten just how disarming Elijah was. He was standing in the hallway with a bunch of beautiful red roses, dressed in your favourite outfit of his: black cargos, one of his band tees and his beat-up Docs. You could smell his aftershave from where you stood, and he’d obviously had a haircut and beard trim before coming to see you. 

Both relief and dread flooded you simultaneously, and you were torn between slamming the door in his face or collapsing into his arms, flowers be damned. 

‘El,’ you croaked. ‘What’re you doing here?’

He smiled sheepishly, holding out the flowers so you could take them. They smelled like second chances and summer romance. ‘Went to that market we used to go to this morning and saw these. They made me think of you, so I thought you should have them.’

‘T-thanks?’

‘I know it’s out of the blue, but I thought we should talk.’ He said all of this so calmly— cool as a cucumber—as if this were the most natural thing in the world. As if you were going to discuss the weather and not his narcissistic tendencies. ‘I might have overreacted.’

You scoffed. ‘What was your first clue?’

Elijah rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t come here to fight. I came to apologise, Y/N. Maybe there’s something here worth salvaging.’

And didn’t this happen every single time? He fucked up on a monumental scale, only realised because of your reaction, and apologised because he knew that’s what he was supposed to do, not because he saw any issues with his behaviour. He’d promise to work on it, you’d believe him, and then the cycle would start all over again. After dealing with it for a year, you were only just becoming aware of the ways he manipulated you, ways that would probably still work if you gave him enough time.

The scary part is that you were considering letting him despite the newly reawakened, sane part of your brain screaming at you not to.

‘Y/N?’ 

Oh God. No, no, no, no.

Bradley Bradshaw had materialised behind Elijah in all his golden glory, two coffees in hand, aviators perched on the tip of his perfect nose. He was wearing shorts and a black tank top, so clearly, he’d popped home to change clothes. To top it off, he was doused in a light sheen of sweat that glistened underneath the lights in the hallway. 

The sane part of your brain was relieved to see him, but the part that Elijah controlled was about to implode. Your hands felt clammy, and your throat was thick with nerves, making it incredibly difficult to talk. 

Elijah spun around. Even though he now had his back to you, you had a pretty good idea of what his face looked like. His shoulders tensed up and you watched him squeeze both of his hands into fists. 

‘What the fuck?’

‘El, it’s not what it looks like, he-’

Elijah spun around. His anger was an almost tangible thing. He’d always struggled with it, what with having undiagnosed and unmedicated ADHD, and it could be terrifying. He also liked using it as an excuse when he acted out, claiming he couldn’t help it. 

Bradley seemed relatively calm. You knew it was a front, that he wanted to rip Elijah’s head off, but that would end up hurting you, so he was reigning it in for your benefit. 

Elijah was glancing between you and Bradley, nostrils flaring and jaw set with anger. Briefly, you locked eyes with Bradley but couldn’t determine what emotions were hidden there.

‘Not that it’s any of your business, Viper,’ Bradley started. ‘But I’m here helping Y/N through a tough time. We’re friends, and that’s what friends do.’ 

‘Not sure why she’s having a tough time.’ Elijah spat. ‘I’m the one getting sent pictures of his girlfriend walking down the beach with another guy. Do you have any idea how that made me look?’ 

‘Maybe it should’ve been you, then. Oh, wait,’ Bradley smiled sarcastically. ‘You were too busy ghosting her because she went out with her friends.’

‘I don’t need to stand here and listen to this. Who the fuck do you think you are, man? This has nothing to do with you.’

‘Elijah.’ You warned.

‘And you’re defending this guy now, Y/N? What the fuck is wrong with you?’

‘That’s enough.’

‘No, I’m not done. Because I wanna know what you think gives you the right-’

Bradley sidestepped Elijah and handed you the two iced coffees. You stood there dumbly, unable to do anything.

‘I’m her friend, that’s what gives me the right. I’m the one who’s gonna pick up all the fucking pieces.’

Elijah was trying to square up to Bradley, but he was a fair bit shorter, so it just looked pathetic. 

‘Pick up all the pieces of what? Her broken heart?’ Elijah laughed bitterly. ‘Boo fucking hoo. If she weren’t such a slut, we’d still be together. It’s her own fault.’

Bradley Bradshaw wasn’t a violent person. It was a last resort for him, so when he slammed Elijah into the wall, you knew it was because he’d been pushed way beyond his limit by that last comment. 

Elijah shoved Bradley off him and swung, clipping the side of his face and causing him to stagger back. Bradley took a second to right himself and, with a great heaving breath, swung back hard. You squeezed your eyes shut, but the sound of Bradley’s fist meeting Elijah’s nose was loud enough that you could still picture it vividly. It reminded you of the sound of gravel getting crushed underneath the tyres of the Bronco or the eggshells you’d spent the last year walking over to spare Elijah’s feelings. 

The sound seemed to snap you out of your helpless daze.

‘That’s enough!’ You yelled. 

The bin bag containing Elijah’s belongings was next to the front door so you’d remember to take it to work the next day. You grabbed it and threw it at Elijah, who just about managed to catch it before it hit him in the face. 

‘I don’t wanna see your face around here again.’ You said bitterly. ‘And I don’t want any rumours going around base about Bradley and me because this breakup is all your fault. You’re the one who couldn’t get his act together.’

‘And if you ever call her a slut—or anything else—again, I’ll make sure you never fly for the navy again.’

You meant every word of it, but it was still difficult to look Elijah in the eye one last time before he walked out of your life for good. It was hard because you’d still loved a version of this man, laughed, cried, and talked for hours with him. And if he’d managed to admit to a few of his shortcomings, work on them and maybe go to therapy for his unhealed trauma, you’d probably still be laughing, crying and talking with him. 

You would have probably married him. 

But he would never admit to having shortcomings, never take the time to work on things, and therapy was out of the question. Love is only a small part of what makes a relationship work, and when it came to your relationship with Elijah, your love for him was the only thing keeping it going. Most days, this wasn’t even enough. 

You half expected him to say something else, but he seemed to know better. Clutching the bin bag full of his belongings, Elijah skulked off down the hallway, and you watched uneasily until he disappeared around the corner, finally leaving you and Bradley alone.

You released a shaky breath, and Bradley pulled you into a hug so comforting that you just about melted. He smelled of sunshine, clean cotton, and Bleu De Chanel, and you had to refrain from inhaling. 

‘I leave you for half hour, and that dick shows up.’ Bradley murmured. 

You could hear the smile in his voice, which was also a comfort. After a scene like that, the last thing on Elijah’s mind would have been comforting you. Even though Bradley was the one physically hurt, his priority was still taking care of you and keeping the mood light so you didn’t start spiralling. 

Reluctantly you pulled away from Bradley, not because you wanted to, but because you thought he deserved some breakfast after his morning heroics. 

‘Did he get your eye?’ You asked, concerned. 

‘No,’ Bradley smiled reassuringly. ‘Almost, but no.’

Once back inside, you set about making breakfast. Bradley was glancing around, somewhat disorientated, and you briefly worried if he had a concussion.

‘You good, Roo?’

‘Yeah, what happened to the coffees?’

‘Oh, they’re on the side where I keep my car keys. By the door.’

Bradley fetched the coffee and sat in his usual spot at the kitchen island. He was unharmed, but it was evident in the way he wouldn’t meet your eye that something was on his mind. While you cooked the bacon—having deja vu from yesterday—you thought about the best way to approach the situation. Bradley was entitled to feel some type of way about what had just happened, and he was under no obligation to share said feelings with you if he didn’t want to. After all he’d done for you, he was entitled to a few private thoughts. But something about the brooding look on his face made it hard to leave well enough alone, and all of a sudden, you found yourself wanting to know every thought—good and bad—going on inside his pretty little head. 

You lowered the heat on the stove and turned around to grab your coffee, making a point of trying to meet Bradley’s eye. The contact lasted about three seconds before he refocused his attention on his coffee cup, which had suddenly become very interesting. This man had tells, and you were going to learn them all. 

‘What’s wrong, Bradley? You can talk to me, you know?’

He shook his head slightly. ‘Nothing.’

‘Bullcrap. You can tell when I’m not being honest about how I feel, and guess what? It’s a two-way street. And just like you encourage me to talk about what’s bothering me, I’m encouraging you to do the same.’ 

‘I’ve created a monster.’ Bradley grinned.

‘You have. It’s your own fault, Bradshaw.’

‘It’s not a big deal,’ he said, sipping his iced latte. ‘I’ve just been trying to imagine what would’ve happened if I didn’t come at that exact moment.’

Your stomach twisted. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You were holding roses. That look on your face, Y/N… I think if I didn’t come back when I did, you would’ve let him in.’ 

‘That’s…’

He was gazing at you expectantly. 

‘...Ridiculous.’ You finished. 

‘See, I really wanna believe that,’ he smiled sadly. ‘But I know you well enough to know that you’re lying.’ 

You turned back around to face the stove, partly because you needed to flip the bacon and get started on the eggs and partly because you couldn’t keep the agony off your face. Because Bradley was right as usual—as much as it pained you to admit it, you would have eventually let Elijah in. 

‘It’s not as black and white as that.’

Bradley’s eyes were burning holes in the back of your head. It was extremely off-putting.

‘I know, Y/N. Nothing is.’

This caught your attention. You spun around and pointed the spatula at him accusingly. 

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ You asked.

Bradley held his hands up. ‘Nothing, doll. I’m just agreeing with you.’

‘Nothing in life is simple,’ you murmured, opening the cupboard above you and taking the packet of bagels out. ‘No matter how much you wish it was.’

‘Just to be clear, I don’t blame you for wanting to let him in. He’s a manipulator, and he’s good at what he does. And you love with everything you have.’

‘Even when I shouldn’t.’

You heard Bradley sigh. ‘Y/N, I’m gonna tell you something, and I want you to really take it in, okay?’

‘Okay?’

‘Loving hard is never a bad thing, and you should never shrink your love to make it easier for people to digest. If you find yourself doing that, then the person you’re doing it for isn’t meant for you. The right people will always take your love as it comes, and you won’t have to change anything.’

 You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. ‘Like you. And Nat.’

‘Yes,’ he breathed, seemingly relieved that you were beginning to understand. ‘Just like me and Nat.’

Bradley Bradshaw was not in the business of denying you of anything, which is how he found himself curled up on your sofa for the second afternoon in a row, watching reruns of Gilmore Girls. The two of you had watched so many episodes that he knew the theme song by heart, and as catchy as it was, he only liked it because you sang it each time without fail. This was the happiest and calmest he’d seen you all weekend, which was surprising after Elijah’s surprise visit earlier that day. After quite the internal debate, he’d come to the conclusion that you needed to see him after the breakup, no matter how briefly, in order to start the process of moving on. 

Bradley was starting to fancy himself a love and relationship expert despite not having experienced it many times himself. Something about you and your particular situation made him feel he needed to monitor it, as though it were his job to make sure you emerged relatively unscathed. 

He glanced at you sideways, wrapped up in a pumpkin-covered throw with a mug of tea keeping your hands warm, and felt this innate need to protect you from the world and everyone in it. Especially Elijah. He couldn’t explain it, but it went further than friendship, possibly even further than love. 

Bradley was just about to suggest going for a walk to stretch your legs and get some air, but then the intercom started buzzing, causing the both of you to jump out of your skins. 

He reached and took your tea from you so you could get up without ending up wearing it. Whoever was waiting to be let in was pretty persistent, constantly buzzing until you managed to get to the front door and click the intercom.

‘Who is it?’ You asked, panting from the exertion. 

‘Natasha Trace, you know, the best friend you’ve been blanking all weekend.’ 

You cursed under your breath, pressing the release for the door. ‘Sorry, Nat. Come on up.’

It suddenly dawned on Bradley that he hadn’t updated Nat since sometime yesterday and that she was probably worried sick. She knew nothing about Elijah showing up at your apartment or the fact that Bradley had stayed over. The fact that he’d slept on the sofa wouldn’t matter to her when she found out. He’d never hear the end of it. 

You were hovering nervously by the door, clearly anticipating the same telling-off as Bradley. ‘I was supposed to call her last night,’ you told him. ‘And then I passed out on the couch.’

‘We’re both done for, Y/CS,’ he grinned. ‘It’s been super nice knowing you.’

Somehow—in the time it took her to get up the three flights of stairs to your front door—he managed to convince himself that she wouldn’t be that mad at the two of you. But when you opened the door, he could almost feel her anger, like heat rolling off her in waves. Before you could get a word out, she was pulling you in for a rough but well-meaning hug.

‘I was worried sick, Y/N.’

You relaxed into the hug and put your arms around her middle, squeezing reassuringly. ‘I’m sorry, Nat. I should have called.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘You should’ve. Last time I saw you, you were half-cut and running away from us at The Hard Deck.’ You stepped aside so she could come in. ‘You’ve got some explaining to-’

When Natasha noticed Bradley reclining comfortably on your couch, she stopped speaking. Bradley had a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, and he wiggled his eyebrows at her teasingly. 

‘Hey, Nix.’ 

Briefly, she glanced at you and then back at Bradley. Then back at you, then back to Bradley.

‘Don’t ‘hey, Nix’ me, mister. You’ve been here all weekend?’

He shrugged apologetically. ‘Pretty much.’

‘No text? No call?’

‘Sorry. We were kinda preoccupied with wallowing and fighting Viper off.’

‘What do you mean fighting him off?’

With a great sigh, you traipsed over to the couch and collapsed back into your spot. ‘He showed up this morning with roses and the usual fake apology.’

Natasha was incredulous. She didn’t sit down, she just started pacing in front of the couch, Gilmore Girls still playing on the flat screen behind her. 

‘Are you serious?’

‘Yup, and it’s lucky I came back when I did,’ Bradley chimed in. ‘Y/N was gonna let him in.’

Natasha stopped pacing to glare at you. ‘You were gonna do what?’

You launched a throw pillow at Bradley’s head, which, fortunately for you, he didn’t manage to dodge. 

‘Hey!’ He huffed. ‘I’m not blaming you! We talked about this earlier.’

You rolled your eyes. ‘It wasn’t my finest moment, okay? I’ve been drinking his Kool-Aid for so long it’s gonna be a while before it’s all out of my system. So I guess Bradley really did come back at the right time.’

This didn’t seem to satisfy Nat, so you launched into a more detailed account of the past weekend, filling her in on everything except a few details about Bradley. Those you would save for when it was just the two of you. Halfway through, she perched herself on the edge of the coffee table, facing you and listening intently to what you had to say. By the end of it, she was literally seething with rage. This time, directed at your now ex-boyfriend. 

‘He ought to watch his back,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Cause if I see him on base, he’s gonna wish he’d never been born.’

The three of you ended up ordering pizza. At one point, you got up to go to the bathroom, and Natasha took the opportunity to grill Bradley some more. He wasn’t surprised in the slightest. Only surprised that it had taken her this long. 

She started the interrogation by smacking the back of his head.

‘What was that for?’ He hissed.

‘That’s for going after your best friend when she’s just had her heart broken.’

‘What makes you think I’m going after her?’

Nat pretended to think about this. ‘Hmmm, let me see… Maybe because you’ve slept here two nights in a row, and I walked into you cuddled up on her couch drinking fucking cocoa!’

‘It was tea, actually. And I slept out here both nights. Just didn’t want her to be alone.’

She relented, but only slightly. ‘Still, you need to cool it. She’s probably feeling all kinds of confused right now, and she doesn’t need you and your big puppy dog eyes making things even more complicated.’

He smiled despite himself. ‘You think I have big puppy dog eyes?’

She glared at him witheringly. ‘Is missing the point a personality trait of yours?’

‘Nix, will you calm down? I’m not going after her, I’m not confusing her, and I’m not making things difficult with my big eyes. I’ve been giving her advice, helping her through the worst of it. That’s all.’

Natasha softened, satisfied that Bradley was telling the truth. The toilet flushed, and the bathroom door opened, so they’d have to finish this conversation some other time. But before you came back, Natasha whispered one last thing…

‘I know you love her, Bradley. I know you always have. But you have to give her some time.’

End of part 2. Final part coming soon!

Taglist: primroseluna eloquentdreamer sgt-barnesveins daybleedsintonightfa11

[olenvasynyt]

In ACOWAR during the meeting with Kier when he asks for his people to be free of the mountain, Feyre says “You have every comfort, and it’s still not enough?”

She had every comfort at Tamlin’s manor, and it still wasn’t enough for her…

#freethecourtofnightmares2024

One thing that really pisses me off about the Court of Nightmares is how SJM writes it so black and white. The entire court, not just Keir, is evil and conniving. There was a part in ACOWAR where he says he is going to let the CoN go to Velaris but he told all of the vendors and business owners to refuse service to not just Keir, but all of the CoN. And this paints the entire court in this black and white lense.

Not a single person in that court is a dreamer like Mor? She was the only fucking one?

I think there can be a little bit of nuance to the situation where a significant portion of the court is just bad because they have been festering in the dark for so long, but guess who's fault is that?? It's the leader's fault, the one who keeps the court up and running, aka the High Lord, aka Rhys.

Rhys says he wants change. That he wants to show the world that he's good. But he continues to keep the Court of Nightmares up and running, he keeps Keir as herald.

"Oh this court is so awful and sadistic," Feyre thinks as she sits on the throne with a crown on her head and with Rhys holding her hand.

And Rhys says "the Court of Nightmares just rules itself" and sure, I guess that's true, but as High Lord, you have the ability to put a stop to that and pull out the bad weeds. But instead, you keep it running to further your agenda and to keep your evil mask on.

Getting mad at Keir for slutshaming your lover and breaking his arm is not enough. Restricting access to Velaris is not enough. Even telling the Court "you guys are bad >:C " is not fucking enough.

Rhys the most powerful High Lord who killed all of the Illyrian war bands who sided with Amarantha after UTM, yet he can't do the same to the CoN?

Rhys and Feyre and the IC label the entire CoN as evil without trying to find the forgotten dreamers, and they continue to keep the court up and running and making the excuse that "it's too hard" despite their power and influence. It means they don't care. Or that Rhys maybe fucking enjoys it.

It also means that SJM (so far) has no idea what she's doing and can't understand the situation she wrote in her own series.

And this brings me to comparing Nesta being locked up, the CoN and its dreamers being locked up, and Feyre being locked up. Is SJM intending this irony and hypocrisy of the IC? I sure hope so because I swear it's the most obvious comparision ever, but it confuses me because a large majority of the ACOTAR fanbase doesn't get it. "Oh well the CoN is evil! They have to keep them contained and Rhys can't do a whole lot as High Lord because the Court rules itself." And the most frustrating argument: "Nesta was addicted to sex and alcohol, she needed to be rehabilitated! It's for her own good!"

They don't see the irony of how the IC treats Nesta because Tamlin also did what he did for Feyre's own good. It was to protect her, keep her safe. Not saying it was 100% good and right, but why are we not understanding that what the IC did to Nesta was not 100% good and right either?

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys

Leisure Headcanons

💋 David 💋

Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)

Has his own gun hidden in the cave.

Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.

Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.

Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.

I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.

I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.

💀 Dwayne 💀

Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD

Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.

A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.

Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.

Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.

Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.

Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.

🌿 Paul 🌿

Can play the guitar.

Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.

Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.

Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.

Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.

When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.

When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.

🪶 Marko 🪶

Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.

He in fact did NOT domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.

He does his own patchwork on his jacket.

Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.

He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.

He collects sea shells on the beach.

He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.

🔥Pack Activities🔥

Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.

Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?

Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.

Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.

And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.

Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!

I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.

Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3

[luveline]

tiny baby blurb of rockstar!remus and new to the band!reader just dealing with everything together if that's okay!

thank u for ur request ♡ fem!reader

"What are they doing?"

Remus steps up to the window beside you, looking down at the crowd as it flows forward like a crashing wave. Sirius and James are small as grains of rice from so far below, but they are unmistakably themselves. 

"I hope they get trampled."

"We'd be missing half the band," you argue. 

"We could make it work. We're good like that." 

You lean into his side tentatively, wanting to know what he'll do. His hand comes up immediately to curve over your shoulder, his forearm pressed to your shoulder blade. He presses his cheek to the top of your head, the distinct smell of his chamomile cologne awakening with his movements. 

It's as calming as his touch. 

Remus, through everything, has been by your side. Physically and emotionally. His hand warms a path from the hill of your shoulder to the straight column of your neck, his lips touching your temple as he asks, "You okay, dove?" 

Things have been hectic lately, mainly tonight. The hotel room behind you is an explosion of clothes; jackets and shirts and a hundred pairs of trousers strewn about. There are socks on the TV stand, your clean underwear tipped and toed aside by the bottom of your bed. Remus promised to help you tidy up before this distraction, and you're wondering if he'd help you tidy up the mess in your head, if you asked. 

"I think I'm really tired," you confess quietly. 

Remus does kiss you, then, on the top of your head. It has your pulse roaring to life like a motor with its pull cord yanked out. It wouldn't shock you if they looked at your heart and found it spinning in circles. Yet he's always so casual about touching you, like it doesn't wobble the earth on its axis for him as it does you, so you try not to react. You're content to be doted on by him if doting is all it is. 

But you'd like a little more than that, too. 

"We'll clear off the bed and sleep." 

See, what's that? He's offering to get into bed with you? 

You pick at the caulking around the window. With the sun shining from an angle as it sets, gold light crawls up your arms. If you look into the diamond of shadow in the corner, you can see your two faces reflected. You look morosely exhausted. Remus looks handsomely concerned, half his face hidden where he's turned his cheek to your skin. His hand roams across your shoulder to the right most side, a half hug. 

"Is it a different kind of tired?" he asks gently. 

"I'm okay." You feel better the longer he touches you. He worries a lot about how you're coping under the pressure of the band, but he doesn't need to. "You know, I can do this, but only because you're with me." 

"That's not true, is it?" he asks, pulling your face into his neck for a quick squeeze. 

Remus' hand rubs a rougher pattern into the top of your arm before he separates from you, leaving you to miss the heat and security of his touch. 

"You don't need me to do this. You forget how impressive you are. Now come and help me put this away," he says.

You tear away from the window and the last lingering effects of his hug. "Can't you do it for me?" you joke, looking down at him where he's kneeled to begin folding your trousers. You're so tired that the idea of sitting down with him to put your clothes away feels akin to climbing Mount Everest. 

"Not unless you want me looking through your knickers, dove." 

You bite the inside of your cheek, suddenly much more awake. "I'll do it," you say. 

"These ones are cute," he says, reaching for a pair of black ones peeking out from under the bed frame. 

You drop to your knees and shove his shoulder, forcing his hand away. "I'll do it!" you repeat, your face burning with embarrassment. 

His answering laugh is especially annoying. Annoying and so, so charming.